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gglitch1dd · 3 days

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Us & You Pt4

DILF Kirishima Eijirou x Teacher Reader

Context: Kirishima Eijiro has done everything to forget Bakugou Katsuki in his life and just focus on his daughter, his amazing and loving daughter. The light of his eye. Due to an incident, Eijiro meets you, a teacher at his daughter school who he can’t help but fall for. However, as his daughter grows older and questions start being asked, it feels like the peace he tried to cultivate is slipping through his fingers.

Note: Pretty chilled chapter.

PLEASE NOTE BEFORE READING THIS SHORT SERIES: There will be some deep discussions about morality, children, abortion arguments pertaining to Pro life vs Pro choice as well as the father’s role in raising a child/conceiving a child. It also deals with the struggles of being a single parent. It’s very messy and very much real life. Katsuki is Trans in this story (mostly cause I couldn’t find another character to be Sachiko’s mom and you’ll see why).

[PART 2] [AO3 Link] [PART 3]

The charity derby was in full swing with people wearing brands so expensive that you didn’t know the names of, crowded around you, sipping on fancy bubbly drinks walking around in the sun before the derby would take place. You stayed glued to Eijiro’s side as he led you and Sachiko forward. This was a very important day for you and you tried not to get too nervous at the realisation of that.

Today was not only the day that Eijiro would be out with you with people he knew closely outside of work, but also the day you would meet his family. You found that rather nerve wrecking. Sachiko had told you about how nice her family was and how they were all basically like each other so if you met Sachiko and Eijiro, you’d get along with everyone. However, you weren’t entirely sure if that was true considering she was their family.

You tried your best to stay calm. You kept a smile on your face as you held onto Eijiro’s arm, wearing an outfit that he had bought you for the occasion (along with several others which you found unnecessary but he was rather insistent of having an excuse to spoil you).

“Daddy, daddy, daddy look!” Sachiko pointed to one of the large deep mahogany horses that were being led on the other side of the fence by a worker. “It’s a thoroughbred horse! Look at how strong he is.” She pointed over at the horse. “Can we bet on that one!”

Eijiro chuckled. “We’ll take a look at all the horses participating and see. What if Thunder is participating?”

Sachiko gasped before turning to you with bright eyes. “Thunder is a horse Daddy and I have been betting on for the past two years now!” She informed you. “He’s really good. I like him.”

You smiled. “Well we better go check if he’s participating today. You think he can still make it?”

She nodded her head raising her head. “I think so. He’s a strong one, but not as strong as my Clyde.” She stated proudly.

You looked to Eijiro with a confused look and a raised eyebrow. “Clyde is her horse. Ironically, he’s a Clydesdale. My father bought him for her.”

“And he’s the best boy ever!” Sachiko exclaimed as she looked around. “Hey, Daddy…” Sachiko furrowed her eyebrows as she swivelled her head left and right. “Where’s Baba?”

“Right behind you, sweetheart.”

Sachiko turned around and she lit up like a Christmas tree. “BABA!” She let out an excited squeal and raced into the arms of a large man. He let out a loud boisterous laugh as he pick up Sachi effortlessly and threw her up into the air. He caught her in his arms and kissed her face, keeping her giggling.

Your eyes widened in shock at the man in front of you. Standing there was a man who was the splitting image of your boyfriend. Albeit he looked older, with crows feet at his eyes showing how much he laughed and grey strands at the side of his head mixing in with deep black that made him look even more handsome. He looked just like your Eijiro. Just older.

He held up Sachiko with one arm like it was nothing as he looked up at her with a broad smile. “There’s my girl.” He said, adoringly as he stared up at her as if she was an actual angel. “How are you, my little star?”

Sachiko smiled. “I’m good, Baba.” She turned to look down to a shorter woman at the man’s side. “Morning, grandma!”

The older looking woman let out a soft chuckle. She had deep red hair that had strands of grey in it as well. She had the warmest pair of golden hazel eyes you had ever seen, with a gentle loving smile on her face. She was dressed chic too, in a pretty dress. She reached up and put a hand to Sachiko’s face. “Morning, Sachi.”

“I missed you, two so much!”

“I missed you too.” He assured her. “Blame your father, he’s always trying to hoard you away from me.”

That made Eijiro pause with an offended look on his face, which made you giggle. Before he could speak on that fact, Sachiko spoke instead. “Baba,” She then looked to you. “This is Ms Y/N. She’s daddy’s girlfriend.” She claimed boldly with a proud smile almost as if she was the one who orchestrated this whole debacle.

Eyes went to you, the couple assessing you for a moment once their granddaughter had pointed you out. You glanced at Eijiro. He gave you a supportive smile, giving your hand a comforting squeeze. You turned back to the two of them. You gave them a smile and bowed in front of them respectfully. “Good morning. My name is L/N Y/N, it’s an honour to meet you both.”

First was Eijiro’s mom to let out an impressed hum. She smiled. “It’s nice to meet you too, dear. I’m Kirishima Yua, and this big man over here,” She motioned to her right to the large man. “Is my husband, Kirishima Takeo.”

Takeo gave you a bit of a dead stare as he assessed you, making you feel as if you were under a microscope. He then smiled, and slowly that smile turned into a smirk. “So you’re the person my son has been obsessing over.” He let out amusedly.

Eijiro let out a cough as he glared at his father. “Dad.”

Takeo shrugged, making Sachi giggle. “I’m not lying.” He stated plainly. He looked back to you. “It’s nice to meet you, pumpkin.”

You looked to him and then to Eijiro. You looked between the two of them, trying to spot the differences. “Your son never told me he looked so much like you.”

“You never asked.” Eijiro stated with a fold of his arms.

Takeo let out a loud laugh, lifting up Sachiko and putting her up on his large broad shoulders making her giggle. “Yep, my only boy and my twin. Good thing he’s as handsome as his old man.” He boldly claimed with a broad grin on his face, making you giggle.

Yua rolled her eyes with a swat to his arm. “Don’t mind Takeo, all our children look like him. Kirishima genes are strong.”

“I can see it with Eijiro and Sachi.” You stated as you found a place beside her.

Eijiro nodded his head proudly, like Sachiko had done not too long ago. “Damn right.” He said.

Sachiko looked down at her grandfather, holding onto his head. “Where are we going?”

“To take you to say hi to your cousins and aunts. Then we can go betting.” Takeo revealed to her. She let out a celebratory ‘yes’ making him chuckle.

You watched quietly as Eijiro said hi to his parents and Sachiko sat talking to her grandfather, holding onto her grandfather’s hair. She waved her legs forward and back as she sat on his shoulders. You eventually met their very large family. There were so many of them and they all looked so much like each other. They were very much like each other and very warm and open hearted.

You had seen Akari again and met her sons and saw pictures of her newborn daughter. You were surprised to meet Akari’s identical twin, Ayah, who was a paediatrician. Considering today was a family day at the Derby, you got to meet a lot of them and heard that it wasn’t even all of them.

You held Sachiko’s hand as you, Takeo and Sachi moved to check one of the booths that stated which horses to bet on. You had a hat on your head, blocking out the sun from your face and on your head. The three of you finally reached the overhead shade of the booth but then Sachiko stopped.

You looked down to the girl who raced to hide behind you. She gasped as she tried not to be seen. You raised an eyebrow looking back at her and so did Takeo. He tilted his head. Sachiko ducked back. “Oh no.”

“What’s up Sachi?” You asked her, putting a hand on her head.

Sachiko looked up at you and then looked forward. “It’s Asahi.” She whispered up to you.

You looked forward to see a brunette boy in a wheelchair. He had a bright smile as he looked up at his father with gleaming green eyes and dimples on his face. He had freckles littered all over his cheeks. Your eyebrows raised. You knew that boy. He was in your maths class in a year above Sachiko. He perked up, turning to look at the three of you before smiling broadly. “Miss Y/N!” He waved a hand over to you as he turned himself around.

You chuckled as you smiled over to him, the three of you moving forward. “Hey there, Asahi.”

“Morning Miss Y/N. It’s so good to see you.” Asahi looked up to Takeo. “It’s great to see you too, Kirishima-san.”

Takeo chuckled as he ruffled the boy’s curly hair. “It’s good to see you, Asahi. You’re looking stronger.” He praised.

Asahi sent up one of his dimpled smiles. “I’ve been practising in the pool. My physio said I’m getting better and faster. Isn’t that right, dad?” He turned to loop up at the tall green haired man behind him.

“That’s right, buddy.” He praised before looking at you. He lifted up his dark sunglasses to reveal the same captivating emerald eyes. A smirk went to his face, a dimple in his right cheek. “Midoriya Izuku, tech-multi-millionaire genius philanthropist, or Asahi’s father.” He introduced himself confidently making you chuckle.

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh so which one is it?”

Midoriya smirked, his eyes looking you up and down quickly before settling on your eyes once more. “It can be anything you want it to be.”

You put a hand to your chest and bowed. “Forgive me. I’m Ms L/N Y/N, I teach your son maths.” You informed him, making his eyebrow twitch up.

“Sorry I missed school on Thursday and Friday, Ms Y/N.” He apologised with a bow of his head. “I was at the hospital, but I’m alright now. I promise I’ll finish all my work by Monday.”

You crouched down closer to him with a smile. “It’s no problem, Asahi. I know your trying to stand on your own two feet so it’s no problem at all. I just don’t want you falling behind, okay?” You pinched his cheek making a soft pink blush go to his face. His eyes widened and he nodded his head sincerely.

Izuku was quiet for a moment before turning to Takeo. “Girlfriend?” He asked inquisitively.

Takeo chuckled as he shook his head, folding his arms. “Nope. Eijiro’s.” Izuku hummed as he nodded his head looking back at you.

Asahi looking around you before looking back up at you. “Excuse me, Miss but did Sachiko come to today’s derby?” He asked.

You opened your mouth to reply when you realised that Sachiko wasn’t behind you. You furrowed your eyebrows as you slowly stood up looking around for the girl in a crimson red dress with short black hair. “Sachi?” You asked confused. Immediately Takeo looked around as well, noticing that the girl had disappeared as well. “Where is she? She was just here… Sachi!” You turned around trying to find her.

Eijiro trusted you with his daughter, he trusts you with Sachiko because he knew that Sachiko would be safe with you. And now you couldn’t even find her. How could you lose her? She was an eleven year old girl, Lord knows what could happen to her on her own.

You felt your breathing rapidly increase in fear as your heart started to beat out of your chest. You looked around. “Y/N… Y/N… Y/N.” Takeo took you by your shoulders, making you pause. He saw you start to panic, your hands together. Takeo had his back towards the Midoriya’s keeping your panic out of sight from Asahi. “Honey, breathe. Keep your eyes on me. Breathe for me. In…” You kept your eyes up on his ruby eyes, and took a deep breath. “And out…” You let out a breath. “Good girl.” You felt a warm hand on your face making you breath out again. Takeo smiled down at you, the large man calming you down as despite the fact that it was his granddaughter that was missing. “How about you and me go find her, okay?”

“We'll look as well.” Izuku stated with a nod of his head before looking down at Asahi. “Right, buddy?”

Asahi nodded his head fiercely with a smile on his face. He put his hands on his push rings. “Don't worry, Ms Y/N and Kirishima-san.”

Izuku hummed as Asahi began to push himself forward. He kept a careful eye on his son, not entirely worried. “You okay?”

“Yep.” Asahi voiced, wanting to push himself.

You kept a smile on your face, wiping at your eyes with a sigh. “I'm sorry. That wasn't very professional of me.”

Takeo shook his head as he took out a handkerchief his wife made him and handed it over to you. “No, it’s okay sweetheart. You are allowed to feel, it’s normal.” He reminded you as you wiped at your eyes. You handed back the handkerchief and smiled. Takeo offered his arm to you with a smile. “Come on, lets take a walk around. We can even talk, just you and I.”

You nodded your head as you held onto his large arm, the warmth of his skin going through the shirt he was wearing. You held onto him as Takeo led you along, his tall frame towered over you as you walked side by side.

“You and Eijiro met at Sachi's school?”

“Yes,” You responded. “Eijiro had been called to school due to an incident that happened concerning Sachiko and another learner. However, we only started talking a month later when we met again after school at a PA meeting.”

Takeo nodded his head, digesting that piece of information. “Does he treat you right?”

You were surprised to hear such a question from him. It was an odd thing that he was thinking about you when it was his son that was still in the equation. You felt a flush up your face but nodded. “Yes. He really does. A bit more than I deserve, if I were honest with you.” You expressed with a scratch to the back of your neck. “He spoils me too much. I honestly feel so bad for how much he does for me. I don't feel like I'm reciprocating in return.”

Takeo frowned as he looked down at you but less in anger and more in slight worry. The older man had a caring but strict way about him. It was almost strange. He was so large, domineering even, and clearly much more experienced in life than you but he never come off as condescending. “It's a man's job to take care of you, sweetheart. You shouldn't feel the need to take care of yourself. You deserve to be pampered, spoiled and respected. Relationships are like that. A man wouldn't feel the need to make your life easier if you didn't make being in a relationship with him worth it. Which means you make your relationship worth it.” He explained to you. You looked up at him, all your attention on him as you nodded to his words as he looked deep into your eyes so intently. “Tell me, Y/N… how do you feel about my son?”

The question was another one that had you shocked. You weren't entirely sure what to say but you knew that you couldn't think about the answer forever either. So you said the first thing that came out of your head. “Warm.” It was Takeo's turn to look surprised. You thought about it some more but you were sure about it now. You nodded your head. “Yes… I feel warm. He makes me feel warm and safe, but I also feel complimented when I'm with him. Not that I feel good about myself but that we compliment each other. He's silly, loud and snores sometimes, but he's loving and caring. His heart is so full and yet so scared. I love him. I really do and I pray that we can stand a lifetime.” You attempted to explain your feelings to Takeo.

Takeo was silent for a moment before looking forward as you walked past people. “My son is a sensitive thing. He's always been sensitive. More so than a lot of his sisters. He was always the first to shed a tear when he was younger, and his feelings were so intense and big often than not they confused me. But that's what makes him Eijiro. He's delicate but strong in his own way, even if he needs help some of the time. I see how he looks at you, and I see and hear how much he loves you. I think you're good for my son.”

At that, you turn to look at him in surprise. “But… today is the first day you have met me.”

“Believe me, Y/N,” He let out with an amused scoff. “The eyes never lie. You can tell so much from one interaction at two people than you can from knowing a whole history of them. I can tell.” He winked down at you making you giggle. “I knew my wife for nine months before I proposed to her. When you know, you know. I’m not married for forty-five years for no reason.” He humbly flexed. “I'm more… hesitant about your views on us as his family. Although by now, I'm sure Eijiro has told you a lot.”

You tilted your head in confusion. “What do you mean?” You asked softly.

You watched the older man hesitate, eyebrows furrowing for a moment. “The Kirishimas… we're a pretty traditional family, to put it simply. I'm in politics myself and the views me and my family have are rather… well some would call them leaning to conservative. I'm pretty sure that Eijiro has explained to you how he got Sachi.” You nodded your head. “I'm just warning you that Eijiro's a family man and you have to be okay with us, to stay with Eijiro.”

Although Takeo was being as nice as he could about the matter, you understood it plain and simple. It made sense and was a sensible argument. You were actually pretty glad to hear that he was talking about this to you. You paused making Takeo pause too. He turned to look at you as you smiled up at him. “Mr Kirishima, in the time that I've known your son, anything and everything he has ever said was either for the good of his child or logical. Never once has Eijiro or Akari tried to enforce anything on me concerning your views on things. I am not bothered by them, nor would I try to change them. That is how you raised your family and that is okay.”

Takeo took a moment to think about what you said and smiled. “I'm glad, pumpkin.” You felt him pat your head, catching you by surprise. The look on your face made him laugh. Before he could say anything, you saw something catch his eye. His eyebrows furrowed as he took a step forward. “Is that… Sachi?”

You turned to look where he was looking. It was then that you caught sight of the black haired girl, but you also noticed she was talking to an adult. The person she was talking to had short puffy blond hair and stood in all black before her. “Who is she talking to?” You asked looking up at Takeo.

The man looked furious as he swallowed down hard. “Bakugou Katsuki.” He told you.

At the name, you turned stiff.

Takeo stepped forward. “Sachiko!” Immediately at the sound of her name, Sachiko jolted in surprise as she looked to see who was calling her. Her eyes landed on her grandfather and you. However, he wasn't smiling. He motioned for her to come over to him. “Come here, now.” The girl turned and bowed to the blond in goodbye before leaving towards Takeo. The blond man looked over to Takeo. He stiffened at the sight of the older Kirishima.

Sachiko stood before the both of you with a smile. You turned to her putting a hand on her shoulder. “Where did you go, Sachi? You can't just disappear without saying anything.” You told her with a worried look on your face.

“Sorry, I went looking for Aunty Mina.” She told you. “I couldn't find her, but I found that man who knows her and-"

“Sachiko.” At the sound her name, Sachiko turned to look up at Takeo. Takeo had a frown on his face as he kept looking at the blond who now had another blond woman with him and a brunette man stand with him. “I don't want you ever talking to that man again without a family member present, do you understand me?”

Sachiko tilted her head confused; her eyebrows furrowed. “But Baba, I don't understand.”

“Ah, there you guys are.” Eijiro walked over to the three of you with a smile and a cupcake in hand. “The derby is about to start and turns out Thunder is in the race.” He spoke optimistically. Eijiro then noticed the mood of the space he had just walked in. He looked to his father. Eijiro's gaze then moved to the group of blonds and the brunette man that were slowly making their way here. You watched as Eijiro went pale as he froze.

