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#I don’t exactly remember but I think it’s no
lemonlover1110 · 2 days
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𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝
Toji Fushiguro
[Chapter 11] A Better Man
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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader
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“Shiu… To what do I owe this pleasure?” You open the door to your apartment to find your ex-husband’s old friend. You have no contact with the man, therefore you have no idea why he stands in front of you. He holds a pink gift bag, making you assume that he’s brought a gift for the baby, but why? Then you remember you have a very persistent ex-husband that’s very good friends with the man that stands before you. “What does Toji want? He can just call me, he has my number– For fuck’s sake, you have my number.”
“I’m just here to drop off a gift for my niece.” Shiu says, holding up the bag. He’s not here just for that, and you know it but you won’t drag out an interrogation, demanding an answer from him. Instead, you take the bag from his hand and begin to close the door in his face. He stops the door before it’s shut right in his face, “Not so fast.”
“So you’re not just dropping off a gift?” You tilt your head to the side, slowly blinking your eyes to play dumb. Shiu sighs, shaking his head. He doesn’t like to admit that he's here on behalf of Toji… Well, Toji did ask him to come but Shiu isn’t exactly trying to push the agenda that Toji urged him to.
“Can I come in or not?” Shiu asks, and you take a moment to think about it– Well, you pretend to take a moment to think about it, wasting a couple of precious seconds of his life. Instead of answering, you move to the side to allow him in. 
Shiu takes off his shoes when he steps into the apartment. He hadn’t been here since he helped you move in, and it’s nice to see how the place has been transformed into an apartment that screams your name. He almost laughs at the fact that everything looks babyproofed, even when it’s too early for it. He knows you don’t have that much time in your hands to do it all, so it’s clear what your priority is.
“What did Toji tell you to do?” You question when Shiu sits on your couch, putting the gift bag on your coffee table. Shiu is biting his tongue, not wanting to answer the question immediately. 
“Can’t I just come around to check up–” He begins, but you cut him off before he can finish his claim. You swear you’ll roll your eyes so far back into your head that you’ll be able to see your brain if he claims that he isn’t here on behalf of Toji.
“Be serious with me.” You respond, as Shiu’s hands go to his knees. He takes a deep breath before nodding his head. 
“He wants me to convince you to move in with him since he claims that’s the best course of action since you’re having a baby and all.” He tells you, making you scoff. Toji just doesn’t know when to drop something, you never realized how persistent he can be while you were married. Maybe because Toji didn’t even try. “I’m honestly here just to say I showed up.”
“Then why did you insist on coming in?” You reply, and Shiu sits in silence. How does he answer honestly and fast without prying. Shiu doesn’t want to build a case for Toji but at the same time, he does have a lot to say in support of him. He doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable either. “Just say it.”
“Toji’s a tough person to be with but he does love you.” Shiu says, and you click your tongue. You’ve heard the argument a million times, and you’re never convinced. Even if he does love you, you’re never getting back with him.
“Why do you bring this up?” You ask him. “I mean, I thought you weren’t going to try anything but here you are, telling me that Toji does love me.”
“I’m not trying to convince you of anything, he does love you and I’m just bringing it up.” Shiu argues, and you hold back on sighing. You keep your irritation to yourself, wanting to seem neutral about all of this.
“Okay, what’s the point of it?” You respond, wanting this conversation to be over. You shouldn’t have to explain to him that trying to be convinced that you should get back with your ex is a rather bothersome topic. 
“You two are expecting a daughter, if you actually want to get back with him don’t feel guilty.” He tells you, and you chuckle. Did he really just say that? You wonder if you would feel guilty if you got back together with him, but for what reason would you?
“I appreciate it, Shiu, but I have no plans on getting back with him. Do I really need to tell you how horrible it was to be married to him for you to stop helping him?” You try to sound nonchalant about it all, but the annoyance peeks through your voice. Shiu feels the need to disagree with you, even though he’s helping him in a way.
“I’m not helping him.”
“Then what are you doing?” You question, making the man suck his bottom lip between his teeth. He’s quiet. He doesn’t know how to answer because you’re right. He is helping Toji.
“I guess I am.” He answers. He lets out a sigh, standing up from the couch, beginning his walk to the front door since the reason for his visit has come to an end. “It’s just weird to see Toji so miserable… He’s trying really hard to get something he wants and his efforts are in vain.”
“Toji needs to learn that he can’t get everything he wants. I gave him many chances, and he took them for granted. I shouldn’t be expected to give him another chance simply because he realized he can’t have me anymore.” You argue, and Shiu can’t say anything back because you’re right. He doesn’t know the extent of your issues with Toji, therefore he shouldn’t say more.
He opens the front door and waves at you, and before he can say anything else to you, you say, “Please don’t come around if you’re just coming here for Toji, I don’t want to hear it.”
“Hope you like the gift.” Shiu says before walking out. You don’t hesitate before closing the door. You roll your eyes as you walk to the coffee table to get the bag.
You find the cutest hat inside of the bag, which nearly makes you squeal. You should text him and thank him, but you’ll hold off on it. You’re reasonably upset. You have enough to deal with Toji, you don’t need a third party getting involved simply because he’s Toji’s friend.
For a moment you thought that Shiu would remain neutral in all of this, just now do you realize just how foolish you were. Shiu is Toji’s friend, not yours.
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You smile like a schoolgirl when you get a delivery of flowers early in the morning. You’re excited for the lucky person that’s going to be met with flowers this morning. You ask who they’re for, and it takes you by surprise when he says your name. You sign for the flowers and are quick to look for a note.
You don’t really need to ask who they’re from, you know they’re from Toji. You find the note, one that makes you smile even brighter. You hate that it does, but finally getting the attention that you’ve been lacking from him makes you feel accomplished. He makes sure to compliment you in every way possible in such a small note. 
And just as you put the note away, you receive a message from him, asking you to lunch. You have to take a deep breath, putting the phone down for a minute to not seem too excited. You won’t let a beautiful bouquet of flowers change your mind. You try to seem as unenthusiastic as possible when you accept his invitation.
Toji picks you up at the office, but unlike other times, he doesn’t get out of his car to go to you. You can only assume it has something to do with your supervisor, but regardless, it’s none of your business. Toji is a single man, what he does with other women is no longer your matter, as much as it fills you with jealousy.
“There you are.” Toji gets out of the car to open the door for you. He makes sure to compliment you more, “You’re glowing today. You’re stunning.”
“Thank you, Toji.” You respond as he opens the car door. You get in, and he runs to the driver’s side to not keep you waiting. 
He begins the short drive to the restaurant he picked out for lunch, making light chatter. He’s asking you about you and how you’re feeling, and you give him short dry answers. He’s really trying, and you feel bad for doing this to him– But he deserves it.
You get to the restaurant, and the first thing you notice is how nice it is. He’s going all out on you, and it’s hard not to be happy. You dreamt of this for years, and you’re finally getting it when you have no need for it.
“Thank you for the flowers, Toji. They’re beautiful.” You bring up when you’re seated at a table. You don’t want lunch to be as awkward as the car ride.
“I’m glad you like them.” He responds, a shy smile on his lips. Who would’ve thought bouquets would be so expensive, he wouldn’t dare bring up the price though. “Also… Sorry about Shiu.”
“Let’s not talk about him please.” You tell him, and Toji nods in response. Of course you wouldn’t like to talk about that.
You’re looking at the menu, deciding what’s most appetizing at the moment. Something that won’t make you sick to your stomach. While you focus on that, Toji tries his best to think of something that’ll catch your attention. There’s only one thing that you can talk about for hours, and that’s the baby.
He clears his throat, “Anzu is a cute name.”
“Huh?” You look up at him, a sparkle in your eyes when you hear him. “I love the name! But I’m not sure, I have to keep looking at my options.”
“Of course, we have time. But I heard the name not too long ago and I love it.” Toji agrees. You begin to talk about baby names, and he finds himself getting excited. It’s hard not to get excited when you’re clearly over the moon because of this. “I hope we can come to a decision before she’s born.”
“Do you think she’ll be born before or after Megumi’s birthday?” You ask as your hand goes to your bump. Toji takes a moment to think about it.
“On his birthday.” Toji answers, and you hope that isn’t the case. You wish Toji can celebrate his son’s birthday without an issue. “How are you holding up though? Is everything okay?”
“Why do you mainly ask about me and not the baby? Aren’t you excited?” Your question comes from pure curiosity. You swore Toji was getting excited about her, but his questions are only to you, very rarely about the baby. Toji clears his throat before answering,
“I’m excited. I am. But you’re my main priority.” You raise your brows, a bit taken back by his response. “You were my wife first, and you always will be. My priorities will shift when she comes along, but she isn’t here yet.”
He’s choosing the right words, making you foolishly smile. He’s doing things right today, and if he keeps doing them like this, you might reconsider the decision that you’ve made.
But you remind yourself that you could’ve had this husband for years, but he chose not to be. Regardless you smile,
“You’re right. Thank you, Toji.”
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luveline · 13 hours
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Hellooo!! I saw your requests were open so I thought I'd ask if you could do singer/guitarist reader who fucked up on a gig (totally not self projecting here) and she like forgot some lyrics and stuff and she's just really upset and poly!marauders or really any of them comfort her
If not I totally get it and no worries!!
ty for requesting!! fem!reader, 1k
The best part about having more than one boyfriend is that one of them is bound to be good at something if the others aren’t. So while Remus can’t usually lift heavy things and Sirius doesn’t want to, James is more than happy to help your band pack up their things at the end of the night. 
It also helps that he’s a bit of a fanboy about it. He might jokingly ask you for your autograph from time to time, but he genuinely likes talking to your bandmates about the songs you play and the equipment. You can hear him talking someone’s ear off as the other boys in the band huff and puff as they lift the amps into the back of the van. 
“Why are you all silent?” Sirius asks, blowing a breath into your ear.
It’s not a very Sirius question. He sounds teasing, and his hand is playful as he pulls you into his side against the hood of his car, eyes on Remus where he chats across the car park to a friend. 
You look up into his face. “M’not.” 
“Ah, forgive me. I must be going deaf.” 
You press your cheek to his shoulder. “You are. Hope that helps.” 
“Of course it does.” 
He hooks your shirt with his pinky and slides his hand onto bare skin, scratching at your tummy and ribs with short nails. “You don’t want to tell me?” 
You turn further into him, hiding from his nagging questions, though you answer, because he’ll only find a way to drag it from you, and because you’d desperately like some reassurance. “I messed up really badly tonight. I ruined the set.” 
“You didn’t ruin the set. You did mess up, but really badly is subjective.” Sirius looks down at you on his shoulder, his breath warming your skin, strands of his hair falling onto your face softly, you’re that close. “Everyone messes up,” he murmurs, “doesn’t mean you ruined it.” 
Remus’ voice carries from a few feet away, “Where’s James?” 
“He’s still helping. Our poor angel can’t use her arms, it seems.” 
You and Remus wrinkle your noses simultaneously. “Her arms are fine,” he says. 
“James offered,” you butt in. 
“I’m joking,” Sirius says, touching his nose to your face, drawing a soft line before pulling away. He leans back casually. “It’s what people tend to do when their partners are upset.” 
You needle him with your arm. “Dick.” 
“You’re upset?” Remus asks. 
That’s exactly why Sirius is a dick. You step away from his arm in time for Remus to stop in front of you and look you over in concern. “What’s the matter?” Remus asks. 
“She’s embarrassed about forgetting the words earlier,” Sirius answers immediately. 
You glare at him. He lays back against the car with an arm behind his head, grinning. Makes sense for him to be sweet and kiss you like that just to chuck you into the deep end. 
“I didn’t want to say,” you mumble. 
Remus sidles up to you, and he’s taking the same stance as Sirius, a teasing lightness that colours his smile as he wraps his arms around you. These boys are always hugging you. 
“I don’t care if you want to say,” he murmurs, “you must tell me.” His hands clasp behind your back. “I won’t be left out.” 
His face works into your neck, breath warms and tickles your skin. 
He gives a scratch of kiss before he yanks away to meet your eyes. “Come on.” 
“Messed up. Everyone saw. Set ruined.” 
“Oh, oh,” he murmurs, “is that what you think happened?” 
“Don’t be a liar,” you say. 
“You forgot the words to one song. Everybody still had a good time, you looked amazing up there.” Remus leans far from you with his arms still braced behind your back, laughing as he says, “You were nearly perfect, and next time you’ll remember the embarrassment you’re feeling now and you won't forget the words.” 
He kisses your cheek.
“Can we not tell James?” you ask. 
“We have to.” 
“I know.” 
James is back sooner than you anticipated with a grin, the curls of his hair still perfect with pomade, not a drop of sweat on him. To your surprise, he doesn’t need to be told. “Oh, my girl,” he says proudly, jabbing your stomach with fake blows, “you did great! You only messed up one song!” 
Remus winces, but you think perhaps James’ way of looking at it is best of all. You could’ve messed up every song you performed tonight but it was just one.
“You’re amazing,” he furthers, taking your face into both hands. “Fuck, you look amazing when you’re up there with your guitar like that. I had a dream once we were in a band together. Remus got all handsy with you–”
“Are you sure you’ve got the right man?” Sirius asks, letting Remus pull him up from the hood.
“It might’ve been me,” James concedes. “I know it’s not like me to ask for something back, but I did all that heavy lifting for you shortcake, and I’m dying for an encore.” 
You’re not sure if he’s asking for something more than a show, your cheek turning hot in his hold. He encourages your face to his, his nose tapping yours up for a long, slow moving kiss, at odds with his flirtations but not his touches. His hands drag sluggishly down to your shoulders, the breath he takes on your lips like a happy sigh. 
“Get off of her, pervert,” Sirius says, jostling you both apart. “We’re in public.” 
“It’s just a kiss. I’m very proud of her, Sirius. She deserves a good kiss.” 
You fluster in his hands. 
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anniemika · 2 days
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No one else
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Eren Jaeger x Female Reader
Words: 6.9k
Warnings: explicit sex, cunnilingus, cursing
…..
"Mommy! Daddy’s here!” The sound of tiny footsteps echoed through the apartment, causing your maternal instincts to kick in. Worried that your daughter might trip on the stairs, you hurriedly made your way to the hallway. To your surprise, you found her standing by the door, her little backpack neatly packed, and her favorite plush toy clutched tightly under her arm.
"Sweetheart, what have I told you about running down the stairs?" you asked, trying to hide your smile at how adorable she looked.
"I know... sorry," she replied, giving you the most irresistible puppy eyes, swaying on her feet as if she knew exactly how to melt your heart. Just like someone else you knew.
"Mr. Poodles is coming with you, huh?" you said, kneeling down to help her tie her shoes properly.
"He can't wait to see Daddy, just like me," she grinned, hugging her stuffed animal. "Wish you were coming too."
For a moment, you froze. "This is your time with Daddy, baby. You've spent the whole day with me."
"But don't you want to have fun with me and Daddy too?" she asked, her innocent eyes searching for an answer. Right as she finished her question, the person of your discussion knocked on the apartment door.
"Daddy!" Your daughter practically pushed you out of the way as soon as you opened it, throwing herself into her father's arms.
"Wow! You're getting bigger every day!" he exclaimed, holding her tightly. "How's my baby girl?"
"I can't wait to go to the ice rink!" she squealed with excitement.
"Oh, me too, baby. Do you have your skates ready?"
"Umm, I think they're upstairs."
"Then go fetch 'em!" releasing her from his embrace, you both watched as she sprinted towards the stairs.
“Remember what I said!” you said after her, but she was too eager to hear your reminder.
You turned your attention back to her father, who was still smiling goofily, his eyes fixed on the direction your daughter had gone.
"She's been talking about this all day," you said to him, your lips curving into a smile.
Eren turned to face you, his gaze lingering a bit too long on your features before he spoke. "Yeah, she's been wanting to go for some time now."
"Just keep an eye on her, please. You know how hyperactive she can get, just like-"
"Me?" Eren tried to hide his smile, but it was evident, causing you to roll your eyes.
"Yes, just like you," you replied, a hint of affection in your voice.
You stare at each other for a few moments, before Eren grabs his backpack and begins to rummage through it. “I, uh.. got you something.”
You adjoin your eyebrows in confusion, but then he clarifies. “For your birthday.”
“Eren, you shouldn’t ha-“
“I wanted to.” He declares with a tone that suggests there’s no point in fighting him about it. After he gets a tiny present box out of his backpack, he moves closer, handing it to you.
"Thanks." You smile timidly, trying to escape his gaze. After nervously opening the present, your eyes grow wide when you see it. “Oh my god, Eren..”
You put your hand against your mouth in awe of the golden necklace positioned in the little box. It’s a lock necklace in the shape of a heart, with your daughter’s picture right at the center of it.
“Eren, this is... it’s beautiful.” Your eyes are still large as you inspect the jewelry, “thank you, thank you so much.”
“I’m glad you like it.” Eren casts a warm smile your way. You exchange glances with him, something you can’t quite decipher shining in his jewel eyes. “I was thinking-“
“I’m ready!” Your little bundle of joy appears in front of you, showcasing her pink glittery skates in her hand.
“Yeah?” Eren kneels next to her, giving a kiss on her puffy cheek. He looks at her, then at you, and then leans closer to your daughter’s ear, “Say, sweetheart.. don’t you think mommy should come with us, too?”
She doesn’t even waste a second, “Yes! Mommy, please come with us!”
You shake your head, “I can’t, sweetheart, I have work to do.”
“But it’s Saturday! Saturday is for fun!” Your daughter purses her upper lip, giving you the cutest little pout you’ve ever seen.
“She does have a point.” Eren nods his head. “Come on. I’ll be making pasta later.” He tilts his head the same way he does every time he tries to persuade you about something. And you hate that you’re debating it. It’s been four months since the last time you allowed yourself to spend time with Eren, and it was the same time you decided that it’d be best to co-parent instead of trying to fix your complicated relationship. He’d agreed to it, although it took him some time to understand what that actually meant. No more touching, kissing, spending nights together. It was hard for him, but with time, it seemed like he accepted it. Your kid was the most important thing for the both of you.
But even so, you could feel that there was still something. He was the father of your kid, and it didn’t help how amazing he was with her. Every time you saw them together, your heart would skip a beat. You couldn’t have asked for a better dad for your little girl. He did everything for her, helped her with school, taught her how to ride a bike, spent an enormous amount of time just playing with her and paying her attention. You were so grateful for that.
