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#i don’t really know how to go about it though. but i have time
screampied · 19 hours
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‘ THINK I NEED SOMEONE OLDER ! ’
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ᡴꪫ‎ synopsis. university sucks major ass. on the bright side, you’re on break—you decide to go pay your father a visit. this 'visit' ends up to you being introduced to his best friend, toji. who’s he? maybe your panties know the answer.
wc. 7.0k
warnings. fem! reader, dad's best friend! toji, age gap (reader is over twenty), praise, implied multiple órgasms, unprotected, degradation, size difference, impact play, poor dad is kinda clueless, almost caught, overstimulation.
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“who’s he?”
a simple question — yet the moment the words ran out your mouth, it felt as if all eyes were on you. in reality, it was though. the tall man who was quite a few staggering inches taller than your own father had such a gaze. he had hands buried into the depths of his pockets, shifting his weight as he stood still before burning a stare right into you. an intense stare, you could almost make out somewhat of an intriguing smirk. that sly smile with an everlasting scar running down the right side of his mouth.
“hey honey,” your father waves out with a brief gesture. he throws an arm around the buff man before giving him a rough pat on the back. “this is toji. met him ‘bout a year ago at one of those boat races. heh, news flash—he lost.”
“woah. no need to embarrass me, man,” toji murmurs in a raspy tone and by all means was his voice deep. laced in pure baritone, far deeper than your fathers. by a mile, to be specific. his voice has a jagged huskiness to it, insanely attractive. as he spoke, his eyes flickered towards you and he’d occasionally look away with that same chaffing sneer. “but anyway,” toji averts his eyes back towards you. his cologne was loud, you could smell it from miles away from you. he pauses for a few good seconds before uttering. “it’s nice to meet ya, sweetheart.”
you gulped, suddenly feeling small. you couldn’t pinpoint what it was about him — his demeanor, the way he carried himself, anything was. but it was something that had you a bit drawn in so to speak. “i um..”
“she’s not that much of a speaker,” your father chuckles, giving you a soft rub near your back. “poor brain’s probably all fried from those midterms. right honey?”
“you don’t say.” toji raises a brow, glancing away for a moment with a smile came his dimples, he was suddenly intrigued by his best friend’s daughter.
that was the initial first reaction between the two of you. you ended up staying at your father’s house for the remaining duration of your visit.
nothing too much sparked between the two of you, of course there’d be subtle moments. real subtle moments—stupid things, like having him help you grab something from one of the top shelves.
of course he’d help, he was taller than you by many many inches. effortlessly towering over you. it’s the way he’d press up against you. it was quite hard to shut those thoughts of yours up. those lewd salacious thoughts that were forever kept into the very back of your brain, silently fantasizing about your father’s best friend.
apparently, he stayed for quite around the same time you did since he and your father would typically hang. do all sorts of men activities you never really cared about—golfing, shooting ranges, watching the most recent football games. that was the most annoying part, how they’d both obnoxiously yell at the screen whenever their favorite team was pathetically losing.
your room was directly upstairs, you heard everything. it was as if the walls were merely thin. in a way, they were. the constant repetitious hollering from the two men were so irksome. eyes merely rolled to the back of your head whilst you were trying to scroll on your phone in peace.
you never did understand why a dumb game of balls would drive men so crazy. nevertheless, you let off a tiny sigh before plopping right down in your bed. immensely, you stared off into space.
you had no idea why, but the minute your eyes lingered into the white nearly peeled off drywall near the ceiling, you thought about him. toji.
stupid, maybe…
it’s been a few days and you hardly knew the guy. encounters between him were subtle and brief. he’d nod his head at you, barely acknowledging your existence and going straight back to some meaningless conversation with your father.
there was one day however, one day that had you hot all over. it was when you walked in on toji, he was using the spare shower that no one really uses, it’s reserved mostly for guests—perfect for him in this case.
you remember it like it was yesterday. since you were wide awake during this time for whatever reason, your dad sent you to go replace some towels from downstairs since he was doing laundry so you mindlessly make your way downstairs. the door was visibly cracked. sure, you probably should have knocked but who takes showers around three am?
apparently, this guy.
toji was literally just getting out the shower when you walked in. steam fogged throughout the entire space.
it was hot, stuffy and dampened with mist clinging against the rectangular mirrors. smothered with fog, you practically end up bumping right into something hard.
to be specific, that something was toji’s broad chest. maybe you were a bit delusional but you could have sworn, the moment you made contact with his bulky pecs, it moved upon impact.
“excuse you, sweetheart,” toji would scoff teasingly, his low voice was a bit more rougher since it was late at night. you were definitely speechless, barely able to process a single word from your mouth. thankfully a towel was wrapped around his slim torso—yet you started to wish maybe he didn’t have it protecting his lower half.
your eyes stuck to his chest the entire time, talk about embarrassing. immediately, your pretty dilated pupils ran down his chest, down his v-line, his perfectly structured build . . and then, his happy trail. he was well trimmed of the sort, practically. toji’s version of well trimmed was we, a bit hairy. regardless, it was still an attractive feature.
the more your eyes rove, the more you glance at his nearly perfectly sculptured structure. his chest was painted with a plethora of battle scars, now you were the one intrigued. you wanted to know more.
“you’re a little rude, huh,” and you abruptly snap from your thoughts. it was so brusque…
returning back to reality, out of that lewd trance you were so desperately trapped in—you blink twice, not even realizing how he was right up close to you. toji stares down at you before sneering. “it’s like three am. shouldn’t you be in bed?”
you shift your feet a bit, maintaining a little distance before trying to reply in the best nonchalant way possible. “uh no,” and then you utter awkwardly. “shouldn’t you be in bed? who randomly wakes up to take showers this late?”
“guys my age,” he jibes. “ya wouldn’t get it.”
you deadpan, fully aware it was a joke but you held everything in you to not have your eyes roll all the way back. “whatever,” and then you nearly forget what you were about to do. he watches you, you open near the lower cabinet and replace the clean towels. it grew profoundly quiet, a pin could drop. the moment you turned around, toji scoffs to himself. “did you need anything? something else?”
“ah. thank you, i’m fine, princess,” toji huffs with a sly grin. he reaches near the small wooden table to grab what seemed to be a half-used lotion bottle. however, you didn’t expect for him to completely change the topic, flipping your own words around with a blunt, “do you need something?”
“huh?”
“you heard me, girl.”
the banter…
he was definitely cocky, playful, literally any other synonym would fit.
you hated how he’d get you speechless everytime. you loathed how he was such an effect on you. with a brief gnaw on your bottom lip you narrow your eyes, mumbling out a, “stupid question.”
“i agree,” toji smirks. “but eh. y’er a smart girl. ‘m sure you can come up with a good comeback soon.”
he was so annoying, entirely so.
it’d be simple interactions like that between the two of you. much to your surprise though, nothing really else happened. toji would tease you a bit then pretend nothing happened, throw you a compliment or two and call it a day.
toji would often visit daily or twice a day, mainly to hang with your father. you could care less about what they did, but you were bored out of your mind from being in the house all day. you could go out, but it’s not like you had anyone to go with. everyone was either busy or … busy. besides, most of your friends were on exotic vacations or out of the country—you sighed, rubbing a hand against your stomach as you stared in the ceiling wall.
but then, the most lasciviously filthy thought made its way into your thoughts. you thickly swallowed before reaching a hand down between your legs. the air grew abnormally dry, shame…
to be completely honest, you couldn’t even remember the last time you touched yourself. this couldn’t have ever been a more perfect time. you were sure your father and his cocky best friend was out at top golf, probably.
intaking a single breath, you lean back against your pillow—slowly, you started to focus on your breathing.
parting your legs, you lightly pull down your shorts before tugging your panties to the side. you wince for a little, realizing how you were already a bit soaked. a little dampened spot right towards the front part of your underwear. you knew it had to be from pondering about toji.
speaking of, you remember that time where he helped—well, ‘attempted’ to cook dinner that one time. all you could focus on was his hands. such rough thick hands, you wondered what’d it feel like to have those same hands gingerly wrap around your throat. such thick fingers shove down your throat while he calls you such degrading names—just anything.
the more you were deep in thought, the more drenched you started to become. you went slow, being patient with yourself. you imagined it was toji’s fingers instead of yours. such big fingers thrusting in and out of you.
steadily, you start to insert a single finger in. a middle finger, it felt good, you suppressed a single moan and by this point, your imagination was running wild. you allowed your body to relax for a few moments before you slipped another finger inside. seconds later, you started to gentle move around inside your clit. your pace was sweet and precise—you let out a soft moan that rang throughout your thin walls. “toji—f-fuckkk.”
your voice was shaky, imagining toji being here right now made you throb ten times more. just propped all up behind you, thrashing his fingers against your swollen folds made you more aroused than you ever thought. your thrusts against your own entrance was small, a steady pace but irregular enough to make your knees start to buckle.
throwing your head back a little, you started to whine as each second dragged. your breath became insignificantly heavy, hitched and all. you made sure to stimulate in all the right areas, adapting to a perfect rhythm, then that’s when you’re rudely interrupted. talk about a cliche.
“hey. is it anymore detergen—”
toji pauses mid sentence, literally trying to process the scenery in front of him. he stands still and his initial reaction was slow. the first thing he does is chortle lowly. “well, shit. is this a bad time?”
you’ve never felt anymore embarrassed in your life, a sudden wave of heat rushed over your body before you quickly shielded yourself with your blanket. “oh my god,” you’d squeak out, and toji averts his eyes elsewhere for a few seconds. “i thought you all left already.”
toji hums. he takes a moment, and it’s as if he’s thinking of what to say. he was amused, seeing your flustered state and he looks back at you. “we were but it got canceled last minute since a storm’s approaching,” and you let off a soft gulp, hearing his footsteps creak against your wooden floor as he got closer. “thank god it was me who came in here ‘n not your father, right princess? now that’d be embarrassing.”
“stop calling me that,” you grumble, and you don’t even realize how soft and weak your voice was. you slowly pull your fingers out before intaking another sharp breath. he glanced at you before simpering. “haven’t you heard of knocking?”
“girl,” toji utters in a low rasp. “the door was wide open. i can’t knock on air,” and you mentally eye rolled — he was so insufferable. incredibly so, toji’s eyes roam across your old room that was a bit scattered with some boxes from when you moved out four years ago. it was a bit unkempt, your father usually used your room sometimes just to store things from the attic. toji buried his hands into his pockets before chuckling. “i heard you, ya know. moaning my name all loud like that.”
you blinked thrice, sitting up before compressing your eyebrows together. “what?”
“whaaat?” he jeers, mocking you. toji inches closer towards you until he was right beside your bedside. you gaze up at him and he had a blunt sticking out from the corner of his lips. he looked so appetizing, even while dressed down. ripped jeans and a sweatshirt. you could tell he was fit, of course he was—you saw him shirtless. he was well likely in his early thirties, dressing so laid back and casual. “between you and me, sweetheart, you can do better. ‘s cute ‘n all but that’s not how ya finger yourself. been a while, yeah?”
this guy, he was so bold. casually speaking his dirty mind, not afraid to say anything.
you don’t know why, but those last few words made you throb. you loathed how right he was, it was as if he could read you like a book. between studies and actually living a university student’s life, you barely ever get time to yourself. time to please yourself.
“whatever,” you utter. “yeah... it’s been a while.”
“poor thing,” he clicks his tongue before taking a seat on your bed. it jitters from his weight for a bit before he peers a gaze at you. “hm,” he puffs out, dragging a hand against his jeans. “i’d be happy to help though. those useless fingers of yours can only please you so much, right? heh.”
this indescribable effect he had on you, it heavily irked your nerves. “…please,” and you don’t even register what quickly came out of your mouth.
you were so pent up by this point, being interrupted. you wanted to finish, you desperately wanted to finish. your soft breaths hitched, and toji’s intimate stare lingered on you for a bit. his loud cologne started to waft across the entire room, so intoxicating. “just make me finish, please.”
“there’s those manners,” he coos in a husky tone, and he gets up closer. he was purely teasing you, you just wanted to feel his touch . . . feel something at least. he pulls the fat cover that went over you, yet at a more tantalizingly slow pace. he was a mere tease, you nearly let off a whine once you felt the tips of his warm fingers skim past your thighs. “messy girl,” he mumbles, and then he pauses to glance at you. “are you sure? jus’ wanna-”
“toji,” you mutter, and you liked hearing you roll his name so sweetly off your tongue. seeing you grow purely frustrated was utter amusement to him. the way your eyebrows would curl and furrow, irises flaring and your jaw slightly tensing. you had such readable body language by default too. “please. i want you. just touch me.”
he simpers. “pretty please.”
