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#mother the suds
delectable-love · 1 year
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Mariah at the Enola Holmes 2 premiere !
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damianwaynerocks · 4 months
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i know everybody's like "jason todd would've gone to college for english if he didn't die" which is awesome. like i love that headcanon don't get me wrong. but i feel like he would've went for social work.
jason peter todd, who grew up defending his SUDS mother from his abusive father, who lived on the streets when he should've been in elementary school, who was so poor and hungry that he was literally stealing tires off a fancy car to sell so he could eat?? that man would absolutely have worked in child welfare. whether as a foster care case manager or a community case worker helping at-risk youth, i genuinely think he would've gravitated towards helping kids in situations like his.
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ellecdc · 2 months
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PART 2 PLSSSSSSSSSSS
I need the comfort
ok ok ok ok ok mother's here - I've fixed it for you. Don't say I never did anything for ya 😉
part two of Mistake: poly!wolfstar x fem!reader
CW: angst, hurt and COMFORT read part one here
Remus felt like he’d just been slapped. In fact, he was sure that if he looked in a mirror, he would see a red welt in the shape of your hand across his cheek. 
Lupin?
You haven’t called him that since...well since you started dating. As a matter of fact, he can’t remember the last time you referred to him in any way other than some sickly-sweet pet name that he pretended embarrassed him, but he secretly preened at. 
I’ll see you around.
What the hell did that mean? What just happened?
He felt stuck...perhaps he should go after you? But you told him to go check on Sirius: make sure he’s okay for me, yeah? And he meant what he had said – the three of you would be back to normal in no time. They’d catch up with you tomorrow.
Remus tried to replay every interaction you had tonight. You had asked how their days were...he replied and asked how yours was. Should he have asked you first?
He should have asked you first.
You tried making conversation, but Remus was so hyper focused on Sirius’ mood – afraid that he’d do or say something out of pocket that would hurt your feelings – that each attempt sort of fell flat. Remus had been there before – he’s witnessed Sirius’ tendency to self-sabotage and ruin a good thing once he finally has it, and he didn’t want that to happen again. Not with you.
He knew what Sirius really needed was some quiet; a chance to ponder and lament angrily inside his own head without outside influence.
Maybe they should have cancelled – rescheduled your study date for another time. Clearly his effort to protect you from any negativity was in vain.  
But it was just a bad day, a blip, a one-off. You would all get some good sleep tonight and reconvene tomorrow.
Right?
Maybe he should have followed you.
But by the time he could manage to pry his feet from the floor of the library that he felt cemented to, you were gone. 
He would just have to talk it out with you tomorrow.
Remus entered his dorm to find Peter already asleep on his bed, James finishing the Transfiguration essay that was due tomorrow morning on his own bed, and both Remus and Sirius’ beds empty. 
“Pads around?” Remus asked James quietly as he began to shuck off his uniform. The quiet tone was mostly for courtesy’s sake knowing Peter could sleep through a stampede of hippogriffs.
James peered at Remus from above his glasses before nodding his head towards the bathroom door.
Sure enough, Remus found Sirius leaning against the shower stall with his eyes closed as the water cascaded around his form. 
“You almost done, love?” Remus asked gently. Sirius spooked slightly as he turned to look at Remus; his eyes were red and glossy...he had been crying.
“You didn’t stay with her?”
Remus fought the urge to grimace, to heave, to turn around and run. He opted to gently shake his head. “No, she... said she got most of what she needed to do done.”
Sirius seemed to consider that as he sighed. “Was she terribly upset? I didn’t...I didn’t mean to be an ass. I know James always says I’m quick to take it out on others – I tried really hard not to, honest. I swear it, Rem I-”
Remus began shaking his head as he moved towards Sirius. He could tell by the smell in the bathroom that Sirius had already washed his hair and there were no more suds on his body, so he turned the water off and handed Sirius a towel. 
“You were fine, Sirius. She’s – she’s fine.” He lied.
He lied. He lied to Sirius. About you.
But how could he look Sirius in the eye right now – Sirius who was currently standing naked, soaking wet, nearly hyperventilating, not over his disgusting parents but because he was afraid that he may have upset you – and tell him that between the maybe seven minutes since Sirius had left the library and now, Remus had completely mucked it all up?
The answer was: he couldn’t. He couldn’t look Sirius in the eye and admit that he may have just sabotaged your relationship.
It’s going to be fine. He tried to tell himself. We’ll fix this all tomorrow.
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You felt beyond childish, hiding in your dorm room like some toddler throwing a temper tantrum. But you had decided last night that what you really needed was space. Some breathing room. A chance to see this from a different lens. A different perspective.
And you couldn’t do that when your heart was breaking. And being around Remus and Sirius felt like that right now.
It felt heart breaking. 
And perhaps that was your answer right there. If this was causing you heart ache, why were you doing it to yourself? To them? You didn’t deserve that, and neither did they.
But it wasn’t just this you were worried about. It was more than just this relationship – it was the friendship that preceded it. It was the meshing of you into their circle of friends. You were their friend long before you were ever their girlfriend. You wouldn’t just be losing Remus and Sirius: your boyfriend’s; you’d also be losing Remus and Sirius: your friend’s.
Maybe you should have thought about that before you said yes.
Suddenly, you were a little angry: they had asked you to be their girlfriend – not the other way around! Why would they put you through all of this for, what? For...
Was it really for nothing?
“Are you coming to breakfast?” Shelby asked you quietly from the door. You shifted your head on the pillow to make eye contact with her. “No, I’ve got some things to work on. I think I’ll hang out up here today.”
She seemed to consider you, eyes squinting and mouth pursing before she offered a curt nod. “I’ll bring something back for you then.”
You smiled gratefully at her. At least you knew if you did lose Remus and Sirius, you would still have friends who cared about you. 
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Sirius spent most of his life believing he’d never be worthy of nice things. He was raised by monsters which meant he was a product of monsters; he was basically a monster.
He knew that the Black Darkness was always simmering just below the surface. It was archetypal of Black’s to explode; to lace their words with venom and strike at their victim, always aiming for the jugular. It had been Sirius’ own M.O. for his whole life. He had nearly lost everyone who ever meant anything to him on account of it. He had almost lost Moony.
Which is why it was so important to him that you never end up the latest victim of his Black Darkness. He was so afraid of disappointing you, letting you down, making you feel unloved. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to live with himself if he slipped – if he said something or did something to make you hate him. 
And it wasn’t just you he was worried about hurting; he knew if he hurt you, Remus would likely never forgive him.
Remus may have forgiven Sirius for his Darkness once; he didn’t want to risk trying for a second time. Sirius felt he’d hit his threshold for forgiveness – one more sin and he’d be on his own, surely.
So, he walked away. He tried to do it nicely – to excuse himself politely, assure you he’d be back in no time. 
But he still left.
It was cowardly. 
He needed to talk to you.
Which is why Sirius could be found that morning sitting at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, knee bouncing frantically under the table and his body turned towards the entrance – waiting for you to make an appearance.
Except, you never came.
“Wait, Shelby just walked in without her. Where is she?” He asked despondently, turning towards Remus. 
Remus watched as Shelby and a few of your other friends sat at their usual places without you. “Come on.” He said quickly as the two of them stood and made their way over.
“Hey Shelby. Do you know where Y/N is?” Remus asked quietly, hoping his guilt didn’t permeate his tone. Unfortunately, under Shelby’s scrutinizing glance, he was sure he had been found out. 
“She’s in the dorm.” She said flatly, looking between the two boys. 
Sirius exchanged a glance with Remus before continuing. “Erm, do you...do you know why?” 
Shelby furrowed her brows “all she said was she had ‘some things to work on’ and that she’d be in the room today.”
Remus hissed under his breath and pulled Sirius aside.
“Pads, I’m sorry, but I think-”
“What is going on?” Sirius interrupted.
“Last night, I... I think Y/N was upset?”
“Upset? With me?” Sirius asked, shame worming its way through every cell in his body. 
“I don’t know. I... I don’t think so. But she...she said she’d ‘see me around’ and then called me Lupin.” 
All blood drained from Sirius’ face as he considered Remus’ words.
See him around...see him around!? What the hell did that mean? Did you not plan on seeing them again? Oh gods...you never planned on seeing them again.
“Rem...” Sirius breathed out, leaning against a pillar for support.
“I know, I don’t-”
“Good grief, what’s gotten into you two?” James commented as he walked into the Great Hall with Lily, who opted to carry on in her search for Regulus as James took in the state of his two friends.
“Well? What’s got you in such a twist?” He pressed when neither boy offered an explanation.
“It’s Y/N.” Remus admitted.
“She’s leaving us.” Sirius blurted.
“Okay, we don’t know that.” Remus conceded.
Sirius scoffed. “Well, she basically told you to go fuck yourself last night and now she’s avoiding us; what do you call that?”
“She didn’t tell me to go fuck myself!”
James groaned and rolled his eyes before grabbing Remus and Sirius’ shirts and dragging them over to the Slytherin table.
“That’s it. You guys need to talk to Regulus.” James muttered.
“Regulus?!” Sirius sputtered, looking at James incredulously. “I’m not asking my baby brother for relationship advice.”
“You’re not asking for relationship advice. You’re asking for his perspective on his own relationship.”
“Ew! That’s worse! I don’t want to hear about my baby brother’s relationship with my adoptive brother.” 
“Oh for- you are going to listen to Regulus’ perspective on what it’s like being added to a polyamorous relationship last.” James pressed, tone implying no nonsense. 
Sirius (unwillingly) and Remus (placidly) were dragged to the dark side (read: the Slytherin table) to be read their Miranda Rights have their asses handed to them by one Regulus Arcturus Black. 
“Reg, dear. I’m begging, pleading, on my hands and knees: put the poor sods out of their misery.” James said as he bodily sat Remus and Sirius on the bench across from Regulus.
Lily snickered and poked her nose into Regulus’ cheek, causing the youngest Black to blush, though the rest of his face remained stoic as he sized Sirius and Remus up.
“What have the two of you done now?” He drawled. “I can’t help but notice one third – arguably the better third - of your little trio is missing.”
Sirius scoffed, though he didn’t argue – Regulus wasn’t wrong per se; he loved Moony, but you were indeed the best of the bunch.
James cleared his throat pointedly as he shot Remus and Sirius a look.
“Right, er” Remus started awkwardly. “We seem to have, uhm. I mean to say that-”
“Why does Y/N hate us?” Sirius spat, slapping a hand over his mouth immediately afterwards as if those words had fallen from his mouth without his consent.
“Y/N? As in your girlfriend, Y/N?” Regulus asked, moving his eyes between his brother and his brother’s boyfriend.
“Yes, as in our girlfriend.” Remus muttered.
“What did you say to offend her?” James asked unhelpfully.
“Do you think if we knew that, we’d be here right now?” Sirius spat back. 
“No, I don’t think that.” Regulus answered for him. “What I think has probably happened is she’s feeling terribly insecure in your relationship and neither of you have done anything to help her.”
Well that shut Sirius up... Sirius noticed that Remus was pretty quiet too.
“Were...” Sirius asked, grimacing when he looked over at Lily and James knowing this was teetering slightly into the realm of things-he-doesn’t-really-want-to-know-about-his-brother’s-relationship-with-his-best-friend territory. But damnit, Sirius was as desperate man. And desperate times called for desperate measures. “Were you terribly insecure when you started dating...these two?” Sirius sneered the end of his sentence earning him a ‘hey!’ from Lily and a solid whack up the back of the head from James.
“Yes.” Regulus answered simply.
“Why?” Remus asked, looking desperately close to pulling out his notebook to take notes. Scratch that, Sirius watched as James swallowed a teasing remark when Remus actually pulled out a notebook to take notes. 
“It’s hard coming after. There’s a part of your brain that convinces you that you are second best; that you’ve somehow come in second place. If that’s not bad enough, then you begin spending time with two people who already have history, already have a connection, and already have a rhythm that doesn’t leave much room to pull you into the mix. And if it does pull you into the mix, you end up feeling terribly guilty for disrupting that rhythm. It’s all quite difficult.”
Sirius’ mouth hung open at Regulus’ demure tone on what sounded like a really heartbreaking situation. 
“Let me ask you this,” Regulus continued, unawares of Sirius’ inner dialogue (which consisted mostly of panicked ‘oh my gods oh my gods oh my gods oh my gods). “How has your relationship – between the two of you – changed since you added a third?”
Remus and Sirius exchanged a glance before looking back at Regulus. “Uhm...not, really?”
“Not much at all.” Remus admitted more clearly.
“I see...” Regulus said, narrowing his gaze. “And how much time have each of you spent with her individually without the other present?”
Regulus got his answer in the form of awkward silence. 
“How did either of you expect your relationship to work if neither of you were willing to change the nature of yours in order to help it grow?” Regulus spat. 
“Well...” Remus started, but his sentence died when he realized there was nothing to say. 
“But...you stayed? Why?” Sirius asked his brother.
At this, Regulus’s face fell as he gave Sirius a sad smile. “Because of how we were raised, Sirius. I was so excited to be wanted, even for a moment, that I was willing to beg for scraps of whatever I could sink my claws into. She doesn’t strike me as that kind of girl.”
James and Lily looked forlorn as the latter placed her hand on Regulus’ shoulder consolingly. 
“It didn’t hurt to have the walking definition of unconditional love and the smartest, most intuitive witch I know to notice any discontent on my part.” He admitted shyly, earning him a smack of a kiss on the cheek from James.
“Gross. You guys are sickening.” Sirius muttered petulantly.
“So?” Lily interrupted what was close to becoming a squabble between the two Black brothers. “What are you guys going to do?”
Remus sported a determined expression as he looked to Sirius. “We’re going to make it right.”
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Shelby stood by her word and brought your breakfast. She also brought you lunch, and then dinner. But by the following morning, she was tired of playing the role of house elf.
“Alright, are you going to tell me why you’re avoiding Lupin and Black?” She asked plainly, plopping herself down uninvited onto your bed.
“Wha-? I’m ... I’m not avoiding them.” You lied poorly.
“Please; don’t spit on my muffin and call it frosting, Y/N. You’re obviously avoiding them.”
“I...ew?”
She groaned and fell onto her back in defeat. “Please, for all that is holy, tell me why they’ve been following me around like kicked puppies hoping I’ll take them to their master?”
You rolled your eyes and turned back to your book that you held open but had never been reading. “Yeah, I’m sure they’re real upset.” You muttered.
“That’s it.” She spat and plucked your book out of your hands, throwing it over her shoulder unceremoniously. You cringed to think about how Remus would feel seeing a book treated in such a way.
“I was reading that!”
“Don’t lie to me again.” She said, levelling you with a ‘no nonsense’ look. “Spill.”
You sighed deeply, looking toward the window to try and find the words you’d spent the last 24 hours trying to formulate. She never rushed you for your answer, giving you all the time you needed. 
“I feel insignificant.” You admitted finally.
“And?”
You turned to face her, bemusement painting your features. “What do you mean, and?”
“And... have you spoken to them about it?”
You felt a little embarrassed to admit that no, you hadn’t.
“Why not?”
And that simple question seemed to set off all the emotions (mostly frustration) that simmered beneath your surface.
“Because Shelby. Because I don’t want to have to beg for love and affection. I don’t want to have to tell people how to love me; they should just already love me. I don’t want to feel like I’m intruding in someone else’s relationship. I don’t want to have to point out that I’m here and I’m hurting. It’s mortifying. I... I think I’m just done.”
Shelby nodded in understanding before she stood from your bed. “Then you need to finish this today. No more hiding in your room being angry by yourself, and no more letting them sniff around the castle like dejected little runts. Put all three of you out of your misery.” 
It was your turn to nod as you too stood from your bed, ready to face possibly one of the most heartbreaking days of your life.
But Shelby was right; it was time. 
The worst part was that Shelby had been telling the truth; Remus and Sirius did look like kicked puppies. 
The second you had entered the Great Hall you heard a crash of knees against benches and cutlery clashing as Sirius clumsily tried to vacate his seat in record time to make it over to you.
“Y/N!” He called, as if you could have missed the racket he made just prior. 
He looked gaunt – like he hadn’t eaten or slept enough (in the only less than 48 hours) since you’d seen him last. His eyes were red and a little swollen, like he’d been rubbing at them.
You immediately felt sick with guilt; if he really was struggling with things with his family, the last thing you wanted was to add to his stress. But Sirius was looking after himself, and Remus was looking after him too; someone needed to think about you. You had to look after yourself.
Remus didn’t look much better, approaching the two of you much more slowly, hardly making eye contact with you as if you’d lash out at any moment. You had to admit that it annoyed you a little bit.
“Hi Sirius.” You offered, voice grating over the sudden tightness. “Remus.”
Some of the tension seemed to leave Remus’ shoulders as he made an effort to make eye contact with you.
“Can we talk?” He asked timidly. 
You knew what was coming, what was happening, what you yourself had come here planning to do.
But it broke your heart nonetheless.
“Sure.” You whispered, and exited the Great Hall without waiting to see if they were following you. 
You walked into an empty classroom and leaned against one of the walls as Remus and Sirius closed the door behind them. They shared another look and stood opposite of you.
More secret conversations. You thought bitterly. And doesn’t this just paint a lovely picture; them versus you. 
“Y/N. We, uhm...we’ve been talking, and we realized that...that maybe we haven’t gone about this the right way.” Sirius started, looking at Remus continuously as he addressed you. 
We’ve made a terrible mistake. 
“We didn’t take into account the ways in which our relationship would have to change in order to make the three of us work” Remus added.
We didn’t realize how much you’d take away from us, you heard
“We feel like we’ve been unfair to you, and... we’re really sorry.” Sirius concluded, looking like his heart had been ripped out of his rib cage. You supposed that would make sense, considering that’s how you currently felt yourself.
It probably hurt all the same to them – they’d be losing the friendships the three of you had created too; the friendship you had with Remus, the friendship you had with Sirius, and the fun the three of you had all together. But you still loved them, and the last thing you wanted to do was to interfere in their relationship.
“It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault.” You admitted finally. “It was just a mistake.”
Remus’ head cocked to the side like a confused puppy whilst Sirius’ eyebrows furrowed. “Well...I, I’m not sure-” Remus started but was cut off by Sirius.
“Wait, Y/N, what exactly do you think the mistake was?”
You looked between the two of them as you lifted your shoulder. “I... I guess including me?” You stated as a question.
Sirius actually sputtered as Remus stepped towards you, stopping himself seemingly before he made to grab you.
“No! No, Dove. That’s not a mistake!” He insisted.
“Are you kidding? You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to us – no, no. This...wow, okay. Can we start from the beginning, please? Why do you think this was a mistake?” Sirius managed to (barely) get out.
You looked to the ceiling, eyes stinging at the reality of having to voice your hurt. “Because” your voice came out embarrassingly high. “Because it-it felt...better when we were friends. I didn’t feel...in the way. And it felt easier. Just - I didn’t mean to come in between you, and I never...” you cut yourself off, quickly moving into hyperventilating territory. 
“But-”
“It’s not a mistake!” Sirius shouted, cutting Remus off. “This wasn’t a mistake! You weren’t a mistake. I... okay. I didn’t mean to fall in love with you, that’s true. But I don’t consider that a mistake. Not you, never you.”
“It was a surprise; a happy accident.” Remus added hopefully shy.
You felt drunk...dizzy...beyond confused. Weren’t they breaking up with you? Weren’t you supposed to be breaking up with them!?
“I think it was easier when we were friends because we weren’t putting so much pressure on ourselves to get this right.” Sirius explained.
Remus nodded and continued. “Sirius used to get so jealous if I got to hang out with you without him if he was at practice – took us a while to figure out that it was because he wished he was the one hanging out with you. When we started dating, I guess Sirius and I figured we’d just make sure to always hangout with you together so that neither of us felt left out. But we never even thought about how that must’ve been making you feel, dove. I’m so sorry.” 
“Regulus read us our rights.” Sirius admitted abashedly. “He pointed out that the relationship between the three of us will only work if our relationships with each other are strong. And we didn’t make our individual relationships with you a priority – that was our mistake, Y/N. Not you.” 
“Our mistake was believing you would just ‘catch up’ to where we are – which is years in the making – and also expecting you to somehow do that on your own. It was selfish and thoughtless.” Remus stressed
The things they were saying made sense and spoke to your very soul, but you couldn’t shake off this lingering feeling of dread.
“I... I should have said something... about how I was feeling.”
