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#when you play on your own its just kinda sad
pokimoko · 4 months
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Listening to instrumentals from the silly doo-wee-ooo show is actually something that can be so painful.
#doctor who#doctor who music#murray gold#segun akinola#musings about music#this is specifically about 10's theme in vale decem. the long song in 11's regen piece. and clara's theme in face the raven / clara's diner#i get psychic damage everytime i simply hear the use of the motifs elsewhere because of the tragic associations those sadder renditions hav#obviously these songs aren't the only examples in doctor who but they are by far the most emotionally devastating ones for me personally#and obviously it isn't just leitmotifs either. basically hearing any piece that played during a sad scene gets to me.#how are you supposed to explain to your coworkers that you're tearing up because of instrumental sound association?#'yeah sorry these violins and humming sounds summoned vivid images of my favourite character dying/leaving and it made me sad'#love that composers can just straight up pavlov bell your emotions by getting you to associate a melody with a sad scene#an addition to this is doctor who instrumentals that make me nostalgic because I associate them with my own past#like 'this is gallifrey: our childhood. our home'. that song was one of my alarms for a good long while back when i was 15ish#so it kinda transports me back to that time in my life whenever i hear it. music really is its own little kind of time travel#i am very much looking forward to the continuing psychological damage murray gold will inflict upon me in the new season#and to have previously uplifting character leitmotifs used against me and forever be contaminated with sad feelings. love to see it#(also: not a instrumental but damn 'the stowaway' has no right being as good as it is. who knew a christmas sea shanty could sound so great#apologies for this probably niche-ish post (is it niche to know ost title's by heart? asking for friend). just feeling things about music
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privitivium · 29 days
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holy shit what about a yandere sub gojo who’s popular and a playboy. like everyone wants him and he’s just being worshipped by them. But, he’s such a creepy fuck to reader, always looking and stalking them. just make him creepy asf
real tho. not even into jjk like that but... gotta share this with your fellow jjk fans. please heed my pinned post, this might be a one time thing, i am already as slow getting these out as it is lolz.,,,
ㅡyan creep "playboy" gojo satoru........
both amab,, cw;; manipulation, nc touching, stalkin, jerkin it, overall a fucking creep
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ㅡi feel so embarrassed writing for this guy,,, his blue eyes startle me immensely. intimidating !!
sub creep gojo, a playboy... observing, rather than making the moves like one would think. watching, studying you... stealing all your fucking miscellaneous shit... every so often stealing something of value - mere clothes is all. just to hold n cuddle into ... nothing too perverted. friends, obviously noticing where his stare would flit to, giving him the confidence he needed ! ooc, a little... but imagining this guy as shy to befriend you but still perving on you is a lovely thought imo
sub creep gojo who,,, touches on you once he gets the confidence. accidentally, of course. hes so clumsy, right??? hey, dont glare at him... really, it was an accident. you just got too close to him-!! "ouh, whoops." snickering, playing it cool as he holds his hands up in defense as he brushed his groin against your ass - merely walking too close n getting a whiff of your natural aroma...,,, totally not weird. you dont hold it against him as he wanted - wanting you to make a fucking mess of him and humilate him,,, but it seems ur just a little too... stoic about it. hmph. popping up literally everywhere you are out in publicㅡhey, hes not following you, just happen to be in the same area, silly.. dont get so big headed that the playboy is getting so close to you !
sub creep gojo... in his own time, all alone in his room. pervs on you to the max. simply. riding a fat fucking dildo that he knows cant compare to the real thing, having to jerk off while huffing one of ur shirts held to his nose - reminiscing about catching a glimpse of ur soft cock through of course, grey sweatpants... hes embarrassed how fast he cums - of course, no one to witness... but imagining himself in a daydream accidentally cumming too quickly,,, how embarrassing would that be ! the renowned playboy ! gojo satoru ! cumming so fast !! he has to embrace this...
gojo, again, would still gather all your unused things - taking it upon himself to get close to you, as friends !! who wouldnt wanna be friends with him?!?!!! he's the coolest, kindest guy around - sure, a reputation, but... you just have to be charmed !!! but... he sees that you find him kinda weird n creepy, all standoffish when he tries to talk to you... all sad as he whines n nearly cries as he jerks off into a pair of stolen boxers from ur gym locker - its ur own fault, who leaves their underwear in their gym locker... hey, you mustve wanted him to find them right? ur just as a pervert as he is - ! probably even more, huh?!?!! delusional, as you don't quite pay attention to him - yet still seeing his white hair literally everywhere in the corner of your eye, you start to associate the color white with him, obviously. thinking of him rather oddly... mhm mhm mhmm!!!
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denileisariver · 1 month
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pairing: batman aka bruce wayne x f!reader
summary: you move into wayne manor, but not everything is as it seems. pt.2
warnings: smut, some non-con/dub-con but not really, doggystyle!, creampies ♡, mentioned babytrapper!bruce but nothing happens (or does it 🫣?), some anal play but also not really, unprotected sex, descriptions of male and female genitalia, bruce is not the best father unfortunately, age gaps, uses of the word(s) 'baby' and 'daddy' like once or twice, non-consensual recording?, reader is described as dating girls in the past.
a/n: i guess this is a small continuation. i'll still be tagging as yandere due to some slightly darker undertones kinda. i'm not sure how i feel about this one but oh well :).
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bruce never believed that he was a good man.
he could care less for all the praise he received throughout the years. fundraisers and charities, his image as a loving adoptive dad who took in struggling and orphaned children, or as batman. deep down, he knew he was selfish.
everything he did, he took too far. whether it was to fulfill a pipedream he realistically knew would never come true at the expense of others. or even with love, using the people he cared for the most just so he could gain something out of it. he considered himself lucky that all the little vigilantes he collected over the years stayed. and he was even happier you decided to stay as well.
bruce knew fear like the back of his hand. he could easily recognize it in your eyes whenever your eyes met his. whether it was subconscious or not, something in you knew that you should be cautious around him, and for good reason.
he couldn't quite pinpoint when his infatuation with you started. the only thing he knew was that it had crept up on him slowly, and it had been far too late until he realized its claws were sunk deep and he wanted you wrapped around his finger.
his mind would drift off sometimes, wondering if it's because of how closely he's been able to keep tabs on you over the past couple of years. you were strong and independent, more than able to take care of yourself, and others if given the opportunity. he admired that you were bold and selfless, driven. and he wanted to control that.
he stood by on the sidelines for far too long, watching you be strung along like an afterthought. he hated seeing your pathetic dates that always turned out horribly, pitiful men who only wanted one thing from you and girls that led you on because they were 'experimenting'. he hated the sad puppy look in your eyes whenever you hung around dick, before he invited you into his family, even if it was unintentional.
whether you believed it or not, bruce truly wanted what he thought was best for you. and if that meant keeping you under his surveillance, where you were at arms length 24/7, then so be it.
bruce wanted to train you how to be obedient for him. you were already establishing your own place in his household, practically marking your territory there, and he enjoyed every bit of it. for the most part, at least. there were still some challenges he needed to overcome, but you'd always been a good girl for him. that much he knew.
you tried to be grateful for him as much as possible.
even after his creepy behavior and even weirder training, you wanted to trust him. it felt wrong not to. everyone had been kind and did more for you than anyone else in your life had, and bruce set the foundation for all of it. you'd finally got a taste of being part of his family like you always wanted, and you weren't willing to let it go just because of eccentric assumptions and silly feelings.
you did find all of it a bit extreme, though. the excessive amount of gifts, the kids were attentive as ever, and alfred practically babied you. but it was normal. completely normal. at least that's what you chalked it up to, living under the roof of a well renowned billionaire, and you weren't about to complain about it either.
being around all the other wards put you at ease. regardless if you truly saw them as found family or not, you considered them your best friends. whether it was helping alfred around the manor as much as possible, burning pastries in the kitchen with the girls, playing video games with jason (which grew to be one of your favorite pastimes), you found yourself letting your guard down. like you could finally breathe and be safe in your own home, which was basically never while you were still surviving on your own back in gotham.
speaking of jason, you think maybe you are beginning to like the boy. sure, he had always been attractive, but you never actually got to interact with him longer than a short conversation here and there before dick decided to butt in. he had always been protective of you like that. you figured whatever you felt for jason might've been weird at first, but considering tim and stephanie dated for a little while, and they were still here, that it was okay.
you tried to subtly spend more time around jason. sitting close by during dinner or while catching a flick, offering to be by his side during patrol. maybe you were a bit more obvious than you would've liked, but jason took it well, much to bruce's disdain. the boy started to talk to you more often, more lively around you than ever, staring at you from across the room, making physical contact. and you greedily accepted it.
and of course dick would be the first to pester at you about it. he'd snuck up from behind, startling you when you were too engrossed in a romance book that you'd discovered while exploring the ginormous library.
"so you and jason are a thing now?"
the sound of his sudden voice makes your body jolt, damn near dropping the precious book you were reading that probably cost more than your entire life. the only people in this world that could make you flustered the way you are now are all living underneath the same goddamn roof, and you've successfully trapped yourself in it, willingly.
"what're you talking about?" the blank look on dick's face makes you cringe. in all your years of friendship, the two of you never really fought. the thought that he'd be mad about you being with jason was almost enough to make your heart sink. but the truth was, you weren't really actually with him anyway. things were just.. different.
all of his rigorous training with bruce had apparently worked off, because almost right on cue, dick notices how anxious you are right now. he shifts his body language to a more lighthearted demeanor, no longer as stiff. his voice is soft. "listen, i don't care, kind of, but.. just be careful." the way he says it almost makes you feel better, like he cares, and of course he does, but—
"what's that supposed to mean?"
your defensiveness is no surprise to dick. the look on his face let's you know he expects it, and you almost hate yourself for being so predictable.
"i don't want you to get hurt, that's all i'm saying." he tries to reassure, but it does nothing but the opposite. hurt you? you never expected much to come out of your tiny fondness for jason, and even if it did, you knew better than to think it'd be something that'll last forever. "I won't get hurt."
you say it like it's a sure thing. there's this unreadable look in dick's eyes. something that you don't think you've ever seen before, and it almost scares you. like he knows something you don't, but you can't tell what the hell it is. he curtly nods, forcing back that charming smile to his face, but you're no idiot, especially when it comes to him.
"i don't doubt it." and with that, he's gone.
☆☆☆☆☆
it's been a couple of days since your little talk with dick. well, more of a warning than anything, so that's what you take it as. you started being more mindful, not just around jason but everyone. more observant and aware of how you interacted with them. and after a while, you deduced that whatever dick was thinking is just part of his overprotective nature, both as a brother and as a friend. that he'd grow accustomed to you and jason just like everyone else was.
that was up until you noticed your possessions were starting to go missing. it started with just panties, then a bra or two, eventually your sweaters or jewelry. at first, you thought you were going crazy, just misplacing and losing things, but it was happening way too often. bruce spoiled you enough so that everything was replaceable, but still. was dick right?
was jason some sort of pervert or stalker?
well, you think all of them had the stalking part down, getting it from bruce, but you aren't completely oblivious to the fact that jason harbored reciprocated feelings for you. but to go as far as stealing your stuff? even dirty panties? there's no way. it couldn't be. if it was true, you were daring enough to confront him about it. you'd just have to wait for the right time to do it, but that proved more than difficult. there seemed to never be a perfect moment.
bruce had been more rough than before during sparring. and honestly, you didn't mind. at first, it scared you. but with the emotional turmoil you were suddenly experiencing, you almost liked it. those damn hands in your hair, a tight headlock cause his bicep was wrapped around your neck, a muscular thigh between your legs. it felt better than you would ever admit, and you found yourself almost looking forward to it. it was just because you needed some stress relief, right?
bruce intimidated you more than anyone you've ever met, but that didn't stop you from checking him out occasionally. the older man was more than attractive, and no one could deny that, not even you, regardless if you thought he was a bit peculiar.
if you hadn't been so enamored in your thoughts, trying to convince yourself that you weren't just another perv, maybe you would've felt bruce's growing hard-on accidentally poke your ass. or that he's held you in this same position for too long, admiring how you looked bent over for him like this and wanting nothing more but to make you take him right then and there. but he was upset with you.
you were getting too close to jason. on a fatherly note, he knows he should be happy. jason always had trouble around others, and he was probably just another reason for you to stay. but a larger part of him wanted to spank your ass over his knee, gag your tiny mouth on his cock in front of everyone so they knew who you belonged to.
he has to be more careful. he'd barely gotten ahold of you, and if he pushed too much, he'd run the risk of you trying to escape. but he couldn't bear to just stand by and watch while you and jason tried to pursue a relationship. no.. that couldn't happen. jason would have a knife at his throat if he caught bruce just now, that he'd hate him even more if he found out that the girl he was crushing on was being lusted on by his father figure.
but bruce could live with that.
that's why he doesn't say anything when he gently bounces the leg that's slotted between your thighs, your clit grazing against him through the thin fabric of your workout shorts. he only gauges your reaction to it, waiting, expecting you to fight back but you don't. the movement was soft enough for you not to notice it at first, but when the rubbing gets repetitive and you finally realize just how long you've been in such a comprising position for him, a flood of both excitement and anxiety goes straight to your core.
it almost feels like a betrayal to jason, even if you owed him nothing. you couldn't even remember the last time you hooked up with somebody, and it was actually good. you'd been stuck with making yourself cum, and that got old very quickly. on one hand, doing this with bruce could potentially ruin your relationship with his other wards if you were caught, and on the other hand, you were horny enough to not be thinking straight. even if bruce was a weird fuck that you didn't trust fully.
you manage to let out strained whimpers, hoping to appeal to bruce so he'd let you go. the arch of your back had become strenuous, but even then, you found yourself yearning for more. if this is what he wanted, you couldn't bring yourself to stop him. your hips move on their own accord, rutting and pressing the plush lips of your cunt along the thick muscle, face contorting slightly in pleasure whenever your sensitive bud received the attention it craved so much.
he allowed you to hump his leg like an animal in heat, his hips jutting out forward and now fully pressing a heavy cock against your ass, the clothed tip resting by the lower half of your back. whether you fully wanted this or not, it didn't really matter to bruce. the arm that was wrapped around your neck moves down, then squeezing a handful of one of your tits, appreciating its weight and how squishy it was in his grasp.
the differences in sizes made your body appear tinier than it really was, and bruce thought that was cute too. his other free hand wrapping around your body so he could feel both of your pillowy breasts in his hands, his groping making you squirm. even if you encouraged this more than you probably should've, you wonder if this is moving way too fast. he's your best friends dad for christ sake. jason's dad. (as much as he liked to deny it). and you were already living in his mansion.
all while these thoughts swirl through your head, bruce is slipping his hands beneath your shirt and moving the cups of your bra out the way, twisting and pinching at your pert nipples. his teeth find your neck, biting, a tongue licking the sensitive skin. you felt helpless to how quick and overwhelming all of it is. it doesn't take long for it to feel like his presence and touch is suffocating you, and bruce is even more greedy than you are.
"can i touch you baby?" the grufness of his voice sends chills down your spine.
you don't know why he even asks. you stupidly nod your head in agreement, even though rough pads of his fingers are already eagerly shoving themselves into your shorts and cupping your tiny pussy through cotton panties. he hums in content, noting the warmth of it and the gentle rhythmic pulses. your heart races, resisting the urge to hump his hand just like you were on his thigh.
much to your disappointment, he slips his hand out of your shorts, whining at the loss of contact. that is up until your bottoms are being pushed down your legs, and suddenly, you're conscious of how anyone could walk in on the two of you. and you still can't bring yourself to protest.
bruce bends you over once more, your face down and ass up for him. his cock aches in its confines, throbbing and begging to be released, but he holds it off. he stares at your exposed cunt, making you feel subconscious for a bit. your lips are soft and glistening, tiny clit shyly hiding beneath the hood. his thumbs spread your cheeks a bit, your slick holes on display for him.
your arousal drips down, dripping a bit onto the sparring mat in the process. your openings wink at him a bit with small flutters, and bruce leans down slightly, using his own spit to lube up your asshole and rim it with his thumb, even if he wasn't going to use it yet.
your body jolts, yelping a bit in surprise. no one had ever touched you there, and you certainly weren't expecting it just now. your hands move to try and cover yourself. "wait— i've never—"
bruce interrupts you with low shushes, kneading the soft flesh of your asscheek in his hand. he decides to feel your clit instead, his thumb working its way down your slit and easily finding the tiny nub. the constant and steady movement ties a knot in your tummy, instinctively pushing your cunt against his hand, soft moans emitting from you. fuck, he was good at this.
you were no stranger to playboy bruce wayne. ever since you've met him, he always had a litter of lovers that followed him around like lost pets, people that he'd never commit to always at his beck and call. you think you might understand why, now. he was a provider, strong, handsome. and even though you hadn't felt his cock inside you yet, you feared you might not ever want another one again after this.
your pussy fluttered desperately, needing something inside you, an impending orgasm building up but frustration was still there. one of his long, thick fingers offers you grace, gently pushing into your cunt. it was almost comical how easily he got you to gush and make a mess of his hand, the digit rubbing and pushing at that sensitive and spongey spot deep inside of you.
"fuck!— bruce—" you cried out, back arching even further, hair sticking against your forehead due to your sweaty state. you pant quickly, trying to regain composure, but your heart only beats more wildly, like a tiny prey animal, the sound of bruce's clothes being removed filling your ears.
you twist your body and head a bit so you could look at him, the sight making your mouth fall open slightly, practically drooling while you oggled him. regardless of his age, the man before you was built like a damn sculpture. hand-crafted to perfection. he was still toned in all the right places after all these years, even if his body had grown softer during his time as a father. coarse hair that led down to a fat cock that was standing up at full attention.
you whimper a bit, unsure if you were really prepared for this. you assume that whatever this is will have an unspoken agreement to be kept secret, at least you hope so. bruce was sometimes unpredictable, but if dick or even jason found out, you'd imagine you and bruce would be killed.