“……”
again, he was so infuriating. you felt yourself starting to pant, not knowing how much longer you could take as he started to softly trail a thumb against your skin. his touch was so warm, it was intense and ignited something within you.
“touch me—pretty please, toji.” you mutter out, sprawling your legs out just a bit. it was so hot, the temperature surrounding the atmosphere of the room was so humid. he glances at you before smiling.
“that’s a good girl.”
his words warmed your heart in such a lewd provocative way, you just wanted his touch.
desperately yearning for it, toji leans up close, bringing a big hand to part your legs apart and he was so slow. he takes the blunt that was propped up between his teeth, setting it aside near your nightstand. you prepare to inhale deeply, not expecting him to then bring a tender kiss towards your inner thighs. he started to create a trail—a trail that gingerly went up and up and up.
“so sensitive,” he’d purr, watching your own body melt from just the softness of his lips against your skin. you wanted him to hurry, you replayed this exact scenario over and over at least a dozen times. now that it was reality, you just knew that your body wanted him. “oh. don’t give me that look,” and he smirks, watching the pout grow against your lips. “gonna stare at me all day or are ya gonna tell me how you’d like for me to start?”
“i need you to—eat me out,” you huff out in short singular breaths. you were throbbing rapidly, each moment he stalled to speak, the more aroused you grew. his warm breath just fanning against your folds had you nearly going weak.
he snickers. “need?” he repeats, and you moan once he swiftly drags a finger down your soaked cunt. it was drenched, but it could be a bit more. toji hums to himself cockily. “you don’t need shit, girl. fix your sentence ‘n talk proper..”
“i—” you gripe, starting to grow more and more frustrated. your vexed facial expression amused him. he raises his darkened brows, awaiting for your answer and the cute pout that continued to stretch across your lips was so cute. “i— i want you to eat me out, pretty please.”
“much better,” he says in a low gruff. the moment he finally hovers his mouth over your sopping clit, toji gently strokes a thumb up and down. opening you up slowly, he creates a single slow lick to make you whimper. “i’ll make ya cum quicker than you ever could, princess.”
and you knew he probably wouldn’t lie about a simple fact like that. toji’s touch, it was sloppy.
without a doubt, he was a messy eater.
just one taste of you and he was hooked—a new addiction for him and it wasn’t gambling.
you tasted sweet, candied even. he was in so deep, occasionally the tip of his nose would prod against your entrance. you slumped back against the bed, your legs twitching in pleasure. not before long, your lips started to part and you started to gnaw on your hardened knuckles. you didn’t wanna be too loud—you just remembered your father was right downstairs.
he didn’t have the best hearing in the world, but knowing you, you could be a bit overzealous with your moans.
the noises his tongue made, sliding his tongue between your folds, sucking and nibbling. he even broke away his lips just to spit a nice wad onto your pussy. you watched the entire time, mesmerized. he was so nasty—nasty and you only wanted more. toji continued to drag a thumb against your slit, lapping up your slick arousal that was already starting to drip down his chin. it ran further down, a bit of his trimmed facial hair now soaked with your sweetness.
“how’s it feel, princess,” he’d mutter out, briefly departing his lips away. as he does—you stare as a pretty cobweb of his own spit tugs against your own entrance. glistening and all, it was so sheeny. he was right between your precious thighs, and you couldn’t help but give his ruffled dark hair a light pull. “tell me how i make you feel. talk to me nice, girl.”
“good,” you whimper, nearly choking on your own saliva. your words were so trembly, you could hardly recognize yourself. it’s been a while since you’ve been eaten out, let alone being intimate. as you continued to let off irregular breathing patterns, you swallow. “f-feels good.”
“just good?” he’d tease, bringing a long suck towards your clit. you let off a whine once he playfully nibbles near that particular spot with his teeth. his tongue scrapes against your folds time and time again. it’s indescribable—toji’s head shook back and forth as he was nose deep into your pussy. for a moment, he sounds offended.
toji gives your cunt a sweet little kiss, and he feels it start to hastily pulse from doing so.
he knew you were getting close, all from a simple cue from his tongue. speaking of toji’s tongue . . it was lengthy.
so long, it reached areas that had your eyes mindlessly rolling back.
cute little cacophonies of, “oh my g-godddd,” repeated ghosts past your lips as you started to practically drag his face against you. the texture of his tongue—so moist and slick, already wet from obvious reasons, but grew even more dampened from your sheer arousal. it was a taste his tastebuds grew to crave more of. “gonna c-cum toji. f-fuckkk.”
“you’re gonna wait for me, little girl,” he grouses, and your irises fleetingly dilate. he gifts the entrance of your cunt with another string of spit, then he rubs a few circles against it. mean vigorous circles that made your legs pathetically twitch. “you make a mess when i tell you too.”
he was so mean.
such sternness in his tone, yet it turned you on. that slight secretive rasp that hid underneath his voice. toji breaks his lips away for a moment, glaring at you before focusing near the crevices of your thighs. he teasingly slides his tongue upward, away from your most sensitive area just to watch you squirm.
“toji,” you’d whimper, feeling his tongue just roam everywhere from below. he was so skilled, you’ve never had a man be so sloppy. at least in a way that toji was. he greedily sucks near your thighs, gently sinking his canines into the plush of your thighs before going back towards your pussy. “i can’t—can’t hold..”
you were barely able to finish your sentence, and that’s when you came — it was so sudden and abrupt. gushing all out of you and your nerves had your mind spiraling. a constant crazed loop.
it felt like a wave, a tsunami crashing down and it felt so good.
your orgasm that shortly followed was so loud, you didn’t even bother trying to cover your mouth. toji chuckles, cupping his mouth around the very top part of your achey slit before lapping his tongue against your hood. your hips temporarily quavered due to his tongue, and you still maintained a rough grip on his head.
“easy on the fuckin’ hair,” he’d grunt after feeling you roughly yank on his strands bringing a kiss towards your slick entrance. you swallowed, your legs feeling practically mush before he brings a terse spank towards your clit. “cute ‘n all, but i didn’t say you could finish yet.”
“s-sorry,” you’d breathe out, still feeling the after effects of your intense high. it was so good, your eyes were all hooded and droopy. toji saw a bit of drool seeping from the corners of your mouth and hums silently.
he sighs, leaning up before getting on top of you. he hovers himself and you stare up at him. he rests both arms over you, groping near the rickety headrest before leaning up close to your face.
“are you sorry, sweetheart?” and he gets up a bit closer, green viridescent eyes glance right into you—you smelled the mint and brief tang of alcohol residing on his tongue. using another hand to grab your chin, he softly pulls your bottom lip down before derisively grinning. “aw. nothing to say? no back talk this time?”
“i… want a kiss,” you pant, feeling his warm body just inches away from colliding against yours. just a single inch and he’d be grinding on you. “kiss me.”
“oh i dunno. sounds like a demand, babygirl,” he’d sneer, and your eyes leer near his scar. it was damp a little from him just being between your thighs a moment ago. perhaps it was a bit filthy, but you wanted to taste it. taste him. “ask me the right way.”
you pout, staring right into his eyes. “i wan— can i get a kiss, pretty please. i just want a kiss.”
“course ya can,” he utters, and that’s right when he squeezes your chin. your lips were plump and glossy. toji stares at you back for a long while, studying your cute expressions before he leans right in. the kiss was passionate, it felt so wrong but felt so right. you moaned the second his lips crashed onto yours. he finds it cute, feeling your arms rub and feel around his slim waist. you were pulling him closer — a sign that you wanted more of him. toji teasingly grinds his hefty body against you, and you whimper in his mouth once you feel his thick bulge prod against your panties that were halfway on you. “mhm.” he’d groan.
while his tongue skims against yours, you part your lips a bit for him and the incoming savory taste you’d get a treat out of.
you made sure to savor it, so sweet with a bit of spice.
running your tongue against his, breaking away to lick near his chin, softly making sure to lick near his stubble—you cleaned your own mess off of him. without him asking you either, toji grunts as he watched you through his peripherals. he’d never expect his best friend to have such a nasty girl for a daughter.
“y’er fuckin’ filthy,” he mumbles, breaking away and watching both strands of spit leave and depart. your lips curv into a cute needy scowl before he heard your father suddenly call out from downstairs.
“honey? i said, was that a scream…? is everything okay?”
your eyes widen, not even knowing your father was speaking—yelling actually. toji snickers, and now he’s the one suddenly quiet. prick.
“o-oh um,” you clear your throat, sitting up and that’s when toji starts to create soft chaste kisses near the inside of your neck. you nearly moaned before turning your head to speak. “i’m—i’m fine. i thought i saw a cockroach.”
“cockroach? do you need me to come up and—”
“no!” you’d quickly reply before clearing your throat once more. you let off a sigh, feeling toji start to suck near your collarbone. “i mean, no dad. i’m okay. thanks anyways.”
“okay honey, if you say so.”
toji chortles. “fuck. you’re bad at lying. just tell y’er old man you were getting eaten out by me.”
you glare at him, immensely bringing your brows into a furrow. “no, i’m not gonna say that. are you crazy?”
“maybe.”
you eye rolled, yet part of you felt like he wasn’t exactly lying. after all, he could probably be insane—perhaps he was.
you didn’t know, and to be frank, you didn’t really care. all you really cared about was getting pleasured—riding out orgasm after orgasm with him, and that’s exactly what you ended up doing for hours on end.
toji would find himself leaned back against your pillow, studying your hips carefully before grinning.
the moment you lightly shove him back, he clicks his tongue. “oh?” he says, and you already sprung his dick out. he was very much hard, presenting you with an upward slight curve. you licked your lips, hovering over him before giving him a few strokes. a groan slips past his lips and your thumb brushes against the various veins that ran just below his foreskin. “y’er gonna ride me? can a sweet girl like you even handle it?”
“shut up,” you’d fuss, and he just smirks at you. you wanted to wipe that smug expression from his face. he knew just how to irritate your nerves. toji watches you throw your leg over him, a simple hook around. you’re straddling him now and he brings two rough hands to attach near your hips. you lean in to kiss him again and he returns it, slowly tilting his head back and your arms wrap around him. he feels you reach down, grabbing ahold of his shaft before softly sliding the head of his dick near your slick entrance. “s-shit. you’re big.”
“i try not to disappoint,” he slyly says, sliding a thumb near your hips. his voice was so low, so pompous and arrogant. you give him a glare but he only hums out of pure amusement. “barely the tip in ‘n y’er struggling. need my help, sweetheart?”
you ignored him and he smirks, allowing you to do your thing—you bring one hand towards his chest, gently feeling near his perfectly chiseled abs. he was so toned, tracing against his tense muscles and he watches your every move. it was as if time was stood still, he chuckles at how eager you were. you weren’t like him, you weren’t patient and thorough. you were a bit more rushed and sloppy—cute, it was very much cute to him though.
a moan goes past your lips once the wet tip of his slowly starts to sink inside. it had a few droplets of pre-cum leaking down, and you slowly rocked your hips in place to get comfortable. his eyes go lower to focus more on your body, the grip he had on your waist was so rough and sensual. because toji was so thick — it took you a good six minutes, six precise minutes to reach all the way down to the base. your lips opened a bit, and you let off a soft shrilling whimper once you did a cute attempt at jerking forward.
“take it slow,” he purrs in such a rasp, you leisurely started to lurch back and forth once he was buried all the way down to the hilt. you inhale deeply and he was so hefty. balls deep, swollen balls that was hidden and engulfed beneath your inner walls. “atta girl.” he praises, watching you try to maintain a decent rhythm.
ringing went throughout your ears, you felt all hot.
toji playfully brings a hand to feel near your tummy. you were wearing some old university hoodie. it was comfortable, but much to his surprise, you didn’t have a bra underneath. he hums to himself, and you let off a moan once his hand trails ever further. further and further until his thumb brushes against your perky nipples.