Sirius sighed, but it was Remus who spoke. “I think all of us could have done a better job communicating, that’s true. But we should have been more considerate. We asked you to join us, dove; we should have made that easy for you to do.”
“To think how much grief we’ve caused ourselves, when we could have just solved this all with a conversation.” Sirius mumbled dejectedly. 
“We’re not too late, are we? To solve this?” Remus asked quietly. Sirius’ eyes looked like they were close to popping out of his skull as he stood and made for you, grabbing your hands pleadingly.
“Oh gods, Y/N. You... you were breaking up with us, weren’t you? You thought we were breaking up with you?” His voice sounded very close to a sob.
“Please...please dove I- I don’t know that we deserve it, but please give us a chance to make this right, to do this properly. Give us a chance to love you the way you deserve.” Remus begged, moving to stand in front of you with Sirius, though he controlled his urge to grab your hands. 
You looked between the two boys; the two boys who you’ve been basically in love with for so long – the two boys who have proclaimed to feel the same way about you - and wondered to yourself again:
Have we made a terrible mistake?
Remus’ golden eyes shimmered with compassion and warmth, and Sirius burned fiercely in devotion and promises.  
Had you made a mistake? Falling in love with them?
No.
Perhaps Remus was right. Perhaps this was a happy accident.
“Okay.” You whispered. Remus exhaled the breath he’d been holding while Sirius’ face morphed into a small, hopeful kind of smile – far shyer than you were used to seeing from the boy.
“Okay?” He asked, moving his hands up from your wrists to your shoulders.
“Yeah... I-I don’t want to lose you guys.” You admitted wetly, a tear betraying you as it fell down your cheek. Sirius was quick to catch it with his thumb.
“Never, dove. Not if I can help it.” Remus promised. 
You believed him.  
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your-nanas-house · 9 months
Text
The Beginning
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◇ Pairing: Tom Riddle X professor!Reader
◇ Warnings: smut, manipulation, forbidden relationship, Tom Riddle, bath, nudity, dub-con, short age gap
◇ Summary: Tom notices that his favourite professor is a bit stressed.
◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Both character are aged up. Part 2 Part 3
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The room was filled with the chit chat of students who were taking the Defence Against the Dark Arts class, a subject often called simply DADA by everyone.
In the background of the big lesson room, there was soft music that created an almost pleasant atmosphere in contrast to the type of class that was taking place which had quite heavy topics that frightened many and intrigued others.
One of those people who were fascinated by the subject was Tom Riddle himself, clever boy, Slytherin and much more, especially the darling of professors, of every professor, except Albus Dumbledore, so the young professor Y/l/n was no exception.
There was a special bond between the wunderkind student and the professor, almost intimate if someone misinterpreted it but it was nothing like that or at least that was how it was for Y/n, the young witch had only managed to get her job a few years earlier and right from the start, thanks to the passion for her subject shared with Tom, they began to bond.
The Slytherin student who had now come of age and managed to become the head boy as well as a prefect, had approached the teacher to find out more secrets about magic and because he surprisingly found their conversations interesting as well as entertaining.
This was the real reason why he had started a few months after he met her to pretend to meet her by chance while walking around the castle, thus starting a routine between the two of them that happened almost every day if Y/n wasn't busy with her duties as a Hogwarts professor, which happened sometimes and which annoyed Tom for some strange reason.
Y/n was convinced that Tom saw her as a mother figure, someone to follow and learn from, and so did the young adult, but everything changed one evening.
After a busy astronomy lesson Tom wanted to visit his favorite teacher before heading back to his dormitory but when he reached the door of her classroom, hoping to find her still there, voices made him stop in his tracks.
The door was slightly open and he could easily see what was going on inside Miss Y/l/n's classroom.
She was inside, leaned against a table as she listened attentively to what someone was saying to her, Tom couldn't recognise the man so close to the woman with that look that the student had learned was lustful from the experience of his peers.
The whole situation awakened something all too well known inside the Slytherin heir, envy, pure green envy and resentment turned against them, something animalistic flared up inside him, a need to prove himself just as he had done at the orphanage when he was still a child.
Perhaps that was the reason that started the break of the platonic feelings the student had for his teacher.
New thoughts ran through his head as he decided how to move the pawns of his game in such a way as to receive what he wanted and thought he deserved, waiting patiently for the most suitable moment which came one summer night.
It had been a few months since the beginning of her senior year but they were almost at the end, his attitude had not changed in the slightest towards Miss Y/n and so the young woman did not suspect anything when she received a letter from Tom asking her for urgent help and giving her the coordinates of where to meet.
Worried, the young woman rushed to what she discovered was the prefects' bathroom, she was breathing heavily and was ready to solve whatever the problem was.
The young woman however had expected everything but her favorite student to wander calmly around the bathroom as he arranged the water and suds, meeting her eyes with his cold black ones, a faint smile forming on his face when he spoke "professor".
The atmosphere was suspicious in a way, suspicious but relaxing, since the aroma of soap filled the room as Tom tended to his clothes leaving them propped elegantly on a chair so they couldn't get wet "what's going on, Tom? I got your owl and I came as soon as I could" Y/n declared while she looked around, studying the bathroom in order to understand the riddle and discover why Tom Riddle had made her run all the way there.
She didn't even realize what the boy was doing before he was surrounded by the water and the foam caught her attention again.
Tom was standing in the tub, his clothes forgotten on the chair as the water made his pale skin and nearly Greek god muscles stand out; Y/n couldn't help but notice how his student had grown over the summer, making space for a decidedly attractive young man who reminded her very much of a Greek statue while her y/e/c moved around studying the parts of his skin on view, reaching his neck and finally his face.
She only realised she was holding her breath when their eyes met again, the situation they were in became much clearer to her and a blush appeared on her face making her turn quickly to give privacy to the young man who was staring at her amused with an unfamiliar twinkle behind his pitch black eyes.
She could hear him moving in the water, probably moving closer to where she was before speaking again "I've noticed that you are under a lot of stress lately....I thought a bath might help you, professor" the Slytherin revealed with a mischievous smile that relented slightly when she politely declined several times before attempting to leave the room, soon ending up in the water though, Tom's arms wrapped around her as if they were two snakes, his breath was warm against her neck and she could feel him take in her scent before letting his lips graze the delicate skin of that area "I know you want it too" whispered the young man almost in an attempt to seduce her as he sensed the shiver that ran through her body.
"No one will have to know, my mouth will remain closed" he whispered again, licking this time behind her ear before starting to play with her lobe using his teeth "come on...professor".
Miss Y/l/n's eyes flattered closed despite the fact that she tried to fight her lust, but it was immensely difficult with Tom's large, long hands, which traveled slowly all over her body exploring and almost expertly touching the areas that would make her give in.
It was as if there was a study behind it, his hands traveled with the wisdom of someone who had studied but not yet experimented with practice, this however did not silence the voices telling her not to do it.
The struggle in her head continued and the more time passed the harder it was to resist, especially now that the young adult's body was right against her back and she could feel everything from his muscular chest to his abs to his hard cock against her lower back.
His warm breath was against her now cold neck, making her
shiver and sigh deeply memorising how Tom was touching her because it had been quite some time since she had fucked anyone.
Despite the urge boiling inside her, Y/n shifted, slipping from the wizard's strong grip, stopping his next movements by placing her hand on his smooth chest.
Tom's black eyes met her y/e/c's, his large hand with long, skinny fingers wrapped around her wrist, slowly moving it to his lips, his tongue tracing its way to the inside of her hand before stopping to allow their lips to meet in a strangely soft kiss.
Miss Y/n's tits were against Tom's muscular, pale chest, her hands buried in his black hair as the boy's arms were around her waist bringing her even closer to him.
Their lips moved slowly, both of them lost in the shared sensation, exploring one of the tastes after another. It all ended, however, when Y/n regained control, noticing the head of his cock brushing against her entrance almost as if teasing her.
Reason because she forced herself to pull Tom away from her before licking her lips, weighing up her various options, she wasn't going to go all through with one of her students, it wasn't even supposed to end up like this and yet there she was in a bath with the most talented student at Hogwarts trying to seduce her.
Tom moved closer just as her internal debate ended, it only took her hand to stop him and her gaze followed by a teacher's tone to make him obey "get out of the water, sit on the edge of the pool...this is to stay between us, it won't happen again and I don't want to talk about it ever again, do you understand?" she asked after a few seconds the last question before admiring how Tom's body, shifted and emerged from the water to position itself like she had asked.
And there he was, Tom Marvolo Riddle, in all his glory and nakedness, his legs spread for her and an intense gaze focused solely on her. The young professor had listened to several conversations of the horny schoolgirls going after Tom but had not at all expected what she had in front of her now.
That didn't frighten her though, they had already reached a moment of no return and her hands instinctively moved to the young man's muscular, hairy thighs; they traveled a slow, teasing pace that made all the remaining blood go right down into his now rock hard cock.
The wizard admired closely as Y/n's hands moved over his length, pumping him a couple of times using the water as lubricant before she moved her face closer and left little licks on the tip.
Their eyes met and her mouth continued to work on him, exactly as her hands did, causing small moans followed by hisses that came out of Tom's perfect lips.
His dark eyes had not yet moved away from her just as Y/e/c's were still focused on him, it was intense.
Her tongue came out of her mouth to lick the entire length a couple of times and then take him completely in her mouth, deep throating him without him expecting it.
Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, Tom's thighs shaked slightly under her hands as sinful grunts escaped his lips; his hips began to move without even meaning to, his tingling hand lusting for dominance gripped her wet hair in a tight grip so that he could choose his movements.
His hips moved swiftly as he fucked her mouth mercilessly focused on achieving his first peak of pleasure, it was a almost suffocation feeling, Tom needed more, much more, but he had almost reached his peak.
The wizard only released his hold when he came, now leaving Y/n free to move as she wanted, despite this the young witch focused her attention till the end on his tip, sucking gently as her hands massaged his balls almost as if she was milking him.
As soon as she realized she had taken every last drop, Y/n slowly pulled away, swallowing it all while looking into Tom's eyes.
The young professor had to avoid him in order to reach the entrance to the prefects' door without falling for another attempt at seduction by the student.
The two looked at each other in silence, Tom wanted to say something but Y/n silenced him with one last kiss, followed by an elegant movement of her wand and three words "this stays here".
As soon as she finished speaking she walked out of the bathroom leaving Tom standing there all alone, looking at the door, his body now dry and his uniform back, it was as if nothing had happened, as if everything had only been in his head but the lipstick marks proved something else.
In fact they only confirmed the wonderful and unexpected sensations he had felt in those few minutes he had been with her, he knew that she had sensed that it was the first time he had done this kind of activity but he also knew that she wanted more, he wanted more, there was something more and Tom was going to take it at all costs.
Things had not begun and ended that night in the prefects' bathroom at Hogwarts, the wizard would make sure of that and he would not put an end to what he had managed to get…what he had been craving for some time and now knew he could have.
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Taglist:
@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @monkeyking-and-liuer-mate , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @huntress-valkyrie , @lostmyremembrall, @pastelpiisces
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simpjaes · 3 months
Note
dilf!jay and babysitter!reader 🫣
- 💗
this has been sitting in my inbox for a while and i think about it consistently.
like, single dad jay hiring the hottest girl he can find on purpose? getting turned on by the way you clean up after your messes in the short moments he sees you? Loving the way you mother his child in a way a wife would? In the way a mother would? dilf jay, fisting his cock in the middle of the night despite him needing to be up at 6am for work, thinking about the way your shirt looked when he came in from work just the night before, soapy suds soaking through the fabric on your chest? dilf jay, wanting a completed family so bad that his thoughts are centered around you, the college girl who is just trying to make a bit of extra cash to pay for her books....what happens if he just buys those books for you on top of your pay? What happens when he buys you a new car so you can stop worrying about your old junker breaking down? what happens when he asks you to spend the weekend with him and his child on vacation?
who knows? all you know is that Jay is hot, and his child is not only manageable, but an absolute angel most days.
of course you don't think twice when the two of you are sipping wine on said vacation, and his hand strays. of course, you spread your legs for him when he slides his hand down, whispering words of "you ever thought of being a mother?" and "i would take such good care of you, baby, think about it for me, yeah?" and he did take care of you at the end of the day. with the college expenses, gas for your new car, spending money, a house stocked with food and hobbies you could pick up if you wanted to. That little babysitting job became almost a full time job outside of classes, with a boss too willing to make it worth the time. Were you a baby sitter at this point, or just a paid wife to roleplay with him? was it really even roleplaying even? When you find yourself in your dorm room wishing you were in his bed again? Wishing that you could wake up to that nice fucking kitchen, with the nice fucking big screen television, and the nice fucking cock he's always willing to get wet for you? Always sliding in nice and easy, cooing in your ear about everything you could have if you stay? is it really roleplay at this point? what's so wrong with being a wife so young anyway? After all, his kiddo already begs for you when you're not there, he's told you that much. plus, the idea of some other girl coming in and babysitting turns your stomach to knots. Jay is yours, and the darling child of his? You love them far too much to let go at this point too. You're locked in, and you don't mind it a single bit.
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tarjapearce · 9 months
Note
Lips anon! I think one of the most intimate moments between mother and child is the first hair wash. Especially for curly babes. I'm just imagining the wife remembering Gabi's first wash while doing Benji's. Gentle scrubs and lots of suds. She puts him to bed, and Miguel comes home from work. They decide to bathe together since both the kids have been put to bed. Then they have their own intimate moment with her washing and massaging his scalp and stuff lol just something really fluffy I thought of
THIS IS SO SWEET OMG ❤️❤️❤️.
And the perfect chance for them to makeup 👀
A bit long ❤️ Hope you like 🥹.
Sudsy hands gently massaged Benjamin's head, his little feet splashing water, reacting with an uneven toothy grin whenever you cooed him. You kneeled by the enormous bathtub as you bathed him.
His rubber raccoon floating next to him along some other toys. Long lashes twinkled with the warm water, chubby and full cheeks moved as your baby babbled.
"Oh, I like the soapy water too, specially when it's warm." You rinsed his head carefully removing the baby scented shampoo from his head.
"There you go" You wrapped him in a raccoon themed towel, a matching set you had gotten in the baby apparel section at the super. You dried him well, put on a diaper and some comfy pjs.
You heard Miguel's heavy steps on the bathroom, preparing the tub for his use as you put little Benjamin to sleep and kissed him goodnight. You checked on Gabriela and kissed her forehead before tucking her in the sheets and closed her window.
Kids were asleep, and you only had one space to go back to. Hesitant steps made you approach your room that for some reason had turned into a silent battlefield. Ever since the fight, the tension between you and Miguel had only strengthened; but were careful enough to be a subtle as possible about it, the least you two understood much was that your children were definitely staying out of whatever was brewing.
You closed the door as you rummaged through your drawer of pjs, looking for one to change into. He passed next to you, grabbing a towel but stopped in his haste. You were tiny next to him, but with the current state of your emotions, you felt away. Away from his touch, away from his warmth, away from him.
He hated himself for creating this rift between you, but loathed even more the fact that you were giving him space. Being at odds with you didn't sit right in his chest. And the three days you had spent away from echother, yet in the same bed, made his heart to beat painfully. He'd never forget the way you were tucked on your side, wiping tears, shielding from whatever word he was about to spill. He didn't sleep that night.
He felt your body stirring awake around seven, ready to prepare Benjamin's bottles and wake Gabriela up for school.
His massive back faced you as you said your good mornings. There was no kisses on his cheeks to wake him up, No hug from behind and the nuzzle of your nose on his neck. None of your feathery eyelashes tickling the skin of his cheek. Just a meek and distant Good morning.
Gabriela was too busy with school to actually notice the awkward and forced interactions between you two. And for once he was grateful that Benjamin was... well. A baby.
Seeing him tense next to you made you recoil even more to your spot, not wanting to trigger another fight. His jaw clenched as his throat constricted. Even though you had said that you weren't afraid of him, your body language acted so cautiously around him. Wary to not make anything that would get him talking to you like the night you fought.
He didn't know who was to blame, his rising and brewing anger, or Alonzo. He sighed snd looked at you.
"Can... Can you" He trailed, unsure of his question, "Can you join me at the bathtub?" his voice gentle and careful.
The question threw you off guard, you stared at him for a couple of seconds and nodded.
He threw a couple of lavender bath bombs, your favorites, in the bathtub as the foam bubbles were rising. You removed your clothes and wrapped yourself in a towel. You were the first one in getting in. He joined you a couple of minutes later. You were across him, the foam almost engulfing you as he sat in front of you.
The warmth of the water made your tense muscles to relax slightly. His hand caressed your forearm and pulled you closer to him. Face to face as some water splashed on the floor. He was warmer than the water, a touch you had longed for the past three days.
Tears welled up in your already glossy eyes, he cupped your face and wiped out your eyes.
"Im sorry." His forehead colliding softly against yours, breath fanning over your lips.
"I just... What is going on, Miguel? Have... I done something-"
"No. no. Far from that. I've been an idiot. Me he comportado como un completo imbécil y en el proceso te lastimé. También a Gabi." (I've been an ass and I hurted you and Gabi in the process.)
You didn't have to know spanish at full to know he was admitting his mistakes.
"Im just worried, Miguel. I don't know what is bothering you or where this anger comes from, but... seeing you punching that man-"
"Scared you?"
"A bit. Yeah."
He casted his gaze down, shame washing over him.
"It's... so much going on that, seeing that man touching you was the last straw. My job is transferring me to another unit without consulting me, the house renovations are surely taking a good chunk of the savings, and... Gabriel is just... he barely talks to me anyways."
You grabbed a washcloth and soaked in showel gel, then began gently lathering up his torso with it, as if washing away his worries.
"Maybe he is just busy, you both have demanding jobs."
"I don't feel like I'm doing a good job as a husband and a father." he blurted
You nearly gasped at his confession, and cupped his face, conveying all your love with a single touch.
"Mostly of the time I come home you're ready to put Benjamin on his crib, Gabriela is too tired to play and... you." You shook his head and kissed him.
"No. Don't say that, please." you broken voice made his eyes snap at you.
"Gabriela and Benjamin love you. So do I. Is because you work so hard we try our parts as well. We try making things easier on you because I know it's hard."
"Still isn't an excuse to hurt you and my daughter."
"All I am asking is for you to tell me when something is bothering you. We are a team, Miguel." Your hands made him look at you, and you kissed him softly.
"I am here. I am your wife. We are a team. We don't do things solo anymore okay?"
He took your hand and kissed it, then twirled you around so your back was resting against his broad chest. His frame engulfing you.His arms securing you as his lips kissed your side of the head.
"I hate when we fight."
"Hm. Same." you nodded as your fingers entwined with his.
"I promise to do better. To communicate more."
He grabbed the washcloth and gently washed your arm to then kiss your neck
"Can't lose you over stupid shit."
"You won't. I love you too much to give you up so easily." His hands gently caked a bit of your rose scented shampoo on your head, dexterous fingers massaging your scalp with devotion. His chest finally got rid of that constricting and choking feeling.
"Still, I'm sorry."
"I accept your apologies. I'm sorry too. Should have talked to you sooner instead of just... letting this to grow bigger."
He nipped at your earlobe and kissed your cheek, peppering it in affection.
"We good?"
"Only if you massage my shoulders." he chuckled at your petition and squeezed you tighter against him.
"Te amo, chaparrita." (I love you, little one.)
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Text
Left Behind and Bleeding
Summary: you’ve been feeling forgotten all week when your period shows up you just want to curl up and hide. Will your girlfriends look after you this time?
TW: Angst, periods, being forgotten, anxiety, feeling left out, abandonment issues, self-doubt, mentions of drug use, teasing
Words: 1.2K
A/n: it’s that time of the month when I hit you with another period fic lol. Sorry it’s a bit short. Also … I may be projecting again … maybe hehe.
It had been a bad few days to say the least. To start off you had plans to hang out with Natasha, but she got given a last-minute mission, so you had to postpone. Which would have been fine on its own, but it seemed yo have sparked a pattern.
All week people had been cancelling on you, having some reason or another that seemed valid at the time but looking back made you overthink.
Wanda had some people she needed to visit, and you understood. But everyone seemed to be prioritising other things. Even your mother wasn’t answering your calls. Leading you to believe she was either dead or ignoring you.
On the fourth day of having nobody to hang out with in the usually very busy tower, you were getting fed up.