And you knew he still had a thing for you. He hadn’t gotten a new girlfriend even though women ogled him left and right, and when he would come to pick your kid up, he’d always talk to you, not being so smooth in trying to find out if you were dating someone or not.
Eren can see you’re still debating it, so he raises his arm in the air, “Everyone who wants mama to come, raise your hand.”
Your daughter follows suit, one tiny hand in the air, the other one holding onto Mr. Poodles’s hand. And you want to cry because this is the cutest image in the entire world.
“See, three against one.” Eren smirks your way, and of course, your cheeky daughter mimics it. That’s when you know, you’ve lost.
“Fine.” They both erupt into cheers, giving each other high fives. “Only for a little while, though.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
…..
The ice rink wasn’t as full as you’d expected for a Saturday, which was a welcome surprise. You couldn’t even remember the last time you went, but it was probably with Eren. He was the one that taught you, and then taught your little girl as well. It always amazed you how even though he was pretty impatient as a person, he was always so patient when it came to her... and to you, too. You really liked that about him.
You watched your daughter grab onto her father’s hand as they slid their skates across the rink, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart get full.
“Mommy! Come on!” She shouts to you, waving her little hand as Eren turns to look at you, a soft smile gracing his lips.
And if you really think about it, this is all you’ve ever wanted.
…..
“I should go.” You say as you gather your skates in one hand, watching as Eren helps your daughter undo hers. You’d been skating for the past two hours, and it was beginning to get cold, so after having spent the best time laughing and doing circles around the rink, with your bundle of joy holding you and Eren by your hands, you’d decided to call it a day.
“Don’t,” Eren basically jumps from the ground, his reaction surprising all three of you. Trying not to cringe from his sudden actions, he moves a bit closer, until you can faintly smell his cologne. “Please stay.”
You’d be lying if you said you expected the vulnerable tone those words came out with. He locked his gaze with yours, the pleading look in his eyes striking something deep inside your chest.
You still don’t say anything, so Eren tries again, “We’ll drive you afterwards. Right, sweetheart?” He turns to his daughter, who’s already giving you her irresistibly green puppy eyes.
“Please, mama. Mr. Poodles is gonna be sad if you leave.” She’s bringing the plush toy to her chest, her pointy chin resting on the animal’s head. They’re both really working you today.
You move your stare back to Eren’s, who looks like a little boy waiting for his parents to allow him something he really wants. You ignore the nestled feeling inside your chest, the one that seems to know why he’s acting this way. Finally, you sigh, tilting your head to catch your daughter’s expression again, “Well, I guess I can’t let Mr. Poodles be sad, now can I?”
…..
You hadn’t been to Eren’s new place ever since he left your shared apartment. You knew where it was because you’d often pick your daughter up from there, but you never felt comfortable enough to go in. Deep inside, you knew why you never wanted to. Not that you’d admit it to yourself or anyone else, but truth was, you were scared. Scared of accidentally bumping into a hook up, even though you knew he’d never allow that while your kid was there. But still, you were always on edge. You were afraid of him living the bachelor life now that you officially weren’t together, because as much as you wanted him to be happy, seeing your daughter’s father with another woman was something you weren’t sure you were ever going to be ready for.
But now, as you make your first step inside, you’re instantly washed with a sense of relief. The place isn’t big nor small, there’s just the right amount of space for a single dad whose kid comes over a couple of times a week. It’s tidy, there is no cereal on the table or alcohol bottles scattered around the shelves. There are a few plants positioned next to the window, their leaves as green as their owner’s eyes. You can even see the little cherry tomato tree you gave him as a gift after your third date—you’d made cherry tomato pasta that he absolutely loved, begging you for the recipe afterwards. Even though it was pretty simple, his reaction made you so happy, you gifted him the tree the next time you guys saw each other. You’d told him that whenever he wanted, you could make it for him with homemade tomatoes.
“Mommy, look what daddy and I drew!” Your daughter breaks your train of memories when she sprints towards the coffee table in the living room, grabbing what you suspect is the drawing, “Look! It’s us!”
She proudly presents the painting to you, smiling from ear to ear. You crouch down next to her, examining what you presume is all three of you holding each other by the hand, with wide smiles drawn on your faces. You can’t help but grin.
“Oh wow, you’re quite the artist, aren’t you?”
“Daddy helped!” She goes to grab her father by the hand, and you exchange glances with his handsome face, emerald eyes shooting arrows right through your heart.
“I bet he did.” You look down at the picture again, memorizing every little detail. How your hair is in your usual hairstyle, how Eren’s shirt is in his favorite green, how your daughter has a huge grin on her face, the same one she has on right now in front of you. And even when just looking at this drawing is enough to fill your heart with joy, you know that it’s not really similar to your real life. Because you and Eren.. you’re separated. You don’t take your kid for walks in the park together. You don’t go to the movies as a family. You don’t fall asleep in his arms after you’ve read your kid a bedtime story. The only time in the near past that you felt this way was today.. at the ice rink. It amazed you how life had the unimaginable gift of making you forget all the bad with just a little bit of good.
Eren notices the sudden sullen look on your face, so he quickly changes the subject, “All right girls, go sit yourselves down. I’m going to start dinner.”
…..
The sweet aroma of sizzling garlic fills the air of the kitchen. You’re seated opposite your little girl, who is now drawing a picture of a cat she’d seen outside the ice rink. It was her favourite animal, something she doesn’t keep away from you or Eren, giving not so subtle hints of what she would describe as the perfect birthday present.
“It smells really good.”
You say, trying to keep the conversation light and neutral. You're aware of the tension that underlies these simple domestic moments, but you're also conscious of the need to maintain a sense of normalcy for your daughter's sake.
Eren glances over his shoulder, offering you a small, appreciative smile. "Thanks. I'm making that cherry tomato pasta. Remember, the one you taught me?"
You nod, the memory bittersweet. "Yeah, I remember."
Your daughter, oblivious to the emotional undercurrents, chatters excitedly about the orange cat she’s drawing, her words filling the space with innocent energy. You listen to her, responding with the appropriate nods and laughs, but part of your attention remains on Eren. The ease with which he handles the kitchen utensils and the familiar way he moves around the space remind you of the times you cooked together, a pang of nostalgia hitting you as you watch.
The pasta is served, with Eren sitting down beside you. You take a bite, the flavors just as you remember, and you can't help but compliment Eren on his cooking. "You've got this down to a T," you say, a genuine smile touching your lips.
Eren looks pleased with the praise. "I had a good teacher," he replies, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before he turns his attention back to your daughter, who is happily twirling pasta onto her fork.
“Do you like it, sweetheart?” He asks her, removing some stray hairs from her face so they don’t end up in her meal. The sight makes your heart swell.
“Best pasta ever!” She gives him a grin and Eren chuckles, pinching her on the nose.
“You’re the cutest kid ever.”
“Have to agree with that statement.” You chime in, smiling at them both.
“It’s no surprise. You made her.” 
Eren's comment catches you off guard, a compliment wrapped in a simple truth, and it brings a flush to your cheeks.
You give a soft laugh, brushing off the sentiment with a playful roll of your eyes, but inside, your heart feels a gentle tug. "Well, I had some help," you reply, acknowledging the role he's played not just in her creation, but in the person she's becoming.
Eren nods his head, attempting to conceal his smile, but it was futile. The warmth of the moment seems to hang in the air and the rest of the meal passes with ease, punctuated by laughter and the occasional playful banter. It's a reminder of the chemistry that once brought you together, still present in these small interactions. As you watch Eren interact with your daughter, his love for her evident in every gesture and word, you once again prove to yourself that choosing him as the father of your child was the right choice. Despite the separation, he remains a devoted father in every aspect, and that's something you can't help but respect.
After dinner, as Eren clears the table and insists on handling the dishes, you take the opportunity to spend some quiet time with your daughter, helping her with a puzzle she shows you, one that she’d started with her dad a week ago.
“You’re not ready for what I’m about to show you.” Eren’s voice carries a playful tone as he approaches, drying his hands on a dish towel. 
“What is it?” You turn to him, trying to ignore the way he’s rolled up his sleeves, his big, veiny hands on display.
“Just wait here.” He says with a grin, disappearing for a moment into another room. When he returns, he’s holding something behind his back, a knowing smile playing on his lips. You exchange a curious look with your daughter, who shrugs with an amused smile. Then with a flourish, Eren presents what looks like an album, one you instantly recognise when you read the title emblazoned across the cover. It's a photo album you both started when your daughter was born, filled with snapshots of her life, from her very first moments in this world.
You take it in your hands as if you’re holding the most precious thing in your life — because in a way, you are. The album is more than just a collection of photographs; it's a tangible chronicle of your daughter's journey, a narrative woven together by the love and care of her parents. You run your fingers over the title, the letters familiar and filled with a history that only you and Eren understand. 
“I haven’t seen this in forever.” You say, with a sort of awe in your voice as you flip the first page. There she was, your daughter, in her very first photograph, a tiny bundle swaddled in a hospital blanket. 
“Found it at my mom’s house.” Eren says as he settles on the living room couch beside you. You lean into the comfort of the cushions, the album resting on your lap, and as you turn the pages, you're enveloped by the warmth of the memories it holds.
Each photograph tells a story, and you're struck by the vividness of those early days, the emotions as fresh as if they were just yesterday. The sleep-deprived smiles, the first time your daughter grasped your finger, the countless expressions of wonder as she discovered the world around her—all are captured in these pages.
"It's amazing you found this," you say, looking over at Eren with gratitude. "I didn't even realize how much I missed it until now."
Eren nods, his gaze lingering on the images. "Yeah, I stumbled upon it while helping Mom with some cleaning. I figured we should have it here, where we can all look at it whenever we want."
The two of you continue to reminisce, sharing stories and laughter as your daughter, now more interested in the album than her puzzle, climbs onto the couch to join you. She points to a photo of herself as a toddler, her face painted with an expression of pure joy, and asks about the day it was taken.
"That was your second birthday," Eren explains, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "You had that little cake with the cartoon characters on it. You were so excited you barely let us cut it."
“Can I have the same one on my next birthday?” She asks with that childlike innocence that makes each question so endearing. 
"Of course, sweetheart," you reply, matching her enthusiasm. "We'll find a cake that makes you just as happy as that one did. Maybe we can even add some new decorations to make it extra special for this year."
Eren nods in agreement, always ready to make her birthday wishes come true. "We'll make it a great birthday," he assures her. "Maybe we can even look at some pictures together and pick out what you like best for the cake design."
Your daughter claps her hands excitedly, the prospect of planning her cake adding to the anticipation of her birthday, no matter that it was 5 months ahead. "Yay! I want it to be a surprise, though. I want to see it and be like, 'Wow!'"
You both laugh, charmed by her excitement and her desire for a surprise. "It'll be our little project," Eren tells her. "A big, happy birthday surprise."
The evening continues with a warm, gentle rhythm as you turn more pages of the album. Each photograph sparks a new conversation, a new story, or a fond recollection. And as the night progressed and the album came to an end, your daughter ended up falling asleep on your shoulder. 
Eren quietly gathers her in his arms and carries her to her bedroom, her head resting against his shoulder as he walks. You follow, watching the tender scene. The house was quiet, save for the soft sounds of your daughter's breathing and the faint creak of the floorboards underfoot.
Once in her room, Eren gently lays her down in her bed, taking care not to wake her. He pulls the covers up to her chin and tucks them around her snugly, ensuring she is comfortable and warm. You stay in the doorway, your heart full, observing this nightly ritual that never seems to lose its significance.
With the stealth and coordination of seasoned parents, you both retreat from the room, Eren turning off the light and closing the door just enough to leave a comforting sliver of light from the hallway. The two of you return to the living room, the silence a stark contrast to the laughter and storytelling that had filled it just a short while ago.
“It's been a good day," Eren says softly, his voice reflecting the peaceful atmosphere.
"Yeah, it really has," you agree, leaning against his kitchen counter.
Eren looks down at his feet, like he’s trying to find the proper words. "I wanted.. to say thank you. For tonight, for this," he gestures to the space around you, encompassing the warmth of the evening spent together, "for everything."
You offer him a soft smile, "I'm glad we did this," you reply. "It's important, for her."
And for us.
“She was really happy, wasn’t she?”
You nod, trying not to look him in the eyes. You felt.. vulnerable. You and him, alone, in this close proximity.. it hasn’t happened in a long time. And with the way your heart is beating, you know what you should do next, no matter if it is the last thing you want to do.
“I should get going. It’s getting late.” You tell him quietly, afraid of not waking your daughter up. 
“Wait,” he grabs your hand just before you begin to walk away. Eren's grip is gentle but firm, a silent plea for just a moment longer. You pause, turning back to face him and those beautiful green eyes of his. 
“Y/n, I…” he hesitates, searching for the right words, his eyes locked with yours. “I’ve missed you.” 
You feel a flutter in your chest, his words stirring emotions you've tried to keep at bay. Your mouth opens slightly, but words don’t find you.
His face contorts into a melancholic smile, “I barely functioned without you.”
The confession hangs in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken truths. You can see the sincerity in Eren's eyes, the raw honesty that he's allowing you to see. It's disarming, and for a moment, you're transported back to a time when the distance between you didn't exist.
You swallow hard, the flutter in your chest growing into a storm of emotions that you struggle to contain. Nonetheless, you try to keep the conversation light, letting out a low laugh.
“Seems like you’ve been doing fine.”
But Eren doesn’t buy that. He takes a few steps closer to you until you can smell his cologne.
“Yeah, well, I had to. Doesn’t mean you haven’t been on my mind the whole time.”
Eren's proximity and his familiar scent make your heart race, and the walls you've built to compartmentalize your feelings feel as though they're beginning to crumble. You take a deep breath, trying to maintain your composure. The closeness is overwhelming, and you're reminded of the intimacy you once shared. It's a dangerous territory, and part of you wants to step back, to reestablish the boundaries that have kept you both grounded in your new reality.
“Eren, we’ve been through this-“
“I can’t be with anyone else.” He spits out, and you’re left speechless. His declaration cuts through the air, leaving a silence that feels both heavy and electric.
“And I’ve tried- fuck, I’ve really tried, but it doesn’t work. You’re my girl.”
Your stomach is doing somersaults. The intensity of Eren's confession sends your emotions into overdrive, and for a moment, you're caught in the eye of a storm that's been quietly brewing. His words, raw and unfiltered, resonate with a part of you that you've tried to keep hidden away, a part that still responds to him with a familiar pull.
“Eren, this isn’t right- things are fine now, for the first time in a long time. We’ve worked too hard for this, for where we are now.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” His eyes convey his apology, but you can see he’s been keeping this inside for way too long. “But I really don’t think I can ever imagine my life without you.”
“You won’t have to, we have a child-“
“Yes, I know.” It comes out a bit harsh, but he doesn’t mean for it to be. “But just the thought that you might end up with someone else.. it’s like a fucking tumor inside my brain.”
The rawness in Eren's voice strikes a chord within you, and you can't help but empathize with the pain he's expressing. It's clear that his feelings are genuine and that he's been wrestling with them for some time. Yet, despite the empathy you feel, you know that the health of your family dynamic is at stake.
“Eren.” You say softly but firmly, “We have a little kid together. I don’t want to screw her up like my parents did me. I want her to be happy.”
“Don’t you think she will be, though? All she does is ask me when I’m moving back. We’ve never fought in front of her. You know I’d never let that happen.”
“Yes, but we did fight a lot last time. I don’t want to live like that, like my-“
“Hey, we are not your parents, okay?” He cradles your face in his hands, and that’s when you realise there were tears forming in the corners of your eyes, “Stop thinking about them and just think about us.” 
You stay like that, looking up at him, his touch gentle and comforting.
“I’m so sorry about last time, believe me. I’ve learned from my mistakes. And I know it’s hard for you, but I’ll show you. All I want is for you and our baby to be happy.”
The warmth of Eren's hands on your face and the sincerity in his eyes make it hard to maintain the walls you've built to protect yourself. 
“I love you to death, y’know that, right?”
And then, it’s all over.
“Eren..“, you hiccup, crumbling into his arms, sobbing quietly as the emotional dam breaks. The stress of holding back, of trying to be strong and keep everything together, is suddenly too much. Eren's arms wrap around you, a sturdy presence in the midst of your vulnerability.
"I know, I know," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm as he holds you close. "I'm here. I've got you."
The comfort of his embrace allows you to let go, if only for a moment, of the fears and doubts that have been haunting you. In the safety of his arms, you allow yourself to feel the full extent of your emotions—the love, the hurt, the hope, and the uncertainty.
“There’s never going to be anyone else for me. Ever.” He whispers, “I’m willing to do the work. I’ll do whatever it takes.”
You feel the steady beat of his heart against your ear, a rhythm that once felt as familiar as your own. He loves you. He truly does, and you know that, you’ve always known. After a moment, he brings you back by the shoulders so he can look at your face.
“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”
“Stop it.”
You try to hide yourself in your hands, but he catches them softly.
“It’s true. No one else compares, baby.” He brings his hands to your hips, and your heart skips a beat. “No one.” 
“Eren..”, you say his name softly, eyes glued to his pretty lips.
“Yeah?” He reciprocates your tone, and you’re sure he’s caught on the change of atmosphere. Of course he has, he’s the one who started it.
“I’ve missed you, too.” You encircle your arms around his neck, bringing him even closer.
“Shit, not as much as me.” He presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, “It was like a part of me was gone. The only time I felt happy was when I was with our baby girl.. and when I’d see you.”
“I.. I didn’t know what to do. I thought this was the best decision, but.. I was so sad, Eren.”
“I’m sorry, baby.” He rubs soothing circles around your hips, “If I wasn’t such an idiot, this wouldn’t have happened.” 
You stay like that for a while before he catches your chin between his fingers, making your eyes meet. “Do you love me still?”
Even if you wanted to deny it, you couldn’t bring yourself to.
“.. Yes.”
You’d never seen him smile like that. It was the purest, most joyful smile you’ve ever seen on a person. He doesn’t waste any time, pulling your face closer until your lips meet, the kiss soft but passionate, one that sends butterflies across your whole being, one that you’ve dreamed about for the past 5 months. 