"don't worry baby," bruce grunts softly, as if he knows exactly what you're thinking. the head of his cock teases your entrance, before moving his hips in a mimick motion of thrusting into you, fucking himself in between your thighs and cunt. the tip of his cock smears pre-cum along your stomach, a thick vein protruding from the shaft, and you worry your guts are about to be rearranged, not knowing if you'll be able to walk without a limp tomorrow.
you haven't been able to catch a good look at his cock yet, but you're sure he's gonna have the biggest dick you've ever had. it's proven to you quickly, the air being knocked out of your lungs when he fully sheaths himself inside, bottoming out without warning.
bruce grins above you, his hand resting on your lower back, just above your butt so he could watch the delicious jiggle of your ass bouncing on his cock. he keeps a slow pace at first. judging by your reaction, he knows the stretch hurts you a bit. your baby pussy was so taut around the meaty length, lips struggling to open up for him, even after playing with it.
soft ah ah ahs spill from you, body quivering ever so slightly. it would've been unnoticeable to anyone who wasn't watching you as closely as bruce was. you wanted to take it. you wanted to be good for him. you didn't want to disappoint him. you needed to take his cock like a big girl, even if you didn't fully understand why you wished to please him so much. maybe it's just cause you were sick of feeling like a child in front of him. like you had something to prove even if it wasn't needed. he'd adore you either way, but you didn't know it yet.
bruce was surprised you even succumbed to him as easily as you did, an adorable determination in your eyes, he presumes for a number of reasons. you were deprived just as much as him, which sometimes led to some questionable decisions. which meant he also knew you'd regret this later. but those were problems for another time.
one of his hands finds your wrists, keeping your arms pinned behind your back. bruce imagines the dainty fingers struggling to wrap around his thick girth, how pretty you would look with a cock fucking down your throat. he had fantasized about this happening for too long.
he fucks you with consistent movements, cherishing this moment in case he wouldn't be able to get it back. you were a kind girl. he knew all about the conflicted feelings that were settled deep in your heart because he felt them too. the teary look in your eyes, not knowing if you wanted him to stop or fuck you even harder, but he'd do the latter. with or without your permission.
bruce snaps his hips with more ferocity, keeping his focus on the recoil of your ass, his cock getting getting increasingly wet with creamy white slick, a ring of cum forming at the base of his length. you shudder a bit, his heavy balls slapping against your clit, and you shift your hips to fuck him back, needily chasing your own orgasm.
"that's it— use that little pussy on daddy," bruce hisses through his teeth, his nails digging into your supple flesh, all the filthy sounds that you and that sweet pussy made had his cock pulsing.
you could barely register a word he said, completely forgetting about anything other than the persistent pounding your weeping cunt was receiving. tears prickle your eyes, spit spilling out of your mouth. you looked a damn mess, barely coherent other than the small chanting of 'daddy' just like a prayer, mindlessly accepting the title.
this was something that bruce could get used to. everything about you was just so damn perfect. he shamelessly hoped that you were ovulating, wishing to fill your womb with his seed and make your belly full and round with his child, then you'd have no reason to leave. even if you tried, he wouldn't allow it.
your toes flex and curl, legs trembling from a wave of ecstasy. your poor cunt spasms uncontrollably around his cock, a strangled but sweet moan forced out of you while you rode out your climax. bruce stuffed you full, plugging himself deep inside of you. he stayed there for a moment before fucking you with slower but unmerciful strokes, skin slapping against you with a force that made your breasts bounce harshly.
your pussy squelches, juices leaking all over him. you struggle to crawl away from him cause of the overstimulation, aching and already sore due to the ceaseless strech. but he only pulls you back, growling at your disobedience, swatting your ass with a calloused hand. bruce cums with a raspy groan, a bruising grip on your hips, the sticky substance painting your velvety walls.
the mat below you is drenched in a mixture of yours and bruce's fluids, sure to leave a stain unless poor alfred was stuck cleaning your mess, and you had a feeling bruce wouldn't do it. you'd be willing to clean it yourself to save the embarrassment, but your weak limbs had other plans.
you think he's finished with you until you're hoisted up, forcibly turned around so bruce could see the rest of your naked body. he wastes no time to latch his mouth onto one of your nipples, swirling his tongue around the stiff peak. he wasn't going to allow you to leave here without leaving his mark on you, claiming you by filling up and covering your chest with his lovebites.
he could care less if anyone had seen how effortlessly he managed to corrupt you. all it took was to turn you into his perfect little cocksleeve. it'd be damn near impossible to avoid him after this. even if he wasn't around, the memory would be forever ingrained into your mind, and you wouldn't be able to look at dick or jason or any of the other wards without the reminder that you fucked their father.
you gently try to push at bruce's broad shoulders, the effort not doing much other than making him bite down on your tit, then moving along to the other. you guess the post-nut clarity had hit you, and a tinge of guilt welled up in your chest.
your brows furrow a bit in a feeling of discomfort when bruce glides two fingers through your folds, then gently massaging the swollen button above them. but your heartbeat picks up again, cunt clearly working with a mind of its own.
strained whimpers spill like honey from your lips, now finally shaking your head and attempting to push yourself away in defense when it's what you should've been doing since the beginning. bruce let's you break away from him though, his lips pulling off of you with a pop.
stern eyes meet your lustful but ashamed gaze, a state of displeasure evident on bruce's face. it's something that worries you, unsure of what that might entail. you don't want to make him angry, and you also don't think you're ready to leave the manor just yet, but you also don't know if you can act indifferent around bruce and the others.
maybe if he wasn't around as often, things would be easier, and you'd be able to pretend like this wasn't a mistake. your throat bobs, swallowing your anxiousness, wanting to reevaluate yourself, preferably alone.
you kneel there and wait, half expecting bruce to just fix himself up and leave without much regard for you, because you assumed that's the type of man he would be after fucking someone, but he doesn't. instead, he let's out a small disgruntled noise, collecting your panties and shorts that he had pulled off of you earlier.
his cum is still seeping out of you, a thick load slow to ooze out of you when bruce had emptied his balls inside your abused pussy. he doesn't ask if you want help or if you wanted to be cleaned up, simply raising the fabric up your legs and thighs till the most precious parts of you were covered again. the cotton becomes damp, your wet core coating them with the evidence of yours and bruce's sex.
he shortly cups the tiny cunt in his large hand, gently swiping his thumb over your mound. a small sigh leaves his lips, almost as if he was sad to be leaving the warmth and tightness of it so soon. you're not sure if you're comfortable with how easily he assumed he should have access to your body, but you guess it's also partly your fault, so you allow it for now.
his lips find yours, surprisingly gentle and loving, a stark contrast to how hard he was pistoning his dick inside your belly. but it's pleasant, so you welcome that also. bruce's tongue is smooth and soft, gliding along yours for a moment before he breaks away, a hazy look in his eyes. something you don't think you've ever seen there before, and you swear he's so dreamy to look at.
it's when you remember he's still undressed, eyes shifting below between your bodies and honing in on the massive cock that bruce endowed. even if it was gradually getting softer, he was still semi-hard, his blood pumping to that area just in case he needed to go another round. he'd be more than willing to stuff that tiny hole for you again, and he wished you'd ask him to, but you don't.
but maybe you will someday.
he let's you stare at his cock unabashedly, his breathing heavy and shaky. he slowly moved his hand, gently jerking the long length since you were gawking at him. you let out a cute squeak, suddenly remembering you were about to leave.
bruce doesn't seem to care that it's getting late, or that the rest of the family would be heading down to the cave sooner or later, his focus purely on what was in front of him. but he can see the look of worry written all over you, and it deters him. he stands up to his full height, your eyes widening slightly, his cock dangled in front of you shamelessly, and a small smirk forms on his face.
he has to refrain from grabbing your hair and prodding his dick between those pretty lips of yours. he moves to tug his joggers back on, his cock slapping a bit against his thigh from the movement. you never break eye contact, and neither does he, your thoughts plagued by bewilderment and amorosity.
you stumble over yourself while picking yourself up off the ground, barely reaching bruce's shoulders. you have to tilt your head up just to look at him without straining your eyes, uncertain of what to say or how your relationship with him will be like after this. it's distressing for you, but you're even more concerned with how you're gonna be able to look dick or jason in the eyes again afterwards.
you push away your apprehensiveness, chewing on your bottom lip so you can find the right words. "this— this never happened," you stutter out, your voice coming out more frail than you intended.
bruces lips curl a bit in dismay, his jaw clenching. out of everything he wanted to hear you say, that was certainly not at the top of his list. his hands ball into a fist, his nerves tensing up. he would never think about hurting you. not physically, at least. but you didn't know that. bruce scoffs lightly, almost amused that you actually thought he'd let you off that easily.
you scramble a bit, trying to get your point out before he can get a word in. "if anyone found out–"
"who i fuck is my business only," he cuts you off, already knowing what you'll say next. it's something he's thought over plenty times already. dick had been suprisingly compliant with bruce thus far, so he wasn't an issue according to bruce, and it was easy to get to him anyway. but he didn't foresee his other sons feelings coming into play, or yours. "and you're not an innocent little girl either, so don't act like one."
shit. you were practically digging yourself into a deeper and deeper hole since you moved here. you stare up at him with pleading eyes, and he can't help but soften up a bit. if you were more smart, none of this would've ever happened. how the hell are you gonna be pining after jason now? and bruce.. he seemed less than pleased at the moment. and your gut told you that he wouldn't be letting this go anytime soon.
but he was at heart, a family man. everything he did was out of love, and a desire to protect others so they didn't have to experience the pain he felt when he lost the people most important to him. at least that's what you liked to believe. after jason's passing, they worked so hard to rebuild their relationship, and the trust between them had slowly begun to resemble what it used to be, even if there were some slight changes.
there was no way in your mind that bruce would destroy all of that just for you. you were just some girl, who occasionally hung around his son, but that didn't mean you held as much value in his life than his adopted children. he wouldn't go as far as breaking down his own home, again, just for you, would he?
"if this ever happened," you gesture between the two of you, shaking your head, already gathering how he must've felt about this based off his demeanor. you were no master detective like he was, but being able to easily read body language, sensing people's energies, and intuition, you were good at. "it would ruin everything."
"we're not going to argue about this." he rebutted, taking on a more stern tone, his voice raising above yours. like he was already making the decision for the both of you, and you weren't having that. you want to say more till the sound of footsteps catch your attention, a familiar voice resonating from the stairwell.
"master bruce, is everything alright?" you silently thank whatever higher power that it's alfred instead of someone else. alfred has had his fair share of catching bruce in.. less than favorable circumstances. but the look of surprise on his face isn't something you can miss, even if it's only there for a split second. you'd been caught.
alfred's eyes wander down to the floor below you that's still wet with juices, registering what it was quickly. his eyes meet yours for a moment, smiling at you weakly, then taking a step back from you and bruce. "sorry for the interruption, sir." the older man says formally, turning on his heel to leave, but you do the same before he can.
"actually, i was just leaving." you glance at bruce whose eyes haven't left yours since even before alfred entered the cave. and then you were back to feeling small and helpless around him, back to square one. you sigh and roll your eyes at his poker-face, trying to rush out the cave to escape the awkward interaction.
alfred's eyes follow you with worry, only turning to bruce with a vexed expression once you're gone, shaking his head in disappointment. bruce stared at him blankly, already knowing he was about to get a scolding. "i'm a grown man—"
"precisely." alfred cuts him off, sass in his voice. "she's over a decade younger than you, your sons friend. you have no right to take advantage of her." he argued, pointing a finger in bruce's face.
"she can make her own decisions." bruce seethes, unwilling to hear him out. he hates himself for knowing deep down the butler was right, but he didn't force you to do anything. not really. he knew this wouldn't be without repercussions, but alfred wouldn't say anything either to avoid suspicion.
everything would blow up in bruce's face, and maybe he'd take some accountability for once in his life, but alfred highly doubted that would happen anytime soon.
bruce faced away from him, dragging his tongue over his bottom lip. he hated how easily you turned this around on him, turning into a little cock-drunk slut while having sex and then turning around to be angry at him, but it was something he'd seen coming. bruce huffs out a heavy breath, ignoring alfred's smoldering expression. "just get out, i'll clean this up."
"and what of the girl?" alfred asks, side-eyeing the man he raised. he cared more for your safety and how you felt rather than getting on bruce's nerves. "that isn't your concern. i'll take care of it."
alfred was less than enthusiastic about what that could possibly mean, or what any of this would result in. his heart ached for you and jason, even occasionally eavesdropping on the time you spent together, and the friendship had blossomed. maybe it could have turned into something more, but he isn't so sure now.
he turns back into his more reserved and neutral state, giving bruce one last judgmental stare before leaving him to tend to him thoughts. there was no point in trying to reason with him, so he wouldn't waste the energy. he'd only watch you like a hawk now. and bruce included.
with alfred away now, bruce makes quick work of his computer. he searches for the camera he placed in your room upon your arrival to the manor. there's a weird feeling in his chest that he can't quite explain, unsure of what it even was, seeing you curled up in bed, staring off into space. this was one of the rare times he wished he was meta, just so he could read your mind, pick your brain, even if just for a little bit.
you didn't seem sad or angry. just more confused by what he could tell. your eyes shifting like you were thinking up all the possibilities and outcomes of this, and he hated to see it wrack your head. he wished he could say something, or hold you, anything that would give you comfort, but it'd probably just have the opposite of his desired effect.
he had hoped to dwell on the fact that he finally got to penetrate that pretty little cunt of yours more without having to stress over issues that were nonexistent for now, but that wouldn't be the case. there was always something there to bite him in the ass and humble him if need be.
now he could only dream that whatever emotions you possessed for jason would alleviate. that he was an option you didn't know you had up until today. he hoped that he could make you his. and he would. just one day at a time.
he makes sure to save the footage that the security cameras all over the cave had captured, for later usage. he didn't think he'd get an experience like that again anytime soon, that he had just gotten lucky this one time.
but you were almost too eager to fuck him back. bruce wondered if maybe he had more of a chance than he thought, but he didn't know the extent of the loyalty you held for jason or him. or if you would want to avoid the situation completely and decide to leave the mansion. he was never a religious man, but if there was anything for him to pray for, it was you.
he didn't know what was worse. his eyes narrow, analyzing you for a quick moment before shutting off the computer, his head almost beginning to hurt due to the frustration.
just one day at a time.
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daycourtofficial · 1 month
Text
Forever is the sweetest con
Cassian x reader, Azriel x reader
Summary: based on this request - the war with Hybern claimed the life of your husband. Reeling with grief, you discover that you’re pregnant. His brother and your friend, Azriel, begins spending more and more time with you, finding solace in each other amidst your shared grief.
Author’s note: sadness, sadness, sadness, this one took me ages to write bc it’s so fucking sad 😭 I’m not super happy with this bc I was mostly trying to meet the deadline so this might feel disjointed bc I had to kinda skip around a lot. Also I didn’t tag this as Cassian x reader in tags bc it felt too painful to do that
Word count: 3k
Warnings: character death, unexpected pregnancy, honestly just sadness
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“I’m Cassian.”
A large, handsome male greeted you as you were shelving some new books away. His large outstretched hand reached towards you, waiting in the air for a moment as you set the stack of books in your arms down. Your hand gets lost in the warmth of his, telling him your own name.
He smiles at it, repeating it, testing it on his tongue.
For days, that is the only memory playing in your head. It is what you think of as you lay in your shared bed, his scent still lingering. It is what you think when Feyre picks you up, and her and Mor place you in a bathtub as they clean you. It is what you think of as you stare at the ceiling, hoping it will collapse on you.
It is what you think of as you stand between Rhysand and Azriel at Cassian’s memorial. It is what you think of as they lower the casket into the ground, the citizens of Velaris standing around to pay their respects.
You don’t notice the hundreds of people who come to offer you a silent nod, a gentle prayer over you, their voices carrying gentle choruses of “he was so brave” and “you should be proud”.
You’re too numb for any of this. You’re too numb to recognize the hand Azriel places on your back, or the hand Feyre clasps into your own, squeezing tightly.
All you can think about is how his hand felt in your own the first time you held it - warm, gentle, comforting. And how it felt the last time you held it - cold, lifeless, gone.
Being a war hero came with a cost.
Only Cassian didn’t have to pay it - those he left behind did.
-
You’re not sure how much time has passed since Cassian died. You’re not sure if the people of Velaris still mourned him, or were simply wearing the traditional colors of their court.
You sat in one of Cassian’s old tunics, piles of clothes scattered on the floor around you. Your back was to the wall, its cool surface warming with your heat.
You hear movement in the house, but you don’t have the energy or ability to care who’s here.
Someone knocks gently before coming into the room, Azriel’s large frame coming through the door to your chambers. He sees the slightly ajar closet door, and shimmies his way in, sitting next to you amidst the pile of clothes on the floor.
He notes that they all seemed to have been pulled right off their hangers, in a fit of rage or desperation perhaps. Shades of black and red litter the floor, and the realization that it was all Cassian’s clothes causes him to take in a deep breath.
You two sit for a while, Azriel’s wings likely cramped in the small space. Mother knows Cassian complained if he spent more than five minutes in your closet.
Azriel just sits in silence, his shadows gently swirling the floor, searching through the piles.
For what, you’re not sure.
You finally speak, the words hard to form. You didn’t speak much these days - your voice a rare sound for your family’s ears.
“He doesn’t need them to be hung up anymore.”