Your mind had been trying to spin a story that everyone simply didn’t like you. That they would rather hang out with other people and that you really didn’t have anyone in your corner.
Of course, you had been fighting the notion for days now, but it was getting harder to ignore as people continued to have bigger, better things to do without you.
Nat had gotten back from her mission and had immediately gone to do some training and after you caught her watching a movie with Clint. You had moped around your room all afternoon, feeling like you were a B-list avenger at best.
Your mind had convinced you that nobody cared and so you had spent the afternoon crying alone in your room.
When dinner came, it seemed everyone had returned. Something you had not been counting on, so your eyes were still red and puffy when Jarvis announced dinner.
In a panic you threw on some sunglasses in an attempt to keep the others from finding out.
Yet it had simply orchestrated a point of teasing for the whole meal. Everyone wanted to know why you were wearing them, but you kept your head down and tried to seem cheerful.
Sam was trying to convince people that you must have been high, while wanda could practically hear your loud thoughts from the other end of the table. Her and Nat exchanged expressions when you got up from the meal not even halfway through.
Feeling awful you almost cried when you got back to your room to discover your period had started.
Life seemed to be throwing more than a few curveballs at you, it was throwing the full field.
You stuck in a pad and threw on some warm pjs before crawling under the covers and letting a few tears fall while your breathing evened out.
Wanda had finished her dinner around the same time as Natasha had so, they had met up in the kitchen while washing their dishes.
“Wanda?” Nat asked from where she was drying her plate off.
“Yeah?” Wanda asked, her hands covered in suds.
Nat chewed her lip for a second before carefully selecting her words. “Was there … anyone off with Y/n these last few days?” Nat asked.
“I don’t know why?” Wanda said and Nat frowned.
“What do you mean ‘I don’t know’ werent you here?” Nat said.
“No? I told you I was visiting friends for a few days.” Wanda said.
“Oh my god.” Nat said feeling bad. “Did we both ditch her for a week?”
“No? I mean surely, she had the others to hang out with. Right?” Wanda said.
“Jarvis?” Nat called to the ceiling.
“Yes, Ms Romanoff what can I do for you?” The AI responded.
“Who in the past week has cancelled plans with Y/n?” Nat asked.
“In the past week I believe each of the avengers have been either ‘too busy’ or had ‘other plans’ to spend time with Ms L/n.” Jarvis said.
“Oh god.” Wanda said. “Jarvis? What has Y/n been doing this past week?”
“Ms L/n has spent most of her time in her room. Either sleeping or crying. She also has been avoiding everyone for the last half of the week.” Jarvis said and Wanda and Natasha’s hearts broke.
“We are the worst girlfriends ever.” Wanda said feeling awful.
“We should go check on her.” Nat agreed and the two of them headed for the lift.
When they stood outside your bedroom door Natasha hesitated for a second.
“What if she doesn’t want to see us?” Nat asked.
“Im sure she will, it’s Y/n. She may be sad but her hearts still twenty-four carat.” Wanda said and Nat nodded and knocked.
When no response came, she gently opened the door. Making out a Y/n shaped lump in the bed she entered and quietly walked over to your side.
Wanda took note of the chocolate wrappers on your bedside table and the hot water bottle you had cuddled up to.
You had seemingly used your powers to heat up the water-bottle and your brow was creased in pain.
“Nat?” Wanda said and Natasha nodded.
“I see.” She said.
Wanda sighed and slipped into bed behind you. Gently playing with your hair as Nat went to search for some pain medicine for you, knowing that you wouldn’t have taken any yet.
Wanda rubbed slow circles on your back and brushed a hand onto your cheek.
“Y/n baby, can you open your eyes for me my love?” Wanda asked softy. You let out a small whimper and Wanda’s heart melted.
“Wands?” You asked in a small voice.
“Yes, baby its me.” She said pressing a featherlight kiss to your cheekbone.
“Hurts.” You said softly and she nodded.
“Natty’s gone to get you some medicine.” Wanda said just as Natasha walked back in with some pills and a glass of water.
“Here you go my sweet girl.” Nat said as wanda helped sit you up, leaning into her side.
Nat passed you the medicine and you took it without protest, telling both girls just how bad you were really feeling.
“I’m sorry we weren’t here my love.” Nat said brushing a curl from your cheek.
“That’s ok. You had important things to do.” You mumbled into Wanda’s chest where you had buried your face.
“Baby girl, nothings more important than you.” Wanda said stroking your hair.
“Why don’t we put on a movie, and you can try and get some sleep ok?” Nat said gently and you nodded, shuffling over to make room for her on the bed.
Wanda used her magic to open the small mini fridge in the room and floated a pint of your favourite icecream and three spoons over.
“I got this for you before I left my love.” Wanda said with a smile passing you a spoon.
Natasha slipped in beside you and Wanda, passing you the remote you put on an episode of Parks and Recreation as you began to eat some icecream and cuddle.
After a few spoonfuls Nat stole the container, Afterall you have been making a mess. There was even icecream on your nose which wanda softly kissed away, making you giggle as you begun doze in the presence of your two amazing girlfriends.
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byunpum · 1 year
Text
Experiment 56 [part 2]
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Neteyam x Human reader ( like a mix of human and Navi )
and sullyFAM x human reader, why not?
Tw: mmm neteyam baby, reader being mutant, neytiri being a sweetheart-mother, A bit of violence, reference to harassment, A little sad, soft and some Kisses. all the characters are aged up 20's.
POV: Y/N is surprised that it is an indispensable piece for the human race. But for her family…
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 | PART 7
Experiment 56 masterlist | Experiment 56 sequel Masterlist
Note: Omg thank you all for liking the first part, I did not know that all of you would be so interested. Well, well, here I leave the second part, I still don't know how many parts this series has, it all depends on how you react. This part is a little sad, but you will like the ending. From now on I warn you that I am not very expert in this Navi culture, but I did my best. And I'll be using events that happened in the movie, but they won't be exactly the same. And sorry for the spelling. English is not my mother tongue.
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"Good morning general ardmore, I request my presence?"." Good morning colonel quaritch, and yes I need you very urgently." Miles took a seat at the table, and gave his full attention to General Ardmore's words. "I have a mission for you, I know you are in search of jake sully, but if I tell you that there is something more precious than the head of a simple soldier who decided to be tarzan?" Miles settled back in his seat," You have to tell me what is more precious?". "Twenty years ago, pandora's team of scientists began a series of experiments. Their goal was to achieve a perfect blend of human and navi. We were tired of transferring our sud quotient into avatar bodies. We wanted to be real. There were many failures, but I understand there was one specimen that survived." Miles was trying to analyze the information, "You're telling me there's a mutant out there? What does he look like?". General Ardmore scales up her touch screen in the air and shows him some models, "She. She's a girl, we estimate her to be in her early 20s. But she is the first of her species. She possesses a human body, but the ability to breathe pandora's air and most importantly her queue."
" A new specie?" miles was a bit in a state of shook, how come he didn't know about this when he still had his human body. "You know so little miles, there are many things that even you and I don't know about. The agency has plans and that girl is the key. She is the center. And the only thing I know, is that when she was a baby she was adopted by sully. "That doesn't surprise me…" a little smirk tugged at Miles' lips." Just find her, bring her back alive. I don't want her to have any bumps. In perfect condition. In addition… you'll find Jake sully. You kill two birds with one shot," said General Ardmore, as she passed him the information on the last location. "Expect nothing less." Miles stood up from his chair, ready to leave home with his group.
And here you are… on the floor. Crying and being held at gunpoint, while your family was also screaming to be released. "ok ok, SHUT UP EVERYONE!!!" shouted miles, as he searched for the beast that had described to him earlier. But their eyes widened, when they saw you. You were beautiful, long hair, beautiful eyes, and your skin was adorned with moles. and yes, just as General Ardmore said, you had the distinguished queue of the navis. Quaritch knelt down in front of you "I had not been told how beautiful you were. Wow…" This was a trigger for neteyam.
Neteyam was right next to you, on the floor. While his head was being pushed to the floor. But when he heard quaritch words, his blood boiled. "Don't you dare touch her!!!!" Neteyam shouted as he tried to attack Quaritch. The man hit him in the head.
"no, please!!! enough!!!!!!!" you scream in fear you don't know what's going on. But you didn't want your family to get hurt. Least of all neteyam. Spider, loak, tuk, kiri and neteyam were tied to a branch. While you were placed in front of them on another branch. "tuk, calm down…. Mother will come for us" says kiri trying to comfort her younger sister. And she was quite right.
Neytiri and Jake had already arrived at the lab area, just a few minutes before you all had run off. Jake knew something was wrong. They entered the forest carefully and that's when Neytiri heard her children's screams. Or not, this was not good. One thing was for sure, you could bother neytiri all you wanted, but don't mess with her kids. She ran off to the spot where she heard the screams, while Jake followed her. When they arrived they hid.
"We have to save them!!!" murmured neytiri to Jake "love, we have to be careful. Let's wait for the exact moment." While neytiri and jake watched the situation from a distance, but the view was not very clear. Quaritch moved a little away from the group of soldiers, so he could call the ship. He needed to get you out of here. At that one of the soldiers began to look at you more than usual.
You were wearing traditional Navi women's clothing. And we all know that these soldiers were not used to seeing women. Neteyam noticed this "stop looking at her you bastard" the man looked at neteyam and approached you. " or what are you going to do?" the soldier started to lift your top "don't you dare…leave me" you were desperate. But this didn't stop him, he took his blade and cut your top, so that your breasts were exposed. Neytiri saw the scene, and if it wasn't for jake grabbing her by the arm and telling her to approach calmly. She would have slit that man's throat. Kiri was screaming, spider is asking her to stop and loak was crying. The scene they were witnessing was horrible. Neteyam is screaming, showing his fangs, pulling so hard on the bindings he had, he was about to dislocate his arm. No one was going to touch you, much less like this.
Quaritch showed up and pushed the soldier to the ground "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!!!!" He yells, as you try to roll into a ball. You felt exposed. Neytiri had teached you to take care of yourself and that no one should touch you without your permission. You didn't understand why that man was treating you like that. "Come on Colonel, we can have some fun with this creature…don't tell me you don't see her beautiful." That was the last straw. Jake fired, and neytiri came out of hiding to use his arrow. It was a strong encounter, but when Jake managed to free Neteyam, he ran to you. He cut the bindings, grabbed you off the ground and ran off.
"run and don't look back" order neytiri as she continued fighting the soldiers. You all kept running, jake and neytiri were right behind you. Once you all made it deeper into the forest, it became difficult for the soldiers to keep up. At that moment, the quaritch team's ship arrived. All the soldiers got on, but there was a warning "Sully …. I'm going to find her, you won't be able to hide her for long." The hairs on the back of Jake's neck stood up, as he was hiding with his family. He looked back, and watched as you were hiding in neteyam chest. You had no clothes on, and your arms and legs had been injured. His heart broke into a thousand pieces.
"Let's go home," Neytiri said, as everyone walked in silence and fear. Neteyam was holding you in her arms, tears were coming down from her eyes. Only images of what those men would have done to you if they had captured you were running through his head. Arriving at the refuge, Neytiri took you from Neteyam arms and went to the hut where her mother Mo'at was. Kiri and tuk followed her, everyone was silent. Jake just looked at the boys, his look was one of anger and sadness.
Neytiri healed and took care of you. She saw how tears came out of your eyes. She knew she could not ease the pain you felt. You had been treated like an animal, you were hurt. "I'm so sorry my dear, I'm sorry" says neytiri as she bandages your wounds and strokes your hair. Kiri and tuk are by her side, comforting you. They shared your pain, they saw everything.
Neteyam was outside the mo'at hut, along with spider and loak. "See!!! I told you it was dangerous to be there!!!" said neteyam as he faced his brother. " Hey, I didn't force you guys to follow me, plus I had no idea this was going to happen!!!" loak tried to defend himself, but neteyam is furious. "Of course not, you never know anything. You risk everyone without thinking about the consequences. Look what they did to y/n. They almost…" "that's enough… we know." Spider interrupted neteyam. "guys calm down, I know what happened was horrible. But we're okay now." Neteyam looked back at spider, oh god… the anger in his eyes was horrible "you… don't go near y/n again, I want you away from her." He looks up and looks at his younger brother "and the same goes for you" Neteyam walked out towards the family hut.
Loak was silent at spider's side. Loak knew his brother was rationing his emotions, he knew how special you were to him. He knew he could ignore what he said, since you and Loak were best friends. But what he said to spider was serious. Neteyam liked spider, but he didn't like your relationship with him. Neteyam had a plan to take you as his mate, but once he heard how norm and Jake said that you and spider would make a good couple. And he wasn't sure if his mother would accept this. Neytiri loved you, but as her daughter. How would she react to telling her he loved you.
It was already evening, Jake entered the family hut. He found Neytiri cooking, you were lying on her chest, sitting on her lap. You were small, so Neytiri had no problem doing her chores with you on top of her. You were of adult age, but to Neytiri you were her precious child. Neteyam was at her mother's side helping her. Jake came over and stroked your head, you were asleep. "She's hurt," said Neytiri. "I know, it was something…" jake paused. "we have to get her out of here, her and our family". Neytiri looked at jake in surprise. "no, you're crazy… here is their home. They grew up here, you are toruk makto" neytiri is trying not to scream, but she was getting flustered." But what's the use of being toruk makto, if those bastards want my family "Jake sits next to neytiri. "but jake where will we go?". Jake looked at neteyam, who was still there, right next to his mother." We'll find a place, we'll be fine. If we stick together everything will be fine."
It was already late and everyone was resting. Neteyam got up from his side, and lay down next to the front of you, he is inches away from your face. He loved how small you looked compared to him. Shit she has me under a spell, he said to himself. As he traces circles on your shoulder. Little did they know, this was his favorite time. Where you could be together, if only in silence. You opened your eyes and saw neteyam, he had a small smile plastered on his face, as he came up to kiss you on the lips. Everything was so quiet and with carefulness. They didn't want anyone to get up and see you guys. You laughed a little, you were still in low spirits. But knowing that neteyam was by your side, calmed your heart. "I'm so sorry ma y/n" neteyam spoke, as his fingers played on your waist, down to your leg. "Don't be like that…you were there. You took care of me ma neteyam" you placed your hand on his cheek. Neteyam relaxes and moves closer to you, as his tail wraps around your leg. You felt his breath on your face, they were so close. "someday… someday" said neteyam "yes, someday", you told him as you gave him another kiss on his lips. Someday you will be able to unite before eywa. But still not the time.
In the morning, tuk woke up earlier than the others, she turned to her left side to look for her older brother. Not seeing him, tuk took a seat and saw how his brother was lying right next to yours. Very close, very warm. She giggled a little and picked up Kiri, "What do you want? It's too early" kiri was trying to get up while wiping his eyes. "Look at that!!!" tuk pointed to the romantic scene between you and neteyam. "aha I knew it… spider owes me lunch." Tuk laughed a little and kiri got up to wake up her older brother, she knew this was secret. so they couldn't let their parents get up and see the romantic scene.
"hey get up!!!" kiri said as she moved her brother, neteyam got up startled. "i…this…is not what it looks like. Y/n had" kiri put his hand on his brother's mouth "shhhh your secret is safe with me" kiri said as he laughed a little. "That scares me."
"Hey!!!!" kiri and neteyam started to play, making you stand up. "hey, you two can shut up." Neteyam laid on top of you and gave you a kiss, while kiri made a disgusted face. The moment was interrupted when Jake started to get up. Everyone straightened up and acted natural or so they thought.
"family, everyone upstairs we need to talk." Jake said as everyone settled down. "What I'm going to say is something important and I want you all ready in 10 minutes." Said Jake stretching, knowing that the decision he was about to make was going to change his whole life.
My sweet tag list: @st4rrry @valeriinee @inutheangel @gielrmn @sloppierjewel @purple7theparty @itscheybaby @ssc7514 @namorslit @ducks118 @tpwkstiles @elli-aesthetics @nao-cchi @uselessbutinteresting @msjae @austynparksandpizza @gamorxa
(tag list is open, just let me know *3*)
p.s: Guys, do you mind if the reading is long? If I make it short, I feel I won't explain myself properly. Even in this one I summarized as much as I could. I hope you like it a lot. Soon part 3!!!
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celestialwhoree · 2 months
Text
🎀🍼
What time is it?! More single mom!reader time!
Someone dropped into my inbox asking for Single mom! getting upset at her daughter and yelling at her and then crying about it. I needed a minute to cook but I'm here now.
"Come on, Lottie." You huff desperately, covered to your elbows in suds and applesauce as you try and fail to get your daughter into the bubble filled tub. "If you take a bath, I'll let you watch Bluey before bed." Has the three year old perking up, albeit barely, still stroppy about some trivial thing or another. She's probably still sour about you saying no to having cake for dinner, despite the fact that you'd relented this morning and allowed cake for breakfast, on the condition that she also had some strawberries to 'cancel the sugar out'.
"I wan' see Riley!" She pouts, stomping a tiny, chubby foot against the tiled bathroom floor. Ever since you'd dog sat for Simon on his latest deployment, Charlotte had decided that Riley was more her dog than his, and despite the fact that you too, absolutely adore Riley, the thought of bothering Simon any more makes you physically wince. "We can see Riley tomorrow." You attempt to bargain, growing more frustrated the longer you sit on the edge of the bath with your daughter looking at you like you're unreasonable. You never thought you'd see the day where you could get genuinely upset at a three year old covered in apple sauce and glitter glue. You've already had to fish a clip on earring from her mess of hair, and now you're at the end of your very, very long, single mother special edition, extra strength rope. "Wan' see him now!" Has you practically on the verge of tears. Today has been one of those impossible days where all you can think of as you're working out how much you have to spend for the month and whether you need to call a plumber out for the kitchen sink, is whether it's all worth it. Sure, going back and grovelling would be shameful, gut wrenchingly so, but at least then you wouldn't be alone.
"Charlotte, get in the bath or I'll put you to bed with no TV time." The unrelenting growl of your own voice feels foreign as it echoes around the tiny bathroom. You hate playing the bad cop, that was never your role, you'd always been the one to pick Lottie up after her dad laid down the law, take her for ice cream in the park or to feed the ducks. Now you're forced to do both. Charlotte, being three and having no care for the fact that she's making your life more difficult than it needs to be, simply sticks out her bottom lip and quivers her chin a little. Which, under normal circumstances, would make you give in and try to chase her down with a wet wipe, or coax her with the mermaid barbie doll that 'lives' in the bath. "Charlotte. Bath. Now." Of course, she'd had to have your spirited nature and unwillingness to give in passed on to her like a flaming torch, like you were Prometheus, being punished for giving fire to man. "No!" She shrieks, and that's enough to tip you over the edge. "Fine, bed then! Go on! Go and get in bed all dirty and see if I care." You snap, fingers pinching frustratedly at the bridge of your nose, trying to hold back the angry tears threatening to spill.
You're too consumed by hurt and endlessly roiling frustration to see where she storms off to, allowing yourself just a moment to sit on the edge of your shitty bathtub and let it all out. It was hardly ever that you got angry at Lottie. It was practically impossible given your situation. She doesn't understand where her daddy is or why you needed to go without him, nor why she can't always go and play with Simon and Riley whenever she wants.
"Charlotte?" Simon is confused and more than a little concerned at the snotty three year old currently stood at his door, cheeks ruddy with tears and little fists balled as she walks past him into his flat. "Wan' play wif Riley." She babbles, toddling through his entrance hall to the living rim, where the K9 gladly greets her with licks to her cheeks, making her giggle. "Where's mummy, Lottie?" Riley is called to heel, told to calm down so that Simon can understand why he's currently got your three year old crying in his lounge. "Baffroom." The toddler mumbles, seemingly perfectly content to get comfortable on his couch with Riley, burying her little face in the fluffy golden scruff of his neck. "What do you mean, bathroom, poppet? Is mummy alright?" "Mummy cryin'." "Did something happen?" In her usual way, Charlotte completely zones out from his line of questioning, too engaged with snuggling his dog.
The toddler wails and kicks when she's hoisted up onto his hip and carried back through the concerningly open door of your apartment, still swinging slightly on its hinges from where Lottie had thrown it open. "Love?" Simon calls into the seemingly empty house, your daughter on his hip and Riley waiting at his feet, wet nose twitching for any smell of the familiar woman who feeds him treats and scratches behind his ears. In seconds, Riley is tearing into the dimly lit bathroom, jolting you from your meltdown, followed rapidly by Simon and a tired looking toddler. "Love? Darling, what happened?" He's crouching at your bare feet as you sit defeatedly on the rim of the tub, your chin in his hands, tilted this way and that as though to make sure you're not hurt.
