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#say how does it feel to be dads at such a young age
ghoulphile · 18 hours
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janey's dad | c.h./the ghoul | teaser
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➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 465 for the teaser, overall wordcount tbd ➥ overall warning(s) | 🔞 smut; age gap (i hc reader to be late 20s but i tried to leave it vague enough), cowgirl position, biting, hair pulling, choking, squirting, teasing, pining, lipstick kink, breast/nipple play, masturbation (m), porn w/ feelings, porn w/ plot, mild angst w/ happy ending, coop's pov to start - rest of the fic will be in reader's, divorced!coop, babysitter!reader, pre-war/bomb ➥ summary | "We really s-shouldn't - oh fuck - be doing this." ➥ notes | here's a teaser for the fic i took a poll on, some people wanted more info 😊 coop is a big dick dilf fite me. feedback is always appreciated ❤️ lmk if you want to be tagged feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | other ghoul fics
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Divorce is hard, but being a divorcé is downright hellish.
Ugliest thing in the world, if Cooper Howard has any say.
It's not like being a Marine with a gun in hand, being told where to point and shoot, or an actor reading off a script. There's no guidebook, no crash course. These people aren't nameless threats coasts away or co-workers following a cue.
In fact, his 'enemies' aren't enemies at all.
They have names: Barb, so smart it hurts, and sweet little Janey, his very own North star. Sometimes looking at them rips open a hole in his chest that'll never close, edges jagged and sore. The phantoms of family, of happier times, found in the glint of a smile or a peal of laughter.
See, war's something he understands. Something he's good at.
But these domestic battlefields where he's gotta look his ex-wife in the face, and struggle to meet his daughter's eye? Barter this weekend and that holiday? To pay for the privilege of his child's presence (he does, he will, she's worth every goddamn cent he's ever made)?
To look down the barrel of a smoking gun only to find the woman he loves staring back; he doesn't, can't, comprehend that. Because once upon a time, he was happy (with her) and life was sweeter than pie.
Now he's nothing but a washed up actor who struggles to land a call back let alone make his monthly alimonies. His marriage has failed, his reputation is in shambles, and his bank account is dryer than the Mojave.
Barb gets the house. He gets the dog.
And caught in the middle of it all is his little girl; the only thing he’s got left worth while. He wants to protect her, provide for her the way she deserves — only he seems to fall short every goddamn time.
The mistakes and missteps keep stacking up against him; such is his new life in all its raw, unglamorous glory.
Look how far the mighty fall.
Lucky for him — the first bright thing that's come his way in a long, long while — a sweet, young woman moves into the apartment next door. Of course, it isn't long before Janey takes a shine, always so friendly.
Thankfully, you're just as good with her.
It only makes sense you'd watch her when a gig runs late. Rustle up some grub and put her to bed whenever he slinks in through the door, stripped to the bone.
And if he takes himself in hand late at night, stroking his cock to the thought of you down on your knees in that pretty little sundress? Imagines the wide stretch of your lush mouth as you peer up at him from between his thighs when he cums hard?
Well, what you don't know won't hurt you.
After all, he promises to keep his hands to himself.
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TBC
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If Words Were Actions - Lewis Hamilton
Switching Team pt 4 (finale)
Dark fic 18+ - if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS
Warnings/themes: Age gap, smut , coercion, manipulation, corruption/innocence kinks, gaslighting, parental intervention, baby trapping, revenge
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Y/n sighs biting her lip as she looks down at the test. Positive.
If her dad was going to kill her at any point in her life, it's now. But equally, she's happy.
"Y/n?" Lewis calls knocking on the door making her swallows thickly sitting down on the closed toilet seat. "Y/n, will you unlock the door?"
He didn't know she'd bought the test, her habit of hiding things when she doesn't know what reaction she'll get is one that she might always have even with the level of trust she has in Lewis.
But equally. She feels young and the relationship feels so new.
"Y/n?" Lewis calls again sounding more annoyed this time. She never locks the door, so there's reason for him to be confused and possibly frustrated.
She throws the wrappers in the bin and places the test in the bottom of the sink, she'll have to show him. No point in hiding it. Especially the way he gets at her during sex. The man is like an unending pit of hunger for sex, not that she isn't always that eager too. In fact it's gotten to the point where sometimes she misses just feeling full with him.
Y/n unlocks the door taking in a deep breath and smiling at Lewis as he appears as the door swings open, his dark iris' hiding his pupils while he seems to trying and to a quick up and down of her as an explanation as to why she's been locked in there for so long. Then he pulls a face as if he's waiting for her to explain.
"I'm pregnant." Y/n states almost feeling like her voice sounds foreign to her.
"Amazing." Lewis grins unable to hide his excitement. "Baby, that's amazing."
"Is it?-You're happy?" Y/n murmurs very much shocked, she at least expected some surprise about it.
"Baby, this is great news. Are you not happy?" Lewis questions softening slightly, he knows he's forcing her into a position in which she essentially has to be happy because he's happy.
"I...Well yes, I'm happy. I mean it's great." Y/n confirms earning a grin from the older man before he kisses her.
"How far along do you think you are?"
"No more than a month I don't think." Y/n shrugs then gesturing to the sink. "The test says 3-4 weeks, but maybe I should wait a little longer and take another one in a couple weeks."
"Yeah, we can test again in a couple more weeks." Lewis nods with a smile then kissing her a couple times. "But this is good news, our little family."
That earns a smile before she loops her arms around the back over his neck.
-
Lewis did at least wait a couple weeks but after more tests and even a blood test confirm he's knocked her up.
Y/n is still living by his rule that she will not be talking to Toto, though Susie is allowed y/n has informed her step mother that she does not want to speak to Toto.
But Lewis thought this news was too good to go without Toto knowing.
"I think it's important we talk about y/n." Lewis states walking up to the man in the paddock which earns a sigh before Fred walks away since despite the tension between Lewis and Toto, Fred had really tried to be as uninvolved as possible.
"What about y/n? Aside from the fact I've noticed she now owns a very expensive new Ferrari. I assume a very generous gift from you?"
"She wanted one so I guess it to her and in return, she's pregnant." Lewis smirks the victory coursing through his veins as if he just took that 8th title that Toto had promised him time and time again.
Toto's hands are at Lewis' collar in a split second of a moment earning gasps and almost as if perfectly timed both Susie and y/n appear, both of them running towards the men where y/n pushes Toto away from Lewis, standing as a division between the men.
"What are you doing? Are you crazy?" Y/n questions tearful eyes as she places her hand reached back to press on Lewis' stomach, keeping her touch on him.
"Are you pregnant?" Toto hisses making her flinch and Susie steps forward.
"Don't. She is an adult."
"She is being used and now he's got her pregnant with the intentions of purely upsetting me-which has worked so now you can drop the act that this is anything genuine." Toto shouts not caring if the whole paddock knows their business.
"Come on baby, the stress isn't good for you-he isn't good for you." Lewis states moving closer up behind her and placing his own hand over her tummy while he gaze flicks to him before looking back at her dad, nothing but hurt on her face. "We don't even want to talk to him."
"Y/n, listen to his words. He is getting in your head and controlling you."
"We don't even want to waste time talking to him." Lewis states while Toto looks at her almost desperately.
The defining moment.
If she walks away now, Toto knows he did the damage to lose her for good and Lewis perfectly fed into it till he knew that she was like play dough in his hands. Entirely mouldable to however he wants her.
There's a part of him that slips away when y/n steps back away from him. A piece of his soul torn and he realises that Lewis really has won.
"Let's go." Lewis mumbles linking their hands and moving her away.
"Toto-"
"No, he wins. He's got her away from me, she'll never talk to me again, now I'll never get to meet my grandchild and he's doing it all on purpose. Nothing I said was worth this type of revenge." Toto sighs earning a sad look from the woman.
-
Y/n is still too early to really be showing, but she's definitely felt the lethargic element of pregnancy. Though that could also be from the fact that pregnancy has increased her libido and Lewis is certainly not arguing about her seemingly constant need for orgasms.
though he does have a feeling the final nail in the coffin ending her and Toto's communication entirely has left her frustrated by the whole situation.
Y/n whines, quick short breaths as she soaks Lewis' hand, fingers squeezes in her pulsing spasms while her nails dig into the skins of his bicep.
"Couldn't even wait for us to get back to the hotel." Lewis chuckles while raising his fingers to her mouth waiting for her to take them in her mouth, sucking them clean of her own juices. "I should've got you pregnant straight away, it's really made you obedient to how I want you."
Other people might dwell on those words, they might latch onto them, frown at him about them and insist on them having deeper meaning. Especially since on this occasion they do.
But with y/n they go straight over her head.
When y/n looks at Lewis she sees her world now, he tucks her in at night and wakes her up in the mornings. He takes care of her and now they're going to have a family.
By the time they're in the hotel room, y/n is undressing down to her underwear and she's climbed into the bed that has one of the best views a hotel can give.
Capturing a pick of her in her underwear under some red lighting, Lewis captures a picture before sharing it online.
Toto's loud mouth shouting at them meant the pregnancy reveal was less than graceful but confirmation was given in the following days by Lewis. Albeit not the happiest of announcements and he made sure to make jabs at Toto for ruining was should've been a very nice moment for the couple.
"Come keep me warm." Lewis mumbles as her climbs into bed with her and pulls her over to lie with him sliding her panties off down her legs.
Y/n breathes a couple times, swallowing thickly and whining as she slides herself down, still somewhat slick from being fingered in the car ride to the hotel. Her slick as she lies down on his dick.
As usual a snug fit but she smiles settling down on him.
"I love you." Y/n whispers making him look up at her, inked hands rubbing her thighs.
Maybe what motivated him to pursue y/n wasn't love, and maybe it wasn't even really initial attraction. It was purely revenge.
But there is something that's switched.
He's fallen for y/n, and while he knows he can never truly give her the honesty she deserves from him, he'll just have to make up for it by giving her a life that is what she deserves.
And what she deserves is a life without Toto, he'll give her more kids to occupy her time and when they're not keeping her busy, it'll be him that makes sure she never has a spare moment to think about him.
"I love you too." Lewis smiles then rubbing her tummy. "And I love our baby, and we're both going to live a long happy life together. Our family is all that we need."
"Yeah?" Y/n smiles, her body lighting up as she looks at him brightly.
"100%."
"And Ferrari." Y/n adds making him break into a grin.
Buying y/n a Ferrari as a "congratulations, you fell into my trap and now you're pregnant with my baby" gift was an easy way to earn a smile. Even if she's a terror on the roads, he's fairly certain she's never checked the mirrors while taking a turn or a junction once. But she's happy and he can avoid being in the car with her unless it's a life or death situation.
"I think we owe everything to Ferrari." Lewis confirms then rolling them over and standing up. "Now get up against the window, I want to fuck you with a full view."
He might have eased up in terms of how hard and deep he'll go, but he hasn't eased up on how many orgasms and how long he wants to go for. If anything not going as hard has meant he's pulling more orgasms from her and making sure she leaves puddles on the hotel floors.
Displaying her at windows and taking the risk of being caught is his new favourite game. Mainly because he likes the thought of Toto seeing just how far his angel has fallen.
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mythvoiced · 1 month
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OPEN STARTER | Patrick Finch
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"I condone lying. I encourage it, even. I recommend it. I could hardly live without it."
#;open starter#the wolf;patrick#the wolf;open#he's always the most difficult one GOSH#also you must envision he's saying this with this weird open deadpan stare where he#well how do i put it: he's clearly fucking with you but he does it with such an open genuine expression#i mean he does condone lying he's not lying here (LKDSG!!!) but he is also fucking around#so this is Patrick he's 37 or anywhere around that age he's agender primarily he/him pronouns bc whatever yknow#the agender vibes of WHATEVER i know what i'm talking about trust me i have a phd in agenderism#anyways he's an informant but about as unorthodox as you can imagine he's just fucking around and finding out frankly#very depressed very jumpy very good at hiding it lmao he's my darling ♥#he is very motherly somehow i can't explain it#he has somewhat of a history in accidentally attempting to adopt powerful young women i don't know why he???#knee-jerks into wanting to be a mother figure i don't know him that well you guys#like he met suki (ferre's kamipyre) for a few minutes one time and#days after he was wondering if she'd wore a jacket because it was cold out like--#men don't get the same kindness if you're a charming kind-hearted competent warm and humorous DAD kind of guy he's unfortunately#emotionally attracted to you? unfortunately because he hates it~ but if you're any other kind of guy you're just... you're some guy to him#yes if you're young he'll adopt you too but begrudgingly-- KLDGFGKLFDHGJF#if you're a they/them you're his kid already are you kidding that's your mum#OH I JUST HAD A TERRIBLE THOUGHT so do you know om*g*verse?? regardless of how you feel about it#it do be a thing and i just had this horrible thought about how if pat were a real guy in an established canon#he'd probs get the feminisation treatment amiright?? NO LISTEN HE USED TO BE A HUGE WOLF#AND HE'S ACTUALLY FILLED WITH SO MUCH RAGE AND WRONGED PRIDE#patrick is gentle when he likes you and because he's Smart he doesn't just BITE out of nowhere he's always been like that#Fenris was known for being INCREDIBLY well-spoken BUT ALSO A HUGE PROUD WOLF#LIKE BIG WOLF-- it doesn't show but he's Very Proud and STRONG and ??????#;queue#i picked a gif came back and realized i lost it there for a sec NO MATTER makes for good entertainment
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camptw1nk · 11 months
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I dont think i have ever mentioned nick on this blog bc hes an oc that has. Nothing to do with kurt or in common w him but looking at him next to kurt actually is so interesting to me because they're both around the same age coming from abusive homes and trying to just do what they have to to survive and theres so many interesting parallels between them
#i think they both have this. put side to side its like. they have this spectrum of how grown up a person can be in their early 20s#kurt has a very young feeling to his age and you'd believe hes younger than he is. hes immature#hes incapable of a lot of things and depends heavily on his parents and as a single child hasn't had much opportunity to learn from others#and just generally tends to feel a lot younger especially since his trauma makes him shrink down and age regress a little#whereas nick. hes spent so many years being the older brother and while he did have joe being older he still felt this huge responsibility#and he put it on himself to be the protector of his brothers esp when joe went to college so he had to grow up young#and his history of abusing substances has in many ways aged him#and he has this thing this. he got out of that house and he got free but the moment his brothers need him he moves back in#he faces down the abuse again and almost dies for it because his brothers needed him#and its something kurt never experiences because he never has the protective drive for a sibling#when he ends up back at that house it is because kurt feels too weak to stand on his own feet#when nick does it its because he knows he can be strong enough to endure long enough to protect his brothers#and theres a Lot about nick that makes him more grown up than kurt emotionally#and i do think being a single dad to a baby is very very heavily involved in that but thats a whole other thing#if/when kurt has a baby he shifts to be more grown up tok but thats not the point of this#i started this saying they have nothing in common but they r v similar actually and maybe they should kiss#i ship a lot of my muses w kurt simply bc he deserves all the love#god i love nick i miss him catch me yelling on my multi ab him
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yamujiburo · 1 year
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HANAMUSA (JESSIExDELIA) MASTER POST
I probably should have started doing this forever ago but I wasn’t sure how long I was gonna stick with drawing these comics. But I guess we’re in it now! This will be continually updated~ EVERYTHING UNDER THE CUT
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BEFORE YOU START:
This post is required reading about Team Rocket’s ages since that’s usually a question that comes up a lot LOL. As for Delia’s age, she is said to be 29 in Takeshi Shudo’s (original writer on Pokémon) novel that built out the world and characters of the anime.