Sachiko noticed this too, not liking the mood of who she was around. She put her hands on her father's free hand. “Daddy? Daddy, what's wrong?” She asked worriedly. Eijiro's pupils went small almost in fear, his hands slightly shaking.

The blond woman was gorgeous, she smirked with red lips and just as captivating eyes that were more of a brick red. She was dressed fashionably, everything complementing her body. She was a beautiful woman and by the look on her face, it was clear she knew it. “Well I'll be. Kirishima Takeo. It’s been a while.” She spoke. You watched her viperous eyes move up and down Takeo's figure. “You’re looking good.”

Takeo’s jaw tensed. “Mitsuki…” He looked to her husband who stood behind her with a gentle smile on her face. At the sight of him, Takeo seemed to ease slightly, not seeming to have any issues with him. “Masaru and Katsuki.” He briefly looked to their blond son before looking at Mitsuki again. “You're here.”

She chuckled. “Did you expect otherwise? The Bakugous are the top ranked fashion brand in Japan after all.” She reminded him.

You looked to Eijiro noticing his expression hadn't changed. You quickly put your hand over his, leaning over to whisper in his ear. “Eijiro…” At the sound of his name he turned to you. You gave him a worried look before his eyes moved to a worry Sachiko.

“Actually, we were meaning to talk to you or Akari, business never ends afterall. Might we enjoy the race with you?” Mitsuki suggested.

Takeo frowned at the thought. “No thank you. It’s a rare day for my family to all be out and about like this together.”

Mitsuki smirk only broadened. “Oh but on the contrary, Takeo, we are joined by blood aren't we… Eijiro?” The question made Takeo glare as Mitsuki only seemed firm in her statement.

“Daddy?” Sachiko spoke as she tugged on Eijiro's arm.

Immediately the Bakugous looked to her. Mitsuki’s eyebrows raised in surprise at the girl, Masaru’s gaze softened realising who she was. However, Katsuki turned pale as he froze at the sight of her. With Katsuki's eyes on his daughter, Eijiro snapped out of his daze.

He frowned. “Sachiko, go with Y/N and get cupcakes. Aunty Tamami is there, and she'll take you to the rest of the family.” He ordered simply. He glanced at you, and you nodded understandingly.

You took Sachiko's hand trying to lead her away from the rest of the adults. “Come on, Sachi.” You spoke softly.

“But-" She started off as she looked to her father again. “But Daddy are you-"

“Kirishima Sachiko, do not argue with me right now.”

She paused at his tone, strict, but at the same time almost pleading with her to leave. She hesitated as she glanced at the blond man once more, before bowing her head respectfully, in the way she was taught to behave especially in public. “Yes, Daddy.” You offered her your hand and she allowed you to take her away, heading to get cupcakes.

A hum came out of the blond woman as she watched Sachiko walk away. “Oh isn't she gorgeous?” Mitsuki commented as she folded her arms. “My pretty little grand-"

“What do you want, Mrs Bakugou?” Eijiro asked interrupting her as he frowned mimicking his father's defensive stance.

Mitsuki looked to Katsuki. Katsuki swallowed down hard before looking at Takeo instead. “A business proposal if you will. We would like to purchase some of your diamonds to start a jewellery line, to put it simply.”

Takeo hesitated but looked to Eijiro. “That's for Eijiro to decide whether it’s worth the business venture. That's his department.” He revealed, turning all eyes to Eijiro.

Eijiro looked to Katsuki, emotionlessly. “Send your proposal to my secretary. I'm not working today.” He dismissed.

“But it would be such a good venture, would it not?” Mitsuki asked with a raised eyebrow. “The Bakugou and Kirishima brand together, wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

Eijiro didn’t respond as he looked down at his watch. “Excuse us, but the race is about to start.”

-Glitch1d

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seonghrtz · 2 days

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𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐑.

synopsis: the first parents meeting. warnings: mentions of blood, bruises, fights and bullying.

Gojo straightened his dark glasses that were sliding down the bridge of his nose. He glanced sideways at Megumi, who sat next to him, still as a statue and with a bored expression on his face; little Fushiguro had his hands in his lap, his knuckles red and bruised. On the other side of the room, two couples were sitting with their children, their faces covered in bruises. ‘At least the brat won the fight,’ Gojo thought, holding back a laugh.

Almost as soon as the principal was about to address Gojo, a knock on the door echoed through the room and soon you appeared, apologizing for being late. A discreet smile appeared on Gojo's pink lips as he followed your movements until you sat down next to Megumi, the albino even noticing your bandaged dominant hand, probably when you had been contacted by the school warning that Megumi was in trouble, you were on yet another of the thousands of missions you did every single day.

But your serious, almost angry expression ⸻ quite different from the serious you were with him ⸻ sent a shiver down Gojo's spine and the tips of his ears turned slightly red.

"Now that everyone is present, I would like to begin this very important meeting. It has been reported that Fushiguro Megumi physically assaulted two classmates during lunch today. According to the two victims of Fushiguro's aggressive behavior, this was not the first time they had been physically assaulted and that Fushiguro had previously threatened them verbally. This behavior is completely contrary to the behavior we are trying to teach at this school, and as a punishment, we have decided that Fushiguro Megumi will be suspended for three days to reflect on his actions.”

"Three days? That's not enough time for this little thug to reflect on his actions, he should be expelled from school, look how he left my dear son". One of the mothers complained.

Gojo was ready to argue with the woman, but was interrupted by your voice.

"Are you sure this really happened?" you asked in a firm voice.

"Excuse me?" The principal looked you up and down, staring for minutes at your bandaged hand, the gauze stained red. "I believe you're too young and not at all likeable to be Megumi's real mother, so I think you're just a guardian, Miss... Miss Kamo," he said after he had read your name from Megumi's file. "Don't you think you're a bit unqualified to take care of a child, considering that Fushiguro had a role model for his aggressive behavior?"

"I think you have as much wrong information about what led to today's event as your wig."

Gojo laughed at your words, dying inside to comment on the director's ill-fitting wig.

"What?" The principal looked at you with an expression of surprise and indignation.

"For about a month now, Megumi has been telling me about a couple of rude boys who were making fun of a girl who was quiet in class and picking on her. I told him to tell the teacher what was going on, but the teacher didn't seem to care. About a week ago, when I went to pick up Megumi from school, a mother stopped me in the middle of the street with her daughter, who was all bruised up, and thanked Megumi for stopping the bullies from hitting her daughter, which happened to be the same day he got a warning about his aggressive behavior. But I don't think those good boys even got a warning for their aggressions against the girl. And so her mother took her out of school and now we're in this meeting because Megumi is violent against ‘good-hearted people’. Don't you think there's something in this story that doesn't quite fit?”

"Are you saying that my son is a bully? What audacity is that, you bitch, you're nothing but a brat!"

"Sir, did you look at the security cameras before you put all the blame on Megumi?" You asked, ignoring the woman.

The principal swallowed and looked at the teacher standing next to him, who was breaking out in a cold sweat from all the talking you had done, knowing that you weren't wrong in a single word.

"Oh, of course you didn't look, that was too much to expect from such incompetent professionals as yourselves." You took a deep breath, "Gojo, you were right when you said that this isn't one of the best schools and they certainly don't live up to their ideals and morals. Let's get Megumi out of here and put him in a better school and make an official complaint about misconduct."

"Ah, finally, can we go now?" Gojo rose from his chair with a sideways smile.

"I think we wasted enough time with an unnecessary meeting." You got up with Megumi to leave the room as quickly as possible.

"Hey, bitch! You think you can just walk away and it's all over?" One of the women said, getting your attention, "Do you really think we're going to let this little shit beat up our kids and get away with it? Besides all the crap you said?"

When the woman least expected it, your bandaged hand passed millimeters away from her face and slammed into the wall behind her, making a terrifying sound. You pulled your hand away from the wall, showing the broken spot where it had hit and a small dead mosquito in the middle of the shattered wall, controlling yourself as much as possible, both in your anger and in the cursed energy running wild through your body. The woman looked horrified at what had happened and at you, who were so close to her, with a serious expression on your face.

"You can say whatever you want about me and use the most offensive words, but don't you dare say anything about my son." Your firm tone made the woman swallow dryly, afraid that one wrong word or movement would fully awaken the beast within you. "Are we clear?" You asked, making the woman nod frantically.

Without saying another word, you left the principal's office with Megumi, but when you looked back, you noticed that a certain albino with bright blue eyes was missing.

Gojo was still in the principal’s office. The boy let out a chuckle that caught everyone's attention, and when they all looked in his direction, he took off his round sunglasses and looked at everyone with his deadly blue eyes.

"I just wanted to warn you, if you mess with my girl, be disrespectful or have the audacity to talk to her, know that I will destroy every single of you and you will be reduced to nothing. Now... if you want to live a long life, I advise you not to even think about her, or I will be the last thing you ever see. It may sound like a joke, but believe me, it's not.”

Satoru smiled briefly and put his glasses back on before leaving the room. The young sorcerer walked with long strides to where you were standing next to Megumi.

"...violence is not always the solution, Fushiguro." You took a deep breath and placed your hand gently on the boy's head. "But I'm proud of you for doing the right thing and not only helping the innocent girl, but also warning someone who could solve the whole situation."

"It is a shame that the 'person who could solve the whole situation' was such a shitty and irresponsible person. But I'm glad you won the fight! My son is not a loser!"

"I'm not your son." Megumi replied with a bored tone.

"Wow, you didn't say anything when Kamo-chan called you her son, but when I do, then I get hit back!" Gojo said dramatically.

"Oh, about that, forgive me, I think I got a little carried away when I said it.”

"It's okay..." Megumi looked away with red cheeks. He wouldn't admit it, at least not at that moment, but a part of him had liked it when you called him son, it made him feel part of something, part of a real family.

"How about some ice cream while we discuss which school to put Megumi in, huh?" Gojo smiled excitedly at the idea of eating something sweet.

"Whatever..." Megumi shrugged.

Just as you were about to speak, your phone rang, interrupting the moment. You pulled it out of your uniform pocket and looked at the number, immediately recognizing that they were ready to send you on another mission. Your eyes flicked from the small screen to Megumi and Gojo, who seemed to be arguing about something completely trivial, causing a small, discreet half-smile to appear on your lips. Quickly, your finger pressed the off button and you put your phone back in your pocket.

"Where's the ice cream parlor?" You asked, getting their attention.

"Who was calling you…?" Gojo asked curiously about your phone call.

"Nobody important. Now tell me where the ice cream parlor is before I change my mind."

"Ah, always so serious, Kamo-chan!" Gojo pouted.

"And stop calling me that!"

"Oh, you hurt my feelings that way... Kamo-chan," Gojo laughed when he noticed your angry look in his direction.

"You were amazing there." Gojo murmured as he cleaned the wound on your dominant hand.

You were sitting on a bench in the bathroom of Satoru's room after a lot of insistence from the albino in front of you. You were so tired after fighting low and medium level curses since the early hours of the morning, with the whole situation with Megumi at school and Gojo's voice in your head, that you finally accepted that Satoru would take care of your injuries.

"Oh, you think so?" You asked dully, "I think I overdid it a bit, especially with the punch on the wall..."

"That was the best part!" Gojo exclaimed excitedly, "You're extremely sexy when you're angry."

"Can we have a normal conversation without you making it awkward?" You rolled your eyes at the albino's comment.

"Okay, okay, if you want to get emotional! Look, what you did for Megumi in that room was unbelievable. That boy looks up to you and you're such an inspiration to him, I could see the happiness in his eyes when you stood up for him. Thank you so much for helping me with all this child care stuff.” Gojo said as he bandaged your hand again, but in the right way and not the messy way it was in the morning, "Aah, when I say nice things you just ignore me, leave me in the lurch, is that it?" he asked when he noticed your lack of response.

"Ah... sorry, well... I don't really know what to say."

"Nah, it's okay, I was just being annoying." Gojo smiled mischievously, "So the part where you said about the principal's wig was so iconic!" Gojo laughed, "It was so crooked, I don't know how no one warned him about it.”

You just watched Satoru give his point of view of the whole situation. In the dim light of the bathroom, with his black shorts and simple white blouse, he looked like a normal teenager, not the most powerful weapon in Jujutsu society. Gojo Satoru was perhaps the most human person you had ever met, even if you only thought of him as the strongest sorcerer of your generation.

But in this light, in front of you, Gojo seemed to be just Satoru. A person without fancy titles who secretly carried a heavy burden. He was just Satoru, a teenager who had lost many things, but who was trying his best to make sure that two children would have different paths than he had, and that they could truly be children without having their childhood stolen from them.

And there, in the midst of his laughter and his ridiculous imitations with exaggerated and dramatic expressions of the event, you felt your heart beat faster.

memory garden masterlist !

☆! tag list: @arminswifee . @khaleesihavilliard . @chieeeeeee . @manooffline . @shybananabagellover . @r0ckst4rjk . @sad-darksoul . @chuluoyi . @stormflysaysstuff . @arminsarlerts

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echobx · 2 days

Text

Truth or Dare - Rafe Cameron × fem!reader

summary: Topper convinces Rafe to take part in a harmless game of Truth or Dare

warnings: none

word count: 872

author's note: I was trying to work on a prompt and it went sideways, so you get a blurb instead lol (still working on the prompts tho, my dudes)

“Why would I play a children's game on my own account?” Rafe scoffed but Topper kept grinning at him, his stupid Topper grin. “What? You look sick, dude.”

“Y/n is playing,” Topper said and flashed his eyebrows.

“So?” Rafe tried his best to seem not interested, taking another sip of his whiskey.

“One game, come on. I'll pay double for your shit if you play,” Topper proposed and Rafe knew he couldn't let that deal flop. Barry was still on his neck from the last time, and he wanted to keep some cash for himself too for once.

“Fine,” he grumbled and walked into the other room where you sat amongst your friends in a circle, playing Truth or Dare and giggling.

There was something about you that Rafe couldn't quite catch, it was like you were always glowing. When he saw you at the beach or out with friends or studying at a Café in town, one he had just recently started visiting regularly because it was your favorite study spot.

“Can we join?” Topper asked and you flashed him a bright smile.

“The more, the better.” Your voice was like music, high notes bound together by an underlying sweet melody. Rafe had never thought to hear anything so sweet.

He wasn't someone who fell for girls easily, he had never really fallen for anyone, but there was something about you that made him want you more than he had ever craved anybody.

“I'm not sitting on the floor,” Rafe hissed under his breath, but Topper just pulled him down, and when he heard your soft giggle and caught you staring at him, he forgot why he was so against these games. Your light blushing and instantly turning your gaze away from him gave him an insurmountable boost of ego.

“Truth or Dare,” someone asked and pointed at Topper, “I don't know your name, sorry.”

“I'm Topper,” he introduced himself with a polite smile before slapping Rafe on the back. “And that's Rafe.”

“Okay, Topper,” the girl who had asked chuckled, “what's your choice?”

“Truth,” Topper grinned.

“Why’d you wanna play?”

“Playing is fun, we like games. Right? Rafe?” Topper looked at Rafe who had a hard time not gritting his teeth.

“Yeah, fun,” Rafe muttered and took another drink.

The game went on and Rafe was glad that he didn't get involved much, it gave him more time to look at you. You were sitting crisscrossed, your hair hung in soft waves over your shoulders. Your top was giving him a good view of your cleavage and the shorts were short enough to probably show half your ass, standing up.

“Truth or Dare, Rafe,” Topper asked from next to him, and you watched them closely.

You had noticed that Rafe couldn't keep his eyes off of you, and it felt nice to be admired for once, especially by a guy like him.

“I don't care,” Rafe sighed, swinging his head from side to side.

“Okay, dare it is. Kiss the prettiest girl in this room,” Topper grinned and Rafe wanted to strangle him on the spot. This was not how it was supposed to go. He had wanted to play the gentleman for once, woo you with his charm and newfound sweetness, but Topper didn't seem to think it a good idea.

“That's gonna be unfair to the rest of the ladies in the room,” Rafe tried to get himself out of the Dare.

“I think the ladies will forgive you, right, ladies?” Top said with a light swing in his voice, he was way more drunk than Rafe had thought.

You watched them argue silently before Rafe got up and downed his drink, putting the glass down on a side table behind him. Then he took a few steps towards you and held out his hand.

You were hesitant to take it, your heart pounding as if it wanted to jump out of your chest. And when your skin touched his you felt a jolt of electricity go through your body, it was comfortable and warm and exhilarating.

Rafe pulled you to your feet and held onto you. He smelled expensive, like the cologne your dad only ever used on special occasions. His eyes were of an electrifying blue and his lips looked soft, softer than you had ever imagined.��

“Are you sure?” he whispered, and you nodded, looking up at him. He was so tall compared to your soft and small physique.

Rafe wet his lips, taking his hand up to cradle your jaw in his big hands. He leaned down and you up, meeting in a swift kiss. But once his lips had connected to yours he didn't want to let go again, and you didn't have any complaints about it either. You looped your arms around his neck, fingers raking through his hair at the nape of his neck.

“I think that's more than enough,” you could hear Topper holler and broke away from the boy who had wanted to keep kissing you.

“Uhm, I'm sorry,” you apologized and wanted to turn away again, but Rafe held onto your hand and pulled you back towards him, twirling you into his arms.

“I'm not,” he whispered.