When the kiss ends, his gaze rests on your face, “Then..”, he removes a strand of hair behind your ear, “if you still trust me, give us another chance, Y/n.”
You’re embarrassed by how aroused you feel in this moment, with his body pressed against yours, faces inches away. 
“Kiss me again.” You whisper before pulling him to you again, this time taking the lead, your hands leading his to your lower back, signaling for him to pick you up. Eren doesn’t need an explanation with words, he knows exactly what you want. And even though he wants it more than anything in the world right now, he still knows that he needs to be cautious, to ensure that this is what you truly want and not just a momentary lapse driven by old feelings and the intimacy of the moment.
He looks into your eyes, searching for confirmation, for the certainty that this step is one you both want to take. "Are you sure?" he asks quietly, his voice a mix of desire and concern. The last thing he wants is to rush you or make a decision that could complicate the fragile progress you've been making.
"Yes," you reply, your voice steady, eyes locked with his. There's a clarity in your decision, a conscious choice that speaks to the connection you still share. You're aware of the significance of this moment, of the potential it has to either rekindle something beautiful or to reignite past pains. But right now, you're choosing to focus on the present, on the longing you feel, and the man before you who still holds your heart.
“Take me to bed, Eren. Please.”
With your affirmation, Eren gently lifts you, your legs wrapping around his waist as he supports you with strong arms. The kiss deepens, fueled by longing and a profound familiarity that has never truly faded. It's a dance of lips and breath, a silent conversation that speaks volumes about the love and tension that have always characterized your relationship.
Eren carries you with a tenderness that belies his strength, each step towards the bedroom measured and deliberate. The world outside this moment—the doubts, the history, the fears—falls away, leaving only the two of you and the undeniable pull that has always existed between you.
As he lays you down on the bed, there's a reverence in his touch, a silent promise to cherish and respect the trust you're placing in him. He kisses your lips, your cheeks, your chin, and each kiss is a wordless vow, a gentle affirmation of his love for you. Eren's lips move with a purpose, tracing a path of passion across your neck, your soft breaths an indication that he’s on the right path. When he reaches the buttons of your shirt, his eyes meet yours again, a silent question lingering in them, seeking permission to continue. You nod slightly, watching as he undoes each button slowly. When he realises you’re not wearing a bra, he lets out a low groan before taking a nipple inside his mouth. You moan, his expert tongue drawing circles around the nub, making you feel a warmth at the pit of your stomach. His fingers go to the other breast, squeezing it not too gently, something you understand given the fact he hasn’t touched you in more than five months. 
“You have the most perfect tits.” The comment pulls a soft giggle out of you, one that disappears the moment his palm lands on your clothed heat. Now he’s the one smiling, his tongue still working your sensitive nipples. He knew you loved it when he played with your breasts.
When he decides to keep going down, he lets go of your tit with a bop, then kisses down your navel, paying attention to every part of your unclothed body.
“I’ve thought about this every day.” A kiss. “Every night.” A lick. “Every fucking hour you weren’t with me.” A suckle.
Your moans echo through the bedroom as Eren undoes the belt on your jeans, chuckling when your impatient self lifts your hips to help him remove the garments more easily. He does as you wish, throwing your jeans onto the floor, cursing when he sees your white panties are soaked with your essence.
“It’s been so long, huh, baby?” He draws soothing circles around your clothed clit, “You missed me here?” 
“Yes, yes,” you’re restless, moving against his hand, trying to bring yourself more pleasure. “Please, Eren, please, I can’t wait any longer.”
“You won’t have to, baby, I promise.” And even if he didn’t, his erection was beginning to feel more painful than pleasurable. He needed to be inside you.
“I have to make you cum first, though.” He says firmly, “I need you to cum on my tongue.”
“No, just- please, can we do that later? I just, I need-“
“No.” And then you feel his tongue on your clit, and you have to put your hands against your mouth to stop yourself from moaning too loudly. He’s always been so, so good at eating you out, always taking his time with it, until you were creaming inside his mouth, trying to get away from him from how sensitive he’d made you after cumming so many times. 
When he pushes his middle finger in, you start losing your mind. 
“Oh fuck, you’re drenched. Do you want another one?” 
He was such a good fucking talker, too. 
“Do it, do it, please-“
And that, he did, moving them in and out of you, then spitting on his other hand so it could go up to your breast and rub around your nipple. The combination, needless to say, makes you cum within seconds. 
Your whole body tenses as you let out a strained moan of his name, the strength of your orgasm leaving you completely breathless. It’s the kind of orgasm you feel on your fingertips, the type that makes every touch to your body electrifying.  
“I’m sorry, baby, I just couldn’t help it.” You faintly hear Eren’s voice, accompanied by the sound of clothes rustling that you believe are his. When you finally have the strength to look down, you see his beautiful, naked body before you, his cock finally free from its contentment. It’s a sight for sore eyes, and yours sure were that. His mouth shines with your liquids, and you don’t know why you’re blushing, as if you didn’t have this man’s child. He smiles down at you before he starts rubbing his tip at your entrance, hissing from how wet you are.
“I can’t believe you’re here.” He says, so gently, as if he’s not about to rock your whole world. “It hurt missing you so much.”
You want to kiss him in that moment, tell him it’s going to be fine, that you still love him, but you’re deprived of that opportunity when he pushes in, stretching your walls because of how big he is. Even though you were prepped, it still stung a little, and you think Eren knows because his strokes are slow and gentle, easing his way inside you.
“You feel amazing.” He whispers as he brings himself down to give you a sloppy kiss, your moans synchronising as he moves inside you. Your hands roam around his strong back, unconsciously pulling him down so you can feel him deeper.
“You want it harder, baby?” He asks between kisses, and you nod frantically, like it’s the only thing you will ever want in your life. When he begins to fuck you in a hastier pace, filling you up to the brim, he has to put his palm in front of your mouth so you don’t wake your sleeping daughter up.
“Shh, I know, I feel it too,” he has a hard time controlling himself as well, your pussy sucking him in so deliciously, he thinks he can stay like this forever. “Look at your tits bouncing. Just- if you could see yourself right now. You’re unreal.”
His words go to one place and one place only, making it even more pleasurable when he hits your spot over and over again.
“Rub your clit.” He instructs, sounding more and more out of breath. “I want you to cum with me.”
You do as you’re told, your fingers working on your sensitive bud as Eren stands back on his knees, his abs flexing with every move of his hips. He was becoming sloppier, like he was losing control of his rhythm, his fingers plunged into the fat of your ass as he moved you onto his dick. 
“Rub them faster.” He groans, “I’m so fucking close.”
“Oh, god!” Your body bounces on the mattress as you feel the nearing rush of your second orgasm approaching. “It’s coming, I’m- oh fuck, I’m gonna-“
“Me too, shit, shit, I love you,”, he fucks you through both your orgasms, lips swallowing your desperate moans, with a little tear rolling down your face from all the stimulation and his confession. No matter how many times you heard it, it still pulled an emotional reaction out of you.
When Eren’s hips come to a halt, he doesn’t pull out immediately, choosing to stay close to you and pepper your neck and shoulders with open-mouthed kisses. You’re spent, trying to catch your non-existing breath as your hand rubs gentle circles around your lover’s back. 
“I still can’t believe this happened.”
You smile against his ruffled hair, “Well, you better believe it because you just fucked the shit out of me.”
Your laughters fill the bedroom air, making the atmosphere lighter after the emotional rollercoaster that was the past hour. Eren cradles your face in his hands, and you just can’t imagine being any less happy than you are in this moment, “I’m never, ever letting you go again. Understand?” His voice is firm yet filled with a warmth that resonates with every beat of your heart.
You gaze into Eren's eyes, seeing the determination and love that shine back at you. His declaration, so full of certainty, wraps around you like a comforting embrace.
"I wouldn’t want you to," you reply, reaching your hand up to caress his cheek. "But we have to promise each other something, Eren. We have to promise that we'll communicate, be honest, and work through things together. No running, no hiding—just us, facing everything as a team."
Eren nods, the seriousness of your words not lost on him. "I told you, I’ll do whatever it takes.", and you can tell by the look in his eyes that he means it.
You lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, a seal to the vows you've just exchanged. It's a kiss that speaks of new beginnings, of forgiveness, and of the love that has weathered the storm.
Eren nestles his head against your chest, finding solace in the steady thrum of your heartbeat, while your fingers tenderly weave through his hair, caressing him with every affectionate stroke.
“What will we tell your mini-you?”
“That I slept on the couch. She’ll be so happy she won’t even care about anything else.”
You let out a chuckle, “That, she will be.”
And as you fall asleep in each others arms, the world outside fades into insignificance. The comfort of Eren's weight against you, the gentle rise and fall of his breathing, and the softness of his hair beneath your fingertips are the only realities that matter. That will ever matter.
…..
A/N: I’m having a writer’s strike and this is what came out of it. It.. surely takes a turn lol. But what is love without a little angst😅 byeee
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pascals-doll · 1 day
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unwanted smoke sessions
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ellie williams x reader
ೀ this is just a pure nasty thought in my high mind rn like RIGHT NEOW!!! enjoy this mini drabble.
ೀ we seen mean!dealer ellie on 4/20 but what about sub!ellie yall likeee😩🤧
ೀ description: SMUT! sub!ellie, dom!reader, mean!reader, no descriptions of reader except yall is smoking!, mentions of dina!, use of sex toy (vibrator use—ellie rec), poessesive!reader, USE OF BELT BONDAGE (ellie rec), mentions of jealous reader, HELLA OVERSTIMULATION (ellie rec), fingering (ellie rec), slight cum denial (if u squint frfr) 💝
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you had walked in ellie and dina having a smoke sesh together. they passed the blunt that was shared in between the both of them, sitting closely as their shoulders brushed each other’s.
you observed them for a good miniute before walking through, dina scooting away slightly which just made your blood boil more.
they were passing a dutchie, might aswell been fuckin’ french kissing while at it.
“you love this, don’t you? pretty girl.” you praised as you puffed on your joint lazily. one of your hands held the joint you puffed on as the other held a slim bullet vibrator up to Ellie’s overstimulated clit.
you were working ellie to her third orgasm of the day, lays sprawled open and wide across as her hands were pulled together by your own pretty shiny belt as they thrashed against her chest; squirming around as she cries out your name.
“jesus fuck—please!” ellie begged.
ellie wasn’t much of a moaner, more of a whimper and silent-like sounds falling from her lips, but tonight. tonight was different.
you wanted her to be loud, you were making sure of it.
“you also loved your little sesh with dina, huh baby?” you were coy and your face gleamed dangerously. you click the vibrator once, setting it higher. you listen to the way the vibration level increases through the loud buzzes coming from the beautiful pleasureable machinery.
you cocked your head to the side as you brought your joint to take another drag, your face completely deadpan as you press the tip of the slim bullet into her clit more then angling it.
you smoked your joint without a care, as if you didn’t have your girlfriend squirming and screaming right under you.
“no! fuck—please no, it was nothing! i swear.” she cried out, her hips bucking into the machinery helplessly. your brows furrowed, exhaling.
“oh… no? then why were you so close, my love? all gigglin’—smilin’ and shit. you think she cute?” you turn the vibrator slightly, circling it around her own cum coated clit aswell.
ellies chest heaved as she practically tore out cries from her throat because of the overwhelming sensation of pressuring high vibrations on her soak and vulnerable arousal. “god no! no! y’know this—pu-please!” ellie was crumbling, exactly how you wanted.
“know what? only thing i know is who’s pussy this belong too—you remember, don’t’ya?” you gritted through your teeth.
you leaned down to kiss away the tears that dare to fall from the corners of ellie’s eyes, bringing up your hand to caress her hot pink cheeks as you looked into her flushed and fucked out eyes.
“no! fuck no!—only you, always you.” ellies cry of denial fizzes into a sob. you began to pepper kisses all over her; her tear-stained cheeks, lips, jaw, neck, and down below. easying her.
“this sweet wet pussy—who does it belong too, hm?” your smile was so sweet and mean against the rhythm of her broken and sloppy kisses had her brain short circuiting. your eyes never left hers as you continued to smoke your joint down to a roach.
“you baby, i swear—pussy s’all yourss.” her fucked out state couldn’t stop her from slurring out. you watch the way her wrists squirmed together and shook while enclosed within your belt as her perky titties mushes together. you just gave her another teasing smile.
you took your ring and middle finger, lathering it in her leaking creamy juices as you fingers massaged her sensitive, erupting the most shallow moans from the auburn beauty. the way her cunt glistened while covered in her own cum had you salivating, observing the way her cunt basically sobbed for something while spasming around nothing.
your joint was nothing but a conetip, completely disregarding it as you flicked it with your finger before replacing hands, now using your dominant hand to hold the vibrator.
“couldn’t quite hear’ya, pretty girl.” you plunge your two fingers into her desperate hole, fucking your fingers in and out as you kept the slim bullet vibrator on her clit. the sensation of the high vibrations sending her body through carnal shockwaves as her belted wrists reach out to try to hold onto you.
“you, you, only you—fuck!”
“say you won’t smoke with her ever again—or you won’t come.”
“i-i won’t smoke—fuck me! i wont smoke with ha-her ever again.” the tiltalting wave of overwhelming pleasure as her body thrilled itself towards her fourth orgasm.
“say her name.”
“please! mm’soo close!” she begged, legs intensely twining together tightly closing around the bullet vibrations, clutching the vibrator onto her pussy for her dear life.
“say her fucking name!” you couldn’t help but yell as you felt jealousy swallowing your insides.
“gah! fuck me!—i wont ever smoke with dina again, i promise—m’yours! im cumming, fuck m’cumming!” ellie finally rides through her orgasm. you turned off the vibrator as soon you felt her cunt clenching sex mush around your soaked fingers.
you let out a happy hum as you brought your fingers to suck off clean, savoring the fruity salty she tasted. you then were quick to unbuckle the belt from around her wrists, massaging them as you brought them to wrap around your neck as you pulled her into you.
“no more unwanted smoke sessions.”
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dolls-taglist: ̗̀➛ @marsworlddd @cosmopolitanaut @elliewilliamsgirl3 @elliewilliamgfooc @graviewaviee @yourelliewillms @gato-chino @elliesgf1244 @deliriousrn @yondaimekazzy @moonyvs4 @tearouthearts @ride4els @colecassidysfav @theoraekenslover @localorphanage @elsgirll @starmoon333 @elliesgf4444
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a/n: i love when my weed makes me cook sum up 4 all yall beautiful people !! hoping this will make yall happy till ts weekend, uploading chap. 4 of GATÚBELA ! love you all and thank u for the patience :3
ALSO IF MY GIRL EVER SMOKE W ANOTHER BITCH THATS A BODY IDGAF???? OSRS😭😭
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milla-frenchy · 3 days
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The hounds of hell 2
Written with @aurorawritestoescape
4k2 | Javier Peña x fem reader x Steve Murphy | ao3 Summary: when you get reminded of the night you spent with Steve and Javi, you can’t help but come for more Warnings: 18+ mdni. semi public sex, masturbation (f/m), oral (f/m), threesome, dirty talk, praise kink, size kink, degradation, piv, cum eating, creampies. No age specified
a/n: this is a contribution to the boyd-a-thon event for PCRF @toxicanonymity 🖤🐨
Kate's masterlist | My masterlist Part 1 | series masterlist
***********
For several days, you wondered what exactly had happened that night. You had fragments of memories, you knew they had fucked you, but without remembering all the details.
Part of you resented them for manipulating you, making you feel like you could trust them. Another part thought that you had been way too naive. And the last part made you touch yourself every single night, thinking of them.
A few weeks later, you finally went back to that bar, even if you didn’t know how you would react if you saw them. But they weren't there that night, nor the other ones. So you danced, drank, met people, other men. You had sex with some of them, but never got the thrill you’d felt that night, never had the thought that had struck you the next day -“it was the best fucking of my life.”
It was Saturday night and you were dancing, twirling, enjoying yourself in a crowd of people. Two hands rested on your hips, and you froze when you heard “hey, baby”, soft lips against your ear. You turned around, and faced Steve’s blue eyes, his self-confident smile, his blonde hair. It was slightly longer than the last time, messier.
“Don’t call me that, and fuck off.” The lack of memories of that night instantly made you act in a bitter and defensive way.
He pulled back and raised his hands, as if to say “ok, whatever you want.”
You contemplated leaving, but you convinced yourself that you didn’t have to. He could go if he wanted, but you’d stay. You bottomed a shot at the bar and then danced again. He seemed to have left. Later, you went into the bathroom, and as the door was closing, Steve slipped in and locked it. 
“What the fuck?”
You barely had time to finish your sentence when he approached you, smiling. Not a mean or provocative smile. A smile that meant “I know you want it.” Fuck, did you want it? He already managed to make you doubt yourself.
His hands were on your hips and he tried to kiss you. You turned your head to the side, swerving him, and said “No, stop.” He looked at you and gave you that smile again. He had so much self confidence that it was indecent. He kissed your cheek, then moved down to your neck that he covered with soft, hot kisses, making your eyes roll back.
“Come on, baby, let me kiss you.”
He moved back up to your lips and just before kissing you, he looked deep in your eyes for a few seconds. You got lost in his gaze. When he pressed his lips to yours, you felt almost all your doubts disappear and you stopped pushing him away. His tongue was already brushing against your lips, as if he was asking for permission to slide it in. You didn't keep him waiting long. In a moment, your tongue was swirling against his. He moaned into your mouth, and you felt yourself gush. His hands shifted from your cheeks, to your breasts, then your hips. They brushed against your body, your dress, and you couldn't help but roll your hips towards him.
“Yeah…You want this cock, beautiful? Just like that night?”, he said, his forehead pressed against yours, so close that you could smell his minty breath.
“No…no, I don’t. Can’t even remember what you two had done to me.”
“You don’t remember?” he asked, staring at you with narrowed eyes. You shook your head. 
“Lemme help you”, he smirked and slipped his hand between your thighs, pulled up your dress and caressed your folds through your panties.
“Damn…seems like your cunt ain’t forgot, baby…she’s already soaked.”