Next, I feel like this chart helps give the vibe of what these characters relationship is (all just headcanons except for their names and ages)!
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WHERE TO START:
Here’s a post I made detailing how Jessie, James and Meowth initially start living with Delia. It also goes into what each character does in this AU. Before going into the post, you might enjoy this fanfic my girlfriend commissioned! It’s based off of said post and is a more enjoyable read.
Here’s also a list of headcanons!
COMICS:
Here’s all the comics I’ve done! The order of most of them are pretty ambiguous and up in the air but I put them in the order I kinda see in my head! There are some that do take place before Jessie and Delia start dating though! Also a few comics that have several parts but the “next” and “prev” links will be in each comic. So I’ll only link the first part of those ones in this masterpost.
Pre-Relationship
Fast Food
Ophidiophobia
Whipped
Making Eyes
Hairbrush
Inquiries
Separated
First Kiss
During Relationship
Big Bed
Tattoo
Crumbs
Pet Clown
I’d Like To
Jessica
Lipstick (not a comic but some fun extra dialogue for this)
Glow
Official
Stare Down
Shovel Talk
Invisible Walls
Date Night
Face Blind
One Motto Away
Snowgasboard
Delia’s Got a Cold
Mr. Jessie Ketchum
Peek-At-Chu
Hands Off Pikachu!
Wine Nights with James
Beauty and the Beach
Turning Point Arc
Sunscreen
Where Do Babies Come From
Love Life
Ugly
Ace Trainers
Pikasitting
Mother’s Day
Father’s Day
Gift for Delia
Gift for Jessie
Jessilina Fan
Crossdressing
Hickeys
Journey Arc
Tone
Cooking Twerp
Son
Cooking Advice
Serperior Facts
Cassidy’s Cabin Arc
Father/Son Bonding
Glasses
Uniform
Study Help
Happy Valentine’s Day
Wrapped
Daddy Daughter Double Battle
Splinter
Married Life
Wedding
Arbok/Weezing Reunion
Snake Eyes
MISC DRAWINGS:
I’ll update this with links to my other miscellaneous drawings later! 
FAQ:
What does "Hanamusa" mean?
Hanamusa is a combination of Delia and Jessie's Japanese names, Hanako and Musashi respectively.
When does this AU take place?
It takes place sometime after the Mezase Pokémon Master/To Be a Pokémon Master series. So all the events that happened in the series, unless retconned within the series, happened. Ash is 10 at the start of the comics.
What's the status between Jessie, James, Meowth and Giovanni/Team Rocket?
Not great terms since they were fired, but also not the worst terms. Giovanni just let the three of them go without any further issues. I will say that I've always loved the theory that Giovanni keeps Jessie specifically around because of her parentage and he as a soft spot for her that he keeps a secret. I feel like Matori was the one that got the three of them fired and Giovanni wasn't able to make an excuse for them this time (without showing nepotism/special treatment) so he was forced to let them go.
If you headcanon Delia as a lesbian, how did Ash come to be?
Delia was young when she had Ash and I hc that she just didn’t really explore her sexuality much! I myself didn’t realized I liked women until I was 18 and didn’t know I liked ONLY women until like 2 years ago. She got married, had a baby and realized after her husband left that she liked women (trans people exist obviously but I’m also interpreting Ash’s father as a cis man).
Who do you think Ash’s dad is?
I don’t know and I don’t really care to explore it. I’m going off of the novel interpretation that he’s just a deadbeat that left to be a trainer, failed and never came back because of the shame. He’s not important.
Isn’t Giovanni Ash’s dad?
That’s a common misconception that people remember wrong from the Pokémon Live show. Delia mentions she dated Giovanni but then left him and his gang after meeting Ash’s father. I also don’t consider the live show canon personally! I follow The Birth of Mewtwo timeline where Madame Boss founded Team Rocket.
Do you think Delia and Giovanni dated at least?
Nah, I think he’s too old for her? I always got the vibe from The Birth of Mewtwo that he was quite a bit older than Jessie and it’d be sus if he was dating Delia when she was married to, and had a child with her husband at 18/19. He’s a bad guy but not a BAD guy.
You mentioned you still ship Jessie and James. Why not make a Jessie, James, Delia polycule?
I have a few reasons I’ve mentioned before! 1. I’m in super deep with this AU already and I feel it’d be very confusing for casual viewers of my stuff if James was added into the relationship haha. 2. I’ve drawn Jessie and James together since 2011 and took this AU as an opportunity to try my hand at writing them as queer, platonic besties bc I love that interpretation of them a lot as well. 3. I’m not poly myself and the way I write this ship is largely based off of my experiences with my girlfriend. I just know I’d favor the Jessie/Delia of it all which isn’t fair and not a good interpretation of a poly relationship. All that said, I DO super enjoy seeing peoples’ poly headcanons and art!
Who does James end up with in this AU?
No one. He's aroace and is happy to be single
Do Jessie and James have all their Pokémon in this AU
I think they have all the Pokémon that they did by the end of Mezase Pokémon Master (all their Pokémon that were left at HQ). Most of their released Pokémon have stayed released and the Alola Pokémon are still in Alola. I bring back Arbok and Weezing post-Jessie and Delia getting married. I may bring back Chimecho, Growlie and Cacnea if I think of an idea I like!
What are Meowth and James up to in this AU?
Hop back to the top of this post under the "Where to Start" section. All your questions will be answered.
Does Ash travel with anyone at this point of his life?
I don't have anyone in particular in mind! I could see him making new friends (Nemona???) or traveling with different combinations of old friends. Like him, Misty and Goh, him, Dawn and Cilan, him, Serena and Lillie etc.
Will Delia ever get over her phobia of snake Pokémon
Not fully! I think overcoming fears is fine and good but I think real PHOBIAS are much harder to get past and I don't want to cheapen it. She slowly gets used to Jessie's Seviper specifically and gets to the point where she can pet it comfortably with Jessie in the room. But otherwise, still scared and would need that same amount of time per Pokémon
Is Jessie gaining weight or is it just me?
Not just you! Jessie puts on a bit of relationship weight overtime as you'll see in the later comics in the timeline. Jessie grew in poverty, never knowing when her next meal would be and that continued into her life as a Team Rocket member. Once she was able to settle down (with a woman who runs her own restaurant no less) she's able to live a healthier lifestyle with regular meals and puts on some weight because of that.
Does Jessie ever feel self conscious about gaining weight?
Nope! She feels happier and healthier and hotter. She's also unreasonably excited to clear out her old clothes and get a new wardrobe.
Would Jessie and Delia ever have kids together or adopt?
Nah, Ash is enough for them! I have come up with hypothetical kids for them but they're not canon to this AU. Just a fun little thing for me.
Will you ever put this on webtoon?
Nah. People mostly ask me this because they want to read everything in the order of the timeline but to my knowledge, you can’t reorder chapters or installments which would defeat the purpose. I also don’t think nintendo fan stuff would fly there. Also, also it’s just extra work and another place to upload and I want to keep this all fun for myself~
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komelrebi-san · 5 months
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gojo satoru is such a dilf, oh lord
oh no, i'm so whipped for this guy i think i might be mentally insane because how does he have the ability to make me so delusional can someone get me a gojo where can i get a gojo
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tw: MDNI!, age gap, single-handsome-neighbour trope, gojo is a rich single dad and his daughter is so damn cute, dom! gojo, fingering, slight choking, drinking, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap kiddos!!), size kink, tummy bulge, daddy+mommy dynamics, oral f! receiving, praise kink, semi-public sex (idk if it counts??), lmk if there's more!
don't like, don't read.
a/n: oops, sorry this was accidentally a bit longer than i thought it would be lmfao. pls comment/dm if you want this to be made into a full oneshot!
you, fresh out of college and just landed a well-paying job, managed to afford a house in a newly built expensive condominium. the apartment next door was uninhabited, as far as you knew. though, you were told otherwise when a little girl tugged on your hand as you walked by the playground in your condo, saying that she didn't know where her daddy was.
perhaps, for a second, you'd cursed to yourself at how careless and heartless the parent must be to have neglected their own child, especially a child as cute as this one! her hair was white as snow, shining gently in the sun; her eyes were a sharp blue, twinkling cheekily as she tugged on your fingers with her small hands. feeling yourself completely beaten by her puppy eyes, you decide to stay with her until her father arrives.
and oh, goodness, to think that all negative thoughts you had about the parent would completely disappear at one glance.
because fuck, he's gorgeous, he's the prettiest man you've ever met. and conveniently, his daughter happened to be the spitting image of him.
but wait, he lives next door! he just moved in.
at first, he was just a friend - a soft-hearted man who looks way too young to be in his early thirties: the kind that always called you over to hangout when his daughter comes because he knew you adored her chubby cheeks and grabby hands; the kind that always offered to help you with work and groceries and whatever that needed fixing in your house; the kind that always cooks for you or buys an extra serving of food on his way home from work.
but somewhere along the lines of knowing him, something sparked between the both of you (and it may or may not have been first planted in both of your minds by his fatally cute daughter, when she asked if 'the pretty lady next door will be moving in').
but it probably started on the night when he put his daughter to bed slightly later than usual, and invited you over for a drink.
there's nothing wrong with that...right?
wrong!
maybe it was the alcohol in your system, maybe it was the yearning for affection, maybe it was the ache for a proper relationship. but you'd told him what happened when he asked why your hand kept going to your neck when there's nothing there.
cheeks flushed, you'd told him how your ex cheated on you with one of your closest friends from highschool. and somehow you can't stop reaching for the necklace that you used to never take off, the one he gave you for your one-year anniversary.
and sometime after that, it led to you sitting in gojo's lap, lips against his with his large hands dangerously low on your hips. sure, it felt wrong because he already has a daughter whom you can't adore more than you already do, it felt wrong because he was like, what, 10 years older than you? and it also felt wrong because you're sure you shouldn't be kissing him when his daughter is sleeping peacefully in her bedroom just down the corridor.
but hell, it felt good too. because god, you swear this man is so damn fine - his eyes in the prettiest shade of blue possible, his soft white hair, his tall lean figure that he hasn't failed to maintain despite being a single dad in his early thirties, his large hands and, oh goodness, his voice. you're positive that you probably almost died on the spot when you saw him in a suit, veiny hands reaching to tug his tie loose with an almost wolfish grin on his lips as he said hi too you.
so, in conclusion, he's the biggest dilf you've ever met and goddamn there would never be a smash or pass judgement for him, because he is and always will be smash.
(oh, and there was this once he got grumpy and pouty because of his friend that came over...what was his name again? geto, was it? anyway, geto was really nice towards you, but gojo got pissed about it. but then again, gojo looks really cute when he's angry.)
and so, it happened.
---
dilf! gojo that never fails to give you the sweetest compliments and cutest pet names that leaves you blushing profusely. oh, he's such a menace, he thinks that you're so cute when you blush so he just ends up teasing you all the time. it's never 'y/n', it's always gotta be 'sweetheart' or 'honey' or 'cutie', or at the very very least 'n/n-chan'.
dilf! gojo that thinks it feels so natural to call you and his daughter 'his girls', curtsy of that one time when you dozed off with his daughter on your lap as you babysat her. 'my little girls look so adorable,' he'd say, sitting next to you while swinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him.
dilf! gojo that is simply casually affectionate towards those close to him, and it multiplied when it came to you, it just felt so natural. forehead kisses, head pats, hair ruffles (oh god, his big hands, sheesh). it felt right to sling an arm around your shoulder or around your waist.
dilf! gojo that loves hugging you - it's not even that sexual, he just loves having you close to him, feeling your warmth and your sweet scent envelope him, feeling your body right up against his. he thinks that you fit perfectly in his arms (bonus! if you're short, bc he likes to prop his chin on your head).
dilf! gojo that insists you call him 'satoru'.
dilf! gojo that just simply can't stop thinking about you after that kiss, because holy fuck your lips taste so good, felt so soft against his. you looked so small and delicate in his lap, he thinks he can't possibly forget about the sight. you look so pretty when you're blushing and tugging him in for another kiss, wait no, you look so pretty all the time.
dilf! gojo who doesn't fail to notice how you got upset when he asked you to babysit his daughter as he'd be away for the night on a date. oh, the pout you tried to hide. of course he noticed it, because he knew that you want him, and fuck, he wants you too. so bad. so, so bad (but still, you looked so terribly cute as you fixed his tie for him).
dilf! gojo that came back as early as possible, heart almost jumping out of his chest when he realised you'd already put his daughter to bed. oh, you looked so beautiful as you waited for him to come back, sat on the couch with a book in your delicate hands. and he wanted, no, needed to explain to you that you're all he wants, who the fuck cares about that girl he was set up with?
dilf! gojo that just simply couldn't hold himself back as he saw your lips part in shock at his explanation as to why the date was so boring. of course it was boring, she isn't you, and she will never be you. why would i be looking for someone else when i've got my beautiful girls waiting at home for me? he'd say. and it's true.
dilf! gojo that just climbed on top of you and smashed his lips into yours. holy shit, it felt so good, it's just like what he'd been chasing after since that drunken kiss with you on his lap.
dilf! gojo that is so intoxicated by your taste, your scent, everything about you. one his hands cupped your face, the other traced up your thighs. though, he doesn't forget to ask for your permission, a smile curving onto his lips when your hips buck up into his hand, a breathy whimper of 'yes, please' falling from your lips.
dilf! gojo that is so obsessed with the way your juices taste. just from licking his fingers, he was tempted into licking a long stripe along your folds, groaning when quiet whines and whimpers bubble up your throat. if he had the patience, he'd eat you out for hours...but not today, because his cock was so hard that it practically hurts, begging to be released from its restraints.
dilf! gojo that swore if he was any less of a man, he'd have cummed immediately as he slowly pushed his big cock inside you, groaning when you clamped down on him. ah, but you can't be too loud, because you'd wake his daughter. so he settled on wrapping a large hand around your throat, squeezing just so very slightly, his touch gentle but dominating.
dilf! gojo that possibly just got harder upon seeing your small figure beneath him, back arching up and head thrown back. there was a bulge in your tummy. fuck, you're taking me so good, sweetheart. such a good girl for me, oh shit. he'd say, lips on your neck, his other hand gripping your waist.
dilf! gojo that rutted into you harder and faster when he heard you call him daddy. fuck, everything that left your lips always sound so pretty. yeah? you want me to make you a mommy? fill your cute little pussy to the brim with my seed? yeah? you gonna be a good girl and take all my cum? you want me to breed you, yeah? he'd pant, moving his away from your throat to knead one of your tits, crushing your lips with his to muffle your moans.
dilf! gojo that came inside you with a groan, painting your insides white with his thick sticky seed, reaching for that spot deep inside your pussy that made you see stars.
dilf! gojo that thinks you look so pretty, fucked out and panting, tongue lolling out of your mouth and cunt clamping down on his dick like a vice, both your juices spilling out of you.
dilf! gojo is serious about wanting you and wanting to be with you.