“t— toji,” you’d moan, and another hand of his was tightly clinging onto the left part of your waist. you were riding him smoothly. yet since he was so big, you started to feel your thighs building up with drowsiness. your efforts were cute to him, so desperately eager to get off.
his black lashes flicker, and the way he’s all leaned back and manspread was so attractive—you felt your back start to naturally arch and it didn’t take long for toji to reach that particular spot. once you felt his tip prod against there—way past inside the orifices of your cunt, you let off a sweetened whimper. “found it,” he whispers, bringing you close towards his chest. you lean into his touch, intaking his cologne into your nose before your hand starts to wander all over his body. he liked how handsy you were, slipping a hand right underneath his shirt to feel a part of his abs. you made sure to trace directly on each line, each tender flexing muscle. all the way down onto his sharp v-line. further down, you started to feel his happy trail. your favorite.
he grunts, feeling the softness of your hands meander freely. “that’s it, sweetheart,” he gruffs in a sharp breath. an imaginary lump getting caught in his throat — he was holding both of your hips upright and by this point you were slamming right onto his thick cock. “touch me more. feel all over me baby.”
“can i—” you started, leaning in to kiss near the crook of his neck. your voice was soft, a bit trembly before your hands went up this time. feeling near his pecs before a breath gets caught in his throat. “can i feel here, toji?”
“f-fuckin’ girl,” he groans, a chill running down his spine the second he feels you gently rubbing a thumb against his nipples this time. toji was surprisingly far more sensitive despite his rough front he was putting up, it was a bit cute. after all, he did say feel all over you. toji was panting now, while you rode him continuously, he swiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead. “whatever.”
you giggle, watching him now be the one with a pouty expression this time. you plant a kiss near where his slanted scar went down his lip before he spanks your ass. “just ‘cause ‘m sensitive there doesn’t mean ‘m gonna get all whiney for you, girl,” he utters in a raspy tone. the sharp sting from the spank felt good.
you felt yourself twitch between your thighs whilst your hips moved in harmony. you do a little back bend with your hips, constantly jerking against him and he grunts with how slow yet sloppy your movements were. “keep goin’ slow like that. ‘m gonna—cum.”
his voice consistently got deeper, and the tips of his fingers gently pierced into your skin—you were vocal yourself though. moan after moan, a constant repeat. you found yourself whining out his name as if it was a lewd mantra. over and over again, to toji though, it was purely music to his ears.
he feels you start to slow down a bit though, exactly at the minute he tells you he was approaching his incoming release. toji clenched his jaw, gifting the fat of your ass with another mean spank. “f-fuck. keep fuckin’ me. make me fuckin’ cum.”
you plant kisses near his neck this time, near the very inside and you swiftly quicken your pace a little. he was stuffing you full of thick inches, full of such girth that had your tongue salivating right in your mouth. you could only imagine what it’d feel like to have his seed pouring into you. you couldn’t lie to yourself, ever since you saw toji shirtless. his bulge sticking out through his towel, you only imagined he’d be so full of cum to give. you tilt your hips backwards, and he lets off a husky groan.
that particular spot reached so deep, you felt it too. his cockhead pokes and taps repeatedly against your sweet spot and you sob out a needy, “f-fuck, ‘s right there,” you tilt forward and he’s just about reaching his peak. the longer you took, the more spanks you received.
toji was a patient man, but only for so long.
the bed frame creaked constantly, it was the only tune that played in the background. he slithers a hand down between your thighs and spanks your cunt a few times. you whimpered, already a bit sensitive but felt something else approaching. “toji— toji.”
toji groans, the build up nearly taking his breath away. with your rhythmic thrusts against him, his eyes merely roll and he has to take a minute to catch his breath. you wrap a hand around his throat—tenderly of course—then place your lips onto his once he finally finishes inside of you.
he didn’t expect for you to choke him, but he liked it.
he liked how forward you were, your thumb lightly grazed against his adam’s apple, and a deep grunt gets trapped in his throat. your cunt was practically overflowed with such dumps of his cum—you’ve never felt more filled. toji shook a little, a hand gripping your ass as you kissed him.
slowly, he started to feel himself get addicted.
he already was addicted from having a simple taste of you earlier, but he was getting infatuated. you had him whipped, and he knew this probably wouldn’t be a one time thing.
albeit, the last thing you expect is to pull away from the kiss once you feel a sudden pressure brewing up within you.
momentarily, you whine—feeling a sudden familiar wetness coat his base. nerves all throughout your body had you locked in a trance, and you pause your hips before toji tsks.
“little girl,” he mumbles with a sly smile. “did you just squirt on me?”
it was so unexpected, you pant heavily—heave after heave leaving your lips before you moan out a sweet, “y-yes.”
“don’t be shy about it. i like when it’s messy,” he sneers, his eyes tantalizingly trailing down your body once more before he lifts you up just a bit from his shaft. he observes the lewd mess, how much cum trickled past your thighs and he hums. “wanna do that again? i bet i can do it in five minutes, baby.”
to say you were being treated like a rag doll was an understatement.
toji was ruthless with you, ruthless with you in your own house. well, ex-house. you didn’t live here anymore but you used to.
he coaxed orgasm after orgasm out of you like it was nothing. making you imitate and try positions you’ve never even heard of—you were getting stretched, easily said. it’s been hours by this point, you weren’t even in your room anymore. you were in the bathroom with him.
toji had you propped up against the door, you’re taking him from behind and you’re roughly biting down on your lip.
entirely so, it was still risky.
your father was right outside near the living room doing who knows what. probably watching some sports program—yet of course, he started to grow curious of where his best pal went. initially, toji said he had to use the restroom.
like four hours ago . .
he was so mean too, spanking your ass numerous times. your ass was perked upright for him, and you’re leaning against the door. you whimpered, feeling him grip on your panties that he refused to pull off of you.
oh, he likes seeing it dangle and thwack against your skin. the pretty fabric just cutely rubbing against your thighs. his weight just barely hovers against you and he’s smacking right into you.
your cunt swallowed his hefty inches each and every time—by this point, you weren’t sure if you could even give him one more.
you lost count of how many mind blowing orgasms that you were just completely intoxicated from his dick and his dick alone.
toji’s rough bare hands grab onto both parts of your ass, spreading it before deepening his strokes just a bit. you moaned, feeling every inch store inside of your sweet cunt. he knew just where to hit you. you breathe through your mouth and your nose at the same time, heavy cute pants that started to fog up the door’s material.
“fuck, fuck me f-fuckkk,” you’d drag out, and your back naturally arches just from a teasing touch of his finger racing down your back.
your ass was held up high and your cheek was softly nudging against the cold door. another build up was approaching and you were just so in awe—you were literally thinking, where has he been all your life? “close, ‘m getting closer.”
“bet you are. drippin’ all on me ‘n it’s fuckin’ nasty,” he replies—yet you freeze once you hear footsteps approach the door. it was your father, right when you were about to cum—you feel toji’s hand wrap around your mouth. your eyes roll backwards, and then he speaks through the other end of the door.
“toji? hehe, did ya fall in there man? you’re missing the game. we’re down by four points.”
toji chuckles, hearing a tiny muffled squeak go past your lips. he was balls deep, giving you such thick vigorous inches. that’s when he leans right up close to you—a hand still propped to have your mouth shut before whispering in a raspy tone. “you gotta be quiet, sweetheart. you want y’er old man to hear you make a sloppy mess on me?”
you shake your head, making an attempt to try and suck on his fingers and be smiles. “messy baby.”
your mouth was now stuffed with nothing but his thick fingers. you moaned, coating each digit with your glistening saliva as he pounded right into you. the grip your cunt had on him made him groan. eyes roll into the depths of your cranium so far back that your vision was pure black. squelch after squelch, it was so erotic. the build up of your incoming release yet again.
it was so slow and tense, you felt your thighs ache and tremble the more you were arched all over for him. the most sluttiest arch he’s seen in a while.
“huh—oh, nah man i’m good,” toji replies with a simper. you were trying so hard to be quiet, if your father heard anything, that’d be a wrap for you.
dying out of pure embarrassment certainly wasn’t on your bucket list for sure. the way toji responded was so casual, almost as if he wasn’t just happily drilling into his best friend’s cunt in his own home. “four points? shit. defense can’t do anything right.”
“telllll me about it! i could play better with my eyes clothes, damn.”
you found it so irksome how they were casually having a dumb conversation whilst you were just about to gush right into toji’s shaft—you felt him dip his hips into you deeper though, and you let off a sweet whine.
toji leans into your ear and whispers. “you’re doing a good job, sweetheart,” and then he chuckles. removing his hand—you nearly let off the most loudest orgasm imaginable, but you kept it together by biting your tongue. it was a cute squeal, and as your legs parted you made such a mess.
again…
it was probably the umpteenth time.
while you ride out your release, he’s slowing down his strokes and stares at the excess cum filling up your entrance. toji licks his lips, dragging a thumb to plug it all back in once he pulls out. he didn’t like putting things to waste. you whimper, feeling so taken aback from how stuffed full you were.
it was an awkward silence, you felt a sharp scare in your stomach once you thought your father heard everything — but thankfully so, he plopped right back down on the couch. toji lets you take a moment to calm down, and then he brings a wet kiss towards your lips. you were so sensitive, trembling within his hold—you didn’t want him to leave now.
“atta girl,” he purrs, that same sly smile pressing against his lips as he brings a thumb towards your lip. his gaze was so hypnotizing. such pools of green eyes look like it had a story to tell, and perhaps you wanted to know who toji fushiguro really was.
maybe that story is ready for another day though.
thankfully you didn’t get caught.
or did you—you had to leave out the bathroom first, then toji after about a lengthy minute time difference so it wouldn’t be remotely suspicious. once the both of you were out, after about an hour of you all crammed up and watching the boring never ending basketball game, your dad ends up going to the bathroom.
while he was occupied, you leaned against toji and he wraps an arm around you. he could tell you wanted more—but his gaze was stern, telling you with his eyes to basically be a good girl and be patient.
a few seconds past before you father bellows out a pitched. “erm. toji? is this shampoo—? what’s this white stuff over the sink? doesn’t look like shampoo.”
the both of you share the same frozen expression, impish smiles fading before you nudge toji to speak after long seconds pass.
“huh? oh, that’s uh mayonnaise. i forgot to clean up after myself.”
“aren’t you allergic to mayonnaise?”
you mentally facepalmed, watching toji break into a sheepish sweat before he gruffs out a low, “i guess not that brand of mayonnaise.”
“right. riiiight,” your father mutters, and you heard sudden shifting. it was abrupt, and you felt something fall — probably a brush from the familiar after sound, you then hear your dad add a follow up question. “wait a minute,” and he glances down near the floor. “are these panties?”
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sansaorgana · 2 days
Text
— THROWN TO THE WOLVES (VIII)
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PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE PART FOUR || PART FIVE || PART SIX PART SEVEN
PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader // Atreides!OC
SUMMARY — Giedi Prime celebrates Feyd-Rautha's birthday and the hundredth kill in the arena. Meanwhile, na-baroness gets reminded by The Baron who pulls the strings and finds out unpleasant truth about the promise her aunt has given to the Bene Gesserit.
AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is Paul Atreides’ half-sister. I wasn't sure what titles Feyd's children would have but since his brother is a Count, I assumed his children would be C(o)unts and C(o)untesses. I mean, his eldest son would become na-baron but only after his father would become The Baron, I assume 🤔 Next chapter we go to Arrakis, babes!!! 🤭 Thank you for all your comments, reblogs and messages! 💕
WARNINGS — arranged marriage, mentions of sexual activities (no actual smut), violent behaviour, death, syringes, mentions of planned and scientifical breeding, blood pact
WORD COUNT — 6,670
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
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THROWN TO THE WOLVES (VIII)
You were laying on an examination table and staring at the black ceiling above you while the medic was busy with noting down some things and injecting you with vitamins, minerals and proteins. It was the day of Feyd-Rautha’s hundredth kill and his birthday but you hadn’t spent much time with him the past few days since he was restraining himself physically before the fight.
You still shared one bed with him, though. He wasn’t avoiding you as much as he had been the last time.
“How do you feel, na-baroness?” The medic asked and you smirked at him.
“Like you care about it,” you pointed out. “We both know you only care about the child.”
“I care about what I am being told to care about, my Lady. I follow orders,” he explained. “I asked na-baron the other day whether I should do everything to keep you in the best state possible or focus strictly on the child, na-baroness. He wanted me to ensure you would be alright,” he added and you tried your best not to show how surprised you were.
“He really said that?” You only asked.
“Well…” the medic looked down and laughed nervously, “he said that you might still be useful later, my Lady. Forgive my words.”
“The words are not yours, therefore you do not have to apologise for them,” you assured him. “Anyway, if I ordered for you to be killed, who would make sure I am alright?” You teased with a smile and he sighed with relief.