He kneeled and pulled down your panties, looking at your pussy for a few seconds before glancing up at you. You bit your lower lip, waiting for him to place his lips on you, there, in this dark bathroom. But he smiled and stood up, covered his thumb with your slick, and brought it to your clit. He rubbed it gently, while your eyes were locked, your breathing speeding up with every second. Keeping his thumb on your clit, he pushed two fingers in your pussy, making you moan. You rolled your hips towards his fingers, fucking yourself on them. You grabbed his shirt to hide your face, nuzzling his neck, being ashamed of breaking so easily for him. 
“Fuck…I’m gonna…”
“Yeah, baby, I know. Come on my fingers, clench ‘em again. Even faster than in the car, fuck.”
He pressed his crotch against your hip, and you could feel his bulge. You knew he loved to show how hard he could be, how big his dick was. “Oh, fuck,” you whimpered, just before you came. He let you ride out your orgasm, his thumb resting on your clit, his fingers still buried inside you. Then he slowly removed them from your dripping cunt and licked them one by one, not taking his eyes off you and added “I remember everythin’, baby.”
Flashbacks started to come back to you. You saw yourself coming on their fingers, their tongues, their cocks. 
Steve started backing up until he leaned against the opposite wall, less than four feet from you, and you watched him unzip his jeans and pull out his cock. He spat in his hand and started slowly jerking off in front of you.
“Show me your pussy, baby. Lemme see her.”
His words were a melody you didn't want to stop. You did like he asked, pulling up your dress for him. Your panties were still around your ankles. You bunched up the fabric in your fists, and held it around your hips. With your pussy offered to his view, his wrist began speeding up.
“Touch yourself a little. Yeah, just like that, shit…” Your clit was still throbbing under your fingers but you didn't want to stop. You wanted to see him cum. "Still sensitive baby? Yeah, bet ya are, came hard for me." You nodded, pushed a finger into your core and then brought it to your lips, tasting your wetness. He was jacking off his shaft fast now. “Shit. You’re so fuckin' hot. Ya like that little pussy juice? Yeah, I like it too…fuck…fuck…oh shiiiiit.”
His cum spurted out, some of it landing on the ground, and some of it onto his clenched fist. “Damn, you’re a naughty thing. And you ain't even drunk, baby…” he laughed, groaning, milking his cock to the very last drop. And he smirked, as his eyes sparkled.
He wiped his hand, moved closer to you, tucking his cock back in his pants, gave you a piece of paper and whispered in your ear, “Be at this address, tomorrow at 6pm. Javi and I will give it to ya good, if you’re ready for part 2.”
He wrapped his big hands around your neck in the most gentle way, and gave you a languid kiss which made your head spin. When he walked out of the bathroom, your pussy was clenching desperately, so you locked the door behind him, and got off a second time. 
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You had some doubts about coming to meet Steve and Javi but they were overshadowed by the need to be used by the men again. 
Flashbacks of the night spent with them began driving you insane with lust. Especially after Steve’s skillful fingers coaxed a hardest climax out of you in the bar bathroom. 
So the next day you went to Javi’s place. When Steve opened the door he immediately wrapped his arms around you and gently kissed your cheek. 
“Here’s my baby,” he whispered in your ear, making your skin erupt in goosebumps. He led you to the living room where you found Javi sitting in an armchair. He nodded and gave you a little smile. Your clit twitched when his dark eyes glided up and down your body.  
“Want a drink?” Steve asked, when you sat down on the couch. You agreed to have a beer and after getting it, he joined you. His hand was immediately on your naked thigh, lips tracing paths along your neck. Your core was buzzing with the anticipation of the night and you moaned when Steve’s hand slithered up to your heated center. 
“Damn, Javi, our girl ain’t wearing any panties,” Steve said, not tearing his blown eyes from yours. 
“Putita, (little slut),” you heard Javi mumble. 
“You’re so fucking hot.” Your breath hitched when Steve’s thumb slipped between your folds and gently rubbed your hardening clit. 
You moaned his name and his lips brushed yours as he began caressing your bud with feather light strokes. He was playing with you, winding up your arousal more and more until you were nothing but a trembling needy mess under his touch. 
“Please…,” you whined and Javi chuckled. 
“What do you need, baby?” Steve asked, his eyes finding yours while he was torturing you with his soft caress. 
Javi leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and said, “Our little slut needs what she came for, Steve. To get fucked. Right, Hermosa?” You looked into his eyes and nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up. 
“Say it, beautiful,” Steve whispered, pulling his hand away from your pussy and making you whine with need. 
You didn’t care that it felt humiliating. On the contrary the fact that they had such power over you was turning you on even more. You’d do anything to be used by them at that moment. So you cleared your throat and mumbled, “Please, fuck me.”
Javi smirked, adjusting his bulge, and Steve kissed your cheek before getting up, pulling you up on your feet and then lying down on the floor along the couch. 
“C’mere, baby. Sit on my face,” he said, motioning for you to straddle him with his hands. You looked at Javi and he got up and stood behind you, his hands on your waist,  “Don’t be shy, cariño, Steve’s gonna make you feel real good.” You felt his hands pulling up your dress until he slipped it off your body completely. Now you were absolutely naked in a room with two fully clothed men. 
Steve moaned at the sight of you, “Fuck, c’mon, beautiful. Be a good girl and let me taste this sweet pussy.” 
You bit your lip and kneeled down over Steve’s face. Javi sat on the couch and you saw him unzipping his jeans. You got mesmerized when he took his gorgeous cock out but suddenly Steve’s hands grabbed your hips and he pulled you down on his face. You felt his soft lips latch onto your throbbing pussy and whimpered when his tongue slid between your folds. He slowly licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit, and began sucking on the bud making you arch your back and flutter your eyes shut.  
“Look at this little whore, Steve. There was no need to get her drunk that night. ‘m sure she’d have jumped at the chance to be fucked by us.”
Steve hummed against your heat and the vibrations sent a new wave of pleasure through your body.
“More, Steve, please,” you pleaded, clenching his blond hair with your fist and rolling your hips getting desperate for a release. 
You looked down and saw his eyes glint with mischief. Steve gave you a wink, pushed your folds apart with his fingers and flattened his tongue against your blooming pussy. He rubbed your clit and then slid down to lap at your crying hole. 
“She’s sweet, yeah?” Javi asked Steve, watching him devour your cunt while his big hand was slowly sliding up and down his weeping cock. You licked your lips throwing a glance at it and Javi noticed. 
“I think putita wants to suck on something big and juicy. Don’t you, cariño?” He asked as he got up and stood next to Steve and you. His cock bobbed in front of your face. Javi took it in his hand at the base and you looked up at him. He was towering over you, your eyes hazy with the pleasure Steve was giving you. Javi cupped your cheek and you purred into his touch. 
“Open up, putita,” he said gently as his fingers pinched your chin and pulled it down, opening your mouth. 
His cock was soft and hot on your tongue and you began slowly pleasuring him. You gently sucked on the tip first and then took him deeper, until it reached the back of your throat. 
“Oh, I love this mouth,” Javi breathed out, tilting his head back. But soon his eyes were cast down again and he watched you work his cock and Steve devour your glistening pussy. 
The man between your legs was relentlessly licking at your cunt, slurping and groaning against your center. It was getting harder and harder to concentrate on the cock in your mouth and you kept pausing and just drooling around Javi’s stiff length. 
“Fuck, Steve, what are you doing to her down there? She can’t suck my cock right, got too pleasure-dumb.”
Steve chuckled against your clit and you moaned loudly around Javi’s member. 
“Am I eating you well, baby?” Steve asked parting from your pussy for a second and slightly biting your inner thigh. You glanced up at Javi, eyes glossy and blown. 
“Oh, putita’s gone, Steve,” Javi laughed at your state and added, “I’ll have to do everything myself then.”
With that he took your head between his hands and started thrusting his hot cock into your mouth. He was gentle at first but the deeper he pushed his length into you, the rougher he was getting. Soon he was fucking your mouth in earnest, making you drool and gasp for air every chance he granted you, while Steve was bringing you close to the climax. 
Javi dipped his cock into your throat as Steve swirled your clit with his tongue and you came undone, drowning Steve’s mouth with your slick and moaning loudly around Javi’s member.
“Oh, cariño, your mouth is heaven but I need to last,” Javi groaned, pulling you off his cock, “let’s get her to bed, Steve.”
“Lie down, and spread your legs for me,” you heard Steve command as soon as you stepped into the bedroom. 
You got on the bed and spread them slightly, feeling shy.
“Spread them more. Show me that wet pussy.”
You spread your thighs further.
“I said more, baby.”
This time you used your fingers and parted your folds. You felt both uncomfortable with their predatory attitude and horny at the idea of what they were going to do to you next. They made no secret of their desire and hunger for you. You felt like you were leaking onto the sheets. Steve looked at you like at a piece of meat, his swollen cock in his hand, precum leaking.
“You see that, Javi?”
“Hard to miss it, she's dripping,” the man answered, stroking his cock lazily. “I love when they ruin my sheets. Come on, give her what she wants. Your cock. Right, Hermosa?”
You noded.
“Say it.”
“I…want your cock”, you said, looking at Steve only, that time.
He lay down between your legs, spread them with his knees, and slid his tip between your folds, one hand resting on your cheek.
“You’re gonna take this cock like a good girl?”
“Yeah…”
He thrust in slightly making you whimper, and your hands squeezed his biceps.
“Tell me how much you wanna get fucked.”
“I…I want you two to fuck me. Please”, you begged. “I can't stop thinking about it.”
“Yeah? Did you touch yourself, thinking about our cocks?”
“Yeah, a few times.”
“Putita”, Javi hissed through his teeth.
Steve kept thrusting in slowly, his hand holding your chin so you wouldn’t take your eyes off him while his thick cock was spreading your folds almost painfully, his other hand on your hip as leverage.
“Oh fuck…”
“Yeah, just like that. That’s a good girl.”
“I’m so fuckin’ hard. Blow me again, let’s use more of your holes.”
Javi slipped his tip in your mouth and you eagerly welcomed it. You didn't recognize yourself. You felt like only your senses were directing you, as you let Javi fuck your mouth, and Steve your cunt.
“Mierda, look at that slut. Can’t believe she came back for more.”
“Yeah, well…we fucked her good. And we’re doing it again. Look at you taking these cocks, baby…” Steve groaned, bottoming out. Your fingers dug into his flesh. Javi’s cock pushed into your throat just as Steve’s member was thrust in deep inside your core. You moaned softly, as much as Javi's cock would allow you to. Then he pulled back, leaving only the tip in your mouth.
“Lick the tip, Hermosa. I want you to taste me in your mouth, before I fill up your pussy.”
You kept sucking him, his precum flowing down  your throat. “Damn, you’re a natural…one day, I’ll fill that throat too. But not today. Today we’re gonna fill your cunt and make you scream on our cocks.”
He was fucking your mouth again, slowly. You realized he was doing it at the same pace as Steve was fucking your pussy.
“Damn, I can see your dick in her throat, Javi.”
And Steve kissed your neck, there. Fuck, that was hot. They complemented it other well, like they had been fucking girls together for a long time. You wondered how many they had fucked before you. If they had fucked anyone else since that night.
“Fuck the side of her mouth Javi. Wanna see more.”
You looked up and saw Javi’s smirk as he did what Steve asked. Steve brushed his nose against your cheek, then placed his lips on it. Javi's cock created a bump that Steve was bound to feel under his lips.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” you though and moaned. 
Steve continued to slowly thrust in your pussy. He was brushing against your g spot with every stroke and you felt your orgasm building.
Javi pulled out his cock that was glistening with your saliva and sat in the chair next to the bed. “Two cocks slut”, he mumbled, thighs spread wide, his cock hard and weeping. He was watching Steve fuck you and a smirk didn't leave his face. He took his balls in his hand and squeezed them. 
“She’s taking it good, damn,” Steve said. 
“Yeah,” you whimpered.  
“Oh…I ain’t talking about you, baby…I’m talking about her”, he replied, pulling away from you to point his chin at your pussy.
You cheeks started burning when you heard him.
“You’re gonna take our cum, Hermosa? You’re gonna let us fill you up?”
“Yeah, I want it.”
Steve turned your face towards him after gently grasping your chin between his fingers.
“You’re gonna look at me, baby, when you’re coming on my cock. Want to see your eyes roll back. Ok?"
You nodded. Your moans filled the room, barely drowned out by the sound of the bodies slapping against each other and your wetness around his cock.
“Fuck, I feel her pussy squeezing me…she’s gonna come. Come on, beautiful, yeah, just like that.”
Javi stood up and moved closer to the bed. “Can’t wait to stuff you too.”
Their words made you explode on Steve’s cock who grunted louder “oh fuck, fuck! She’s choking me so hard, man…I can’t…fuck” as he came deep inside your pussy, his eyes staring into yours.
You were feeling Steve’s cum fill you to the brim and spill out of your hole. You looked deep into his eyes and then glanced down at his mouth. In a second he kissed you, slowly and gently, his cock still twitching inside your overflowing pussy and you made out until you heard Javi’s velvety voice,
“My turn, lovebirds.”
Steve’s lips left yours and he gave you a warm smile before pulling out and getting off you. He sat in the chair and took the cigarette that Javi had left still burning in the ashtray. 
Javi soon took his place between your thighs which made you feel like a fuck doll again. Not that you minded, you had come to be used by them and that’s what they were doing. 
So you welcomed Javi’s stiff cock as soon as it nudged your stretched hole and almost pierced yourself on it. Javi moaned when his length slid inside your sloppy core easily, like a hot knife through butter. 
“Damn, Steve, she’s full of you. So wet and warm.”
As soon as he made one thrust, you heard your pussy squelch with all the cum inside and you averted your eyes from Javi to Steve. 
“Oh, are you embarrassed, nuestra putita? (Our little slut). No shame in being a cum dumpster for a good man. Or two good men,” he chuckled and Steve laughed. 
Your cheeks were burning but his words made you clench hard on his cock which didn’t go unnoticed by Javi and he continued, “So you’re gonna take it-”, he thrust in hard and slowly retraced his cock,”-like a good girl,” he groaned with another rough stroke to your pussy. 
Then with one hand on the back of your neck and the other gripping your hip he started pounding into you. His piercing eyes on you, he watched your face twist with pleasure. 
“You’re gonna come again, hermosa,” he said without a shade of question in his tone. 
He got up on his knees, not pulling out, and continued fucking you. 
You glanced at Steve who was still smoking in the chair, his big cock in his veiny hand. 
Javi’s tip hit your cervix and you whimpered. 
“You know, baby,” Steve said after taking another drag, “fucking you is the best, but watching you getting railed is a very close second.”
Then he put out the cigarette and walked up to the bed. He smiled at you and then his gaze slid down your sweaty, heated body to the spot where Javi’s cock was plunging in and out of your crying pussy. 
“Look at your creamy soaked cock, Javi,” Steve murmured and gave himself a few strokes. He was already hard again.
Javi just growled in response, probably concentrated on not blowing his load just yet. 
Your gaze was darting between Javi’s pleasured face and Steve’s big hand wrapped around his member and you licked your lips when a drop of precum beaded on the tip. 
“Already thirsty, beautiful?” Steve murmured, coming up to your head. “Lucky for you, I’m hard again.”
He put one knee on the bed bringing his cock closer to your face and you lifted yourself on your elbows to reach it with your mouth. You didn’t understand why you were so hungry for them both but the desire was leading you relentlessly. You wanted your every hole to be plugged by them, ruined by them and were ready to give them all of you. 
So you took Steve in your mouth and looking up into his blue eyes let him fuck your throat. He was careful, more gentle than Javi and you reveled in ecstasy watching his stomach heave, eyes get darker because of you. 
Soon Javi’s cock made your pussy contract around him and you started coming. Steve, almost sent over the edge by your whimpers, pulled you off and moved lower on the bed pointing his cock at your lower belly. 
“Aahh,” he moaned and his cock began spurting his pearly cum over your body. The load landed on your belly, mound and puffy folds and Steve stroked his cock till the last drop was on you.  
You brought your fingers there and they danced over his warm seed, spreading it over your skin, gently caressing your clit using it as lube. 
The sight of you playing with Steve’s cum made Javi groan and he started erupting inside you adding his cum to Steve’s. 
Steve plopped on the bed next to you looking satiated while Javi’s cock was still pulsating in your pussy. 
“Our good girl,” Steve whispered in your ear and tilted your head to kiss you. You were still making out when Javi pulled out his cock. 
“Clean me up, Hermosa.”
You nodded and he walked on his knees up the bed, until your head was between his thighs. You lifted up your torso and licked all the salty cum off his softening cock. 
“Balls too, sweetheart,” Steve whispered and you followed the command, feeling your pussy tingle again. 
When Javi’s cock and sack were clean you slumped down on the bed and Javi joined you two with a cigarette between his lips. 
“Thank you, beautiful,” Steve said before kissing you. 
“Eres inceíble,”(you’re amazing) Javi praised you before taking a drag. You smiled at him, spent and satisfied, and then turned to Steve. 
“C’mere, baby,” he told you and pulled you into his big arms. You two soon fell asleep, your head on his shoulder, and when Javi finished his cigarette he cuddled up to you from behind. That was the first night you slept with them until the morning. 
*******************
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deadsetobsessions · 3 days
Text
Once more the hallucinations hit, and once more I am here writing it out.
My brain is fucking terrifying and I want out, so bad. This came to me in the form of a nightmare.
Also, please don’t take the timeline into consideration, because I have no idea what’s going on. Again, nightmares and dreams tend to not have the best coherency when it comes to plot and timelines. The reincarnation doesn’t have a name, I was too busy feeling terrified. Shit in parentheses was how I experienced the nightmare. Everything else is just me adding sprinkle sprinkle.
——
Ra’s al Ghul.
Talia al Ghul.
Two names that she had been aware of, in the peripherals of her hyper fixation. Two characters meant to enhance the story of the Dark Knight. Side characters, on a good day. Perhaps, a main antagonist on a better day.
On a bad day?
Main characters. Real, living people. Real, living, breathing assassins.
Unfortunately, they’re her new family. One she remembered coming into, bathed in a pool of blood and screams.
She was not a baby.
She is now, a baby. The first of Talia al Ghul’s children. The eldest, once Damian al Ghul was born.
Swaddled in emerald green and gold silks, she was presented to a man with silver streaked hair and a receding hairline. He too, was robed in green and golds.