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yanderestarangel · 6 months
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HEADKANONS MORTAL KOMBAT | "WHAT IS THE SEXUAL DIFFERENCE WITH THE S/O OF THE TWO JOHNNY CAGE?"
TW: afab anatomy, aggressive sex, age gap, fluff, v!sex, degradation, possessive sex, red flags, dilf johnny cage, mk1 and mk11 canon spoilers, pet names, smut, daddykink.
↺ OLD JOHNNY CAGE - MK11 ↺
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He is the typical hot dilf man you meet at the grocery store buying groceries and talking about how expensive they are, starting a conversation with you in line while working up the courage to ask you out, but forgetting to ask for your number.
OLD!JOHNNY CAGE - would take it slow with you not wanting to scare you, his company was relaxing and calming, making you feel safe and secure. He likes to tell dad jokes, after all, he is one, but he wouldn't mind going out with you, someone who is practically his daughter's age, after all, he knows he's better than a lot of young guys out there. He is a man who lived a lot, after his marriage and death he knew how to act and how to really please his partner.
He would talk to you on the phone sometimes before the date, just to get to know you even more.
OLD!JOHNNY CAGE - will pick you up at home with his car, it's not something luxurious, after all, he became detached from luxury as soon as he married Sonia and joined the military.
He would take you to a fine restaurant in the city, being a gentleman pulling out the chair for you to sit, and making you comfortable enough to talk to him. He wouldn't bring up the subject of Sonia's death, because it was a painful subject, he would always love her, but now he had to move on with his life, and if you wanted, it could be with you.
He knows he's seductive, even though he's 56 years old, he looks much younger too, always wearing shirts that expose his physique, especially his biceps, but he does it naturally, with a heartthrob charm, something he knows well be.
He likes to buy you dinners, being a gentleman, not out of pride but because he likes to see your smile on your face, but if you want to be independent go ahead, he likes people with attitude.
OLD!JOHNNY CAGE - would make you an announcement like "Hey, we've been hanging out together for a while, how about making it official sweetie? Will you be my boyfriend/girlfriend?" -He just said, looking at you, while taking a promise ring out of his pocket, giving you the choice of whether it was his or not. If you say "yes" get ready for a crazy ride with a crazy hot old man.
OLD!JOHNNY CAGE - is a man with an above average libido for his age, he knows how to take care of you, loving to eat out, especially if you call him "my old man" he took that nickname for himself, so you can expect Johnny discreetly rubbing his hips against you with his pulsing cock full of semen, ready to fill you up, while whispering softly in your ear: "-Fuck baby, look what you did to your old man... Making my cock hard like that , you know Daddy is going to fuck you now right?”
OLD!JOHNNY CAGE - is a soft dom, he likes to dominate you, see you whimper beneath him, but he will always prioritize your pleasure first, always working on your clitoris with his mouth and fingers - he knows how to suck extremely well, curling his fingers inside gives your pussy, even if you like it, doing a tongue job on your ass, he also loves anal, so if you let him, he will fuck you in all the holes, with a constant rhythm, dominant but affectionate -
You won't get a punishment from him, don't even try, he's a trained man, if you try to make him jealous so he can fuck you roughly - even moaning another name in bed won't help - Johnny will just laugh and shrug his shoulders -
"-Baby, I'm too old for this, it won't help, if you want me to be ruder, just say ok?" -Cage would say, smiling at you while winking, it was true, if you wanted aggressive sex, just say so, but your dilf boyfriend would guarantee that you wouldn't be able to walk for a long time.
He likes to praise you during sex, not being a big fan of degradation, but if you want, he can mix the two.
"My beautiful little slut"
"You're a good slut with a beautiful pussy, you know that?"
"Such a naughty prince/princess... I love your little pussy in my fucking cock..."
"Yes take my dick like the good boy/girl you are."
He likes to cum all over you, breasts, ass, pussy, belly, thighs and face, everything needs to be properly marked for him.
OLD!JOHNNY CAGE - who likes to fuck you in every corner of the house, lifting you in his arms while he hits your hard dick against your clitoris, making you squirm on his dick - he's vasectomized, meaning you don't need to worry in getting pregnant by him - he will fill you with cum, praising you for taking everything he gave you - "-Yes... my good boy/girl, taking all your old man's cum with that beautiful pussy, you deserve a reward you know? " -
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↺ NEW JOHNNY CAGE - MK1 ↺
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He is much softer in personality, he likes to see everything with joy in his eyes, even if they are serious matters. He would be the kind of guy you would randomly talk to on the subway, and yes, he did bring up the subject with you while smiling and lowering his sunglasses to get a better look at you.
NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - would get your number quickly, saying that you two can go out one day if you want - he doesn't really care if you recognize him as a movie actor or not, he liked you as a person and wants to get to know you a lot better - And in a few weeks of conversation, he will already be in love with you, waiting for your call or notification from you, he will bother you a lot too, more than 30 messages in less than 2 hours if you don't respond to him.
NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - will pick you up at your door in a luxurious sports car, saying that he got your address from a friend from the FBI - Yes, it was Kenshi - and that he was going to take you shopping with him, you hadn't even showered yet.
NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - will give you a prince/princess day, buying everything you want, without hesitation. He was also going to use the opportunity to vent about how he felt after the divorce with Cris, while smiling looking at you, mentally thanking you for having you in his life, he is a lonely man, even with some friends, he feels empty, probably because of his daddy issues, but he won't show weakness to you, at least not at first.
NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - who will beg you to sleep in his mansion, having a "girls night" with him and you watching several cliché films - films even from the beginning of his career - while he and you walk around in silk pajamas combining for the mansion. He also likes to take care of himself, that is, get ready to take care of his hair, whether it's helping him moisturize, coloring his hair or giving him skin care. Johnny will also let you test your makeup skills on him, taking lots of photos with weird and silly filters afterwards.
He will also ask you to be a boyfriend/boyfriend much quicker, a few dinners and caresses later and Johnny will be on your feet. His proposal will be in person, with him holding a big bouquet of roses and winking at you in a cheesy way, but he was visibly nervous, shaking and sweating a little, especially his bottom lip.
"-I wanted to do this in person (Y/N)... I just- fuck-" Johnny tries to speak, still nervous, while taking a few breaths, finally recovering his posture. "-Will you date me?" He finally continues the request, nervous and afraid of rejection, but if you accept him he will let out a sigh of relief, and then you will have to calm him down, because he will be pale from being so nervous.
NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - He fucks you slowly the first few times, soft jazz music played in the background of the five-star hotel room you were staying in that weekend, it was the first time you had sex, and he was controlling himself so as not to hit you hard On the mattress, he felt his hips sway with each sweet moan that left your lips, he held you tighter and started to pick up the pace even more. His eyes were closed and he seemed to feel the heat rising inside him. His moans were driving him crazy.
"-Oh Lord..." Johnny Cage whispered, as if he wanted you to hear how good you made him feel, he held your hands tightly and started moving even faster. His breathing was heavy. "-Please...tell me to go faster baby, please."
NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - Who is extremely jealous, you can't make him jealous, this will end with Johnny having aggressive possessive sex with you, holding your head against the mattress with expensive sheets, slightly suffocating you. His pulsing cock was pounding into your uterus at a punishing and painful pace. "-Look at you (Y/N)." he sneered, his voice full of disdain.
"-A pathetic, desperate slut, begging for release. Did you honestly think you could find satisfaction with anyone other than me? That anyone else could make you feel the way I do?" -He turned you around, forcing you to face him, Johnny was sweaty, his gaze was pure hatred and jealousy. "-You disgust me" he spat in your face as he took your lips in an aggressive kiss that left you breathless, his tone full of contempt. "-You thought you could show off your body and tempt others? Thinking you could get away with it? No, my precious, there are consequences for your actions." Cage accelerated the movements of his dick in your wetness, while he growled between moans, taking his hands to your breasts and squeezing them.
NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - who likes a bit of everything, you can pin him with your wrists to the bed, and use his dick for your pleasure, with his mouth gagged with your panties, watching you enjoy him, while he begs for you, so you can let him cum inside the heat of your pussy, tearing up as he looks at you, whimpering against the fabric in his mouth.
NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - who even though he loves seeing you on top, loves even more being a hard!dom and fucking you with all the accumulated lust he has, hitting his dick on your pussy, rubbing the tip of his fat dick on your clitoris to make you squirm, who loves to run his hand over the bulge that his dick makes in your belly, while he enters your pussy and makes you tremble, he loves to degrade you, making you always be his submissive.
"-Look at you, completely wet, just begging for my cock."
"-Come for me. Show me how much you want my cock, how much you need me to fill you like the submissive whore you are."
"-I'm the only one who can use and pleasure that sweet pussy of yours."
"-You're nothing but a whore to me." "
"-Fucking hell- Yes... You're nothing but a pathetic little whore, begging for someone to fuck you, a pretty, pathetic whore for my dick."
"-That beautiful mouth of yours was made for just one thing: to give me pleasure. To worship every inch of my cock."
NEW!JOHNNY CAGE - Who will fuck you on top of the piles of money he earned, spread out on the mattress, messy - wolf of wall street style - while you feel the dollar bills scratch you, while he smiles at you, holding your thighs while your pussy swallows him. "-What will you want baby? a car? a Versace bag? another house in Malibu? anything you want, just moan and talk to daddy in that pretty voice, and I'll give you everything you want my prince/ Princess." He went back to fucking you, watching your breasts bounce as the money bills scattered across the floor, and you moaned in response to him.
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©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023
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flkwh0re · 3 months
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The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie.
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Contains smut.
Warnings: Readers age is not specified but she is of age, Homophobia, Blood, Puking (reader only does it once while crying), Abuse, Mentions of death, Breif thoughts of suicide, Religion, Use of a slur (once), Nat gaslights reader, Nat punches reader to knock her out, Blasphemy, Dubcon (Nat begins to fuck reader while she’s unconscious then reader wakes up and tries to fight it but eventually gives in), Fingering, Dumbification(-ish???)
Wc: 1,713
A/n: Please listen to Preachers Daughter by Ethel Cain to get the whole ideal feeling of this fic. As a woman who grew up in the south and the church, this album hits really well. Also inspired by the song ‘The Devil Wears a Suit and Tie’ By Colter Wall!
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It started off with your father finding out from the woman you trusted most, Carol Danvers. How could she rat you out like that to your father like that? She was your best friend, the only person who knew about your secret.
No one close to you expected you to be a lesbian, even if they called you a fag or said the way you dressed was weird, the way you acted.
He had come home in a fit rage, busting the front door down. You were sure it came off the hinges. Before you knew it, you were backed into the corner, body aching from the blows you had taken, your throat hoarse from the shouting.
You finally found the courage to run and lock yourself in your room, quickly packing a backpack. Throwing in some clothes, shoes, items dear to you, essentials, and a book.
You unfastened the window, punching through the window screen. You hiked your leg out the window and dropped down. To your dismay, your father saw you.
He bolted out the door, and you quickly jumped onto your bike. pedaling as hard as you could, trying to escape the man you feared more than God.
Your dad hadn’t always been like this, he was always more understanding. When your mother died though, he changed. He began to drink and become terribly abusive. His narcissistic behavior only worsened when he ‘strengthened his faith.’
Your breathing became uneven and ragged, exhaustion consuming your overwhelmed body. You finally gave out running off the side of the road, you slid down a hill, bumping into every rock possibly.
Once you were able to stand, blood dripped down your legs and arms. Small amounts also trickled down your face, along with sweat. Dirt and grime coated your body thickly.
You took off to a bridge you saw, climbing up under it, hoping to hide there for a few hours. You heard the loud thuds of your father's footsteps, your heart pounding with each step. He discovered your slightly mangled bike against a tree, and once he realized you were gone, he cried. You’d not heard him cry since your mother's funeral, it almost made you come out of hiding. You knew his sorrow wouldn’t last, the moment it dispersed he’d be the same man as always.
Your father had finally given up his search for you, not like he cared much anyway. His daughter was ‘one of them queers’ as he’d say. He couldn’t stand people like that, but you were his daughter. He needed to find you, he needed to help you. He knew a woman, Natasha Romanoff.
Natasha was the pastor of the local church. She hadn’t been preaching there for a while, but in her short time she’s ‘helped’ so many young men and women. Now of course her time was spent more catered towards teenagers, but she would be more than willing to help you.
Once night settled in, darkness clouded your eyes. You knew your father wouldn’t get anyone out to look for you, so you figured you’d move at night. You had to get away, and fast.
You stepped onto the main road, your small flashlight in hand that barely worked. The thick mid-June air made sweat slick your body as you walked along the gravel road. No one to your knowledge loved this way, or so you thought.
You followed the small road for what felt like an eternity, your thin tank top clung thickly to your skin. Your overheated weary body fell to the ground, you slumped over laying on your side. Salty hot tears spilled down your face. Thoughts of hatred filled your mind.
How could you disappoint your father like this? How could you betray god like this? a you felt disgusted, so disgusted that as your tears ran you began to heave. Thick bile spilled from your mouth.
If only you could just stop it all, end all your suffering right now. You wouldn’t even hesitate.
You had laid in the spot for what felt like hours, wishing some animal would find you. What found you was even worse.
The sound of a car engine, and squeaky breaks stirred you. Bright headlights blinded you. You wanted to run, you figured now someone had found you and would return you to your father.
The soft crunches of gravel echoed in your ears; a figure approached you. They leaned down and you got a good look at her face. Natasha Romanoff.
“Hey sweetheart, what in the world are you doing out here? What’s happened to ya? Oh my goodness, you’re all bloody laying in a mess of vomit. Let me get you to my house” As she tried to help you to her car you kicked and squirmed.
Loud cries of no came from you, and Natasha was beginning to become impatient. As you thrashed your body around, trying to escape the woman who would bring you to your doom, you speared blood on her spotless suit. She finally had it with you, her fist struck a heavy blow across your face. Your mind went foggy and your eyes dizzy, eventually you lost consciousness.
“If you would’ve just cooperated, I wouldn’t have had to do that.” Natasha said through gritted teeth. She picked up your limp body and carried you to her truck, softly placing you in the seats next to her.
She drove down the road until she reached another small road, turning down it. No one knew about her second life, her home hidden away in the woods. She wasn’t who everyone thought she was. In fact, she was what everyone deemed evil.
She pulled up next to a small trailer house and stepped out of her truck. Natasha stepped around to the other side, pulled you into her arms carrying you bridle style into the house. She brought you to a broken-down couch that reeked of cigarettes.
Natasha walked off to her small room to change out of her dirty, bloodied clothes. She trudged to small refrigerator to grab a beer, cracking it open and taking a big drink.
As she made her way to the couch where you were, an idea popped in her head. She peeled your tank top off your body, revealing your bra. She examined your chest and stomach, dried blood and dirt smeared on your delicate skin.
Natasha unclipped your bra, slipping it off your arms throwing it off. Her hands grope at the soft flesh of your chest. She kneels down, so she can get closer to your breast. Her mouth latches onto your nipple, licking and sucking.
You began to finally regain consciousness, once you realized what was happening your eyes shot open. “No stop! Get off of me!” You shouted, trying to wrestle the older woman off you. She grabbed your wrist in her hand, pinned them onto the arm rest of the couch.
“No baby, you need me. See.” She slipped her hand into your shirt, gathering your slick on her fingers. She removed them and showed you her fingers wet with your arousal, “See baby, now be a good girl and let me fuck you.”