Azriel sighs, shifting closer to you. He gauges you, looking for a reaction before moving a bit closer.
“He never needed them hung up. Before you he mostly just left his clothes strewn about the room. Drove Nuala and Cerridwen mad.”
You look at him, pulled from your trance of that black shirt Cassian wore when the two of you went on vacation in Adriada. The shirt that fit him so well the two of you did not see the beach at all for the five days you were there.
“They’d complain, saying every night he’d pull his clothes that they neatly hung up and the next morning they’d be strewn about his room,” he shrugs, still confused over how Cassian kept track of where everything was.
“Eventually Rhys told them to stop and to let Cassian do what he wants. No idea how he managed to stay neat and tidy with you.”
Your eyes meet his, and he reaches out a hand for you. It’s the first offer of help you’ve accepted in days. You keep his hand in yours for a long time, sitting amongst Cassian’s clothes.
-
You were sitting on the small balcony of your home, looking out at the expansive night sky above you. Elbows on knees, collapsing in on yourself.
Eyes red rimmed, tear tracks marking your face. You had never felt so helpless or as hopeless as you did now. Your eyes snag on a dark figure, soaring through the skies, its body getting closer and closer.
Azriel had taken to checking on you every three days now. Make sure you were eating, washing, and moving. Honestly if it weren’t for these biweekly check ins, you’re not sure how you would be faring.
The Illyrian descends next to you, a soft landing as he tucks his wings back in and sits next to you. You two sit in silence for a while, the sounds of the night a melody playing for just you two.
Velaris is dark, few fae lights scattered throughout the city aglow. You breathe deeply, taking in the smell of Azriel next to you. You should tell him, but you haven’t been able to tell anyone all week.
It was eating you up - you knew they’d be supportive, you knew they’d love you and help you in anyway they could. But it would still break their hearts just a bit more.
Your internal debate is ended by the overwhelming turn of your stomach, your lunch from earlier wanting to make a quick exit. You hurriedly get up, running towards your bathroom and throwing yourself on your toilet, narrowly reaching it in time.
Azriel ran after you, making quick work of grabbing your hair before you began your second wave of vomiting. The only sounds in the room are your retching and Azriel’s soothing tunes.
His other hand gently rubs your back as you feel as if you’re going to die. From embarassment or pain, you’re not sure. He waits for you to say what he already suspects, having noted a subtle shift in your scent when he arrived.
You wipe your mouth, not wanting to say the words aloud. The words that Madja had told you three days ago, the words that caused you to shut down until now.
“I’m pregnant,” you say, head leaning against the toilet seat. “All Cass wanted was to be a dad. Now I’m pregnant and he’s dead.”
A forced laugh comes from you.
“It’s not fair, Az.”
Your words hang in the air, and your friend responds by wrapping his arms around you, and pulling you into his lap. He nuzzles his head into your shoulder, his breath shuddering as he cries softly into your hair.
The two of you lay there, the cool bathroom tile digging imprints into your skin as he holds you, tears streaming from both of you.
-
Several months along in your pregnancy, and Azriel has essentially moved in with you full time. He takes meticulous care of you and the babe - he goes to your appointments with Madja with you, he goes baby shopping with you, he even put together the crib in your room.
He was your late husband’s brother. He was stepping up, knowing that Cassian would want him to help you. And yet your dreams wouldn’t stop being so perverse.
For the past month, every night without fail you dreamt of Azriel. Every dream was different - some of places you’ve gone before, places you only know of because Azriel described them.
The dreams were weird and disorienting, but you left them there. They were dreams.
About how beautiful he was. About his hands, his wings, his shoulders, his thighs.
Every day you’d wake up full of shame at where your mind takes you against your will.
-
“Az,” you say, a serious look on your face. “Something’s wrong.”
He looks over to you, glasses perched on his nose. The knife in his hand clatters, landing on the cutting board, a piece of carrot tumbling to the floor as he moves to you quickly.
Your breathing becomes more shallow, and you hold your hands out, reaching for his. Once his fingers reach yours, you bring his hands to your bump.
Just as he’s about to ask what the problem is, he feels a soft thump against his scarred hand. He can’t control the soft laugh that comes from him, and he can’t help but cradle your bump just a little tighter.
He looks back up to you, a mischievous glint in your eye.
“I thought something was wrong.”
You smile, “I know - that’s what makes it fun.”
-
Almost eight months had passed since Cassian’s death, and you were finally able to hear his name without breaking down. Azriel was the only one you would talk to about him, though.
It felt right to talk about Cassian to Azriel. It felt right to plunge yourself back into the memories of him - his boisterous laugh, his insistence on touching someone at all times, his presence in rooms.
It felt right, and the babe in your belly would kick frequently whenever Azriel spoke to you about Cassian, as if they knew who you were talking about.
It felt so right, and yet so wrong. Every night before bed you replayed the memories of the day, desperately trying to insert Cassian into Azriel’s spot in them.
He never fit perfectly into them, the edges of him not quite the right size.
-
This was too much.
You were an absolute fool to believe you could do this. To not only birth but to raise your dead husband’s babe. Who let you do this? Who thought this was a good idea?
“Hey.”
Azriel’s voice vibrates through you, pulling you from your thoughts, his large frame behind you. Your back pressed to his chest, his arms helping hold your legs up.
You lean your head against him.
“This was a terrible, terrible idea.”
He smiles, “Cassian never was known for good ideas.”
Your face contorts in agony, a strong cramping pain rippling through you.
Azriel takes the wet cloth from the nurse to his left, holding it on your forehead. “I’m so proud of you. You’re doing so well.”
You scoff, “if I was doing well, the babe would be out by now!”
Azriel takes your jabs, your sarcasm, the intense squeezing of his hand in yours. He’ll take everything you throw at him.
After about eight hours, you were blessed by the cauldron with a beautiful boy, tiny wings clinging to his back as he cried.
-
Azriel’s presence didn’t stop after the babe, Camden, was born. If anything, he spent more time with you. He delegated much of his work as spymaster to support you, even going so far as helping coordinate schedules for Feyre or Nesta to help you bathe.
In the first few weeks, you were able to move around, but you were utterly exhausted. Not just the physical demands of your babe and recovering from birthing a winged babe, but also the emotional toll this took on you left you unable to care much for yourself.
You had thought being bathed would make you feel like a burden, but Feyre and Nesta did everything to make you feel so loved instead. They lit candles, rubbed your back, and told you how proud of you they were constantly. Their words never failed to make you cry, the task at hand feeling impossible if you thought about it too hard.
Eventually, after weeks of sleepless nights, feeling like nothing more than a cow for milk, you and Azriel were able to settle into a routine.
He took care of the babe at night, allowing you decent sleep. He brought Camden to you for his middle of the night feedings. You took care of Camden during the morning through early afternoon while Azriel attended to his duties. The two of you cooked dinner together, Azriel always insisting on washing dishes afterwards.
After a while, it all felt so normal. As if Cassian was never meant to be here for this part.
-
A few months after your son’s first birthday all Hell broke loose. It was a regular day. The sun still shone as it always does, your son was as beautiful as ever. Azriel was holding Camden in the air, helping him stretch out his wings, when he spoke for the first time.
A soft dada accompanied the little boy’s giggles, followed by Azriel stiffening immediately. You looked to the shadowsinger, and when his eyes met yours, you knew.
As if a golden thread appeared out of thin air, tying a knot from Azriel to you, you could feel him. You pulled an experimental tug in the bond, and he pulled back.
Wide eyes meet each other from across the room, silent except for Camden’s continued giggles. You stare at him bewildered, your expression mirrored back to you on his face.
A high pitched noise starts ringing in your eyes before everything goes black.
-
“It’s a bit of a cruel joke,” you say. “I want to love him, I want to be with my mate. But what kind of person does that to her deceased husband?”
You had woken up in Rhys’s office twenty minutes ago to your head in Feyre’s lap, her hands gently running through your hair.
You had heard bits of hushed conversation, and you thought you had heard Az, but when you came to, he was nowhere to be seen.
Rhys looks contemplative before saying, “you of all people should know that Cassian would have wanted you to be happy.”
You put your head in your hands, gathering to courage to say your worst thoughts out loud.
“It feels like Cassian died for me. I know he didn’t, but I can’t help but feel like if he had survived, would Azriel still be my mate? He would have let me be with him, yes, but just.”
You sigh, trying to grab the fragmented thoughts in your head and place them together. Rhys lets you, allowing silence to fill the room.
“It would have killed him having to watch me choose Azriel over him. He would have done the respectable thing, he would have stepped back. He would have been happy for us.”
You sigh, “but if it were the other way, if Nesta or Elain were his mate, I’m not sure I could give him up.”
Your words come pouring out quickly before you begin sobbing. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. His hands wrap around your head, and he gently smooths your hair down.
“Feyre and I are immensely happy for you, despite the circumstances. Both of you. I know you might not feel like it, but you made your own family.”
-
You found Azriel a few hours later in what used to be his room in the townhouse. He hardly stayed here, hardly stayed at any of Rhys’s estates anymore, opting instead for the comfort of the home you two now shared.
“Hi,” you say tentatively, stepping through the door.
“Hi,” he echos back, turning to see you.
“Crazy day,” you say, pulling lightly on the bond. He cracks a smile, but there’s a sadness deep in his gaze that you haven’t seen in months.
He moves towards you, slow and deliberate steps, as if you were a bunny found in the woods easily scared off.
“Do you want this?” He asks, eyes focused on your own.
You nod your head. He nods back.
“I dreamt of you. For months, years even. Since about halfway through my pregnancy, you’ve been in my dreams most nights.”
He watches you speak, letting you say whatever it is you need to. You take a deep breath before continuing.
“I don’t want to forget Cass, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re replacing him. I can love both of you.”
He steps closer, slowly moving towards you until he’s stopped right in front of you, his wings blocking you in.
“It’s unconventional, I understand. And I understand if you don’t want a widow with a child.” You look up towards him, determination in your eyes. “But I am all in.”
He gently cups your cheek, eyes full of conflict. “It won’t be easy,” he muses.
“Nothing about this has been easy, why start now?”
His face slowly moves closer to yours, his lips gentle against your own. His hands still hold you gently, as he kisses you long and slow.
There would be time for passion later, his kiss now is full of the emotions words can’t convey. Adoration, sacrifice, immense grief.
You thought having Azriel kiss you would make you feel like you were betraying Cassian. Instead you feel an overwhelming sense of rightness as your hands cup his jaw back, pouring every ounce of you into him.
-
You and Azriel look out at your backyard, watching Nyx and Camden run around, play fighting with their swords. The two boys occasionally take short flights, only about a foot or so off the ground.
Azriel wraps his arms around you, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. You close your eyes, letting yourself feel this moment, allowing the sounds of the boys playing and your mate’s breathing to lull you into some form of peace you never thought you’d find again.
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yooooo!!! you’re my favorite ethan winters artist i just wanna say that first and foremost, thank you for the wholesome content of my comfort character and father figure 🥹🫶
i’m really curious bc i feel like i see a lot of people against mithan (not me personally, i’m p neutral on them!) but i’m curious to know all your thoughts on them! thoughts on their canon relationship, their fanon portrayal, the backlash against them/mia accusations, and your headcanons? i’m just really interested!!! hopefully that’s not weird :”)
have a good day!! sparkle on!!! ✨💖
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i heart mithan... i think that they can be so cute...
i personally hc them t4t and i like to think that the dated in highschool before they both had fully transitioned
mia likes to bake and ethan likes to scrap book and he always likes to take pictures of mias cakes/ baked goods and has a album for them 😭
i am a multishipper so i draw a lot of ethan ships so my girl is left out sometimes and im sorry mia 😔
i actually really like their relationship, its a really complex dynamic that i like to talk about with my friends
i think the issue is that when talking about mithan or mia in general, theres just SO MUCH misinformation that its honestly a pain the butt to talk about
people still think that she was responsible for the creation of eveline, people still think that she experimented on eveline, people still use examples of her attacking ethan as if she did it on her own will instead of being mind controlled
in reality she was just someone who oversaw the transportation of evie. im not excusing her or anything because obviously she knew what she was doing, but people really try to accuse her of doing something she didnt and it bothers me alot lol
the problem with the fandom is that people either try to water her down to girlboss who did nothing wrong and fail to acknowledge the complexity/ moral grayness of her character and the other side is misogynists 😭😭😭😭
its hard to talk about her without people either going "stop trying to villainize her and make her look bad!" or people ACTUALLY villainizing her and acting like heisenberg would have treated him better 😭😭
mithan is such a sad relationship because they loved each other so much and that ended up being the reason their relationship fell apart (sort of... its not like the broke up... ethan kinda just straight up died)
i get a lot a trouble for saying this, but mia is a selfish person.
its not a bad thing! well i mean it is but it doesnt make her some evil witch who is somehow worse than the guy how made a werewolf american ninja warrior. its just a major character flaw she has! which is good! mia being a flawed person who makes mistakes and morally gray decisions make her a more interesting person!
she is selfish in the way that she wants to keep her family with her no matter the cost. even if it means lying to ethan about her job so that he wont think different of her. here is a interrogation from the re7 DLC, which is easy to miss!
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she isnt necessarily trying to apologize for the things she has done, she is more of a, "u wont need to forgive me in the first place if we just forget it all and move on"
she doesn't try to redeem herself for what she has done, she tries to move on and return to the normal life that she wants so bad. which is fine! everyone copes a different way and she has to right to move on from her trauma. the problem that lies in this is that she has a shared trauma with ethan who still has no idea what went on in dulvey and still effects him till the present (he is mold! this is a important thing to know! most people would want to know if they were a walking corpse)
she played a direct part in what happened in dulvey, and im not referring to the email, she did not send that. she never wanted ethan to come in the first place. she tried her best to send a video to him, begging him to forget about her because she wanted to protect him, BUT it didnt send.
he got involved because she was involved. its honestly a series of really really unfortunate events.
THOUGH! she did know what she was getting into. im tired of seeing the narrative that mia was innocent and didnt know what was going on or was simply a bystander. she knew what she was doing, she knew eveline was a bioweapon, she knew eveline was a child. she used a MACHINE GUN! she knows how to use weapons and was obviously trained for it.
she tried her best to keep everybody out of the mess, ex: warning the bakers not to take them in, warning ethan not to find her, sacrificing herself for ethan in the later half of re7
but again, those are the consequences of HER actions
her consequences just happen to get really big and end up hitting ethan on the head like a metal sheet 😭
their relationship is really so interesting, it makes me really sad to think about sometimes 😭they both went through something that nobody else would ever understand, in the end they really only have each other. they get moved to an entire different country and the dulvey incident gets covered up with a "gas leak"
its really tragic because their marriage definitely had some flaws and bumps. and i know im repeating myself but its because people always take this in the worst way possible but just because i say their relationship was rocky doesnt mean im saying they dont love each other!!! thats the entire basis of mias character!! saying she doesnt love ethan would destroy her entire character!
you can see in the re8 DLC how fondly ethan talks about mia! he loves her so much, though im not sure if his comments in the DLC are him narrating current (post re8) or his thoughts before everything went down and he died (pre re8)
everything mia did was because she LOVED ethan. she would never do anything to intentionally hurt him, she is not a cruel person. she hides the truth of her job from ethan pre re7 because she loves him and doesnt want her job to drive them apart. she CONTINUES to refuse to tell ethan the truth post re7 because she wants to move on a live a happy normal life with him and knows something like her being directly associated with the connections would probably cause (more) problems. she refuses to tell ethan that he is mold because again, hard to live a happy marriage with your husband after you tell him hes a bioweapon.
obviously i dont think it was right that she did this, thats what makes her selfish! she did it for herself! she did it for her family! she thought it would work out, she thought that they could move on and be happy together.
the issue is that ethan didnt want to forget. he wanted to know what happened, he wanted to know the part mia played, he wanted answers! which is reasonable! he knows to some extent that mia was partially responsible for his involvement and he was always suspcious that mia was lying to him about her job which is implied when mia says "you were right, i did lie to you"
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she doesnt learn, she doesnt stop lying, her lies get bigger and worse and it sucks yeah but it makes her so interesting!!! she keeps doing stupid things under the idea that this is whats best for her and her family, that if she hides this everything will work out and it will be for the better but its not!
just because telling your husband hes dead and a bioweapon is a hard subject to bring up doesnt mean you DONT bring it up. people shouldnt use that as a reason to excuse mia 😭, its a very bad excuse and honestly highlights how horrible their communication skills were. you cant just not tell your husband that he is actually infected with the mold and not tell him for the tree years between post re7 and pre re8.
im not saying these things to put mia down, or try and villanize her. these are all just actual things her character does! she isnt evil, but she isnt a knight in shining armor either. we need to be able to have talks about complex characters without crying everytime someone points out a flaw. characters have flaws! and mia just happens to have a lot of them!
im not mad at her, i dont dislike her because i think this way of her. shes a fictional character! you can like characters that are morally gray, or villains that drink blood and make corpse soldiers. they are fictional! pointing out the flaws of a character does not mean i dont like them.
i wouldnt call her "the real villain of re8" but i wouldnt treat her like a damsel in distress either. she is a competent person, she knows what shes doing, she has her reasons for doing them. she made bad descions with good intentions behind them! they can coexist and we should let them!
i like mithan! its a complex relationship because they both love each other so much but hurt each other in the process
talking about them is just a pain in the butt because talking about mia is a pain in the butt lol
i really hate how she keeps getting sidelined, its super frustrating to see mia get put in a cage in every game 😭
its even more frustrating that mia straight up just disappears???? in the shadows of rose DLC... like she just stops taking care of rose and theres nothing said about it. no reason or explanation. i dont think mia would ever ditch rosemary because she didnt care about her, but we probably will never know because capcom sucks at writing and they probably forgot the mia ever even existed.
all in all, i think the fandom is really just full of misinformation which make people either think mia is some horrible evil person, or its full of people who think that saying mia messed up is the equivalent of comparing her to wesker lol.
i really love mia, shes a incredibly fun and complex character, its just hard to enjoy her sometimes with the people in the fandom haha.
also ive got no idea what u meant by "the backlash against them/mia accusations" so sorry if i didnt answer that!
thank u for the ask! sorry for the long response!