“A daughter, Talia?” He rumbled, the smooth Arabic flowing out of his mouth failing to hide the acrid disappointment. The child, past the haze of confusion of suddenly being deported from her own adult body into one of a helpless child, felt a stirring of irritation. It’s good she learned the language, because now she knew exactly how Ra’s felt about her. The child grumbled a displeased sound. Not that she would have ignored the fact that her grandfather was Ra’s al Ghul. (He smelled like moth eaten fabric and blood- but I think that was because my cat accidentally scratched me.)
“My apologies, father.”
“Do not tell the young detective of this. Had it been a son, perhaps things would have been different. No, a daughter would only hinder him.”
Talia bowed, hands tightening on her daughter. “May I raise her, father?”
“A resource is still a resource. Go ahead, Talia.”
“Yes, father.” Talia took the dismissal and bowed before leaving.
On her way back to the room with the reincarnation’s crib, Talia al Ghul stroked her daughter’s head.
“I wish you were born a boy, my daughter. I am sorry my beloved will never know of you.”
The reincarnation looked at her new mother. She’s young, the woman-child realized. A teenager.
“You’ll have to be useful, my daughter. Your grandfather is not so kind as to keep the useless. I… do not wish for your death,” her mother muttered.
Great. She got new life and it’s already in danger.
——
She learned to swing a knife. Swords. She learned and devoured the teachings. She learned to be useful.
But then they asked her to take the life of a man who did her no wrong.
Her baby blues clashed with her grandfather’s Lazarus green.
She was still young. A child.
“No.”
“No?”
“He did no wrong.”
“He failed, granddaughter.” Ra’s smiled down at her, patronizing. Cruel. “Perhaps you possess your father’s heart, and you are foolishly sentimental, as women and children tend to be. But in the end, you are an al Ghul and you will obey. Plunge in your blade and I will reward you.”
The reincarnation looked at the man kneeling in front of her, resignation and a hint of pity in what little she could see of his face.
She’s already died before. What did she have to be afraid of?
“No.”
They tried to beat the weakness out of her. It didn’t work.
——
The reincarnation stared at the mirror, left alone in an opulent cage of gold and emeralds and precious stones that meant little to her now.
Her hands traced her back, small fingers finding purchase in soft skin. Her mouth opened fruitlessly, noise refusing to escape. She still felt the burning magic, the brand her own blood had carved into her skin and soul because she refused to kill. The chains her grandfather had shackled around her with magic and cruel amusement.
She had killed him, in the end. Obey, or be punished. Her body had moved without her permission, the reincarnation a prisoner in a body that refused to do as she commanded. The knife swung, a life taken, her hands dipped in red.
She learned a valuable lesson that day.
There were things worse than death.
“This is an order, granddaughter.”
The Magic had flared a searing heat at her neck, forcing her to kneel on broken legs. Ra’s loomed above, authority in his voice. She was bound to obey, regardless.
“You will never speak another word of affection, you will never speak another word to anyone unless I allow it. Perhaps this will teach you of your folly, and your place in this world.”
The loss of her freedom and the fear that came with it was a bitter and devastating lesson.
——
Ra’s al Ghul was so much worse than what little she knew of him.
She was right to be afraid for herself.
Her mother had worried, when she’d withdrawn and refused to speak to her. Even if she could, the reincarnation would not have wanted to. The reincarnation had felt furious, back then, when she thought of Talia. Her mother who refused to protect her. Her mother, who claimed she loved her but refused to see the chains Ra’s wrapped around her neck. She who plied the reincarnation with a supportive hand but forced her into the fighting pits.
But, as the reincarnation stumbled out on bruised and used legs from Ra’s al Ghul’s meeting chambers where he had allowed his business partners to partake in her, she realized that Ra’s was a monster in a human’s body and her mother was a victim of his making.
The lesson Ra’s taught her that day was that if she was not useful, if she did not kill, he would take what was left of her and make use of her.
Hate flared in her heart, and the beginning of Ra’s downfall began the day he let her go from the chambers alive. Injured, but alive. Injured and violated, but alive and furious.
——
She carved her hate and rage and helplessness and fear in the bodies of the people he bid her to kill. Her silenced screams were expressed in the way she splattered blood, the way she covered herself in it. A killing machine first, a stress reliever second, and a child… wasn’t on the list of things she was allowed to be.
His enemies were felled, one after another. He gave her his approval, something she detested.
But still, she continued, bodies racking upwards, tens turning to hundreds, hundreds edging into thousands.
The red in her ledger became ichor and guilt. Her language became violence and obedience.
“You have become a sharp tool, granddaughter.”
She was a genius, after all. And now, she could not disobey. A blade that Ra’s believed will never point towards him. She kneeled. She obeyed.
“Thank you, grandfather.” Her words were only allowed to come out- without searing, terrible pain- when she was thanking him. She tried not to do it as often as he wanted. He thought he broke her when he read the obedience she carved into her body language.
But she never bowed. Never. Not to him. Never.
——
“My weapon could learn much from your granddaughter,” David Cain sat across from Ra’s, wine in their stupid goblets. How she detested the green and blacks he’s seen fit to dress her with. She’s dressed provocatively, not of her own choice. She doesn’t have much of those- doesn’t have much in ways of choices- these days.
She was twelve, and Ra’s al Ghul deserved to die.
“Her combat is a higher form of what my daughter has achieved. How did you do it?”
When Ra’s began to reply, she slipped away.
She found the girl. She found… the cage- the black box- the child was placed in. The child flinched from her when she opened the metal box, fear only easing as the reincarnation kept her body language neutral and kind. (It was pitch black, and about the size of like, a closet. No light. Only from whatever door the box had.) (Cass’ hands hurt from banging on the walls to be let out)
David Cain’s daughter, her mind whispered, the memories of another life once more making itself known.
“Cassandra.” She whispered, regretting it immediately when pain wracked her body. She fell to her knees as the punishment for disobeying an order slammed into her.
The girl looked at her in concern, but did not move closer. The reincarnation stared at this girl and saw a reflection of herself.
David Cain would be here for a month. She will free Cassandra in those days.
——
The weapon stared at the girl in front of her, kneeling in pain.
She did not understand.
-
The girl came back. Water. Food. Kind.
The weapon felt warm. The girl was quiet. No sounds. Good. The weapon knew the girl understood. The weapon thinks that the girl is a weapon too.
-
The girl comes back, again. This time, she makes a sound. It hurt her, but she did it again. The weapon understands when the girl points at herself and repeats the sound. The sound means the girl. The girl expects something from the weapon.
The weapon makes the sound, flinching to see if the owner will come to punish it. The girl purposefully sits, relaxed but vigilant… and protective. Of the weapon?
The weapon relaxed. It repeated the sound, pointing at the girl.
The girl smiles, in pain. But approval. The weapon feels- the weapon is warm, like under the blanket. Approval.
The girl teaches her to make sounds but the weapon communicates without it. It does not like the sounds, does not need them, but the girl seems to think it’s important.
The weapon likes the girl, so the weapon learns. They still understand through no sounds, through reading each other.
-
The girl comes back, silently. Secretly. The weapon does not notify the owner. The weapon feels- does not want to.
The girl- the girl with the sound- she says a different sound. Her body tells the weapon that it’s important, this sound.
And when the girl points at herself and says her own sound, then points at the weapon and says that new sound again, the weapon begins to understand.
The girl had given the weapon her own sound.
“Cass—n- ra.”
“Cass,” the girl said, and Cassandra understood.
“Cass.” Cassandra pointed to herself.
-
The owner wanted- wanted Cassandra to end a life. Cassandra watched the owner kill and gesture to the dead thing.
Cassandra did not want to.
When Cassandra is placed back into the pitch black box, she waited for the girl.
The girl came.
“Don’t want.” Cassandra clung to her, reading the welcome and the sadness in the girl’s body. Cassandra tucked her face into the girl’s shoulder. She is cold. The girl is warm.
The girl hugged her back. The girl understood. Sadness hardened into lines of determination. Cassandra felt… light. Felt hope.
-
Cassandra slipped away from the place, water in her pack for the dessert and money to run from the country. The girl stayed behind, seeing her off. The girl tells her to never come back.
Cassandra did not want to leave the girl behind, but the girl could not go.
“Be free, Cass.” The girl had whispered through the pain. “For the both of us.”
——
Her grandfather knew. He allowed David Cain to break her, not kill because she was of use to him still, as a lesson. She found that she hated his lessons. But, she hated his attention more.
And still, she could not regret. How could she, when Cass trusted her with what fragile hope she had?
So, she lets him beat her, and provokes him with smirks and fearless eyes because the longer he’s focused on her, the more time Cass has to run.
Then, he gets too angry, and insults Ra’s, whose eyes grew cold. Her grandfather gestured and while she usually hated the command that followed that gesture, she could not feel that hatred now.
She got back up, legs broken and arms twisted once more, and attacked David Cain.
Ra’s would not follow Cass. Not when she was not his business to deal with, and not when David Carin’s fury amused him so.
David Cain would not follow Cass. Not while she still drew breath. The reincarnation stood, and threw herself at one of the best assassins of the century.
She tore his throat out with nothing but her teeth. She felt, for once, not like a monster. Not even when Ra’s nodded in approval and ordered for David Cain’s broken body to be cleaned up.
——
She’s been granted a mission in New Jersey, once her months of discipline- of torture- ended. She does not get ordered to find Cassandra. She’s fourteen now, and as silent as ever. Her mother had adjusted to her silence by then- long ago, actually, taking it as a quirk her daughter had developed. She hadn’t been a terribly vocal child, after all. Talia praised her for being useful even as a woman- the self degradation something the reincarnation had no doubt Ra’s had insidiously trained into Talia- and for being loyal to Ra’s.
Sometimes, she hates Talia for being- for-
Never mind. She couldn’t afford to hate anyone else.
She killed her targets early, determination and wistfulness urging her movements into sharp . Then, she made her way to Gotham and slipped into the city of darkness- where her father was.
She watched as he hid in the shadows almost as easily as she did. She watched as he flew and glided with the younger Robin. (He was younger than her by a year. She checked.) He was free. They were free.
She wished…
As she turned away, she saw a child tumbling from the edge of a roof. It was an instinct she’d thought Ra’s had managed to bury after the months he’d spent making sure she killed only children.
She hated him.
She caught him, swooping in and tucking him against her side as she plucked him from the air and plopped him back onto the crumbling roof of Gotham’s slums.
“Oh, thank you! So much- are you a vigilante?” The boy asked, looking at her masked face. It’s a good thing she wasn’t exactly dressed like a regular League operative.
She shook her head. Her eyes fell onto his camera, faint memories rising once more. She had an inkling-
“I’m- uh- Tim!” The boy introduced himself nervously, edging away from her silence. “Thank you for saving me…?”
She nodded. She pointed to the camera, tilting her head.
“Oh- you… want to see it?” He clutched his camera closer. Oh, he did have some sense of self preservation. She wondered why a seven year old was allowed to roam these streets… but she did worse at seven.
She held her hand up and back up. The boy hesitated, and then showed her the camera. “Uh- I took pictures of Robin and Batman!”
They sat on that roof for hours, and she let Tim Drake tell her stories about her father and his son. Ward. Son.
She could tell that Tim didn’t have anyone to listen to him.
She didn’t have long until she had to go back or risk severe punishment, but… she could make time for Tim, to listen to him.
She wondered if Cass managed to escape completely. She wondered if her sister all but in name and blood learned how to smile.
——
Tim had never had a friend before!
She listened to him! And gave him hugs the one time he was brave enough to ask! And she seemed to like Batman and Robin as much as he did! No one who didn’t like them would listen to his endless rambling otherwise, right? (Tim was super skinny, like ribs poking out skinny. He looked like a sickly Victorian child and he was kind of cold)
“And then, Robin went like this,” he pantomimed the awesome punch Dick Grayson did on a Joker goon. “And the guys got knocked out just like that!”
His new friend nodded, looking interested.
“Sorry, am I talking too much?” Tim asked anxiously. He didn’t want to make his friend hate him!
She shook her head, and gestured for him to continue.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded.
His new friend was so cool! She even taught him how to throw a punch and to fight!
——
When she had to leave, she prepared Tim for it.
“Do you have to go?”
She nodded and placed a hand on his head, ruffling his hair. Her other hand held a duffle bag with an assortment of weapons she carefully kept from him. (One of the blades still had guts on it, which, ew.)
“Try not to fall off anymore roofs, little photographer.” She said, smiling at his shocked look before leaping away.
“Wait, you can talk?!” He shouted at her back. She smiled a little wider.
——
“A son, this time.” Ra’s al Ghul’s voice echoed in his disgustingly flashy throne room. It rings of approval.
The reincarnation stood behind her mother, eyes cast downwards.
“Well done, Talia. I finally have a worthy heir.”
Damian al Ghul cooed.
The reincarnation was scared. But… she could not allow her younger brother to be trapped like she was. She’s fifteen now, a decade of slavery having worn her down and nearly broken her. But with her brother… no, she could not allow it.
She met her mother’s eyes and knew then that they agreed. Protect Damian, at all costs.
She ignored the sting of envy. So what her mother could not find it in herself to protect her daughter? So long as she protected Damian, it didn’t matter.
Maybe she didn’t matter. Maybe she wasn’t worth anything. Maybe- maybe- maybe.
She also ignored the seed of disgust she had for mother’s actions in conceiving Damian. She couldn’t do anything about it. Talia was also a victim.
A louder voice in her asked if she could really excuse that, when Talia had a choice and she chose to hurt and violate Bruce Wayne like that. She wondered if she could truly ever forgive Talia. She wondered if Bruce Wayne got therapy.
——
She stared at the tome in front of her, eyes blank. (Actually, she had no eyes. Like? Empty sockets, but then later she had eyes???)
The brand- the shackles- the chains could only be broken if Ra’s died. She wasn’t opposed to that. But if he died, so did she. She couldn’t even kill herself to get out, because the chains would be there even if she died. If she was revived- a high chance, thanks to the fucking pits- then the chains would still be there.
Perhaps… she could use the pits?
Her mind turned and turned.
——
“This is your ukht.” Her mother pointed at her. Damian stared up at her, and she melted. Her brother was too damn cute.
“Ukhti?”
She nodded as her mother smiled in joy. “Yes, habibi.”
She was better at hiding the pain, now. She was better at enduring it, too, that fucking burning feeling. She spoke more, but only to Damian.
It would not do for her brother to grow up not knowing how to receive verbal expressions of affection. Not like she did, in this life.
Still, it hurt to speak. But then, she had an idea, based on Cassandra.
She could not speak, but speaking wasn’t the only way of communication. She’ll teach Damian sign language- standard, as commanded- but also her own version. Yes, she could do it. It wouldn’t be hard.
She was a genius, after all, and creating languages wasn’t as hard as people seem to think.
——
Damian copied her, small fingers patting his hand four times.
She did it back to him. “I love you.” She tells him, with sounds and with motions.
He does it back, excitedly, because he had a secret with ukhti!
——
Sometimes, she dared not to touch Damian. She wants to ruffle his hair and give him hugs but the ichor on her hands reminds her to not get to greedy. She did not deserve it.
Not when her hands were stained with the lives of so many people.
——
Another mission.
She was twenty now, and not much closer to escaping her bonds. Though, once she hit her majority, Ra’s lost interest in her in that way. A blessing, even if she had to seduce his “business partners” into giving him better deals more often now.
She stops by Bludhaven. The Robin she watched so many years ago- six, by her count- had grown new wings and moved. She wanted to see if he could fly still.
He could. He flew as free- no, freer than his days as Robin.
She dipped away to complete her mission (nuclear weapon trading, really?) and swings back to see a spider trying to break the former Robin’s wings.
“No.” Nightwing whispered, staring upwards at the cloudy sky blankly. “Please, stop.”
She didn’t need to hear any more. She saw red, and dove feet first straight onto the spider’s head, knocking her out.
She picked up a near-catatonic Nightwing, and helped him to his apartment. She left Tarantula in the rain and felt zero guilt about it.
He changed mechanically, some kind of instinct keeping him from removing his domino, but it was a bit pointless considering she escorted him to his personal apartment.
She watched as Nightwing slipped into an exhausted sleep before leaving. She had a spider to squish, and traces to hide.
——
Dick wakes up, drained and exhausted. He… someone saved him.
He sees a scrawled note, handwriting impeccable enough to be a font, written with his pen. He picked it up from his table, and his eyes tiredly read the message.
“Don’t worry about Tarantula. Or your identity.”- A friend.
He remembered- the mask- the mask of the stranger that saved him vividly. He’d remember. And he’d thank them if they ever came back.
——
She was in charge of training assassins, these days. A year and a half later after Bludhaven, she was back in Nanda Parbat, and she’s devoured every magical tome she could get her hands on. They all say the same things.
Her assassins were trained well, and Ra’s praises her with more responsibilities as he followed the pit in his obsessions. Her mother began to splinter the group, not knowing that as Ra’s began his descent into madness, people looked towards her instead of Talia for leadership. They did not know that her unwavering presence by Ra’s side wasn’t voluntary but it is their true that she became his right hand out of pure skill. And flawless obedience, of course.
Then, someone new joins.
Someone with pit rage and empty eyes that goes rigid when she approaches.
Then again, most of the operatives freeze up when she walks towards them.
Her memories roar. A child.
He bowed, and her eyes followed the streak of white hair at the forefront of his skull.
She gestured at him to follow, and ignored the pitiful eyes the rest of the assassins gave to the kid- they act like her training was hard when she went easy on them (it was)- and led the kid towards the training rooms.
She knew who he was, even if her grandfather and mother didn’t think she knew.
Her… Bruce Wayne would probably appreciate his son being returned relatively sane.
But first, she had to beat the Pit out of him. Then, she could assign body guarding duties to him, in an attempt to protect him.
——
“Grandfather, I will take Damian’s punishment.”
“A whipping girl, granddaughter?” But he nodded anyways. He made Damian watch.
She kneeled and allowed the punishment. She couldn’t always protect him from Ra’s, but this she could do anytime. It’s not like she was unfamiliar with the torture. (The whip had barbs. Rusty. And they sprinkled salt.)
——
“I liked poetry….” Jason Todd tells her after a training session. “I think.”