Her hands unbuttoned your shorts and slipped back into your panties. Her rough fingers rubbed at your clit, then she slipped two into your dripping cunt.
A loud cry and moan left your mouth, tears spilled from your eyes. “See baby, it feels so good doesn’t it. Tell me it feels good.” She rasped as she pumped her fingers in and out of you. You weakly nod your head, but Natasha wasn’t satisfied. “No, I want words. I want to hear you say it feels good.”
“Fuck! I-it feels good Natasha.” She chuckled, “Such a dirty mouth.” She curled her fingers up into the right spot, your legs trembled and your back arched up into her. “Fuck ‘m goin’ to cum!” You moaned out, as your juices gushed onto Natasha’s fingers.
She slipped her fingers into her mouth, sucking off your slick and moaning around her digits at your taste. “Fuck baby, you taste so good. I wanna taste you from the source, but we can do that another time. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
You nodded and she helped you stand. You laid your head on her shoulder as she walked you to the bathroom. She readied the water as you slipped yourself out of your shorts. You couldn’t believe you were giving into her; she was so tempting you couldn’t even fathom saying no to her. Like a presence luring you in, like the devil themself.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about pretty girl?” She asked you. “Nothin’.. thank you thought. For this, it’s real kind of you.” She smiled, “Oh it’s nothin’ darlin’, it’s my job.”
You slipped into the warm water, and Natasha began to scrub the dirt off you. She’d give you the occasional kiss on your face, she just couldn’t help it. She’d had her eye on you for a while, she got pretty lucky tonight.
“I’ll keep you safe, don’t worry.” She spoke up, “What?” You questioned her, how would she know? “Your father already spoke to me, but don’t worry. Stay here with me, let me take care of you. I won’t say a word to him.” You nodded, “Okay, promise?” She grinned, “I promise.” She placed as soft kiss of your head, then pulled the plug.
Natasha wrapped the towel around your body and took you to her room. “Here why don’t you put these on, and I’ll grab you a sandwich. Is peanut butter okay?” You smiled and nodded.
Once you had put the clothes on she gave you, Natasha had returned with a bottle of water and the sandwich. “Eat this then we can go to bed, I bet you’re exhausted.” She said as she got into bed, motioning for you to join her. “I am.”
You finished eating, and snuggled up with Nat. She hummed you to sleep, whispering sweet nothings to you. She placed a kiss on your scalp and spoke soft words, “I won’t let anything hurt you.”
You felt safe with Natasha, you still weren’t sure what changed in you. You knew you could finally be comfortable with your life though.
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hi luv! i hope you're doing great. Saw your recent post and i do have a hc request (since im having a haikyuu brainrot rn 👀), what would you think of making papa!haikyuu hcs 😩. How would these volley boys make as a father! (especially kenma, tsukki and noya) and you can add your favs too 💕sjsjjsjs hope you have a great day ahead!
I'm doing okay, I hope you are doing good and that you have a nice day! I hope you enjoy this post and it is to your liking
Them as fathers
Characters: Kenma, Noya, Tsukki Gender neutral reader, it is not mentioned whether the children are adopted or biological, Kenma’s is longer than the others because i had way too many ideas for him
Kenma Kozume
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First things first: I don’t think Kenma would have more than one kid, if you really wanted to have more he would relent but he is perfectly happy with just one, he thinks 3 people is the perfect number for your little family.
You may think he wouldn’t be that involved in his kids life, but that is a big misconception,
No matter how much work he has to do he makes sure to spend time with you and your kid.
Kenma would never show his child on the internet in any way, he wants to keep his private life private and keep his child safe, he knows how cruel the internet can be, no way in hell will he put his young child into that kind of situation.
Once your child learned to crawl he brought the three starters of Pokémon black and white (gen 5 best games I don’t take criticism) to see which one your child would choose.
Based on what they chose he will be sulky or proud. (I nearly made this into Oshawott propaganda but I didn’t you’re welcome). But at the end of the day he knows that they just choose one based on colours and shapes, he would teach them once they are older how to perfectly choose a starter.
Best believe that as soon as your kid is old enough to understand things he will show them all kinds of (age appropriate) video games.
You enter his gaming room with some snacks for him and you can just see him play Slime Rancher as your kid sits in his lap, eyes glued to what their father is doing.
He already has started a Stardew Valley coop farm for you three to play together one day, he is just waiting for the day your child is old enough.
Now enough video game talk, (though I have so many more ideas about this lol) your child loves it when Kenma reads to them before they sleep, his voice is very soothing to them.
Once they are asleep Kenma stays at their side a bit longer, watching them sleep a serene smile on his face.
Kenma can’t say no to your kid, he will buy them anything they want. You sometimes wonder how he can be so responsible with his money in any other situation, but your child just needs to point at something and he will buy it for them unless you intervene.
Lastly, be prepared for Kenma and your kid to team up against you. Board games? Yeah they are a team even if the game isn’t a game for teaming up. (Monopoly is a nightmare with them, Oh you need a red? Too bad your kid and Kenma are trading it between one another instead of giving it to you) But you can’t really seem to mind when you see the way Kenma and your kid smile. (Unless you are like me and are fiercely competitive in games then you may want to strike Kenma down)
Yu Nishinoya
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Noya would take longer to have children with you, at least until he is done travelling, he does want kids but is aware that travelling the world with them wouldn’t be ideal, he wants them to have a stable home.
Once you two do have kids, he wants at least 2 or 3. Noya wants a big family.
I feel like he is the type of Dad that throws his kids in the air and then catches them (he won’t do it high) and it always gives you a heart attack.
Instead of reading them good night stories he always tells them (embellished) stories from when he travelled the world, for example he once exclaimed to one of your kids how a mermaid vied for your attention but he fought them heroically off.
This does bite him in the ass years down the line once your kids are teens, they will bring these stories up whenever they can to tease him.
Asahi is basically an uncle to your kids, he often visits you and brings the kids many gifts. He loves to spoil them.
And yes Asahi designs the clothes for your kids as well, it often leads to many people asking you and Noya where you got the clothes for them from since they are such a high quality.
Yes, he will teach your kids “Rolling thunder”. No you can’t stop him. Even if your kids don’t play Volleyball they will still know the move.
This leads to your kids looking for his old jersey’s from highschool, putting them on and pretending to  be their dad. No he is not crying, he just got dust in his eye.
Vacations and holidays are important to Noya, while he can’t travel the world with your kids, he will take them on memorable vacations across the country when they are old enough to remember them.
He wants them to have a happy and fulfilled childhood with as many experiences as they can have.
Kei Tsukishima
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When you first brought up having children with him he asked “Are you sure you can take care of a child? Don’t you wanna practise with a pet rock first?” You lightly punched him in the chest for that and he had his signature smirk on his face.
He is honestly neutral on the aspect of having kids, he is not against it but also it was never his dream of having them, so he is fine with whatever you want.
Just like Kenma he would probably only have one kid, with his Job as a Volleyballplayer and everything he isn’t home that often, so if you had more than one kid he would feel guilty leaving you home alone with them.
Tsukki is probably the first one from Karasuno to have a kid, so he is smug about the fact that he is ‘better’ than the others in that regard.
The first team reunion after you two had your child will have him holding his child proudly, while he tells all the others how slow they are for not having kids yet, which has everyone rolling their eyes. He is very proud of his kid so that he will hold it up Lion King style so everyone can admire it.
Unluckily though he miscalculated the height of the ceiling and bonked your kids head on it, which left everyone in the room in a stunned silence (True story from my infant days, my dad did this exact thing with me)
You had made him change every diaper for 2 weeks for the heart attack he gave you with that, even if your kid was fine and wasn’t hurt.
Tsukki and you switch every night who is going to read your kid, while you pick different topics every time, he only ever chooses dinosaur stories to read to your kid.
Speaking of dinosaurs, Tsukki once claimed he had to educate your kid on certain things while you went out grocery shopping, when you came back you saw that the thing he was educating your child on was “The land before time” which made you smile.
Now no matter if the child is biologically yours or adopted, it somehow interhits his sass, which means you will be surrounded by two sassy little pieces of shit (affectionate).
Though you get both of them to calm down their sass by offering them some strawberry cake if they stop, it surprisingly works better on Tsukki then on your kid, who would have thought?
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andraxicated · 2 years
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fantasy, fantasy~
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Pairings: Pierro, Dottore, Pantalone, Childe, Scaramouche x f! reader
Synopsis: What does he think about when he sees you? Whether you deliberately seduce him or not, he's helplessly bewitched by you.
Tags: smut | suggestive | age gap | implied breeding kink | bullying | mirror sex | degradation | public sex | kitsune reader in scara's part
a/n: omg fatui I'm on my knees! had a lot going on with my life these days like my neighbor's house burst into flames and stuff.
wanted to write for capitano but there's no face to fantasize about. coz i feel like a face already tells a personality y'know.
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Pierro
as he's a man well into his age, he does not long for worldly desires. he simply decided he had enough of those in his youth and all he wishes is for her majesty's will to be fulfilled. being no.1 of the harbingers comes with all kinds of people currying favor with him. it's uninteresting to listen to all their blabbers but when this certain politician pulls out his daughter from the side, pierro is captivated.
you look so innocent in white and your youthful face was shining, he almost thought an angel came down to earth. but what caught his eye aside from your face was the peek of cleavage on the otherwise modest frock. you brought in an air of freshness and purity along with the blend of a subtle seductress. you were exactly his type, and yours, him.
little side eyes while you're sipping on your wine, and he's staring at you while he's talking with another. to have pierro's attention solely on you have you excusing yourself from the sudden surge of heat. he cuts off the conversation quickly to follow this maiden he had only seen today. why has your dad kept you hidden for so long? you must be the trump card that he used to entice pierro and others. just the thought makes him seethe.
you jump at the shadow of the fire, startled to see the man behind you. "lord harbinger" you bow and greet, nervous yet trained in poise. 'a well-bred lady. perfect' you were perfect in all aspects that pierro cannot find a single flaw. when he slowly removes your garments and exposes your naked body to the light of the fireplace. he simply finds it suited for childbearing. "don't cover yourself darling. let me see"
when he finally sinks into you, he's reminded of how good it actually was. "fuck it's been so long" he groans and thrusts faster to gauge your reactions and to feel the rub against your walls. plus points if you're a virgin, he'd gladly oblige to show you the ways. but when he learns you're not, you're in for a punishment. "you disappoint me" he slaps your ass while you cry at the impact, yet he pays no mind and degrades you further. "whoring yourself out at such a young age. tell me...who was it?"
after finishing inside you and envisioning you as the mother of his child, he presses an unexpected kiss to the side of your head. "I'll save you. don't worry, I have a plan." pierro says while soothing circles on your tummy. it's a pity your father brought you to a political mishap but fear not; because pierro has a plan. a plan to destroy his enemies and to make you his pretty little wife.
Dottore
during the days spent in the akademiya, dottore doesn't make or have any friends. he's labeled a freak and a madman; disgusted shunning looks were thrown in his way yet dottore doesn't mind. for he is too engrossed in his research and science to give attention to what they say. it all went too far when he's suddenly ganged up by big, burly guys who started beating him up in the corridor. he has no choice but to pathetically cover himself and curl up as they kick and kick until patches of his skin turn purple.
he had to listen to their savage mouths while bearing the pain and archons, he hated them for delaying his research. after they're done with this little fun, he's gonna turn them into humanoids that does everything he says. you, who's an important student in the akademiya and wandering about, saw this scene that had you grabbing a nearby sculpture and smashing it at their heads. the bullies scurry after seeing it was you, and dottore grimaces at you before running away.
"what are you? walking justice?" he sneers whenever you're trying to help but doesn't shake you off. after months of persistence from you; you've become 'best friends' and earned him immunity from the bullies. dottore thought it was great because there was no one hindering him. unexpectedly, he found himself falling for you and fantasizing about you. in nights when he's feeling frustrated, he takes off his pants and takes out his cock to stroke it. closing his eyes; thinking of moments where your breast would suddenly press against him, your panties inside your dorm, and the sinful actions you did in his mind.
ultimately, fate had other plans for the both of you. neither of you didn't want it but your visions of the future just didn't align, and so you parted ways with him after graduation. it was years after when you saw the familiar tuft of blue hair that had you instinctively calling for him. yet the one that turned to you was eerily masked. you're suddenly unsure of who you called but the gloved hand took off its mask and showed you a smile. you caught up with dottore over drinks that had both of you coughing in bitterness. your lips and his were on the rim of the glasses then next those lips were stuck to each other.
years of pent-up frustration are released as you two frantically take off the other's clothes. you lift your sweater off your head as his calloused hands immediately follow in tracing your curves. you could only submit to him by falling back onto the sheets, letting him have his way down when he takes off your pants. little licks transform into devouring kisses have you clenching and gripping his hair. quick orgasms came one after the other to the point you're helplessly sobbing and squirming.
he laughs inside his mind. you remind him of his subjects when he's about to tinker with them. "stop squirming" he stills your shaking thighs while taking his time in rubbing his face against your pussy. "t's too much! dottore stop I-" "let me have my way with you tonight yeah? compensation for leaving me." you didn't even know he took off his pants; you just felt the startling penetration and the scream out of your lungs. dottore chuckled at your head thrown back and lunged for your neck to nip. all you could do that night was to stare at him with glossy eyes and a fucked out face as he does all the work above you. "just spread your legs. don't worry about anything"
Pantalone
with crossed legs and a stark expression, he watches you sing and act on stage. you reserved the best seats for him as usual, he was your benefactor after all. you creating scenes with a male actor; his hands snaking on your waist as you look at each other lovingly is unbearable. pantalone knows he shouldn't be jealous as those endearments are all fake. yet he can't help but be possessive when you swore that your body belongs to him.
you open the door to your backstage room only to see him drinking with a sullen face. "my dear patron is so kind to see me personally." he chuckles at what you said and puts down the champagne flute before standing up and towering over you. "your performance is marvelous is always." he helps you take off the fur coat, gives you a rough kiss, then expertly unzips your gown down to your ass. giving the flesh a light squeeze before a hard spank.
it causes you to jolt in surprise and pull away from him. confused doe eyes staring at his cheeky smile. "that hurts! 500 thousand mora for that." you huff away to take off your accessories yet pantalone suddenly pulls you back in his arms. if you looked in the mirror you could've fooled yourself that he was your real lover. but you had to remind yourself that both of you are doing this for pleasure and money.
"love, you could ask for more and I'll give it to you." he whispers with a lilt while looking into your eyes through the mirror. there, you both watch as he fully undresses you and grips your chin to direct an open-mouthed kiss. you always find yourself anticipating these trysts as it always manages to surprise you. this time it's having sex in front of a mirror, and you're forced to watch your tear-stricken face contort as he penetrates you from below.
pantalone groans at the feeling of your tight walls while you're caged in his strong arms, moaning and thrashing like some common whore. "you see that? you see yourself?" he asks then hisses as he feels your hole flutter when you nod. he lets out an airy laugh and positions his hands on your waist while his fingers press down on your lower belly, giving a stimulating squeeze as he remembers that the actor held this earlier too. the position lets waves of pleasure concentrate on your lower half and so you're uncontrollably dripping. "please move" you beg pantalone with the utmost helpless face you can muster yet he just raises an eyebrow and smirks.