“So, how do you feel, na-baroness?” He repeated the previous question.
“I feel… different,” you told him. “I have these cravings…”
“Cravings are perfectly normal during pregnancy, my Lady,” he nodded his head.
“Yes, I understand. But recently I want to eat the same food as my husband although I still find it quite disgusting but… I still crave it. Feyd says it’s the child being whimsy but he is no medic…”
“It will pass,” the medic looked up at you and assured you. “The cravings will pass, my lady, after the pregnancy. Your husband is right about the child.”
“Other than that, except for feeling a little emotional at times, I do not experience any side effects of pregnancy. I don’t even feel sick in the mornings,” you told him.
“Yes, because I am trying my best to make this process go as smoothly as possible for you, my Lady,” he smiled and noted something down again.
“But…” you furrowed your brows, remembering something that had been worrying you lately. He looked up at you. “You see, during the celebration, I talked to my previous maids, perhaps you remember them. And they are pregnant, too. One of them told me the Harkonnen pregnancies are different and she warned me.”
The medic sighed and leaned back in the chair as he hesitated for a while whether he should explain this whole situation to you or not.
“There is no such thing as Harkonnen pregnancy, my Lady. We are humans just like you are,” he reminded you. “It’s the centuries of living on this heavily polluted planet that made us look the way we do and mutated some of our DNA but we are not of different species.”
“I understand,” you nodded. “Forgive me, I did not want to insult your culture.”
“Na-baroness does not have to apologise,” he bowed his head down slightly. “You see, our women are not very fertile because of the atmosphere on this planet. That is why our… medicine… has progressed so much. We needed to find an artificial way of ensuring population growth. The Harkonnen women – even boosted with injections – usually weaken a lot during pregnancies. But their bodies do not change much. When it comes to off-world women…” He hesitated once again and you sat up, listening very carefully. “Let’s say, your body treats your son as a foreign element. He is half Harkonnen – with the best genetic material from his father, of course – but your… clean and healthy body treats him as something polluted and poisonous. And what happens, my Lady, when you spill a drop of poison into someone’s drink?” He asked you.
“Diffusion,” you gasped and he nodded. Your heart skipped a beat. “So, the child is poisoning me?” You swallowed thickly as you asked. You could feel all your limbs go weak at the thought.
“No, na-baroness, not with me around,” he chuckled and shook his head. “But your former maids do not have such medical innovations, I’m afraid.”
“Will they die then?” You asked.
“No, they will not die. And their bodies might go back to normal some time after the pregnancy, once the blood gets rid of all the… toxins,” he added. “Forgive me, I did not mean to scare you, my Lady. And it brings me no pleasure to admit how truly poisoned our people are. It feels humiliating in a way.”
“So I have nothing to worry about?” You stood up and watched him carefully. He was visibly hiding something from you.
“Na-baroness doesn’t have to worry about the child taking away her strength, no,” he only said.
“What should I worry about then?” You raised your eyebrow at him, demanding an answer. You could see him panicking a little. He was the Baron’s loyal servant but you were being pushy and he was aware of the power you had recently gained. He couldn’t just lie to you so easily nowadays.
“I think you have been thinking of it, too, my Lady, of that possibility,” he whispered and you furrowed your brows. “Your mother, she… She died in childbirth, did she not? And everyone keeps saying how much you look like her, my Lady.”
“My mother did not die because she was weak in flesh,” you explained to him although you became nervous when he mentioned that. “She died because she was weak in mind. She couldn’t bear to live with my father in a loveless union. It killed her that on the day I was born he was with his pregnant lover. She died of sadness,” you informed him and he widened his eyes a little at that. You were aware that your explanation was not exactly very medically accurate.
“I can only say that I will try my best for the same thing not happening to you, na-baroness,” he stood up as well and bowed down, making you feel stupid for your outburst. Of course he was right. Your mother had died because she had lost too much blood.
She had died because of you.
Because of a child with a man she hadn’t loved. Because of a child she probably hadn’t even wanted in the first place.
Your whole life you had been imagining your life with her. How much she would love and cherish you. But what if she would not? Now, more than ever, pregnant with Feyd-Rautha’s son, you understood what your mother had gone through. She had been forced to give birth to you and she had paid the biggest price for it.
“I… I should leave now and prepare for the event,” you told the medic and he nodded at you and watched you walk out of the room.
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You walked through the dark corridor being led by the guards. You had been there before, a few days after your wedding, being taken to Feyd-Rautha preparing for his fight, scared of his reaction to see you disobeying him with the choice of your dress. These past few months, lots of things had changed. You walked confidently now with your head held high and waited for the guard to open the big, black doors in front of you.
You walked inside the room and spotted your husband in the middle of it, surrounded by the servants putting black paint stripes on his bare chest. One of the male servants was presenting the knives on a black, velvet cushion.
They all turned around to see you approaching them and you purposefully took your time while walking gracefully in a dress that was supposed to be one of his birthday presents. It was a mix of black latex – one of your new favourite fabrics – and black silk. Delicacy and vulgarity mixed together, wrapped around your curves and revealing just enough to let the imagination run free but not enough to actually reveal anything that belonged to Feyd-Rautha only. Your hair was loose but you wore a beautiful black diadem that had been a gift from one of the lords, given to you during the celebration feast thrown in your honour.
“Well, well, well,” Feyd’s eyes squinted at the sight of you as you stood right in front of him. You hadn’t seen him at all this morning because he had woken up very early to prepare. “I was just about to check the blade,” he pointed at one of the knives on the cushion. You saw terror in the eyes of the servants standing behind him.
Feyd reached out for the knife and balanced it a little in his hand before facing you and opening his mouth to show off his long tongue and licking the tip of the blade. You nearly gasped at the vulgarity of this act that made you ache in your core after a few days of not being touched by him at all. In your head, you imagined him dropping to his knees and burying his face right between your legs. It was making you feel dizzy to think of that and the tension between you two seemed to be under voltage.
But when you spotted his wrist tilting a bit, you already knew what would happen now.
“Tsk, tsk,” you hissed at him and he froze, confusedly looking at you. “It’s time to grow up, don’t you think?” You asked, teasingly. “Only spoiled little boys discard their toys so easily.”
You liked his bloodthirst and found it more than useful but you didn’t like to watch innocent slaves being killed for fun. You knew that it was not the custom of all Harkonnens to do that. A common lord would not kill so easily mostly because it would cost him money to get another slave. But Feyd couldn’t care less about the material aspect of it.
“Also, I do not understand why you decide to restrain yourself from fucking me but you can’t restrain yourself from killing before the actual fight in the arena. It makes no sense to me,” you added. “You need to be as railed up as possible.”
After a short while he lowered his hand and put the knife back on the cushion as the servants behind him sighed with relief.
“It’s not balanced properly,” he told the male servant. “Bring me another one, you useless sack of meat,” he ordered and the nervous man bowed down before hurrying out of the room.
“Good boy,” you praised Feyd, proud of yourself.
It was one thing to make him kill for you but it was another to stop him from killing.
“You want to weaken me,” he drawled through the gritted teeth. He was already railed up to the maximum and it was delicious to see him in such a state.
“Me?” You asked, playfully. “Far from that,” you explained. “I want you to be a rabid dog today, do you understand me?” You took a step forward to grab his crotch as your face remained inches away from his. The servants behind him widened their eyes and you felt a shiver going down his starved body. “Today is very important, my pet,” you whispered. “Do not disappoint me,” your hand squeezed him and let go as fast as you felt him hardening under your palm.
Feyd smirked at you.
“Rabid dog,” he only nodded, “for my Baroness,” he added and you felt a wave of pleasure crawling all the way through your skin.
You leaned in to cup his cheeks and place a kiss upon his forehead.
“Accept my blessing,” you breathed out, “and happy birthday, my darling”.
You took a step back and smiled faintly at him before bowing down slightly –  pure act of mockery after showing your unquestionable dominance – and walking away to leave the room to let him continue his preparations.
“I will make you proud,” you heard his voice when the guards opened the doors in front of you. To that, you gave no answer as you left the chamber and placed both of your hands protectively on your abdomen.
The truth was, he had no idea how important that fight could be for the both of you. Baron Harkonnen hadn’t spoken to you a lot the past few days and you had no idea if he had decided to listen to your advice or not. For a while you wanted to warn Feyd about such a possibility but you knew that it would only take away satisfaction and pleasure from him. And it was his birthday. He deserved his gift.
That is, if The Baron had listened to you.
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After being announced, you waved at the Giedi Prime citizens gathered in the arena as they cheered loudly at the sight of you. You gave them a wide but dignified smile before sitting on the chair next to the Baron’s and taking your binoculars from his servant.
“You will be pleased,” Baron told you as he watched you from the corner of his eye and puffed on his pipe.
“There are a lot of ways to please me, my Lord. Care to specify?” You teased and you swore, one of his eyes twitched at that.
“He will be given three Atreides soldiers that we kept imprisoned after taking over Arrakis. You might even recognise them,” Baron explained.
“I doubt,” you winced. “I never paid attention to soldiers,” you explained. “Not as individuals, I mean.”
“Well, you better pay attention to one of them now because he is not drugged,” Baron informed you and your heart skipped a beat at the revelation.
It made you both excited and terrified. You couldn’t show any of this to the Baron so you just nodded your head at him.
“If my nephew dies today, it will be on you,” he chuckled.
“It has no significance to you, does it? Your next heir is already in the making,” you pointed out sternly and caressed your womb. You dropped your formalities with him nearly at all because you felt that you no longer had to address him as my Lord. Not only you had advanced in his eyes in the ladder of his enemies but you also held the title of Duchess Atreides.
Oh, you had just realised. You really were Duchess Atreides now. And you would watch your husband murdering your own soldiers. That was dark, you had to admit. Baron still had his spirit.
“If my nephew turns out to be so weak to be killed today by a mid Atreides soldier, I am sure his son will be no better,” Baron’s voice got serious again and it caused a chill to go down your spine.
Well, you were trapped. Feyd had to win, otherwise you and your son would die, too. How stupid you had been to think that the Baron wouldn’t twist the game for his own gain.
“We will have to find a way to plant a better seed in your cunning womb then, my Baroness,” his eyes sparkled at you and then he brought the binoculars to his face and watched the arena.
You turned your head around to hide the way your body gagged at his words. You’d rather him to kill you than find a way to implant his spawn inside your womb, even if it would not even require touching him.
You took a deep breath in and watched Feyd entering the arena through your binoculars as the crowd cheered. What had you done…? Had you outplayed yourself? Would it be your end?
Your shaking hand squeezed your womb as if you wanted to comfort your son although he was too small to be stressed about it.
It’s going to be alright, you kept thinking, pretending you were talking to your child. Your father’s going to win it, my little one, don’t you worry.
You were so lost in the thoughts of stress and anxiety that your senses got numbed for a while and you came back to reality only when the whole arena was filled with a loud cheer as Feyd’s first opponent was killed.
You sighed with relief as he had only two to go now. You focused on the man who was not drugged and you realised that you indeed recognised him. He was an excellent warrior and it made you feel uneasy.
You tried not to look at the Baron at all but you could feel his eyes on you. And not only his.
You looked up through your binoculars and saw that on the balcony in front of you, the Bene Gesserit sisters were sitting together. Not only the local one but lots of them – hiding in the shadows behind their veils. Watching you.
You wondered if one of them was your aunt. Probably.
“Don’t you just hate them?” You fought your disgust and fear as you spoke up.
“Hm?” Baron asked.
“The Bene Gesserit,” you explained. “Their schemes and plans, they interfere with yours a lot, don’t they? Don’t you hate how much power they hold even over you?”
“Well, what would you propose to do with them? I can’t just throw them out,” he laughed at you.
“Why not? If I was The Baroness, I’d limit their influence in the Harkonnen systems,” you told him and he brought the binoculars down as the crowd cheered when Feyd dealt with another drugged warrior.
“Then perhaps you are not ready to become her yet,” Baron squinted his eyes at you.
“Why is that?” You brought your binoculars down as well and dared to turn your head around to face him as if you were accepting a challenge.
“You cannot reject customs so old and so common throughout the galaxy if you want to be a respectable House and not an outsider. I thought you’d know that, it’s basic knowledge,” he explained.
“I thought The Harkonnens were richer than the Emperor himself and with an army much bigger than his. Houses of such influence don’t have to care about the rules. They make them. I thought you’d know that, it’s basic knowledge,” you drawled.