“Sure. I’ll call you Grave, then.” Pain. But she was used to it.
He tilted his head, eyes going blank once more. She sighed. There went his memories again. (His eyes were blank and glazed. Like looking at someone you love and knowing they’re looking through you.)
——
“I would not trust her,” she says to the air, next to a Red Hood emerging from Talia al Ghul’s chambers. She could see it, the beginnings of Gotham’s new crime lord. But still, “Talia al Ghul is known for her lies.”
She pushed away from the wall. It was up to Grave if he listened. It was out of her hands now.
——
She’s twenty-five, and she’s helping Damian pack for his first meeting with Bruce Wayne.
“You must not tell him about me.” Because he’d come rushing here, and she had worked too hard to save Damian for her fool of a father to come and ruin all of that effort.
“I promise.” Her little brother said solemnly. Ukhti said it out loud, which meant it was important and she expected him to keep that promise.
The only other time he’d heard her speak was to tell him she loved him.
The reincarnation smiled and told him through their special sign language, to treat the current Robin with respect and to try his best to get the current Robin to pass down his title.
‘Robin is earned. They have different rules, over there. Try your best to learn those rules.’
Her brother was sheltered. She loved him, but he was spoilt and sheltered. Of course she was worried. Talia barely mothered him.
“I know. You do not have to remind me so often, ukhti.”
She smiled, and patted his head.
“Be safe,” she whispered. “I will miss you.”
Damian darted in for a hug. “Of course. Goodbye, sister. See you soon.”
She hoped not. It was hard enough to convince Ra’s that Damian would learn more under Bruce Wayne.
(She was locked in a small closet- like Cass- for about a week, because she brought up the idea first.)
——
She found it.
The answer to pit rage laid in an old, all but crumbling tome from Atlantis- answers “from a ghost.”
——
Bruce Wayne died. Months after Damian came to live with him. That- irritating- she sighed and worked with her mother to turn Ra’s al Ghul’s attention away from Gotham, lest he called Damian back in Bruce Wayne’s absence.
The little photographer caught grandfather’s attention. She stood vigil as he played chess with Ra’s. His interest in Damian wavered. Anticipation blurred in her veins.
She saved his friends. Her assassins. She let them go, telling them to wait for the little photographer’s plan. (Y’all miss girl had fucking bloody handprints on her pants like someone tried to grab it.)
The first few people who had an inking she might not be loyal to Ra’s… and it was them.
When her other assassins attacked Red Robin, she cut them down before they could touch him, helping him with a furious League of Spiders or whatever operative. She hated spiders.
“What…?”
“You’re a lot of trouble, little photographer.” She sighed. His jaw dropped.
“It’s you!”
“Go,” she cut him off. “Blow this place up. I left a surprise for you outside.”
——
“Owens?! Z?!” Tim trembled, exhaustion and shock and wonder hitting him at once.
“Heya, boss!” Z chirped. Owens helped Tim up while Z helped Tam. Pry walked around them, looking out for further threats. “The nightmare trainer let us go. She knew you, I think.”
Tim smiles, all shark teeth and zero hero. (In the background, the song zero to hero from Hercules 2, played in reverse.) “Tell me more.”
——
Damian grunted, bracing himself for the magical creature’s attack.
“Robin!” His father barked out, panicked. Damian hoped he’d survive-
Shhhlk!
He looked up and there stood his ukht. She bounded forwards, using the odd fauna of the magical plane to bolster her movements as she sliced the creatures apart with her swords, magic humming brightly as she cut through them… and the magicians attacking them.
“What- what are you doing here?” He asked. She greeted him, three fingers curled over her shoulder.
‘My question is,’ she signed. ‘Why were you here without a magical weapon.’
Damian sighed as father stepped in between them.
“Who are you.”
“Batman. Cease your excessive worry. I trust her with my life,” Damian snapped. He stepped around a shocked Batman, looked him in the eyes, and unsheathed his katana. He handed it over to his ukht, who took it with amusement.
‘See?’ His eyes seemed to say. Father tensed when his sister unsheathed her own blade and handed it to him.
‘Are you here for a specific reason?’ His sister signed to him.
“Uh, you gonna introduce us, little man?”
Damian sent the Flash a derisive look and ignored him.
“We’re looking for a magician. He set a squadron of demons loose into D.C. last night. He has a tower.” Damian added.
“Robin,” Father growled. “Who is this.” Damian shot him a look and turned back to his sister.
The reincarnation tilted her head. ‘Tower… it’ll have to be that way.’
“Could you take us there?” Damian asked. Truthfully, he could find the way himself. But he wanted more time around his ukht. She nodded and Damian straightened.
“I feel like we should be concerned that Robin’s friend just murdered a bunch of people.”
His sister glanced back and ignored them.
“Silence, incompetents. Speak another word against her, and Batman’s no killing rule will be applied creatively.” He hissed. (The fucking surroundings hissed with him y’all what the fuck)
He turned when his sister ruffled his hair (Superman muttered a super shocked “what the fuck.”) and Damian allowed it. He had missed his sister.
——
183 notes · View notes
grimm-writings · 3 days
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hi hi it's bard anon again :) i was rereading the manga and remembered that chilchuck's nightmares would be about losing his daughters... could you write about reader going into his dream (like laios did for marcille) and helping him through it? maybe also promising to keep his secret, asking if he's still married, etc. hehe
aisling
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…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader
…tags! hurt/comfort, reader is not a half-foot, some descriptions of gore and body horror, CHILCHUCK PSYCHOANALYSIS 🔥 
…wc! 1773
…notes! grimm lore drop, i’m irish! thus the title of this fic is after the as gaeilge word for ‘dream’. enjoooooy <3
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You repeat Laios’ instructions in your head as you try to drift off.  Chilchuck’s body is a bit small to make much of a pillow, but at least his warmth distracts you from the worried stares of your peers.
“You probably have to fight through your own nightmare to get to him!”  Laios keeps reassuring you.  “So be on guard!  Remember what I told y–”
“They get it, Laios!” Marcille yanks the tall-man away from where you’re struggling to drift off.  His barrage of information is in good faith, but it isn’t exactly the best white noise to fall asleep to.
Eventually, you find yourself in your dreamscape.  Quickly, quickly, you let your mind run with ideas of how to ‘dig down’ as Laios described it.  Chilchuck is resting underneath you, so the only way to go was in fact down.
The question is… how?
It took a lot of quick-thinking in order to bypass your own personal insecurities (you don’t have the time to dwell on them– Chilchuck is in trouble!) but eventually you imagined a jackhammer drill to make your way down.  You had to admit it wasn’t the most efficient, but it was the first thing you could come up with!
When you land and face another injury on your backside again, you groan, hoping the effects of the nightmare meant your pain wouldn’t carry over into the real world.
You look up, surprised to find yourself in what looks like a cottage.  It would be rather cosy-looking if not for the torn wallpaper, axe thrown into the wall, and blood splattered all over the place.  You could even hear despairing wails of crying echoing through the place…
Hang on.  You try to prick up your ears.  No, it doesn’t sound too distant at all.  You try to navigate your way through the place that was once a loving home.  You take notice of your size in comparison to the door frames and furniture– you’re way too large in comparison.  This is a home of a half-foot.
Was a home of a half-foot you know very well, you realise with your blood running cold.  Entering the next room you found Chilchuck.  He’s on his knees, hands being held in the air and shaking in a way you’ve never seen him before.  He’s horrified.  Over his lap are the heads of three girls, all brutally mutilated and bloodied in ways that made you feel ill.  One girl looks nearly identical to Chilchuck.
You have a suspicion of what’s going on.
What you have to do is protect Chilchuck from the emotional scarring of the nightmare.  How can you do that, when he already has the blood of three people– likely loved ones– on his hands?  You can hear him whispering “why me?” over and over in the shakiest whimper before he chokes mid-sob.
Creeping over without a sound proves difficult as the door creaks loudly.  Chilchuck immediately stops his crying and freezes as he looks up at you.
‘Be encouraging,’ Laios’ words echo in your mind, ‘encourage him to overcome his fear the nightmares are exploiting.’
Easier said than done, as you can hear another presence approaching.  Your footstep must have alerted it.  Chilchuck rises to his feet.
“It’s coming,” he tells you, trying to keep his voice firm and grounded, “but don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”
…Oh!  Looks like he’s already well underway trying to fight back against the nightmare!  This will be easy!  You were so chuffed, you almost forgot that usually you aren’t supposed to be recognised in dreams.
Still, you watch as Chilchuck limps to stand in front of you.  He looks… smaller than usual.  Odd.
You tug on Chilchuck’s tunic with an appreciative grin.  “You’re so brave, Chil.  I know you can defeat the intruder!”
“...Yeah.  It’s my job to get you outta this mess, huh?”
An odd thing to say, but you agree nevertheless.  Encourage, encourage, encourage.  “You’ll get us out of here in no time,” you whisper to Chilchuck, rubbing the fabric of his tunic reassuringly.  “I have faith in you.”
He shifts under your touch as you say this.
You glance over at the limp bodies of the three girls.  You wonder what had gotten them so grievously injured.  Their wounds look non-existent save for splashes of blood on their clothes and red running from their lips.  Chilchuck has already been a bit queasy towards gore.  Maybe imagining anything too excessive would be too much for him.
Then, ‘it’ arrives.
It was a twisted amalgamation of flesh and bone.  Its jaw is unhinged, what could either be blood-red lipstick or the bodily fluid itself running from you think are its lips.  Its hair was dark and matted.  It’s just barely shorter than Chilchuck himself, you notice.  It’s like an uncannily recreated half-foot woman.
When it sees Chilchuck, it screams in a woman’s voice, something about how ‘it’s supposed to be date night.’ 
It ran away at the very sight of him.  At the sight of him with you.
What could that mean…?
Once it leaves, Chilchuck collapses again.  He looks up at you, his eyes big and full of terror.  “Is the party okay?  Where are they?!  I need– I need to make sure they don’t–”
He begins crawling over to the door.  The party?  They’re… here?  No, this is probably another aspect of his nightmare.  These girls are here, either dead when he found them, or he watched them get hurt.
Either way, he was too late.
Cogs began to turn.  Could Chilchuck be afraid of… not being able to protect his loved ones from harm?  The cottage was basically turned into a slaughterhouse.  As for the monster…
“Who’s that woman?” you ask.
“I– I think it’s supposed to be my wife,” he explains rather easily.  Maybe the dreams encourage such honesty.  “But it isn’t.  I know it isn’t.  None of this makes sense…”
…His wife? 
No, no, not the time…  Later.
“That’s because it’s a nightmare, Chil…” you try to explain.  “You have to face your fear.”
“My fear?!”  Chilchuck turns to glare at you.  “Sorry for being so naive, but my ‘fear’ is out of my control!  If I’m here, there’s a chance no one will get hurt.  I–I just need to find the rest of you.  I can’t let you be taken away from me because I was being stupid.”
You grab Chilchuck’s wrist to prevent him from limping away into the cottage’s halls.  “Why don’t you… talk to it– I mean, your wife?”
He freezes.  He turns back at you, his glare making his eyebags look heavier.  “Are you insane?”
“She’s your wife.”
Chilchuck swallows.  His wrist slips from your grip so he could intertwine his fingers with you instead.  “There’s too many things I know she’ll ask from me.”
“Like?”
“Like…  Why don’t I come home more often?  Do I love her anymore?”
You squeeze Chilchuck’s hand, rising to your feet.  “Do you?”
“I do.”  He doesn’t hesitate to answer.
“Then tell her.”
Chilchuck deliberates on this for a moment.  He then looks up at you.
“Stay with me,” he requests in the quietest voice, “stay with me as I talk to her.”
Though his words made your chest feel weird, you shake your head.  “This is your job as a husband.  Not anyone else’s.  You can’t protect everyone forever, not even yourself.  Running won’t solve anything.”
Chilchuck is quiet for a few seconds, taking in your words.  He then slowly nods.  “At least walk with me over there.”
“Now that I can do,” you return with a smile.
The floors creak underneath your feet as you journey through the halls.  You can see in the corners of your eye, in the kitchen, a certain dwarf bloodied and kneeling over the sink.  You recognise the body of a spindly tuxedo cat with her arm hanging as she lays on the rafters.  She’s the source of the dripping red onto your clothes.
“I couldn’t protect them, trying to be everywhere at once,” Chilchuck murmurs as you come across an elf strangled with her own hair.
Your eyes lay on the woman feeding on the remains of a tallman and squeeze Chilchuck’s hand.
“It’s okay.  Just talk to her.”
He looks up at you, and you nod.  Chilchuck smiles slightly, and you can see a bit of that spark in his eyes again.  “It… really is a dream that you’re here, y’know?”
You return the smile, and move away.  You’re just out of the room when you hear Chilchuck take a breath and say, “so how about that date night, my love?”
As you walk away, you notice that from the room you left, light seems to be seeping through.  Before you know it, it envelops you.
Suddenly, you’re awake in the dungeon again.  When Laios awoke after saving Marcille, it was very sudden and unpleasant.  Yet this… this was calm, and you feel all fuzzy…
…Oh, but if you could only remember what had happened.  The images are blurry in your mind.  You do remember one thing, at least—
“You’re awake!”  Marcille’s voice is the first to grab your attention, helping you sit up.  “That’s a good sign!”
Laios is there behind you.  “And here’s Chil.  How ya doin’, buddy?”
“Shut it,” Chilchuck’s groggy morning voice is the most relieving thing to hear right now.  Seems you were successful in your mission, even if you can’t remember most of it.
Laios whines a little.  “Don’t be like that!  You had nightmares!  And your hero is right here!”
As Chilchuck sits up and turns to look at you in surprise, you wave back sheepishly.  Laios takes the opportunity to take Chilchuck’s pillow and get rid of the clam-like monsters.
“Oh,” Chilchuck responds with a few blinks.  “I was wondering why my dream was nicer than usual.”
“Oooh, what didja dream about?” Marcille asks nosily.  As she leans her face in, Chilchuck furrows his brow and pushes her away, claiming it’s none of her business.
The answer would be given soon when Senshi takes the opportunity to boil the nightmares.  A cottage scene, and there Chilchuck was, laughing and smiling as he has a candlelit dinner with…
You?
“Enough, enough, enough!” Chilchuck was quick to try and push the pot lid down over the clams in embarrassment.
What?  That’s not how you remember things going.  You squint.  “But I thought you had a…”  You look over at Chilchuck trying to fight back against the questions and accusations being thrown at him from all sides.  
You can’t help but smile a little, flushing a bit pink.  You can keep a secret.
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fire-lizard-ro · 3 days
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Ah yes. I've come to inquire about a certain blond fellow with the pretty eyes. Aventurine
So here's my bit. Reader is going through a break up with Aventurine and then they make up. I'm writing this while attention (females perspective)is playing in my mind. Maybe you could like incorporate it into the ask. Because I'm thinking in a way that the reader is trying to get Aventurines attention whilst keeping him at a distance. Sor of cat and mouse. And he's buying into it though he's much prefer without the sneakiness.
Also I hope this asks finds you in good spirits and a joyful mood. Caio.
Okay, okay- I have no clue what attention is. A song? I’m not good at this game help-
Anyways I will try my best.
Thank you sm for the ask. 🫶
I really do love this twinky little blond man and I’m happy to be writing about him.
It’s like two in the morning rn and I’m rambling here to distract myself from things. ANY!!! WAYS!!!
No gender is mentioned for the reader.
CW: exactly one (1) 2.1 spoiler (Aventurine’s real name- It’s at the very end), break up-make up time, mild angst bc ofc there is it’s Aventurine, hurt/comfort, happy ending hehe 🫶
Writing under the cut (SFW):
You couldn’t help but smile as you saw a certain someone’s nickname flashing across your screen. Right on time.
Though you supposed he knew what you were doing. After all, Aventurine is smart. Even if he didn’t realize it right away, he had to know by now.
You picked up the phone.
“Well hello, stranger. To what do I owe the honor?” It was hard to keep the sly lilt and inflection out of your voice when you knew he was definitely gripping his phone tightly on the other end of the line.
“I’m sure you know, dear. You’re slick but not that slick. You’ll have to do better than that to outplay me,” Aventurine said, his voice still fixed in that unhurried cadence and unbothered tone like usual despite the situation.
You rested your cheek on a hand and leaned back in your seat with a smile. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. In any case, it’s a bit odd of you to call me. After all, we did break up. You remember that, I’m sure.”
You could practically hear the leather of his gloves crunching (is it crunching I forgot-) as he clenched a fist, keeping hold of his restraint.
The two of you had been dancing around each other like cat and mouse. Though at this point, who was the cat and who was the mouse was anyone’s guess.
Despite having gotten to the point of breaking up, you ended up missing him a lot. And thus you began the dance only to find his hand already waiting for you. It was unspoken that you both wanted the same thing. But every time he drew closer, you’d pull back. A frustrating back and forth that seemed to confuse him. Aventurine was sure you wanted him back. And yet you never let the cat finally catch his prey. Why? He didn’t get it.
“Oh sweetheart- Let’s not keep pretending, yes? I know you’ve been trying to catch my attention. You can’t hide your intentions.”
“Seems it’s working, then.”
It was true. You had been doing things to keep Aventurine’s eyes on you. Despite playing a game of keep away with him with how you’d draw him in and push him away, you didn’t want him looking at anyone else. At the same time, you weren’t sure if you’d truly be willing to get together again. What if the train went off the tracks again? The first time had been rough enough with the two of you waging a passive aggressive war and pointedly ignoring each other at some points.
And thus, this odd little game of yours. One that Aventurine was growing tired of it he had finally called you.
“Let’s talk in person, shall we?” “What-?”
A knock at the door. No fucking way- You opened the door to see your favorite the blond man himself.
“Hiya, darling dearest~”
“Aventurine.”
“No need to be like that. I was serious about that talk.” He then pulled a bouquet of your favorite flowers out from behind his back. “For you,” Aventurine said with that stupid charming smirk of his. You squinted at him for a moment before accepting the flowers with a huff and a faux annoyed, “Fine.”
You were a bit conflicted. You were excited that he was here. Especially because he seemed desperate enough to actually seek you out and talk to you in person. But at the same time this was not something you calculated or expected to happen.