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @ijustwantttoread @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @princessmaybank @kys4-20 @drwstarkeyy @immyowndefender @julczimozart

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #~blurb #my writing #obx #outer banks #obx fanfiction

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calumfmu · 2 days

Note

Could…uh…we ever get a part two of Fgirlxsteve?

My love, my sweet, sweet love. Here it is. <3 Steve x Fuckgirl!Reader (part one here) 18+ mdni; smut, unprotected sex, cream pie, sweet!Steve, his idea of dirty talk is sweet nothings, fingers, eating out (female receiving), aggressive men (not Steve), 4.5k+ words

Avoiding the Family Video had been easy for you, it was just another place you had marked on your bed post. With all the pick in Hawkins, it was just another spot you had learned to add to your 'avoid-at-all-costs' list, along with the bowling alley, library down on 17th, and even the post office.

You occupied yourself with the other picking of men in the town, going after whatever you could get your hands on. They weren't as good as Steve, but you couldn't think about him. Whatever had happened between the two of you shouldn't have even been a topic of conversation, it should've been the last thing on your mind.

Yet that's how you found yourself arguing in the middle of the street, barefoot, shoes in hand with the new conquest of the week.

He was clingy, desperate to get you alone at any second he could, getting snappy when it came to other men even looking at you. It was toxic to say the least, but nothing that wasn't new to you. Toxic was your love language, but when it came to him, it was something else.

"This isn't how it works!" You yelled at him, your bag slipping off of your shoulder. The thing leather strap of it caught at the bend of your wrist, swinging in the air as you became more heated.

Taking a few steps away from him, you attempted to lean down to slide your shoes on, hopping a little in your movements.

"Babe, come on, just get in the car," the annoying man pleaded, hands waving in the air as he followed you. The two of you were walking down the middle of this road, residential area that was a little too quiet for the events that were taking place.

"Don't call me that!"

You didn't even turn to look at him, quickening your footsteps as you looked both ways to find peace away.

"Babe!" Another call of the word that made your stomach flip, eyes roll in annoyance.

The streets looked unfamiliar to you, parts of Hawkins you had yet to make your way around. Green lawns, green trees with leaves that were just starting to fall at the end of summer, abandoned children toys in the front of houses, a maroon beemer that looked oh, so familiar. The sight of it had your movements faltering, feet stumbling on the pavement.

The man that you were avoiding had time to catch up with the stumble in your gait, his hands coming up to grab at your upper arm.

"Come on," he said your name smoothly, milky white teeth shining behind the words in a smile. "Just get in the car, and we'll work it out."

All you saw was red, his handsome features turning up to make himself look foolish. You tried shaking your arm out of his grip, but it was no use, his fingers digging into your skin. Baring your teeth at him, you hissed at him, wanting to lean into a more primitive side that was clawing to get out.

"Let. Go," the anger in your words soured the taste of your mouth. He cocked his head to the side, eyeing you up and down. "No-"

The call of your name had you looking at a house a bit of the ways down, Steve standing in the yard, looking at the scene in front of you. He questioned you again, the sound of his voice calling out and down the street.

"Steve?" You repeated back, not believing that of all places you would find yourself right in front of his house. The eye roll you tried so hard to fight was beginning to come out, a situation for disaster bubbling up.

This situation was just what you needed.

"Are you okay?" His voice drew nearer as he took a few steps towards the two of you. Your failed date still had his fingers glued to your arm, your skin turning a few shades lighter from where they dug in. "What's going on?"

"Who are you?" You attempted taking a step back away from him, but didn't make it far, his grip pulling you right back into his side.

"I'm Steve."

"He's Steve."

The two of your voices blended together as Steve arrived in front of you. His eyes dropped to the grip on your person, brow furrowing slightly as he noticed the discomfort in your face. He gave you a slight nod of his head, checking in with you to see if he was reading this situation in the way that it truly was.

You wanted to be stubborn, wanted to not see him after the last moments that you shared together. It was awkward enough that the man had called your house a few times after you left him high and dry, you didn't want him to see the down side of the lifestyle you chose. With a slight nod back to him, he understood the message clearly.

"Hey, buddy, why don't you go back in your house with mommy and daddy, and leave the two of us alone?" The man by your side huffed out his chest a little, trying to intimidate Steve into fleeing the scene.

It made the two of you give him a side eye, lips turned up in disgust at him.

"I think I'm good," Steve nodded, hands stuffed into his pockets. Taking a step closer towards your other side, you could see the gears turning in his head as he scuffed his shoes along the pavement.

"So... what are you? Her knight in shining armor?" His hand finally left your arm, your fingers coming up to rub the bruise that was already starting to form. He took a step towards Steve, eyes squinting up at him from the few inches short he was.

"Yeah, something like that," Steve bit back a laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation, raising his eyebrows.

Your date took a long look at him, gritting his teeth before glancing at you. As if he thought about it, he turned on his heel away from the two of you, waving an absent hand in your direction.

"You're not even that hot anyways," he yelled at you before angrily marching to his car. The door closed with a slam, tires screeching on the pavement before he swerved off in your direction, narrowly missing the two of you before Steve grabbed your shoulder, urging you out of the way.

The air was filled with the stench of burnt rubber and gasoline as the sound of his engine grew quiet as he sped off.

"Ouch," you whispered, grimacing at the burning of your arm and the comment he left you with. It shouldn't hurt as much coming from the biggest asshole of Hawkins, but the ache was still there.

"Are you okay?"

Steve's hand was still on your shoulder, rubbing small circles on the skin. The sleeve of your top was wrinkling under his touch, the thin material scratching at your skin. It was all too domestic for you, a new desperation filling your stomach to flee the situation.

Taking a step away from him, you fixed your hair, dabbed under your eyes, and tried to collect your composure.

"You don't have to act all nice to me, Steve," your voice was shaky as you felt as if you were under a microscope. You didn't have to look at him to recognize the confusion on his face.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, attempting to get closer again only to stand in place at the dramatic step you took back. "I'm not-I'm being a decent person right now, especially with what just happened. What?"

"Nothing just happened." You remained firm in your denial, it was the only way to maintain face.

He looked down at his shoes, awkwardly tilting his feet from side to side as he debated the situation. His hair was running wild in the wind that was just starting to pick up, his tattered grey hoodie with 'Hawkins Basketball' printed on the front rippled as he sighed deeply, faded denim on his legs lengthening him.

You couldn't keep your eyes off of him no matter how much you wanted to flee the situation, him being the most appetizing thing that you've laid your eyes once since the first day you met him. It wasn't what you should've been thinking about after the events that occurred, but he was tempting you in a way that scared you a little.

"Why don't you come inside? I could take you home-"

Your eyes cut to him quickly, narrowing as he raised his hands in defense. He nodded quickly, clearing his throat to continue his next few sentences carefully.

"-Or I could call you a cab or... something," he finished, chewing on his bottom lip. You could see the nerves eating away at him, his eyes trying not to stare at you in your baby tee and short shorts, skin prickling with goosebumps. If he asked, you would tell him it was because of the weather, not him.

You let out a bitter laugh, "Like there's cabs on this side of town."

The only sound that could be heard was the wind blowing through the trees, a far child's laughter from the nearest house to you, a barking of a dog.

"Come on," he whispered, his hand leaving his pocket. Slowly, he reached up to grab your hand. You didn't know why you did, let him grab your fingers into his grip. There was a slight clamminess to his hands, his nerves showing dominance over his posture. "Please."

With a slight nod of your head, you let him lead you two his house, a few hundred feet away from the remnants of the dramatic scene. The entry way was grand and huge, something that had you giggling to yourself over how much money this kid seemed to have.

"Nice place, Steve," you muttered, allowing him to hold the door open for you, take your bag from your shoulder, place it on a table in the foyer. It was a little too domestic for you, even if you wanted to welcome it. "Bet you have a nice trust fund to match it."

"Ha." His eyebrows raised with dry humor even as his face stayed the same. Sensitive topic, you noted.

With his hand on the small of your back, he led you up the stairs and into his room, his grid work wallpaper screaming at you as soon as the door opened. You whistled long and low, taking an exaggerated look around the room, before you turned to face him, plopping down on the mattress.

You bounced on the plush comfort of it, your palms splaying out beside you as you felt his comfort beneath your fingers.

"Already taking me to bed, I see," you wiggled your eyebrows at him, small smirk coming up to the corners of your mouth. He rolled his eyes at you, his own smile coming up to his face as he closed the door behind him.

"There she is," he laughed, moving to sit next to you. He bumped your hip with his own as he gestured for you to make room for him.

You laid down back on his bed, your hands coming up to feel the mattress cover above your head. With the lift of your arms, you felt your abdomen become exposed, the cool air of his room hitting your skin. His eyes ran over your figure, not lingering on the exposure of your skin, but settling on your eyes. It was the most naked you had ever felt in front of someone.

"So..." One of your hands reached down to grab at the hoodie he adorned, slightly lifting it to show the tan skin underneath. "What am I here for, handsome?"

The flush in his cheeks came and went quickly, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.

"You don't have to-" He began before you sat up to lean into his side. Your hand came to his cheek, feeling day old stubble underneath your touch. With the closeness, you could see the different shades of brown behind his eyes, warmth that you had yet to see in the men you slept with.

"What if I want to, Steve?" You whispered, pressing a small kiss to his cheek. He gulped, Adam's apple bobbing before leaning into the kiss you pressed to his mouth, his lips molting with yours.

He tasted as sweet as last time, only seemed to get better at kissing than your last touch. It was short and sweet, mouths moving into one as you began to run your hand down his abdomen. His chest was firm beneath your touch, his teeth were a dull tug at your bottom lip, tongue asking for entrance.

"Wait-" He pulled away from you, eyes fluttering open as a small whine left your lips. "Is this going to be like last time?"

An unfamiliar ache formed in your chest at his words, your eyes bulging slightly at the hurt on his face. It was almost like his words hurt you, the idea of him being hurt by the last time hurting you. Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you thought of what to say.

This could count as the first time a man left you speechless.

"I don't know what to... say," your hand left his body, your eyes looking everywhere but him. Everything in you wanted to run for the hills, look for that cab that he promised earlier.

He nodded, his own eyes wandering around his room. "I understand, maybe I should call some-"

"No," you said, turning to look at him as he went to raise off the bed.

He turned to look at you, glancing away every couple of seconds.

"No-don't... it won't be like last time," you said, cursing at yourself internally for the words that left your mouth. You didn't know what had gotten into you, maybe it was the promise of what was about to if you stayed a little longer and promised him something. He still looked unsure as you reached to grab his hand this time. "I promise."

"Are you lying to me?" He asked, placing his own hand on your cheek this time. His fingers smoothed the hair at your hairline, thumb running over the delicate skin. "Just to sleep with me?"

Shaking your head, your instincts screamed at you, no matter what your mind was set on.

"Promise."

You expected a clash of lips, but he came in soft and slow, nipping at your lips as the two of you moved to lay down on the bed. He was heavy over you, firm muscle and the broadness of his shoulders pining you down, pressing you into his bed.

Your hands snuck underneath his hoodie, feeling the expanse of his back under your fingertips, little bits of textured skin where you imagined his constellation of moles to be. In a swift movement and a brief separation of lips, he slid it off, revealing himself shirtless underneath.

You wanted to stare at him, run your hands over his chest, become familiar with each and every one of the beauty marks adoring his skin, but his lips proved to be more appetizing. The plush skin of them knew what they were doing, licking into your mouth and pulling at your own. He was languid in his movements, passionate kisses shared between the two of you as his hands tried to slip off of the shirt you wore, tangled up right beneath your chin as he didn't want to separate from you yet again.

Your bra exposed, he pulled away to press kisses to the globes of your boobs, sucking marks into the kiss. Blindly, his hand reached down to unbutton your shorts, fingers moving expertly as you helped take off the rest of your shirt, slipping it over your head. His free hand slipped into the other cup of your bra, toying with your nipple. You began to see stars, both of his hands and mouth busy.

With one hand dipping beneath the cotton of your panties, the other pinching your nipple slightly and his mouth nipping closer to your other one, you began to see stars. This couldn't have been the same nervous boy you saw a few months ago, his moves beginning to outshine your own.

A gasp left your mouth as his thumb caught your clit as his fingers began to dip lower, his index collecting the wetness of your cunt. It was a teasing motion, the way he teased dipping the tip of his finger in and switching back to running it along your wet seam.

Leaving your breast shining with his spit, he came back to your face, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"You okay?" He asked, intently watching you fall apart beneath him. He had barely even touched you, but you were loving the way he made you feel.

Nodding, a moan fell from you as his finger pushed in further than he attempted before, a slight wiggle of the digit before he pulled it out again. He imitated the nod you gave him, a small smirk on his lips as he placed his hand on your forehead, thumb brushing across your eyebrow. You leaned into the touch, whining as his finger returned pressing all the way down to the knuckle.

He pumped it in once, twice before removing it all together, hand leaving your shorts.

"Good, baby, now take these off for me."

He saw the hesitation in your face as the word hit you, your eyes widening as you looked at him. You didn't give him or even yourself time to process it before you were kicking off the denim, waving your ankles as your shorts got caught. He laughed at your movements, unbuttoning his own jeans to ease up the pressure in his pants with his growing hard on.

Your underwear and bra followed suit, your nakedness feeling like so much in the room. Reaching for his pants, you wanted to see him naked, see him again.

"Tonight's about you," he said, moving you up the bed so you rested against his pillows. They were plush, your palms coming up to rest beside your head, as he settled over you. "My treat."

With a nod, you let him take over, let him press kisses to your body. He was treating you like you were a work of art, cherishing you with a trail of his love as he led down your body: a kiss to your right boob, then left, a kiss down to your belly button, a glance to you to make sure that you felt okay, a nod given to him. A kiss to your pubic bone, the spread of your legs wider before he settled down, thumb catching your clit.

He began small circles, leaning up on his elbows as his other hand ran up and down your slit. Looking down at him, he was focused on your cunt, eyes intently watching the wetness that began to pool more and more. He looked so casual, like he was filing his damn taxes as he stared down at you.

"Steve," you drawled out, hips twitching as the tease became too much. Glancing up at you, he gave a shift of his head before he leaned down to press a kiss to your folds.

It had you groaning, your eyes fluttering shut as his mouth made contact. As many men as you slept with, it had been a while since anyone had gone down on you.

He was just as slow and passionate as he was kissing you, his mouth making stake somewhere else. His tongue darting out to lick at you, kitten licks running up your folds, running over your hole, thumb still rubbing those damn circles into you.

You felt yourself dripping at the way he was working you, your fingers digging into the pillows around you.

"F-fuck."

He took it as encouragement, his tongue entering you. Moving one of your legs over his shoulder, he got closer to you, removing his thumb to replace it with his mouth.

A jolt ran through your spine as he sucked at you, loud slurping noises filling the room accompanied by your moans. Your hips were grinding down on his face, one of your hands reaching down to grip at his hair.

He was insatiable, tongue running flatly over you, fingers slipping inside to massage at your wet walls. He found that spot inside of you, spongy wall sucking him in even further. A few moans of his own sounded out against you, the vibration urging a new wave of wetness.

"Steve- I'm gonna-" you barely could warn him before you were pulsating around him, a gush of wetness soaking his mouth. He moaned even louder against your clit, the feeling of it having you pull him closer to your cunt.

He continued licking at you, another finger entering you as you fell apart. The over stimulation earned a yelp from you, your hips raising off the bed to get away from his tongue.

"St-steve, it's too much-"

He left you, fingers still pumping in and out of you as you peered up at you.

"That's all you got?" His smile was devious as he continued finger fucking you, curling them at just the right time. It felt like you were a teenager again with his fingers inside of you, your stamina keeping up like nothing ever before.

Rolling your eyes, you reached down to rub at your own clit, slightly wincing at the sensitive feeling.

"I need you," you whined, spreading your legs further.

He moved quickly before he was removing himself, towering over you while kicking off his jeans. It would've been comical if you weren't so horny, the way he was trying to hold himself up and tug his pants off, boner poking out so strong, you thought it was hurting him.

Once free, he reached around you, digging into his bedside drawer as he searched for something. A few curses left him as he came up short, items clattering around as his movements became more hurried. You could read his mind.

"It's okay, we don't have to use one," you said, placing a hand on his chest from where he hovered above you. Caught off guard, he looked down at you, confusion on his face.

"You don't-?"

"It's okay, Steve," you nodded at him, the gesture becoming a language between the two of you with multiple meanings. Your own way of trusting each other.

He returned to you, leaning on his elbow as he pressed a kiss to you. "I could find one for you, if you're unsure, I'm sure they're som-"

"Steve," you said, pulling him down for another kiss. "I promise it's okay."

With a look into your eyes, he got his confirmation, pressing his mouth to yours. The kiss was slow as he reached down between you to line himself up with your entrance. Pushing in, you both groaned into each other's mouths at the stretch, your brains becoming clouded with each other.

It was a lot, bigger than you'd taken before, the girth of his cock making up for everything you've never had before. Getting choked up, you clawed at him, wanting to bring him closer than he was, even if it wasn't possible.

Pressing to the hilt, he couldn't wait before pulling out, pushing in again with a slight force that had you moving up the bed. You couldn't help the noises falling from your mouth, your eyes squeezed shut as he fucked into you, one of his legs pushing up to lift your own up.

His mouth kissed every part of yourself that it could find, your head moving side to side as he cherished you. This was all too perfect, your chest full of an emotion you were quite unfamiliar with.

"Steve."