"Charlotte wouldn't get in the bath and - and" You can barely get your words out before you're wailing into your hands again, hiccuping pathetically at your situation and the fact that such a simple thing has the strength to derail you entirely. "Ah. Wondered why she came round mine all huffy and puffy." "Oh my God, I'm so sorry - You must think I'm awful." "I don' think you're awful. I think you're fuc-fudging amazing. Look at you, are you jokin'? Raisin a kid all alone, startin' a new life just the two of you. You're a trooper, yeah? I've seen soldiers weaker than you." "You don't really think that." You sniffle, inadvertently leaning your cheek into his palm when he reaches up to wipe your tears. "Course I do. You're brave and kind and beautiful. You've done a hell of a job with the little spitfire over there. Don't think I've ever come across a woman I admire the way I do you."
The way his words, aloof, distant Simon Riley's words make butterflies flutter in your stomach should be illegal. The way his eyes are so warm and dark like the comfort of a warm bed after a long day makes your heart pound and your breath catch. You know you shouldn't feel like this, for Charlotte's sake, and his, and yours, and yet you can't stop yourself. For the first time, you're falling, hard. Not for danger or the lure of the unknown. No. You're falling for the safe, gentle domesticity that Simon offers you in the waiting palm of his hand, like feeding a frightened animal in the hopes of coaxing them into the safe warmth of a home.
。 ゚ ꒰ঌ ✦໒꒱ ༘*.゚
I didn't mean for this to be 1.2k oops I got totally carried away 😚
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hunterbunter3000 · 1 year
Note
OH LORD MAMA TAKE THE WHEEL THISNIS MY LAST ONE.
imagine the boys just got back from a mission and when they enter the base, they found sweetheart cooking their country food for them. The taste is giving ✨SEASONED✨, its giving ✨you want me to marry you✨, its giving ✨that type of food that added 10 years to your life span✨, ITS GIVING ✨YOU DID A VERY GOOD JOB AND IM PROUD OF YOU✨
NOOOO NEVER STOP THESE I SWEAR YOU'RE JUST FINE 😍😍🫂🫂 these give me life you have no idea miss roro💕
(@missroro ROROOO GURL IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK FOREVER😭😭 PLS FORGIVE ME I WAS SHADOWBANNED AND THEN OTHER ASKS KEPT POURING IN🧎‍♀️this is quite long, so hopefully you will take that as a sacrifice for my tardiness 🙏I hope you're doing well! I miss you LOTS 💓)
BUT UGHHH GOD
And the FACT that I already have a scenario that's kinda like this blows my mind 🤯🤯
When Sweetheart wasn't needed for this certain mission, she said "aight bet. I know yall are gonna be so damn tired and hungry so watch this WORK."
(Idk if you wanted Sweetheart to cook her home food, or cook their country meals, so imma do both 💀)
Her home-cooked food:
When Task Force 141 came back to the base they smelt that SEASONING IMMEDIATELY LIKE--
Gaz: Something just happened.
I know he's the FIRST to book it to the living room, and then he sees the PLETHORA
GRITS, SWEET YAMS, MAC AND CHEESE, CHICKEN, HAM, GREENS AND OX TAILS, CORNBREAD-- ALL THE GOOD SHIT YOU CAN THINK OOOFFF
Gaz squeals (LITERALLY SQUEALS) cause he's been wanting to taste her cooking.
(He's always asked about African-American cooking since he grew up with British cooking. Sweetheart told him the goodness and he's been hooked on it ever since)
Everyone else comes in and sees the table and they're just in shock
Like what the hell- how long did it take you to make all this?? I love you???
It felt so domestic, like coming home to a home cooked meal after getting off work and seeing your wife smile at you saying "welcome home, dear!"
Sweetheart is just beaming at them, saying "I know yall have been through hell, so have a lil' piece of heaven!" (She's so CHEESY) the mother in her comes thru, telling them to take showers and get situated first then come eat.
WHEN I TELL YOU THAT THEY B O O K E D IT TO THE MENS SHOWERS TO GET CLEAN-- GHOST PUSHED ALEX AND SOAP INTO A WALL SO HE CAN GET THERE FIRST (König and Price were already in there LOL they're witches I swear)
They were done so quickly Sweetheart had to check if some of them were actually clean
Sweetheart: Suds?
Soap, flushed: uhm, yeah?
Sweetheart, eyes squinting: Did you wash yo' ass?
Soap:
Soap: Yes...?
Sweetheart: GO GET CLEANED
Soap: BUT FOOD--
Sweetheart: G O
(Alex and Gaz low key laughing at him and Price is disgusted that Soap sometimes doesn't wash his ass)
They all finally sit down and they just enjoy the warm feeling in their chests while looking at the food. Sweetheart turns on some r&b music (is this a black 80s BET movie? MAYBE) and she walks to the edge of the table, eyes are filled with love and pride for her team. "Aight, I'm gonna keep this short and simple cause I know all yall are hungry and tired," she starts. The team sit on every word she says, as they always do. She smiles. "I'm glad you all made it back safely. Successful mission or not, I will always be proud of all of you. I love yall."
She's too good for them, man. Wtf
They all just fell in love with her more AHA
So she sits down and the chatter and clatter begins. They all moaned so much when they ate the food 💀💀
(They all went into a food coma and had the BEST SLEEP EVER)
--
(If she made everyone's food from their culture) (I put my whole ass into this wow)
When SAS and Los Vaqueros trudged through the hallway, they heard a clang and a yelping "Ow! Son of a-"
Price and Ghost look at each other before picking up the pace towards the kitchen. "Sweetheart? Are you -" Price freezes when he sees the kitchen filled with different types of food. " - Okay..."
"Oh fuck-- Hey! Yall are back already! That's wonderful." Sweetheart nervously laughs as she wipes her hands on her messy apron. The others start to come in, not expecting the different dishes on the counters. She squeals, "Nah uh! Don't come in here! Go and get cleaned now, all of you!" They stare at her for a bit until sprinting to the Men's Showers. Shouts and loud bangs from falling tact gear are heard, making Sweetheart chuckle and shake her head. Once the men came back to the kitchen, she was gone and so was the food. "In here!" She yelled. Soap made it first to the dining room and let out a big gasp. On the long, make-shift table sat a multitude of different foods and drinks each man recognized from their home country.
"Oh, mo leannan, this looks barry!" Soap exclaims.
"In English, Mactavish." Ghost mumbles, making Soap kiss his teeth. "This looks wonderful, St.! I'm- how did you--" Sweetheart shushes him, Soap still smiling ear to ear. "Don't ask questions! Just come sit down and get your plate."
They all grab a plate and utensils with rushed steps and big smiles.
- 𓆩♡𓆪 -
Price, Ghost, and Gaz sat at the end, where they all recognize the things to make Bangers and Mash. Shepherd's Pie and Fish and Chips could be found on all their plates with a side of Barm cakes. Their dishes melt in their mouths, dragon breathing at every bite since it was still hot. Ghost had a feeling in his chest that he felt extremely warm and overwhelming. He didn't think she would make something like this for him. "How're yall enjoying it?" She asks behind Price. "Umberweivable!" Gaz spouted out, a disbelief and amazed look on his face. Sweetheart laughs at him, "Hopefully, that meant unbelievable!" Gaz nods quickly with big food-filled cheeks. "Absolutely amazing, Princess." Price says after taking a swig of homemade Ginger Beer. "Haven't had Shepherd's Pie and Ginger Beer in so long. Good run down memory lane." Price smiles with soft and grateful eyes. Sweetheart snorts out a laugh and taps her cheek. Price raises an eyebrow until the embarrassment creeps in. He grabs his napkin and wipes the food that was stuck to his cheek. "I'm glad you like it, Cap! It was so hard finding an easy recipe for that damn beer." Sweetheart grumbles, looking at the kitchen with furrowed eyes and hand on Price's shoulder. He leans into her touch and sighs. "All in all, thank you." He murmurs, lifting her hand and placing a kiss on it. Sweetheart giggles, ignoring the heat coming from her hand. "You're very welcome!" She moves to Ghost, who has been quietly shoveling food in his mouth. "Hey Ghost! Are you--" Sweetheart stopped when he looked up at her. Eyes big with tears running down his flushed, stuffed cheeks. His eyes tick away from her changed face. "What...?" Simon whispers. She gives him a soft smile as one of her hands wipes off his tears. He didn't even notice the tears falling... "You enjoying the food?" She asks softly. Oh, that tone. That tone she uses only for Simon. He shivers, nodding his head slowly and then laying on her hip. She coos, wrapping her hand around his head while giving him head scratches to calm him down. You're alright, Simon. She's saying through her touch. Enjoy yourself.
Soap was practically vibrating in his chair when he saw a pitcher of Scottish Ale next to a big pot of Cullen Skink and an array of Scotch Pies with small Bacon Butties on the side. He did a double take when he saw a dish filled with Stovies and fried cut potatoes. Just how he ate it when he was younger. He lets out a disbelieved laugh as he reaches for it. "St.!" He calls out to her. She comes over with a worried look. "Wassup Suds? Everything okay?" He looks up at her with glassy eyes and a smile, nudging the Stovies. Sweetheart snickers, "I told you I would make it! I remember you tellin' me that your...màthair? Or-- mudder- damn I forgot how to say it-- but ya mom use to make this for you! So I looked up a recipe and may have added some of my extra spice to it." She explains as she whispers and laughs that last part. He can't believe that she remembers that. He told her that when he met her; telling her all the different Scottish cuisines. "I hope it tastes good..." She mumbles to herself. She cares. Soap grabs his spoon and collects some of the dish. She cares so much. Memories going through his mind when he chews it. She cares too much. "It's delicious." Soap whimpers out. Sweetheart smiles as she bends down to hug him. "I'm glad you like it."
Alejandro exclaims loudly when he takes a bite of his abundantly covered Elote. Rudy chuckles at him, taking another big ladel of Pancita and putting it in his bowl. "Hey guys, are you- WOW," Sweetheart yells. "You guys really ate almost everything! The Tamales and Flautas are gone..." Alejandro hums as he swallows. "So is the Ceviche and the Pipián." They both laugh at Sweetheart's surprised face. "Yall were hungry!!"And we still are, mama!" Alejandro snickers, taking more bites of his corn. "Mi flor, how did you make some of these dishes? And by yourself?" Rudy asks. He's so proud of her. He feels like he's back at home. "Oh, I had some help! Kinda-- some of the rookies helped me make the dishes! But then I kicked them out cause they were getting on my nerves." Sweetheart said, making the men laugh. "I knew you were a good cook. You would make a good wife someday, Sweetheart!" Alejandro shouted out as he smiled. Her shy laugh made him feel warm, but he wants his statement to come true.
König wanted to cry. He hasn't seen such a big pan of Tiroler Gröstl in a while. A basket of Kaiser Rolls is next to some Kasnocken and a pot full of Potato Gulasch. He scratches the brown hood he has on. Sweetheart made it for him so he could wear it when he's on base, since his other one was stinking up the joint. He watches Krueger take a big bite of his food and gulp down his drink that tastes like Almdudler. He's also wearing a hood that Sweetheart made for him; light blue fabric and handmade yellow stars scattered around it. It's scrunched up to his nose, his scarred lips still munching on his roll. He seems to be enjoying himself. König hasn't eaten with Krueger ever since they were kids. The impact on Krueger's actions in the past really changed everything for König and the family. But at least they're bonding in silence. "Hey, you two! Enjoying the food?" Sweetheart asks. Sweetheart. "Yes, meine kleine Göttin. It's very tasty." Krueger compliments her. She giggles, but it's cut short when Krueger grabs her arm and kisses her cheek. "Thank you for this wonderful feast, my love." He whispers in her ear with a smirk. Her mind goes blank for a moment, the heat of the kiss still searing on her brown skin. König grips his fork hard, turning his knuckles white. She sputters and then loudly laughs. "Yeah! No- no problem! I uh, König? How you uh, you enjoying the food?" He looks down at his plate, still quite full of food, yet not feeling like eating any of it anymore. König smiles with his eyes. "I am, Schatz. Thank you."
Horangi was enjoying himself to the fullest. Slurping down some Jajangmyeon with korean fried chicken and Kimchi fried rice with an egg. It reminds him so much of his mother's cooking, and when he didn't receive any Valentine's Day gifts so he would eat the noodles on Black Day. He blows on the noodles, the steam fogging up his black sunglasses. He wishes his past choices didn't bring him to this point. To be reminded of what he had, and now it's gone. He drank some of his soda, causing a big burp outta him. "You seem to be enjoying it, Horangi!" But without all his choices, he wouldn't have met her. He chuckles, covering his heavily scarred smile with his hand. Her warm hand snakes around his, gently pulling it down. She wants to see his smile. Her eyes sparkle at seeing his half-uncovered face. He's so pretty... "You like the noodles? M'sorry if I got the sauce wrong, I think I forgot some ingredients--" Horangi shakes his hand up. "No, no! It's perfect. The black bean sauce is amazing. I almost finished the whole pot." He's extremely impressed by her, but the cold feeling in his spine is wanting him to put the mask back on. Sweetheart squeals and claps, "Oh wonderful! I'm so glad you like it! By the way.." She leans down to hug his frozen form. "I hope to see your smile again. It's very pretty." She says. He is not grateful for his past choices, but he is grateful for her.
Alex and Roach enjoy their food in comfortable, happy silence. Alex hasn't had a decent cheeseburger since his leave. He dips a crinkle cut fry in ketchup, while Roach enjoys a big Maine Crab Roll. He's never tasted one before, but he always has, ever since Sweetheart gave him a postcard with the Roll on it, it's been his dream to taste one. "Yo, Alex! How's the burger?" Sweetheart asks, walking up to the both of them. Alex hums with a smile on his face. "You can't go wrong with a cheeseburger unless it's from a dirty bar." Sweetheart laughs, "Amen to that! And you're you doing, Gare Bear? Ya like the roll?" She asks sweetly. Roach can feel his face heat up from the nickname. He puts it down, finally taking breaths from horking it down non-stop, and putting two thumbs up. Her bright smile made both of them feel warm inside.
Graves sighs. His bones and joints hurt so damn bad. That mission with everyone was successful but it always costed some type of labor pain. He went to his dorm, already clean and changed into casual clothes. He could've sworn he heard laughing on the other side of the base... It didn't matter to him. All he wanted to do was to sleep off this pain. He notices a big plate covered in tin foil and a small note plus a coke-a-cola on his door mat. His eyes scan down the hall way with confused brows. Is he being pranked by one of his shadows? He better not be, he doesn't have the patience for it- Oh it's from Sweetheart. Wait- "What?" Graves mumbles, eyeing the messy note. The note reads:
Hey Graves. Congrats on the successful mission
Made you some dinner cause I'm pro proo pri PROU FUCK proud of you. That is the only time I'm gonna say that to you and it's not even in person. Doesn't matter, enjoy the food
Sweetheart ♡ (p.s. you still an asshole and NO I did NOT put laxatives in your food this time)
He huffs out a chuckle with a wobbly smile. So she does care for him. In a-- weird, hateful way. He walks in his dorm with food and drink in hand and opens the tin foil, the smell of barbecue baby back ribs, steamed carrots, buttered rolls and mashed potatoes fill his nostrils. His mouth waters immediately as he sits in his desk chair. He digs in with the utensils that Sweetheart gave him, his mind immediately going to his repeated fantasy about having a family with Sweetheart. Her, serving him a big plate of food with their baby boy on her hip. She kisses Graves's forehead and situates their son in the high chair before she starts to eat as well. A happy smile works on his face, not feeling the tears streaming down his cheeks. A happy family. "It's delicious..."
- 𓆩♡𓆪 -
After Dinner Bonus!
"Hey, no one go ANYWHERE! Yall are helping me clean all this shit up!" Sweetheart points out with a frown. Soap laughs, "Of course, hen! Why wouldn't we?"
"You did a lot for us, Princess. We'll take care of everything now. Go and take a load off." Price says close to her. Very close to her. "Nah, I can help!" Sweetheart pushed. "Your shoulder has been bothering you, hasn't it?" Ghost said, making Sweetheart flinch. "Why you gotta call me out like that, man?" Sweetheart whined. He was right, though. She's been rotating her left shoulder from time to time, playing it off every time one of the boys asked about it.
Alejandro laughs, placing his hand on her hip. His thumb doing small circles on her thin clothing. Rudy and Krueger strolled towards Sweetheart. Rudy wore a soft smile, yet his eyes told a different story. A more mischievous story. Alejandro's voice dropped an octave, making a hot jolt spike through Sweetheart's spine. "Come now, mama. I know just what to do to help you relax."
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°.Reblogs are highly appreciated.! Thank you for your support everyone!!
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buzzkillers · 4 months
Text
Burning like embers (falling tender)
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Pairing: Regulus Black • Black!Reader
Summary: Regulus kidnaps the bride. (Wc:5k)
Warning: Dubcon, Kidnapping, Semi Unrequited Love, Attempted Non-Con, Pseudo-incest, Pureblood Politics, Regulus Embracing His Flaws (Yt and British)
Beta: @darksideofthecocoamoon !!! This would've been way worse without her.
.
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Regulus Black was not a good man. 
Good men existed in folk tales, in between the thick yellow pages of his childhood books. Where nobility and honor was permeated in ink and their righteousness was outlined in bold roman font, the letters too tiny for baby regulus to read. It was hard to be a good man,  he learned. And by the age of twenty four, he was barely a man at all. 
Rather melodramatic. His mother had said. 
Mother also said he should feel lucky.  
It was luck after all wasn't it? His mother said. A gift to have all of his boyhood crushed out and replaced with a substance that no good man ever possessed. Voldemort knew how to show his favor. He should've been grateful. 
And Regulus was. Grateful that is. He was grateful in the way ravens were grateful for a murder, fire to wood and a cowardly man to…well to him. Regulus. Who had no problem bringing all of these things to fruition. Better than him than the others. His colleagues that liked to add to the fire and wood first, turn a flicker flame to a conflagration. 
It was good that he had all of that goodness ripped out of him, the remnants stuck between Voldemort's teeth.  
Because good men became drunks; drunk on alcohol, indulgent on cheap thrills and even cheaper whores. Complacent. Regulus thought.  
Vermin. His father corrected. Dogs that pretended to be wolves before they latched back on their leashes and trotted home; clean shaven and pristine. 
Regulus knew good men well afterall. 
He's killed many. 
A poison there. A dog bone here. Family cemeteries made entirely in his name. 
So when he said he wasn't a good man, it wasn't an attempt to be humble or modest or bashful or coy or any other fanciful saying. Regulus Black was not a good person. 
The mark proved it. 
The murders cemented it. 
And your body chained to his bed, screamed it. 
Or maybe that was simply a gross overstatement? 
The word 'chained' naturally made one think of those muggle devices. A crude contraption with metallic locks and easily hexed metals. (An insult to human ingenuity, really.) No, your chains were of the metaphysical kind: sophisticated, invisible, snug. It was the nicest thing he's ever done for an opposer to his Lord. 
Unfortunately, you were not raised by Mother. So you didn’t understand to be grateful. Which was a shame. Even a bird admired their cages eventually. It was the least you could do. 
But of course Regulus' life was unfairly hard and his options null. So instead of admiration and dutiful respect, you laid with your back turned and her body curled against the dark corner of your bed. Small and pitiful— a bit wet too. 
Funny.
Maybe he should've called you a fish instead. You wouldn't laugh but it would be funny. After all the white gown that clung to your body was completely translucent, the edges covered in soap suds. (Nastily, Regulus Black curled his bruised lips; a caged bird indeed.)
He closed the door behind him.  
His own clothes drenched and his fingers bloody with scratches before he dumped the wand in his hand to the ground. It clattered unceremoniously. 
"My bird," he began, voice smooth, annoyed. 
"I hope you're incredibly happy with yourself," he slipped his loafers off and untwisted his family rings.  
"There's a dead wizard at our doorstep because of you," parts of him anyway.
The rest of him was about a few yards out. With chunks of flesh too burned and scarred to be identified as human spewed across the acres of land. (Dog meat, his father would say. Hopefully the animals thought the same.) 