"why should I move when you're the one on top?" "...huh?" your small voice comes out as a croak as you look at him confused. his smile disappears when he suddenly lifts you up and drops you down on his cock as a demonstration. a piercing shriek echoes in the room along with breaths of surprise from you. "didn't you want to be on top? then go on and ride." his dark voice prompts you to shamelessly start enjoying yourself and using him but the burn causes you to stop moving...yet, his sinister eyes reflected compel you to swallow down the protests and keep on bouncing lewdly.
Childe
this battle maniac never thought he'd be obsessed with something other than the thrill of fighting. it's all thanks to you who's the newest recruit, dressed in a skimpy and tight uniform that seems a bit too small for your size. it's very uncomfortable that you have to make some adjustments with the mannerism of biting your lip. and oh how much childe wants to see that face underneath him. moaning, sobbing and pleading. the walk towards you was difficult with blood rushing to his groin.
"need help?" his chirpy voice startled you as you attempt to pathetically cover yourself when he already saw it. "uhm, young master I don't mean to be rude but this is highly inappropriate." just from the tone of your voice tells him that you want him badly as much as he does. childe shakes his head with a "tsk" that made you cower a bit. "do you think your stares were appropriate?" "wha-" "I saw your lustful gaze when I was changing in the open the other day."
'caught you'. your eyes were trembling and your mouth unable to utter a word. you never thought you would be found out this easily by your superior, childe thinks you forgot he was a harbinger who senses leering. "I'm sorry" 'how cute' he muses then he feels another throb in his pants that has him doing a bold move. "why don't you show you're sorry?"
plops of skin slapping, your own muffled cries, and his stifled laughs were all that was registering in your ear. childe never thought he would be this freaky by fucking you in public. no one should be able to use this room as he has instructed but you don't know that of course. so why don't he put a little fear in you?
"fuck take it all" he plunges into your wet folds with a groan, steadying himself by burying his face into your soft mounds. you could only close your eyes and bear the pain of penetration as you work on calming your breathing. once you seemed to be at peace, childe destroys it all at once. "what would they think if they see you in this position? hmm?" "ah!" your eyes snap open when he pushes the limits of your walls. thrusting beyond what you could imagine as your juices squelch and flow.
"naughty girl. leaving evidence behind." he scoffed playfully at your messed up face while slowly pulling out and harshly pushing in. "noooo. I'm cumming!" you moan out something you didn't even comprehend but childe knows exactly what you mean as he speeds up his pleasure to catch up with your orgasm. it seems like childe has another newfound obsession. your dazed look, your filled wrecked cunt, and the thrill of being caught.
Scaramouche
he never thought he would be coming back to his homeland after years. sent on an important mission concerning the gnosis yet he had other things he wanted to achieve. scaramouche deems yae's deal good enough; the traveler's safety in exchange for the gnosis and his kitsune friend's whereabouts. they say never to trust a kitsune as those creatures are sly, but scaramouche's foolish heart would always lead him back to you. a heart? he has one only for you.
did that darn fox fool him? he's been looking around the island and chinju forest for hours now yet you're nowhere to be found. just the thought of losing on a bargain makes him so mad that— *ripple* scaramouche's head turns vigilantly on the sound of a drop on the river. 'someone's here' he senses and surveys the surroundings. the area is lit enough thanks to the blue flowers but there's still patches of darkness. if he isn't careful he might get ambushed on the spot. "agh!" ambushed it is as a groan comes out of his mouth when his back falls onto the ground, amidst the illuminating flowers. his hand quickly forms a ball of electro to attack, but his vexed expression and the energy in his hand soon dwindled when he saw the beauty laying atop him.
he could only stare and you could gawk at how much this person grew. "kuni? kunikuzushi?" you call out to him yet he just lays there underneath you. he's too much in a shock to see you after so many years. you've grown even more beautiful, your voice still like a lullaby, and your body matured, enhanced with curves and chest bigger...ah, scaramouche pushes you off him to hide the flush on his cheeks. you could only giggle at him as he still has a bit of his innocence despite what you've heard. "you're still pretty" he looks at you like you grew two heads at your remark, and another tint of pink paints his cheek once again. 'he never changed'
what's unspoken between the two of you was the summer night spent in secrecy. your squirming body against the futon, his sighs of pleasure, your mewls, and the tears that he shed as he came inside your womb. now, it's all but a distant memory as you act like nothing happened. did you use him for the experience? the thought of someone other than him seeing you vulnerable could make him straight up murder. a sly grin creeps on your mouth as you try to read what he's thinking. 'oh he's so in for a surprise' you giggle inside your head.
in a fit of anger, scaramouche decides to go outside but as soon as he slides the door, he's met with your body clad in a thin robe. your nipples perked and everything was on display for him. before you could say anything, he jumps on you to hungrily ravage your lips. deft fingers pull the robe and take it off your body, all the while making out and pushing you towards his room.
he's so happy he could die as he finally thrusts the head of his cock past your entrance. the feeling of being full once again makes you whine so loud that scaramouche has to shut you up with a spit-connected kiss. "never thought you for a romantic" you tease him with a lofty smile at his slow pace and he thrusts upward in return. "I'm not" scaramouche replies while pulling out; he puts on the face he wears when dealing with his incompetent subordinates. "surely you can take a harsh fucking right?" he growled before wiping the smile off your face with a plunge that made you see stars.
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solecist · 2 months
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more context for 악어(acau)'s translation (troubles? future troubles?)!
@blockgamepirate mentioned pronouns in context of translation in a reblog and that got me thinking about a bunch of things lmao but mostly about 반말 (banmal).
악어 decided really early on into his experience with the translator to try to use banmal bc he felt like the translator was picking up on it better, and he probably thought this because of two things:
banmal is usually shorter than 존댓말 (jondaemal) which is the polite/default way of speaking. and when i say default i mean my parents sometimes use it to refer to each other. it's more than just politeness, it's also a certain amount of respect? with younger people (high school, college, maybeeee graduate student age) people tend to use banmal with friends. older people use banmal to talk to children, and children use banmal except when talking to older people. i think the easiest way of showing just how much shorter banmal is, is to use "안녕" (korean "hello") as an example. "안녕" (annyeong) is actually banmal! you absolutely wouldn't say this to someone you've just met - you would say "안녕하세요" (annyeonghaseyo) which is jondaemal. but do you see how the second is three syllables longer? there's more of a margin of error with three more syllable and that's why the machine translator doesn't work as well with jondaemal.
The most casual way of speaking banmal uses pronouns. korean doesn't have gendered pronouns really, and the pronouns it does have seem. rude? generally? children use pronouns a lot and adults use pronouns when speaking to children but otherwise.... if you're not friends (and young honestly have yet to find an midsized (40+) adult regularly use pronouns) calling someone "you" is like. an insult. it works (that is, it doesn't feel like an insult) in 악어's stream for me because it felt like he was speaking in a significantly simpler/slower register after a while? like the register you'd use for kids. but i did want to put it out there! because if you're trying to learn korean through 악어's stream, you're probably listening to him use banmal! and that's just something to be aware of.
more pronoun thoughts! in terms of gender - korean doesn't have gendered pronouns. the closest you get in third person is something like "that girl" so machine translate will almost never get it right. it will default to masculine (in my experience) or the first person ("i" "me") so that's something to keep in mind. honestly my dad often defaults to masculine third person pronouns because he forgets pronouns are gendered in english and that there's more than one of them lmaooo. korean does gender relationships A Lot (oppa is the one that most people will know - brother from female speaker to older male listener) but pronouns wise there's. no gender oop.
i just wanted to put this out there because as 악어 becomes more a part of the qsmp community, we'll probably slowly pick up on the more regular patterns of awkward machine translation from an east asian language to english, and more specifically from korean to english. and if it's confusing that's ok! assume good faith - 악어 from what i can tell isn't a streamer who'll use insults a lot or curse, and his normal way of speaking to his audience is very soothing/polite/jondaemal, so i hope that people keep watching him throughout this introduction period!
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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months
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In the cave boy fic, I hope Danny has to end up fighting against reanimated hot dogs (I blame the Joker) and when asked why he can fight off reanimated meat. he comments that that's a normal Tuesday in his house as his mom and dad end up reanimating dinner at least once a week, and honestly being here is the longest time he spent without having to fight against reanimated food. He loves his parents but they really need to practice better lab safety or at least stop putting the ectoplasm samples in the same fridge with the food.
This is also adjusted to the cave boy storyline before he takes out the Joker.
One morning, Brucie wakes up and decides to cook everyone breakfast since the night previous was rough for the crime fighters. Almost everyone had gotten injured in one of Riddler's games, nothing life-threatening, but they would be sore and in some cases, in casts for some time. Alfred had been the one to patch the heroes up, so even the aged butler had a rough time.
Bruice had woken before anyone, quickly frying up some sausages, making various versions of eggs (boiled, scrambled, fried, over-easy, omelets) spread out on the table for them to pick which lond they wanted. He made some oatmeal and cut up various fruit in a pretty arrangement of swans.
When the family finally dragged their tired bodies down to the table, they were all greeted by the sight of Alfred being utterly flabbergasted by the spread Bruice proudly presented. Bruicie happily has them take a seat, gathering a plate for them- not before forcing Alfred to sit at the head of the table and make Bruce move to the seat usually reserved for the Lady of the house- and cheerfully place a plate before him.
Everyone was giving each other unsure looks or staring at the plates in wonder. Even Bruce.
Because if there was one thing that was another consent in all the multiverse it was that Bruce Wayne can not cook. The closest any variate has even gotten was burned beyond recognition ash.
Yet here was an entire spread that while not the meal of kings still looked rather taste and some may even say artsty.
"Don't just sit there. Dig in!" Brucie laughs. His hair bounces around his face in an adorable helo, and the family can only stare.
"How did you do this? Is it laced with something?" Tim's voice is heavy with suspicion, which would have been an overreaction if everyone wasn't feeling the same way.
"What? No, It's just eggs, sausage and fruit. With some presentation, I guess, but this isn't hard to make," Brucie says with a hint of defensiveness. "I worked really hard on it."
"We all appricate it Brucie." Dick speaks up leveling the table with a hard look "And we will eat it no matter the taste."
Ah, that must be it. It may look editable, but indeed it would taste terrible. In fact, they wouldn't put it past a version of Bruce Wayne to cause them all to cling to a toilet with his cooking.
Knowing it best to get it over with, the Bats pick up a utensil and carefully cut a bite of eggs or sausage. They hesitate for a moment- Brucie digs in, chewing loudly and quickly through his omelet-throwing. Each other looks to wish them luck, and in one symmetrical movement, everyone eats.
It's...heavenly. It tastes as good as Alfred's food, which they thought no one could match. Before they know it, they fill their plates and go for seconds, not long afterward.
Alfred is all but glowing with paternal pride by the end.
"Young Master Brucie, I had no idea you knew how to cook and so wonderfully as well!" Aldred compliments
Brucie looks up, one piece of sausage dangling from his mouth, reminding them he had no table manners. How in the world does Alfred of his world allow that? They would never know.
Brucie swallows before grinning widely. "Thanks. I love cooking when it's not attacking me."
What?
"Come again?" Bruce asks, blinking slowly as Brucie launches into tale after tale about his food reanimating and creating armies in the family fridge to fight for their freedoms. Or just eating as quickly as possible to prevent the food from coming to life.
He jokingly points at the plate with the sausage. "We better hurry before they develop eyes."
He then just goes back to eating like nothing and the rest of the table is left horrified. Eventually, Brucie excuses himself to go watch a mind-numbing movie- because he doesn't do anything- and they rush the food down to the cave for tests.
They all panic until the results come back like usual, and they realize that he is likely just joking. They all feel bad for doubting him, all but Tim and Cass, who knew Brucie had not lied or joked.
His food honestly did come to life in his old world. They just don't know what to do with that information.
Why did Bruce have to be weird in all universes?
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yeostars · 4 months
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𓆩♡𓆪 ateez as girl dads / boy dads / or both ;) imo !! {Hyung line ver.}
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
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Hongjoong- both .ᐟ
I swear, i spent 15 minutes thinking how hongjoong would be a perfect girl AND boy dad.
Like, imagine hongjoong and his s/o have fraternal twins- aka both boy and girl twins. My man would be the happiest dad alive, proud to be the father of two lovely kids, having the best of both worlds.
Something that hongjoong loves the most about his two kiddos is how they are the literal carbon copies of both him and his s/o. Like his baby girl resembles hongjoong and baby boy resembles his mom. He finds that interesting and funny how the twins are literally mini versions of the parents.
Hongjoong, being the fashionista he is, absolutely LOVES dressing up your twins in matching clothes. Everytime he goes shopping with his s/o, he makes sure that every single clothing for both the twins is matching atleast in some way- same pattern, colour, etc.
Takes tons of pics with his kiddos wearing matching clothes. Nearly cries over how adorable his twins look and makes it a mission to make them his little fashionistas & gives them a sense of clothes & their pairings at an early age. Patting their heads in an endearing way is something that is so natural to him.
Expect him to buy matching tees with his s/o too, and sometimes even buy the same printed tee for all four members in the fam, and hang a family photo with the same in your living room. He's blessed to have such a perfect family ^^
Seonghwa- girl dad .ᐟ
See, i always had this vision of hwa being the sweetest girl dad...like, i can definitely imagine him being on cloud nine when he learns that him and his s/o were going to be parents to a baby girl. Literally is more excited and worried about the birth of their baby girl more than his s/o itself. CHEEK!KISSES!TO!HIS!DAUGHTER!ARE!A!MUST!
He's the gentlest and most patient dad ever. he would let her do whatever she wants, would let her do makeup on him and apply nail polish to his nails in the messiest way, while his s/o couldn't stop laughing on how funny hwa looked and high-fived her daughter for making her dad look like a clown. Hwa would be laughing himself, saying that your daughter wouldn't be a small child forever and that he wants her to have a playful and memorable childhood.
When his daughter grows up, she would literally feel like she has two moms. NO SERIOUSLY. hwa acts like a mom more than his s/o itself. literally taught his daughter about cleaning and its importance since she was a mere toddler, was more stressed about her growing up and puberty problems more than the daughter itself.
My conclusion is that hwa would be such a perfect girl dad >< A dad with the traits of both mom and dad. His daughter turns out to be a carbon copy of her dad, no kidding
Yunho- boy dad .ᐟ
GUYS. just hear me out. Yunho's s/o would literally feel like having two Yunho's around in the house after their son is born. One is Yunho itself and another one is baby yuyu aka mini yunho. Yunho literally has heart eyes for his son :(
What Yunho finds the most adorable is when his son tries to copy every single thing Yunho does. When he notices that his son tries to copy every little thing he does, he realizes that he needs to set up a good example for his son, and takes it as a opportunity to teach him basic hygiene and good manners slowly. He's quite successful at that task and his s/o would be impressed and happy that Yunho is doing a great job at parenting.
The most playful dad ever. He encourages his son to indulge in outdoor activities and play sports since a young age, so that his son turns out to be a fit and happy kid.