The tone in your voice had his hips stuttering, fucking into you a little quicker. You could tell he was close by the fast movement of his hips, jerks that threw off his rhythm, pushing into you a little too far, the press of your cervix that had your back arching with the twinge of pain. It was all too good though, the pain quickly merged into pleasure as his body covered your own.

"Fuck baby, you're so perfect."

His words had your back arching further, fingernails digging into the skin of his ass, pulling him even deeper.

"I could fuck you all day."

With a moan, you pulled your leg even higher, whining at the way his dark thatch of hair was rubbing against your clit. You saw stars behind your eyelids, his words only fueling the fire building in the pit of your stomach.

"I'm gonna make you mine, gonna cum all in you, make you mi-"

A high pitched whine left your mouth as you came around him, throbbing at the feeling of his dick deep inside. You would like to say it was the sex itself that made you tip over the edge, the feeling of him hitting your spot over and over. But the two of you knew that it was the promise of his words, the feeling of being wanted by him, needed by him hitting you in just the right spot.

Worked up and spent, you took his face in your hands, pressing a kiss to his nose, then his forehead.

"Make me yours, baby," you whispered at him, watching the way his eyes fluttered shut and feeling his hips press into you once more before he paused, warmth filling you. You felt the twitch of his cock inside of you, throbbing deep as he filled you with his seed.

Groaning, he pulled out of you with a loud squelch that filled the air, one of his eyes closing in a grimace. He laid beside you, turning on his side as he stared at you.

You felt his eyes on you as you stared at the ceiling, feeling cock drunk to a whole different level. It should've had you feeling scared, but the only thing that you could feel was the warmth of him, comforting you.

His thumb rested on your hip, running small circles over the skin. The two of you watched his hand make the small movement, droplets of perspiration being wiped away.

"You could leave if you want," he whispered, voice breaking the quiet of the air. "I'm probably making you uncomfortable."

Looking up at him, you leaned up to press another kiss to his lips. His eyes found you again, shock behind the irises.

"I think I'm going to stay," you matched his low tone, smiling once his own came across his face. "I was playing hard to get at first, but now I promise I'll be hard to get rid of."

He made a dramatic face at you, a fake groan leaving his lips. "Ooo, talk dirty to me, baby."

You laughed at him as he leaned over you, pressing several kisses to your neck and chin, slathering you in his love. It still made you a little uncomfortable at the gestures, all of this a foreign concept to you. His touches began to feel a bit more like home to you, something that had been missing in all of the men that came before.

Masterlist. Inbox and requests are open! <3

#my writing #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x you #smut #Steve Harrington smut #request #ugh I loved this one

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ithebookhoarder · 14 hours

Note

It's completely fine if you don't do this but I loved your Colin one, so can you do how the other brothers would react if they found out you were pregnant??!?!?!?!

Unexpectedly Expecting (Anthony / Benedict Bridgerton x AFAB!reader):

A/N: Thank you for sending this in! I'm combining this with another request - I hope that's ok? 👇 As both were on a similar track, but I can always do more later on this because who doesn't love imagining the Bridgerton boys with little ones?! 🥰

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, mentions of childbirth, references to doctors and medical professionals, pregnancy symptoms like nausea and morning sickness, mentions of trouble conceiving a child, sex references, swearing, blood (let me know if I missed any!).

Masterlist:

Anthony Bridgerton:

As Viscount Anthony would likely be expecting to have children and heirs of his own and yes, it would be a concern if you weren’t falling pregnant as a couple. However, I think it upsets him more than anything because of how upsetting it is for you. He loves you and seeing you beating yourself up and making yourself sick with worry is heartbreaking.

He has so many siblings and they have children so the Bridgerton estate and line will continue, he soothes, hoping it would take some pressure off of yourself. If you fall pregnant then that would be a blessing, but you weren’t a failure. In fact, for all he knows, he could be the issue. It’s impossible to be certain either way and he would never let you take that on yourself. Any arguments you’d have would be about that and nothing else.

“If you think I will sit here and allow you to abuse yourself in such a way then you are sorely mistaken, my love-“

“-You don’t understand, Anthony! This is my fault. Even if you do not agree. To society, to the rest of the world, the blame will lay solely on me! That’s all that matters!”

“No! You are all that matters and I will not allow you to keep torturing yourself this way. We will stop, do you hear me? No more talk of heirs or blame or anything to do with the subject. Let us just enjoy our life as it is for now. The future is unimportant.”

Violet would side with Anthony, as would all his siblings. They love you too and want you to be happy - even if Violet does offer some tips and insights on ways one could assist with falling pregnant, but only at your request.

Still, when you’re not with child months later you start to lose hope.

It gets worse as more of the Bridgerton siblings start getting married and falling pregnant. They would never rub it in your face, but it doesn’t make it any less painful when you see them or their partners caressing their bumps or discussing what names they could choose.

You’d wish them well, obviously, but inside you feel like you’re dying. Even Anthony holding you close and pressing a comforting kiss against your cheek does nothing to raise your spirits.

With each passing day you become just a little more certain that you’re not destined to have a child… which is why you’re utterly stunned when you miss your monthly bleed - not once, but twice…

You didn’t say anything at first, obviously worried that it was just delayed from your recent stress. However, when it happens again you start to dare to hope for the impossible and you’re all but racing to get a physician to confirm the diagnosis.

As soon as you do, you’re racing straight back to your husband to share the good news. You don’t care if he is in a meeting, at his club, with his family or even in the middle of the street. You still sprint to his side and blurt the news for everyone to hear.

The tears are instantaneous, as is the cheer of delighted disbelief he gives, throwing his arms about you and spinning you around until you’re both dizzy. “This… this is the greatest blessing we could have received, my love. I’m so happy… we’re going to be parents? We’re having a child?… oh, lord. We’re having a child.”

This man has been acting as a father to his siblings for so long you have no problem imagining him taking to the role like a duck to water. That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be scared out of his mind to think of the responsibility of raising a child of his own.

You can expect this man to be badgering his mother with a never ending list of questions - heck, he’d even swallow his pride and ask Simon and Daphne for advice if it came to it. After all, ‘if Hastings can do it, it can’t be too difficult’.

You’re laughing too hard to even try and correct him.

This man would be so protective of you whilst you were pregnant - especially after the troubles you’ve had getting to this point.

“I really think you ought to have a maid accompany you when you journey to and fro. I should hate for something to happen to you."

“Anthony, I’m only going for a walk around the garden!”

“But still-“

Anything you could possibly need he has already bought three of them. No expense is spared for you and your unborn child - including summoning doctors from their beds in the middle of the night if you even think something might be wrong with either you or the baby.

Speaking of doctors, he would fight anybody who tried to banish him from your side when the time comes. He and his mother, should you wish her there, would be at your side the whole time. They would be your biggest cheerleaders and would do whatever they could to ensure you were cared for and supported, whether it be mopping your brow, holding you as you pace around, or advocating for you against any doctor who tries to violate your wishes about the birth.

And when you are finally handed a crying, wrinkled, cherub with Anthony’s eyes… well, it’s all worth it. You have never felt a love as pure as this, except for when you met Anthony, and nothing can ruin such a perfect moment.

Benedict Bridgerton:

Benedict would be so calm about possibly having children with you. If you do have children, then they will be loved and adored - obviously. But if you don’t? Then that doesn’t matter. It means you two can continue your adventures together for a while longer, travelling wherever your heart desires, visiting galleries and indulging in your bohemian lifestyle with all your friends.

You have your freedom - even more so now that you’re married. Society doesn’t care what you do now that you’re no longer on the marriage mart. It’s liberating, and any pressure to produce heirs comes from only you or your loved ones, so it’s non-existent.

However, if you did want children then Benedict would be more than eager to help create them… and get creative about doing so.

“Benedict! That is not how a child is conceived… no wonder you’re a student of the arts. The academy of science would never admit you with such a lack of understanding about basic anatomy!”

“You’re right, my dear, but you have to admit - this is a hell of a lot more fun.”

He would be nothing but supportive of you and so gentle every time your monthly bleed approached, especially if nothing happens. He understands how your hopes rise and how hard it hits you when you realise it hasn’t yet worked. He’d never insult you or diminish your feelings.

If anything, he would be quick to shoulder any possible blame, refusing to let you even begin to suggest that it has anything to do with you or your body. You are perfect. End of - and he’ll fight anyone who suggests otherwise.

“You can’t rush things, angel. After all, the best things are worth the time and effort. Michelangelo took over four years to finish the Sistine Chapel, and Da Vinci sixteen years to paint the Mona Lisa. Some things are worth the wait… and if it doesn’t happen how we wish, then we’re already creating something so beautiful between us. Our family will be perfect, no matter how it looks, how it comes about, or even when it does.”

And when it does? Well, then you’ve never seen him look so happy, tears pouring from his eyes as you confirm the good news.

You also fear for a moment that he’s about to swoon, he goes so pale and he even starts to breath heavily as he paces back and forth, muttering ‘I… I’m going to be a father? A father? Me?’. His imposter syndrome would hit him with full force and it would take several weeks for him to process it enough to calm down and be excited rather than terrified. However, he’d never have been anything other than positive towards you. You know it’s his love for your unborn child that makes him panic about being a good father.

Also, he would be SO supportive once you are expecting. He would be there holding your hair back if you felt nauseous and bringing you endless cups of tea without you even asking.

He wouldn’t complain in the slightest about staying in with you, rather than going to whatever social events his family had organised. As he argued, it gave him ample time to finish whatever piece he was working on next and he got to keep you company in the meantime.

I just feel he’d paint something for the baby, whether it be a piece to hang on the wall of the nursery, or the wall of the nursery itself. You’d find him stood in front of the nursery wall, covered in paint, but beaming ear to ear.

“It’s beautiful, Benedict.”

“Well, our baby should be allowed to enjoy the full beauty of a spectrum of colours, rather than just ‘white’ on the walls - and the sooner they begin to understand the art of composition, the better in my opinion.”

You would also be receiving gifts from all your artistically minded friends, which is heart-warming. They’d crown them their newest ‘little liberal’ and would devote themselves to ensuring your off-spring would have a well-rounded eduction about the higher arts of life - something Benedict is keen to endorse.

“When are they not ‘too young’ to have an art tutor?”

“Maybe wait till they can hold a paint brush first, Benedict.”

“What about poetry?”

“Again, I think they should probably learn the alphabet before we try them on Wordsworth or Donne.”

Given what he says in his book I know he’d secretly want a girl but you know that as long as it’s happy and healthy then that would be enough. After all, it would be yours, made from your love in a living, breathing creation greater than any painting or sculpture.

He would be awe struck when you hand them to him, afraid he might break them somehow. He would just sit and stare at them for hours, admiring them like the finest sculpture.

“I promise to be the best possible father you could ever want, my love. I will do whatever I can to protect you and make you, and your mother, feel cherished. I won’t let you down… even if you turn out like most of your Uncles and have no idea what the difference is between a sonata and a sonnet.”

#ithebookhoarder #masterlist #thesilentmage #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #benendict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton

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shusora · 14 hours

Text

ACADEMIC WEAPON ! — GETO SUGURU

warning! this drabble contains smut (18+ content). minors do not interact. tags: college au + teasing, education while doing the nasty, squirting, explicit language

"s-suguru," you call out his name, your face flushed incarnadine as you feel his hands travel lower south. you didn't expect it, nor did you hate it – but, your grade is on the line here! you asked the model student and your boyfriend, geto suguru, to tutor you in the subject he knew best. however, all that led to was you pressed against his back while his large hands wandered out and about on your body.

"you're s'pposed to be helping me with physio..!" you whine beneath his teasing touches. "you're being so unfair right nowww."

"oh, but i am." suguru replies, his voice muffled as he presses his lips against the nape of your neck, licking against your soft skin; your breaths growing more heavy the more bold he becomes.

"you're struggling the most with the topic of hormones, no? i can help you with that first." your boyfriend sends you a close-eyed smile, the tips of his fingers tracing against the curves of your waist. you can only nod your head, anticipating his next actions with a coalescence of embarrassment and sheer arousal clouding your heavy gaze.

being an academic weapon can wait, for now.

as if suguru can read your mind, he says: "this is a part of the lesson, you should still focus and listen closely to what i'm about to teach you."

"ugh, fuck sugu. you're turning me on already." you whimper. the idea of your boyfriend teaching you physiology through means of sexual intimacy? at this point, you simply wanted to get fucked silly.

laughing, suguru shakes his head from behind you. "you still gotta focus, pretty girl. you need to get a seventy-five to pass the class, yeah?"

you roll your eyes, "and this is going to help me pass the class, sugu?"

"you always told me you were the type to learn things better hands-on," suguru said, "plus, i think i'm pretty good at teaching."

"you better not have been doing this type of teaching to other girls then," you huff and suguru laughs, embracing you from behind while he nuzzles his face against your neck. "i promise, you're the only one receiving this type of tutoring."

you laugh, but all that changed into an abrupt gasp when he slides his hand underneath your shirt and bra, his large hands cupping your breasts. you lean your head back against your boyfriend; you want to be closer to him; you want to feel more of him.

"i've only touched your breast and you're reacting like this already," geto coos in your ear, "you dirty girl."

suguru geto is the type of student that many parents would compare their children to; he's kind, ambitious, hard-working, and wickedly intelligent -- plus, he's got the looks that would make anyone swoon. however, albeit his angelic personality, you discovered shortly after dating him that he is a lot more perverted than you’ve initially thought.

you bite your lip, relishing in the pleasurable sensations from his light and teasing grazes. "did your professor teach you about the hormones released when you're feeling horny?"

"probably," you huff, "but it definitely isn't in the way you're describing it now."

"that's true," geto nods his head, "i'll make sure that you'll understand it better now."

flinching slightly, you glance down at his hands, which are sneaking underneath the soft fabric of your sweatpants; the pads of his fingers pressing against the dampened spot over your underwear.

"hm? look at this." geto pulls his hands away, revealing your wetness glistening on his fingertips. "i barely did anything and you're this wet for me."

your cheeks flush in sheer embarrassment, "t-that's because you're being a fuckin' tease!"

"there's three hormones that affect your sexual desire, and they're mainly responsible for the mess between your legs. not me." geto smiles as he ignores your words of dismay, there is a hint of mischievousness etched in his lips. "ingrain this in your mind. estrogen, progesterone, and testosterone."

estrogen, progesterone, and testosterone. you gulp softly and attempt to repeat those three hormones in your mind. estrogen, progesterone, and testosterone – they affect sexual desire and arousal. you are far too deep into relaying those three words into your mind to even notice his hands slowly sneaking back in underneath your shirt, catching you in surprise when the pads of his fingers suddenly rub against your erect bud. you squeak your boyfriend's name in surprise.

you can feel his warm and heavy breaths from the nape of your neck, and you absolutely cannot deny that those three hormones: estrogen, progesterone and testosterone are doing the absolute most between your legs.

"remember what prolactin is?" geto questions you, his breath warm against your neck as he continues to tease your erect nipples; his fingertips softly twirling the little buds. you squeeze your legs together and close your eyes shut. "i-it's the hormone responsible for l-lactation – that's too easy."

"good girl, seems like i don't need to teach you about that after all." geto praises you, giving you a small peck on the cheek; his hands trailing lower and lower, and you rush to remove your sweatpants before his hands can reach your underwear.

"cutie is already waiting for a reward, how adorable."

"am not! for your information, i'm just making it easy access."

"hmm. whatever you say." geto says in a soft sing-song tone before bringing his hands to stretch your legs apart, locking your legs in place with his feet. "say, do you remember what the three hormones responsible for arousal are? tell me right now."

"estrogen," you begin, but your voice takes a slight pause when you feel his index finger sliding underneath your underwear; your breath then begins to hitch. his thick and long finger slides against your slick folds, he still awaits your answer. "there's two more, my love."

"p-progesterone," you continue, but this time you're beginning to lose control with your voice; your breath growing all the more shaky and heavy as he prods the tip of finger in and out of your gaping hole. you attempt to stifle a moan when he enters his whole index finger inside, relishing in the way he stretches your walls. "hahhhh," you sigh against his touch, "a-and t...testoster...one – AH!"

your answer is immediately rewarded with his other hand pressed against your clit, rubbing firm circles as he fucked your walls with his index and middle finger from the opposite hand. a string of moans fall past your lips, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as geto's pace with his fingers remains relentless. if he keeps up with this pace, you're convinced he's going to make you cum fast.

"you're soaking my fingers so well, my pretty girl."

you throw your head back against geto's chest, looking up at him with a pleading look in your eyes, your lips swollen from you constantly biting down on them to control the load moans that threaten to leak past your lips.

"tell me what you're feeling right now, my love." geto's says, his voice low in a whisper – yet you can tell how aroused he is; the look in his eyes says it all.

"i-i feel so fucking good, sugu – i wan' more." you moan, rocking your hips desperately against his fingers.

"yeah?" geto smirks, flicking his finger softly yet rapidly against your swollen clit; he revels in the way your walls clamp down on his fingers immediately in response and you hum desperately. "i need your dick inside me, suguruuu. please."

"as much as i wanna give it to you especially since you asked me so nicely, our lesson is still ongoing."

this fucking guy.

"t-there's no way im going to retain information anyway since we're doing these things," you complain, "i want you so badly, sugu."

"eh? but you were doing such a great job earlier, my love. i'll pleasure you good once we're all done, okay?"

you can barely pay attention to his words, your body thrashing against his as you feel your release nearing.

"when you orgasm, a hormone called oxytocin gets released. that same hormone produced in the hypothalamus gets released even when you kiss someone you love." those words slip past geto's mouth as if it were honey, and his face nears yours. "if you were paying attention instead of looking so dazed, i'm sure you'll be able to repeat the words i had just said."