The whole ordeal was unnecessarily messy you see? Uncivilized even as he looked at the 'dog' blood splattered against his light robes. Angered, he unbuttoned that too. 
"It was an avoidable death, don't you think?" 
"A complete waste of my time, even?" He cocked his head, his voice heavy with something that made your back tense. 
Yet of course, you refused to turn around, to look back… 
A recent nasty habit of yours as he threw his robes on a nearby chair. The excess blood dripping from hand woven cloth onto the concrete floor. A familiar sight. 
Slowly, his eyes dragged to the wand on the ground, so small and twiggy. It reminded him of the toy wands he saw poor half-bloods play with when no one was looking. A scrap of trash. No different than what you'd throw for a animal to catch. 
Yet, it took death for the wizard to let it go. (A dog and its bone.)
He frowned, then snapped it beneath his heel. 
Magic spurted out and when he looked up your head swirled back towards the wall. He frowned again.
"You could at least cry," he said, voice hoarse. 
“He died for you after all,” 
Besides your frame, a lamp flickered and its shadow danced across your back. He licked his lips, hmm. “They all died for you, actually,” 
"Should I tell them to stop?" He murmured. But you only curled further into yourself. Like a victim, like someone that's done nothing wrong. He gritted his teeth. "No that won't work, you'll just keep sending them," Regulus kicked the wand across the room. 
"Maybe if he had served his purpose…." The air crackled. “..But alas,” Then he crossed the small room and plopped himself on the bed. His head cushioned against the duvet. 
"What did you tell them anyway?" he whispered, before something cracked and your cuffs pulsed. He smiled.  
"Did you say you were captured? That I was holding you prisoner? Did you lie, birdy?" He whispered, before slowly you sat up and turned your head. Your pupils were fat, your breath still.  
"Shut up," 
"B-" he started before all air left his lungs, your hands wrapped around his throat.
"Tu putain de salope—" your knees dug into his waist. “—just stop talking," Spit flew with each word and it took everything in him not to lick it away. He could only smile and make it worse. 
Your eyes widened, a fury of emotion flickering in and out and Regulus only with luck missed the conjured dagger that dug into the place where his head once was. 
"Baise gluante-"  Then with a flick of his wrist the chains tightened, your positions switched and Regulus was on top once more. His bony fingers pressed into a neck that creaked beneath his weight. 
“That was an admirable trick,”
“You almost got me there.” He spoke too soon. 
The knife appeared again, this time pressed too close to his third rib. Huh. What was that muggle saying about kicked dogs again?
"Don’t make me repeat myself," You demanded again between clenched teeth and his skin that was beginning to unravel under the metal. Something in him warmed at that. He killed a man like this the day before. But that was more brutal, cruel even. This was not that. This violence was intimate, affectionate. 
So much so that the moment you spat your words back at him, this time he did lick it off. 
"Sweet," He murmured to himself, like burnt cranberries and raw strawberries, something natural that bursted on his tongue. He licked it again. “A little sour too,” Beneath him you laid frozen, your own eyes widened until your grip on the knife loosened. "Just like me,"
"You're sick," you said it like you were just noticing. "How could you just-"
Quickly, you took a deep breath. 
In. 
Out.
“I'm nothing like you," 
"Nothing?” 
With a grunt you attempted to get up but he kept you down with nails that dug into your wrist. An devilish embrace. "You killed him and you didn't have to, you didn't even need to touch him, you could've let him go, kept him out of it," you insisted, each word said with hard eyes and fat tears on your cheeks. "We're nothing alike," 
Regulus shrugged his shoulders. 
"Then leave," 
"…."
Outside your ‘dogs’ flesh had begun to be pecked off by the ravens and the bones by the flies. Inside, you licked your lips but you did not move an inch. “Here, I’ll even help you,” he confessed before with a whispered incantation, your chain vanished. “Go,”
A symphony of emotions flickered across your face. They all burned hot and they all made Regulus shift above your thigh. Before your knife clattered to smoke and your face twisted into something like hatred. 
His little bird drew back into her cage. 
"Yes," he sighed, his voice not at all shallow and not at all starved for air while he rubbed at the wound that would soon scar by morning, 
"That's what I thought," 
When he first met you, his first thought was: 'This isn't going to work,'  and his second thought was 'She's too good for Sirius,'
In hindsight, both statements were correct. 
You were a bold thing really. A beauty covered in rare gems and an aura that spoke of higher breeding. Mother boasted about you highly. The jewel of the west she called you. Someone, born and bred within the confines of a highly respected Afro-Caribbean pure blood family. It was a surprise that Mother even knew you but he guessed that was the point. She wanted someone not as connected in British society after all. Someone who only visited when they had to. 
In other words, the likelihood of Sirius already having fucked you was low and the likelihood  that you knew him was even lower. 
For his mother, ignorance truly was bliss. 
If not for Sirius than also for the fact that no non-British family paid attention to Voldemort.
Voldemort's tyranny was simply an English problem. The bloke didn’t seem to care about the muggles from other countries, much less ones from the Caribbeans. Still, people have heard whispers of him. Only a dip in the pond about a crazed muggleborn that had a bone to pick with British society. 
Nothing special because in hindsight, who didn't? 
So, it was unsurprising that your parents agreed to a marriage of convenience with the one family that was in His pockets. What was surprising was how well you took to it. 
According to Sirius, arranged marriages were archaic and boorish. Not because of any logical reasons like loss of autonomy but because ‘Only a pauper let's their parents pick where his cock goes'. Of course he paid Sirius no mind. 
 Yet, solemnly he wondered if you felt the same. As a boy he would've scoffed at the idea of someone not wanting to marry into the powerful House Of Black but he hasn't been a boy for a long time now. The scales had long fallen from his eyes. In the privacy of his mind, he could not say that it was truly an honor to marry into the Black Family. 
Not with the Potters and Misli’s right there. Not with witches like Bellatrix in the family. On the contrary, it's most likely that you were in for a shock. And you'd probably run for the hills while Sirius laughed into his fifth bottle of ale and mother seethed in the shadows. 
It was the logical conclusion, he knew it and father knew it. But sometimes wolves liked to just watch their prey die. And who were they to go against Mothers will? Father the patriarch and him the–good son. The dog. So he even prepared for it. What a waste of time that was. 
He told Kreacher to prepare for a crying wailing woman. He didn’t prepare for the force that walked through the door instead. It was raining when you visited but you didn't seem to notice. Instead your face was held high as you met mother, your grip firm when you met father and you smiled at him. Very toothy and almost childish but it fit you well.
Father and Mother were nervous that Sirius wouldn't take to you. That they'd have to find another poor woman for their plans but Regulus remembered the sparkle behind his brother's eyes, the twitch of his fingers when you matched fire with oil. You gave him boorish jokes with a classy smile and a mouth no different than a muggle sailor. You were everything dirty about Sirius, wrapped and repackaged into someone pretty, someone that could take it, take him. 
Regulus wasn't impressed of course. It took anyone with a halved brain cell to get along with Sirius. You were really no different than James in his mind. Someone that could code switch between two worlds without making either party uncomfortable. A chameleon with nothing inside. It was good that you only had one job really. One simple, impossible to fail job: 'Bring my son back to me,' He heard mother whisper, both of your bodies hidden in the shadows of the back rooms. ‘Bring Sirius back into the fold’ 
‘Bring him back with a mark,’ She really meant to say and then the conversation was over. 
And of course you failed. 
____
"Do not touch me with blood still on your hands,"  you barked as Regulus dipped your head into the water. The soap suds in your head mingling with the crusted blood on his fingers until the water became a dull, faint pink. 
He hummed. "You demand a lot of me," but his hands do hover away from your hair and to the lip of the porcelain tub. You'd smell so much better without the after-smell of spilt blood anyway. 
Without thinking he rinsed his hands in the water bowl by his side. His pink reflection looking at him before he went back to your puffed- no braided hair. It wasn't like that before. Did you do that while he was upstairs? With your bare hands at that? No, you must've used a spell. Strangled together the few bouts of magic his bindings granted you and did what he offered to do freely. Impressive. 
He should take it all apart. 'Just to spite you,' he thought before with a hum he squeezed more shampoo in your hair. Suds dropped to the wooden floor, and seeped between the cracks. The scent of juniper berry erupted in the air. Your hands gripped the lip of the tub tighter. 
“Sirius used to wash my hair like this.” you murmured, your teeth dug deep into your lip. “Eventually, he’d join me and we’d stay in the tub for hours,” 
He paused, his fingertips wrinkled in your hair before you took a long and hard inhale. In.  Out. 
“Is that so?” he murmured, something tough in his throat. It was only because of the hand of Merlin that he was able to sound nonchalant. 
From his position, he could not see your features. But he could look at the mirror that faced the both of you. It stood at the opposite side of the room; decorated in golds and engraved with faces that he had no interest in knowing. Your own face was the only one that captured his attention. And at this moment, it was closed off. Your lips twisted sardonically and your eyes cut to the side.  
“Yes, there was more that was happening of course, but—that would be inappropriate to tell, " you snickered as if you were the leader on all things dealing with propriety. He took a moment and breathed in. 
“Was this before or after you betrayed him,” Regulus asked. You went silent. 
Coward.
“Or do you even remember,”
“-shut up,”
“Is that a no then?” 
"Are you deaf?" you cut your eyes towards the mirror. "I told you to shut up," 
His own lips curled, "You are still wet," The suds in your hair have now dried. Leaving behind dollops of water that now pooled at his feet. The excess had begun to drip to the floor, the rest down your neck, to your back. 
"Did that also remind you of your time with Sirius?"  Then you shot up, the water falling from your shoulders.  
"Do you constantly think about what gets your brother hard?" What a dirty mouth.
His lips twisted. "You should get back in,"
"No," 
"You'll get a cold," 
You rolled your eyes. "Then you shall tell my family I died of hyperthermia, they'll believe that," 
His eyes fell flat but Regulus didn't say a word. Just kept his touch gentle, his movements soft. As if you were a lover, a friend and not—
The knife only nicked his shoulder this time.
"I said-" you shuddered violently,. "-To stop it," 
In the mirror, Regulus watched as you shot him a look. Weeks ago there was a fiery rage in there, dragon eyes in human form. Now it was just tired, bored even. Then you looked back down, silent. 
He narrowed his eyes. "Ask me,"
Your grimace only deepened, but now there was humor laced in the edges. "Ask?" your lips twisted into a nasty tired smile; 
"Demander?" You giggled. "Did you forget what's in our blood?" You questioned with all that humor quickly gone and replaced with a tone ancient and old.
"We do not ask," you sneered, then rolled your shoulders. 
"Even Sirius knew that,"
_____
You didn't even know Sirius. 
That was the worst part. You giggled in hidden corners and you kissed his hand to make the elders gasp in horror and Sirius like a fool ate it up and you didn't even know him. 
Sometimes,the depths of his brother's stupidity astounded him. Did he really think that a woman like you would just fall in his lap? You were already out of his league. A barmaid would be a better fit. 
It was foolish, idiotic, ridiculous but it worked. Because without knowing Sirius was getting closer to taking the mark. He no longer grimaced when Regulus arrived home smelling of iron. Or when he got caught with scratches on his arm and blood on his collar. Mother's plan was working and he only felt pity.
It was one thing to pretend, it was another to have to dumb yourself down for a bonafide pauper. If Mother had picked him, there would be no farce. Not like he wanted that. He didn't want anything. 
He was fine with watching from the shadows. His entire presence ignored while you and Sirius pretended you were the only ones in England. It was simply the way things were, he realized with clenched knuckles and a tight smile. 
But did it have to be? 
 __
No, it didn't.
—-
Six months later, Regulus understands why Sirius gets so addicted. A drunk like him, so prone to tasting what was bitter, his tongue rotten with ale. You were an overturn. Something annoyingly new. Regulus had never tasted something so sweet. Poppy pomegranate and sunburst cherries. He swore that he’d get a cavity as he dug his fingers into your hair. 
Twisting you into position, tight, proper, the way you gripped the stem of any fruit. Of anything that you wanted to get a better taste of. You were too stunned to fight back then. The bitter after taste of champagne you were prone to drinking sticky on your tongue. Your glass already shattered on the floor. 
In the next room, your husband argued with portraits. And when it's done, and when you slap him. Regulus received a thought. An awful hypothesis. 
What else could he get away with when enclosed by walls? The rest of the world locked away? 
An awful thought indeed. 
—--
It's only a week later that it happened. Sirius waking up to an empty bed and Regulus miles away on a mission, in the middle of nowhere, in a quaint little cottage.
It was almost too easy. 
You didn’t leave of course. Not at first. 
Because leaving met acknowledging that you were wrong. That there was nothing to gain at keeping his attention. Leaving meant having to look Sirius in the eye and tell him you lied. 
Of course you had questions. Regulus of course didn’t answer. 
You didn't need to know how distraught Sirius had become. A pathetic puppy that moped around the manor destroying everything in sight. Regulus didn’t even need to plant ideas in the brutes head. No, all the seeds were already there. Sown in from years of idiocy and your failed meddling. 
'It was Dumbledore, I just know.’ 
‘That stupid old git is trying to punish me,' he whined to Regulus. 'He took her, I know he did Reggie, you need to help me' 
'Prongs and-" he'd gnaw at his cracked lips. 'they don't believe me, they think I'm mad, they think I'm—Regulus'
Sirius was mad for you. Unnaturally obsessed. A fool with his alcohol taken away. A dog that's lost his chew toy. He didn't know any better. He couldn't have. But Regulus did, Regulus knew you. He understood your games and twist. Poor Sirius. 
If Regulus had to be the bad guy then so be it. He could be the executioner and the judge, he just needed to play his cards right. 
Murder would create a martyr but someone missing? Someone that Sirius could say left him high and dry. It was what you were planning to do anyway. And if Regulus quickened the process that didn't make him anymore of a bad person than the murder and countrywide slaughter ever did.
You were surprisingly clumsy by your lonesome. 
Random scars and cuts littered your body when he wasn’t looking. Ghost of attempts at escape most likely. Which was fine. Regulus could play doctor. Even if it included a bath. A mutual need, probably. The blood on his hands had begun to make his nose burn. 
He watched you flinch, took relevance in the way your eyes settled: tired, bitter. It was the same look worn by others. It reminded him of himself, of mother. Abrasive. Challenging him. 
After all these weeks, you seemed to still be under the impression that Regulus was anything like Sirius. That they shared the same rotten brain cell that Sirius had split amongst his new brothers, his new family. 
He unclenched his fist. Let his anger burn and flick in the atmosphere before with a turn of his head he looked at the hair moisturizer on the counter top. 
"Your hairs going to be tangled tomorrow. You should let me rebraid it," You scuffed at that. 
"Touch me and you die." You said the same thing to Sirius once. He heard it through the walls during your consummation night. Between the sounds of ruffled sheets and curses. And surprisingly, Sirius listened.
Regulus didn't have the same control. He grabbed for a braid, a knife appeared once again at his rib. He sighed. “You’re being stubborn,”
“I will rebraid my own hair,”
“..With what autonomy?”
You rolled your eyes. "Want to find out?”
He snorted, hands gripping your strands. "Sometimes, it astounds me how well you lie."
"Don't you realize that I already know you're guilty?"
You sighed. Tired, as if this was a conversation you two have had a million times before. It was.
You looked away. "I'm not," he yanked your head. "But you are." Then when with a snap of his wand you were dried and dressed. Your body plopped on your bed without care. He rolled his eyes.
"You fed my brother lies and lured him away f when your job was so simple. to bring him back," Get him to take the mark, be the whisper in his ears, that was what Mother told you. All that deceit just so that the family could have a proper Heir. A better head outside of him the runt and Bellatrix the mad woman. 
Regulus pinched the bridge of his nose. “You lured him away and then-” he gripped his fist into the sheets. “-and then you attempted to run with another,” 
“You were going to betray him,” it was funny really. Outside of the curses and the hexes and threats that was the one that got you to pay attention. That indifference melting away with ease.
"You are a liar and you should be happy that I even-":
"Look at me?" You rolled your head to the side. "Cause you look at me alot Black, even when you think I'm not looking back," you said this with shadowed eyes and a laziness to your movements. Like you had all the time in the world to revel in the fact that Regulus watched you back. That he wasn’t as suave as he thought you were. 
Regulus flickered his eyes down to the crotch of your dress. Theres a wet spot there that never fully dried. Regulus shot to his feet.
 "You're angry," 
"Regulus," 
"I get it, truly" he found himself at the edge of your bed. A wand less spell on his lips that warmed the fabric. 
"I've been nothing but terrible to you, completely awful. That's no way to treat a sister-in-law, now is it?" he sat at your side, his hands on your thigh. Fabric brushed against your bare skin. Under his words, you shook. "But if you bring up his name again, I'll-" 
"What?" You sneered, that hatred bleeding back in. "Let me go?" 
"Tell Sirius what I did?" With a blink your eyes began to sheen. "I do not care," 
Then your face twisted. "Not anymore" 
He gripped your face, his own features  suddenly inhumane. "Your boy toy has made you cocky," 
"Do you think I won't do it? Are you prepared to make that gamble?" There was a frenzied tone to his voice as he said this. For a moment he wondered if it was the weather. An effect of being so sick of your behavior. He must've been worse than he thought but you were looking at him with defiance. He wanted to find control but there was a smolder to your eyes, a spark and suddenly Regulus lost all control. You were serious. 
And then you screamed as he gripped your shoulders and shoved you into the mattress. It bounced beneath the weight. "No," he whispered. 
Your slip entangled in his fingers. You were slipping between his fingers. The harsh tear of fabric brought him back to the present as the top of your slip laid torn in his hand. 
You laughed. It too sounded frayed while your fingers trembled. "No?" 
But outside of that you said nothing, just stared at him the way you stared at potion books and Sirius odd muggle gimmicks. Something dangerous, that you were simply waiting to explode and somehow that was worse than screaming. Worse than you cursing at him while his fingers dug into your ripped dress. 
"You do not know him,"
But youre stupid so you only grunted back, "Don't I?," 
He laughed "My own brother? You really think you know him better than I?" 
"No—" 
"No?" 
"I don't know what Sirius was like as a child but I do know that the boy you call your brother is dead" 
You gripped his arms now, like an anchor. "I know that he only exist in your memories, and I mourn your loss"  
"But the man is different and I know him and I know that he would never give into Voldemort—not even for you,"
Don't say his name, rested heavy on his tongue. But he crushed it. In that moment something in him died and something else was born. A substance unknown to good men or even Voldemort. 
 So, he smiled. Soft hands coming up to pick at the soft white gown. The fabric was practically translucent up close. 
"Those are harsh accusations," he plopped on the bed and felt himself jump a bit before his hands relaxed against your knee and then your thigh and then- paused with a look. 
 Your body trembled beneath his fingers. 
"Fratricide, sororicide? You really can't think of anything worse?" He whispered, his words painting a portrait that only you could see.
 Still, he watched your eyes widen and felt your breath stutter. A fine drip of water that didn't come from your hair, slid down your forehead. Before a hummingbirds heart fluttered beneath your skin. And all he could do was stare, his hand pressed firmly against your cunts entrance. 
"I can.." he said, still covered in blood, still burning with the mark, before his fingers slipped between your thighs. Plushy and warm then suddenly damp, drenching his fingers.
 "..I can think of something worse for Sirius to find." 
"He'd only have to look at my hands" 
You jumped back and thrashed but it was worthless, his fingers were already against your cunt.
  The sounds only got louder, your thrashing more manic but the spell he put on your hands and feet kept you plastered to the bed. He grounded into you further, chest against chest before his head nuzzled against your own. 
 'Frankincense and juniper berry' he thought with a whiff. Like the familiar books he read as a child and the aroma of the Black home after night had fallen. Divine and familiar. 
His own little goddess. 
The revelation forced him to kiss your cheek. His own lips pressed firmly against your skin. He could taste the shea butter. Could still smell the fruity body wash as your screams turned into whimpers and then morphed into ugly moans. The sounds of pleasure ripped out of you through clenched teeth and bitten lips. 
He brought his free hand up, clenched your neck. Felt the arteries jump and your jugular twitch. He killed a man like this earlier today. A long and dirty muggle way of murder. 
Still, he took interest in the way the man's eyes slowly turned glossy and the way his hands clenched helplessly at Regulus' clothed arms. As if this would rip him away from Regulus. Force him to not carry out his duty. Beneath him, you did the same. Your soft hands grasping helplessly at his clothes. Pulling him in, pushing him back. Delirious. 