“I know you’re glad to see me. You don’t have to pretend,” he practically purred as you shot a glare over your shoulder, still keeping up appearances. “Oh but of course- I’m absolutely just tickled pink.”
Aventurine chuckled, tipping his head down to look at you over his shades, lids low and eyes practically glowing. “You always did have a way with words, sweetheart.”
He then took off the sunglasses (and oh that was another stupid, dorky little thing about him you found oddly endearing- shades inside a building- stupid silly adorable man-) and plopped down on your couch while you put the flowers down on the counter in the kitchen. You’d deal with them later. For now you had him to deal with. You sat in the chair instead of the couch. He pouted playfully about it, but didn’t comment. “I’ll cut to the chase- I want you back. And I know you want me back, too. I just can’t figure out why you’re leading me closer and then shoving me away. I’m starting to get the feeling you just like my attention. But even so- We both know the truth. So why don’t you just give in, lovely? I know you want to,” he said, surprisingly not using the old song and dance of leading someone around to get the information he wanted. He didn’t talk in circles and didn’t even seem all that flirty despite his words. He was… oddly serious.
“And what about the reason we broke up before?” You didn’t even try to pretend anymore. Aventurine has always been able to see right through you. That ability had clearly not gone anywhere. “I can’t make promises, but we can talk. We’ll work something out. I’ll even compromise on it.” Compromise was not an Aventurine word. Any deals he made were made in his favor without the other person even knowing what they were going to lose. Your incredulity must have been showing on your face more than you thought because he laughed lightly, the sound somehow dry- tired and heavy. “I see that look. I’m serious, baby. I’m sorry I ever let you go. You’re the only one who stayed. The only one who has stuck around. I need you. I’ll give it all to you. My attention, my trust, my… my heart, even. You don’t have to play these games to make me want you.”
Now you feel a bit guilty. But at the same time, elated. Even before you broke up, he never once brought up matters of trust and love. He seemed far too uncomfortable even edging around the topic. But now Aventurine was the first one to bring it up.
You said nothing but silently stood. And his eyes dimmed, waiting for disappointment. But then you walked over and sat next to him, pulling him into a hug. “I missed you, Aven.”
He let out a shaky sigh and wrapped you up in his embrace, arms tight around you.
“Kakavasha.”
“What?”
“You should tell me, ‘I missed you, Kakavasha,’” he (Kakavasha?) said, his voice was shaky with emotion.
“I… I missed you, Kakavasha.”
“And I love you, sweetheart.”
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chuuyascumsock · 2 days
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OKAY JUST AN RANDOM THOUGHT BUT IMAGINE THIS FEM CHUUYA THE READER IS ALSO AN MEMBER IN THE PM AND IN THSI AU FEM DAZAI IS ALSO A MEMBER STILL SO SHE GETS PAIRED WITH DAZAI AND CHUUYA FOR A MISSION AND THE DAZAI AND TEH READER ARE FLIRTING CHUUYA GETS JEALOUS SEEING THIS I JUST IMAGINE CHUUYA FUCKING THE GUTS OF THE READER (yes this is very messy but I just wanted to share this I would love to hear your thoughts)
Dazai knows more than she lets on. Always. And that includes knowing when Chuuya has the fattest crush on you known to mankind (and vice versa). Dazai’s favorite past time is also pushing Chuuya’s buttons. This is a deadly combination.
Dazai is so cocky looking at Chuuya when you’re not looking at either of them because you’re focused on the mission (aside from when Dazai makes her flirty comments and you think they’re a joke so you flirt back, girl stuff, you know) and Chuuya is seething, at her wits end with Dazai.
The straw that breaks the camel’s back is when Dazai suggests you should come by and have a sleepover at her place because of how lonely she gets. It was the first time Chuuya has ever fucked up a mission completely by giving your positions away. It was barely salvageable with majority of the enemies getting away, Dazai is what saved your asses due to her taking one of them hostage for interrogating.
Of course after a ‘come to Jesus’ meeting with Mori, you were all sent out and Dazai leaves (of course not without a snide comment to Chuuya) but she doesn’t respond and is quiet for once. You’re not stupid, nor are you as dense as you like to pretend you are and you confront her on her outburst earlier.
Which leads to dicking you down into her soft mattress with her strap. You don’t remember how it exactly led to the situation, but you weren’t going to complain when she slams her hips down to the hilt of the silicone toy into your overstimulated pussy over and over again. You don’t even think you remember how many times you’ve came anymore.
“You think it’s funny to mess with me, huh? To get me riled up jus’ cause you know how much it pisses me off seeing that stupid mackerel flirt with what’s mine?” She growls with every thrust, pressing you down further into her mattress with her hand around your throat, blunt nails digging into your skin firmly. “You knew the whole time.”
You think you might just be swallowed whole by her soft duvet covers and fluffed pillows as your head spins, blissed out with pleasure and lack of air. You try to respond to her, but all that falls from your lips are soft “I’m sorry”s and drool that drips down your cheek. With your eyes focusing and unfocusing hazily, you feel your thighs twitch and weakly tighten around her hips, body threatening to crash over the edge with another orgasm for the nth time.
She snickers at your trembling body beneath her, bi-colored eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Yeah, bet you’re real sorry, princess. I’ll believe it when I fuck that dumb broad’s name out your pretty little mouth.”
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bad268 · 13 hours
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#~📝~ "Just Friends" + Oscar Piastri
Thanks anon from AO3 <3
POV: Third Person (She/her)
~
It was a long race week. Singapore was not a forgiving track, and all of the drivers felt it. Even as they sat on a couch post media and debriefs. Y/n and Oscar were sitting on the couch in someone’s hotel room. Their brains were too foggy to remember exactly whose it was. It was their post-race ritual, and some drivers who decided they wanted to hang out before flying out to the next race were not going to stand in their way.
Plus they had earned it! With Y/n’s maiden podium and Oscar scoring third, they deserved to chill on the couch as they pleased. They were currently sharing the couch with Max and Charles, and Y’n was sitting mostly on Oscar’s lap. She laid her head on Oscar’s shoulder after she finished her second drink and looked around at everyone in the room.
There was a show going on in the background as everyone drank from the collection of alcohol that Lando brought in, and they were mainly gossiping about random paddock tea. She remembers someone saying they were convinced that a fan was following them to every single race. 
“I’m telling you! I’ve seen them in the hotel as well!” George defended himself as he took a swig.
“I think you’re just paranoid,” Oscar laughed as he gestured for Y/n to grab him another drink. Without much hesitation, she did, so he responded with a joking, “Thank you, dear.”
“Why don’t we talk about you guys,” Lando changed the topic to the two who definitely looked like a couple. “Let’s be honest, no one believes that you two are just friends! ‘Just friends’ don’t sit on each other’s laps and call each other ‘dear’.”
“I don’t know what you want us to say-” Y/n tried to say, but the room erupted in protests.
“You are kidding me!”
“How are you both this blind?”
“There’s no way you don’t see the way he looks at you!”
“You guys have been pinning after each other since F3!”
“Woah, woah slow down,” Oscar caught everyone’s attention. It took a minute for them all to calm down, but when they did, they (Logan and Lando specifically) expected him to admit his feelings. “We never said we were just friends. If anyone asked, we would have told you that we’re engaged.”
~
Part of 1K Celly (Requests open)
© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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cleolinda · 3 days
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Weekend links, April 21, 2024
My posts
Initially I wrote, “I ran my mouth about the Watcher streaming/paywall situation because I make bad decisions,” but I think the post has actually gone over well? In short, I want to see them succeed but I am also deeply fuckin’ baffled. I so desperately want the tea about what was really going on behind all this, and how the guys are reacting to it now, and I really hope they can turn this around somehow. 
Side note, Friday was CHAOTIC. 
Reblogs of interest
The Hot Vintage Lady Polls are escalating in round four. We got to a point where I posted propaganda for Ava Gardner AND Dorothy Dandridge in their matchup. Probably the biggest scandal of round three was Vivien Leigh getting knocked out, but she’s now High Chancellor of the Shadow Realm. The most contentious matchup this time seems to be Judy Garland vs Natalie Wood, which is nearly 50/50 as of this writing. But keep your eye on Hedy Lamarr, who may have Mifune Sweep energy. 
(I think I love these brackets for the same reason I love Dracula Daily: it’s delightful that thousands of people on Tumblr actually have deeply-held opinions about things from many decades ago, and if they didn’t before, they do now.)
(“I’m Katharine Hepburn, and this is Jackass!”)
--
Happy Bread Day (Observed)!
Hozier Watch 2024: “Why Would You Be Loved” has arrived on the Wasteland, Baby! special edition. I like this post about how that song is in conversation with “No Plan,” one of my favorites. (I wrote about “Movement” a while ago, but I could have fully inflicted an essay on you about how “No Plan” pulled me out of my six years of hiding from the internet. Anyway, it’s a great album from a few years ago, check it out if you haven’t.) 
Generally I keep my mouth shut about Taylor Swift, but the new songs sure have some lyrics. I love Florence Welch, but I’m scared.
You’ve heard of spoon theory, now check out spell slot theory
“You’re either frolicking in this field with me, or...” is funny, but then you get to the reblog.
What if we lay in this field together and held feet
A deep breach of etiquette with a little dog named Gucio
A story about statue vandalism with a delightful twist
You gotta fight mint with mint (like I can bring in my lemon balm, but at what cost?) 
I saw this post about feeding wild skeletons on Pinterest and I loved it so much that I tracked down the original. 
Once again, Holy Shit, Two Cakes theory
Remember the haunted house I grew up in? Yeah, it had a carpeted bathroom like this.
“gonna start formatting my posts like fics on ff.net circa 2008” will do you exactly the psychic damage you’re imagining 
The Round Table attempts to use Zoom
Video
Lil Nas X covers “Jolene,” Dolly Parton loves it, and @oscar-wet-and-wilde has further Black Country recs
A big loud steppy
“He’s retrieving”
Crispy meows
Watching this angel of a Doberman get a full spa treatment is also self care
AND YOU DARE SAY NO MORE TREATS??!?
The sacred texts
I don’t like thing, now with artist credit 
Personal tags of the week
I love when I can use a really niche, specific tag, and this week, it’s mouth perfect size for meme, with a little shaped on the side.
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gojos-fr-bae · 3 days
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𝔚𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔇𝔬 𝔓𝔱. 2 (ℜ𝔢𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔡)
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Part 1, Part 2
Pairing: CEO!Gojo x Fem!Lawyer!Reader
Warnings: Cussing, Drinking, A slap (or punch, I don't rly remember) Toji in his boxers bc why tf not. only a tad bit of angst at the beginning, the rest is pretty chill, Not proofread (honestly, are we shocked)
Word Count: 1.7k
A/N:😌🤭🏃🏿‍♀️😍😎😋
Minors DNI
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You were seated outside with your boss who had long calmed down but still clutched your arm tight, his head still buried in the crook of your neck. You were sure that people were already questioning your disappearances and you were sure you would return to some distasteful rumors. First he saves you a seat next to him and then you both run off somewhere for almost half an hour. Fuck, this is not good.
“S-sir, I think we need to leave.” you murmured softly, not wanting to startle him in this fragile state.
He simply just hummed and nuzzled deeper into your neck.
“Mr. Gojo I’m being serious, please let go of me, we need to leave.” You stated, this time your voice is much firmer. 
Finally getting the hint, he pulled away from you, uttering a soft apology and  letting go of your hand as he stared down at the ground. Although his bangs were blocking his face slightly, you didn’t miss how dejected he looked. 
You were about to say something but got startled by the door leading inside opening abruptly. Your heart sank for a moment before looking up and noticed that the person who opened said door was Nanami, Gojo’s personal assistant. Even though you didn’t know him too well, from your interactions, he seemed nothing like his boss so you still held onto a string of hope for your reputation.
He looked at you and Satoru, his eyes traveling from you to Gojo before he sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“Miss,I’m so sorry for whatever it is that just happened, he’s probably just drunk.
“Oh, umm, yeah, it’s okay…i guess. I’m just going to head back inside if that’s fine.” You replied, getting up and quickly collecting your bag before heading for the door.
“Yes, of course, please, go ahead.” Nanami pointed towards the door and you couldn’t get out of there faster.
As you made your way to your seat, you didn’t miss the stares and whispers of everyone in the room. Great, just as you expected, everyone is probably making disgusting assumptions about you and at this point you wanted nothing more than to get home.
~
You sat on the island, hair in a mess and wine bottle in your hand while Toji worked at the stove, making you a grilled cheese. He was wearing nothing but his boxers and his body was covered in hickeys and scratch marks. To anyone else the scene may have seemed confusing yet for you, this was almost routine.
“And he wouldn’t let go? Toji asked, trying to wrap his mind around the story you had just told him about your awful night.
“YEAH, CAN YOU IMAGINE! I had to wait for his assistant to come bail me out and now everyone thinks I’m a slut who only got the job because I’m sleeping with the boss!!” You shouted in frustration before downing a big gulp of your wine.
“And what’s so wrong about that?” Toji asked, smirking at you while he slid you your sandwich. You just trolled your eyes at him. 
“Well unlike YOU, that’s not the type of image I want to uphold.”
“Yeah, whatever you say sweetheart. Anyway, you didn’t fuck him did you?”
“Ew, OF COURSE NOT!!”
“Then what are you so worried about, the rumors will die out. Everyone will forget about this shit after his next scandal so just hold out for like, a week or two.”
“Ugh, that’s easier said than done.”
“What's happened has happened princess, nothing we can do about that except move on, now is there?”
“I guess not,” You sighed.
“Exactly. So stop worrying your pretty little head over this.” He said before pressing a peck on your forehead and making his way to his room. “Don’t drink too much, you still have work tomorrow.”
You couldn’t do much but groan at the thought that you might have to see that man again. What the heck did you sign yourself up for?
~
You were sitting at your desk when the quiet  room suddenly filled with murmurs. You raised your head from the work you had buried it in to see what was causing such a stir. Your breathed hitched as you saw your boss, Gojo Satoru himself, walking up to you with a big fucking bouquet filled with a variety of flowers, half of which you had never seen in your entire life.
You tried to look away but your eyes had already met and you could only brace yourself for what was about to transpire.
Gojo walked over to your cubicle and gave you his signature blinding smile.
“Hey sweets, thanks so much for last night. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, as a matter of fact, I saw these through the shop window and couldn’t help but think it was meant for you,” a lie. Satoru had stood in the shop for hours painstakingly choosing all 162 flowers in that bouquet. But you didn’t need to know that. You reluctantly took the flowers from him, instantly regretting it when you heard everyone in the room gasp simultaneously. Oh shit. Why me! Why me! What did I do to deserve this! Those are all the phrases you were screaming in your head as Gojo leaned down to whisper in your ear.
“Also, come to my office at 1pm, okay?” His deep raspy voice said in a hushed tone, sending shivers down your spine. 
He then stood up straight and winked at you, before strutting out the room.
You immediately dropped the flowers on your desk and ran to the washroom and locked yourself in a stall. If you knew this job would come with so much bs you would’ve never taken it.
This isn’t like you. You really can’t be letting a man like him get under your skin.
Just then, you heard the washroom door swing open and heard two voices come in.
“Oh my gosh, did you see how that slut reacted when she saw Mr. Gojo walk in?” The first one quipped.
“Ugh, I know right, and did you hear what he said!? “Thank you for last night” I mean gosh!” replied the second.
“She probably only got the job from fucking him, did you hear that they’re paying her 50K!?”
“Girls these days! What kind of punch does she need to be packing under that ugly outfit of hers for her to seduce Mr. Gojo. I mean he’s WAY out of her league.”
“Mhm, it’s like seeing a literal god go out with a rat that was run over by a tricycle!”
They both began to cackle loudly and you finally snapped. You burst open the stall door and they turned around to face you in shock. They didn’t have time to process it though as you landed a harsh slap with all the force you could muster across their faces, walking out before they could even utter a word. Serves those bitches right.
You just went back to your desk and kept your head down, waiting until 1pm FINALLY but unfortunately arrived.
You slowly made your way to the top floor, before walking to his secretary’s desk. She looked up at you before speaking.
“He’s waiting for you, just go in,” she snarled, chewing her gum obnoxiously loud, her nails tapping away at her keyboard.
You just rolled your eyes at her before pushing the big office door open, closing it behind you and turning to face Gojo. He had his feet kicked up onto his huge desk, floor to ceiling windows making up the wall behind him, the bustling city of Tokyo laid out behind him.
He looked at you from behind his glasses, sirking cockily.
“So, you came,”
“Didn’t really have a choice considering everyone’s been treating me weird and like shit because they think we fucked.” you snapped at him.
“And what’s so bad about that?”
“Being treated like shit?” you questioned in disbelief.
“No, people thinking we’ve fucked. If anything, we probably should. Let’s give them something to REALLY talk about.” He replied, winking at you. The gall this man had.
“Sir, with all due respect, if that’s all you wanted to talk about then you are wasting my fucking time. I’ll just leave if-”
“No! No, don’t leave, that’s not what I asked you here for,” He said in a slightly panicked tone, standing up from his seat. “Look, I just wanted to, umm, thank you again for last night,” he said smoothly, regaining his suave persona.
“Were the flowers not enough because me, the rest of the employees and probably the whole world thought it was wayyyyy more than enough.” You replied in slight annoyance.
“What? No, of course not! Infact, I spent all day thinking of the best way to pay you back, and I finally got it.”
“And what may that be?”
“A shopping spree!!” he shouted, doing jazz hands at you.
“Sir, that is completely inappropriate and-”
“I’ll let you get whatever you want, no spending limit, it’s all on me” He cut you off, waving his AMEX in the air.
You wanted to say no, you wanted to say no so fucking bad. But your closet was in desperate need of a makeover, so was your bedroom, and your house. It was a golden opportunity, and no one in their right mind would say no.
“Fine, I’ll meet you at the mall at 6pm,”
“Oh no no no, that’s way too far away, come on, I already cleared you for the rest of the day, come on, let’s go!” he said in a chirpy voice. Skipping towards you, he grabbed your hand before dashing out of the room with you.
You were in for one heck of a day.
***
You were now in the basement parking of the building. Satoru slowly walked you to his reserved parking slot in which was parked a black, sleek mercedes. Your eyes widened at the sight and Gojo just smiled at your reaction, feeling his ego get boosted by tenfold.