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messylustt · 11 months
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Heyy!! I Hope you’re doing well and have/had a great day🥰
I wanted to request a ghostface ethan x reader smut oneshot and to be honest I don’t really have a exact idea but I just love the way you write and portrait ethan and I also think you are one of the only ones that also write him as a Dom :)
Maybe you could throw in some degrading and choking or some public sex if ur comfortable with that ofc!
Here’s kind of a „idea“ but you don’t have to use it if you don’t want to:
Reader and Ethan are in the same friend group ofc but they really hate each other (Ethan is ghostface) and idk maybe when the ghostface attacks begin (scream 6) one time where reader is walking home or something she gets a call from ghostface (Ethan) and first he’s like trying to scare her but reader isn’t that intimidated since she survived before (scream 5) and she’s also a bad ass and then gf (Ethan) randomly starts flirting with her/ dirty talking and the reader kinda goes with it since she has a bit of a thing for gf and then when she’s in a ally gf pops up and it comes to smut somehow and just before reader is about to cum, Ethan reveals himself?
(Oh and I would still love to see the bickering and fighting with Ethan and reader before the gf smut? If that’s okay with you)
I am so sorry, that got so long omg- 💀
THANK YOU ALREADY IN ADVANCE!!🫶🏻
nothing's too long babe! love this plot. meanish banter is MWAH
behind the mask — ethan landry + reader ( scream ) : you don’t realise that ghostface is your enemy ethan until you’ve gone too far.
contents : slight choking, fingering, semi public sexual stuff (in an alleyway), enemies to kinda enemies who want to fuck, dub con, finger sucking. wc 2.7k
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"Which brings us to our suspect list," Mindy spoke, as the entire group sat at a campus off to the side and away from prying ears.
Ethan mockingly coughs, before muttering your name. You shoot him glare. "I'm sorry, who here has survived a Ghostface attack, that's right, not you." You bite at Ethan, adjusting yourself on the bench.
Ethan rolls his eyes. "And you survived pathetically." He mutters.
"Excuse me?" You snap your head back to Ethans direction. You'd never liked this boy, almost too "innocent", and always playing the victim.
"The only pathetic one here is you, Ethan." You hated each other. You could never pinpoint why, just the fact that you did. And everyone knew it. Your smile would always drop when he walked in, your tone turning sour. And Ethan's comments became harsher the moment you said anything.
Chad was surprised by how heated Ethan's anger for you was. He'd never seen the boy say such mean things with such confidence, its like he was a different person when you were around.
"Alright, you two can bicker later." Mindy quickly chimed in, continuing on with her suspect list. She faced Ethan who still had a scowl on his face. "Ethan, the shy, dorky guy, whose so shy and dorky that no one would ever suspect him."
You scoff. "You left out sad and alone." You comment, making Ethan shoot you glare to which you mockingly smiled.
You turn your attention to Mindy. "Don't waste your time on him. He doesn't have the guts to be Ghostface."
Ethan was offended, more than by any other comment you'd thrown at him. Didn't have the guts? He internally scoffs. Maybe he should cut out yours to replace his supposed faulty ones.
As Mindy went to speak on Quinn's sexual habits, tagging her as a suspect, you could feel Ethan's eyes burning holes into the back of your head. You turn to him, narrowing your eyes, before muttering 'what?'
He narrows his own, dragging his gaze along your face. He leans closer to whisper. "You look like you came out of hell."
"Mm, and I'd love to send you there." You hissed back, staying quiet so as not to ruin Mindy's ranting. She can get quite mean when you interrupted her passions.
"You could try." Ethan says, as you turn your head to fully face him. Your faces were close, scowls very present.
"I would try and succeed, Ethan. We both know I'd win."
Ethan scoffs in your face. "You seem awfully confident."
"Again who here has survived a Ghostface attack?" You ask tilting your head. "I can promise it means I have a streak for winning, and I happen to be rather competitive." You lean even closer, whispering in his ear. "You don't stand chance, sweetheart." You mock out the pet name, noticing the way his body tenses. Most likely out of anger.
You lean back putting your full attention on Mindy.
;;
The streets were decently busy with costumed poeple, laughing and joking. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Bringing it out you didn't bother checking the number assuming it was someone from your friend group checking you got home. "I'm fine, just walking—"
"To your apartment, I know." But the voice isn't one of the twins or the sisters.
"I'm sorry, I thought this was someone else." You say, skeptically. You gaze around, trying to see if anyone looked suspicious with a phone. Then when he spoke again, you finally realised and recognised the voice.
"You won't find me." A deep chuckle follows. Ghostface. You immediantly straighten, feeling the familiar shivers wracking your spine.
You clench your jaw. "I don't have time for this."
"Oh, no, you have plenty of time." Ghostface replies. "Because all you're going to do, is walk home, take out another tub of icecream and stare at men you can never have on the screen."
You open and close your mouth, feeling partly offended and the other part nervous. How would he know that? "Why'd you call?" You steer the conversation elsewhere, but Ghostface doesn't seem to want to, continuing on.
"You'd be wearing those little shorts that cover nothing, with that top that shows just how cold you usually are." You pause, swiftly trying to spot him on the street.
"You don't know that."
"Don't I?" You clench your teeth, because you did wear shorts for bed, and yes, they may be on the looser side, but it's not like you went out that late. You stayed home alone. Or so, you had thought.
"You're a creep."
"You sound surprised." Ghostface replies. "You shouldn't be. Though I guess there isn't too much going on in the pretty head of yours."
A snarl edges your lips. "You think you're so high and mighty, being a copycat to murderers who lost." You remind him.
"It's called carrying on the legacy." He quickly remarks, making you scoff. You had quickened your steps across the streets, deciding it best to get inside your apartment and behind a locked door.
"That "legacy" as you call it, sucks." You say, hearing a chuckle in repsonse.
"Does it? Because if I remember correctly, you always felt a shiver run down your spine when you heard my voice." He pauses, his smile practically seeable. "And not in a terrible way at all."
You gulp. "Now you're just making up shit."
"Really?" Ghostface probes. "So you don't feel all hot right now? A small rush from speaking to me, one that makes you excited. You don't feel that?"
Your mouth has dried, as you try to cool your body down, noticing how it—especially your core—heated up as the conversation continued. "Well, I'm sorry to say. But you're wrong. Very wrong."
"Do you want me to find out?" Ghostface asks, making you stop your steps, swiftly glancing around, your chest starting to heave quicker. "Because I'm afraid, I don't believe you, sweetheart."
"Is this some new tactic. Get me vulnerable in a...different way."
"You think me flirting with you is a tactic? Poor girl."
You scoff. "That wasn't flirting."
"Was I too subtle?" He asks, his tone showing his enjoyment.
You grind your teeth, having to stop, as a large group of what appears to be Halloween market-goers blocking the path. "Excuse me." You try, pushing past people, but they don't budge making you scowl at them.
"Are you stuck?" You can hear Ghostface say on the other line. "Do you need help?"
"Hang the fucking phone up. And stop acting like some scary villain, when you're really just some third grader doing prank calls." You hiss, trying again to push past the loud crowd.
Ghostface chuckles, as you end up getting pushed aside against a stall, making you curse. "You seem to have a lot of incorrect assumptions." He begins. 'I'm getting quite offended here."
"Oh, I'm so sorry." You sarcastically say, trying again to weave through the growing crowd.
"You're rather mean actually." He mockingly pouts out.
"And you kill people. Are we done?" You ask, getting exasperated by the phone call and the rude people.
"Not even close." And then you hear the beep of an 'end of call', making you bring the phone away. But before you can do anything more, a hand grabs your arm yanking you through the crowd. You gasp as bodies collide with your fast moving one.
You can't see a thing before you're pushed up against a cold wall, finally away from the crowd, but now in a dark alleyway. You finally see the white mask of Ghostface as he cages you against the wall.
Your chest is heaving as your breathing stutters out, everything having happened extremely fast. Ghostface tilts his head as you hear a dark chuckle breaking through the modulator. "You are stupidly confident."
Words get caught in your throat as you try to swallow something down. "Aw, cat caught your tongue?" He coos, his gloved hand dragging across your neck, making your entire body stiffen. Everyone knew that if you got a call from Ghostface you were marked to die. And here he was, probably preparing to gut you.
You quickly shut your eyes, seeming the only thing you can control at the moment, because you weren't dumb enough to think you could bypass him and run. There's a moment where you just hear Ghostface's heavy breathing, as the distant sound of the halloween market goes on behind you both.
Then you feel the rough material of his glove slowly dragging across your bottom lip. You swiftly open your eyes shocked. You can feel your pulse beating everywhere—everywhere. You can't tell what Ghostface is thinking or where he's looking because of his stupid mask. You tried to see through the thin material made for the eyes but it's too dark to pinpoint anyone's eyes.
"So stupid." He quietly says, almost to himself as his finger drags across the in between of your lips, getting your spit on his finger. You don't know what to do. You don't know what's going on. Why isn't the knife inside you?
Then his hand leads down to grip your neck, beginning to tighten, as your hands quickly fly up to grab his wrist. His other hand is placed by your hip, keeping you trapped. "You're always so arrogant." He says, tightening a fraction. Your throat feels small as your breaths grow shorter.
You dig your nails into his arm and wrist trying to pull him off you. But he doesn't budge, his other hand now grabbing at your waist. "But also so dirty." He husks out, as he pulls your hips to press against his, making a choked gasp escape you. He finally loosens his hold on your throat, just enough so that air can get in much easier.
"What would your friends think, knowing you have a thing for a killer in a mask? The killer in a mask." He sneers, his hand at your waist travelling dangerously low, now reaching your inner thigh.
"What—" But you cut yourself off as Ghostface pulls your legs apart, lifting one to rest on his hip. Your eyes widen upon feeling how hard he is against your shameful, throbbing pussy. His hand drops down to feel your wetness through your panties, your skirt having bunched up by your hips at the compromising postion.
Your mouth is open in shock. Ethan behind the mask stares at you, as he feels just how turned on you really are. His chest is heaving, as his bulge begs for attention. Why was he grabbing you like this? He hated you. He had wanted to scare, if he ended up particually mad possibly kill you, hurt you maybe. But certainly not touch you.
But as he had begun to realise your very secret crush on Ghostface he used it to his advantage. But in the process of thinking what a slut you are, he began to think on how you could be a slut for him. Begging for him to touch you as pathetic whimpers and moans escaped you. How pathetic you'd look all for him.
His grip around your neck tightened before loosening, moving up to your open mouth as he stuck two fingers in, wanting to feel your mouth wrapping around them, wanting to see your spit on his glove. "Suck them."
Your eyes stayed wide, as you stared at the now very intimidating Ghostface. You slowly closed your mouth around his fingers as your tongue began to circle the tangy tasting farbic. "That's it..." He breathes as he began to thrust them in and out of your mouth, your spit now coating your lips as you sucked. "Look at you, such a slut for a mystery guy with a knife."
Behind the mask, his eyes had hooded, his cock now aching at the visual. You were powerless against him, and that rush made him, bypass your panties, reaching to drag his gloved finger right up your slit, spreading your wetness around. Your hips jolted into him as he rubs over your clit, a sound that seemed close to a whine coming out muffled through his working fingers.
As Ethan watched you suck his fingers, while he rubbed your aching pussy he felt this need to kiss you, lick up all the saliva that had drippled onto your bottom lip. But he couldn't take his mask of yet. He wanted you to know who was giving you so much pleasure when you were at your peak, begging for him. Ethan felt undeniably smug at the thought of you cumming onto his fingers. The boy you hated.
He then—as compensation for his waiting—thrusted a finger inside you without warning. "God—that was so easy. You're just that wet for me, that your little hole was so eager to let me in." His breath through the mask is by your ear as you shuddered. He pulled his now dripping fingers out of your mouth, spreading your spit across your bottom lip as your dazed gaze makes him move his hand to your neck, loving how small it felt in his grasp.
He grinned behind the mask as he added a second finger, pumping in and out of you. Your hands were gripping at his cloak, your mind a haze of pleasure, as you had begun to grind into his hand. "Fuck, your such a little slut, letting me finger you in an alleyway. Someone could find you, you know?"
A whimper escaped you as he curled his fingers inside you. "Such a naughty girl being so dirty for Ghostface."
"Shit—" You breathed harshly, as his thrusts quickened.
You could feel your stomach contgracting with your impending orgasm, and Ethan could tell by how hard you clenched around his fingers. He stopped inside you, making a pathetic whine leave your lips, your orgasm so so close.
"P-please." You say, breathless, as you try to thrust your hips into his fingers wanting friction. But Ethan just pushed you harder against the wall, keeping you still. He then brought his hand to his mask, finally thrusting his fingers into you again as you moan.
He pulled off his mask, not being able to wait before kissing you. You gasp through the kiss not having expected him to take of his mask, or feel his lips at all. Your eyes had immediantly shut as he sucked on your bottom lip, his tongue esploring your mouth eagerly.
And as he finally drew back, breath heavy, you met his gaze. You gasped with a mix of suprise, and pleasure. His fingers having quickened inside you. "What—" You choke, as Ethan grins, his curls a mess, as he stays pressed to your shaking body. "E-ethan?'
"Hi, y/n." He grins as your mouth opens in pleasure as you stutter out incoherently. "Shh," Ethan chuckles, curling his fingers inside you. "I didn't know you were such a slut." He says, as the sound of your arousel fills the otherwise distant noises.
"Actually that's a lie," He begins. "I knew how much of a slut you really were, having a thing for Ghostface..." He thrusts harder into you, your stomach tightening.
"Oh god— Ethan—" Pleasure crashes over you as your head hits back against the hard wall, your body shaking as your orgasm courses through you.
"Mm." Ethan hums as he slows inside you, continuing to watch as your face contorts in pleasure, all because of him. "I thought you hated me."
"I did. I do." You quickly say, as your body feels extremely heavy, your mind trying to wrap around the truth that was revealed.
Ethan shakes his head, leaning towards your ear, licking your earlobe. "Then why moan my name?"
"I—" You didn't know what to say. Because you had. And you had felt very far from hatred when you saw his familiar brown curls come into view.
Ethan felt powerful with how stuck you were. Physically and mentally. His breath tickled your now wet ear, his kitten licks having continued. "Do you wanna show me just how much of a crush you have on Ghostface, or do you wanna try and prove how much you hate me?"
You met his gaze and knew you were fucked. Physically and mentally.
A better way to put it would be entirely.
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© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.
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sublimetragedychopshop · 11 months
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I’m a sucker for pretty yan x monster darling. Like this person is thought to be the PERSONIFICATION of beauty. Nations come to catch a glimpse of them. They most likely have a cult dedicated to them too which would explain why anyone that makes them unhappy is “punished” (humiliated, tortured and cast out). They probably know the power they hold too! Or maybe they don’t!
Beauty! Yan that could fall in love with LITERALLY any one in the WHOLE world. Only for them to skip the whole way home and write in their diary, about their big fat crush on MONSTER! Darling. Hearts and hearts and hearts. Combinations of mixed names that has both of yours together. (They probably had to lurk around a lot to find out your name, people like to call you mean names which took them a while) a full entire chapter of BABY NAMES! Detailed descriptions of their lewdest fantasies, enough to make even a nymph blush. They already seemed to have gone through 20 diaries since they met you. Its okay! They have enough money to buy more, and usually people offer to by their stuff for them.
Monster! Reader who is described, by others as a “big, mean, ugly thing”. Really you were quite good looking for your species (if you said so yourself, and asked the Yan) you are too big to fit inside a normal house, almost 5” feet bigger than the tallest man in the world. Your body is built like a fucking mountain, strength to the GODS. Though people may not like you, your strength does get you a lot of jobs so that you can earn money.
I don’t have enough brain juice to describe how you met this protected beauty, but you got them hooked! Really, it is kind of funny. Most likely monster reader doesn’t even want to associate themselves with them. It only brings trouble. And death. They’ve seen it and don’t wanna be near them. And we’ll as much as pretty! Yan wants to be around you, they know that if they do people might harm you (they already get sad and depressed if you get hurt on the job) so they have to stalk you from a yard away. Kinda hard when the whole town had their eyes on you. I can imagine the only way they would stalk you is if you live in a house in your own little isolated part of the woods. They know the trail by heart and even come inside when your away. They caress your trinkets and self made goods, admire every single one of your decorations, lay on your oversized bed that is the biggest and comfiest thing they’ve felt and seen. Your scent clouding their senses that they can’t help but masturbate on your bed. It tips them over the edge. And they don’t even try to hide it. Thinking that you don’t even notice it (you do, your senses higher than a humans) and just go on with their little role play in their head. Thinking to themselves as if they were your lovely little spouse that waits home for you everyday. They clean and wash all your clothes (they want to cook but the sizes of the ingredients are way too big for their small arms).
Really they are the perfect spouse for you! Being raised to perfection they would be the perfect spouse for anyone! Too bad they’ll get rid of anyone who gets in the way of their happily ever after…
(I might edit or add more later honestly I’ve just been wanting to post this for a while)
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sincerelyrki · 17 days
Text
MINI SKIRT
↳ fourteen : MAN FUCK SONG KANG!
warnings : sunwoo is kinda sad
wc : 1.4k (1431)
previous | masterlist | next
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Dread filled your body the second you opened your apartment door, eyes narrowing at the familiar pair of shoes situated right beside your designated spot. The shoes were your first hint.