"Tu vas le regretter, Black," 
"You gain nothing-" 
"C'mon you can beg longer than that, give me a tale for Sirius.” He sneered. “Let me tell him that you put up a fight," he bent down. 
"Let me tell him that his wife fought hard for me not to fuck her," you spat on him, he kissed you. 
Then you knee him in the face. He jerked back, blood spurted in his hand. He smeared it against your knee. 
"You palefaced-" you punched him this time, his teeth rattled. the bed met his back. The force ricocheting till the bed frame cracked and your chains went loose and Regulus was back on you like a feral dog. 
You would not leave this place. 
But youre quick, a snap of wind that pushes him to his back, elbow in his throat. Above, him you look like a God. Vengeful.  And ready to destroy the only person who exists just for you. “You can't stop me, “ 
And Regulus is weak. A small pathetic thing just like Bellatrix said he was because his eyes burn. The edges wet with admonishment. The edges of his lips quiver. And suddenly all that anger bleeds away.  He gripped your wrist. Sharps nail dug into your skin with something worse.  
“He doesn't deserve you,” He pierced, throat burning. Above him, your eyes melted. The look indescribable.  
“I know.” 
“You will get bored of him, and I'll still be here waiting, watching,” he pulled you closer, nose to nose. You filled his vision. “Do you like making me your dog?”
You opened your mouth but no–
He persisted, tears fat. “Can't I just have you,”
“Can't you just want me? Is that too much to ask? Is it too much to want?” Regulus wanted so much already. He rarely ever had it in his grasp. The back of his mind filled with ideologies of freedom, and family and lonely nights in nowhere cities where no one would know his name. All of that was too far away though, intangible. But this–
He crawled into your space,  gripped your skin. 
–This was so close.
He shuddered. Lips red and his face damp with anticipation. Below him, you looked ethereal. The edges of your eyes burning soft.  
“Is this really all you want from me? Sex? After everything?” 
No. What Regulus wanted was much darker than that.  More debased and immoral and such an awful sticky thing that he could not even admit it to himself. But for now, if that's what you needed to believe. If only a physical communion was what you thought he wanted of you. Then so be it.  
He opened his mouth, ready to lie. 
Yes.  
It's right on his tongue.  
Yes.  He was not greedy. Yes. He did not want anything more. 
Yes. The oath of one easily satisfied. 
But nothing came out. His voice stolen as you looked up at him. Eyes wide.  All seeing. Knowing of everything. 
Regulus shook his head.  
“No.” the word bled out in spurts. 
Weak. Bellatrix whispered in his ear.  So fucking weak. Maybe he was no better than Sirius. 
Because you were only going to deny him. You were going to say no. Laughing at his face because that's what people did in the face of fools. Regulus grip loosened. Beneath him you sighed. 
“Merde.”
“You're a piece of work, do you understand–” your lips twisted, eyes narrowed. “This is not my home and yet you keep me here, this is not my country and yet you keep me here, don't you think I've given up enough to simply be in your presence? Can't this be enough?” 
You say that but Regulus sees the molten desire in your eyes. The way you flickered across his face, unable to stay in one spot but lingering all the same as you crowded in him too.
Suddenly the air was dry. Regulus forgetting how to breath as you leaned back. Exposing your neck, dematerializing the knife. 
He gets closer. “Speak plainly.”
You looked away.  Outside the dog was barely bones. Rotten in the earth. You seemed to contemplate something, eyes distant before you're brought back to reality. 
“...I'll allow it.” 
Oh.
‘We’ can have this. Not just him, not just you. This had to be a gift. Before your grip turned tight, your face feral. A certain kind of wildness found only in martyrs and heroes and righteous fools littered your eyes before you smiled, teeth bloody. “Ask any more of me and i'll leave you here,”
“Alone, and then you’ll have to kill me to get me to stay.”  
"I will haunt you till you are dust and bones and-" he kissed you, his own blood smeared with yours before he pressed his forehead against your own. "Yes," he whispered, and it couldn't help but notice that it sounded like a prayer. Like holiness,a type of reverence found only at the foot of gods and priest. 
He said it again. You froze. 
"Just don't go where I can't find you." 
He smiled. 
Then he kissed you again, on your nose this time, then your eyelids. Then sweetly, softly the space between your lips and your nose. He sighed and then he took you. 
He puts his mouth on you. Slipped his head beneath your layers of clothing. 
Unbuckled and unzipped and pulled apart each single one before your bareness glistened in his face. Until he could see the disbelief at his urgency flood your features. The confusion at his delicacy. Regulus understood.
There was something horrific but about taking someone's defenses apart with a sensitivity. With the precision of a monster that did not have to rip you to shreds to make you feel fear. And when he got to your core Regulus wasted no time. 
....You tasted like pussy. 
Musky and sweet, and in your skin he smelt the juniper berry and in your lower hairs drenched with the smell of arousal. 
Above him you flinched and you shivered. It reminded him of a siren.
The unseelie ones that would flinch and cry as he electrocuted their water. Taking their oxygen away, fucking up the chemical imbalance, till their nails cracked the glass, 
All while his fingers brushed against your own. Your ring finger still entrapped by a silver snake ring. Regulus was not a good man. He was flawed with impatience, entitlement, narcissism, the list went on. But it was his entitlement that got you in his bunker. It was his impatience that made him act, his familial nature that got you here on your back. Body drained and his head placed timidly on your belly. 
He listened to your heart beat through skin and bones. Through vertebrae and arteries. Because everything was louder there, your blood even sang for him. A frenzied beat that made your skin hot to the touch. 
He collapsed further into you. Nuzzling his nose into the crux of your neck.
An unleashed dog indeed.
.
.
.
.
226 notes · View notes
oftenwantedafton · 3 months
Text
A New Afton - Stepfather Steve Raglan/William Afton x Stepdaughter Reader
Chapter 4
Rating - Explicit
Warnings - sexual content, daddy kink, praise kink
Also available on AO3
taglist @yellowbunnydreams
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William turns the shower on, letting the water warm up for a bit before he steps inside. You follow and he draws your body underneath the hot spray. He feels your eyes tracing the springlock scars on his naked body, a kind of wonder in them. He takes his time lathering you up, smoothing suds all over you, moving more gently when he reaches the place between your thighs that his fingers and his mouth have claimed as his own.
He enjoys the feel of you tucked back against him, the way the curves of your bodies fit together, the way the flatter stretches slot neatly, the perfect balance between the diffences in your heights. He likes drinking the water that pulses on the space between your neck and shoulder. You taste fresh and clean and new.
Back outside the shower and he towels you dry and combs through your hair. Pampering you. Helping you ease into clean pajamas. Your brush your teeth and he watches you in the mirror.
“Want to sleep with me tonight, baby girl?”
You spit your used toothpaste in the sink and cup your hands beneath the faucet, rinsing until there is nothing left but the taste and scent of spearmint when he steals another kiss.
“Yes, Daddy.”
Afton folds his arms across his chest. “And I mean actually sleep. No more missing school. Okay?”
“Yes, Daddy.” So obedient. So easy to manipulate.
You really are an angel.
***
Steve strips the bed. You think it’s more for your sake than anything else. So you don’t think so much about who else normally shares this bed with him.
Now the lights are off and there is crisp cotton beneath you. Untainted. Only your bodies have christened this new space. The dryer sheet’s soft lavender fragrance reawakens when you move. You’re restless. You can’t get settled.
“Baby girl.” Your stepdad’s arm wraps around you and drags you against him. “Relax. I’ve got you.”
���I’m sorry. I’m trying, honestly. Will you talk to me for a little bit?”
“About what?” His fingers comb through your damp tresses and it soothes you instantly.
“How you got your scars.”
“You’re fascinated by them, aren’t you?” he murmurs beside your ear.
“Yes.” You know now exactly how far they extend after seeing Steve’s naked body in the shower. They cover his entire body from neck to ankles. You can’t make any sense of the patterns. You can’t fathom what would ever mark someone that way.
“It happened at the restaurant. Some of the animatronics are designed so a person can operate them from the inside. That means the internal components need to be separate from the individual. There are a lot of things inside an animatronic; a lot of mechanical and electronic components. The devices that keep them safe are called springlocks. As with anything, there are risks. There was a malfunction. The scars are the result of that failure.”
“Did it hurt? That’s a dumb question. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Yes, it hurt.”
“I’m sorry.” You don’t know what else to say.
“Sweet girl, it’s not your fault.”
You don’t like the thought of your stepfather being hurt. You stroke the hand that’s hugging you and realize he’s not wearing his wedding band.
“You’re not wearing your ring.”
“I don’t wear jewelry in the shower. Forgot to put it back on.”
You try to think if he’s had it on at all the last couple of days since your mother left for her trip. His hands all over you and no, there had never been a flash of gold even once.
“You haven’t been wearing it at all,” you persist.
“Would you rather I did?”
“No.”
The silence lengthens. “Do you like being with me?”
“Yes,” you answer truthfully. “I like being with you. I like you.”
A soft satisfied huff of breath. “Okay, Princess. I want you to close your eyes and go to sleep, okay?”
“Yes, Daddy.” You feel his lips press into your hair and you close your eyes.
***
You awaken to find your arm draped across Steve’s chest, your head tucked into his shoulder.
The room is still dark. Daybreak hasn’t yet arrived.
You listen to the rhythm of his breathing. A slow in and out. Still asleep.
You slowly move your arm, pushing the top sheet and comforter down as you go. Let your hand rest along his sternum. Fingers drifting down. Now on his abdomen. Easing a little lower. Elastic of the waistband beneath you. Your breath is held, listening to his. It’s changed. He’s awake. You gather your courage and stroke down and feel his cock stirring in response, pressing against the fabric, against your questing digits.
“Princess.”
You freeze.
“What are you doing to me?” He doesn’t sound upset. He’s just…you don’t know. Observing. Curious.
“I want to make you feel good.”
“Hmmm,” he murmurs drowsily. “You want to wrap those little hands around Daddy’s big cock?”
Immediate throbbing in your pussy. “Yes…”
“Well take it out then, baby girl.”
You prop yourself up and fumble with the fly of his pants and his boxer briefs, trying to extricate him. His cock slaps against your palm, the flesh searing hot. You wrap your left hand around it and stroke up and down uncertainly. There’s just so much of it. Thick and long and…it’s intimidating. You don’t know how it’s ever going to fit inside of you.
“Is it…I don’t know what I’m doing,” you admit quietly.
“Spend more time underneath. Roll your fingers over the head. Looser circle towards the bottom then tighter at the top. Here.” His hand covers yours, a shade less heated than the cock in your hand. He’s always so warm. He guides your movements. You feel stiff and awkward and try to force your hand to relax, to become limp and malleable. There’s moisture leaking from the tip and it glides over the ridged space where the curves meet underneath and Steve inhales sharply. “There you go, baby girl. You’re getting it.”
You feel the pulse in your sex. It’s so erotic touching your stepfather like this. You like pleasing him. You wish the room wasn’t quite so dark so you could see his cock better; watch the expressions on his features as you make him feel good.
“You should swap hands and lie back so I can touch you, too.”
His arm pillows your head as you comply, your right hand now on his cock. He shoves a hand inside your pajamas and panties and slides through the dewy slick between your lips. “So wet already, sweet girl. You like touching Daddy’s cock that much?”
“I love it.” You do. You absolutely love stroking your stepfather’s leaking cock. You love his fingers sliding through your pussy. You love every dirty thing you’ve done with him.
“Love, hmmm? You really love it?” His breath pants hotly against your hair.
“Yes, Daddy.” His fingers rub over your clit and you arch your hips, sending them back towards your entrance. “Inside me, Daddy, please.” It’s still sore and tender there but the ache of desire is so, so much more prevalent.
“You want me to fuck you with my finger?”
“Yes,” you gasp. You’re starting to find it difficult to focus on what your hand is doing, your attention shifting to his instead.
“You’re so tight, baby girl.” Pressure as his middle finger struggles to fit inside your canal. “How am I going to fit this big, fat cock inside there?”
You moan and writhe against him. It feels good today. Better than it had last night. You’re already getting used to it.
“Please, Daddy…”
He shifts, his upper body now angled above yours, still partly cradled beneath your head, his finger pistoning in and out. “You want it? Tell me.”
“Please…I want you to fuck me with your cock.”
“And then what? What if I came inside that sweet cunt of yours? Just filled your belly up. Bred my little girl. Would you like that, baby?”
You both know you’re on the pill. You don’t want to get pregnant and yet…the thought of it. The sound of it spilling from his lips…
“Yes, Daddy. I want your cum inside me.”
His panting mouth hovers near yours. You know you’ve gotten lazy with your strokes but it’s getting more and more difficult to focus when he’s talking such filth to you. Your pussy is soaked. Every time his hand shoves against you, there’s a sloppy, squelching, suctioning noise. Your pelvis grinds against him. You want him deeper; you want more. The familiar knotted feeling inside of you grows. His intruding finger crooks when it enters.
“Daddy…Daddy…Daddy…” Over and over and over. Your hand is sloppy loose over his cock as the knot inside you unwinds, spiraling free. His mouth finds yours, heavy and wet and gasping.
The arm supporting your head slides free as he moves over you, one knee and forearm bracing his weight just above you, the mattress creaking. He takes your hand and brings it back to his cock and you both stroke him together, fast and rough and tight.
He nips at your neck and your jaw and sucks your bottom lip. “You’re so good. So perfect for me.” You lift your head to capture his lips. “You’re going to make me cum all over you.” He moans against your throat and you feel the hot spray of semen splatter across your abdomen and chest.
A little thrill of triumph runs through you. You’ve done it. You’ve made your stepfather blow his load. Why was it so satisfying? You can’t help but grin.
You can see his features now, the room becoming gray as dawn approaches.
He studies you with those dark eyes of desire.
***
William sinks into the living room couch and sighs, loosening the knot of his tie and tugging it free. It had been a day. Exhausting. Amazing how many needy, incompetent people there are out there. Amazing how he has charmed and lied his way through that entire career, earning awards for things like Best Regional Social Worker 1998. If they only knew the truth. If they only knew what kind of counsel he kept after hours.
You appear from the kitchen and climb into his lap and he hums appreciatively. Suddenly things don’t seem quite as bleak. “How was your day, baby girl?”
“It was good. I got an A on my Biology project.” You pull off his glasses and tuck them into his shirt pocket. “How was yours?”
His hands cup your ass cheeks and stroke along your thighs. You’re still wearing your school uniform. “Hmmm…tu parles français, n’est çe pas? Comme ci, comme ça.”
“Oui. Je parle français un petit peu.” You grin at him.
“Très bien, ma petite fille.” He grins back at you.
“I’ve been taking it since junior high. I didn’t know you spoke French.”
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me,” he murmurs, a small secret smile curving his mouth.
“Like what?” Your fingers are laced on the back of his neck. You’re bolder today, he thinks. More confident after making him spill his seed all over you that morning. His cock twitches at the memory.
“What do you want to do tonight?” William smoothly evades your query by asking one of his own. “Besides that,” he says, seeing the hunger in your gaze. Intimacy is inevitable. Your further corruption awaits. But he’s going to edge for a little longer. “We should go out somewhere.”
“What about the restaurant? Is it close by?”
“The restaurant. Now that’s a brilliant idea. It’s on the other side of town. Twenty five minute drive probably. You wanna go?”
You nod.
“Okay. Let’s go to Freddy’s. Just give me a few minutes to shower and get changed.”
You slide off William’s lap with a sigh, and he heads into the bathroom. He hasn’t been back to his pizzeria for several weeks. A visit was long overdue.
Standing under the stream of water he feels some of the tension from the day leave his shoulders and spine. He imagines walking beside his stepdaughter in the darkened ruins of his business, the dust motes dancing on the slants of fading afternoon light that spill in through the windows.
He thinks of the yellow rabbit costume and his cock lurches again. Your legs clenching a stuffed animal between them. The larger version fucking into you, your legs wrapped around the fur and metal as he pounds into you. His fingers stroke over the head of his dick and he hisses in pleasure, the sound lost in the pulsing pressure of the shower water. Yes, you were going to meet the rabbit one day.
He’s suddenly impatient to be back to you, shutting the faucet off and toweling off quickly. He’s just finished tugging on jeans and a navy plaid button front shirt when you push the cracked door open the rest of the way.
“I’m almost ready.” He slides his wristwatch back into place, the stretchy band closing over the joint. A gift from you for Christmas last year. In truth probably picked out and paid for by his wife, but he’s ignoring that fact, just like he’s ignoring the wedding band that sits on a tray on the counter. “We’ll have to pick something up to eat on the way since there’s nothing in the kitchen at Freddy’s. Have a picnic maybe. I promise I’ll do better for dinner tomorrow. I’ll go shopping. Or we can go together. Okay?”
“It sounds fun.” You rest your back against the doorframe, looking up at him through your lashes. “Can we have steak?”
“We certainly can.” One hand sits on your waist. Your blouse is untucked.
“And baked potatoes?”
“Mmm-hmm.” He leans and kisses your neck and feels you shiver.
“And a salad.”
“Sure.” Another kiss. “And I’ll pick up some wine, too.”
“Are you going to get me drunk and have your way with me?” You bite your bottom lip.
“I don’t need to get you drunk for that.” He tugs on your ear lobe with his teeth, biting lightly.
“Are you sure you want to go out?”
He laughs softly, the hand at your waist stroking down to your hip. What a little vixen you were becoming, and it was only day three.
You drop to your knees, your hands trailing over William’s body as you descend. You look up and he looks down. You kiss the seam of his fly. His erection hasn’t gone unnoticed. Your breath is hot against him through the denim material. His fingers weave and knot gently in your hair.
The telephone rings.
William’s hand stills and drops. He feels you tense against him before rocking back to sit on your heels.
“It’s probably mom,” you say softly.
“It probably is,” your stepfather agrees.
“You’re not going to answer it?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m busy,” he snaps impatiently.
You rise. The phone eventually goes silent, the mood clearly shifted.
“Do you even like my mom?” Your voice sounds so small in the sudden stillness.
He lifts your chin and stares into your eyes. “I like you. That’s what matters, right?”
You swallow loudly. “Yes, Daddy.”
“That my good girl. Let’s go, Princess.”
133 notes · View notes
cod-dump · 1 year
Note
Oh god, Simon pulled out Soap’s government name one time and it nearly gave Soap a heart attack— the only people that him John nowadays are his mother, and Price. He felt like he was in trouble, like Ghost was mad at him. Simon made a mental note to not do that again.
Soap couldn’t recall the last time Ghost called him by his legal name. It’s always been Soap or Johnny (and babe or baby in private). He doesn’t call him John, no one on base but Price calls him that! It’s Soap, Suds, Sergeant MacTavish by everyone on base.
“John.”
Soap’s heart dropped when he heard his name come out of Ghost’s mouth. He looked at Ghost who wasn’t looking at him, he was leaning over paperwork. Soap didn’t even hear what he was saying because he was so taken aback by what he had called him.
“Babe?”
Just like that, Soap could hear him again.
“Are you mad at me?”
Ghost blinks in confusion, “No? What makes you think that I’m mad at you?”
“You called me John.”
Ghost slowly puts down his pen, “You think I’m mad… because I called you by your name?”
“You never call me that!”
“What— Yes I do— Wait… Huh, I guess I don’t…”
Soap stares at him intently. Ghost clears his throat.
“Love, do you want to go get some food?”
“… Sure…”
Ghost was on thin ice for the rest of the day. Ghost is always quick about learning from his mistakes, so it’s likely he never did that again unless it was called for.
451 notes · View notes
kangmoon27 · 6 months
Text
UNWANTED | JUNGKOOK ONESHOT?
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Pairing: King/brother Jungkook × slave/older sister YN.
Summary: In past life he's your lover but what will happen if at the present time he became your brother. Will you still be able to love him?
Growing up you really hate it when your little brother keeps on annoying you, well likewise tho. He also hates it when you do that to him but one thing for sure is that your bond with each other made your relationship strong.
Jungkook is a sweet, childish, fun yet so protective. He never wanted to see tears coming from your eyes, he hate it. When he saw you crying on your both mother's funeral he promised himself that it will be the last time he will see tears from your eyes.
He took good care of you, even tho you're the older between the two of you, he's always the strongest one while you're the fridge. He love you a lot that you couldn't even imagine.