If Feyd would win this fight, you would remain untouchable. If he would die, your life would be hell anyway. You had nothing to lose. You could speak to The Baron however you wished. At least your anger was telling you this and it was very tempting to listen to it.
But The Baron only chuckled at you.
“I like your fierceness. It is obvious you hold lots of hatred towards the Bene Gesserit but you cannot let your personal judgement overshadow the real situation. They can be useful,” he told you.
“I guess they can be,” you shrugged your arms and brought the binoculars back to your face.
“If it wasn’t for them, your dead body would rot in the Arrakis’ desert now,” Baron reminded you and you swallowed thickly.
You had other things to worry about now. Feyd was left alone with the undrugged Atreides warrior and he was struggling to win that one. You clutched on the edge of your chair with one of your hands as you watched him being nearly killed over and over. He was fighting back excellently but his opponent was more equal to him and his skills than you’d like him to be. You could see on the people’s faces that they all held their breaths.
But none of their lives were in as much danger as yours in the case of your husband’s death.
Your anxiety turned your hands cold and formed a gulp in your throat that was making you feel nauseous as you watched Feyd getting rid of all his cheating devices that were supposed to make him safe. He was full of adrenaline and wanted to show off – to make you proud. But he had no idea how much it all could ruin your life in the process.
“What is he doing?” Even Baron’s servant was shocked.
“Showing his worth,” Baron chuckled.
You wanted to scream at The Baron to make it stop and it was physically hurting you that you had to restrain yourself from doing so. You couldn’t show weakness but not only were you worried about yourself and your child but you had also just realised you were worried about your husband’s life.
It was an odd discovery but when you thought that you’d never be able to hear him call you pet or have him fuck you, you would miss it dearly. If you’d never be able to cup his angry face and watch it relax at your sweet cooing, you would be very upset.
It was pure torture to watch him fight now and struggle with the Atreides soldier. There was no way the Baron didn’t see the way your legs and arms were shaking. But it probably brought him nothing but pleasure.
When Feyd definitely killed the brave opponent and was announced a winner as he screamed in victory and raised his blade, you still couldn’t believe that it was happening for real. You needed a moment to go back to reality and when the cheers of Giedi Prime citizens reached your ears, you stood up abruptly. The people cheered even louder now at the sight of you and you approached the railing to look down at your husband.
You were aware that all binoculars at the moment were pointed at you so you tried not to show a hint of fear and nothing but pride. In Feyd’s eyes you spotted a sparkle at the sight of your satisfaction with his performance.
You turned around and passed the chuckling Baron without the word to reach the elevator as your guard followed you without a word. You wanted to be with your husband now.
It seemed like forever until the elevator was finally down and you hurried out of it to run through the dark corridor to reach the doors to Feyd’s chamber. On your way you spotted the Harkonnen servants dragging dead bodies of his opponents but you didn’t even flinch.
“Stay outside,” you ordered the guard and he nodded before you pushed the doors open and entered the room.
Feyd was standing there shirtless and smirking proudly at himself as the medic was tending his fresh wounds with some sort of liquid. You approached them and the medic bowed down at you as he moved out of your way.
You cupped your husband’s face and brought it down to press his forehead to yours. He was a bit taken aback by the aggressiveness of your moves.
“You did it, Feyd. You did it,” you felt tears streaming down your face and he furrowed his brows at your reaction. He grabbed your wrists and pushed you away slightly.
“You knew,” he only said and clenched his jaw. “You knew about that man not being drugged, did you not?” His pupils darkened. “What game are you playing? Trying to get rid of me with my uncle, huh? You want to be his little Baroness instead?”
“My Lord…” The medic tried to interfere seeing the way your husband was twisting your wrists to cause you pain. But Feyd only gave him a deadly glare.
Sometimes rabid dogs would bite their owners, too. You weren’t scared of him, though. He was confused and jealous.
“My darling, not only I knew but it was also my idea,” you told him and he froze to take a better look at your face. You smiled at him. “And now everyone on Giedi Prime respects you for the warrior you are. I have seen you train many times before, I thought the way your uncle gives you drugged warriors is humiliating to you,” you explained softly. “I couldn’t tell you before because it would spoil your fun. Happy birthday, Feyd,” you added.
He softened in an instant and let go of your wrists only to grab them again and bring them to his lips and shower them with hungry and sloppy kisses that would later leave the red marks. His kisses were never soft or gentle, you suspected he wouldn’t know how to kiss like that.
“Leave us,” you whispered almost inaudibly to the medic and he bowed down before walking outside the room.
When Feyd finished soothing your wrists, he pulled you closer to him and you placed a kiss on his forehead.
“You made me proud,” you told him and picked up the bowl of liquid the medic had left behind as you began to tend your husband’s wounds yourself. He shivered when your fingertip touched him gently for the first time and you shushed him quietly. “When you killed your harpies, your uncle caught me in an empty room and told me that the other lords call you weak now. I told him to give you a real warrior so the lords stop their whispers. But my real agenda was to show the nobility of Giedi Prime that you are a worthy successor,” you shared the details of your plan with him.
“What do you mean he caught you in an empty room?” Feyd’s jaw clenched.
“That is not important now, my pet,” you shook your head with a chuckle. Your fingers worked delicately and slowly on his smooth skin. You doubted anyone had ever touched him this way before.
“One victory like this is not enough,” he pointed out.
“I know. But now it’s going to be easier. We still have to be patient, though,” you looked up to meet his gaze. “Here, it’s done,” you announced and put the bowl away.
“You should leave before I ravage you,” he looked you up and down with so much hunger in his eyes that you felt as if you were already naked in front of him.
“You think I don’t feel the same after all these days of not feeling you?” You laughed at him. “Do it,” you dared him and his eyes widened. “I trust you won’t hurt me despite your starvation,” you teased.
Some part of you really trusted him. Perhaps because he was the only person in the world you could trust amongst the Harkonnens and you desperately wanted an ally.
Your plan would only work out if you had Feyd by your side.
“Later,” he shook his head, surprising you with the level of his self-discipline. “I can wait a few more hours but I will not risk the safety of my heir,” he explained.
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The birthday celebrations started but Feyd was not very excited about them. He had been way more interested in the celebration thrown for you and your son than about his own. He seemed to be bored and all the gifts presented to him were making him nod his head without any enthusiasm whatsoever. Birthdays were not celebrated as officially as other holidays on Giedi Prime so you were able to roam freely around the room and talk to people while he was doing his own thing. However, you were growing tired and exhausted. It was evening already and all the stress you had experienced earlier wore you out. 
You felt Feyd’s hands on your shoulders and you turned around to face him with a smile.
“I’m bored here,” he told you.
“It’s your birthday, you should be celebrating,” you caressed his cheek.
“I’d rather celebrate with you upstairs,” he smirked and you nodded softly. “I’ll go talk to my uncle now as he wishes to see me and you go to the bedroom and wait there for me,” he ordered and you leaned in to peck his lips. 
“Don’t take too long, I have more gifts for you,” you told him and his eyes sparkled as he nodded his head and walked away to go to his uncle.
You excused yourself using your fragile state and you left the dining room to go upstairs. Once again you were not guarded but this time you decided not to wander around the yet unexplored rooms and go straight to yours.
When you were about to reach the staircase, you heard someone else’s footsteps behind you. They weren’t as heavy as the usual steps of the Harkonnen guards or lords but they still made your heart sink in your chest. You turned around and spotted the local Bene Gesserit woman standing a few steps behind you. You wanted to sigh with relief but you were not stupid to think that her presence meant you were safe. Quite the opposite.
“What do you want?” You asked her.
“To talk,” she approached you and took her veil off. You were surprised to see that she was a regular woman like you were. You had never been able to spot that from behind the veil covering her face.
“Talk about what?” You gritted your teeth and she reached her hand out towards your womb. You hissed at her and grabbed her wrist to stop her.
“I mean no harm,” she assured you and pressed her hand to your abdomen for a while. Then she hummed to herself and took the hand away. “Impressive. Your aunt barely managed to convince the sisters to allow this union because your genes were not as strong as they wanted Feyd-Rautha’s children to have. However, I see that the Harkonnen medicine is progressing greatly,” she pointed out. “They brought the best out of you.”
“I don’t like the way you speak of me,” you snapped. “You don’t address me properly and you dare to insinuate my genes are not good enough to bear my husband’s offspring.”
Bene Gesserit smirked at you. She didn’t seem to care about your little outburst at all.
“However, it’s a boy,” she continued. “I mean, of course it is. I didn’t expect the Harkonnens to want anything else,” she added. “Your next one shall be a girl.”
“Excuse me?” You took a step back and clenched your jaw. “What I have next is my business. Mine and my husband’s, that is,” you placed your hand on your womb protectively.
“If you don’t give Feyd-Rautha a daughter, my Lady,” she emphasised ironically and you raised an eyebrow at her, “then I will.”
You nearly gasped at her insolence. Rage filled your whole body hearing her words. She threatened to lay with your husband? While she was inside your home?
“If you bewitch my husband, I will have you killed. I do not care about any of you,” you threatened her back.
“Your aunt promised us that you would be easy to control. As we both know, that is not true but we can let that slip. However, we will not give up on the promised daughter,” she explained calmly.
“Wh-what?” You stuttered out.
“Your aunt promised us that your first born daughter will be trained to become Bene Gesserit,” the woman answered and you felt a stinging pain in your chest.
Your aunt… whom you had never even met in your life. Of whom you had had no idea for most of your life. Yet she seemed to be the mastermind behind it all because of your grandfather’s sick ambitions to put his granddaughter on the Harkonnen throne. And your father… He passively had allowed that all to happen as Lady Jessica had cheered. 
“Is she here?” You barked at her. “My aunt? I want to talk to her.”
“The other sisters have left already, I’m afraid, na-baroness,” the woman told you. 
“If I have a daughter one day, I will not give her away to you witches,” you pointed your finger at her.
“There will be no need. She will stay here and I will train her,” she explained. “The Harkonnen countess would not be treated like a regular sister. Of course such powerful members have their privileges.”
“I still don’t want you near any of my children,” you told her angrily. “And I want you to stay away from Feyd.”
“You’re scared,” she smirked as she approached you, “because you know my poison is more effective than yours. I could really bind him to me in a way that is not accessible to you. You don’t hate us for witchcraft. You hate us because you’re not one of us,” she dared to whisper to you.
“I prefer holding less power but not being a blind follower of any idea nor force but myself and my own desires,” you answered proudly and straightened yourself.
You will obey me.
The loud and overwhelming voice boomed inside your head. You knew that voice very well. You had been growing up with it around.
“I will obey you,” you nodded and turned around to walk away but after a while you managed to fight this staggering sensation numbing your brain. “I will not,” you said.
“What did you say?” Bene Gesserit asked, surprised. You turned around to face her once again.
“I will not,” you repeated.
“How did you do that?” Her eyes widened.
“Growing up around Lady Jessica… You think I didn’t learn how to disobey your cursed voice?” You asked her with contempt. She didn’t have to know how much it costed you each time to be able to do that. You wanted her to think it was easy.
“That is impossible,” the woman shook her head. “You could not learn that by yourself.”
“Yet I did,” you shrugged your arms. “And no offence, but Lady Jessica was more powerful Bene Gesserit than you are.”
“Yes, she was,” she nodded. “That is why she was able to teach you this.”
“Teach me this?” You raised your eyebrow.
“Of course. Do you think you were able to master this ancient ability to fight The Voice by yourself? She had to teach you this. I only wonder why,” she hummed to herself.
Now you wondered, too. Perhaps some part of her wanted to protect you from whatever would come in the future. Perhaps some part of her cared about you.
And you hated to be grateful to her for anything but now you were.
“I might give you a daughter next,” you told the woman in front of you. “Having a powerful Bene Gesserit as my daughter can be useful,” you remembered Baron’s words. “But if you try to pit her against me or send her away to procreate with some gross lord far away from here, that is when I will intervene and you will regret this, witch,” you warned her.
She nodded.
“And if you touch my husband…”
“With all respect, I’d rather not touch him if I don’t have to, so just give us a daughter next,” she chuckled nervously.
You smiled at her. At first you were surprised hearing her words but then you remembered that most people did not see Feyd the way you were seeing him now. To them he was scary, unhinged and temperamental and his presence was deeply unsettling.
You left her in the corridor and went upstairs to your bedroom. You regretted not seeing your aunt because there were lots of things you’d love to tell her.