His s/o notices how their son turned out to be a little ray of sunshine in their lives, just like Yunho himself. Yunho raised his son to be a bright, cheerful kid and his s/o taught him to be patient and caring. Don't be surprised to see him quietly crying in the corner whenever his son does something to make him proud. Actually, anything thay his son does makes him proud :)
Yeosang- girl dad .ᐟ
I would say that its the end of discussion, atleast for me that yeo is a girl dad 😭 he just radiates such girl dad energy its insane- i feel like he'd be quite similar to how hwa is as a girl dad. He'd be just as patient and caring and sweet as him. He never fails to take care of both his s/o and their daughter after she was born. He feels like both their responsibility is now on him, and he never fails to make both of them feel loved and cared for.
Yeosang is the best dad ever. At first, he'd be a little clueless as to how to be a good parent to a baby girl, but as time passed, he feels like all his efforts and hard work paid off when his daughter grows up and calls him "the best daddy ever". Happiest dad to a lovely baby girl.
I can't miss out on the fact about how yeo would love to show off his daughter's skills and achievements ever since she was a little baby to everyone, including his & your parents and his members. He'd be like "That's my baby girl everyone, look at how talented she is."
Forehead kisses while saying good night are a must. Although he isn't someone who initiates physical affection, he loves to do small things such as holding his daughter's hand, patting her head & giving her forehead and cheek kisses whenever he can.
He loves to style his daughter's hair into plaits or something mildly fancy. He loves such quiet moments where he can take care of his daughter and cherishes every moment where spends time with her :(
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sports-on-sundays · 2 months
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and I can change / CL16 / Part 2
Summary: dad!Charles x French!ex!reader - Charles would do anything to convince you to forgive him. He'd do anything to revive his family.
Warnings: Again, Y/s/n is 'your son's name'. And again, his age is unspecified- you decide what you think. crying (LOTS of crying), mention of drunkenness, mention of sex, mention of cheating, broken relationships, broken family, censored cussing
Requested?: Yeah! Requested by some sweet souls who read part 1! @barcelonaloverf1life @architect-2015 @emz2092 @cilliansgirl @lunamelona @lightdragonrayne @leclercgirl16
Author's Note: You guys asked for it, so I gave it! I hope you enjoy! Same song as inspiration. Also I'm thinking after this part I'll write a part 3, and then after that maybe a little epilogue, to wrap this up. Tell me what you think. Also, this is the link to part 1 / and the link to part 3
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"Y/n, people change.
"And I can change, too."
You lay on your bed, engulfed in the darkness of the room surrounding you. The darkness seems to go deeper than just your surroundings- deeper, and into you.
Over and over the scene plays through your mind. Those words that Charles had uttered. The way he had clutched your hand in both of his, as if it were his only lifeline. In that moment, the desperation his eyes had denoted was incredible.
Charles, why? Why couldn't you let go? You're making it all so much more complicated.
But you know what he would say. Why? Why, Y/n? Because this isn't just about myself. Don't you see the brokenness in our son? Don't you see it?
Guilt washes over you, and then rage.
I shouldn't be the one feeling guilt. He should. He's the one who messed up our family. He's the one who's fault it is!
The way he cried, though.
The desperation.
The thing is that he is feeling guilty. Or at least so it seemed.
But does he really deserve a second chance? Do you?
Your phone rings at 12:00 A.M. On the dot. Charles has always been on the dot. Unless he's drunk, that is.
Why is he calling?
Right when I'm thinking about him, too.
Although this really isn't too surprising, when you consider it. For the past week and a half or so, you've stayed up until roughly 2:00 in the morning, staring at the ceiling, thinking, unable to convince yourself into peace and slumber.
And now a call comes.
Charles, why?
It feels terrible as you answer. "Charles. Don't call me."
"Y/n," he says in a calm voice. "I'm sorry."
"For what?" you snap, trying to keep it down. Your son is sleeping (hopefully) in the next room.
"For reacting so emotionally. I'm sorry. For years this has weighed on me, but crying and begging won't get us anywhere."
"We're not going anywhere, whether you cry and beg or not." You hang up.
A month after that call where you rejected Charles for what you hoped would be the last time, there's a knock on the door on a Saturday. You walk to it, and freeze when you look through the peephole.
Why is Charles Leclerc here?
Anxiety hits you. The house is a mess, you've got no food to give him, you look like a mess in your pajamas and unbrushed hair-
How can he just show up at your door like this?
It's obnoxious.
You honestly are about to pretend you aren't home, but then Y/s/n suddenly runs in, squealing, "Mama, who is it?! Is it the mailman?"
You sigh at your son's strange fascination for the mailman. You're not completely sure why he enjoys the young, dry, monotone mailman, and for years just assumed because he was generally a nice bloke, and little kids are weird, until you realized with an ounce of dread that the mailman resembles Charles, in a way. After that, you've never encouraged his enthusiasm for the mailman, just in case that was the reason, whether conscious or not.
"No, no," you sigh, unlocking the door. "It's not the mailman, love."
"Who is it, Mama?"
As you swing the door open, you murmur, "Well, love, none other but your father."
"Daddy!" the little boy, still in his Lightning McQueen pajamas, squeals, running to hug his father. You glance away, staring at the floor.
Charles hugs your son, kissing him, and exclaims, "Aw, there's my little buddy! How are you, man?"
"I'm good, Daddy! Are you coming to live here now, Daddy?!"
"Ugh- Not quite..." He picks up your son, and looks to you, immediately saying, "Sorry it's such short notice."
You grit your teeth, murmuring, "You mean no notice?"
"Right," he nods with a quick exhale.
While the presence of your son is a burden for you, preventing you from showing your true feelings, it may be an advantage for Charles, to get across what he needs to get across. Whatever that may be.
Because this is all just a game. Everyone with their own different motives. Y/s/n wants Mama and Daddy to love each other because he wants one place to live. Charles' motives are unknown, but probably are just manipulative and selfish- about making himself feel better. And your motive? You don't want to relive the past, so will avoid Charles at all costs.
Charles' and Y/s/n's motives align more with each other than your's.
You look at your son. Who you love so much. He looks at you with hope. Charles looks at you with... a very similar expression.
These two.
How can you love one and hate the other?
They're both family, as much as you hate to admit it. Because one of them, you wish you could erase.
No. But you don't. Because if you'd never met Charles, Y/s/n would never have been born. And you can't even begin to imagine your life without him.
You hold the door open, and gesture to the couch. "Sit down, Charles. I'm going to get dressed, and then put the kettle on." You say all this through gritted teeth.
How can he just walk in as if he owns the place?
He nods. "Thank you, Y/n." You watch in the doorway to the hall as Charles sits down on the couch with his son on his lap. You watch as he says softly, picking up a toy car from off the rug, "This car is awesome, Y/s/n. Where'd you get it?"
"Mama got it for me! For my birthday!" Y/s/n takes it from his father's hand with much pride, and starts driving it across Charles' chest, up onto his neck, and eventually onto his cheeks. The whole time, Charles laughs, his hand on his son's back to keep him from tipping off his lap.
"That's a super cool car. Does it have a name?"
"Uhhh," Y/s/n frowns. "Zoom! Because he goes zooooom!"
"Oh, it's a he?"
"Of course," Y/s/n says, as if this fact should be obvious. Then he giggles, "Because girls smell."
"They smell?! No way. Girls don't smell."
"Yeah, they do," he crosses his arms, frowning at his father. "You don't know any girls. You only know... Uh, Cah-los."
Charles laughs out loud. "The only person I know is 'Cah-los'?"
"Yep! And Uncle Arthur and Uncle Lorenzo, but that's it!" your son claims in a very matter-of-fact tone.
Their conversation continues, but you finally turn to leave and get yourself fixed up. You quickly shower, brush your teeth and hair, put on moisturizing cream, perfume, and deodorant, and put on a beige hoodie, grey sweatpants, and slides, before going to make tea. The whole time, you mind swirls.
Why is he here? Why is he here on a Saturday? Why is he here, without even asking to come? It's so... obnoxious.
You finish making two cups of tea, finding with awe as you make them that you remember exactly the way Charles likes his tea, and you're doing it automatically.
Because I used to do this so much.
You walk back in with the tea and see the two boys sitting on the rug now. Charles is tickling Y/s/n's tummy, and both of them are laughing- Charles with more of a chuckle and Y/s/n with more of a squealing giggle. When Charles sees you, he slowly stops, saying with a little sigh, "Alright, bud. Mama's back with my tea, and I mean to drink it."
"But Daddyyy!"
"Nope!" he grins, standing up, ruffling his son's messy hair. He then walks to you, and you hand him his tea. He lights up when he tastes the tea and looks at you, muttering softly, "My God, you remembered how I like my tea...?"
"Don't jump to sh*t, Charles," you murmur, soft enough for Y/s/n not to hear.
"Right," he sighs, sitting down again on the couch.
You set your tea down, walking to your son. "Alright, love. I want you to go in your room now, okay? Remember the Lego plane you were building? Why don't you work on that? I want to see it once it's finished, okay? And if you need anything, call, okay? Don't come in here. Just call, and one of us will come."
He looks questioningly. "Why, Mama?"
"Me and your father have important things to talk about. And if you don't listen, there will be consequences."
He blinks, pouting.
"I'll turn on your storybook audio for you. Come on." You bring him to his room and get him set up, until you're sure he's completely distracted with the Legos and the storybook. Only then do you come back to the living room and sit down awkwardly next to Charles.
He's still wearing his red windbreaker from when he was outside, and a black scarf hangs loose around his neck. His hair is a bit messed up, but he looks perfect, like always.
Too perfect.
"Let me take your scarf and jacket. And your shoes."
"Right," he says with a swift nod, handing you his scarf, coat, and sleek black boots. You put them by the door, and sit down, viewing the cozy grey sweater adorning his frame. You have a passing thought, considering how much unnecessary money he might have spent on such a garment.
"So?" you ask in a tense voice. "What is this all about, Charles?"
"There are some things we need to work out. You're right- one of the many things I've done wrong to you is always being a f*cking coward. You're right. I didn't say what was on my mind, and I faked it, and I kept quiet, because I didn't want to upset you. But now I see that the only thing I can do now is speak up, be honest, and be a man. You rightfully left me because I wasn't being a proper man. I wasn't being your proper man. I was being a terrible husband and a terrible father. But now we need to uncover what's true- we both have different views, both of which are likely exaggerated or incorrect in different ways."
"I don't care, Charles," you say quickly, flat out trying to ignore his admittance to wrong. Perhaps because you don't want it to be true. Because if he's sorry, that means you have to forgive him.
"So you're telling me you'd rather believe lies, just because it makes you feel better? What kind of thinking is that?"
You hate to admit that he's right. So you say nothing.
There's silence. But then he says, "So tell me what happened."
"You know what happen-"
"Tell me, Y/n." His voice isn't rude, but definitely firm.
You swallow, shaking your head. You don't want to work this out. You want to forget Charles. But clearly, that's impossible. "You were irresponsible. You'd get drunk, never be home, never help me. I'd be all on my own... You... You'd use me for your own pleasure but never show true, selfless love... Then you came home drunk saying stuff about a pretty woman and sex and getting pregnant... So you cheated... And I divorced you because I couldn't take it any more." You can't believe it, but you're trying not to choke up as you whisper, "Charles, what we had seemed perfect. Until you messed it up." Your mouth tastes like poison.
Charles stares down, his eyes swirling with everything but empty, at the same time. "Y/n," he whispers. "I was terrible. You're right. I was never around because I was immature and scared. I didn't understand. To get away from it, I drank and had fun with friends."
Your lip curls. "You're not the victim."
"And I never said I was! I was scared of being a father. I was scared of messing up. I wasn't ready and I let everything happen too quickly. I was a coward and I left you. Even though you divorced me, I was the one who left you. That's what happened. I was stupid. I was a terrible person. It's all my fault."
"Why would you be any different now? There's no way for you to prove that. Before the marriage you were fine. It was when we married that you went downhill. It was like... you couldn't stand me."
He looks torn apart. "I loved you. I... I... I still do. I knew I wasn't being a good husband or father and to forget about it, I drank."
"And why wouldn't you still do it now?!"
"Because I don't. I feel more guilt now than I did then! I feel more responsibility now than I did then! And that was my greatest fear! Responsibility! But now I don't drink excessively! Now I don't avoid reality! Because I need you... Our son needs us. Together. Don't you need me?"
"Not the you I know."
"You don't know me anymore. I'm not the same person I was." His voice is so uncommonly firm, it slightly shocks you.
You stare into each other's eyes.
He goes on, "That night, I didn't cheat. I was intoxicated. A young woman was trying to seduce me, but I refused because I had you. You, my beautiful wife, both inside and out. I wanted to convey to you that I said no because you were my wife. However, I failed to communicate this properly, and the next morning, I had completely forgotten the conversation. I chose not to tell you because I thought it would be better if you didn't know. I was afraid you would be angrier with me for being in that situation. I was a coward, and I didn't want you to be upset with me. I didn't realize for years that you believed I had cheated. If I had known, I would have assured you that I didn't cheat, just like I am doing now, and that I never would. Because I didn't. Despite all the mistakes I made, cheating on you is something I would never, ever do. I have always loved you, and only you, far too much for that."
Your hands tremble in your lap as you stare at him, listening.
Now you're the one getting emotional.
Charles leans in close to you- too close for comfort- and whispers, "I've changed... Please. I just want a second chance... To right my wrongs and give you and our son the lives you deserve. I need to give my all to you... I need to make it up to you... It's... It's crushing me."
"Why do you need a second chance?" Your voice, for once, isn't aggressive. It's gentle. Softer. Your voice cracks as you say, "You should have done it right the first time."
You see him swallow. "And you know what? I didn't. I f*cked up. I f*cked up everything. I f*cked up your life and I know it. I'm sorry. I wish I could go back in time and fix it and make it all better. I was stupid, Y/n. I was terrible. I hurt the most beautiful woman and her baby in the world. I'm the least." He takes your hand again in both his, but this time it's a gentler grasp.
"But you're not. You're famous. You have so many fans."
"Do you know how many times I've thought I don't deserve all this? If only I could share it all with you."
"Charles," your voice cracks again, and an unexpected, terrible longing fills you. "I want to believe you, but I can't. I'm broken, Charles, because of you. I can't afford to let you break me again..."
A tear rolls down your cheeks, and immediately he reaches up with his thumb, gently wiping your cheek, "No, Y/n, please don't cry... I don't want you to cry because of me any longer... Please..."
"Charles, I can't do this..." more tears fall.
There's hurt and confusion, but mostly longing and guilt in his eyes. "Please... If you'd only trust me, then we could make this right. I could make this right, after all I did wrong."
You can hardly believe yourself as you let your broken, silently crying self fall into Charles. You allow yourself to rest your head on his shoulder, and you allow his arms to wrap around you, giving you his warmth. "Charles..."
"Yes...?" There's a painful hope in his voice.
"I don't know if I can do this..." you cry into his shoulder now.
He whispers right in your ear, "Just give me a chance. Let me be there for you... Let me prove to you... Let me..."
You can't give him a yes or a no. Two sides war inside you- the mask and the face. You feel him stroke your hair as you cry, at the same time as remembering stroking his hair when he was drunk and needed comfort.
This is some sort of paradox, isn't it?
"Charles," you murmur, leaning away after you've gained control of yourself. "The answer is 'I don't know' right now, okay... Consider it... better than hating your guts with an adamant 'no.'"