He's such a sweet brother, a sweet brother that will make sure his older sister is always safe and sound. You love him too, so much. Even tho you aren't as strong as he is, to have courage to protect him, you will still do everything and anything for him. That's how siblings are for right.
But
It all changes, you started growing apart for him after one mistake, just one mistake and everything just thrown.
[
"Cause you we're never mine!!" Screaming at the top of your lungs while crying in full of tears. You love him, you surely do but it couldn't be.
"Look at me, I'm nothing like you!!." Pointing at yourself, you dropped your knees on the dirty ground as you cried you heart out.
"You don't know how much it hurts loving someone from different world. I'm a slave that serves you my prince, not a woman who's supposedly be inlove with you. But I love you" The man step forward. He couldn't just watch his woman crying in pain that he created.
He wanted to hug her, kiss her to stop her from crying, wipe her tears but something is holding him back. As he stepped forward wanting to claim the woman he loves in his embrace he was stopped by himself.
Closing his open palm and turn his head around. Closing his eyes tight while his right hand hardly gripped on his sword placed the right side of his hips.
"You're right, you're a slave that will never reaches the level to become my woman. So you're right. I wasn't yours, never gonna be yours. This confession of your is worthless. You better wake up from your dream slave."
]
Wake up from your dream. You woke up from your dream only to find yourself crying in bed of tears. Your brother walks in and saw you crying while sitting in bed, without waisting a second, he immediately run towards you and asked.
"Noona what happened? Why are you crying again?" As soon as he asked that you turn your head on him while staring directly to his eyes with teary eyes and with that'        you saw him. You saw him in him, you saw your man in him.
While Jungkook was about to wipe your tears, you pushed him making him fell on the ground, as his back meet the floor. You just look at him and immediately walked away leaving him.
Soon the little boy tried in tears. He knows he's the reason why you had an accident but it's never his intention, he could never hurt you. But what happened just happened.
"You pushed him? Girl that so rude!! He's still your brother, come on Yn. That was an accident. You don't think your lovely Jungkook would do something like that to you right!! Mostly him!! He won't even let a mosquito bite you!! Then he would plan to grown you?!." You've been being scolded for almost half an hour not but your attention is not on it. Not even on this universe or should I say in this present time.
"Have you find the history book of the Jardons? Mostly their lasted king?" You look at your friend but she just shook her head.
"You know it's really hard to find it, everyone must forget about it!! Jardon is just a small land, there's no much about it believe me."
"Noo!! There's a lot about there that I need to know!!" You suddenly raised your voice without you knowing.
"Okay okay relax girl, you don't need to shout. Don't worry I'll ask my friend to search for it again."
You open the door and walk in only to find your little brother sleeping on the couch. You examine his face and while looking at him you found yourself crying after feeling a strike of pain straightly hit your heart.
You felt sorry for him. You feel like you betrayed him or something and you regret it. But why? Why are you feeling like this.
The little boy Opened his eyes and saw you standing there with looking at him. Before he could even notice you immediately wipe your tears and started walking away but he's fast enough to grab your hand and turn you around.
"Noona tomorrow is my birthday remember. I'll be turning 18, can be go out tomorrow just the two of us?." Jungkook had a high hope that you would agree cause you always does but his smile immediately dropped when you said.
"For what? So that you can plan to k!ll me again? No I don't want to." Pushing his hand as you walked upstairs. He couldn't believe what you just said. How could you accused him for something you didn't and would never do. You're his older sister and he loves you so much more than anything. He never thought one mistake can broke you two apart.
Honestly you don't know why you hate Jungkook. Maybe because all the memories you keep on recalling is him hurting you from the past. But that's the past now.
It's your past life right? It's not the same like now. He's your brother I'm this present time, your lovely brother but how come you just couldn't help yourself but to hate him.
You're being selfish and you don't know why.
It's the Prince 18th birthday. It's almost time for him to pick a woman to marry. A perfect bride that will be by his side while rulling the whole kingdom.
Staring at himself in the mirror. He knew any seconds from now he will be crown as the king of Jordan and will be needing a woman by him side to be his queen that is why every princesses from different countries were invited but the eyes of the Prince is only settled for someone.
While fixing his layered shirt he saw your reflection through the mirror while wiping the floor. He couldn't take his eyes of you, he could imagine you waring a white pale gown ready to marry him but it would be impossible.
[
You saw a shining black shoe Infront of you and you knew exactly who it was. You bow at him while you landed your head to the floor as a sign of respect to the next king.
Slowly standing from the ground thinking your present is annoying the king after your confess last night, you remain your head on low while waking backwards.
The prince was hurt by it. He only wanted to be close next to his woman but you're the one who's distancing from him. "I didn't order you to stop cleaning lady Yn."
All you could do is to gulp hard. Closing your eyes at the same time forgetting about your dignity you open your mouth but couldn't say a word. No words came out, bitting your lip hard trying to hold your tears. You just bow at him several times before walking to the corner of his room far away from him and started cleaning the floor again.
He you you're avoiding him after what happened last night and he could blame you for it except, he keeps on blaming himself for being coward and not fighting for you. He chooses to be stuck in this castle where he will rule the world without you rather than just being happy with you while having a simple life. It's you against everyone who's life depends on him.
It hurts for him not to have the woman he loves but for the sake of his people he's willing for give up his happiness even tho it means giving you up. Hiding the shiney ring from his pocket while staring at you silently. He closed his eyes and shook his head. His decision is final, he already give up on you.
While brushing the ground you heard the door if the room closes. You stoped and turn to look around only to find yourself empty inside the room but except yourself.
Just as you're about to stand up the bells started ringing same as the trumpets busting. Your knees weakened. It happened, he's the king now, your chance of being with the man that you love decreases. Falling on to your knees as you watch yourself crying for your broken heart.
]
It's Jungkook 18th birthday. You woke up early expecting him to be sleeping but to your surprise he's already gone, you search for your brother all day long but you failed to find him. Even after that day ended he's still no where to be found.
Soon a knock on the main door grab your attention. It's already 1am and you saw your brother walking in after you open the door.
"You've been out all day!! Where were you?!" He just looked at you and get up while trying to walk away from you but you immediately stoped him.
"Jungkook are you even listen?! I'm talking to you don't you dare disrespect me I'm still your sister!!"
You couldn't believe him, you already shouted at him but yet he's just staring at you. Till he pulled you into a tight hug and started crying on your shoulder.
"Are you still mad at me Noona, you knew I wouldn't do such a thing to you like that." You were taken aback but immediately hug him. He's your brother after all. It hurts you seeing him like this all because you believe those stupid dream of yours.
And even if they're true you shouldn't hate Jungkook cause now it's a different time and different purpose. You're his sister and you won't let him down.
[
He's married. The king is married and it's not you who owns him, he's right. He will never be yours.
He loves to make you suffer, suffering you for keeping you close to him. Like so close. He official positioned you to be his personal servant. The one who dressed him, bath him. Almost everything.
But for him, it's not about making you suffer, it's about still keeping you from himself. You might call it suffering but for him it's his happiness that even though he's married and become the king he could still be next to his beloved woman.
You're standing I front of him, fixing his layered shirt while all he did was to stare at you. He has already memorized every inch of you. Mostly the movement of your lips, you bite your lips when you're nervous, you lic your lips when you're scared, you dig bite your tongue when when you're in pain to stop yourself from crying. He already knew all about you.
Or maybe not all. Not your life outside his kingdom.
He caresses your cheek while smiling at you, you got startled and immediately pushed his hand away, he found it cute when you do that "you look so beautiful lady Yn".
Your eyes meet his and found him smiling so beautiful at you but with mo time you turn your head down at him and bow. "You're all dressed, I'll take my leave now your highness."
You repeatedly bow at him while Jungkook just chuckles. He loves seeing you nervous around him knowing that he still has effect on you but his beautiful smiled dropped when he saw what's on your finger.
"A ring? Where did you got that ring?" He stepped forward trying to look at it but you immediately hide it and he didn't like what you did. Poking his inner cheek and walked towards you. Pulling your hand and it's confirmed it's a ring.
"A engagement ring?" The king asked.
Silence.
"To whom?"
Silence.
"I SAID TO WHOM?!".
He saw you biting your lips while digging your nails through your skin. You're nervous. You keep your head low, but he wanted to see you, he wanted you to tell him that it's just a misunderstanding and you will not be marrying someone else.
He gripped on your chin making you face him. "It's not real right? Tell me it's not a engagement ring, it's just a mistake right? A misunderstanding right?."
You shook your head while crying, you tried pushing his hand but his gripped tighten more.
"Why are you shaking your head? Why are you not answering?! Why are you not saying no?!!".
"I-Im getting married your high."
With your low voice you manage to tell him the truth. He was stunned, he couldn't move his feet, his eyes just locked on you. This is his greatest fear, Losing you.
He thought by keeping you close to him would make your love for him grow farther but he was wrong, it only keeps you away from him.
"You're not." He said.
You gulp as you bow at him.
"I'll be leaving the castle next week before my wedding your highness."
You look at him one more time before taking you leave.
As soon as the door closed the king lost his temper and throw everything on the ground. He thought he could keep you for himself for life time now that he's the king but he's wrong.
Was his marriage the problem? Is that's why you left him for someone else?."
You're been gone for 2 days now and the king feels like losing his mind if he didn't take a glance on you even just a day. He's hiding behind the trees while watching the heart breaking scene Infront of him.
You laughing while having fun with a man. You look so happy having this kind of life. The man chase you from behind and once he capture you he started tickling you.
This is exactly how he imagine a life with you but seems like it's too late. He didn't choose you, he chooses his people not you and he had to accept it, but he just couldn't.
With a heavy heart Jungkook turn his head and left. His heart couldn't take it anymore it's too much pain.
You heard about the divorce of the king and the queen and at the same time the monarch's problem issues. It's starting to dropped. People doesn't want Jungkook to be their king anymore after the issues about divorce.
You came back to the castle to see what's happening and when you saw it, it's already burning in fire. Turned out the country that the queen's belong started a war between the Jardons after their divorced. They burned the castle while the whole land is under attached.
You reach inside trying to find him till you finally saw him. He's in your cabin, your old cabin that you used to stay when your still working here.
He's not not even moving a bit, he just sit there holding your dress. Your heart broke into pieces. You know it's already him even if you will try looking for someone new.
"Your highness, the kingdom is burning, we must leave."
He slowly turned his head on you. A flash of smile appears between his lips. "My greatest mistake is not divorcing her and destroying my kingdom but it is choosing my people who's life depends on me and letting someone else steal my woman. Losing you is my greatest regret."
He hugged your dress while he begging to sob.
"I-it's supposed to me my wedding day your highness" He look up to you while you broke in tears and run to him, hugging him tight while he did the same.
The temperature of the room started getting hotter than earlier but you seems to not care. Jungkook took your hand and put on the ring he hides for years.
"If both of us die here then let's make a promise to be us again in our next life." You said while kissing his forehead.
As the kingdom continually burn down a big pale of wood landed on both of you.
Jungkook is looking at your painted poster that he did it himself when he's still part of monarchy. A beautiful smile appeared on his lips.
"After 3 years my love I can finally be with you, wait for me and I'll be there right next to you."
As the former king of Jardon Jeon Jungkook survived when the kingdom was set on fire the new king ex'cuted him, but for Jungkook it's not a punishment but a gift cause finally get can be with her while completing his promise for her that he will not take his own life but waited for it's his own time.
]
You woke up and open your eyes. You saw tears coming out from his eyes while he's asleep. You wipe his tears making him open his eyes slowly.
"What happened kook? Are you okay? Did you had a dream?" You asked your brother who's laying next to you.
He immediately hugged you " Lady Yn d'ed 3 years after King Jungkook and you are three years older than me Noona do you think we're their reincarnation?."
His question made you stoped. He dreamed about them too. But you don't know how what to do. Should you say yes or no? You're not even sure.
Did their sorry ended like that or there's more? More to discover about them?.
"That's just a bad dream, it's not true, it's not true Jungkook."
But that's not where it ends...
King Jungkook made a promise before his d'ath that he won't stop until it's finally you and him. It's not just one time but a several more past life of different time that you still haven't succeed to finally be together. Will that be on this current time? But how? He's your brother.
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autisticlancemcclain · 6 months
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— — —
When the morning sun bleeds into the room, it wakes Keith up alone.
It’s a strange way to wake up; being exceptionally aware that you are alone. He has woken up alone for most of his life. It is not something he usually notices. But this morning, in a strange bed that he has slept in for who knows how long, in a room he has recovered in for who knows how long, on a planet he had only intended to visit, he wakes up and has the distinct thought: No one is sleeping next to me.
He gets up carefully, gentle with the comforter, gentler with his injured leg. He’s intimately aware of how much he would appreciate a wash, or a change of clothes. His own clothes, even, although he realises with a lump in his throat how impossible that truly is. 
He limps slowly out of the room, wincing at the loud creak of the floorboards. The walk down the hallways is less daunting with the late morning light, although this time there’s no one busy in the kitchen. Confused, Keith backtracks some, peeking into the other rooms that branch off the hall in search of the man he’d slept with last night.
Well. Slept next to. Whatever.
The first room is small, a pantry of some kind. The many shelves are lined with jars of preserves, brightly coloured labels stuck crookedly on the glass. A variety of dried plants and meats hang from the ceiling, along with some other things that Keith doesn’t recognise. The next door is what must be the guest room that was the source of last night’s argument; the bed is under the window instead of perpendicular to it, and admittedly is too small to fit Keith comfortably. It’s much sparser than the other bedroom, too, although there are still shelves lining the wall. 
Keith checks a couple other rooms, none of which seem to have a specific purpose, until finally he opens the door to what appears to be a bathroom. With a shower. 
He’s inside and locking the door behind him before he can think otherwise. His hand lingers on the doorknob for a moment, shifting from foot to foot with indecision. This isn’t…his house. Every step in the unfamiliar environment reminds him of that. But he also needs a shower so quiznacking badly. His fur is matted. He swears he can feel his skin crawling, even though he knows he’s been cared for. He needs to wash between his ears.
He makes a decision, and steps away from the door. 
The bathroom is well-stocked. In a cabinet next to the door Keith finds several fluffy towels, of which he takes two – they’re human-sized. He finds several dozen bottles of various soaps, none of which he recognises, so he just chooses the one he thinks smells the nicest. He spends more time than he is willing to admit trying to figure out the knobs to get the water running (why don’t Earthlings have buttons for everything like normal people) but standing under that steaming spray is – relieving, to say the least. He spends a decent chunk of time just standing under the spray, letting the high pressure undo some of the knots in his back. He tries to stay conscientious of the water, though, figuring it’ll shut itself off soon, so he pulls himself out of the spray and starts to lather himself up.
It takes a long-ass time to untangle his hair. Long enough that the water gets cold – which is not something Keith expected in the slightest and made him actually genuinely scream – and Keith shuts it off to work the soap through the snorzlak’s nest that lies on top of his head, as his mother would say. Once he’s rinsed all the suds out of his hair and gotten used to the water, he lets his injured and newly undressed leg soak under the spray for a while, cleaning off the blood and scabs and other disgusting shit Keith’s can’t look at without wanting to throw up. The cool water does feel nice on it, though, clueing him into just how painful it really has been.
By the time he’s finally clean and stepping out of the shower, he’s so loose and relieved that he’s practically goo. The towels are soft and fluffy and blissfully abrasive as he scrubs it through his hair and over his skin, tying two together at his hips once’s he’s no longer dripping. He pokes around the bathroom in search for a fangbrush, finding something similar behind the mirror next to a tube of something called ‘toothpaste’. Keith shrugs and puts a dollop of the goopy stuff on his finger, rubbing it all over his teeth and following it with the fangbrush.
He gags.
“Dat thit ith dithguthting,” he spits, hunching over the sink and using the fangbrush desperately on his tongue. The horrible paste only lathers, spilling out onto his lips where it burns, so he twists the faucet on full blast and sticks his mouth under it.
“Why ith it burning more,” he despairs, spitting the water out and scraping the nasty stuff out with his fingers. His mouth still smarts and stings. He’s never has anything like that in his life – it’s spicy, but cold? Somehow? It’s fucking disgusting. Why is that the flavour of a – of a tooth cleaner, stars above. 
Mouth as normal as he is going to get it, he dries off his face and steps away, setting the fangbrush neatly on the counter and shoving the hellish ‘toothpaste’ back where he found it. He frowns at his pile of discarded clothes, debating putting them back on, but ultimately can’t make himself. They’re half-ripped and kind of gross. He’s newly cleaned. Walking around in a towel isn’t ideal, but maybe there’s spare clothing in the bedroom? He’ll figure it out. 
Making note to come back and clean up his clothes for later, he unlocks the bathroom door and steps into the hallway, shivering at the sudden blast of cooler air that makes his fur stick up more than it already does. He pads down the hall back to the bedroom, pushing open the slightly open door and –
“Oh, Jesus.” 
Eggs splat on the ground as a basket tumbles out of startled hands. The human makes a scrambled, aborted move to catch it, but it’s far too late, and yolk stains the wooden panelling and what feels like half the room in a stark mirror to last night. His face is bright, supernova red, and he looks everywhere but at Keith.
Keith swallows. “Um. Hello.”
“Hello,” the man responds, but his voice dips and cracks more times than Keith would think possible in one word. He says nothing else, still looking resolutely away.
“I took a shower.”
“I can. See that.” Then, under his breath: “Believe me.”
“I hope that was okay,” Keith says nervously. If that’s the problem, then things are going to get awkward. Is it – rude, in Earth culture? Keith’s not sure. His father had told him more things than he could ever remember, but he wasn’t a great source on etiquette. 
“No, it’s fine. I just.” The human clears his throat. “Your clothes weren’t in the best shape, huh?”
Keith inclines his head. “Not really.”
The man looks up at him, finally. He meets Keith’s eyes for a brief second and then his gaze drops to his chest, where it stays. Keith frowns. He’s been informed that he tends to – glare at people, when he doesn’t mean to. He makes an effort to soften his face, although he’s not sure it does much. 
“Do you have – pants, or something? I don’t know that they’ll fit, but I can –”
“Oh, fuck, yeah, hold on.” Some of the strangeness of the human’s expression thankfully seems to fade as he rushes over to a folded set of clothes on a chair, holding them out to Keith. Keith takes them gratefully.
“I didn’t – know your size, obviously. And I didn’t want to leave you here alone. So. This is technically a toga. That’s my bad. It should cover, though? Hopefully. It worked for the Greeks.” He laughs nervously. “You don’t know who the Greeks are. Um.”
“I know who the Greeks are,” Keith says, smiling. The human meets his eyes and then quickly looks back away, redness making his cheeks glow again. “My father used to tell me all kinds of stories from Ancient Greece. I liked hearing about Artemis most.”
The human looks Keith up and down, gobsmacked. “Your…dad.”
“Yes.’
“And your dad was a…frequent visitor of Earth?”
“Oh, not really,” Keith dismisses, unfolding the soft material and holding it up to his chest, trying to find somewhere to put his head. “He never bothered going back once he was wormholed home. To Daizabaal, I mean. But he told me lots of stories growing up to make sure I was familiar with my heritage.” 
“You’re human?”
“Half, yes.” He finally finds the hole and tugs it over his head, smiling triumpahntly. He drapes the fabric over his shoulders and cicnhes it at the waist, letting the towel drop. It’s a tad bit shorter than he would like, but it’s better than before, so he shrugs at lets it be.
“That’s – you’re fucking – I didn’t know – okay.” The human holds up a hand. “Okay, time out. There is egg on the floor. I keep dropping shit. You have – really nice legs, holy shit, that is not the focus. I’m gonna.” He points to the door. “I’m gonna go take five minutes to calm my shit. Then I’m gonna come back here and clean up these eggs before they cement themselves to the floor. Then I have – questions, okay. Lots of them.”
“I don’t know what cement is,” Keith admits. “But, um. Sounds like a plan. I’m gonna look around, if that’s okay…?”
“Knock yourself out,” the human says, sighing, then leaves without a word.
Keith blinks. Then he smiles, a little sad around the edges. He hasn’t heard that idiom in many years. As out of place as he feels right now, pieces of home – pieces of his father – keep popping up everywhere. It’s a nice reminder for why he came, even though it feels like everything has changed in a small amount of time. 