"you're going to be the death of me," you whine, feeling the frustrated tears well up in your eyes. you want to get dicked down so bad, but this man still wants to teach you about hormones while fingering the hell out of you?! "the hy..pothalamus produces a hormone called oxy..oxytocin that gets released after kissing someone a-and after an orgasm."

geto curls his fingers inside you, and you curl your toes immediately as a cry slips past your lips. "o-oh my g-god. f-feels so good...!"

he absolutely loves the way you crumble underneath his touches; the way you get so needy and desperate for him is enough to rile him up like crazy, but playing with you is far too much fun.

"do you think your oxytocin levels will spike up like crazy when we do this?" questions geto, and before you are able to mutter a single response – the merciless pace of his fingertip flickering against your swollen clit paired with his fingers curling inside your pussy has your whole entire body spasming against his broad chest, while your lips are covered with his lips; geto's tongue intertwined with yours to mask the plethora of moans that are about to erupt from your mouth.

you feel as though your brain is about to go numb from the immense pleasure you're going through – your legs are locked in place with his feet as his hands pleasing you the way he knows best while his soft lips are locked into yours; the subtle taste of the mint bubblegum he threw out moments ago lingers on your lips. you feel it coming, your release; the warmth broiling in the pits of your lower abdomen is becoming too much for you too bear – especially with how your boyfriend is pleasing you, you are more than certain that something more is threatening to erupt.

the sounds of lips smacking against one another paired with muffled moans and the lewd noises of his fingers doing their work on your slick pussy resonates across the bedroom. you can feel his erection twitching from behind you, but as much as you want to touch him down there – he simply won't allow you, at least not yet. you grind your ass against the tent beneath his sweatpants softly, and he groans against your lips.

"you're getting so fuckin' tight around my fingers, my love." geto smirks against your lips, his fingers continuing to curl against your sweet spot as you roll your eyes back in immense pleasure. "you like it when i rub your clit and finger you while i make out with you? you're such a needy fuckin' girl."

"i-i'm s-so close, sugu," you whimper out, "i-im gonna cum – i'm gonna cum...!"

you grip tightly onto your boyfriend's thigh, your back arched as your orgasm finally washes over you; spurts of liquid leaving your pussy with each thrust geto's fingers fucked into you, forming a small puddle beneath your trembling legs.

"hah," you breathe heavily, leaning your head against his chest as he whispers words of praise, leaving a trail of kisses along your neck and collarbone. “o-oxytocin… hormone released after… hah…coming”

"that's my good fuckin' girl," geto coos in your ear, and his low voice immediately shoots arousal down your heat once more. you reach your hand out to the large bulge tucked beneath his sweatpants, but geto stops you with a teasing grin.

"let's start with the actual lesson now. what happened just now was merely a warm-up."

#ੈ✩‧˚sora’s creations #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu geto #geto smut #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #geto drabble #suguru smut #anime smut

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cbrownjc · 2 days

Text

On EP 2x03

So yeah, that wasn't my favorite episode of the season so far, but not bad. And I laughed my head off at the flashback at the beginning when Armand was telling Daniel about his "relationship" with Lestat. Really, I could not stop laughing during almost that whole thing. And yes, that very much does come from me having read the books and so knowing how that all really went down.

Seriously though, when Armand and Lestat started kissing in that balcony box -- with Nicki shooting them death glares as he played his violin! --I was doubled over in laughter! 🤣

Oh Armand, you so wish that was how it all happened. I'm not even mad he lied about almost all of that because his unrequited love/desire for Lestat does tend to make Armand act kind of pathetic.

But yeah, a nice story you told Daniel there, and clearly have told Louis at some point as well. I mean, it's not like there is anyone around to contradict you or call BS on any of it is there? 😏

Claudia, dear . . . when you heard that line about children can never be made vampires . . . are you now beginning to see the danger for yourself? After having missed the danger signs last week? Especially after they gave you that little baby dress. Although, maybe you think not being a child but a young teen excuses you, since they didn't kill you on sight. But there is for sure disillusionment settling in isn't there? Especially when they gave you that baby dress.

Louis . . . oh Louis. You pretty much are headed toward where your book counterpart ended up wrt Armand next episode, I suspect. (And yeah I knew he was actually killing a human when he started beating Dreamstat's head against that wall).

Daniel, Raglan James, and the Talamasca intrigued me the most wrt this episode Yes, I actually paused the screen and tried to read the names on the files James sent to him. Right now I most want to know if James is still in the Talamasca or if they've already kicked him out.

All in all, this episode was mostly set up for things coming in the next three episodes, leading into the final two. And I'm glad Assad had already let slip that Armand's full backstory would come in a later season during the press tour, or I might have gone into this episode with different expectations about the opening flashback. Because Armand's true, and full, backstory is much weightier than what we saw here, even with the glimpse at the Children of Darkness stuff. (And I'm so glad they called it the Children of Darkness -- its original name in the books -- in the show btw. I'm sorry, I think the Children of Satan name would have been a bit too camp.)

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gabessquishytum · 2 days

Note

Modern arranged marriage AU. (CW death threats)

Dream is a prince. Not the heir, but he's the prince of THE royal family, and with so many scandals tied to his name, he's got an ultimatum. Either he marries and settles down in privacy somewhere far, far away, or they send him far, far away on a "mission" to "help", and if he happens to die out there, well, the family can be publicly very sad about it.

Hob has joined the army as soon as he possibly could, while he was practically still a boy, due to being an orphan and wanting somewhere to fit in. He's been whisked from one modern war to another for years. He retired from the army at one point when his wife, also from the army, was expecting their second, but we all know what happened to Hob's family. Alone once more, he shamefully returned to the army.

When Hob finally earns a high enough rank and enough medals and rewards to retire for good (it's not like he ever LIKED the army), he earns himself one last medal, given to him by queen Night herself. Night sees a great opportunity in this still quite young (going on his 40's) retiring soldier. She asks him to marry her son and offers a large sum of money and a mansion as a competition. While Hob thinks it's fucked up, he's still a protector and hero at heart and accepts the offer just so the prince doesn't have to marry someone not as kind as him.

You know what? I'm making this omegaverse because I want to. Turns out they are true mates. They find out at the wedding ceremony - Dream goes crazy for Hob's scent (he's been a soldier for so long that he smells like gunpowder, sand, and protection) and Hob almost pops a boner at his own wedding ceremony when he smells Dream (old books, dust, softness). Dream has one last scandal when they pounce on each other in the car right after the ceremony and don't arrive to the reception, but then they are allowed to live in privacy happily ever after.

- 🚒

I do love a true mates story, and this is really absolutely adorable - I love the idea of older, slightly grizzled and world weary alpha!Hob stepping up to protect the younger omega prince.

When Dream was informed that he'd basically been sold off to some old war hero, he despaired - he was imagining some horrid old creep like Lord Burgess. So he's pleasantly surprised at the sight of Hob, who stands nervously in his old ceremonial uniform. He's got lovely brown sun-drenched skin, greying hair, and kindly eyes. Dream’s heart softens even before he catches Hob’s scent - that's when he goes a bit weak at the knees. Dream has had many lovers of all kinds (that's why he's being married off) but he's never felt such an urge building within his body. He might actually be in love, and he hasn't even made eye contact with the man yet.

During the ceremony they touch hands, and Dream has sneakily removed his gloves so that he gets to touch Hob skin-to-skin. He almost moans. Hob’s hands are big and warm and rough, and Dream actually has to hang on tight just in case his legs do actually give out. Hob winks at him cheekily, and squeezes his hand when they walk together back down the aisle.

They do pounce on each other in the car, but not before Dream feels the need to hurriedly come clean about all his shortcomings - how he's not a virgin, he's not sure if he wants children, he's prone to terrible mood swings - of course Hob just smiles and kisses him very softly. He wouldn't mind if Dream was the devil. They're true mates, and Hob is hardly perfect either. He just wants a chance to be happy.

The sex in the car is very good, as demonstrated by the way the vehicle rocks alarmingly back and forth while all the windows steam up. The video clips circulate for days, and honestly? The public are pretty damn thrilled to see Prince Dream and his dilf husband getting their fairytale ending <333

#🚒 anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw omegaverse

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faulty-writes · 3 days

Note

HIII!!! My dear, favorite tenya writter.

Could i please request some headcanons of iida with a very poor childhood friend? Like, they met when reader was trying to trade a penny for his whole aah school backpack or something 😭

(By the way, just so you know, i am currently reading every single tenya fanfic you have ever wrote)

((i am so normal about him))

Awe, I'm so glad I can be your favorite Tenya writer. I would love to write another AU one shot featuring him, but I can't think of any solid plotlines. Eventually, I'll get there. But this request sounds adorable. I hope I did it justice.

Tenya took pride in the Iida family name, but he was never one to flaunt his high status until he met you. The ragged clothes you wore caught his attention, as did the way you were staring at him and your attempted trade-off of his backpack and supplies for one yen coin.

"It's quite alright. If I wish to be like my elder brother, I will provide aid to you." His family legacy of heroes was something he took seriously, and as such, he helped provide financial aid for your school supplies, clothing, and on occasion meals.

You tried to repay him for the good deeds he provided by giving him handwritten cards, self-made crafts, and subtle signs of affection. He seemed appreciative of them, but you vowed to repay him more properly one day.

"You are capable of achieving whatever you desire. However, if you need assistance, I would be honored to aid you." Being low-class, you didn't have a lot of dreams because reality was nothing but a nightmare. But Tenya always encouraged you to pursue your ambitions, even if the two of you were small compared to this big world.

While Tenya wasn't popular, he had more friends than you and it was assumed this was because of his high-class status. Still, he always invited you to do activities with his other friends and made sure that they weren't rude to you. If by chance they were, he'd speak up and request they apologize for mistreating you.

"It's quite fine if you require some time to properly express how you feel." On occasion, Tenya would find you isolating yourself and recognized this typically happened when you were emotionally overwhelmed, and he tried to offer comfort and support. Most of the problems were related to your social status and poor home life.

You were grateful that you created memories with Tenya. Although being children, it was hard to tell what the future brought. Still, the days you spent eating lunch together, playing in the sand, and being pushed on the swing were something you knew you would treasure for the rest of your life.

#tenya x reader #iida x reader #tenya x y/n #iida x y/n #tenya iida x reader #iida x you #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #bnha x self insert #fauly writes: tenya iida: 24 #faulty writes: tenya iida: headcanons: 24

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heroictoonz · 2 days

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I’m not the biggest Wu enjoyer ever in fact most the time in private friend servers and dms with close pals I joke about hating him and wanting him out the show I’ll admit to that. But like. I do think about the moments that probably were but never shown. I honestly think about Wu a lot

I think about Wu alone in the monastery with Cole, the first Ninja he recruited. A young man who was still grieving his mother even after all this time and in his own way, maybe unknowingly, grieving his father as well. I think about Wu possibly finding Cole constantly training in the main area at all hours of the day and night just to keep his hands busy. Wu sitting with him and maybe even being nervous to say anything to him. His last pupil he drove away. What if he did the same to this one? His last pupil was like a son to him and he screwed it all up and has to live with that on his hands and yet, here he is, trying it all over again, praying to the ghost of his father and anything in the heavens that will listen that he doesn’t make the same mistakes again. Maybe he sits quietly with Cole, not stopping him but letting him silently know that he isn’t alone no matter how long the monastery halls seem to feel. Bringing Cole water or a snack even when they both should be asleep. Finally, at one point, having the courage to tell him that he should sleep more. That if he wanted to talk, about anything at all, that Wu would be an ear to listen. I wonder if Cole would talk to Wu about any of it. Maybe not about it all. But maybe bits and pieces of his frustration and anguish that was clearly haunting him in those early days. I think that Wu’s words might even be enough to calm some of that in him. Maybe not all of it, and maybe Cole still pushes himself to keep away feelings and thoughts he can’t handle, but he sleeps more. He rests more. He takes breaks with Wu and has tea with him.

I think about Jay joining and being probably really skeptical about the whole thing. Probably distant with Cole cause he doesn’t know this guy. I think about Wu bringing in this second pupil, knowing by now that he was building a team that he would have to train not just in the ways of spinjitsu and their elements but also train them to be one with each other in battle. An anxious Wu trying desperately to get the two to talk and just hang out if even just for a meal or two. Wu bringing them together and having them build not just their strength and skills but their trust in each other too. Wu probably asks Jay about his parents. Seeing how Morro and Cole’s family backgrounds were he probably feared a trend settling in. Maybe Wu is plesently surprised when Jay tells him about his loving, though kinda embarrassing and smothering, parents. His parents who, even after moving out, he still writes to and stays in contact with as much as possible cause he doesn’t want them to worry. Maybe Wu smiles when Jay tells him that he’ll probably meet them someday.

I think it was very soon after that Wu found Zane. I think about Wu asking the people of that village about the strange boy who wondered their town alone, memoryless. With nothing to him but a name and a kind heart. Wu finding him and giving him a funny surprise in that lake. Pulling Zane out and offering him and permanent home. Maybe even catches the words in his throat as he feels the similarities between Zane and Morro. Strange orphaned children with nothing but their names and the clothes on their backs. Promising them a forever home. He hopped this one he could keep that promise. He’d do anything to keep that promise. Wu bringing Zane to the others, a little worried at first knowing that Zane was already very different from most people. Cole and Jay, where getting along better now, were still full of bite and fight. If he weren’t careful he would be putting this poor boy into the lions den. It goes better than he expects. Zane fits in easily with the other two. Wu is almost surprised by it, but thankful nonetheless. But this is where his real challenges begin. Training the three together, coaxing them to be more than just teammates. Knowing that it wouldn’t be enough. That they needed to trust each other implicitly. Maybe he was thinking about the tornado of creation, knowing that unless these three (and the fourth that he was still searching for) would need to be in near perfect harmony to pull off such a feat. But that they would need it in their coming battles.

I think about Wu holding back tears when he walks in to see the three goofing off. Yes they were meant to be working (maybe chores or training) but they were goofing off. They were getting along. Acting as friends and companions. And both Cole and Jay continued to argue but it was less like strangers and more like family. (They occasionally would remind Wu of him and his own brother from a long, long time ago.) I wonder how much pride Wu felt when he noticed that Cole and Jay were attempting to help Zane when he didn’t seem to catch up or understand something in a social or emotional situation. Even if they did throw in a few friendly insults at the poor boy here and there. Wu probably got a good laugh of the three pulling pranks on each other. Cole and Jay coming up with some to try and ease Zane into the concepts of practical jokes and being rightfully surprised when the future ice ninja got them back just as good.

I especially think about Wu when he meets Kai. Young and angry and a spark just waiting to ignite and explode. Violent and uncontrollable. And a spitting image of Ray. I wonder if Wu thought of his old friend when he saw Kai. The soft way he mentions the man in their conversation about the golden weapons. I wonder how much Wu misses his old friends and if he mourned them at the same time Kai and Nya did seemingly worlds apart and still shedding twin tears under one moon. I think about Wu feeling a frustration with Kai he’d probably never felt before. He sighs when he’s alone in his room. His head is his hands. “Father, how would you teach someone who seems so unreachable?” He would ask to no one. He would run his hands over his face and try to remember if Morro was this stubborn. But Morro had only become stubborn later in his trainings when his arrogance and drive for power blinded him. Kai was born stubborn and arrogant it seemed. Wu might even smile with exasperation and wonder to himself ‘how did Ray and Maya raise such a child?’

I think about Kai distancing himself from the rest like how Jay once did. Throwing himself into his training like how Cole once did. A young man alone and lost in the world as how Zane once was. Seeing so clearly how he clung to his sister and had a drive like no other to get her back. Maybe Wu even worried that after they rescued Nya that Kai would leave. That he would see no use in sticking around. Wu doubted that this soon encounter with his brother would be the last. Maybe Wu saw much of Morro in Kai and felt something almost like fear. Fear of losing Kai to a similar fate? Fear of Kai being pushed away when all Wu wanted to do was bring him close to the rest of them? Maybe even a fear that the shadows of his past would keep him from meaningfully connecting with Kai like he tried to do with the other three.

I think abut Wu bringing Kai tea. Wu pulling Kai in to eat and train with the other three. Wu trying to take the lessons he had learned from all this time and help Kai transition into the team. And similarly, help the rest of the team transition into including Kai. Kai was full of just as much bite and fight as Cole and Jay when they first met, maybe more. Definitely more. But Wu wasn’t going to give up on him. I think about Wu catching quiet moments of Kai’s sorrow. What he normally covered up in anger but sometimes was too weak to do so. Wu sitting next to him and telling him stories about when he and his brother were growing up. About how the loss of their father affected them. About how the loss of his brother affected him. Maybe Kai would snap at him. Telling him that they were nothing alike. That Wu couldn’t understand. Maybe Kai says something harsher. Says that at least Nya wasn’t trying to destroy the world. That he would get Nya back. That Nya wasn’t some evil freak. And Wu would let every word slide off him like water. Because he knew Kai was just angry. He knew Kai would be angry for a while.

I think about when they get Nya back. When Wu officially introduces himself to her. I wonder if he knew she was the water element right then and there. Did he know that she would one day show signs. I wonder if he has his suspicions but decided to wait and see. The elements are tricky things. They do not always do as expected. I think about Wu noticing just how equally as stubborn Nya is as Kai but how much better she tried to mask it.