As he gazes into your eyes, he leans closer. Softly, he places a tender kiss on your cheek and whispers, "I'll be ready whenever you are. And I'll never, ever stop waiting for you."
Weeks pass, and Charles can't understand why, after all that happened that day, still you insist on avoiding him like the plague.
Well, the reason is just that- avoidance. You're avoiding Charles because you don't want to face the possible truth. You're avoiding him because you don't want to make big decisions. You don't want to try again. You don't want to...
Well, you don't want to fall in love again.
And on that day, the way he treated you...
It reminded you of the man you married, and not the man you divorced.
And that scares you. Because you'll never forget the man you divorced.
So you're stubborn and resistent, and you're avoiding him.
So you sit, staring at the screen of your cell phone. Rereading the text on it. Over and over.
Charles Leclerc: I'm sorry for such a long text Y/n but you probably won't read it anyway, so what does it matter? I need to talk with you and you're doing exactly what I've done, what I'm apologizing for. For years I avoided this stuff and one of the reasons we split was that i couldn't stand up and address and tell you my problems. I was being a f*cking coward. And I've said sorry more times than I can count. I thought you might be on the road to forgiveness, to giving me a second chance. I know you felt the same way as me when you leaned into me and let me hold you when you cried- there's something more here, and I don't want you to ignore this. Can't we just try this? Please Y/n? I'm finally willing to step up, be a man, work through all this sh*t with you. Talk about it. I'm finally willing to be brave, and as soon as I am, you're doing the same thing you've yelled at me for years for doing- staying silent.
Charles Leclerc: I love you, Y/n, and this is a problem I desperately want to fix, but the truth of the matter is that you're being a f*cking hypocrite.
Me: How does it feel to be in the position you put me in for years?
You feel mean for typing that, and you're not sure how much you mean it. Maybe you meant to be kinder.
But the anger took over and your thumbs did the talking.
Charles leaves that message on read.
You sit in the cold metal chair, surrounded by pudgy, middle-aged parents and their gross kids all around you as a lone young mother sitting by herself. You're only here to see your son, and none of the other aspects of this situation bring you an ounce of joy.
All of a sudden, a shiver runs down your spine as a firm hand gently lands on your shoulder. Your head snaps up, meeting the gaze of Charles Leclerc. A look of disdain crosses your face, causing your heart to ache as you bluntly ask, "Why are you here?"
Charles takes a seat beside you in the vacant chair and casually remarks, "I've come to attend my son's school concert. And you?" A glimmer of amusement dances in his eyes.
Your jaw tightens in pure irritation, and you manage through gritted teeth in a tense, quiet tone, "Why did you choose to sit next to me?"
Charles hesitates, his expression softening, as he makes an effort to hold your gaze. "Well... Because I..." He swallows and says, "I'm not going to give up on you. That's why. So I figured I'd sit down next to you to watch my- our- son's concert. So..." Abruptly, he reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. The veins in his hand are visible as he clasps yours tightly.
Your muscles tense, yet for some reason, you don't pull your hand away.
So throughout the whole school concert, Charles sits, gripping your hand, and seems to refuse to let it go.
And the moment the teacher is done on stage after the little production, thanking people for helping and the kids for doing such a great job and other stuff you don't listen to, Charles turns to you and says, "So, we have some minutes to spare."
Your eyebrows scrunch together. "Come again?"
He chuckles, but it doesn't feel called for. "You weren't listening to her? She said the students can be picked up from their classrooms by their parents in fifteen minutes."
Your jaw clenches again. "Charles, why?"
"Because I know you want it," he says incredibly earnestly. The inside of your heart melts as the outside hardens.
"But I don't think I do."
"But I know you do. Now come on." Your ex-husband stand up, pulling you up with him.
"Where are we going?" you ask. "And please let go of my hand. You've been holding it so long, it's starting to get sweaty."
He clicks his tongue and doesn't respond to either of these, then guides you down various hallways until you reach the school's exit. Finally, he sits down with you on a bench outside the school, and releases your hand.
"What are you doing?"
"Let's just hang out here for the next ten minutes, okay? We should talk," he says awkwardly, facing you.
"I don't get it. Charles, there's nothing you can do to-"
Charles interrupts, holding your face gently, gazing into your eyes. "Please, don't. Don't say that," he pleads, his thumb brushing your cheek. "There's something we can do. We can make this work... Please..."
His desperation, his begging, makes you want to cry. "Please just let it go... Let me go..."
"No, I don't want you to be trapped... Don't you see you'll be more free with me? You won't have to work as hard.. I'll take care of you and our son... I'll take half the work in the house you have to deal with... I'll... We'll... I just want you to believe that we'll be happier... I'm not saying we need to jump to anything today. I'm just saying, let's be kind to each other... Let's go out to eat sometimes, or go to our son's events together. Let's act just a little bit more like a family, even if we aren't yet. I just want to- I need to- I- I- I..." He trails off. His hands fall off your cheeks, and his shoulders slack. His head goes down.
It's like just the hard look in your eyes alone crushed him.
Like that alone is the huge weight he's bearing.
"F*** me, Y/n... F*** me," he whispers, his hands in his lap trembling. "I don't deserve you. I hurt you. Doesn't matter how much I changed. I still have to live through the consequences of my actions, don't I?" He seems to be talking more to himself, but you have no idea at this point. "Just f*** me." He exhales shakily, before suddenly standing up. He stares you right in your eyes, and your heart breaks when you see the hurt, the destroyed desperation. "It's fine, Y/n." He's trying to keep a level face. But his voice cracks. "I'll leave you alone. I'll let you go. I can see all this is just hurting you more. I never meant to hurt you more. I never meant to bring up the past to hurt you. I wanted to help you... I wanted to help you heal..." He drags a hand over his face. "But clearly I f***ing didn't. Clearly I messed it up again. I f***ing messed up again." He swallows. His eyes glimmer with wetness as he practically whispers, "The last thing I want is to hurt you. So I'll drop it. I'm just being selfish again, aren't I? I think this would be better, but you don't. And that's hurting you. And I never wanted to..." He swallows, his nose crunching up. Suddenly he yells, "I never wanted to hurt you ever again, because I love you, for f***'s sake! I love you, but I did hurt you, because, in the end, no matter what, I'm going to f*** it up anyway! So bye, Y/n!" Suddenly he turns on his feet. Like he doesn't want you to see him cry again. But you can hear the tears in his voice when the last thing he calls back is, "It will go back to normal, and we can pretend none of this ever happened! Pretend I'm a stranger! It's the best for you, anyway, apparently, and all I wanted was the best for you!"
You stare in shock as you watch him get in his car and drive away. You remain seated, gaze straight ahead. Tears well up in your eyes, and your body quivers, yet you manage to compose yourself, rise on unsteady legs, and compel yourself to return to the school to pick up your son.
But that just wasn't right.
I should have stopped him. I should have called him back. I should've.
How far can revenge go before it's gone too far?
For days, the guilt, the hurt, the rue- they weigh on you. Every moment of your days, it consumes your thoughts. Regret and confusion and anger fill you in every step, engulfing your every move. And if you thought you weren't getting any sleep before, now it's even worse.
You long to fix it, but you are unsure of how. Despite everything... You can't see how Charles isn't being honest. You want to have faith in him. A small part of you may even want to love him, just a little bit.
You're also fearful. Fearful of reaching out to him, because you don't know what you'd do. You have no idea.
But now you're dropping your son off at Charles's house. You swallow, and suddenly, on a whim, when you see Charles walking outside, waiting for Y/s/n, you get out of the car, too.
"Mama?" your son asks with a confused expression, still maintaining a little smile on his face.
You smile back down at him and say, "I'm walking you up to your daddy's house today, is all."
He shrug and nods, apparently accepting this.
He's such a good kid.
As you approach Charles, your smile twitches while you study him, but you say softly, "Hey, um... I... We..." Your tone sounds weak.
"Yes?" Charles asks, looking up. He looks perfect. As always.
Your eyes lock.
Please, Charles. I don't know how to say this. Please just understand.
His eyes remain blank. You let out a sigh.
And suddenly, you hug him.
Charles seems taken aback for only a moment, before he immediately hugs you back and says softly, "Hey... Want to come inside with me and Y/s/n?"
You nod. "Yes... Yes, please."
So Charles leads the two of you up to his flat. You sit down together on the couch, once again.
Last time you did this was the moment Charles cried out to you.
"Y/n, people change."
You swallow at the memory.
Is this another paradox? This time, will I be the one crying out to him?
Y/s/n is about to hop on the couch between you, but suddenly Charles scoops him up and says, "Hey, hey! I didn't get my hug from you yet, did I?!"
Your son giggles, getting comfortable on his father's lap, before giving him a big hug. "I scored a goal, Daddy..."
"You scored a goal?!" he grins. "Seriously?"
"Yeah! Mama cheered me on! I scored a goal when I played football!"
Charles looks so bright. Happy with his son. So proud. He doesn't get to see him as often as you do. "No way. You've got to be joking. Was it the winning goal?"
"Yep!" your son says proudly.
You find yourself smiling.
"Oh yeah, what was the score?"
Your son shrugs. "Dunno! But we won!"
You smile and mutter softly, "I think it was 4-1." Y/s/n plays in the little league team affiliated with his school.
"Yeah, but my goal made it 2-1, so I won it," he brags to his father.
Charles grins. "Oh, I'm sure it did. You know, I don't know where you got that talent for football from. Do you think Mama is good at football?"
Your son just shrugs with a grin, enjoying the affirmation from his father. "Dunno! But Mama is good at cuddling and playing with me."
Charles laughs. "Yeah, your mama takes good care of you." He glances at you with sparkling eyes, before looking back down at his son.
The two continue babbling on about sports and football and what not, until Charles finally ruffles his son's hair and says, "Well, buddy, I reckon it's time for me and Mama to have some alone time."
Y/s/n frowns. "Aw, why?"
"Because I want to talk with Mama about things that you won't care about. Boring grown-up stuff. Doesn't sound very fun, does it?"
Y/s/n shrugs, still looking uncertain.
"Hey, don't look so down. How about this? I'll go put on Cars for you. How's that sound?"
Your son grins at this, immediately jumping up, his demeanor changing abruptly. "Yeah, yeah!" he squeals, and you watch as Charles leaves with him to go set him up with that in another room.
But soon Charles is back. He gently shuts the door behind him as he enters the room, and immediately sits down next to you, facing you once more. "Hey, Y/n..." he says in a tentative but gentle tone.
You swallow. "Hey, Charles..." You feel yourself getting nervous again. "You're so... You're so good with Y/s/n."
He smiles. "You are, too."
There's no, And I'm sure we'd be even better with him together.
Charles meant it when he said he'd give up on it.
But you move closer to him. You take his hands. "This is a lot for me, Charles. I'm scared. I'm having issues with trust."
He nods slowly. "I know... I know..."
You swallow, and hug him again.
He holds you, hugging you back. He kisses your cheek. He whispers, "I understand if you're afraid. I understand if you're scared, or if you're having issues with trust. I'm so deeply sorry I've broken you like that."
Y/n, people change. And I can change.
The words come crashing into your mind like a ton of bricks, emerging from the depths of your memory.
"Charles-" you break in, your voice cracking. "Those words have haunted me."
"What words...?" he mutters softly.
You swallow. Breathe slowly. And you whisper, "You said to me 'Y/n, people change. And I can change.'"
"I have changed," he whispers.
"But," your voice cracks. "You said a lot of other s***, too. I remember, during our honeymoon..." A tear rolls down your face as Charles continues to hold you. "You said I'm yours and you're mine. You said we'd be forever. You said you'd do anything for me. You said we'd have three kids together, and you'd never stop loving me, and we would be a happy family. You said we'd grow old together, Charles. That's what you said. But all those promises- they were broken... They were broken."
"You didn't want them to be," he whispers calmly. "But don't you realize? Perhaps those promises were not broken, but rather, they have just not yet been fulfilled."
You look up at him, blinking. More tears roll down your cheeks. Charles gently wipes them away.
"I want to be able to fix what I did wrong. I want to be able to fulfill those promises I made to you. That's what I want, Y/n."
"Charles..." you breathe.
He looks so perfect.
"Yes?" he asks gently.
Your lip quivers, and you lean into his shoulder, and you sob.
And he lets you.
For however long, he holds you there, rubbing your back, letting you weep. Finally, you get a hold of yourself, and slowly pull away. You wipe your wet eyes with the backs of your hands, before sighing. "Charles, if we were to do this... If I were to give in..." You sniff. Your voice cracks again as you utter, "Please, don't hurt me again. I can't survive it again. I can't let you put me through that again..."
He pulls you to him again and whispers in your ear, "I won't. I won't. I won't let you down this time. Please don't be afraid of me... I want to love you... Let me love you... If you'll just let me, we can fix this... We have have a relationship in which we communicate more. Oh, Y/n..." he sighs. "Don't you realize how much I care? I- I would give my life for you."
You blink, staring at him.
Everything looks so promising. That's why you're scared.
It almost looks too promising.
"You say you would give your life for me. But would you really? Maybe you would you give your life for me if it meant losing it. But would you give your life to me while you're still alive? Would you clean the dishes? Would you help me when I'm sick? Would you grab an extra ingredient from the store if I needed it? Would you drive Y/s/n to school when you could? Would you really? You're gone half the year, as it is."
His jaw clenches, then un-clenches. "I would do anything and everything I could do for you. I want to share my life for you. Until death. And I'm one hundred percent sure on that. I've had years of thinking about this." There's hope in his lovely eyes.
So much hope.
You sigh, staring down at your lap.
"Y/n. I'm sorry. Please. Not only do I need your forgiveness. But your son does, too." He hesitates. "And I hope you know no matter what happens, the guilt of what I've done to you will weigh on me my whole life. That's why I want to fix it."
You gently slip your hand in his and whisper, "Please don't hurt me."
He wraps his fingers around your hand, holding it. "I won't."
You nod slowly, another tear rolls down your cheek, and it feels like all the molecules in your body are being ripped apart as you barely whisper, "Okay, Charles. We can try this again."
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heartpascal · 1 year
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can we get more father figure joel? You know when Ellie killed the David, and then Joel comforted her? Maybe that but instead of Ellie it’s the reader, thank you <3
i am good
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▹ joel miller x platonic!f!reader
▹ — summary: joel finally sees the darkness in himself reflected in you.
▹ — a/n: ok first request i hope it’s ok!! i know its kinda similar to the game but erm. its reader and joel this time!! and reader is much much less ok with the whole. murder thing but its ok bc joel is there to fix it &lt;3 yes he is your dad no you don’t get a choice he has decided it
▹ — warnings: allusions to sexual assault (nothing happens but the intention was there), vivid descriptions of murder, reader is misled and attacked, similar to the game with ellie (so kinda spoilers?), joel is ready to kill for you (and does), lots of blood, tears, father figure joel, lots of angst and upset, vomiting
masterlist
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
Getting air into your lungs was proving to be one of the hardest things you’d had to do for a long time, which, considering the journey you’d been on, was shocking. The act of simply breathing should have come easily to you, but it didn’t. It couldn’t. Not as you saw the reflection of your own bloodied face in the knife that was held up, a clear threat polluting the air.
You knew you had probably been lucky to even make it as far as you had — born into a world full of death and chaos and infection, you were bound to meet your gruesome end some day, but you didn’t want to die.