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Feyd joined you in the bedroom not long after. You were dressed in a nightgown already and sitting on the chair pulled away from his desk.
“What took you so long?” You asked him when the doors closed behind him.
“He gave Arrakis to me,” your husband informed you and stood above you as your eyes sparkled.
“What? He did?”
“Apparently Rabban is humiliating himself over and over there and embarrassing our family,” Feyd gritted his teeth. “I will be named the new Governor soon.”
“Well, that’s a gift I cannot possibly beat,” you teased and beckoned him over as he fell to his knees to be able to face you.
Feyd put his hands on your thighs as he opened them with his long fingers and you chuckled softly at him.
“Such an eager pet, aren’t you?” You teased him and he looked up. “That gift has to wait. Give me a knife,” you asked him.
He was confused but he handed you a short blade he was always carrying with himself.
“It’s so pretty,” you took a better look at the dagger in awe. It was really an excellent piece of work.
“Keep it,” your husband breathed out.
“But it’s your birthday, not mine,” you caressed his cheek gently.
“You need a weapon, too. I want you to keep it, just in case. When I’m not around and my uncle catches you in an empty room… For example,” he insisted.
“I don’t even know how to use it.”
“It’s a knife,” Feyd snorted. “You just stab.”
“Well, I guess. You can teach me more when I’m not with child anymore,” you proposed.
“I can,” he nodded and leaned in to place a kiss on your womb.
“So you do know how to kiss like that,” you teased and he looked caught off guard.
“I did it like you always do it… Did I do something wrong?” He asked and you swore, you could call him adorable in a way. You couldn’t believe it was the same man who had been slaughtering his enemies in the arena earlier.
“Aw, I’m only teasing. Give me your hand,” you ordered and he raised his arm as you slit one of the lines on his exposed palm. He didn’t even wince, so used to the pain much greater than this one. And he didn’t question anything you were doing either. It was almost sad, the way he obeyed you.
You watched his blood spilling down his pale skin; so dark and thick – it was nearly black and of a slimy texture. Then you cut yourself the same way, trying not to hiss out of pain as your own blood spilled, looking much healthier than his poisoned one.
You put the blade away and held his bleeding hand with yours to squeeze it tight. Feyd looked deep into your eyes, understanding the meaning of this gesture.
“I am yours and you are mine,” you told him. “Forever from now on. Your blood is my blood, my blood is your blood. We are one,” you whispered. “You do not exist without me and I do not exist without you. Together we will build our empire,” you continued and he nodded with a very serious expression on his face. There was pure admiration in his eyes, though. “We will not allow him to come between us.”
“We will kill him,” Feyd added angrily and you nodded at him. He was so eager.
“And everyone else in our way,” you assured him. “I shall be your anchor.”
“I shall be your blade,” he promised and you leaned down to join your lips together and mix your saliva like you mixed your blood.
You let go of his hand and straightened yourself, breaking the kiss. Feyd however brought your palm to his mouth and began to lick your wound as he drank the blood that spilled. Like dogs would lick their owners’ wounds.
“If I had known he’d give you Arrakis, I’d come up with a better gift,” you joked. Feyd looked up at you with your hand still pressed to his mouth, now stained with your blood.
“Nothing he’s ever given me can match you, my Baroness,” he confessed.
You smiled at him lovingly. It was a sight no one else in the world could admire – Feyd-Rautha on his knees, obedient and in awe. You finally opened your thighs in front of his face to give him what he had been waiting for since this morning. Most likely the gift he had been anticipating the most.
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MASTERLIST
1K notes · View notes
irndad · 2 days
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Hi, I’m so sorry, I searched for request guidelines and must be missing them so if this isn’t something you write I apologize-
Flower prompt heliotrope with Spencer where reader sacrifices herself/or gets shot to save Maeve so Spencer can be happy, even though she’s hopelessly in love with him. 🥹
Little angst, little fluff. You can decide if reader fully sacrifices or just gets really badly hurt and how Spencer reacts.
my dear!! there are no rules yet- i have things i won't fill but thus far the onus has been on me to clarify. i had so much fun writing this- thank you for requesting it!!! requests r open :^) wc: 1.1k
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“Is Maeve okay?”
It’s the first thing she says when she wakes up from her hospital bed. Spencer’s shaking, a little woozy too. It turns out that they have the same blood type, and she lost a whole fucking lot of it. He’d been happy to give it to her, although ‘happy’feels like the wrong word to use in this situation. 
She had internal bleeding, and collapsed harshly from the gunshot, scuffing her forehead so badly she needed stitches. Comparatively, it’s the least of her worries, but still- Spencer can’t stop staring at it. She’s literally marred by the choice she made to protect him. 
Maeve is okay. She’s in the same hospital, but Spencer’s spent about ten minutes with her- the rest of the last 12 hours of his life were spent oscillating between donating blood and praying to a deity he’s not sure exists. 
She’d survived. They’d both survived. He should feel relieved- why doesn’t he feel relieved?
It’s a stupid question that he keeps asking himself. Two of the most important people in his life are alive, but still in the moment, her blood spilling over him- the gasp of her breath when the bullet hit her- He’s going to remember the sound of it forever, what it sounded like for her to almost die for someone else. He hates that she’s the type of person to do it. To jump in front of a loaded gun for a woman she’s never met before. 
He’s mad at her. He has no right to be- he gets a chance with Maeve now, and that’s all due to the choice she made. And yet- he’s so, so angry at her. Because she could be dead right now. He could never, ever talk to her again. She made a choice that meant that he might have never been able to hear her voice, do a magic trick for her, ever, ever be near her again. How the fuck could she do that to him?
“Yes,” he replies, “she’s okay.”
She nods agreeably, before wincing at what appeared to be an intense ache at her temples. 
“My head hurts,” she says, her voice low and endearing, and his heart roars with protectiveness. “Do you think I could have a juice box?”
She’s so sweet- he wants to laugh, in a sad desperate kind of way. This is his favorite person in the world, sitting up shakily and asking for juice, clearly groggy and so endearing. He almost lost her. 
“You’re okay too,” he says, “If you’re wondering. You scared us. You had internal bleeding and a concussion. You lost a lot of blood.”
It’s only then she frowns. 
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she pouts, trying to sit up and speak to him. “But it all worked out, Spence. She’s okay.”
“It didn’t all work out!” Her eyes widen at his outburst, and he feels like scum. Yelling at her when she’s in a hospital bed, taking a bullet so he’d have a chance at romance. 
“You said she’s okay,” she says back, slowly. “I don’t understand.”
“You lost blood. You almost died. That is not it working out. You have to tell me you understand that.” He doesn’t know why he’s being so harsh, but he also doesn’t know why he has to explain this to her. 
“I know,” she sighs, “I know. But this is the job, and I didn’t have time to get a vest on!”
“Then you wait. You wait. You don’t just burst in-“
“And you would’ve lost the love of your life!”
“What makes you think she’s the love of my life?”
A nurse shuffles by the room and Spencer takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want to be kicked out of her room, and on some level he knows how crazy it is to be yelling at a gunshot victim. He pinches his nose, eyes winced in frustration. 
She’s been his favorite person by a wide margin for an incredibly long time. She joined the team as a consultant and he remembers the first time he did a card trick for her- the first time he’d fallen asleep on her shoulder. He was so grateful to know her. Still is. In this moment, knowing feels like time slipping out from an hourglass- like it was almost numbered. Their time was almost finished. 
Maeve was lovely. Maeve listened and she was kind and Spencer really did like her. He’s glad she’s safe, now. But his best friend, his coworker and favorite person- Spencer thought everyone could tell that he’s been in love with the team consultant since the first week he knew her. 
Everything he liked about Maeve reminded him of her. 
And she’d jumped in front of a bullet for someone she thought he was in love with. And fuck, maybe he did love her in some way- but whatever ‘in love’ meant with Maeve, this sorrow, the pain of knowing she’d almost been someone he’d have to remember was far, far deeper. 
“You’ve never mentioned anyone to me romantically. I’ve known you for years, Spencer. She’s important to you.”
Maeve is. She was. It’s all so confusing now. He has liked someone for years, though. He couldn’t tell her, though. Maeve was a welcome distraction from a love he thought was wholly impractical and impossible to love him back— a love that now he has to witness languish in a hospital bed. 
Morgan knew. Morgan would tease him every time Spencer drew a smiley face in purple marker on her coffee cup. He would tell him to just ask her out, and it had always felt so improbable. She’d never go for someone as lanky and uncharismatic as him. 
“You’re important to me.” 
She has no idea how much. 
Her eyes soften at that, and not for the first time, he wants to curl into her arms. He wants to lay next to her in the hospital bed, and feel her pulse beat against bare skin. Feel her pulse and with every beat know that she is alive. 
“I know that, Spence,” she breathes out.
Even though it’s not kosher, not necessarily the right thing to do when your not-girlfriend/girl you went on one date with is in the same hospital, but when his best friend opens up her arms for a hug, he ends up doing exactly what he wanted. 
The team finds her asleep in her hospital bed, with Spencer asleep in her arms. It feels voyeuristic to look at, but Spencer really, really couldn’t care. 
He resolved to tell her that he loves her as soon as she’s healed. With the way Morgan side eyes him every time he ‘helps’ her walk across a room by holding her waist, he’s not sure he’ll last that long. 
734 notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 2 days
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Hiiii!I hope your doing great I saw your requests just opened and I was wondering if you would mind doing a poly emt marauders with a reader that’s in hospital and they don’t know until they’re like bringing in someone in or something and their like why didn’t you tell us and she’s like oh cause I didn’t want you to worry.Something like that if not it’s fine have a good day!!!🌊
Thanks for requesting gorgeous! Not super sure if this is accurate since I don’t think paramedics usually spend much time inside the hospital but oh well haha. Hope you have a good day too! <3
cw: hospital/emergency room, mention of broken bone
emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 827 words
You’re just on your way out of A&E, feeling sore and shattered and more than a little sorry for yourself, when someone says your name. With an odd mix of relief and trepidation mingling in your chest, you turn. 
Sirius makes it to your first. He takes your face in his hands, eyes scanning it over thoroughly before starting to make their way down your body. “Baby, what’s happened?” 
“Hey,” you say, “what are you doing here?” 
“Um, no.” James gives you a funny-looking smile, amusement tangled up with worry. “It’s fairly normal for us to be here, what are you doing here?” 
“I, um—” 
“Idiots.” Remus bypasses them both, taking your injured hand gently and holding it up where your other boyfriends can see it. “What happened here, lovely?” 
“I broke my finger,” you admit. 
Sirius looks devastated, though with the splint binding your two fingers together you thought it was fairly obvious. “How?” 
“Shut it in my car door.” 
James winces and Remus tsks compassionately, turning your hand so he can see the injured digit from another angle. 
“How long have you been here?” he asks.
You shrug, not quite looking at any of them. “I had to wait a while. A few hours.” 
Remus’ look lets you know your sheepishness isn’t without good reason. “Did you drive yourself like this?” 
You nod meekly. 
“Angel!” James wraps his arms around you, tucking your head underneath his chin, and you go happily. You’ll take his mollycoddling over Remus’ reproachful stare any day. “Why didn’t you call us? I can’t believe you had to sit here all by yourself.” 
“I knew you were busy at work, and I didn’t want to worry you.” Now Sirius is glaring at you, too. You snuggle further into James’ embrace. “It wasn’t so bad.” 
“Did they have to set it?” Sirius asks. 
Your face heats. “Yeah. It was pretty weird-looking when it first happened.” 
James makes a pitiful whining sound. “Poor love.” 
“How long did they tell you it’d take to heal?” Remus’ voice sounds somewhat gentler now. He finally relinquishes your injured hand to Sirius, who starts turning it about and inspecting it in the same manner, like the doctor who splinted it for you might not have done a good enough job. 
“Six to eight weeks,” you say glumly. It already feels annoyingly constraining not being able to bend either of those fingers; you’re not sure how you’re supposed to deal with it for weeks on end. 
The boys exchange a look, and James drops the protective circle of his arms from around you. “I’m going to go find Amelia,” he says, “see if she’s on break.” 
You clutch at his shirt with your good hand. “Don’t leave me,” you whisper. 
Your boyfriend smiles, dropping a kiss on your head. “Sorry, lovie.” 
“I think we ought to feel insulted,” Sirius comments as James walks away. Remus only shrugs. 