I wonder if Kai ever apologized to Wu for how he acted. I think about Wu stopping him and reassuring him that it was nothing to worry about. Wu knew he was just upset for the fate of his sister. Wu was just thankful all turned out well in the end.

I think abut Kai and Cole both seeing a father figure in Wu that the other two probably don’t connect with as much. Maybe Cole is a bit more open about it than Kai. I wonder if, when Wu realizes this, if it worries him. Morro haunts him like a ghost. His greatest regret. In a life of mistakes the one he mourns the most. I’ll always wonder how much Morro’s impact on Wu’s life haunts his days with his new students. Maybe the ninja see Wu have his own silent moments. Days he can’t hide his own sadness. Whether for Morro or his brother. Maybe even both. Maybe even days when he remembers Aspheera or the other elemental masters. So many friends that he lost along the way.

Maybe the ninja try to cheer him up and be with him the same way Wu would for them. They bring him tea, offer to take him with them out to the city for their weekly run, ask him to tell them stories about the first spinjitsu master or about Wu’s old travels and adventures. Wu knows what they’re doing, but he lets them do it all the same.

I think about how Wu was probably constantly worried about Lloyd’s safety and health. He knew his mother had left him at that school. I wonder if Wu was against it or not. I wonder how often Wu would think about Lloyd, alone, festering in what would only become feelings of abandonment. Would Wu realize that? Or would he be just as blind to it as Lloyd’s well meaning (yet still wrong) parents? I think about Wu grabbing his dear nephew into a hug when they first reunited. Tucking him in and reading him that story. I think about Wu maybe even sitting Lloyd down and trying to talk to him about his parents. Especially his father. I don’t think it’d go over that well but I think he might try.

I think about Wu maybe feeling nostalgic when Garmadon was with them to rescue Lloyd. It must have been so, so long since the two were on a quest or adventure of some kind. Maybe he regrets the joy he feels or even hardly has the time to feel it knowing that Lloyd is in so much danger.

I wonder how much guilt Wu holds. I think about him regretting so much before the ninja and then even more so regretting being so closed off about it all and not saying anything before it’s all too late. “There was something I never told you.” “I should have told you all this long ago.” Keeping his past a secret probably out of shame or a fear of history repeating itself, only for it to cause his new family such distress and trouble. Learning the hard way that his past would always come back for him. From Morro to the Hands of Time all the way to Aspheera. I wonder if Wu regrets not being the one to tell Lloyd the truth about his heritage. Maybe he assumed Garmadon would have. Maybe he thought it was best for the young leader to not have to worry abut such things until once again it was far too late.

I think about Wu mourning his bother over and over and over again. Sometimes with Lloyd, sometime with Misako, but many, many, many times completely alone. In the silence of his own grief and regrets. I wonder if he ever sees himself and Garmadon in Nya and Kai. Or even just in the ninja as a whole. Not an exact one to one but seeing them be a family, watching them go on quests together, I wonder how often he thinks of his brother in those moments.

I think about Wu rebuilding a family and maybe not even immediately recognizing he did just that.

#holy shit thi sgot really long but ive been thinking about this stuff for a whil also its 2am #ninjago #master wu #lord garmadon #lloyd garmadon #kai jiang #kai smith #cole brookstone #nya jiang #nya smith #zane julien #jay walker #morro #i have so much to say about ninjago always and forever #even the characters i dont really like all that much I still could write essays about them #toonz talks

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tswaney17 · 3 days

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I Do Bad Things with You - Epilogue

@elriel-month | Tropes & AUs

The offical end is here! I cannot believe it! 😩 For nearly four years, this has been a part of my life and to say that it is finally finished, wrapped up with a nice little bow is such an overwhelming feeling. Whether you were with me from the very beginning or just recently joined, thank you for encouraging me to continue this story. It will always hold a special place in my heart, along with you. 💕

Also, I had an alternate ending, but couldn't get my gear into writing it. It was the complete opposite of this one, so consider yourselves lucky. 😘

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Catch up here.

Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘

Trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault , language, NSFW

Word Count: 4,039

Four years later.

~~~~~

Elain woke with the rising sun, the distant sound of ocean waves crashing along the beach filled her ears. Her husband’s sturdy presence was at her backside, his warmth washing over her and creating a sense of blissful calm.

She loved waking in the cradle of his embrace, his possessive need to hold her as close as possible even in his sleep. They never slept apart while sharing a bed, always managing to drape themselves around the other.

Some may have called their relationship co-dependent, but Elain knew it was because of all they had been through. How the world tried and tried again to rip them apart that the thought of being separated was unbearable. Their touch reassured the other that they were still here, still with them. And she loved that bond they had over it.

Turning in his arms, she began placing soft kisses over his bare chest, trailing her lips up to the sensitive spot on his neck.

His arms tightened around her as he let out a contented humming sound. Gorgeous, golden eyes blinked open, his mouth curling up at the corner. “Good morning, my beautiful wife.”

She huffed a laugh. “Good morning, birthday boy.”

A deep, rumbling sound vibrated from the center of his chest. “Birthday boy, eh?”

Elain pressed her lips on the tattoo of her name on his pec, their children’s names having been added to the swirls of ink surrounding hers. She had something similar running along the left side of her ribcage. Ruhn had done an incredible job with the bouquet of peonies. A large, fully blossomed one with Azriel’s name carefully scripted within the petals, and three partially blossomed ones with Kaden, Ryder, and Rosalie’s names blooming around his.

The work was intricate and beautiful and she absolutely loved it—even if it hurt like a total bitch when she got it last year.

“Yeah, birthday boy. You know the day that comes around once a year to celebrate all things you?” she teased.

A large, scarred hand threaded through her hair, pulling her in for a slow, sensual kiss. Azriel’s tongue slipped between her lips, caressing hers in a way that had heat building low in her belly. “How about birthday breakfast?” he breathed against her mouth.

Without giving her a chance to respond, he hooked a leg over her hip, flipping them until Elain’s back hit the mattress. She let out a yelp, swiftly followed by a blissful sigh as he made his way down her bare body, licking and sucking at her soft skin. “Azriel,” she breathed huskily, her fingers threading through his thick hair.

Her husband peppered kisses down her torso, making sure his lips paused at every pregnancy marker on her body; every stretchmark still visible on her stomach. He always made sure to show her just how beautiful she was.

“Fuck, I love when you say my name like that,” he murmured into the junction of her left thigh. His teeth nipped at the tender flesh, leaving his mark right on the inside. Azriel still loved sprinkling her pale skin with his bruises and had become adept at placing them in places only he would see. Kaden had once inquired about the bruise on her neck not long after the twins were born, in front of their entire family, which then invited knowing smirks and questions about their sex life.

Elain had no desire to respond to those requests and neither did her husband.

Said husband who was currently sucking a matching love bite onto the inside of her other thigh, glanced up at her through his full lashes, a devil’s glint shining in his hazel eyes. His mouth hovered over her drenched slit, ready to devour her, when they heard one of the bedroom doors opening down the hallway.

He froze, gaze clashing with hers.

Soft feet padded to one of the other bedrooms and another door opened, followed swiftly by a third and the hushed voices of their children as the three of them made their way down the stairs.

“Shoo, guys,” Kaden reprimanded. “Mom and Dad will hear you.”

Twin giggles from their four-year-olds chased their elder brother down the hallway.

Elain sighed as Azriel let out a groan.

“Why are they up already?” he asked. The sun had just started to rise, and when she looked at the clock, she saw it was only a half past six in the morning.

She smiled softly at her husband, “They wanted to make you breakfast in bed—”

“I’m trying to eat my breakfast in bed,” he all but growled.

Elain smacked his shoulder, laughing. “You’re so bad.”

Those big, beautiful, strong hands flexed on her hips, squeezing her. “Don’t act like you don’t love it when I do bad things with you.”

She shook her head, still grinning. “I should probably go down there before they destroy our kitchen.”

“Kaden’s down there and responsible.”

A perfectly groomed brow rose. “Kaden against the twins?” She and Azriel adored all of their children. Wouldn’t change a single thing about them. But they were both quite surprised at how rambunctious Rosalie and Ryder were compared to their elder sibling. And mischievous too, always getting into things. They were quite the handful.

Her husband’s eyes widened in realization. “Fuck, yeah. You better get down there.”

At that, she laughed, attempting to detangle herself from his grasp.

But he held on tight, a knowing smirk raising the corner of his mouth. “But I want dessert later. And to ensure I get it…” his tongue delved between her legs, lapping at her wetness and then he sucked her clit between his teeth, guaranteeing that she would be desperate for release later.

A muffled moan passed between her parted lips. “You wicked, wicked man. You expect me to go all day like this?”

“You bet your pretty ass, I do.” Dropping another kiss to her sensitive clit, smacked her butt, before he rolled over, plopping down onto the pillow beside her.

Elain grumbled a few choice words as she climbed out of bed, grabbing suitable clothing to head downstairs. At the door, she pointed a finger at her husband. “You better pretend to be asleep when we come up here.”

He made a crossing motion over his heart. “Promise, baby girl.”

She could only roll her eyes, shutting the bedroom door behind her.

In the handful of minutes her children had on her, they still managed to ensue chaos in her kitchen.

“Momma!” Rosalie cried, running over and crashing into her legs. “Momma, Kaden won’t let me help!”

Elain lifted her onto her hip, eyeballing her son as he measured the ingredients for breakfast. “Kaden, let Rosalie help with the batter.”

“But Mom! She’s just making a mess!” he said exasperated.

She walked further into the kitchen, setting her daughter back on one of the stools at the counter, and ruffled her eldest’s hair. He was a neat freak like his parents. “Then show her how to make it. Help her. Don’t exclude her—Ryder, I know you’re not turning that stove on without me there,” she warned without even looking at her youngest son, already knowing his silence meant he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to be.

All three of their children loved to help in the kitchen, and they enjoyed teaching them things. But both she and Azriel had told them they were not allowed to use the stove without one of them present and standing right there with them. Being the eldest, Kaden had some leeway, but the twins knew better than to turn on the burner.

Elain spun around to face her guilty-looking son.

“Sorry, Momma.”

Forty-five minutes and one meltdown later, they were walking up the stairs with multiple trays toward her bedroom door. She shot Azriel a text to let him know they were on their way, but their kids’ attempt at being quiet would’ve alerted him before they even made it to the top of the stairs.

Ryder threw open the door just as all three kids shouted, “Happy birthday, Daddy!”

Azriel’s, bless that man, surprised “I was sleeping” face was so unbelievable, but they still ate it up, the twins running to climb on their bed as she and Kaden carried the three trays with their breakfast on them.

He let out a grunt, catching their daughter as she flung herself into his arms.

“Were you surprised, Daddy?” she asked, flashing those big brown eyes at him.

“So surprised,” he said, kissing her all over her face until she was squealing in delight. “Did you guys make me breakfast in bed?” Az questioned, winking at her.

Ryder was crawling into his lap, squeezing next to his sister. “We did, Daddy. I helped!”

He kissed the top of his son’s head. “Well, I can’t wait to eat it.” Those amber eyes turned on her. “I’m famished.”

Elain turned red from head to toe, but damn, did that comment send warmth running low in her belly. Fucker, she wanted to say, but just gave him a look that said to knock it off.

His lips turning up at the corner told her he absolutely would not.

They spent the next hour in their bed, eating and spending time together as a family, making an absolute mess, but Elain wouldn’t have traded that time for anything in the world.

Azriel’s only birthday request was to spend a week at their home in the Summer District. He wanted just quality time with his family, and Elain couldn’t agree more. Even though there was an agreement between him and his biological brothers, with three children, Azriel was still overly cautious in their protection—and hers, to be honest. The Moonbeam brothers often traveled with them, acting as protection detail in addition to being their kids’ uncles.

Elain was sitting in a low, sand chair under an umbrella on the beach, Connall a sturdy presence on her right. Her husband and two boys had wandered into the ocean, while Fenrys was helping Rosalie build a sandcastle.

She watched as her daughter clung to Fen’s leg near the shore before he swooped her into his arms and carried her into the shallow water.

Rosalie’s aversion to water was not born, but an accident that created a lasting traumatic response. She wouldn’t get into anything larger than a bathtub without an adult; not even her twin being able to coax her into facing her fear of water no matter how hard Ryder tried to.

Elain could still remember that day… There was something different when it came to fear for your children. She had been kidnapped, held hostage, attacked… But the fear she felt when Rosalie fell into the deep end of their pool was unlike anything Elain had ever experienced before. It was a raw, crippling kind of terror.

They were hosting an early spring barbeque with their siblings; all the kids engaged in a rousing game of tag on the lawn. Kaden led the pack, holding his littlest cousin’s hand. At only a year old, Nyx wasn’t able to keep up with the rest of them, but their eldest kept him by his side to ensure he got to play. And little Nyx’s squeals of delight told her he was having an absolute blast, even if he didn’t understand what was going on.

The first time one of the kids stepped onto the concrete surrounding the pool, she called out to them. “Stay off the concrete or you’re going to come sit down.”

Typically, the kids listened well when one of the adults told them to do something, and she could see them trying to avoid the non-grassy area. But in an attempt to avoid being tagged by Sutton, the twins split and then collided, sending Rosalie crashing into the chilled water.

Elain screamed her name, but Azriel reacted faster, running and launching himself into the pool, scooping their daughter as she slowly sank to the bottom. Cash beat her to the edge as Azriel and Rosalie emerged, waiting to help pull his niece out before handing her off to her mother.

She immediately started patting her back, getting Rosalie into a position on the ground to better cough out the water she inhaled. Her small body shook from the force, expelling every drop of liquid.

Azriel heaved himself from the pool and was at her side a second later, scarred hands fluttering around his daughter.

When her coughs turned to cries, Elain knew she’d be all right, the shock of what happened kicking in and causing the waterworks from her two-year-old. “Shhh, you’re okay, sweetheart,” she cooed, cradling her small body to her chest and rubbing her back.

“Should we take her in?” Az worried, those hazel eyes bright with fear as he inspected his baby girl for any injuries.

She shook her head. “I’ll grab my medical bag and check her out, but she should be fine.”

And she was, physically. Totally and completely fine. But when summer rolled around, they realized what, exactly, that experience had done to her. She and Azriel had worked hard to break the fear, but even two years later, it still stuck with her.

A little body crashing into her brought Elain back to the present. “Momma! Did you see the sandcastle Uncle Fen and I built?”

She kissed her plump cheek. “I did, sweetheart! You two built an amazing castle.”

“Mom?”

Elain turned her head to look up at Kaden, not having heard him approach. He was getting stealthy like his father. The furrow in his brow had her instantly on alert. “What is it, sweetie?”

He looked over his shoulder toward his dad and brother…and a woman. “Do you know her?”

She slid her sunglasses down her nose, eying the blonde who—just put a hand on her husband’s bicep. Azriel held Ryder tight on his hip, stepping back out of her reach. It was obvious from her son’s tone to the way he was watching the interaction that he was uncomfortable.

Elain lifted Rosalie off her lap and placed her on the blanket beside her chair. “Guys,” she said, addressing the Moonbeam brothers. “Watch the kids, please.” Without a backward glance, she made her way down the beach, plastering a fake smile on her face as she approached her husband.

“So, are you interested?” the woman asked just as Elain reached his side.

“Hello, husband,” she purred, sliding her left hand across his bare chest possessively, her diamond wedding ring sparkling in the sunshine. “Who’s your friend?”

The woman looked unamused, arms crossing and emphasizing her scantily-clad breasts. She was pretty, Elain wouldn’t lie. Perfect curves and a toned stomach. Not marred with stretch marks and the like from pregnancy that her body now bore.

But the thing is, Elain knew she had nothing to worry about when it came to her. Because Azriel loved every single thing about her body and more. He loved every line she bore from carrying their children. He kissed the scar on her thigh, the marks around her navel, the faint lines on her breasts. There was nothing he did not love about her.

So, she wore her earned markers proudly. Elain never hid who she was and what she had been through. And like hell would this woman, who was very obviously hitting on her husband, while he held one of their children, going to make her feel insecure about herself.

“Momma!” Ryder called out, reaching for her.

She happily took her son from Azriel, kissing his cheek. “Hello, sweet boy. Did you and Daddy have fun in the ocean?”

“I did, Momma! Water went up my nose!”

Elain laughed, kissing his button nose and taking Azriel by the hand. He brought their laced fingers to brush his lips across her knuckles, his gratitude shining in those hazel-colored eyes. She barely glanced back at the woman whom she could feel was glaring at her, muttering, “It was nice to meet you,” before tugging her man back toward the beach where their family had set up camp.

“Thank you,” he told her once they were out of earshot. “She wouldn’t take a hint and I didn’t want to be rude in front of the kids.”

She set Ryder back on his feet, telling him to head up to his siblings and wait for them. Once Elain was sure he was safe, she faced her husband. “I understand why you refrained from being rude in their presence, but I think this is an opportunity to teach our children about unwelcomed advances and how to handle them.”

So that they didn’t go through what she had.

Realization dawned on his face. Azriel swore, running a hand through his hair, his bicep flexing from the movement. “Fuck, you’re right. I should’ve made a point to address that in front of them.”

Elain reached out, placing her palm over his heart. “We can still use this experience to talk to them. I could tell Kaden was uncomfortable with her presence. The twins may be a little young, but I still think we should talk with them about what happened.” She wrapped her arms around his trim waist. “This is a learning opportunity for them.”

He smiled down at her, tucking her close and kissing her softly. “I love you,” he breathed onto her lips. Swooping down, Azriel threw her over his shoulder, making her squeal as he smacked her butt. “Come wife, I need to make sure my dessert is ready for me later.”

Gripping his hips, she laughed, shouting, “Put me down, prick!”

Az swung her back onto her feet, wrapping her against his chest and cupping the curve of her ass in his large hands. They were never afraid to show their affection for each other in front of their children, wanting them to grow up knowing they had parents who loved each other dearly. “Thank you for making this the best birthday.”

She grinned, mouth curling up at the corner. “Your birthday isn’t over yet, baby.” Not by a long shot.

His brow raised at the comment, but before he could ask, Kaden shouted, “Dad!”

Azriel didn’t take his eyes off her as he hollered back, “What?”

“Come quick! There’s a crab!”

“Don’t touch it!”

Because the last thing they needed was a crab pinching one of their fingers. “You better get over there. I don’t want to have to take one of them to the emergency room for stitches.”

“Why take them to the emergency room when their mother can patch them up even better?” He smirked, shooting her a wink before jogging back to their curious children.

Elain took a moment to just watch her husband and kids from afar, smiling at how beautiful they were. And she considered herself the damn luckiest person in the whole world.