In the center top row was a pair of low-rise Amiri sneakers, the pearly white hue standing out against your collection of darker shoes. 
Sunwoo was the only person you knew who wore Amiri, his devotion for the brand evident through his dozens of pairs sat along the walls of his closet. 
The second hint that Sunwoo actually came over was your mom's loud voice, her giggles a little too high-pitched to be directed toward anyone else. The tone was one she only used around two people, and he just happened to be one of them.
You tried to keep your presence a secret, light on your feet as you deftly tiptoed through the entrance, sock-clad feet almost gliding against the ground. 
You stopped as you reached the corner, fingers gently holding against the wall as you attempted to peak around the corner. 
Sunwoo stood with his back facing you, his lower body resting against the counter as he leaned over it and towards your mom.
His leather jacket was discarded on the seat behind him, hung in a specific way that allowed you to make out the design. In the center, there was a singular bear, the sunglasses standing out against its white fur. It was the exact bear you designed in high school, the same one that was stitched across all your older designs.
The jacket was the first piece of clothing that you’ve ever made for someone else, gifting it to Sunwoo as a graduation gift.
Since the day he received it, Sunwoo had claimed that it was his favourite thing he had ever owned, the proof of his words sitting bright under the overhead lights. 
Without any purpose you walked towards him, body gravitating towards the jacket Sunwoo had attached to his hip. It hurt to see it, it always did. 
It felt like a reminder of everything everyone’s been telling you for years, a reminder that Sunwoo was completely in love with you. As the seasons passed and the sunsets faded, Sunwoo changed. 
His eonion change would remain unending but his devotion to you was the only thing that he couldn’t seem to escape. He wasn’t naive, just foolishly wishful. 
But he stood no chance against kismet. He was destined to meet you, but never to be with you. His longing blurred between the lines of the story you began writing without him, his love getting caught in the seams of the pages that began to flip before he could finish the previous ones. 
The words eventually overwrote his vows, his desperation seeping out in waves of forced separation. The harder he pulled, the more you pushed. And in the moments where you feel further than ever, he did what he thought he had to do.
He knew it was dramatic to call your parents, but he also knew what their presence would bring. They pulled you together, red yarn weaving between your fingers as they attempted to tie the two of you together.
If calling your parents over the smallest things, over things he forced himself to worry about, brought you back into his arms then he would do it forever. He would call them every day, lips spilling nonsense as the red yarn on his finger turned to ash.
But he still wasn’t naive, he knew what he was doing. 
“Sunwoo?” It didn’t come as a shock when he stood unwavering at your voice, he knew exactly how this would play out. And so he tilted his head towards you, a small smirk on his face as your eyes connected.
Even with the anger so visually obvious, he couldn’t stop his heart from melting. It rushed down his veins, throbbing as it bloomed across his face in a sudden burst.
His pink cheeks housed his now genuine smile, the corners of his mouth pulling up in a way that only you could create. “Hey, sweets” He ignored your mom’s audible swooning, his eyes never leaving yours as his entire body reacted to your presence.
“Why are you here?” His favourite song played in his head as you walked even closer to him, stopping as you reached the chair behind him. 
Your fingers gently traced along the prominent stitch around the shoulder area of his jacket, nails barely ghosting it. You looked up after a moment of silence, his words never leaving his pith as he stared at you with a familiar look.
“You shouldn’t be here” It was easy to read Sunwoo, but the way he reacted to your words was in a way that you’ve never seen before. 
You’ve never seen him freeze like that, seen the way his eyes widened to an unfamiliar extent. “What?” Sunwoo tried not to panic, hoping that your unforeseen dialogue wouldn’t change the entire interaction.
“I mean, we haven’t talked in like two or three days?” He had to bite his tongue to not scream out the exact time, the hours ticking in his mind as he watched the clock tick in his mind. 
“I needed to talk to you and I clearly couldn’t do it on text” He tried his best to keep up his front, ignoring the way his heart stopped beating the second you sheepishly scratched your cheek.
“Yeah…” You trailed off not knowing how to respond, lips curling into each other as you stared at a general spot on the wall behind him. 
“Yn, what did I tell you about blocking people?” Your mom's stern voice caused you to jump, the remembrance of her presence causing you to soften your exterior.
“It’s rude, imagine how Sunwoo feels after being blocked by you for like half the year” Your mom reached up towards the taller boy, her hands squishing his cheeks together as he pulled his head to rest on her shoulder.
Without auguring, Sunwoo allowed her to manhandle him, bending his body as she pulled him against her. 
As mad as you were at Sunwoo, you couldn’t stop the giggle from leaving your lips at the sight. Your mom was fairly short, reaching a height of barely over five feet. It was amusing to see her controlling a man much taller than her, her strong arms working in her favour.
“You feel hurt, don’t you?” She more stated than questioned, using her own hands to nod his head up and down. She gasped in fake shock, turning her glaring eyes towards you. 
“See? Apologize, right now!” Her glare transferred through you, reflecting in your mirrored eyes as you directed it toward Sunwoo this time.
“Mom, he was mean to me first?” 
You all went into a cycle of blaming each other before ultimately apologizing to each other, one more genuine than the other.
“Oh also, Who’s Jake? I remember Sunwoo mentioning his name to me a few days ago”
The betrayed look in your eyes was nothing compared to your response, Sunwoo’s throat clogging as the room stilled.
“He’s a friend, a real friend. Don’t worry too much about it, we just began talking a few days ago.”
a real friend. Sunwoo wasn’t sure if there was a double meaning behind your words, but after today's turn of events he wouldn’t trust his own judgment too much. 
“Is he cute?” Your mom squealed out loud as you nodded your heart, her body racing towards yours as she linked her arm around yours. “He’s really cute, you’d love him”
Your phone loudly vibrated in your back pocket, the sound unknown to your mom as she animatedly blabbered about your “unknown man”.
Sunwoo watched over your shoulder as you tapped the screen to life, an unfamiliar contact lighting up your screen. He wanted nothing more than to break down the second he saw the bright smile that overwhelmed your face as you read the text. 
Sunwoo has never hated someone more. But he’s also never wanted to be someone else as much as he did now. 
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a/n : i’ve been so busy for the last like three days 😭 easter messed up my entire schedule. anywaysss, i’ve been addicted to song kang lately (hence his recent mentions) i just finished my demon a few days ago and omg…. ALSO THESE BOOPS ?? i’m obsessed they’re so cute
SYNOPSIS ⮕ You know Jake Sim and you love Prada, it was already a perfect combination. You just happened to always be in the same place as him, at the same time. And that place just happened to be the Prada store. It’s not your fault that your Prada collection expands as your interactions grow. Especially not considering that Jake couldn’t stop himself from fawning over you (and your mini skirts).
taglist is OPEN ! send an ask or comment to be added xoxo
taglist one (1) : @vousty @iheartjayke @kgneptun @woninluv @memooooca @rosas-in-the-garden @thea-herondale @letters2won @certified-ni-ki-lover @wonpoem @eunbiland @hae-luvr @t00miee @bbangricz @tytrackfebreze @cafeyuns @aerivrs @seunnimg @enhytan @enhaz1 @neocockthotology @jiawji @miumiuestmoi @sophi-ee @cha0thicpisces @manooffline @glassesyunjin @rinahch @jaklvbucb @rikizm @ilyjxdz @mnxnii @n1k1mura @hhoonsbaby @xiaoderrrr @artstaeh @nikisuar @who-tf-soddhi @jakeslvt @hohohobo @natsukee @fakeuwus @ramenoil @aeminju @lanapaz @seunghancore @heartswonn @jakeyverse @l1lyanah @sunpov @yoitsrach @jessicadacollest @h4918ymc @jeongintwt @oldjws @herebyaccident0 @kyrojackson @haechansbbg | bold = can’t tag
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castiwls · 9 days
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champagne problems - d.w
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Paring; dean x reader
Prompt; 'Sometimes you just don't know the answer 'Til someone's on their knees and asks you."She would've made such a lovely bride. What a shame she's fucked in the head," they said'
Requested; @arcticwisteria
Notes; No the first time i heard this song I IMMEDIATELY thought of dean :( Also this is quite sad oop but I kinda flipped the prompt so its not the woman saying no but instead its the man it just fitted better in my head. requests are open!
Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist
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The tension in the room was thick. The clock ticking seemed to echo throughout the room getting louder and louder with each passing minute as you both sat in silence. For the first time in your relationship, you had no idea what to say or do. You felt helpless as you sat at the kitchen table, your hands clenching and unclenching rhythmically. “So,” You lay your hands flat on the table looking up at the man sitting opposite you. “This is it? Three years down the drain.” You nodded. You couldn’t help the bitterness that seemed to lace into your tone as you spoke.
The realistic part of your brain knew that it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t Dean’s fault that his childhood had messed him up so much that now as an adult he struggled with any relationship. You’d know what you were getting into when you’d first began this relationship. You’d known the baggage that came with loving Dean Winchester yet you’d pushed it away because you were so utterly in love with him.
Yet in this moment, you were wondering if you’d possibly made a mistake. If maybe you’d been so blinded with love that you’d overlooked one too many things. 
“Are you gonna say anything?” You flatted your hands on the table looking up at him. Dean’s gaze was locked on the wall behind you. “Dean! Say something…please.” Your voice broke off slightly at the last word. Dean’s eyes finally moved to yours and for the first time, you noticed the way his eyes seemed to glisten slightly. 
“I can’t marry you. I…I can’t” He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth before letting out an airy laugh. “I thought I could. I’ve thought about it for so long but…”
“But you can’t actually do it.” Your hands played with the small red box in your hands. You’d found it on accident a month ago. He’d hidden it in baby’s glove box and that’s where it had lay, slowly collecting dust for the past few months. “You bought the ring, but you can’t actually ask me.” You stared incredulously at him.
Placing the box beside you, you reached out to grasp one of his hands. “What if I asked you?” 
Dean stared at you for a moment. His expression unreadable. “No. He spoke quietly his gaze locked on your hands. “What?” You felt your eyes widen slightly at his bluntness. Dean took a breath before his eyes moved from your hands to your face. He placed his hand over you. “No. I can’t marry you. I thought…I thought the answer was a yes. Sweetheart believe me I did.” He softened his gaze as he watched your eyes slowly begin to fill with tears of their own.
“So what changed.” Your voice wavered slightly as you spoke. You wanted nothing more at this moment than to kick and scream to your heart’s content. “I realised I am far from husband material. That’s what.” A frown pulled at his lips. 
“How do you know that? You are a perfectly good boyfriend. If you weren’t I wouldn’t be sat here right now.” You swallowed trying to hold the tears which threatened to spill back. Dean let out a breath before slowly letting go of your hands. “Because I know I’m messed up alright. And I refuse to burden you with that. Being your boyfriend means you can walk away, I can let you go.” Dean rubbed a palm across his eyes, wiping away the tears which were slowly beginning to fall. “If we get married i can’t let you go.” He finished, his voice dropping to merely a whisper. 
You sucked in a breath, feeling the damn behind your eyes slowly begin to break. “Letting me go?” You shook your head. “No. No, I am not walking away from you Dean. I’m not walking away from us.” You said firmly feeling your face dampen with your tears.
You watched with bated breath as the man opposite you slowly rose from his seat and moved beside you. “Your gonna find someone else. Someone else who's gonna love you and who’s gonna get down on one knee and make you so happy.” He placed a hand on your cheek. “You're gonna get that apple pie life I know you’ve always wanted. But I can’t be the one to give you that.”
His thumb slowly stroked your cheek as his eyes slowly travelled across your face almost as if he was mapping it out. “I’m sorry.” He whispered before leaning forward to press his lips to yours.
Your hand gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer. After a moment he pulled back. “I love you.” Dean smiled at you, tears slowly falling from his eyes as he stood from his seat. 
It killed him inside to walk away but he knew he had to. He could never be what you needed and with him in your life, you would never find what you needed.
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princessbrunette · 7 days
Note
ugh babydaddy!rafe is down soooo bad for reader !! i can totally see him suggesting a little weekend getaway, just the two of them while his family watches their daughter. it’s like their first time really alone together and brings back all these memories and how much they care about each other, kinda questioning why they didn’t just stay together 🤍
✧˖°. ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა ✧˖°.
mhmmm i love that idea. just a week in the bahamas or something, taking you and your baby to restaurants etc. people know him around there because of the influence the cameron family has, and bc they own property out there — so when people introduce themselves to you, he finds it easier to just call you his girl than to explain your whole situation. maybe even calling you his wife or whatever to avoid judgement :( you get to play pretend, and you hate how much you enjoy it.
you only agreed to the trip so that you could spend time as a family, but as the week goes on you find yourself getting closer, touchier with eachother, letting him look after you and your baby and pamper you the way you deserve. a look into your life if you’d had just stayed with him instead of being stubborn and thinking he wouldn’t change from his old ways :(
i think this trip would change things and by the end of the week he’s got you naked on the big king sized bed whilst your babies asleep in another room, big ringed hands scooped beneath your ass as he grinds his cock in and out of you.
“missed this, mm—” you manage to squeak out, your eyes filled with tears, emotions running high as he takes you apart.
“yeah well, won’t have to miss it anymore baby, yeah? always been my girl, s’not fuckin’ changing anytime soon.” he pants, pushing your thighs up to roll his hips deeper into you making you whine.
“shh, hey.” he whispers against your mouth, silencing you with a kiss so you didn’t wake up the little one. “shit, got me thinking about givin’ you another baby.”
you start acting like a proper couple after that, letting him walk you around with his hand on your waist or ass. giving you little kisses between conversations. you don’t know how things are gonna be when you get home and you worry about confusing the baby, feeling sad on your last day of the trip. you lean your head against his chest as the two of you look over the water on his boat.
“whats gonna happen now?” you sigh.
“… huh?”
“dont wanna go home. wish things could just stay like this and not get complicated.”
he turns you around by the waist, taking his sunglasses off to look at you. “its not complicated, alright? we’ll… we’ll figure it out… and shit, if it gets complicated we’ll just… come back here. right?” he shrugs. usually you’d roll your eyes at such a reckless statement, but now it didn’t sound too bad.
✧˖°. ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა ✧˖°.
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firelilyfox · 20 days
Text
Choose Your Next Words Carefully
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Dune: Paul Atreides x female reader
Warnings: se&ual harassment (assault) / cursing / angst / blood
Words: 2k
Summary: Paul & you were childhood friends but suddenly he distanced from you. On a night full of celebration you get into trouble & Paul protects you … but what happened two years ago?
______________________
Caladan looked even more beautiful at night. 
You are watching the peaceful waves collapsing under the balcony you are standing on. Behind the whole castle is celebrating another victory against the Harkonnen. A soft breeze lets the fabric of your dress flow in the wind and you take a deep breath of the salty air. 
It wasn’t your wish to be here tonight, but your father insisted that you would watch him getting honored for his work for Duke Leto. And you did. But when the duke’s son joined the celebration, you had to get out of there as soon as possible. 
You and Paul Atreides had a very … complicated past. 
As long as you could remember you had a crush on him and he knew it all along. When the two of you were younger, you would play everyday and make mischief all around the castle. But suddenly you barley saw him once a week and Paul acted kinda cold around you. Once you wanted to talk to him about his weird behavior, he just laughed at you and made fun of you for having a crush on him. Everybody around could hear him laughing and began to pity you for being so naive. 
The daughter of a soldier would never be good enough for a future Duke. 
You never spoke to Paul again. This was two years ago, but every time you see him at big events, your heart tightens and you become overwhelmed with sadness and anger. How could he do something like that to you? Even if he never had felt the same for you as you did for him … friends don’t hurt each other like that. 
„What are you doing out here?“, a voice asked behind you. When you turned around you saw a man standing there, looking at you with a drunk smile. It was a friend of your father. A soldier, just like him. 
„Just catching some fresh air“, you said. 
The man comes closer to you, stumbling over his own feet. His wrinkly face showed many scars from battle in the past. „It is dangerous … for a young Lady … out here.“ 
He leans towards you, but you duck away from him. „Uh.. thanks for the heads up. I will go inside … where its safer.“ 
As you turn your back again, you can hear him mumbling something about find me later, but you don’t want to keep listening to this creepy guy.  
Quickly your feet carrying you inside the great hall, where most of the people are dancing and drinking. You couldn’t see your father anywhere because you are shorter than most of the men and women here. So you decide to get on one of the stone benches to get a better view from up there. 
„These things are meant to sit on, you know?“ 
Green eyes. A crooked grin. Freckles. 
„What do you know, Atreides? Shouldn’t your royal ass be sitting on a throne or something?“
Paul chuckles. „Sassy as always. Some things never change, hm?“ 
You rolled your eyes and went back to keep on looking for your father, so you could finally leave this goddamn party. That’s when Paul joined you on the bench. 
„What are we looking for?“, he asked amused. 
You’re frowning at him. „WE are not looking for anything. I am looking for my father. And YOU should leave me alone, Atreides.“ 
Paul looks confused. „Have you forgotten my first name? It’s Paul, you know?“ He smiled again and you catch yourself almost smiling at his dumb joke. But you manage to pull yourself together before that happens. It almost felt like when you were kids. 
„Fuck off, Paul.“ You jump from the bench and trying to make a way through the crowd of drunk, dancing people. Paul follows you. 
„You tell your future Duke to fuck off? Hah! You are as brave as I remember“, he says laughing. Before you could respond anything, Paul grabs your wrist and turns you around. His other hand holding your waist and you find yourself pressed against him. The high difference forces you to look up at him. 