Conscious of the timeline the human gave him, Keith searches the room quickly in hopes to find his pack, and sees it hung on a row of hooks on the back of the door, burn holes carefully patched with neat stitches. He lifts the bag gently, swallowing back the lump in his throat at the familiar rough texture of the fabric, and heads back out towards the kitchen and living room area he saw last night. He sits gingerly down at the corner of the couch and unties the top of the bag, pulling out each piece and laying it on the low-laying table in the middle of the room. 
The pieces of his comm are the first to come out. There’s no spiderweb cracking of the screen, no chunks missing, just a clean crack down the middle – Keith has no idea how that one happened. A laser shot of some kind, maybe, although he doesn’t remember hearing any fired as he was shot out of the sky. Next is his field journal, a little singed around the edges but mostly unscathed, then the shrinkpacks of supplies – food, water pouches, a bedroll, some clothes. He’ll have to regenerate them later, see if they’re still useful. Hopefully.
Finally, cradled at the bottom of his back, are his photos – he lets out a huge sigh of relief. They have, miraculously, seemed to have taken no damage from the crash. In fact they’re more pristine than Keith himself. He brushes his finger over the oldest one, of his mother and father right after Keith was born, holding him. The shape of his mother’s hair and his father’s smile have been smudged over the years, from years and years of his – often dirty, he was a messy child – touch, but it is familiar and grounding and reliving to have with him. 
“So,” says the human, startling him as he sits heavily on the couch, “The world is a weird goddamn place.”
He looks weary. The bags under his eyes are marginally less heavy than they were last night, maybe, but tiredness still sags at his shoulders, sallows his skin. His blinks are long and heavy, like he’s struggling to keep his eyes open. Despite that, he looks at Keith with brown eyes bright with determination and attention.
“It is.”
“I’m Lance.”
“Keith.”
Lance’s eyebrows raise. 
“Odd name, I know. I can go by Yorak if it’s easier –”
“No, no, Keith is actually quite –” He pauses, eyebrows raising even farther. His mouth gets pinched with poorly concealed amusement. “Yorak?”
Keith sighs. “It was the name my mother intended to give me. My father was insistent on Keith, though. It’s okay. Most people just call me Yorak, anyway. Keith is a bit of a mouthful.”
Lance loses his battle, head tucked to muffle his giggles. 
“No, Keith is fine. It’s your name, after all. It’s just – I think I know nineteen different Keiths. I wasn’t expecting such a common name for someone so –” he looks up, smile suddenly shy – “extraordinary.”
That…makes a lot of sense, actually. Somehow Keith had never considered that his name might be common on Earth. He figured his dad just made it up. Seemed like something he would do.
“...Oh.”
“I can call you Yorak, if you like,” Lance offers. His mouth twitches again. “I promise I can do it without laughing. As soon as I stop hearing 80s anime villains in my head every time I hear it, we’ll be set.”
Keith has no idea what any of that means. But he waves a hand anyway, dismissive. “Keith is fine.”
Lance sticks out a hand. Keith stares at it. 
“In some cultures on Earth, humans greet each other by shaking hands,” Lance explains.
Keith tilts his head. “But we’ve already met.”
“Officially, I mean.”
“Oh.” Keith hesitantly reaches out and wraps his hand around Lance’s. His hand is soft, and his fingers are cold. “Like this?”
Lance smiles, softly this time, lifting and dropping their joined hands in an intentional movement. 
“Welcome to Earth, Keith.”
———
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carolmunson · 10 months
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love language six
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love language set list another sunday another sun-slay -- ft. dad!eddie and flashback child!eddie love language blurbies are back in action -- again, these are just vingettes into a relationship with eddie no chronological timeline, no story -- just mini moments. this is longer than my other love language blurbs. reader discretion is advised: eighteen plus content. this blurb explores the concept of eddie being a child of abuse that sides with the abuser for his own safety and struggles with that as an adult. some content in this work may be uncomfortable to read, and if dv or abuse is triggering for you, i would not recommend reading it -- this work features rough language, references to abuse, abusive language, descriptions of abuse, and attempted domestic violence. the ending is not sad, i promise.
1971, Forest Hills Trailer Park sherri munson squats down in a shift dress with flowers that match the ones growing in the patch outside of the kiddie park. her sandals crease. the skin by her eyes has too. up all the time, just waiting. waiting for her boy to cry. waiting for her husband to come home. waiting for the cops to show up. she was gonna be a dancer one day. now she stays up and waits. now she just fights with her son about when it’s time to leave the park.
'well i don't have to listen to you anyway!' he whines, ripping his hand away from her with all his five year old body could muster. 'yes you do, eddie honey, i'm your mom,' she tries to laugh it off, but it comes out half-hearted. the other mothers at the park look at her, their eyes burn as hard as her husband hits.
'no you're not!' he yells, stomping while she takes his hand again. 'eddie, yes i am, i'm your mother, let's go,' she urges. he rips his hand away again and raises it the way her husband does when he's warning her.
'you're -- you're what daddy says you are, mommy,' he yells, tearing up in anger, not sure where to put it. she tries to reach for him but he brings his hand down to strike, only cutting through the air.
'baby, we just have to go home from the park, we can come back tomorrow,' she pleads.
'daddy's right, what he said to you this mornin’ -- you’re – you're a fuckin' idiot.' he sounds like like him, just smaller. she knows he doesn't know what he's saying, what that means. but it hurts the same way it hurt at breakfast when she spilled some coffee on the counter. maybe worse. she can't find it in herself to yell at him.
 'that was a very mean thing to say to mommy, ed,' she mutters, the balloon in her chest swelling and swelling, 'say you're sorry.'
'why should i? daddy never has to say sorry,' he shouts while she catches him by the hand again. the other mom's sizzling stares soften, perfectly plucked brows raising. she can almost hear their necks turn to give each other knowing glances.
 'that's just how your daddy is, ed,' she sighs, watching him pout at her with big glassy brown eyes, 'let's go home, baby. i'll make you some chocolate milk with your lunch.' 
that perks him up and he smiles, hand clasping in hers while the others watch them leave like a bad car wreck. she tries not to hear them whisper, she tries not to hear their words travel through the wind and blow through her hair, through her chest. it's not anything she hasn't heard before.
she’s doing dishes when ed's daddy and wayne come home from lake doing some fishing. wayne moved in next door after the first time alan put her in the hospital. eddie was too young to remember that part, old enough to remember that mrs. marsden let him have so many popsicles when he stayed with her that his tongue was blue for two days. 
she focuses on the rush of the water and the ‘scratch, scratch, scratch’ of the sponge on a pan that never feels clean. she swallows while her husband's keys jingle in the door. her eyes watch the suds slide off the pan in a cloud, scrubbing, scrubbing, scrubbing  -- maybe if she just stares down at the sink she’ll go right down the drain. then she won’t have to –
 "hi honey," she says down to the counter next to the sink. eddie sits at the kitchenette table, nursing his glass of chocolate milk.“hi daddy,” he says quietly, big brown eyes follow his father’s every move – half scared, half enamored. big man. big angry man. never hits him, just hits mommy. so he must be good if that’s what happens. he must be so good.  
"hm," he grunts, door slamming behind him. it doesn’t take long when he’s in one of his moods. he stalks down past the living room and into the bedroom to change out of his sticky clothes – summer heat making him slide like a snake back out to the kitchen. “house is a fuckin’ mess sherri,” he says. big man. big angry man. boa constrictor tight on her throat while she swallows. why can’t the drain just swallow her the same way? 
scratch, scratch, scratch. scrub, scrub, scrub. 
“you hear me sher? i said the house is a fuckin’ mess,” he bellows from the side of her. eddie covers his ears. big man, big angry man. big voice stained with fifteen years of cigarette smoke.
“yeah, i heard you al,” she says to the suds as they float down the drain. her heart aches. balloon in her chest pops. 
“oh, you’re bein’ smart with me?” he asks, big angry hand reaching out to clutch her by the back of the neck. pulled out of the drain and into the wall, “you bein’ smart?” 
she braces as her side hits the wall, she can smell the beer on him like white on rice. she wants to scream at wayne for letting him come into the trailer this drunk.  “m’not being smart with you al,” she grits out. “yeah you ain’t smart, are you?” he taunts, hovering over her. big shoulders, big arms, big everything – big man. big strong man, “you know what you are?” she shakes her head no, eyes shutting tight – she can just float down the drain. “y’already forgot huh? damn sherri – you fuckin’ stupid? i told ya this morning,” he barks a laugh that sends heat down the back of her throat, her nose warms, the threat of tears warns her the way he does – always just on the line. “you’re a fuckin’ idiot,” he bites, “you lazy fuckin’ bitch.” “you gotta stop sayin’ that shit in front of ed, alan,” she says quietly, hair sticking to her face and neck. sweat and sticky. can’t keep fighting anymore kind of hot. 
“oh how come?” he asks with fake concern, “he believin’ it? he cert’n’ly should.” he turns to eddie, with a flash in his eyes, “you think your mama’s a fuckin’ idiot, boy?” big strong man. big angry man. big boa constrictor with big snakey eyes. kaa’s hypnosis. “i asked you a question,” he seethes, his body close to turning completely. eddie sees the gold ring glint on his fist. “yessir,” he nods quickly, “y-yeah…that’s what mommy is.” “look how scared you got him, al!” she yells from the drain in her chest, “look how scared he is! look what you’re doin’ to him!” but he didn’t ask her to speak. eddie covers his ears again but it doesn’t block out the first three cracks of his daddy’s palm across her face. doesn’t block out the crunch of his knuckles on her cheek. he shuts his eyes like is mama always tells him, runs to the cupboard under the sink to hide. crack, crack, crunch. wail, crack, crunch, cry. cry, cry, yell, crack, yell, crack, crunch, cry, yell. eddie watches through the space in the doors like a movie he’s too young to watch. rated r. rated never. warm yellowed wallpaper and orangey wood staring back at him, his daddy’s fishing boots stomping into frame. a small smatter of blood on the scuffed linoleum tile. rated r, rated never. yell, yell, yell, choke, spit, cough, cough, yell. yell, yell, cry, yelp, cough, whimper, yell, cough. wayne’s voice cuts in the pattern. “i told ya alan, i’d shoot ya the next time i had to come in here.” whoop, whoop. the flashing lights eddie sees every few weeks glitter on the back wall of the kitchen where he can see through the space. glittering while the sun shines. he likes that. “nah, nah, you ain’t gonna run from ‘em this time al,” wayne says. eddie can’t see the scuffle. “she ain’t even fuckin’ concious.” she was gonna be a dancer one day. eddie stays in the cupboard. just for a little, even after his daddy takes a night in the clink. even after wayne says it’s okay to come out. even while his chocolate milk stands on the table untouched. he stays for a minute, while the world around him rumbles.
1997, Forest Hills Trailer Park
and the world sure does rumble sometimes. hazy afternoon had been smooth sailing for the most part -- pick bud up from summer rec camp, grocery run. chasing bud through the aisles while his laugh plays marco polo with yours. it's good to buy your five year old some chocolate when he behaves. it's good to watch him run around again when you get back home, hustling in the backyard in your new trailer with two bedrooms. letting him run through some sprinkler toy you saw at dollar tree a couple weeks ago before the weather got hot. covered in mud, soon enough, covered in clouds. you’re thankful he’s inside before the rain starts. down pour – the sky heavy with thick air and angry beatings to your tin roof. you slip off his shoes before he tracks mud in the house, you rinse off his hands before you get him changed into something more cozy that’ll make bedtime go a little easier. you start dinner after fixing him a snack and he muses about four square and kickball – you silently laugh when he tells you he got picked first for the teams. money’s tighter now. tighter than it was a couple years ago. a little too tight when you switched to part time to pick up bud from kindergarten and camp since wayne’s working day shifts now. wayne’s too old to be watching bud now anyway, bud’s all over the place. the tighter the money, the bigger the fights. but you both knew how to fight. masters of the ring, big booming cracks of lighting for tongues. always in bed dressed in pajamas and apologies. maybe less so now. maybe less apologies, less pajamas. speaking in bodies and sweat – soft rumbling i’m sorry, lemme show you. you don’t think either of you mean it like you used to. he can afford a nicer trailer for his son, but sometimes he doesn't know if he can afford to show him how to treat a woman. you swear it's progress, but he only hears the whir of the tape being rewound over and over again. every clipped word, every raise of his voice, every tense roll of his shoulders. boy turned big man. big big man.
you start the oven, slicing and dicing while he comes in the door – coveralls all covered in rain and motor oil. big boots on the linoleum, faint smell of beer on his breath. just one with the guys after the shop closed – that’s what he says anyway.
“hi honey,” you say, chop-chop-chopping at the green onion on the cutting board, “rain’s rough out there?”
“hm,” he replies, kicking his boots off next to bud’s sneakers. he sighs out of his nose, “s’mud all over the place here.”
“i know, i’m sorry, i forgot about it – i’ll get to it after dinner,” you say, hearing him make big steps over to his son, running a hand over his hair. just wanna avoid another back and forth – let him sleep off all that frustration – ease out the elastic in his shoulders that’s waiting to snap.
“you know,” he grumbles lowly, coming over to look at the mail on the counter next to you, “you’ve been gettin’ real forgetful lately.”
“what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask with a smile that can’t believe he’d say that. you put the knife down.
“why’d i get a call from the city today saying the water bill’s past due?” he asks, a darkness creeping into his voice that’s been turning his tongue to sludge, to whipping winds, cruel and unforgiving, “you tryna make me look bad? want people to think i can't pay the fuckin' bills?”
“i – shit i forgot to drop it off yesterday, i’m sorry hun,” you soothe, “i’ll bring it tomorrow, i wasn’t trying to make you look bad.”
“you can’t just forget this shit,” he says, voice rising, “we got –”
“mommy, can i have some more juice?” bud’s little voice leaks into the conversation like a dove floating by.
“yes, baby,” you say, getting the juice out of the fridge to refill his cup at the table.
“we got a kid at home,” ed repeats, "can't just have the water shuttin' off. what's wrong with you? take some responsibility."
“i understand that ed,” you reply, defensive edge sliding up in your voice like a razor, “i’m the one whose with him all day.”
he scoffs, grumbling, “yeah, you pick him up from camp – mother of the fuckin’ year. can’t even pay the bills on time with all my fuckin’ money.”
“watch your mouth,” your voice stern while you close up the juice. thunder rumbles overhead, the rain coming down in droves. two cracks of lightning who can’t let up.
“you don’t tell me what to do,” he glowers, “you don’t ever tell me what to do. i’m the man of this house, you hear me?”
“man of the house? you hear how you sound?” you ask, leaning forward on the table, “why don’t you go back to the garage and figure this attitude out, ed?”
“don’t run your mouth to me,” he growls, “don’t get fuckin’ smart with me.” 
“watch. your. mouth.” you warn again. bud flinches when the thunder rumbles, he hates storms like this. drinks his juice anyway. “oh, so you are gettin’ smart with me?” eddie grimaces, bearing his teeth, nostrils flaring. he vibrates with the thunder outside. "well let me tell you something then, huh?!" he grits out, rounding the table with an outstretched hand to grab you, wrapping like a vine on your wrist. like a snake. you flinch when you see how fast he moves, when he reaches for you -- cracking like lightening, like a whip, cracking like your marriage this year. "wait, wait, i'm sorry!" your voice sounds breathy, worn down -- terrified. it doesn't sound like you at all. “god, you’re such a fuckin’ id–” your son drops his fork on the ground, clattering eddie back to clarity. your son's eyes match your husband's, they meet each other. your son just stares -- frozen on the spot. you stare too. you look at his hand around your wrist, the flex in his forearm, veins lifted and pulsing. big man. big strong man. big strong angry man. just like his daddy. the wind howls outside, huffs of breath out of your noses fill the room quietly.
"daddy?" 
eddie straightens, looking at his hand tight on your wrist before letting it drop to his side. he swallows. looking at the both of you like he was mid crime scene. eddie blinks. looks at his son at the kitchen chair and then the cupboard under the kitchen sink. "i..." he starts, choking on the words, "i'm gonna go for a drive."
he stands for a second while you nod at him, eyes brimming with tears you aren’t sure will fall. rooted to your spot, you hold your breath when he leans in, hands reaching out much more gentle than before. he fills the space between you, still smelling like motor oil, rain, and musk. both of his calloused hands on your cheeks now – he kisses you. 
"m’sorry,” he says, loud enough for your son to hear. he lets go only to turn around and take his son’s face in his hands and give him a kiss too. 
“sorry, buddy,” he says softly, “daddy’ll be back before bedtime, okay?”
in five years, eddie has never missed one night of reading him a bedtime story.   “okay,” your son smiles, earning himself another kiss on the top of his head and a ruffle of his hair before eddie grab his keys. the jingle of them rings in your chest while you watch him leave. your eyes linger on the storm door even while you listen to the car start, even while you hear it drive away. the rain doesn’t let up. you put dinner in a tupperware for him later. — you’re in the bathroom after a shower when he comes home, the door partially open in case bud needs you – cozied up in bed playing with dinosaurs in his room. you listen while eddie makes his way in to see him, padding down the hall in wet feet to not get caught. “hi buddy,” he says with a voice that had done nothing but cry, “how was dinner?” “was yummy,” your son says. you know bud’s looking up at him with glowing admiration. his daddy. he was his daddy’s boy. the bed creaks when eddie sits down. “i’m glad, kiddo,” he says, “i wanted to say sorry for how mean i was earlier. i was being really mean and that wasn’t nice.” “you were really mean to mommy,” buddy mumbles, “you made her cry.” you hear ed’s voice crack, “i know bud, i know i made mommy cry, and that’s not okay.” “and i’m not gonna yell at mommy anymore, and i’m sorry.” “mommy’s the best,” bud says, “but it’s okay to be angry sometimes, that’s what they say at camp. just count to three!” “daddy’s angry is a little different, bud,” he tries to explain, a little laugh coming through, “but i’ll try it next time, i’ll count to three.” “and take deep breaths,” bud explains. “and i’ll take deep breaths,” eddie says through sniffles, you can hear the soft smile in his voice. “and bud, i think we should make a big promise to each other, would that be okay?” he asks your son. big shiny baby brown eyes. eyes that get kissed by the moon. “mhm.” “let’s promise that we won’t ever yell at mommy, or call her any names, because that’s not nice,” eddie says softly, “that was really mean of daddy and mommy doesn’t deserve that. and i don’t want you to think that’s okay.” “okay, i promise,” bud’s voice leaks like a dove through the door. you hear a kiss pressed to his forehead while eddie stands up to grab the beat up copy of the hobbit next to bud’s bed. you’re in your pajamas in the bedroom by the time ed’s done putting your son to bed. he somes in quietly, looking you over post shower – beautiful bride, beautiful wife, so pretty like this. so pretty for him – big man. big strong man. big sorry man. “i owe you an apology,” he says softly. “yeah,” you say, cold cream soothing your hot skin like ice while you slather it on. eyes avoid him. 
“m’so sorry, baby,” his face cracks like all the plates his daddy shattered, that you’ve shattered too, “that’s…that’s not me – i’d never – i never thought i’d–” "i know you wouldn't," you say quietly, knowingly. your eyes travel – how many slats are in the wood paneling of this room? "cause if you did --" you finally find it in you to look at him. "if you did, if you ever raised a hand to me or bud  –”   “i would never,” he urges, “i’d never–” “if you did,” you repeat, eye piercing him, “i would get in that car with your son and you would never see us again, do you understand me?” he nods, face blanching, tinged green at the thought. he could’ve lost you both. he could still lose you both. “bless her soul ed, but i’m not your momma,” you remind him, “m’not gonna stick around for a man who thinks i’m a punching bag.” he nods again, quiet, tongue thick when he talks. “i’m so sorry, baby i’ll – i’m gonna do better,” he sounds like he means it, “i’ve just..things are so hard right now. i’m trying.” “try a little harder,” you say softly. “i will,” he says, wiping his eyes while they brim with tears as wet at outside. “i love you,” you start, “but i think you should go stay at wayne’s tonight.” his lower lip quivers, “o-okay. i – um – i love you, t-too.” he packs some clothes for the night and tomorrow even though wayne’s just three trailers down. his heart sinks when he realizes he’ll have to explain. just like his daddy. big strong man. snake eyes. snake eyes gone soft. big sorry man. big sorry eyes. kissed by the moon. kissed by you. “i’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow, okay?” you say gently after his full warm lips break from yours, “just think you need some time alone tonight.” he nods against you, eyes closed. lips brush again. he leaves and you listen to the storm door close with a rattle. the world rumbles. so does he. but he’s gonna be better. 
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