~~~~~

Azriel had just finished putting the kids to bed, all three of them thoroughly exhausted after playing all day in the sun, and made his way to the kitchen where Elain stood, finishing up cleaning the dishes from the dessert she had made him. His arms slid around her waist, palms cradling her torso as he nudged her hair out of the way with his nose to kiss her neck.

She let out a contented breath, body melting into his embrace. “Did the kids go down okay?”

“The twins were out within minutes of my reading, and Kaden’s eyes were drooping on his book when I went to his bedroom. He didn’t last much longer.” He tightened his hold on her as she shut the dishwasher. “Thank you for all of this.”

Elain twisted, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Happy birthday, my love.” Her smile lit up her face, reminding him of just how damn lucky he was.

“Are we all good down here?” he asked her, hoping that they were.

Her head cocked to the side. “Yes, I’m finished cleaning up, w—what are you doing?” she squealed quietly as he lifted her into his arms, her legs automatically wrapping around his waist.

He flicked off the kitchen lights, carrying her up the stairs. “I want my birthday dessert.”

Elain shot him a dry look. “Azriel, I just gave you dessert.”

“Yes, and it was delicious. But now I want the dessert I was promised this morning.”

A finger trailed up the side of his throat, toying with the edge of his thick hair. “Oh? And what dessert is that, dear husband?”

He kicked their bedroom door shut behind them, locking it. “You, my darling wife.”

She let out a sound that was a cross between a laugh and a moan, his words always her undoing.

Az took a seat on the edge of their bed with every intention to undress her and place her sweet cunt right over his face, but Elain seemed to have other thoughts, pulling back to look at him.

“I have a birthday present for you, still.”

“I’m trying to get to my birthday present right now,” he muttered, sliding a hand beneath her dress to stroke her, his mouth moving to attach to her delicate collarbones.

Elain hummed in pleasure, eyes fluttering closed. “Not that present,” she murmured, huskily. Azriel knew exactly what his wife liked and where she liked it. Just a few more swipes of his tongue and she’d forget all about her other present and let him take her the way he wanted to.

But she was also very persistent, placing a palm on his chest to push him back. Her breath was already unsteady, dark eyes smoldering with heat. “Other present first. Then you can unwrap me.” She dropped a kiss on his nose, ignoring his groan of protest as she clambered off his lap and over to her dresser.

He leaned back on his hands, watching as she rooted around in one of the drawers until she procured a small box, wrapped in black paper with a cobalt ribbon.

Elain settled herself back onto his lap, a small smile tugging up the corner of her lips. “Happy birthday.”

Az frowned. “I thought I said no gifts.” Truly, the only gift he wanted was to spend time with his family. No interruptions. And that’s exactly what he got, so this additional present was a surprise.

“Yes, but you also got me that stunning tennis bracelet after I said the same, so I think this is fair. Besides, it’s not exactly a gift-gift per se.”

Well, that had his brows furrowing together. Carefully, he pulled the ribbon off, tearing at the wrapping without care. His eyes glanced up and saw his wife’s fingers steepled, pressing to her lips in anticipation.

Whatever was in the box was obviously very precious to her.

Casting his eyes down, Azriel opened the lid and revealed…

His gaze snapped to hers. “Are you serious?”

She dipped her head in confirmation, an infectious smile pulling at her mouth. Elain looked absolutely giddy.

Az’s throat tightened as he choked on his emotions. “El, we’re pregnant?”

Tears rolled down her cheeks, chin dipping in confirmation.

They had talked about having another baby, Elain having her IUD removed just a few months before. But he honestly didn’t expect them to get pregnant so quickly again. He pulled out the sonogram and let his fingers brush over the little blip that would grow into their fourth child.

And then his eyes traveled to the onesie. Azriel laughed loudly, lifting the small clothing from the box, the words, here we go again, scripted across the chest.

“I thought it was fitting,” Elain said softly, eyes bright with unshed tears.

He cupped her cheek, bringing her in for a slow, sweet kiss. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

His thump wiped under her lashes, catching the droplets as she murmured, “Happy birthday, Azriel.”

Words weren’t enough to thank her for this gift, this wonderfully, amazing, beautiful life he’d built with her. So, Azriel showed his wife just how much he loved her, over and over again. The perfect end to one chapter and the start of their next in life.

~~~~~

The End.

~~~~~

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hobbitsetal · 3 days

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The Hoard

The year the dragon came had been shaping up to be a bad one. The crops were barely adequate. The deer were skittish, the boar extra fierce, the fish sleepy and hard to reach. The old folks in the village predicted a hard winter, predictions born of fear and grief and anger that boiled down into pessimism.

Inada, as the village leader, tried to counter such talk, but there was little she could say. The food would be stretched thin at best. The old and the very young were likely to die. All she could do was squirrel away extra portions where she hoped Trovar’s men would not think to look, and pray she could save some lives in the winter.

At the end of the summer, he came. They saw his shadow first: big as a cloud, almost to be mistaken for a cloud’s shadow. But no cloud had those curved wings or that long tail, and they knew what he was before he landed and changed shape and strode into their village. He was tall, dark-haired and golden-eyed, and he was surprisingly young. Inada had sons grown and older than he, she thought.

Dragons lived to be five hundred years or more. But after all, before one could be five hundred years, one must be ten and twenty and thirty. Perhaps it should not have been so surprising that he looked no more than twenty summers, if he had reached even that many.

They watched, huddling in doorways, stopped at their work, clutching their children, as he walked through the long street and the square in the middle of the village where they traded when the peddler caravans passed through. His arrogantly lifted head swiveled, taking in the shabby village and the silent inhabitants watching him.

What reason could he have for coming to their village? They’d heard of dragons taking over lands, of course. Anywhere west of Elbiss, where they had driven the dragons out and hunted them now with frost weapons and relentless hatred, anywhere else might fall prey to a dragon. Some ate humans. Some enslaved them and forced them to produce whatever the dragon chose to hoard. Some, the less powerful, especially since Elbiss had cast them off six hundred years ago, lived among humans as ordinary citizens. Not every dragon could be a tyrannical ruler, it seemed.

There was nothing in this village to rule over, even if this one meant to be a tyrant. They didn’t have so much as a name for their village. They lived near no mines, gold or ores or jewels. Their forests were not unusually rich with game or fish. No mythic beasts lived near that anyone knew of. They were not renowned for crops or goods. The only unusual feature to their village was the twice-yearly visits from Trovar and his men, but even that was not so remarkable. Small villages with no protector often fell prey to bandits.

So they watched and braced themselves to learn this dragon ate humans.

He sniffed the air and then turned toward Inada, gold eyes boring into her. “You. You are responsible for this place?”

She curtsied immediately and kept herself from falling to her knees. Better not to kneel. If she had to beg, she wanted someplace to lower herself to. “Yes, my lord.”

“It’s shabby.”

What did he care? Dragons never lived where others did. Still, all she could say was, “Yes, my lord.”

“You are not a knight protector. What are you?”

“I-I am…a weaver?” As with everyone else in the village, she was what was needed at the moment. They all tended little vegetable crops, they all fished, they all wove. Some, like Alma, were better at things like twisting flax fibers together. Some, like old Gregoire, were better at fishing. But they all did whatever needed to be done. They were too tiny to have specialists in the different trades, though she would have liked to have been a weaver.

He snorted impatiently, smoke clouding around his head. “You have those among you young enough to breed. Why does your village not flourish more? Are you lazy?”

Indignation choked her a moment, overriding her fear. Lazy? “We are a tiny village, my lord,” she said. “How can we thrive when those stronger than us come to take the best of what we have?”

Of all the irony, a dragon demanding why they did not flourish was too bitter to be borne.

“You have no one at all to stand up for you?” He turned as he spoke, casting the question–the challenge–out to the rest of the village. No one met his eyes.

Inada swallowed down tears and rage together, dropping her own gaze to the dust. “What do you want from us, my lord?” she asked quietly.

What would anger get but a village reduced to ash? What would resistance earn them but bones and perhaps one person left to bury them? Making herself sound humble, making herself bend her head and round her shoulders was not hard when she had done the same for the lesser threat of Trovar and his men.

“Bah,” he said, and turned away. A dozen steps from her took him to a clear space. He leaped into the air and changed as he leapt. The wind from his wings staggered her and sent up a great cloud of dust.

And then he was gone, leaving them baffled and a little dirtier than they had been. Slowly, the villagers trickled toward Inada, necks craned to track the dragon.

“Will he come back?” Hella asked.

“I don’t know,” Inada said.

A restless murmur ran through the crowd. Eventually, they shuffled away, different scattered groupings muttering the same fears and wonders and answerless questions to each other. Inada went back to weeding her garden with her forehead furrowed. Surely the dragon would not come back. He had strolled through their village for curiosity’s sake and found they had nothing of worth. Surely Batran would protect them from more oppression than they already bent under. She sent up a silent prayer to that effect and resolved to sacrifice something small when she had time.

They saw his shadow a few more times that week. He seemed to be circling around the top of the small mountain that loomed over their village. Once, Old Horace said that Young Horace saw the dragon flying with a boar in its claws. That troubled Inada for a day, until Hella pointed out that perhaps the dragon was in the area only to hunt. That would explain his curiosity and his subsequent lack of interest. After all, there were plenty of boar for one with the stamina and strength to take them down.

Inada had other worries. Trovar was coming. The delicate balance of giving enough to satiate him and keeping enough to survive, of placating without arousing suspicion, weighed on her. Two years ago, his men had found one of her hidden stores and Trovar had been angry with the village. They had beaten her and taken extra food in punishment. The winter had been lean indeed. Last year, she had barely dared to hide anything. Trovar had been more merciful, sensing her defeat. But the village could not afford another winter with as little as he liked to leave.

She daydreamed of a protector. They would send out an appeal and someone would answer. A lord with restless men, inclined to be merciful, or a band of Elbissian warriors eager to deal justice, or better, a group of armed travelers seeking someplace to settle and join.

Foolish fantasies. A lord’s men were as likely to pillage as Trovar’s. Elbissian warriors were concerned only with hunting dragons, whether they offered harm or no. And armed travelers might kill the villagers and take the village for themselves rather than join peaceably.

Young Horace came running one golden day in the autumn to announce breathlessly, “They’re coming!”

Inada uttered a prayer under her breath and tipped a little vinegar into the dust as an offering. Then she strode out to supervise the half-yearly tribute. Bags of grains and dried fruit, casks of fruit wines and fish pickled or dried, racks of animal furs and smoked meats: they laid out what they had for Trovar’s men to take.

They watched the cloud of dust approaching. Then they heard the singing: raucous, bawdy songs, bellowed cheerily. And then Trovar, followed by his men, came out of the woods and strolled toward them. He was of middle height, compact with muscle, with a full beard and dusty clothes that had once been fine. He was quick to smile and he had a taste for pinching women’s buttocks and teasing them. In other circumstances, when she had been young, Inada might have laughed at such liberties even as she slapped his hands away. In these circumstances, at her age, such liberties were a veiled threat.

The villagers huddled in the square. Trovar’s men would wander through their houses, picking what they pleased, while their comrades watched the villagers and made sure no one had thoughts of rebellion. They would sort through the food. And then they would leave again, with their stolen bounty piled high on shoulders and the two pack mules, and the village would be left to face the winter.

Trovar strolled up to Inada and chucked her under the chin. “Inada. Lovely as ever. I swear, you look younger than you did in the spring! All that summer sun has you glowing.”

She looked at some point past his shoulder. “I am older, that is all.”

“Bah, you are younger! You’ve found some unicorn’s horn, haven’t you?”

He teased, she knew he teased, but the question sent a chill down her spine. If they had something precious and kept it back from him, the consequences would be unthinkable. “I have found nothing but more grey hairs.”

He clicked his tongue. “Really, Inada, you must learn to take a compli–Who by Batran’s balls is that?”

Startled, she turned to see what he was looking at. The villagers were parting, scattering, for the dragon. He strode through, gold eyes locked on Trovar. Smoke hazed the air behind him. “You,” he said, and his voice was a growl. “You take from them?”

Trovar snatched for his sword. “What is it to you?” he snapped back.

Inada backed away from him, huddling into Hella.

“You are done,” the dragon announced. “Leave.”

The sword rang as it came free of the scabbard. Trovar was not a man used to denial. Trovar was a man used to force and to taking what he pleased. Trovar was a man who died by dragon flame, foolish to the end.

The dragon did not waste time watching his ashes fall to the ground, as the stunned villagers did. He turned his gaze on Trovar’s men, lips peeled back from his teeth. His teeth were pointed, sharp: predator’s teeth. “Leave,” he said again.

They dropped what they held. They bumped into each other in their hurry to flee. The three archers among them made no efforts to string their bows or reach for their arrows. Empty-handed and silent, they scurried away while the wind blew their leader into the dust of the road.

Inada looked at the dragon and tried to think of something to say. Thanks, perhaps, or ask him what he wanted of them, or– But her throat stayed closed. The smell of burnt flesh lingered in the air.

The dragon surveyed them, chin ticked up slightly. “I am Lord Cazadan Isvrayne, and this is now my village. You will build me a dwelling on top of the mountain, according to my specifications, and then you will build me a hosting house. I will not permit bandits or miscreants to harm you. Your village will thrive under my rule. Am I plain?”

Glances flickered among the villagers. There was a catch. There must be a catch. Why would a dragon choose to protect them for nothing more than the cost of building a home and a guest-house?

“My lord–” Inada began, voice wavering.

His gaze settled on her. “You are a tiny village,” he said. “Unimpressive. But I will make you thrive. My kind will see how well I can manage and protect, and your kind will see the benefits of my rule. The best of what you have will grow your village.”

“Yes, my lord,” she said, voice faint.

He nodded once. “Send someone up to the mountaintop with me to begin marking out where my dwelling will be. The rest of you, put this food away. The flies will get to it.”

And then he leapt and changed and sent dust everywhere as he winged away, heading for the mountaintop.

“What was that?” Hella whispered.

“I do not know,” Inada whispered back. “But…Jola should go to the mountaintop.” Jola knew much about building houses. Her grandfather had been the most skilled carpenter their village had ever seen.

It would be a month before the village understood what had become of them, a month before shock wore off and they settled into the mundanity of working for a dragon. In that month, they let themselves feel cautious joy over their sudden abundance. Old Horace spearheaded the efforts to weatherproof their homes. Inada supervised parceling out the food properly and setting the excess aside into stores. They might even have enough to trade in the spring, she thought.

It was a month before they all fully realized that they had become a dragon’s hoard, and that Lord Cazadan would protect them with his life.

#original fiction #my writing

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izvmimi · 2 days

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cw: selfship-coded. tanjiro and reader in 30s and have named children. family fluff.

Your daughter, only aged six, is surprisingly graceful, mirroring her father’s movements with determination and care written on her face that outsizes her small frame, as Tanjiro gives words of gentle encouragement, each step in time and more fluid than the next.

It’s Sunday morning, and Ayumi has been practicing small portions of this dance for months now, and her sister right after her, Miki, stands a short distance away in the courtyard, mouth open in awe, with uncoordinated movements of her own as she tries to mimic them. You smile and call her over from your vantage point, and she peels her eyes away from them to look at you, then runs over to fall into your arms. Your last daughter, Mio, who has a wooden toy halfway in her mouth as she crawls over the tatami, also looks and easily jealous, scampers over to fight for attention.

“Stop!!!!” Miki starts to whine, but you shush her gently before finding space for both of them to sit close enough as you sit cross-legged and watch the rest of your family dance.

Ayumi is not holding a sword, even a training one made of wood, and you’re endlessly thankful for that. Thankful that she’ll likely never don a Demon Slayer Corps uniform, thankful that she’s learning for fun and tradition only.

Tanjiro isn’t wielding a blade either, and while you can still see the slashes of his sword in your mind’s eye as he moves (you’ll never forget it as long as you live, you think), the Hinokami Kagura he’s performing has the steps he once called unnecessary added back in, once more a dance rather than necessary swordsmanship needed in situations of life or death. As he turns quickly, power and beauty combined in every step and hand movement, Ayumi moves in concert, less steady but just as impressive if not more so given her young age, and she’s the picture of her father in miniature, in a small little girl, the tints of burgundy in her thick curls pulled up into a ponytail matching his in the ample sunlight.

She makes another sudden step, misplaces her foot, and practically trips, but Tanjiro is quick to catch her by the back of her kimono, and gives her a reassuring smile.

“Oops! That’s enough for today, sweetheart,” he says, as she rights herself.