„What are you doing?“, you stutter. 
A smirk appears on his face, as if he know how much impact his presence has on you. „I’m dancing with you. I mean we are on the dance floor.“ 
For a moment you let yourself enjoy the feeling of being so close to him. The pressure of his hand on your lower back, his chest moving against yours. Your fingers on his bicep. Hands holding each other. This was something you always dreamed about. Your heart begins to pound like crazy. His smile faded and his gaze softened. Now he looks at you like you are the only thing that is existent. Time moves slower. Noise faded. Only you and him. 
Paul leans his forehead against yours, closings his eyes and he takes a deep breath. The moment was intimate and all you wished for at some point … but it felt wrong. 
„What has gotten into you tonight?“ You pushed him away. A hurt expression crossed his face and you almost felt bad. „Two years, Paul. Two years and now this?“ 
Without waiting for a stupid response you took off and managed to find a way through the crowd out in the hallways. Tears filled your eyes, but you are to stubborn to let them run down your face, exposing your hurt feelings. 
Desperate for some privacy you opened a small door and find an empty room with sofas. The perfect hiding spot until you’ll be able to shove down your feelings again. 
„I see. The Lady found me.“ 
A high pinched scream escaped your throat as you were grabbed roughly by the shoulders and got pushed down on one of the sofas. Your head slammed against something hard and you feel warm blood running down your cheek. 
The man from the balcony holds you down with a big smile on his face. His gaze is hidden in shadows but you recognize him. 
„Let me go! My father will behead you with his own hands!“ You scream at him, trying to get away but against his heavy body you have no chance. 
He was not listening and even if he was, he seemed not to care. The man took one hand of your shoulder to grab you by the neck to choke you and the other hand loosened up his pants. 
„No. No please. No“, you beg for him to stop. 
„Not so bratty anymore, hm? I shall teach you a lesson you little slut! I will…“ 
But his words came to stop. Slowly you opened your eyes again, as his grip around your neck got loose again. You could see a knife at his throat, forcing him to stop and not move a muscle. The hand, that was holding the knife belonged to … Paul. 
He was standing behind the man. His eyes dark and full of rage. The knife scratching the skin and making the old man bleed a little bit. 
The old guy shouted in anger. „Whoever dares to interrupt me will be punished!“ 
Paul chuckled dangerously silent and forced the man to turn around to look at him. His eyes widened in shock. „My Lord“, he whispered. „I didn’t know that you own this whore … I mean I …“ 
„If I were you“, Paul interrupted him with a deadly glance. „I would choose my next words very carefully.“ 
Paul lays more pressure on the knife and it’s cutting deeper into his skin. The man began to whimper. Before the damage would be irreversible, Paul pushed him to the ground. 
„I won’t wash my hands in your blood.“ As if he had given a silent sign, two guards came in to drag the man outside. „These guys will handle that.“ 
You look at Pauls back. He was standing there like a true leader. Like the man he became. He was not a child anymore … and neither were you. 
As the door closes again he dropped the knife and turned around to you. Faster than lighting he got down on one knee to met your eyes at the same hight. His hands cupping your face and he wipes your tears away that mixed up with the blood. 
„Does it hurt badly?“, he asked with a soft voice. The contrast to his fearless and deadly side couldn’t be any bigger. 
You shake your head. „No it’s fine.“ 
„He will be beheaded in the morning. You don’t have to worry about seeing him ever again.“ Paul tries to calm you down. His eyes holding your own captured and you weren’t able to look away. 
„Thanks. I mean …“, you shake your head again getting rid of his hands. „I should go now.“ 
You stand up and opening the door. Paul is standing right behind you, pushing the door shut again. His hand were right next to your head but you refuse tu turn around right away. 
„Please let me explain“, he whispered. Paul was so close, that you could feel his breath on your skin. You sigh but still refuse to turn around to look at him. 
„There is nothing to explain. I know everything that I need to know.“ 
„You asked me what has gotten into me tonight.“ 
You stay silent. 
Paul sighted. „My father told me that I don’t have to be married to be the next Duke.“
Confusion brings you to look over your shoulder and met his sad green eyes. The honesty in them lets you turn around. „What does that have to do with me?“ 
He smiled but it looked so sad and broken. „Everything. I … i stayed away from you on purpose, y/n.“ 
„What do you mean?“ 
„The day you told me, that you … you had feelings for me, was the same day my father told me to that I have to marry Princess Irulan in the future. I was so mad at him because I already lost my heart to someone and I … but he said that it had to be this way.“ 
„So you let out your anger about your father out on me?“, you asked angrily. 
Paul shakes his head. „No. I just thought … if you would hate me … then it would be easier for me to stay away from you.“ 
Suddenly all fell right into place. His behavior on that day two years ago made much more sense … he was cold and distant but… 
You punched him on the arm. „That still don’t give you the permission to act like an asshole!“ 
Paul smiled and nodded apologetically. „You are right but I was young and not so smart like I thought I wished to be.“ 
A moment of silence fell over the two of you. Just the eyes spoke louder than a voice could ever manage to do. 
„So … you lost your heart to someone else than your reflection in the mirror?“, you joked. 
„God I missed your sassy mouth so much!“ Paul laughed and it was the first real laughter you heard from him for such a long time. „Yeah i did. Even if my reflection is pretty stunning … nothing compares to the girl that I lost my heart and soul to.“ 
Paul gently laid his hand on your cheek making sure you keep on looking into his eyes before  he kept on talking. „I always loved you, y/n. Of course I did! How could I not love you?“ 
Tears start to fill your eyes again … but this time for a good reason. 
„You are still an asshole for behaving like that, Atreides.“ 
His smile melted your heart away. „Will you forgive me?“ 
You nod. 
Paul slowly leans towards you and when his lips met yours, there where nothing else to say. 
229 notes · View notes
qtboni · 8 months
Note
hi AGAIN.
ugh i cant get out of your fucking page. its like i live here like a rat
im back, hi, have another req bc i just thought of it and needed it in my veins.
how about some comfort from fatherfigure!price? like reader is sad kinda and he helps? maybe reader "accidentally" calls him dad, nothing to /srs
(im mentally okay i swear😭)
idk if you even do price tbh, i haven't seen it on your page tho
anyways i needed to write this somewhere or ill forget and like wither away into nothing or sum shit
im being dramatic. i think.
okay thats it bye bye dearest boni.
(sorry im constently blowing up your asks😭😭)
HAI LOVIE !! THIS WAS SO FUNNY TO WRITE AGHSHS ALSO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LOMG OMG.
��﹒ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐃 𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 ?
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PAIRING: Captain 'John' Price X Reader
C/W: comfort & humor! + gn!reader, explicit words, price playin' wit chu, somebody ate your cake (it was soap don't tell him tho /hj)
W/C: 1.3k
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"What's got you looking so down today, sergeant?" Captain Price asked in his usual stern voice as he entered the living room, noticing the dejected look on your face.
You had been sitting on the sofa for hours now, cleaning your holster and moping around. He approached you with a glass of water in hand.
"Somebody ate my cake," you slowly replied, your voice heavy with emotion. You didn't usually get sad over such small things, but today, you feel so tired.
"Are you telling me that you're this upset over a slice of cake?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his tone. Captain Price raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised to hear something like that coming from you.
"I guess I am," you said, your voice barely audible. You shrugged and looked down at your holster, not wanting to admit to being such a crybaby. "I was saving it for this specific rest day to ... indulge myself with sweets.."
Captain Price's expression softened as he placed the glass of water down next to you. He sat down on the sofa next to you and put an arm around your shoulders.
"Listen, sergeant," he said in a comforting tone, "It's okay to be upset about something. Everyone has their own quirks and things that are important to them. And in our line of work, we need to be able to deal with any situation and not let little stuff like this get us down."
"Thanks, Cap'," you said, a hint of embarrassment in your voice. You smiled at him, grateful for the reassurance.
"Any time," He replied with a soft smile. He then stood up and left the room, returning a few minutes later with two fairly large cookies, handing it to you. "Here, this should cheer you up."
"No way," You were overjoyed, your face lighting up with a smile.
"Yes way," He replied, playfully eyeing the cookies then to you. "Have it, yeah?"
"Dad, oh my god," You squealed excitedly, taking a bite out of the cookie, savoring the taste of the sweetness and the tenderness. "This is so sweet of you. Thank you so much!"
Oh no. Dad? Did you just call your captain, 'dad'?
Avoiding the embarrassment of calling your captain 'dad' in a moment of vulnerability, you silently prayed that he hadn't heard it. This was going to be awkward, and the thought of having to explain yourself was making you cringe.
Just play it off...
Now as much as Price wants to give you the other cookie for you to eat, he retracted his hand away from your grabby hands, not letting you get one.
"Cap?" Your hands stay levitated, clearly ready to munch on the cookie on your Captain's grip.
Did he caught on?
"Hm?"
You had to think fast. Change the subject before things got too awkward!
"Are.. are you going to eat that?"
"Nope."
"Then why- actually no, just- isn't that for me?"
"Correct," He chuckles as he continued dangling the pastry infront of you.
Silence.
You stared at him incredulously, your hand visibly itching to just pounce on the cookie and munch on it.
What was your captain doing?
"See, the funny thing is, kid," He trailed off as he waves the cookie back and forth with his hand up in the air. He smirks when your eyes followed the cookie's movement. "I haven't thought much of being a father."
Shit. Play it off...
You hummed in confusion, tilting your head in curiosity.
Where was he going with this? And also, can he just give you the cookie? After all, he gave it to you, right?
Just give me the cookie, dammit.
"Let alone..." He paused and looked at you in the eyes. Shit. "Someone calling me one, aye?"
You feel like you could sink into the ground and vanish from existence. The embarrassment was too much to bear!
"...Who?"
Bye.
Captain Price chuckles at you, "Don't play dumb on me now, sergeant."
Your mind is racing, trying to think of something to say. You stuttered a reply, "I- Capta-"
But before you know it, he interrupts your thoughts with his sharp wit.
"Oh? It was 'Dad' a second ago, wasn't it?" He retorded with a proud smirk playing across his lips, looking at you with an air of amusement and teasing. He knows exactly what to say to get under your skin and he's not afraid to use it to his advantage.
It's clear that he wants an answer, but all you can do is sputter a few incoherent words before retreating back into your shell. You feel a mix of embarrassment and frustration, wishing you could come up with a clever come-back, but the only thing that's clear right now is that Price has you stumped.
"Sergeant?" He calls out to you teasingly, awaiting for your reply to his question.
"Mhm?" You can feel your ears slowly turning red as your Captain's teasing hits a nerve. You can't seem to quite meet his eyes, instead looking at the ground with an embarrassed blush. You fidget with the straps of your holster, unable to quite figure out how to respond.
"Wasn't it 'Dad' a second ago?" Captain Price repeated as he raised an eyebrow, looking at you with a mix of amusement and confusion.
You blush in embarrassment as you realize he wouldn't let you get off easily withyour slip-up. You look down at the ground.
"I'm sorry, sir," You quickly clear your throat, hoping to regain your composure. Still unable to break your gaze from the floor, you mutter, "It won't happen again."
Suddenly, the cookie appeared in your line of vision that was still situated at the ground. You heard your captain sigh and tutted, drawing your attention back to him.
The cookie! The cookie?
He held the cookie out to you, a small smile playing on his lips as he waited for you to accept it. You were initially taken aback, feeling a surge of warmth and gratitude toward your captain.
"Didn't ask for an apology, kid," He said with a playful frown, seemingly amused by the situation. He took your hand and placed the cookie on it, his gaze locking onto yours. "Was just surprised is all, hm?"
"Still," You cleared you throat as straightened your posture and looked up at him, albeit still feeling the sting of embarrassment. "It's my bad."
"Mhm," He hummed softly and raised his hand up to your head. He gently pats your head affectionately, yet his hand ruffled your hair, leaving it disheveled. "Whatever floats your boat, kid."
The soft pat on your head sends shivers down your spine, and you give him a grateful smile.
"Thanks, Cap', again." You beemed up with a smile, raising the cookie to his vision.
He gives a small nod before turning to leave, leaving you with a sense of warmth and contentment that stays with you long after he's gone. You watch as he offered a small wave goodbye and you respond the same, feeling a sense of gratitude for his kindnesses and understanding.
You were about to take a bite out of the delicious cookie he had given you. But just as you were about to revel in the sweet taste, you heard his voice once more calling out to you and startling you.
Turning around, you saw him standing there infront of the doorway, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he continued to speak.
"Though," he began, his voice low but full of laughter spilling through, "The cake's delicious, kid. Would have it again, 10 out of 10," he finished with a wink, and you couldn't help but gape at his leaving form.
What.
"Motherfuc-"
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navi / masterlist
486 notes · View notes
tightjeansjavi · 4 months
Text
The Menu | Part 5
“my body is a cage”
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A/N: I wrote this in a matter of hours yesterday..and also decided to say fuck the canon timeline so <3
~word count: 4.6k~
Pairing | dark!joel miller x f!reader
Summary: Joel promises that he can make your pain go away. He’s a man that never goes back on his word.
Warnings: trauma responses from SA (not by Joel) mildly descriptive flashback to SA, degrading language, hurt, comfort, dark!joel, protective!joel, he’s kinda shit at communicating, but he’s trying his best for you, softish!joel, talk of the past, angst, sprinkle of fluff, intense emotional feelings, you and Joel let your guard down around one another, age gap, (Joel is in his 40’s and reader is in her late 20’s. I played around with the canon timeline a bit) reader has no physical descriptions, +18 minors dni!
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A languid roll of condensation drips down the base of Joel’s glass that has long since been abandoned the second you fell to your knees in an unceremonious fashion between his parted thighs.
Acceptance already began to make its home again in your heart when you watched Joel slowly shake his head. It hurt, like all rejections do, but it stung a little deeper than you were willing to admit.
Joel Miller didn’t want you anymore. He’d forget about you when the dust would inevitably settle. He’d find someone else to bury his troubles into. It wouldn’t be you, and maybe that was for the better. Maybe the presence of Joel in your life was not a good thing.
It still hurts. No amount of whiskey-melded poker face could mask that.
The weight of his actions seemed to strike their mark along him as well. Another drop of moisture slid down the glass, pooling along the worn down coffee table. He blinked once, twice, swallowing the prominent lump growing in his throat. His pupils had blown wide like two shiny 8-balls. Fuck.
The blooming awkwardness reared its ugly head when a silent tear traveled down your cheekbone. Once the first one escaped, the flood gates opened.
His gut twisted and churned painfully like a stranded ship being tousled by an onslaught of unforgiving swells. He couldn’t tear his sights from your doe-eyed teary gaze. His own tears threatened to spill when you flinched from his right hand moving upwards towards your face.
His fingers quivered when they finally settled against your clammy skin. Joel Miller would never believe himself to be a gentle-touched man. Maybe a long time ago when the sun warmed his skin, and joyous laughter echoed in both ears, and his eyes were bright and full of life, but now? His kindness was reserved, locked away, buried six feet under the cold clutches of earth. The key was thrown away, forgotten and rusted away along with what remained of his tattered and bruised heart.
Here in his hold, your skin warm, soft beneath the rough calluses of his palm, he felt. He felt not just anger, but guilt, sadness, a newfound ache that was tangled up in that stupid four letter word that he would be damned to ever utter its existence again.
“Hey, it’s okay, Angel. It’s okay. You’re safe.” He reassured you, big brown eyes never leaving yours.
You had never heard this brutish man speak to you in such a sincerely soft way. There wasn’t an ilk of pity or condescendence in his tone. Nothing but concern, fear, a desperate need to ascend comfort in his words.
He was so..confusing.
“I’m sorry.” You whispered, choking back a sob that died in your throat. “You—you should go, Joel.” You went to brush away his hand to crawl as far away from him as physically possible, but he wasn’t budging. He’d never leave.
“Hey, look at me.” He commanded softly. His other hand found purchase around the left side of your face. His movements were gentle and slow. He wanted to ground you, to keep your soul from being plucked up like a marionette. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”
You pushed and pulled against him, grinding your teeth together when he still sat unmoving. It was as if you were the unsuspecting bird, and he was the wet cement that would soon harden and fossilize around your body.
“Why?” You questioned. Your sadness had ebbed away and was quickly replaced with simmering frustration. “You don’t want me anymore, Joel. There’s nothing left for you here, so just—fuckin’ leave.” You snapped.
“Angel, I never said I didn’t want you anymore. Please stop fightin’ me. Please.” He pleaded, the rough pads of his thumbs swiped under your eyes, collecting the tears that pooled there while they awaited their time to fall.
“You didn’t need to say it, Joel. I could fuckin’ feel it.” You sniffled, falling back on your haunches in defeat.
“No, sweet girl. You’re mistaken. I swear. I’m shit at this. This whole..communicating thing has never been my forte. I’m sorry. I’m so—sorry. But somethin’ about this ain’t feel right. I—I don’t want to assume, but somethin’ happened to you. I know you don’t want to tell me, but maybe—”
“But maybe what, Joel? Why do you even care? Why all of a sudden—when you said yourself that I’m nothin’ but your whore on stilts. A tight hole to fuck whenever you please. What, did you have a sudden change of heart? Gonna manipulate me into believing that you actually care about me? Fuck you—”
“I swear on my daughters fuckin’ grave that I care about you. I am not manipulating you into believing anythin’ that is leaving my mouth, Angel. I am tellin’ you the truth. You mean somethin’ to me. Puttin’ it into words ain’t easy for a man like me, but you’re hurtin.’ You’re in pain, and I swear to god if some sick fuck put their hands on you, I’ll make sure they never see the light of day again.” He confessed fiercely.