He reaches for your face now that it’s not hidden under James’ chin, wiping frownily at something on your cheek. 
“Are you feeling alright now, dove?” he asks, and you veritably liquefy at the tenderness in his voice. 
“Yeah, I’m fine.” You shrug one shoulder lightly. “I’m sorry I didn’t call, but it really wasn’t awful.” 
Sirius gives your wrist an admonishing little squeeze. “You have tear marks on your face,” he contradicts you softly. 
“Oh.” You run a finger under your eyes, feeling your face heat. 
Remus tuts and lets his hand against the side of your neck, thumb stroking at your jaw. “We’re only on shift for another hour,” he tells you. “James is finding our friend Amelia so you can stay in the break room with her until we can come back and get you, okay?” 
You shake your head, and his stare hardens but you say anyway, “I don’t need to be babysat. I can get home on my own.” 
“You shouldn’t be driving after having anesthetic.” 
You narrow your eyes. “Wouldn’t they have told me if that were the case?” 
“We don’t want you driving with a numb hand,” Sirius clarifies. When you turn your attention to him, he gives you a stern look. “You should have called us in the first place. Just let us do what we can for you now, okay?” 
You sigh in resignation just as James comes up behind you again. Seeing as no one has taken over hug duty, he wraps both arms around your waist, setting his chin on your shoulder. 
“Okay,” you tell Sirius. 
“Oh, excellent. All on the same page, are we?” James turns his head to smooch your cheek. “Knew you’d come around, angel. Amelia’s ready for you, so you can hang in the break room until we get back.” 
“Is she going to baby me too?” you joke, letting him steer you towards the hallway. 
“Probably not,” Sirius says, “but don’t you worry, sweetness. We’ll make up for that when we get you home.” 
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girlgenius1111 · 18 hours
Text
all of my pain and all your excuses
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part 2 of family line ingrid arrives home, and realizes how much she's missed with her sister. her and mapi try to figure out how to put the pieces back together. r struggles with the mess inside her head. cw: mommy issues galore 🙃 mentions of poor mental health. solstråle continues to be sad.
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It took you a few minutes of crying into Mapi before you realized what she’d probably done. At this realization, you pulled away from her in a panic, practically falling onto the ground. 
“Mapi, please don’t tell Ingrid about this, please please, you can’t, she’ll be so mad, she’s already mad, I can’t,” your gasps for air cut your words off and Mapi took your face in between her hands. 
“Breathe. In and out pequeña. Just breathe.” She instructed, dramatically exaggerating her own breaths. 
“Please, Mapi,” you whimpered after a minute. 
“I’m sorry, nena, I had to. I had to.” She said, seemingly begging you to believe her that she’d had no other choice. You couldn’t really blame her; you’d gotten yourself here, after all. You’d written the letter. You’d meant every word you’d said, and every word you didn’t quite have the guts to say. You’d collapsed into her arms. You’d given her no choice. 
“I’m really scared,” you mumbled. 
Mapi pulled you back in, tucking your face easily into her chest. “I know. You don’t need to be, but I know you are. Everything is going to be alright. I promise you.” 
You wrapped yourself tight around the defender, hoping with everything in you that she was right. 
When Ingrid burst through the front door, eyes immediately finding you on the couch, crumpled up into a little ball in Mapi’s lap, she knew it was bad. Mapi was holding you so tightly, expression unreadable when she glanced up at Ingrid, murmuring inaudible words in your ear. You looked so small, visibly trembling in your baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants, Mapi’s arms engulfing you. Ingrid practically ran to your side, sitting as carefully as she could next to the both of you. 
“María, what..?” Ingrid asked, trailing off when Mapi silently held out a piece of paper to her. Ingrid took it, having no idea what she was about to read. Having no idea what she was about to feel. 
You were hiding your face in Mapi’s sweater, much too distraught to care about how pathetic you probably seemed. You’d heard Ingrid enter, and you knew it was just a matter of time before you had to leave your safe little bubble and confront this. When it had been silent for too long, and you knew Ingrid must be done reading by now, you shifted away from Mapi. It was time to be brave, and it was time to take whatever was coming your way. 
The look on your sister’s face made you want to take it all back. Because, fuck, you weren’t sure your happiness was worth making Ingrid this upset. She was scanning over the paper over and over, as if she was hoping the contents would change with each reread. 
You acted stronger than you felt, sliding off Mapi’s lap and moving a bit closer to Ingrid. She didn’t look away from the letter. 
“I’m sorry.” You said quietly. 
Your sister’s head snapped up to look at you so rapidly, you almost jumped. 
“Solstråle,” Ingrid began, and you felt like the last stable part of you broke sharply at the nickname. Sunbeam, it meant. Ingrid had called you that your whole life. Her sunbeam, always breaking through the clouds to shine a bit of light. She’d assumed you’d grown out of it, recently. You looked so small, though, so scared and so desperately sad, that it just slipped out. She didn’t regret it, not when you practically fell towards her. “Oh, honey.” 
If you were crying with Mapi just minutes before, you were bawling now. Hysterical, hyperventilating cries that were painful to hear, and painful to let out, but somehow so cathartic. Ingrid pulled you into her, beginning to cry herself. 
When Ingrid spoke, it was in Norwegian, and nothing had ever sounded so safe. “I am so sorry, my perfect baby sister, I am so so sorry. I love you. I love you, I love you. More than anything in this world, I love you.” 
And though you still cried, you relaxed marginally at the comfort hearing her speak in your native language brought you. You relaxed, going completely limp against your sister. You probably would have slid off her onto the ground if she hadn’t had her arms wrapped around you so tight. Ingrid wasn’t sure she’d ever let you go. You weren’t sure you wanted her to.
-------
Ingrid stood in your doorway, eyes fixed on your sleeping form. She’d brought you up to bed, carrying you like she used to when you were little. You’d fallen asleep on her downstairs, and she hadn’t dared to move you for a while. She and Mapi sat in a rather stunned silence for a while, before Mapi suggested she bring you up to bed. So, Ingrid tucked you in, pulling the covers up to your chin the way she knew you liked them. She noticed something tucked under one of your pillows, and carefully pulled it out. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the plush polar bear in her hand. Snø. She’d given him to you when you were three, for your birthday. She thought you’d stopped sleeping with him, but apparently not. The thought that you’d pulled him out of your closet for some comfort upon arriving in Spain made tears flood Ingrid’s eyes. She carefully kissed your forehead before rushing out of the room, almost colliding with her girlfriend. 
“Oof,” Mapi grunted, steadying Ingrid, when she caught sight of the other womans’ face. “Amor,” 
Ingrid shook her head, wiping harshly at her eyes, and pushed past Mapi towards their bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she pulled the folded letter out of her pocket, smoothing it out, and began to read it. Again. Mapi had followed her into the room, and took the paper out of her girlfriend’s hands. 
“Give it back.” Ingrid said through clenched teeth. She sounded angry, but Mapi saw the tears in her eyes and knew better. 
“No, you’ve already read it.” Mapi said firmly. 
“María, give it back, I need to read it again.” 
“Mi amor, it's just going to hurt more, and you don’t need that right now.”
“Yes I do,” Ingrid cried. “I do, she’s been hurting like this for god knows how long. Wanting to–” She cut herself off, shaking her head almost frantically. “She said she felt like no one would care if she was gone. Reading this hurts but it is nothing compared to what she has been feeling, and it is all my fault, so let me read it so I can fix this, because I need to fix this, I can’t lose her, María, I can’t lose her.” Ingrid was sobbing by the end, making little to no sense, and Mapi placed her hands on Ingrid’s cheeks, forcing her to make eye contact. She noticed in that moment that while you looked alike normally, you looked just like Ingrid when you cried. 
It wasn’t enough, though, Ingrid was crying so hard, every sob shattered a part of Mapi that she hadn’t known existed. She climbed onto the bed, pulling Ingrid with her, guiding the younger woman’s head onto her chest. Ingrid clutched at Mapi’s shirt almost desperately, muffling her sobs there too, although her body shook heavily with the force of them. Her world was falling down around her, and it was all she could do to hold onto her María, and not let go. 
“I know, mi princesa, I know.” Mapi murmured, running her fingers through Ingrid’s thick hair. “You aren’t going to lose her. We aren’t going to lose her. We’ll fix it.” 
“I don’t know how to fix it,” Ingrid whimpered. Mapi tilted the Norwegian’s head up, until Ingrid was looking at her once again. 
“That’s okay, mi amor. You don’t need to have all the answers now. We’ll figure it out together. For now, just be her sister. Not her parent. Just be her sister, and if you don’t know what else to say, tell her you love her.” 
Ingrid nodded pitifully, scooting up and cramming her face into the crook of Mapi’s neck.
“Thank you. For helping her and for texting me and for being so perfect. You’re always so perfect.” Ingrid mumbled. 
“I’ll be perfect for you any day. I love you, and I love your sister. Now relax, mi princesa. Relax, breathe, calm down. We’re going to be okay.” 
And like you had earlier, Ingrid hoped with everything in her that Mapi was right about this. 
-------
Ingrid and Mapi fell silent the minute you walked into the kitchen the next morning. They’d been talking about you, clearly, and they looked at you nervously the minute you were in sight. You’d woken up irritated, though, as you sometimes did, feeling like your blood was boiling, as if one wrong thing would set you off. You wished you had more control than that, but you knew the minute you heard your sister’s voice, you would fly off the handle. Because this morning? You weren’t sad. You were furious. 
The room was a complete contradiction to how you were feeling. Ingrid and Mapi’s home was bright with sunlight, and warm with color. They were both holding matching coffee mugs, and looking at you with matching concerned expressions, and all of it made you want to scream. Why did Ingrid get to have this perfect life, and you didn’t? Why did she get to be happy so easily, and you didn’t? 
You were lost in your thoughts, taking the coffee Mapi handed you with a quiet thank you. The kitchen was uncomfortably silent. 
“Hi, solstråle. How are you feeling this morning?” Ingrid piped up. You clenched your jaw. How did she think you were feeling?
“Fine.” You snapped. 
Ingrid remained quiet and soothing when she spoke next, and it made you even angrier. “Honey, last night,”
“I don’t really feel like talking about it right now.” You said harshly, cutting her off. Ingrid tensed, trying to keep her reaction in check. 
“I’m sorry, solstråle, but that is not an option. We need to talk about what happened, we can’t wait on that.” Ingrid insisted, voice measured. 
Still it was like she’d hit you. Your head snapped up, your features contorted with rage, and you set your coffee down dangerously softly, glaring at your sister. “Oh now we have to? Now we have to talk about it? I’ve been here for 6 fucking months Ingrid. It took you months to realize something was wrong, and you didn’t even realize! I had to write it out for you. You told me last night that you love me, that you want me here, well then why didn’t you fucking show it before now! I said I don’t want to talk today and I meant that.” You yelled. 
Ingrid shook her head, her hands clenching tight into fists. “Do not yell at me. I am trying to help. I understand that you’re hurt, and that you’re upset, but-” 
You scoffed loudly then, interrupting her, and Ingrid got visibly more frustrated with you, her lips turning down into a disapproving frown. 
“You can’t-” 
“Ingrid, just take a sec.” Mapi cut in, her soft voice a sharp contrast to how you and your sister had been conversing. “Nena, we do need to talk, but it doesn’t have to be now. Let’s just all take a breath.” 
Ingrid was shocked when you slowly nodded your head and took a step back from her, inhaling deeply. It was like magic; she’d never seen an argument that you were involved in get de-escalated so quickly.  
“Go get your homework, okay? You’re coming with us to training.” Ingrid said after a minute. There was no room for argument in her words, and you fought against another surge of anger, fought the urge to yell. 
“Is this because of what I wrote?” You asked evenly. Ingrid and Mapi exchanged glances. 
“Listen, nena, we just want to keep an eye on you.” Mapi told you, realizing that you were a lot less reactive when she spoke to you than when Ingrid did. 
“I know what I said. I wasn’t going to do anything, though. Really. I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t do that to you.” You defended quietly. 
Mapi felt Ingrid’s hand slide into hers and grip tight. I wouldn’t do that to you, you’d said. Not I wouldn’t do that, period. Everytime she thought about what you’d written, Ingrid felt a wave of nausea wash over her. She wasn’t sure what would have happened if Mapi hadn’t gotten home when she did. She wasn’t sure how close she’d come to losing you. She was so scared. 