“You like?” he asked, opening the passenger door and motioning for you to enter. You just ignored it, sitting in the car as he closed the door and ran around to the driver’s seat.
It felt so wrong. Not just the fact that it was you’re in your boss’ car, but the fact that it was a really expensive, really fancy car.
“So, are you ready to go?” Satoru asked, gazing at you.
“Sure. Why the fuck not!”
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Part 1, Part 2
© gojos-fr-bae
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fandomkaiju · 3 days
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Desk Duty
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Gale x Female Tav
Summary:
“As much as I don’t want to seem ungrateful,” Gale says, when they part for air. “I do have to wonder what the reason for this unexpected intrusion into my office is.” “Who says I have a reason? I don’t always have an ulterior motive, you know,” Tav replies, in a tone of voice that lets Gale know she absolutely has an ulterior motive. [chanting and banging fists on table] let gale get pegged!
Word Count:
Tags/Disclaimers/CWs:
18+ for smut, half-orc tav, sub!gale, femdom, light bdsm, spanking, pegging, established relationship
[AO3 Link]
-
The height difference between them is large enough that Gale has to bend his neck upwards at an awkward angle when Tav kisses him. Perhaps if it were anyone else — if Tav didn’t taste like peaches and whiskey and promise, if she didn’t know exactly how Gale liked to be touched and squeezed and held down — it would bother him. But it isn’t and she does and when Tav pushes Gale up against the wall, tugs at the roots of his hair just a little too roughly, and presses her leg between his thighs, everything is so perfect that he couldn’t give less of a shit about his neck pain.
“As much as I don’t want to seem ungrateful,” Gale says, when they part for air. “I do have to wonder what the reason for this unexpected intrusion into my office is.”
Tav’s eyes are deep brown, as beautiful as the smile that grows around her tusks, and warm as her breath on Gale’s skin when she speaks.
“Who says I have a reason? I don’t always have an ulterior motive, you know,” she replies, in a tone of voice that lets Gale know she absolutely has an ulterior motive.
And Gale is going to point that out, to come up with some kind of witty retort. But before he can will the words to his tongue, Tav’s thigh presses into him again, a firm, even pressure. Whatever words were gathering die in Gale’s throat, and instead what comes out is a low, half-swallowed moan.
The corners of Tav’s lips twitch with amusement. She tightens her grip around Gale’s hair, and from anyone else it’d be a little too much, a little too painful. But it’s not anyone else. It’s Tav. It’s her. And Gale can feel his cock hardening underneath his robes as she teases him.
“Sorry, you’ll need to say that one again for me, love. Try again. Using your words this time.”
Gale’s breath is heavy and his cheeks are flushed, and it takes all his willpower to stop his brain from going completely non-functional. The muscles of Tav’s arm tense and flex as she pulls him closer. When she leans down, her lips are inches away from Gale’s, so close that all he can think about is how much he wants to kiss her. 
“You are absolutely incorrigible.”
Tav makes a sound that’s somewhere between an amused hum and a purr. “I know. It’s why you married me, isn’t it?”
She leans forward to kiss him again. A floorboard creaks under the movement, and suddenly Gale remembers where they are, that his office in Blackstaff Academy smells of inkwells and aged papyrus, of the fire crackling in the corner and leather bindings.
“We do run a risk of eavesdropping, my love. A secret is a hard thing to keep, not least within these hallowed halls.”
He can’t hear anyone in the hallway outside, can’t make out even the slightest noise that suggests somebody might be on the other side of the door. But Gale was a student once, and while he had no time to take part in it himself, the gossip passed between dorm room beds under dim candlelight didn’t escape his notice. But Tav’s hand is strong when she cups it around the soft curve of his hip and squeezes, her breath warm against his lips when she speaks.
“Well, we’d best be quiet then.”
Gale is going to obey that order that isn’t quite an order. He likes to, likes to feel good and pliable and obedient, just for Tav. But the hand on his hips snakes it way to squeeze his ass sharply, and her teeth bite down on his bottom lip so hard that Gale thinks he might taste blood. He lets out a squeak, and he knows it must sound pathetic. But it must be the kind of pathetic that Tav loves, because she chuckles against his mouth. When she gently pulls him to one side, turns him until he’s facing his desk, and pushes him forward, he follows.
“I’ve missed this,” she whispers, voice low and husky. “Missed you. Gods, I know you do good work here, but…”
She trails off, and Gale is suddenly very aware of the way her voice sounds a little more gentle, her breathing a little heavier. 
“I always appreciate the letters,” he says, softly. “I read them all, over and over, for days at a time. However rustic the parchment or hastily scrawled the writing may be.”
There’s a creak of floorboards. Gale’s heart catches for a moment, wonders who might be outside or who might be listening. And then it catches again as Tav’s hand cups his face and covers his mouth to silence him. 
“There’ll be time for that later,” she begins, softness in her voice. “Right now, I want to show you something I bought in a magic shop hidden half-way down an alleyway in Neverwinter.”
The hand releases Gale’s mouth and he hears the sound of clothes being removed and buckles being fastened. And when he looks back at Tav over one shoulder.
“I…”, his tongue suddenly feels heavy in his mouth, too slow for all the thoughts that race through his head. Tav smiles, like she knows exactly what he’s thinking, and changes how she’s distributing her weight between her legs just enough that the harnessed toy between her legs bounces.
It’s long and slim, a marble of golds and blues that shimmers in the candlelight. Gale wants it, wants it inside him, wants Tav inside him so badly that he can’t think about anything else. And that’s before he notices the way it glows, the way the Weave itself glimmers and bends around it.
That’s before Tav adds, “Want to know the best part? I can feel it too. I’m going to be able to feel you around me, tight and warm and desperate to please me. I’m going to be able to feel you clench around me when you’re close, know how much I’ve worked you into a needy little mess.”
There’s a sharp, audible breath, and a moment later Gale realises it’s his.
“Tell me you want that. Tell me how much.”
And Gale wants that, wants it so much that right now he can’t think of anything else across all the Planes that he wants more. But his brain has stopped functioning, and even if he could think of the right words to explain, he’s not sure his body would be obedient enough to say them right.
So what he says instead is, “Please. Gods, please.”
Tav smiles, pushes Gale’s head so he’s face-against the desk again, and pulls his robes up. There’s a quiet voco arvina before Gale feels a slick finger pressing against his hole and then into it. It’s one to begin with and then two, and Gale can feel himself arching his hips back to give Tav more. 
“So eager,” Tav whispers. “Desperate to be good for me, are we darling?”
Gale doesn’t have time to answer before those fingers slide out of him and Tav’s harnessed cock slows pushes in to take their place. Both of his hands jump to clasp over his mouth, trying desperately to stop the flow of moans and whimpers and whines that Gale knows would come out if he let them. Tav’s hand grasps around his him, fingers digging into the soft, delicate skin, and when Gale hears a groan behind him he knows she’s inside him to the base.
The first few thrusts are a little clumsy, but Tav is a quick learner. She finds the rhythm of it, presses into Gale at exactly the right moment as he pushes back against her, grinds the rounded head of her toy against his prostate just right. Gale’s hands clasp around his mouth a little tighter with each thrust because he knows it’s only a matter of time until he can’t help himself, until Tav will fuck those sounds out of his throat whether he likes it or not.
He can hear Tav’s breathing behind him, heavy and deep and even without looking he knows her lips curling into the o-shape as she moans. The wooden desk is firm underneath Gale, so firm that it’s uncomfortable where it presses against his firm cock. But everything else about this — the scent of sweat in the air, the jingling of the metal buckles with each thrust, the tension he can feel pooling in his body — is so perfect that he doesn’t care.
“Fuck,” Tav says, and Gale realises with a jump in his heartbeat that her words are whined, moaned, said with almost as much desperation as his. “You feel so good. I love you. I’m going to come.”
Her whole body shakes when she comes, trembling thighs pressing into Gale’s, her breath a staccato. And gods, the fact he feels this good for her, that he and his body have managed to do this, that’s enough for Gale. He lets the hands clasped over his mouth go loose and limp.
“I love you,” he manages before his body jolts underneath Tav. He arches his back, body shuddering as he joins her in climax, and right now he can’t imagine a single thing in existence that could feel quite so good.
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cameronspecial · 4 hours
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how about we go a lil angsty? the reader hadn’t yet told him about her being pregnant bcs she remembers Drew once said he doesnt know if he wants to be a dad and so she tried to bring the topic up with hypothetical questions and his answers not exactly the thing she wanted to hear so she went all silent and pulled herself away and stuff.
I dont wanna give it away, so please you decide the ending..either they communicate and Dad!Rafe rise or…
I Want This
Pairing: Dad!Drew Starkey x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of Abortions and Miscommunication
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 1.2K
Masterlist
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Well… She doesn’t know what she expected the results to be, but this is definitely an answer. Y/N doesn’t even think she can focus on the opinion she has of this situation because all she can think about is Drew’s.
———
“Awww, Babe, look at this pic of Lils that Mac sent me,” he gushed, holding his phone up to his fiancée. She looked up from her laptop, “So cute. Ugh, I miss them so much. I mean look at those little baby rolls. I just want to cuddle the cutie.” He smiled and brought her head under the crook of his neck. “I know. We have to visit them soon. I’m so glad I have a niece. It means I can be the fun uncle forever and never have to be a dad,” he mindlessly thought out loud, going back to scrolling on his phone. This caused her to freeze; they never talked about having kids, but he was so good with them that she assumed he would want them. She should’ve asked him about it because she wanted them. She didn’t though. Kids were important to her and so was Drew. She wasn’t ready to cause a rift in their relationship because of something small. 
———
Staring at the positive pregnancy test, she has to figure out a way to gauge how he would feel about it before actually telling him the truth. Once she knows how he feels, it will help her decide how she wants to feel about it seeing that if they are on the opposite page, then she would have to make a difficult decision. She shoves the positive tests into the box and hides them in her makeup drawer. He never goes looking there. She exits the bathroom, lets out a deep breath, and heads to the kitchen to start getting lunch ready. Drew is coming home from filming in Morocco later today. The music blasting through the speakers makes her unaware of the new presence in the house. He smiles at the dancing silhouette cutting potatoes. His hand drops over her eyes and she sets the knife down with a grin. Her arms wrap around her neck to bring him down towards her. This allows her to pepper his face with kisses. “Hey, you weren’t supposed to be back until tonight,” she notices, turning the music off. His hand rests on her hip, “I was, but I was offered an early flight and I couldn’t say no to seeing my girl early. I missed you and I love you.” She sinks into his hold. “I missed and love you too.”
The couple spend the next half an hour cooking together before settling themselves at the dining room table. Since they talked to each other throughout cooking, silence falls over them. A chime comes from his phone and he checks it to see a text from his sister. “Mac is planning on coming down with Lils and my mom soon. They can stay in the guest room, right?” Drew confirms, reading over the text again. She nods, “Yeah, I’ll get it ready over the weekend and buy one of those travelling crib things for Lils. It is going to be fun to have a baby around the house. The guest room would make a nice baby room in the future. It has nice big windows and the closet is the perfect size.” The chuckle that comes out of his mouth drops her stomach into a furnace. 
“What’s so funny?” she questions. He shrugs, “Not the babysitting part. They could both use a break and I will never say no to spending time with my niece. It’s just the thought of having to turn the guest room into a baby room is funny.” 
“Oh, why?”
“I don’t know. It’s a guest room. I mean where would our family stay when they come over?” 
“Yeah, where would they stay?”
She should probably ask if he meant he can’t imagine the room as a baby room right now or if it was a forever thought; however, she is scared of the answer she is going to get so she shuts down the conversation. They sit in a new tension-filled silence that he pretends he can’t feel. 
———
After lunch, Y/N retreats to the backyard to swing in the hammock. This tells him that she needs some space and he knows she is upset when she is still outside at eleven p.m. The friction of the patio door sliding against each other makes her turn to him. She doesn’t acknowledge his presence, waiting for him to say something. He places the plate of pasta he made for dinner onto the side table beside the hammock. “I found the pregnancy tests,” he states, bringing one of the patio chairs close to her. She freezes and sits up. Her legs swing over the fabric to face him, “How?” “Maddie helped me pick out clay pot Moroccan lipstick for you and I wanted to surprise you with it. I was going to hide it in your drawer…” he explains, eyes falling to his fingers and trailing off at the end. Her head moves up and down. Her thoughts are moving around her head a thousand miles a second. He is going to break up with her. He is going to make her have an abortion. Or worse. He is going to make her choose between the baby or him on the spot. 
He grows nervous when she doesn’t say anything and his suspicions are confirmed. He understands why she is unsure about talking to him about this. The way he has spoken about having a baby in the past could’ve given her the wrong idea. He hesitantly reaches to place a hand on hers and does it when she doesn’t shy away. “I want you to know that the decision about what we do with the baby is up to you and I will be at your side during the whole process,” he assures. Her confusion causes tears to crop up in her eyes, “You don’t want the baby though. I know that, so if you are going to break up with me because I do, then just do it. But making me have to choose is kinda cruel.” His heart squeezes, hating that his words aren’t coming out as he means them to be. His head shakes like crazy and he sits beside her. He brings her head against his chest, “Babe, I don’t want to break up with you. I want to have this baby with you too.”
“You want the baby? Then how come you don’t think the guest room would be a good baby room?”
“Because my office would be a better one. The windows aren’t too big so it won’t wake the baby up in the morning and the closet there is even bigger, so when they get older they can have as many clothes as their heart desires.”
“Okay, you are right… What about when you said you want to be an uncle forever and never be a dad?”
“Honestly, I never really thought I would want to be a dad. I was content with being an uncle, but, Babe, when I found that pregnancy test, all I could think about was how happy I was to be bringing a child into the world with the most amazing woman in the world and I couldn’t wait to raise them with you.”
She leans back and rests a warm palm on his cheeks, trying to hold back her tears. “So you want to have this baby?” she verifies. He kisses the tears away, “I want this, Babe. I promise. We are going to do this. Together.”
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura
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hey-august · 10 hours
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@soupsprout, you wanted the sad ending to this angst and here it is! I'm gonna go curl up and feel both accomplished and bad for a while. 🥲
Also, @rorywritesjunk, I put the answer to the riddle in this ending, if you're still curious. 👀
➜ First part here WC: ~600 Warnings: buggy x GN!reader, mentions of death (off-screen reader and others), mentions of blood, just overall sad and angsty, no comfort
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
Things were bad and then they got worse. It took too long to find help, not that it would have mattered. Mohji tried to tell Buggy, but he wasn’t sure if the captain really heard him. 
Buggy was sitting on the ground next to you, holding your limp hand in his, and staring at nothing. Your body was slumped against his, as if you were resting. Your face was covered in red - smeared handprints from someone trying to wake you up, and face paint from someone apologizing and begging for something to change.
“Captain, what should we do? We can’t just stay here.”
No response.
“Captain? We have to do somethin-”
Buggy grabbed Mohji by the neck. The anger that flashed on his face was briefly preceded by a more painful and haunting expression.
“Go after them. Chase those fuckers down, anyone who got away,” Buggy said through gritted teeth.
Mohji nodded and coughed when Buggy let go. “And…” The next question trailed off as the lion tamer struggled not to see you, but a body that needed to be disposed of.
“That’s all. Those are the orders. Go!”
Buggy knew exactly what Mohji was going to ask, but he wasn’t ready yet. Besides seeking vengeance, he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to feel. He was full of anger and blame, which fueled the wrath that he used to lash out indiscriminately.
Of course he blamed the raiders who ambushed his ship, and Buggy made sure they felt regret until their last breath. The sounds of screaming and begging for mercy went on far longer than anyone Buggy’s crew expected. 
Unfortunately, Buggy’s anger turned on them next. They shouldn’t have let this happen. Rather than exploding with violence, Buggy began to withdraw. Part of him knew it wasn’t their fault, the crew always had each other’s backs, but he had trouble looking at anyone that was in the same room as you.
For a brief moment, Buggy also blamed you. It was your fault. You shouldn’t have gotten hurt. You should have known better. As soon as that thought formed, all the guilt fell onto Buggy’s shoulders. How could he think that of you? How could he have let this happen? He put you in danger. He didn’t protect you. He didn’t save you. He just let you die.
Buggy couldn’t bring himself to give you a burial at sea. He was afraid of sending you somewhere he couldn’t follow. You said it didn’t matter during one of those late night talks that knitted you two closer together. He remembered how bright the stars were then.
Instead of giving your body to the sea, Buggy chose a small island. One where you could always see the stars, even if they don’t shine as bright anymore.
Eventually, Buggy started eating with the crew again. Laughing with them. Drinking with them. But some days, he would withdraw. He’d sit down on the bloodstained floor, after forbidding anyone from cleaning or replacing the boards, and spend time with you.
At first he would just sit there in silence, full of pain and heartache. Then he started talking. Buggy would tell you about life on the ship, what happened that day, any little story that popped into his mind.
Sometimes, Buggy would tell you jokes and riddles. He always made sure to tell you the punchline as soon as possible, pushed by remorse and fear of leaving you without the answer again. He’d indulge in the humor until his laugh turned into sobs that he couldn’t hold in any longer.
Wiping away his tears with the back of his hands, he'd sit there with a single stinging thought. After losing you, Buggy felt like a lion at the South Pole. He felt lost.
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sunflower-lilac42 · 2 days
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because i love you
here’s a little more hughes!sister content for you, and no this will not be coming later tonight (i think)
untitled | hughes bros x sister
She remembered that night, the night she promised herself and silently promised her family members that she would be just like the three brothers. That she would be drafted in the first round, that she could hold up a 6 or a 9 or even a 2, right along side them in her own jersey. The night she promised her family that she would not let them down, and now here she was two years later doing exactly the opposite of what she wanted to do.
…….
Quinn teared up a little but quickly blinked them away, “Please.”
She sighed, looking between her eldest child and the door to where her youngest was sitting, “Fine. But come get me as soon as she says she wants me.”
He nods and turns to the door himself, knocking softly on it, “Y/n/n?”
“Go away.”
He gave Ellen a look but she only shrugged and walked away, “You asked for it.”
“Come on, bug.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Nugget. Muchkin. Squirt. I’ve got nicknames for days, bug.”
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