He might as well get down on one knee and sign his life off to you in red ink. To ensure his promise to keep you safe and protected like he was some knight in shining armor.
Benji yanked you up by the scruff of your neck like you were some stray cat, or a tattered ragdoll. You felt like a bug at his mercy, awaiting a painful death of being squashed beneath a leather boot, split into a million pieces. You could hear his friends snickering in the back while they were still fisting their cocks like the disgusting hounds that they were. “Jus’ remember your place in this world, Angel. No matter what anyone tells you, you will be nothin’ but a come-stained, filthy whore. And when you return to him, like I know you will, he’ll toss you away like yesterday's trash. All men are the same, sweetheart. They don’t like it when another dog has been in their bitch.” He spat cruelly, a glob of saliva landing along your cheek.
“No, Joel. I’m nothin’ but a come-stained whore, and you’ll toss me away like yesterday’s trash.” You whispered solemnly, chin tilting downwards in disgust with what was instilled in you to be your true identity. Crestfallen tears were wept. Tears that trailed down your cheeks and rolled down the expanse of his bare wrists and forearms. Each teardrop that landed upon his skin sent his anger flaring upwards the way that smoke rises from a blazing fire.
“Who did this to you, Angel? Tell me his name, and I swear to you that I will make this all go away. Tell me the name of the man who laid his fuckin’ hands on you. Tell me, please. Please, Angel. I want to help you.” He was on the cusp of begging, hating the fear that began to douse the flames. The fear that maybe it was too late, and the damage was done already.
Your eyes slowly meet his, rimmed in red, skin puffy and dry. From just the look alone that you gave him, he knew who had done this to you. He knew the second your lips parted, and uttered the name that sent the beast inside of him awakening once more.
“Benji.”
The dam broke the moment his name left your lips; you crumbled. An echo of gut wrenching, broken sobs tumbled out of you as Joel scrambled to keep you together. He was on the floor with you now, cradling you in his arms while struggling to gather up the broken pieces figuratively scattered around him. It was as if you were loose grains of sand, and no matter how many times he scooped you up into his gentle palms, you kept slipping through the cracks.
You found yourself crawling into his lap, straddling his hips with your arms latched around his neck. You anchored yourself around him while his shirt soaked up your heavy flowing tears like a sponge. His arms were around you like a cage, comforting you the only way he knew how; through touch. One large hand came to cradle the back of your head, while the other rested along the curve of your spine, drawing soothing circles against your skin with the rough pads of his fingertips.
It’s okay, Angel. I have you. You’re safe. I promise.
and through your tears, and your aching, you wanted to believe him. But believing and trusting someone never came easy. Especially in this world. To throw all your eggs into one basket would be considered foolish. Since the night of the outbreak you had convinced yourself that you needed no one. Not a shoulder to cry on, or a friend to confide in. You hadn’t sought for human connection till you crossed paths with Joel Miller. And now you felt guilty for webbing him into your life. For making this mountain of a man feel.
Was it intentional? No. But sometimes we lose all sense of control and ultimately find ourselves giving into that thing that we fear the most. In all retrospect, you had tried to push Joel away from you, but he was a stubborn man. The most stubborn person you had ever met. A whole lotta bark and bite. Fearless until he gave into feeling. Unmoving until he began to feel for you. The girl that was just looking for a vice to fill a void, and instead found a man that would quite literally kill for you. He’d lasso the fucking moon and bring it down to you if you asked. He’d be your friend, your shoulder to cry on, your comfort in the odd hours of the night when the nightmares would creep in.
He’d be your laughter, your anger, your sadness. He’d be whatever the fuck you wanted him to be. That was the thing about men like Joel Miller, they were fiercely loyal to the ones they loved to the point where maybe he was the foolish one. Maybe he had bitten off more than he could chew. And if that were the case, he’d lick his wounds, convince himself that he was okay, and move on until his body would ultimately give way to the grief he carried day in, and day out.
“Will you let me take care of you, Angel?” He asked suddenly, so softly you could barely hear him through the thick of your messy tears.
“If you wish it.” You sniffled, cheek pressed firmly against the damp fabric of his shirt where your tears had soaked through.
He rumbled a sigh, nostrils flaring while he tilted his chin down to take a peek at your current state. He’d never seen you look so tiny, frail, curling into yourself like a mouse shriveling from a house cat on the prowl. His latent caretaker instincts were kicking into full drive after the dust had been blown off of them and wafted through the stagnant air.
“C’mon, sweet girl.” He urged in a gentle tone, strong arms tightening their hold around you while his hands gently hoisted you up by your thighs. His knees creaked and groaned from carrying the weight of himself and you to a standing position. You clung to him still in a koala like fashion.
“Where are you taking me?” You asked unsurely.
“Takin’ you to the bathroom so we can wash the pain away.” He replied quietly.
His footsteps are soft, yet calculated while his hands stay secured around your thighs. He uses his shoulder to push open your flimsy bathroom door. You find yourself sitting along the toliet seat, back resting against the wall with your hands in your lap. You begin to pick at the skin around your nails absentmindedly. You flinch slightly when the sharp edge of your nail tears through dry cuticle skin surrounding your thumb. The sting feels nice, calming in a sense.
Your eyes stay focused on the wall even when the shadow of his silhouette looms over you, and his warm palm suddenly engulfs your own.
“Don’t do that.” He whispers, brows furrowed when he notices the bead of blood on the side of your thumb. “You have beautiful hands, Angel. Don’t go’n ruin ‘em.” He means every word.
“I’m sorry.” Is all you can really say.
He slips his fingers through your own and you can feel every ridge and rough callus through his skin. His thumb strokes the outside of your hand in a tender sweep.
You want to cry, but you don’t. Instead you lean your head back against the wall and close your eyes while the sounds of the water sloshing into the tub drowns out your thoughts.
With his freehand he constantly checks the temperature of the water to make sure it’s not too hot, and not too cold. The last thing he wants to do is shock your system. He glances up at your face for a moment before he focuses on his blurry reflection in the rippling water.
How can I make her pain go away?
It's not something that will ever go away. It becomes bearable, but with time. All you can do is be there for her the best way that you can. He reminds himself.
“Angel.”
Your eyes snap open at the sound of his voice ringing in your ears.
So it wasn’t all a dream.
“Uh..the water should be good now. Do you want some privacy? I don’t—need to be in here with you..I understand if you—” he’s stumbling over his words more than he intended to, but this is uncharted territory for him, and he’s unsure.
“No.” You finally speak, “I want you to stay.”
He breathes; relieved for a moment. “Okay, I’ll stay. Do you..want some help?” He’s referring to your clothes and if you require assistance in undressing.
“Please.”
He nods reassuringly before standing up to his full height from where he was kneeling alongside the tub. “Arms up.” He softly requests while he reaches for the hem of your shirt.
Your body works strictly on autopilot, boneless as you lift your arms above your head so it’s easier for him to pull your shirt up.
His wounded knuckles brush gently against your sides when he begins to lift the fabric from your body slowly. Gooseflesh begins to rise when you're exposed to the room temperature air. Your hands instinctively move to cover your modesty and he pretends to not notice the way you immediately fold in on yourself.
It hurts him to see you in such a state as this, but his feelings do not matter, he reminds himself. Yours are far more important than his own.
He waits for your consent to pop the button of your jeans followed by the zipper. His eyes stay locked on your own when he begins to ease the worn denim down your thighs. There’s two gaping holes in the fabric around your knees that weren’t there before. He begins to feel the bile rise before he forces it back down.
You're trembling by the time he reaches for the elastic waistband of your tattered panties and he finds himself freezing in place when your hands snatch his wrists frantically.
“I won’t take them off, okay?” He reassures you. “I promise.”he adds for good measure.
You trust him, and that scares you, but it’s enough for you to release his wrists from your death grip.
“Turn around, please.” You croak out, still struggling to find your voice.
He doesn’t protest, or say mean things, or make you feel ten times smaller than you already felt. He obliges your request silently.
You wait until his back is facing you before you pull your panties down over your thighs. You catch a glimpse of a maroon saturated stain that will be forever tattooed in the flimsy fabric. You want to sob, but instead you drop the material to your ankles and discard them with the rest of your tattered clothing.
He doesn’t turn around to look at you until you give him permission. By that point you were already carefully lowering yourself into the tub. He finds you with your knees protectively tucked up to your chest, folded in on yourself. A dull, sullen look glossed over in your once vibrant irises. Your eyes cast down to your reflection before staring off into nothingness once more.
“Can..I get you anything? Are you hungry? I can whip you up some soup or somethin?’” He asks while lowering himself to sit alongside the tub. He doesn’t care that his lower back pinches a bit, or his knees creak, he just wants to be there for you in any way that he can.
“Just a cigarette would be nice.” You mumble out a reply. Your eyes meet his softened gaze for a moment with your chin resting along the dip of your knee. “He took the ones that you rolled me, along with the pills, and the pistol you lent me. I’m sorry, Joel. I—I’ll pay you back.”
“Hey, you don’t have to pay me back for any of that, okay? I don’t give a fuck about the pills, and I lent you the gun and cigarettes, Angel. Don’t worry about that, okay?” He reached into his back pocket, pulling out his own stash and a lighter. He leaned forward, placing the cigarette between your lips before he ignited the unlit end with the lighter.
You took a long drag, letting the smoke attack your lungs, and the nicotine ease your brain into relaxation, and calm your rising anxiety.
“Okay.” You finally speak, willing yourself to scoot closer towards the edge of the tub to ash the cigarette over the side.
“Tell me something that..makes you happy.” He catches you off guard while you take another long drag. You blow the smoke off to the side, creating a hazy cloud that soon dissipates.
“Something..that makes me happy?” You question apprehensively.
“Yes. Jus’ anythin’ that you can think of that makes you happy, Angel.” He rasps softly as he awaits your response.
“The rain. But specifically when it’s storming. I love that earthy smell after a storm. When everything smells fresh, clean, alive. I like the dreary days too. Where it rains from morning through the night. I like the sound it makes when raindrops land on the pavement, or roofs. I know it might sound silly, but when I was a kid I used to sit out on the driveway with some neighborhood friends and watch the storms roll in. Always found myself getting excited when the clouds grew darker and the wind picked up..that first flash of lighting, and rumbling thunder?” You trailed off, unsure if you said too much, or too little for his liking.
“Oh, yeah, I have to agree. Who doesn’t love a good heavy storm? Perfect sleepin’ weather too. Back in Texas we’d get some pretty wild storms out there. Flash floods and all that jazz. Didn’t matter to me cus’ I’d always sleep with the window open. My younger brother, Tommy, was afraid of thunderstorms, up until the point of me tellin’ him that we were always safe inside. Think he got over the fear by the time he was ten.” Joel found himself reminiscing on his childhood, and a simpler time that felt like a ghost to him now.
“I didn’t know you had a brother.” You ashed the cigarette over the side of the tub once more before offering it to him. He declined with a slight shake of his head. You need it more than I do.
“Yeah, he’s..well, I don’t know where he’s at. Left with the fireflies a few years back. Thought he could be a hero and save the world. I send him radio messages every now and then jus’ to check up on him.” He sighed softly. His arm came to rest along the side of the tub, palm resting upwards in case you needed to, or wanted to hold his hand.
“Do you miss him?” You asked, shifting closer to him.
You could visibly see him tense from your question. Tommy was a sore spot for him, a festering wound at times. He felt resentful after everything he had done for his younger brother. The sacrifices he made to keep both of them safe from harm. But deep down he knew he couldn’t stay mad at his kin forever, but he wasn’t ready to let that resentment go just yet. He still needed to heal.
“I miss him more than I’m willin’ to admit, Angel. Not sure if he really misses me all that much.” He shrugged indignantly. “What about you, do..you have any siblings?”
He realized then that he didn’t know much about you at all. He knew your name, and your body, but he wanted to know more about what you were like before the world went to shit.
“Nope. Only child. Mom and Dad tried for another, but some things just aren’t meant to be.” It was your turn to shrug now. He caught you eyeing his outstretched palm resting along the chipped porcelain. If he had the ability to read minds, he certainly was reading yours now.
“And..your parents?” He asked, assuming the inevitable answer.
“Both dead. Car crash a couple years before outbreak. I was too young to comprehend any of it. Grandparents took me in luckily. We pretty much lived in desolation out in the middle of nowhere after that. Not much civilization out in the sticks.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” His tone is soft, baritone deep and soothing. And truth be told, you’re still confused. You can’t help it especially when you know this is the same man that just hours ago was trying to bust down your door.
Joel Miller made your head spin.
“It’s alright, Joel. No need for you to be sorry. Life sucks sometimes. It’s just something I’ve come to accept.”
He nods affirmatively. Life does suck sometimes, ain’t that the truth.
“So, where exactly are you from then? South? Midwest? West?” He couldn’t help his curiosity to know more. He didn’t expect you to be an open book by any means, but he’d take anything you’d give him.
“Montana. Grandparents owned a horse ranch out there. Real peaceful, open country, fresh air.”
“Ah, so a real country girl then? Well, guess you and I are closer than we originally thought, huh? How’d you end up all the way in Boston?” He stretched his arm out slightly when it had grown stiff from the position it had been in.
“If you consider Texas and Montana to be close, then sure, cowboy.” There was a glimmer of sass in your tone. Just enough to cause his ears to perk up. “Honestly, after the outbreak, things just turned into one big blur for me. It’s like I had to grow up overnight. Grandpa taught me how to use a shotgun, killed my first infected shortly after that. Grandma was the first to fall, and Grandpa followed a year later. I stayed in the ranch for as long as I could, fendin’ for myself. Was only a matter of time before raiders became a problem, and I packed a bag, took a horse, and headed east.”
Joel was having a hard time comprehending just how young you truly were when the world as you knew it turned to shit. You were just a kid, a little girl fending for yourself. When he realized you were just about Sarah’s age, he didn’t know how to process that newfound information either.
“You were..just a kid when this all happened.” He nearly whispered in disbelief at the thought of a younger version of yourself, strapped with her grandpa's shotgun, and nothing but open country to trek through.
“I was.” You confirmed. “I’m sure this is just my brain blocking all the bad shit out, but I don’t remember much of what happened after I left the ranch. I guess it’s a miracle that I managed to survive this long. Guess my luck hasn’t run out entirely, huh?”
“No, it certainly hasn’t, Angel. You’ve managed to defy practically all the odds that were placed against you.”
You fall silent again, casting another look down at your reflection while the cigarette perched between middle and forefinger dies out. “What’s your favorite color, Joel?”
“Oh, so now we’re goin’ elementary?” He teases lightly in hopes to brighten your spirits just a tad. He’d kill a thousand men just to see you smile again. “I think I have to go with a shade of blue.” He decides.
“Ha. Ha. You’re hilarious, cowboy. You’re the one who started with the personal questions. I think knowing your favorite color is definitely considered a personal question.” You feel your lips twitch, almost as if they are trying to curve up into a smile, but it doesn’t quite happen. “And blue..like the sky?”
“Nah.” He shakes his head, “blue like the ocean. But y’know..like all the shades. What about you, Angel? What’s your favorite color?”
“Purple.” “But not just any shade of purple. The kind that you can see in sunsets. It’s almost got like a pinkish hue to it? Or the purple in lavender fields. We had loads of it growing at the ranch.”
“Mm.” He hums thoughtfully, “Sunsets sure are pretty.” He’s far more relaxed now with his legs outstretched in front of him, and his chin resting along his bare bicep as he looks at you.
He asks you more questions, finding out that your favorite movies were arguably LOTR (unfortunately the third, and highly anticipated film never made it to the theaters; damn you cordyceps) and The Last Unicorn. He learned that your favorite drink of choice, before the outbreak, was either a virgin pina colada (because it tasted like the beach) or the classic kiddy cocktail; a childhood delicacy.
You learned that he and his younger brother Tommy, worked as contractors in Austin Texas, and that Joel used to be married..and he had a single daughter that he raised practically on his own. Her name was Sarah, and she died the night of the outbreak; Joel’s birthday. You also now know that his favorite movie was Curtis and Viper 2.
And through the midst of your back and forth domestic conversing, you find yourselves holding hands again. You’re not sure if he initiated it, or vice versa, but neither of you let go.
There was an unasked question that circled heavy in the air, like two vultures waiting to dive in for the kill. He could sense just as much as you could. Addressing the elephant in the room was not going to be easy, but you were beginning to realize that Joel wasn’t going anywhere. In fact, you were shocked to find that he hadn’t climbed into that damn tub with you.
“Joel?” You ask suddenly, skin beginning to prune from being in the water for too long.
“Yes, Angel?” He’s hopeful, but realistic given the circumstances.
“Did you..mean what you said earlier? About..making this all go away?”
“Yes.” He didn’t even hesitate to answer. He was not the kind of man to go back on his word. “I will make sure that he pays for what he did to you, Angel. He’ll suffer, and I’ll make him wish he was never born.” Oh, he’d make him pay alright.
“Good. I want you to kill him, Joel. And I want to be there to see you do it. I want to be right there when he takes his last pathetic breath—” you don’t even realize how hard you're squeezing his hand in your grasp that his knuckles are beginning to turn white from the pressure.
“Of course I’ll kill him for you, Angel.” That wasn't even a request in his mind. Benji would die at the hands of Joel, and you would get to watch.
and then..you told him everything.
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The Moon will Sing
[SAGAU x Mexican! Creator-Reader]
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A/n: I love SAGAU but realistically if I was stuck there I would be so sad I can't eat my culture foods ngl. Also y/n is implied first gen. Sorry lol. Also heavy leaning on y/n x Zhongli. Also title is from the song from The Crane Wives.
Also sorry if this sucks, it's kinda rushed and Idk what to do.