Ayumi pouts, but she can’t deny that she’s tired, and allows him to pat her on the head. “Good job,” he offers and her lips spread into a wide smile.

“You looked amazing, honey!” you call out to her.

The two are quick to join you to sit on the tatami, Tanjiro pulling Mio into his lap and inspecting the drool covered block in her hand. She giggles as he tickles her tummy, and then Tanjiro’s eyes shift to you, as Mio quickly escapes him and crawls back into your direction, something that often drives him insane but he allows today.

“It wasn’t a bad idea,” he finally admits.

Ayumi, ever curious, asks “What?” as her eyes dart between the two of you but you share a knowing smile and don’t say anything further.

You’d once asked him if he’d ever pass on Sun Breathing and he’d imparted to you that he never intended to teach anyone this dance, practically callous in his honesty that he in fact, never expected to live long enough to. In your stubbornness in refusing the idea that he could potentially die, you’d made him promise that he’d imagine himself teaching his child, whether girl or boy, if he managed to beat the curse and if he carried out his promise to marry you if he made it to age 26.

And here you are now, years past that in the courtyard of a house far bigger than Tanjiro would have been comfortable living in, only giving into Kiriya’s constant offers of money once you were pregnant with your first child and he considered perhaps he could fill up a happy, large home.

“What wasn’t a bad idea?” Ayumi insists again, pushing into her dad’s side. Tanjiro ruffles the curls of her hair.

“Letting you show me up in front of your mother,” he teases. She laughs.

“Nuh-uh! I messed up three whole times!”

She demonstrates with her fingers and Tanjiro quickly replies, “yeah and you’re only 6, so very, very soon you’ll be a far better dancer than me!”

Ayumi’s dark eyes sparkle with competitive spirit which makes you smile. He picks her up abruptly and spins her around, then asks,

“Will you beat me at a ramen eating contest too?”

“Definitely!”

She laughs as he cheerfully puts her down then does the same spin with Miki, ever demanding of copious amounts of attention, and pretend wincing as she tugs gently at his earrings.

“So ramen for lunch?” you ask, as Ayumi and Tanjiro nod furiously.

The idea of a family outing puts a smile on your own face.

“Of course, let’s get ready to go!”

#tanjiro kamado x reader #tanjiro x reader #daydreams: kny #cw children #cw families #mimi's notes

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the-flying-robins · 2 days

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I was talking to my spouse about the "Jason Lives" what-if comic they're planning and now I can't stop thinking about it. Unfortunately *I* do not know much of anything about the Jason Robin era and the general state of everything in universe at that time. Because if you assume most of the events of Death in the Family still happen, it's only Jason living at the end that really changes, you still have to grapple with him being pretty injured in a rather similar way to Dick's final injury as Robin.

And that raises the question, how does Bruce handle it? Does he fire Jason like he fired Dick? And if he does, how does Jason handle that. So much of Dick's journey to Nightwing (post-crisis, I'm really only pulling is only possible because of the support system he has, the people he can lean on, and the places he can stay.

(We're only going to stick with Post-Crisis continuity here, I'm trying to think of it more as a what-if scenario than like a fic.)

But I don't think Jason really has that? Dick has the Titans, he stays with Clark for a bit in the immediate aftermath, who does Jason have? Dick? He's off planet at the time, and not back for a couple weeks, a couple months (ngl, I tried to find a timeline that made sense, needless to say, it's comics, I couldn't.)

Also, he's 15 at the time compared to Dick's 17. It's significantly easier for Dick with both those extra years and the support he has to move out become a solo vigilante. Jason is 15, still in high school, and while maybe not a super public figure definitely public enough questions would be raised if he just left. Granted some of that could be solved with Bruce just saying boarding school, but while Bruce isn't always the most conscious of what is acceptable for children/teens, I have to think even he wouldn't let Jason just live on his own at that age, so moving out more permanently like Dick did is off the table at least for a little bit.

It also brings up the problem of "Batman needs a Robin" and Tim's motivation to join the cause. Does Bruce go as off the rails without a Robin if Robin is at least still alive? Tim knows their identities, it's how he knew for sure it was Robin's death that caused it. Would he pester Jason about returning to Robin, or go to Dick because well it's Dick?

And would Jason even want to continue being a hero? Would he be as upset as Dick and go around Bruce to make a name for himself? What would a never killed Jason "adult" vigilante even look like?

I'd love to talk about this more, especially with someone a bit better versed in Jason!Robin, my reading project is focused more on the 90's to flashpoint atm, so I really am not familiar with him at all.

#jason todd #bruce wayne #batman #dick grayson #a death in the family #red hood #batfamily #bats birds and other related trauma #the number of tabs i had open while trying to piece this together was obscene #i hope this makes sense i struggle with articulating my thoughts and tend to ramble a lot

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schemmentis · 2 days

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La Cosa Nostra - Pt. 22

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14 / Part 15 / Part 16 / Part 17 / Part 18 / Part 19 / Part 20 / Part 21

Cowritten w/ @janeyseymour

Summary: Life carries on...

WC: 2.7k

In New York, your Sunday always starts with Sunday service at your new parish. Plenty of the members you mingle with afterward are as taken with your daughters as the Howards were. Still, none become like family to you like they were.

You and Melissa slowly rebuild. You get a reputation in your community. Except this time it isn't hidden behind covert speech and business fronts. You and Melissa both slowly become well known as reliable people. Your girls make new friends at their new school, and somehow your house becomes the house all the kids are usually at. Which finds you and your wife sharing looks of exasperation more often. Though those looks are always followed by smiles. Your house is always filled with children, and it’s messier than ever. You and Melissa often find yourself on your hands and knees scrubbing the floors, the walls, and every other surface to keep it as clean as possible. Is this what a normal life is?

Both Cat and Rosie making friends that want to spend most nights and free time around your place is heartwarming. Seeing your twins slowly grow up, without the looming threats of before, is its own blessing. Plus, the children are the ones both you and Mel can immediately care for like family. Especially since there's a decent overlap between the kids your wife now teaches and your daughters. It makes you chuckle when the friends that the girls make go wide-eyed at seeing one of their teachers open the door dressed in sweatpants as opposed to her usual teaching look for the first time.

The adults, the parents, you're friendly with but neither of you get as close to anyone else as you might have before. You don't have adult gatherings or large Sunday dinners with your house filled. Unless the girls have their friends over. So, your kids’ friends you open your home to with the open knowledge it's a safe place and that Melissa or you are always there if they don't feel they can go to their own parents. Your spare room quickly turns into a safe haven for other children, and your wife’s cooking becomes a fan favorite of your girls’ friends’.

It takes a long time for the girls to stop asking to go see their grandparents, or ‘uncle’ Luca or their other cousins. You don't think they ever fully understand why you always say you can't but eventually they stop asking. Just like they eventually stop trying to correct you on the rare occasions they hear you call Melissa her new name instead of a pet name. Or vice versa. At this point, she’s Raphaela and you’re Saoirse more often than not. So even sometimes in the comfort of your own home, you end up lovingly calling her ‘Raph’. Still though, she’s almost always Mel or whatever Irish pet name you decide to call her at that moment.

You're careful to overlook their homework whenever they're assigned anything like family trees or their heritage. Most of it, you don't have to lie, at least. Though if you see names not your alias’, you're swift to change it before it's ever turned in.

You feel like you blink and your little kindergartners are in middle school. Cat's injuries she'd had when you moved here are nothing more than a scar that she tells a different story for anytime anyone asks. You blame your wife for that one. Once she'd been old enough to start being self-conscious of it, Melissa had told her she could have it mean anything she wanted it to. So, of course, your oldest took that advice to heart. The scars mean whatever she wants them to, given a story to match at any moment.

Rosie still has nightmares about the shooting and the days and weeks spent holed up in that one little hall at the hospital in Philly. You think Cat does as well though she never says so. She doesn't wake up screaming some nights like her sister does.

It absolutely broke your heart the first time it happened. It was almost two in the morning when you heard shrill shrieks coming from their bedroom, followed by frantically whimpering out “Moms, moms!” Both of you had bolted up in bed, terrified at what you might find. Your life flashed before your eyes before you got up to see what the ruckus was- did someone from Cosa Nostra find you out again? Their bedroom door was whipped open to see a teary-eyed Rosie curled up with her knees to her chest as she rocked back and forth and clutched at her scar. Cat looked genuinely terrified at what was happening with her sister.

“Stellina,” your wife had whispered as she pulled your trembling daughter into your lap. “What has you so upset?” You perched yourself on her bed too, a hand reaching out to rub soothing circles on her back in hopes of calming her down.

Your little girl had hiccuped her way through her nightmare as she clung to your wife. All Melissa could do is whisper her love for your youngest and promise everything would be okay before whisking her away and into your own bed for the night. Cat promised she was okay to stay in their own room.

As they age, it isn't as frequent. Still, there are some nights you wake up to your youngest accidentally elbowing you in the ribs as she squeezes between you and your wife. Just like the two of them had been that night. You thank your stars that she feels the need to stay with you both to make sure everyone's alright instead of avoiding doing so at all.

As they grow, other things change too. At this very moment, it’s the idea that the girls pick out their own outfits that is on your mind.

“Uh uh.” Melissa says firmly, her hand raising to twirl her index finger around. “Go change. You’re not goin’ nowhere dressed like that.”

Your brows raise at the sound of your wife, though you don’t look up from the work you’re doing at the kitchen table. You’re trying to get ahead on next week's numbers so that you can have a staycation of sorts. You’ll still be available if anybody at the business really needs you but you’ll be home. Melissa’s, and the girls’, school is going on summer break. You can’t take that much time off, but you try to take some. Especially the first week. The next few sees both Cat and Rosie away at summer camp.

You and Melissa had been reluctant the first year they asked to go, worried out of your minds about if it would be safe or not. Until you’d talked with some of the other parents who were sending some of your daughters’ friends as well. You’d done a bit of research into the facility as well. It wasn’t until you and your wife were awake well into the early hours of the morning that you had started laughing.

“What? What’s so funny?” your wife asked you as you continued to full belly laugh, almost manically.

“We don’t have to do this shit anymore.” You had answered as you shut your laptop, blindly tossing it down your bed before rubbing your eyes. “We don’t have to be paranoid ‘bout a fuckin’ summer camp. That’s the whole goddamn point. Nobody knows.”

Melissa had sighed, slumping into your side. “Christ. It’s been years and we’re still living like we got ghosts over our shoulders.”

You had turned your head enough to kiss her temple as your hand shifted to get your fingers through her hair. “We do. It’s always gonna feel like we do, anyway. But we’re awake at fuckin’ two am researching every fuckin’ person that works at a summer camp.” You can’t help but laugh again. “We should let ‘em go. They can be normal. I keep forgettin’ that.”

“Me too. We’ll tell ‘em tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow evening.” You had bargained. “I can’t handle screams of shrill excitement until dinner time.”

Now, you tap away at your laptop at your kitchen table, listening to the brewing argument. The girls are only going to movies with their friend group and dinner after. A few of the other parents are chaperoning, though you and your wife aren’t. She’s up to her eyeballs in grading and prepping for the end of the school year, and you’re flooded with the financials you’re handling. You haven’t looked away from your screen to see your eldest’s outfit but considering it’s Melissa vetoing it; you’re pretty sure you agree. Your wife tends to be more lax between the two of you.

“Mam! Will you please tell Ma that this is not inappropriate?” Cat calls for you, trying to drag you into the argument.

You see Melissa flinch from the corner of your eye at being called ‘Ma’. She’s still adjusting. It was only recently that both the twins had said it was embarrassing to call her mommy still.

“Mommy, it’s embarrassing,” Cat had groaned at lunch after church. “Rosie and I are twelve now.”

Your wife glanced over to your youngest, who looked to be at war with herself in her head. “Rosie?”

The girl in question just shrugged her shoulders. “It is a little embarrassing.”

Melissa frowned. She didn’t want to be embarrassing to her girls. If she’s being honest, she remembers having this very conversation with her own mother, probably around the same age.

She hadn’t let them see her cry about it, waiting for when you both retired to your bedroom that night to let her heartache over it out.

“My love,” you had tried to placate that night. “It will all be okay.”

“Our girls are embarrassed by me!” she whimpered into your chest.

“They’re not embarrassed by you,” you promised her. “They’re just a little embarrassed at the name they call you.”

“I’ve been mommy their whole lives!”

“Yes,” you sighed softly, dropping a kiss to her hair. “But they are getting older now, and things change. You and I know that so well.”

“But I didn’t want this to change,” she told you quietly, wiping at her tears. “Dammit, Y/N. You got lucky, always being ‘mam’.”

“I know, my love. I know.”

“God, is this what my mother felt like when we stopped calling her ‘mommy’ out in public?” Melissa laughed bitterly.

Reluctantly, she said they could call her Ma to keep from getting confused with calling you both variations of mom. She hated the stereotypical Italian way to refer to her, even though it was how she referred to her own mother. Still, she relented. Except she refused to refer to herself that way.

“Nah uh, don’t go dragging Mam into this, Catherine Ann!” Melissa retorts swiftly before you can even look away from your laptop. “Mommy already said no! Now go change or you’re gonna be stuck stayin’ home instead of the movies while your sister goes without you!”

“Ugh!” Cat sneers at the use of the nickname. “You said you’d stop sayin’ that!” She reminds your wife, though she sounds more snobby about it than anything. “It’s so embarrassing, and so is what you let me wear! All our other friends dress like this, it’s fine!”

“I said you and your sister could stop callin’ me Mommy; I’m still gonna say it in the comfort of our own home. I don’t care if it’s embarrassin’- it’s just us! Just like I don’t care if Carla’s Ma lets her dress like that! I ain’t Carla’s Ma! I’m yours, and you and your sister are not leaving this house dressed like that. Now, for the last time, go change. You sass me again, and I swear you’ll be stuck here with me and your Mam all night.”

You wince at the very pointed stomping of feet back up the stairs that signals Cat’s reluctant retreat to change. If you listen closely, you can hear her grumbling too.

“God, I’m already gettin’ a migraine,” You mutter, bracing yourself when you hear more timid steps coming down the stairs a second later. You don’t have to look to know it’s Rosie. Your youngest took a little more time getting ready, likely debating how much she could get away with unlike her sister who had come down in whatever she wanted.

You finally look away from your screen, scanning your youngest twin’s outfit from head to toe. You raise an eyebrow- there are a few pieces of it you’d veto if it were you and she’s definitely wearing too much makeup, but you have no doubt it’s all more tame than what her sister was wearing. You glance up to Melissa standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Her arms are still crossed and she’s still fuming a bit from arguing with Cat.

“Those my heels?” Melissa finally mutters when she gets to looking at Rosie’s feet. She looks back up to your daughter with a raised eyebrow.

“I didn’t have any shoes that didn’t clash with the belt, Mommy,” your youngest says softly, averting eye contact.

Oh, Rosie was good. She knew when to pull out the Mommy card, unlike Cat. You knew she didn’t like calling Melissa it around their friends any more than her sister did but right now, it was just the four of you in your house. Rosie wasn’t afraid to use the affectionate term to her advantage, especially in the wake of her sister being sent back upstairs. She also knew that if there was fashion faux pas, your wife would be more lenient.

Finally, Melissa hums. Her arms uncross enough for her hand to wave away your youngest. “Go. ‘fore I change my mind.”

Rosie beams a smile, quickly kissing both of Melissa’s cheeks. “Thank you, Mommy. Te amo. I promise we’ll be back before eleven.”

“Before ten, Rose Marie.” You correct her attempt at a later curfew sternly.

“Before ten.” She parrots in confirmation before she kisses your cheek. “Te amo, Mam.”

“Te amo.” You echo as she hurries to get out of the kitchen before either of you can find fault with what she’s wearing. “Make sure your sister stays out of trouble, huh?” You add just before she disappears from sight. You get a shouted promise of it before you hear the front door open and shut for Rosie to wait on the front porch for her sister. No doubt a small gaggle of their friends are already there waiting, too.

Your eldest comes stomping down the steps a few minutes later, a deep frown written into her face.

“Are you happy? I look like a nun now,” Cat huffs as she shows off her new outfit. She’s completely covered. Melissa raises a brow and folds her arms again. You glance at her look.

“Catherine Ann, stop being ridiculous. Go change into something that you know we’ll approve of while still being a pre-teen,” you sigh.

“What the-”

“That sentence better end with ‘heck’,” you warn quickly. Cat groans and heads back up the steps.

“She takes after you,” you mutter as you put your head into your hands. “Attitude.”

“She shouldn’t even be going,” your wife tells you. “I told her anymore sass, and she wasn’t going.”

“Please don’t put me through a night of a hellish Cat,” you practically beg her. “Please, mo ghrá. My head is already pounding with everything that I’m trying to get done tonight so we can relax during the first week of summer.”

“You’re lucky I love you so damn much,” Melissa grumbles as she walks over to where you sit . She pecks your cheek and sets a hand on your shoulder.

“I know,” you chuckle as you reach a hand up to set over hers. “I love you too.”

Your daughter comes down again, appropriately dressed. “Better, Ma?”

Your wife glances over it, and then she frowns. “Are those Mam’s shoes?”

“Rosie is literally wearing yours!” Cat points towards the door in emphasis.

“Just go, honey,” you tell your eldest. “Before I lose my sanity entirely.”

“We’ll be back by eleven,” your daughter tells you as she begins to walk away.

“Ten!” you call back. “And don’t think I won’t be texting Lexi’s mother to make sure that you’re back by then!”

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