For the first time in a long time, your chest ached for the breath you couldn’t seem to provide, the want, the need to live almost suffocating you on its own. You had someone now, someone who cared whether you survived or not, who felt like you deserved even a glimpse at a happy ending, even if he didn’t like to state those things out loud.
Resentment was growing in your stomach, filling you with the need to be sick. Why did you always have to listen to the words Joel didn’t say, rather than the ones he did say? If you had just listened, conserved your trust for those who actually earned it, you wouldn’t be in this situation.
When your hunting escapades had led you into a small horde of infected, you had just blindly put your faith in the aging couple who came to your aid, not thinking of what they might want for their troubles. You’d never had to escape without Joel’s help before, and you quickly discovered you weren’t all that good at it.
The two of them had dragged you back to their nearby settlement which they shared with a couple dozen others, all whilst you were kicking and screaming, trying to get away, your resolve fading each time they hit you to near unconsciousness. When they passed by a young man stood beside an older lady, you had called out to them, “Please, help me, please.”
“Gotta get something in return for the gear we wasted saving her ass,” the man had snickered to the two of them as glanced at the couple, just nodding at his words before turning back to their conversation.
You’d been knocked out when they approached a large community house, just getting a glimpse of the carpeted floor before the woman had struck her gun against the side of your head.
You had woken up in the middle of a chilled room, your arms straining with effort as you pushed yourself to sit up, seeing the woman holding a knife towards you. You couldn’t be sure how long it had been since they’d taken you, not with the way your stomach clenched with pain. The whole reason you’d been out there was to solve that, but you were sure that it had gotten worse.
“Listen, please,” your scratchy voice came out, much quieter than you had meant for it to be, “I—I can get you replacements for everything you used, but you gotta let me go.”
“We don’t gotta do anything, girl.” The lady snickered, as if even you saying such a thing was amusing. It made you feel small, powerless.
She got up, hearing her name being called, Cheryl, you noted, and sneered at you. Her skin was dull, and she looked vaguely ill, but that didn’t change anything about her threatening demeanour. At least one thing you’d taken from travelling with Joel was never underestimate your opponent, no matter how small, or ill, or kind they may appear to be.
Her hand grazed your face as she strode past, “Yeah,” she said quietly, like she was complimenting you, “You’ll do nicely. We’ll both enjoy you.”
You managed to avoid throwing up until she left the room, hearing a lock click into place. All that came up was bile, the clench of your stomach just becoming sharper afterwards. Your muscles felt weak, likely beginning to waste away with you having been inactive for a little while and injured, less energy wasted on muscle cells and more going into fighting off the infections that were likely trying to poison your blood.
Scanning the room, like Joel would’ve advised you to, you found nothing of much use to you. An old rickety chair, perhaps, but that would only help you if you could lift it, and you weren’t convinced you had the strength left within you, but you’d be damned if you didn’t at least try.
Something deep in your chest nagged at you, the longing for Joel, probably. He had saved you on countless occasions, and you could only hope that it had been long enough that he had finally gotten worried. It seemed likely, he really did worry a lot for a man who wasn’t meant to care, but then there was the factor of him finding you, managing to take down all the people in the settlement that might fight to protect each other and—
You took a deep breath, finally feeling your lungs expand and take in some oxygen, and pulled yourself from the ground, keeping the bile that threatened to rise down as the nausea hit you.
The chair was lighter than you expected it to be, the insides of the wooden frame likely rotten away, and you managed to pull it towards the door, waiting beside it with shallow breaths. When the lock finally began to click open, you raised the lightweight chair as high as you could, and smacked it down against the person who entered the room. Splinters flew from it as it impacted, and you heard the clatter of metal as a tray they carried hit the ground with them.
Food, maybe, to keep you alive for… whatever it was that they had planned for you, you reasoned, but didn’t look to check. Instead, you grabbed a mostly-intact leg of the chair that caused splinters to dig into your palm, and stepped over the body of the man who had taken you, exiting quickly.
Footsteps hurried you, and you ducked behind a booth as they approached the room you were being kept in. There were lanterns lit all around the room, giving it a warm look that greatly contrasted the cold air and feel it had.
“Shit!” Cheryl cursed, and you saw her bend down to check on the man from over the top of your booth. A radio crackled though the air, before, “Lewis is down, the girl’s out. Anybody got eyes?”
Your fingers shook and you gripped on to the booth to stop them, hearing the distorted reply of whoever was on the other end of the radio, “She ain’t got out, yet, she’s gotta be in there with you. You need backup?”
“No,” Cheryl replied, her cold voice sending shivers down your back, “I’ve got her.”
The drag of Lewis’ clothes against the floor made you peak your head up, seeing her drag him into the room, before she exited and locked him inside. You ducked back down, heart hammering. You couldn’t escape from them in an open forest — how would you get out of a locked down building?
“Come on out, kid. It’s okay, you just gotta start behaving yourself.” She called, her slow footsteps failing to mask the sound of her unsheathing her knife. It wasn’t okay, it was very far from okay, you would argue, and you could feel that crushing fear of death pushing down on your shoulders, your chest constricting once again.
You tried to reassure yourself — you had faced countless amounts of infected and come out on the other side, what was one woman with very bad intentions? But it didn’t make you feel better, not when it was another human, who could feel exactly what you felt.
Her footsteps approached, and you leaped from where you were in the booth, trying to run as far away from her as fast as you could, but she caught up to you with surprising ease, your muscles clearly weaker than initially thought, and she grasped the back of your shirt, pulling you to a stop as you fell to the ground.
“Get the fuck off of me!” You cried out as she knelt down, one knee beside you and another pressing against your stomach, knife approaching your throat as soon as she settled you firmly against the carpet. It was red.
“You could’ve made this real easy for all of us,” she muttered your name, and you froze, having forgotten the way you’d yelled it out to them in the midst of the battle. “Be a good girl, now.”
You heard gunfire outside, and when her face glanced toward the guarded front door, you twisted underneath her, pushing yourself away to find enough room to kick the knee against the floor out from under her. She fell, her chin hitting the ground with a satisfying crack, and when she cried out, anger overcame you.
“You were gonna hurt me,” You said aloud, almost as if it was a realisation, rather than just fact. Your eyes hardened, gaze going red as you snatched the knife from her weakened grip. She reached out to try and snatch it back, but only got the drops of your blood that fell from the blade as you held onto it, twisting it until you finally held the handle. “Why— why were you going to hurt me?”
Her response didn’t filter through your ears, and the rage at how easily she and Lewis were going to do it pulsed, making your vision go blurry. When she sat up, tumbling forward to take you down again, you swiped her own knife until you felt the drag of something resisting it, and then you pulled harder, feeling something warm gushing down your hand.
Cheryl’s breath stuttered slightly, her hands rising to her chest as she groaned in pain. You looked down to your hands, where they were coated in a red that was darker than the carpet below them, and you were so lost that you didn’t notice her hand coming below yours, hitting it so hard that the knife went flying to the other end of the carpet.
Like a reflex, your fists came down on her face, feeling the shift of bones beneath your knuckles as they shattered upon contact. You didn’t stop, too wrapped up in the fact that you didn’t want to die, that she was going to hurt you, to kill you when she was done, she was going to tear you apart and throw away the pieces, she was going to take away what little humanity had left, she—
Arms pulled you away from the body beneath you, arms much stronger than your own, and you screamed, yelled out with your broken voice, “I’ll kill you, I’ll fucking kill you, get off of me! I’ll kill you!”
The person shushed you, only holding tighter as you thrashed, turning away from Cheryl where she… wasn’t breathing. You stopped, tense muscles in your body going slack and burning as you stared at her, at her body, lifeless and covered in blood.
“Kid, it’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you.” said the person holding you— said Joel. Your hands dropped from where you had scratched his forearm, his arm covered in blood — though whether it was his, or Cheryl’s, or yours, you didn’t know.
He loosened his grip on you, eyebrows creased in concern as your entire body slipped when he moved his arms away, as if you couldn’t even hold yourself up.
“No… she— it wasn’t, I didn’t—” you trailed off, unsure of what to say, the words dead on your tongue, because you didn’t what? Didn't mean to kill her?
Joel followed your blank eyes to the body he’d pulled you from, and he turned your head towards him quickly, eyes hard. “No.” He said, and at your somewhat confused expression, he continued, “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Joel, I—”
“No,” he repeated, and pulled your head towards him, keeping you looking away from Cheryl as a gunshot rang through the room, echoing in your ears so loudly you couldn’t hear Joel at first, as he held up the smoking gun for you to see, “—killed her, see? I killed her.”
“They were going… they wanted to—” You choked on the words, feeling that bile come creeping back up your throat, and you lurched away from Joel as it came out, feeling him pull your hair back from your face.
Something in his eyes settled, however, at the choice of word you’d used — they. So this body wasn’t the only one in here? His question was answered by a bang at a door on the other side, the way your entire body flinched at the sound.
The door splintered, and a battered man came tumbling out, hurrying over to where he could see people crowded. His face went red, and he began to shout, “You fucking bitch—!”
Joel shot one between the eyes, and the man crumpled before he could get anything else out. He turned back to you, to where you were hunched in on yourself. He shoved his gun back in its rightful place, and held your cheeks between his hands, gunpowder residue transferring to your skin.
“Do you hear me?” His muted voice said, and you looked up to his face with a confused shake of your head, “It was you or them, and the only answer is you.”
“But, Joel,” you were interrupted, and he wiped the underneath of your eye of a tear that you hadn’t even known had fallen.
“No. You listen to me, remember?” Joel affirmed, and you nodded, the tears falling more now that you’d acknowledged them, your hands shaking as you tried to look past Joel, but he just pulled your face back to him. “I’ve got you, kid. Keep your eyes on me.”
You turned your face into his neck as you all but threw yourself into his arms, and they wrapped around you like they’d been waiting to do so. You missed his pained expression at the words, and the way heartache burrowed in his chest as he stood the two of you up, his knees clicking.
He swept you up, as if you were the smallest and lightest thing he’d carried in years, and he carried you away, your eyes staying glued to him as the two of you left behind the carnage he’d caused in looking for you.
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wynnyfryd · 15 days
Text
Trailer park Steve AU part 61
part 1 | part 60 | ao3
cw: mentions of canonical minor character death
Chapter 14
It's twilight by the time they make their way to Rick's place — gnat clouds swarming, sun dipped low, Lover's Lake an inky smudge beyond the blur of passing pines. Steve’s not totally sure how they got here, this dusty service road that's more pothole than pavement; one minute he's bitching about doomed love and double VHS, the next he’s taking the scenic route to a drug den.
There were some important moments in between, he’s pretty sure.
He’s also pretty sure he blacked out somewhere around the moment the morning news reported that an-unidentified-Hawkins-student-who-very-well-could-be-Eddie-Munson was found dead in his fucking trailer.
Kinda difficult to resurface from that one.
Feels like his soul’s got swimmer’s ear.
Even hours later — after Dustin and Max burst into Family Video talking a mile a minute about how Eddie was alive and they needed to use the phones; after Ernie stupidly gave a reporter Steve’s name, swearing up and down on the TV that his neighbor Steve Harrington was an upstanding young man who would never do something like this; after they spent an agonizingly long afternoon lying low and taking backroads to avoid the cops because the cops probably suspect Steve of murder now, oh god—
“It’s this next right up ahead,” Max says from the back seat. There's a map spread over the bench between her and Dustin, and Steve blinks himself awake; gives her a nod in the rearview.
Beside her, Dustin’s munching on Twizzlers he stole from the store — window down, easy slouch, just way too chipper for the situation at hand. "So Steve," he says conversationally, "now that you're a fugitive, does that mean—?"
Steve cuts Robin a pleading look.
Robin reaches back and smacks the little twerp upside the head.
"Ow!" Dustin whines.
"Shut up, please," Robin smiles.
Max makes a sound like she's trying not to laugh and checks the map again. "Right here," she says, pointing. "After that weird tree stump."
They turn onto another road that could be generously described as paved, once, several decades ago, and eventually, the winding path lets out onto a slightly nicer street. Aging but cared for, Holland Road is a crowded row of little lake houses, trailers and shacks with manicured shrubs and chipped fence paint, weeds growing through the sidewalks beneath pristine American flags. Steve pulls into the driveway of #2121.
It looks abandoned. Dark inside and out, a truck parked on the curb that's likely been there for a while, its tires sagging in a mulch of old wet leaves. There’s an autumn wreath on the front door.
“You sure this is the place?” he asks as they climb out of the car.
Max sasses him for questioning her navigation skills, Dustin unsuccessfully tries to land a revenge slap on Robin — a move that earns him a retaliation wedgie and a wrestling match he was never gonna win — and Steve pops the trunk and feels a hundred years old. Feels every bit the exhausted dad trying to keep the family road trip together as he grabs his nail bat and slings his duffel over his shoulder.
"You planning to spend the night?" Dustin teases from Robin's armpit, still bent double where she's got him in a headlock.
"No, just-" he drops the bag at their feet with a grunt, “doesn’t hurt to be prepared.”
Dustin’s eyes bug out. “Is that a can of goddamn bear mace?”
“Keep your voice down!” Steve hisses.
“You keep your voice down!”
"Should I just go ahead and choke him out?" Robin offers.
Steve considers it for a second: knock 'em all out, stuff 'em back inside the car. Go do this shit quietly by himself.
He rolls his eyes and puts his hands on his hips.
"You're no fun," she pouts, but she lets Dustin go.
Dustin grabs flashlights and walkies out of the bag, passes them around the circle. They take a moment to steel themselves — huddled together in the dark, shoulders tense, the creepy house looming ahead. Sharp shadows stretch toward them. Croaking sounds creeping from the edges of the lake.
Robin puts her flashlight under her chin like she's about to tell a scary story. "Alright, kiddos," she says in a deep, ominous voice. "Let's go rescue Steve's ex."
Stunned silence in the sudden vacuum her words create. Steve lets out a tired sigh. Dustin’s jaw is on the curb.
“His WHAT?” Dustin shouts.
Oh, my god. “He’s not my ex."
Robin rolls her eyes and says ‘sure’ under her breath, and Max turns to Dustin, laughing. “You didn’t know they were a thing?”
“We’re not—” Steve tries again.
“What were you trying to get them back together for then?”
She seems genuinely curious. Dustin seems three seconds from spontaneous combustion. “What was I WHAT?!” he yelps, limbs everywhere. Reminds Steve of Eddie so bad it hurts.
“Okay,” Steve interrupts, clapping them both on the shoulder; drops his voice to a harsh whisper. “In case you two forgot, we’re here to rescue Eddie.”
“Who you’re dating.”
Dustin’s voice is small, disconnected, his gaze far away. Like he’s shellshocked.
“Jesus Christ.” Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. “I— Yes. No. It’s complicated.”
Max snorts at his answer, Dustin makes a series of faces like he's gonna need seven years to process, and Robin interrupts his crisis by waving her flashlight like a traffic guard, walking backward up the hill as she directs them toward the house.
“Why don’t we just go find him first?” she suggests, making a rainbow with her hands, flinging light through the grimy windows. “And then Stevie here can answer alllll your big gay questions.”
Steve glares at Robin. Dustin glares at him, narrowed eyes for a full ten seconds like 'yeah, you fucking better,' and then he takes off up the driveway hollering Eddie's name.
part 62
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