TW// obsessive-ish behavior
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You were transported to Teyvat after staying up all night playing Genshin before eventually passing out Infront of your computer.
When you open your eyes, you weren't in the comfort of your room but instead on gold altar.
People you recognized Infront of you as you sat up in shock. You hand hurting slightly as you looked down at it.
Blood.
In matter of fact, the blood was gold.
You watched as the wound healed itself on its own but your thoughts get interrupted as someone speaks up.
"My Grace, we are honored to have you here. The imposter has been dealt with, we pledge our devote loyalty to you."
You straight up passed out after this revelation.
After that whole fiasco, and you woke up to a bunch of crying acolytes.
Turns out, you were asleep for DAYS.
But you eventually grew accustomed to everything, honestly it wasn't as bad you thought it would be. Besides the weird obsessions and yandere like tendencies But there's one thing you missed dearly.
Home.
You were home sick and even the acolytes can see that. You didn't smile, you look off into the distance.
You miss the parties, music, going to swap meet and family members. Even the novellas your mother watched and eating her cooking.
Hell, you missed the internet.
It was just boring.
Then you got an idea, why not share them with your acolytes?! You get to explain your culture and maybe try to recreate dishes your mom made with ingredients here!
You immediately stood up from your throne excited. You immediately ran out of the temple, with the archons following you panicked.
"Your grace wait!" Zhongli yelled out chasing behind you. " You can't just leave abruptly like this! Please take me with you. "
You stood there, looking at a map you summoned looking at the places. "Sure! Let's go!" You grabbed around his waist and flew to places you needed to go.
He was practically beating his heart against his chest. The Creator was holding him! His ears were burning red in embarrassment.
You literally searched high and low, for ingredients alongside Zhongli. You either found substitutes or you quite literally had to create the ingredients. But once you had everything, you went straight to the kitchen.
The Archons were begging you, that they can someone else do it.
But you declined them, deciding to do it yourself.
You think the easiest recipe to do would be caldo de res. It's the one you seen your mother do countless times. And with your powers it should quicken the pace.... probably
Some of your acolytes were watching you, making sure your safe and do any task you asked.
Venti stood by the door way, along side zhongli and Xiao. Making sure your grace was fine.
At this point your at probably your third attempt at making this but you were really determined to get it right or at least
You took a spoonful and blew on it, taking a sip. And God it tasted like home, you place the utensil down and started to cry.
Venti was first to noticed, and thought you were upset. " Your grace don't cry! We can have some one else do it for you if your tired! "
You shook your head, wiping your tears smile. " I'm not sad, in fact I'm happy. Really happy. Would you like to try? It's a soup my mother always made."
Venti was so honored that the creator would even let him try, let alone a recipe the creators mother made!
Zhongli and Xiao whined, they wanted to try it too!
"Don't worry, you'll try it too!" You smiled, as you got a small spoonful.
Venti blushed, he's truly being rewarded, to be fed by the creator itself. He knows Xiao and Zhongli are practically seething in jealousy over this.
You were oblivious to it, feeding Venti small spoonfuls laughing. " Is it good?" You asked practically shaking in excitement.
He nodded happily, unknowingly teasing the other two in the room.
You made the jealousy even worse when you grabbed a handkerchief and clean up ventis face. Getting to be touched and so close to the creator smelling your perfume/cologne.
The other two pushed Venti aside, practically begging to be fed too.
You stood their dumbfounded but reluctantly agreed as well. Spoon feeding both of them, their faces light up.
They were so happy.
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After that, you started cooking other dishes, your acolytes and followers were always so excited to try it.
They saw how much you emotionally improved so they was no discussion over it.
You also started telling them old folktales and customs from your culture. Scholars started to appear and request to write it down and study it. You even taught them Spanish!
Thought they call it, [y/n's] language. And etc.
Sometimes when doing a task, followers can hear you quietly sing songs in your language.
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Your favorite thing, was reactions. The reactions your acolytes and followers had to your culture. They saw it as sacred, but you saw it as home.
You remembered talking to Zhongli because he remembers all of liyues stories and such.
"Zhongli, would you like to listen to a folktale?" You quietly asked, sitting on your throne. Him standing besides you.
" I'll be honored. " He says with a smile.
"There's different variations of this story depending of the region, but this is how I know it. Usually told to children to scare children into obedience. "
You cleared your voice, " long ago, a beautiful indigenous women fell in love with a man of higher social status. They lived happily together, having two children of their own. One day the man abandoned her, to either marry a more beautiful woman then her or a woman of his status. It depends either way, he leaves her. Her feeling threatened by this, consumed by rage and despair. She drown her children, meeting her own demised along side it. God curses her to wonder as a ghost searching for lost children so she can get into heaven."
Zhongli perks up at the story, " did you curse the woman yourself ?"
"ummm...yes?" You said unsurely.
" I see, a fitting punishment of her. " He says proudly.
" ahem, yes of course. Anyway she's called "la llorona" meaning The weeping woman..forever walking near bodies of water in search of her children so she may enter...umm.. heaven? "
Zhongli, tilts his head " what is heaven? " At this point your hands were sweating. " Ummm it's kinda like Celestia? But instead angels and stuff are there and it's like... Holy. You know? Anyway no more questions."
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Random Head Canons and such
If you have curly hair, best believe the acolytes would be fascinated by it. Especially if they give you baths and pamper you.
You would teach Venti songs you know for example: hijo de la Luna.
Sometimes you sing them if you feel like it. Mostly to little kids.
The Adults are definitely not jealous.
The Archons fight each other over being your dancing partner. This is because you needed someone to show how to dance bachata. And ever since they just fight over that spot.
Same for being food taster, they like eating your food and being the first one to try it is such a big honour. You don't know why? Either way they like being spoon fed your cooking.
They all listen to your stories and take your advice very very seriously. It's annoying lol
You taught them your cultures customs, for example birthday customs. You're absolutely not allowed to have your face smashed into cake. They absolutely refuse to do that to you.
Also if you like spicy food, they probably be amazed at your spice tolerance. You'll probably mess with them by eating a whole chile Infront of them.
There are times where you do get very home sick and won't leave your room. When you do, they try their absolute best to comfort you.
Also you have given some of your followers Spanish nicknames for funsies.
Sometimes you and your acolytes would speak Spanish with you. They think it's like the biggest honor to understand your language and speak it with you. But you just think it's nice. Plus you get to have secret convos with people you don't want to know what your saving.
That's all I can think of , off the top of my head lol.
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appocalipse · 11 months
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Hiiii angst fic idea!!! Sorry if they are weird you can totally ignore this <3
Miscommunication with steve, maybe he makes reader feel bad but he didn't want to and reader just goes quiet and he doesn't understand, but tries really hard to make everything better, with a happy ending maybe, if you want.
Or another idea is that Steve is with a very extroverted r and everybody think it's weird, so r feels kinda insecure but cute ol steve makes her feel better (i feel like this is more of hurt/comfort, but maybe you like the idea).
Ok, that all, byeeee!!!
thank you so much for your request ♥ you're welcome to send more!
The neon lights of the arcade flicker against your face, illuminating your features as you watch Steve play Centipede. You lean against the machine, your arms crossed, as you wait for him to finish the game. It's a Friday night, and you've been looking forward to this all week. It's your first date in a while; you want it to be perfect.
"You're up," Steve says, turning to you with a grin.
You smile back, feeling that familiar warmth inside your chest. "Watch and learn, baby," you tease, taking the joystick from him.
Steve watches as you play, offering tips and encouragement when you need it. You're having fun, but you can't shake the feeling that something's off. Steve seems distracted, distant almost, like he's trying too hard to seem like he's paying attention. He's not nearly as talkative as he usually is, and you find yourself carrying most of the conversation.
As you finish the game, Steve turns to you. "That was impressive," he says, but far from usual, his tone is flat.
You try to ignore the feeling of disappointment that creeps up in your chest, the sting of insecurity squeezing at your heart. "Thanks," you murmur, putting the joystick back in its place. "Do you want to… try something else?"
You kind of expected what happens next: Steve shakes his head.
"I hate to cut the night short, but I'm really feeling exhausted," he confesses, taking your hand and absently running his thumb over your palm. "Can I take you home?"
"Oh," you say, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice. "Yeah, sure."
As you walk out of the arcade, you can't help but feel a pang of sadness. This is far from how you envisioned the night going. You wanted it to be romantic, special, something to make up for lost time…yet you don't want to disregard Steve's feelings. It wouldn't be fair.
Once outside, Steve turns to you, his expression softening. "I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't mean to be distant tonight. It's just…I've got a lot on my mind."
You're pretty sure he can sense the way you feel sometimes. "What's going on?" you ask, relief and concern washing over you at the same time.
Steve hesitates, his eyes flickering away from yours. "It's nothing, really," he says, his voice strained. "Just some stuff with work, you know. It's been tough lately."
You nod slowly, trying to comprehend the weight of what he's saying. "I understand," you say softly. "I'm here for you, Steve. Always."
Steve's gaze meets yours again, and you see a flicker of something in his eyes. Regret, maybe, or guilt. "I know," he agrees. "I'm sorry. I just…I didn't want to burden you with my problems. You've got your own stuff going on."
You shake your head, feeling a little frustrated. "That's not the point," you say. "We're in this together, remember? That's what a relationship is about. Sharing the good and the bad."
Steve looks at you, and you see something shift in his expression. A softness, a vulnerability. "You're right," he says. "As always. I'll…I'll do better, I promise."
You smile, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. "I know you will," you say. "And…I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have assumed things without talking to you first."
Steve takes your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. "It's okay," he says. "We all make mistakes. What matters is that we learn from them."
"Oooh, you're so wise all of a sudden," you say, playfully poking his arm. "But enough serious talk for tonight. Let's get you home so you can rest."
You both start walking towards Steve's car, the cool night air brushing against your skin. As you get closer, you notice the way the streetlights cast a warm, golden glow over the pavement. You take in a deep breath, feeling a sense of calm settle over you.
Steve's hand slips into yours, and you feel a spark of electricity run through you. You turn to him, noticing the way his eyes crinkle adorably at the corners when he grins at you.
Steve's grin widens, and he nods in agreement. "Sounds good to me," he says. "But, you know, I suddenly don't feel so tired anymore."
You raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk on your lips. "Oh?" you prompt.
He leans in closer to you, his breath warm against your cheek. "Yeah," he says, his voice low and husky. "I was thinking maybe I could stay at your place tonight. You know, for some extra rest."
You feel your heart skip a beat at his words, and you can't help but smile. "Well, I don't know," you say, teasingly. "I don't want to be a bad influence."
Steve laughs, a sound that sends the best kind of shiver down your spine. "Too late for that," he says, his eyes shining with warmth. What more could you ask for?
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bluehourbucky · 1 year
Text
Surprise
rockstar!dad!bucky x f!momreader
summary: last show of Buckys tour where he gets a special surprise
part of the same universe as Love from afar but can be read as standalone
a/n: so I'm kinda soft for rockstar dad bucky you might see more of him in the future I already have 2 more fic ideas sushdbbd
main masterlist
bucky masterlist
-more rockstardad!bucky
hope you enjoy! if you have any questions or feedback my asks are open!
DO NOT COPY OR STEAL MY WORK
_________________________________________
Tonight was the last stop of tour, and Bucky was feeling all kinds of things. Nervous, sad that the tour was done, but also incredibly happy to finally get home to his pregnant wife and two boys.
"Good evening everybody!" Bucky yells into the mic and does a riff on his guitar.
"Tonight is the last show-" before he finishes he's cut off by screams of "noo" of their fans.
"I know, I know. This tour has been a real dream come true. I wanna thank everyone who's here tonight and everyone who saw our show in the last six months. And of course, to those who support us from afar."
Bucky stops talking and looks at the huge stadium screaming his name and almost tears up.
"Let's have fun tonight!"
Bucky starts singing the first song, and the crowd goes wild. He loves this so much the adrenaline the energy it makes him feel high.
It's getting close to the end of the show. Only the last song is left, and it's a surprise song for the last show. This song Bucky wrote for you when he was leaving for tour the first time after having a kid. Its not a song they usually play as it is a slow farewell song, but why not.
"Thank you for such an amazing show. You are such an incredible crowd. But can I ask for a little more of your time and energy?!"
The crowd yells out a yes. Bucky and other members of his band smile, him and Steve share a look that says "we made it".
They start singing, and the crowd starts singing the lyrics with them, some people start crying and the stadium is lit up with phone flashlights
When they finish the last song the crowd chants their name.
"Thank you!" Bucky bows lowly.
and then the crowd screams louder and Bucky turns around.
"I know the show is over. But I thought I could ask for one last song?"
Bucky is speechless when he hears your voice, and when he sees his 7 month pregnant wife on stage, he almost collapses. The crowds screaming dies out, and the only thing Bucky sees is you in a pretty purple dress standing a few feet away microphone in your hands.
"So? Just my favourite I'm sure no one would mind? Right Steve?"
Steve smiles at you softly, he knew you were coming and helped you pull this thing off without Bucky knowing.
"What's one more song?" Steve says and starts singing.
Bucky takes the microphone and starts singing to you. He slowly walks over, scared that you'll disappear any second. You wouldn't call this song particularly sweet and romantic since Bucky wrote it about your wild hookups in unconventional places when you were like 18. But still, it remains your favourite song.
By the end of the song, Bucky is close to sobbing he started crying at some point.
"My beautiful wife, everybody!" He says through tears. The crowd has been screaming since you came out on stage.
"Thank you! Sorry to keep you a bit longer I'm sure everybody is very tired. Get home safe." you say and leave the stage waving, but not before kissing Bucky softly and telling him you'll see him in a bit.
While you wait for the show to finish, you log into Buckys Instagram since you don't have your own. Already, there are thousands and thousands of posts about you coming on stage.
Bucky didn't publicly announce the pregnancy, and neither have you. This time, you somehow managed to hide it for so long since the attention was mostly pointed at the tour.
You're sure that by tomorrow, every tabloid will have your picture splattered everywhere but you couldn't care less. What Bucky doesn't know yet is that the boys are here with you and you can't wait to see his face.
"DADDY!" Theo screams and jumps into his fathers arms, and Bucky catches him.
Bucky holds onto his son like he's going to disappear any second.
"What are you doing here? How? When?" Bucky asks in between kisses that he's giving your son.
Leo crawls and hugs Bucky's legs, with Theo still in his arms, Bucky picks up his other son and starts kissing each of their cheeks in turns.
"We wanted to surprise you. I guess it worked, no?" you tease him a little and snap a picture of the sweet scene in front of you.
Somehow, Theo ends up clinging onto his dad's back, which gives Bucky enough space to pull you into a group hug.
"Ew you're sweaty and smell. Theo get down you'll get stinky too."
Bucky doesn't let either of you leave his embrace, and the menace he is, he snuggles Leo even closer to him. You smile into his neck, you missed him so much.
"Alright, I'll go shower, then we can go. Don't go anywhere."
"Daddy wait I'm still here!" Theo screams into Buckys ear trying to get down but Bucky is still holding him.
"Oh right, I guess you're not showering with me." Theo giggles happily and walks over to you.
"The other one too Buck." He rolls his eyes and let's his 3 year old down from his arms.
He doesn't take long, and the four of you are on your way to the hotel.
In the car, boys talk to their father, and Bucky listens very carefully, not to miss a single word.
When you get to the hotel suite, Bucky gets the boys ready for bed and reads them a bedtime story. They fall sleep almost instantly, Theo on his right shoulder and Leo on his left.
Bucky manages to wiggle out without waking them up and makes his way over to you.
"God I love you. You're incredible. How did you even do this we talked this morning and I-" you cut him off with a kiss.
"I love you too. And I can't belive that we've been married for so long and I still get to surprise you." Bucky smiles and put his hand on you belly, feeling the little movement.
"My pretty baby, I'm sorry daddy hasn't talked you I promise I'll make it up to you, I'm gonna be the only thing you hear for forever!" Bucky talks to the baby in your belly.
"I love you more than anything, Bucky I love our family and I missed you so fucking much." you start to tear up, holding onto Buckys hands. It hit you all at once that you're having another baby and that he wasn't there and that you can't believe you found a soulmate.
"Doll, you're my forever. I love you more than there are stars in the universe. I can not thank you enough for being there and supporting me and being the mother of my children. The last 6 months have both been the best and worst of my life. I want you to know that you and the boys were all I could think about. I can not wait to get home, our messy, lively home. Soon, I know we'll be getting zero sleep, and we'll be exhausted, but I will be doing it with you. That makes me extremely happy. You were my dream then, my dream now and my dream forever."
You sob into his chest, holding him tightly, as if he's going to disappear into thin air. The hug is a bit weird as your bump is in the way but it's the thing that you needed the most right now.
"If I could I would fuck you right now you look incredibly sexy." you say through tears and Buckys chest vibrate from the laugh.
"I'll make it up to you my love. I will have you in bed for a week straight, you'll be all mine. My pretty doll." He plants a sweet kiss on top of your head.
"Let's get you in bed. I'm sure you're tired." you only nod and let Bucky take care of you.
When you fall asleep, Bucky is wide awake looking at his beautiful family. He can't wait to get home and take care of you.
[THE END]
*extra*
<breaking news famous singer and guitarist Bucky Barnes is expecting a third child with his wife.>
<we can't get help but feel single when we see this couple! Bucky Barnes and his wife on stage last night! Buckys wife surprised him and requested her favorite song!!>
<after almost a year we see Bucky Barnes' wife and she is very much pregnant! we wish them the best!>
*comments*
omg such goals!
want someone to look at me the way bucky and his wife look at each other!
how does one looks so gorgeous while that pregnant she's literally glowing! Bucky is so lucky!
family goals
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