Ingrid had never been good at letting you see how she was feeling, and maybe that was why, until this point, you’d gone out of your way to hide your own emotions from her. She decided to take Mapi’s advice from the night before. Just be her sister. Not her parent. Just be her sister, and if you don’t know what else to say, tell her you love her. 
Ingrid approached you like she was worried you would lash out at her, which may have been fair. When you made no move to step away from her, she carefully stood directly in front of you, and put her hands on your shoulders. 
“What you wrote really scared me. I’m not mad, solstråle, I’m just really scared. And I trust you, I do, but if I left you here alone, I would just worry, and we haven’t talked yet, and I have no idea what you’re thinking other than the things you said on that piece of paper. So it would make me feel a lot better if you came with us to training today.” 
You blinked up at her for a minute, before you slowly nodded your head. “Okay. I guess that’s fair.” 
Ingrid seemed equally as surprised as you did, removing her hands from your shoulders, and gesturing for you to go get your bag. Once you’d disappeared from the room, she turned back to her girlfriend, who had a ridiculous grin on her face. 
“Look! You communicated! Like a real human being!” Mapi joked, opening her arms. Ingrid instantly melted into the hug, though she scowled at her girlfriend’s teasing. 
“I communicate.” She said stubbornly. 
“Sometimes,” Mapi allowed. “You’ve definitely gotten better. And you’ll keep getting better because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you as determined as you are right now to make sure that your solstråle is okay.” Mapi whispered, kissing the side of Ingrid’s head. 
“My solstråle.” Ingrid smiled. “I started calling her that when she was 3, and she had this shirt with a sun on it. I told her I liked it once, and whenever she saw me sad after that, she’d run off to put the shirt on and come show me. I called her my little solstråle. My sunbeam. She used to be so smiley, María. So happy. She’s so different now.” Very quickly, the smile faded from Ingrid’s face and she held Mapi closer to her. 
“It’s all gonna be okay, mi princesa,” Mapi promised. 
You cleared your throat from the doorway, then, and your sister and her girlfriend sprung apart, blushing like high schoolers caught in an awkward position. “Are you guys done making out?” 
“We weren’t making out,” Ingrid groaned, as you all headed towards the door. 
“No, we only make out after training,” Mapi said seriously.
You made a fake retching sound, Ingrid slapped her girlfriend in the arm, and Mapi laughed to herself, but the tension was broken. And you had smiled, a real smile. Ingrid didn’t care what she had to say to see you smile again, she’d do it. 
--------
As was the norm when you went to training, the younger girls immediately latched onto you, yanking you away from Ingrid and pulling you into some scheme to get back at Mapi for the prank she’d pulled on them last week. It was the usual suspects; Pina,Vicky, Salma, and a couple others pulling you from the room, already giggling. They kindly didn’t say anything about the bruising and cuts on your face, and for that you were grateful, although you did get a few raised eyebrows from the older players. Ingrid watched you go anxiously, only turning her attention away from the door you’d walked out of when Mapi squeezed her hand.
“She’ll be fine.” Mapi promised. Ingrid nodded, but she didn’t stop worrying. And when Mapi went off to work in the gym herself, the Norwegian had no one to pull her out of her head. 
She worried all through the gym session, paying very little attention to what she was supposed to be doing. Which wasn’t normal for Ingrid, and it caught the attention of pretty much everyone. 
Ingrid was staring intently at where you were sitting against the wall in the shade, working on your homework, when Alexia and Frido approached. 
“Everything okay, Engen?” Alexia asked. 
“Yep.” Ingrid said distractedly. 
“What did our dear solstråle do this time?” Frido joked, having known your sister long enough to know precisely why you were living with her. Alexia knew, too, and smiled, joining in on the joke. Until Ingrid’s eyes inexplicably filled with tears, and she turned away from you, wiping harshly at her face. 
“Ingrid? What happened?” Frido wondered, running a hand up and down the Norwegian’s arm, while Alexia looked around anxiously, searching for anyone, anyone on earth, that would be better at dealing with whatever was going on than she would be. 
“It’s a long story.” Ingrid said, her voice cracking. Frido and Alexia exchanged looks, before the captain turned to Jona across the pitch. 
“Ingrid needs her ankle taped!” She shouted, before leading both women off the pitch. Jona nodded knowingly, despite the fact that Ingrid hadn’t done anything to her ankle, and it was rather odd for 2 entire people to accompany her to tape it. Jona knew that Alexia wouldn’t be asking for a minute for Ingrid if she didn’t think it was necessary. 
Ingrid let them pull her into the locker room, rather desperate for some advice and some honesty. Because Mapi loved her too much to tell her how badly she’d really messed up, and both Frido and Alexia were known to be brutally honest. She needed brutal honesty right now. No matter how much it hurt.
-------
You were busy struggling through an essay you were supposed to be writing entirely in Spanish when Frido sat down next to you. One look at her face told you she knew exactly what was going on. You weren’t that surprised. She was your sister’s best friend, and you’d known her for a long time. If there was anyone that Ingrid was going to talk to, it would be Frido. 
Frido always spoke to you in Norwegian, a thing you were endlessly grateful for. It instantly put you at ease, and today was no different, as she tugged playfully at your ear.
“How is my favorite Norwegian?” She asked. 
“I know you already asked your second favorite Norwegian.” You replied jokingly. 
“Why would I ask Caro how you are?” Frido deadpanned. 
You threw your head back, laughing loudly, and Frido grinned, continuing on to tell any and every joke she could think of. 
Ingrid watched from the doorway of the building, and when Mapi turned the corner and saw her watching the two of you, she knew exactly what her girlfriend was thinking. 
Ingrid saw Mapi coming, though, and forced a smile onto her face. “How was the gym?” She asked. 
“Fine. I was distracted though. How is she doing?” Mapi replied, nodding in your direction. 
“Well. She’s joking around with Frido. So, better I assume.” Ingrid said evenly. 
“She’s joking with Frido because Frido speaks her language, and she trusts her, and she didn’t just get into a screaming match with Frido. Frido didn’t read a letter containing her most upsetting feelings. She loves you, Ingrid, she just needs time.” Mapi assured her. Ingrid kissed her cheek softly, very appreciative that her girlfriend always knew what she needed. 
“What if she doesn’t want to talk when we get home?” Ingrid asked, after another minute. 
Mapi sounded wiser than normal when she spoke. Ingrid wasn’t used to her being the voice of reason in their relationship, but she appreciated that the defender always stepped up, and was always willing to be what Ingrid needed. “What happened last night was a big thing. She needs to process, and she needs to take her time with it. She’ll talk when she’s ready. And until then, we keep an eye on her, we give her hugs, and we tell her that we love her, vale?” 
“Okay.” Ingrid agreed. It was going to be a long and difficult evening of not suffocating you with questions, it seemed. She’d do it, though, if it was what you needed. Ingrid thought that she would probably quit football or cut off one of her limbs if that was what you needed. 
-------
You didn’t talk much the rest of the day, as Mapi predicted, and as Ingrid feared. Your sister did her best not to push you, and was mostly successful. Mapi kept the conversation going, able to talk about nothing for hours. She knew exactly which topics to discuss and which to avoid, and she knew how to make both you and Ingrid laugh until your stomachs hurt. Thank god for Mapi. 
You were… relatively alright. Until later that evening, when you got up to head upstairs to finish some homework. You’d accidentally picked up Ingrid’s phone thinking it was yours, and saw a few texts from your mom to her. All about how much she missed Ingrid, how she was thinking of her, how she made Ingrid’s favorite for dinner that night. Nothing about you. You put it back down silently, grabbed your phone, and tried not to think about it, to no avail.
Instead of doing your homework, you sat on the floor of your room, thinking of the fact that your mom had missed your birthday, and not even noticed. Ingrid had, too, but she’d apologized over and over, and she’d promised to take you shopping over the weekend, and to dinner. Ingrid was trying. Your mother hadn’t tried in a while. 
You didn’t realize you were crying until Mapi knocked on the door to say goodnight. She peaked in, frowning when she saw the fresh tears on your cheeks. 
“Hey,” she said softly, carefully lowering herself to the ground next to you, minding her knee. She texted Ingrid to come upstairs, and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “I’m not going to ask if you’re okay, because I know that you aren’t. But Ingrid and I love you. Ingrid and I want you here. Ingrid and I are gonna fix things, and that is a promise.” 
You registered the words, though you didn’t believe them. Still, you gave Mapi a watery smile and leaned into her a bit. Ingrid’s footsteps were quiet in the hall, but you recognized that she was walking faster than normal. She appeared at your door, then, giving Mapi a meaningful look, and took Mapi’s place, sliding down onto the floor next to you. You pulled your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them and holding tight. It looked as if you were trying to physically hold yourself together. 
“Hey, solstråle,” Ingrid said softly. You murmured a greeting, not moving your chin from your knees, and not turning your gaze towards your sister either. It was quiet for a minute before Ingrid prompted you. “Talk to me, please.” 
You sighed, a tear rolling down your cheek. “‘I just miss Mom.” You said finally. 
Ingrid’s chest squeezed uncomfortably. You were so stubborn, so willful, sometimes she forgot you were just a kid. Just an 18 year old kid living in a foreign country, who missed her mom. “Do you want to call her?” She asked, not very confident in the suggestion, but not really sure what else to say. 
You instantly shook your head. “No. She doesn’t want to talk to me.” 
“Kjære, of course she does,” Ingrid began, but she wasn’t really sure. Your parents were so different, now. And whenever Ingrid called her mom, she never asked about you. She only wanted to hear about Ingrid. Your sister wasn’t stupid, she knew she was their favorite, but she didn’t expect them to write you off completely when you moved to Spain. They seemed happier, now. Without you there. It was something Ingrid couldn’t understand. Neither could you, really, but you had long accepted it. 
“No she doesn’t. I stopped calling her, just to see. 2 months ago. She hasn’t called me once. She doesn’t want me, anymore, Ingrid. I know I was an accident, but if they were going to hate me for ruining their early retirement plans, I don’t know why they didn't just…” 
Ingrid was speechless. At a loss for words, and so so angry. You filled the silence, though, things you’d never said out loud falling out of your mouth like you couldn’t help it. 
“I miss what mom was like before, when I was younger. When you were still at home. I miss that mom. I don’t miss the one that I could call right now.” 
“I don’t understand,” Ingrid said quietly, her hand resting on your head, and pulling you closer to her. 
“Ingrid, I know mom is always nice to you, but,” 
“No, solstråle. I don’t understand her. How she could bring someone so perfect into this world and not want to spend the rest of her life watching you grow up. I’ll never forgive her for how she’s made you feel, and I’ll never forgive myself for not noticing earlier. I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it better. I promise you.” 
“Thanks, Ing.” You mumbled, looking up at her for a minute before resting your head on her shoulder. 
The problem was, Ingrid could tell you didn’t believe her. She could see it in your eyes; they were still so guarded and so hurt. You were still angry with her, she knew. You thought she just felt guilty, and eventually she would go back to how she was before. Ingrid didn’t know how to make you believe what she felt and what she told you. She worried so deeply that she wouldn’t be able to. That too much damage had been done, and that maybe she wouldn’t be able to fix it. Late at night, early in the morning, right in the middle of a match, she worried about that. All the time until it consumed her, and all she wanted to do was sit with you, and promise you over and over that she loved you more than anything on this planet. What if you never believed her? 
-------
doesn't everyone feel so much better now!
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ellecdc · 2 days
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hi!!!!
id love to see a poly!marauders where the reader is muggle born or atlest muggle raised , reader and remus just bond over muggle stuff while the others sit there all confused asking wtf they’re talking about
like music, technology, maybe certain foods, certain slang and books the wizard world doesn’t have.
(ps i love ur blog and everything you write plz keep it up❤️)
hahaha awe so cute - here's a sweet little scene, and thanks for your request <33
poly!marauders x gn!reader who is muggle born
James was not too proud to admit he was rather upset.
And by upset, he meant jealous, terribly jealous. And desperate, so unbelievably desperate. And also sort of pissed off.
The cause of such upset, you might wonder?
Oh, only one of his own sodding boyfriends, of course.
You see, it had been his idea to start chatting with you in order to see where things could go - you know, romantically - between the four of you.
Sirius was eager - which would seem very out of character for the notoriously territorial and stand-offish Black who was wary of anyone interfering with their already established dynamic - but Sirius was equally as enamoured with you as James was from your shared classes and your few interactions around the castle.
Of course - as would be expected - it was Moony that the two of them had to persuade to consider you in earnest. 
“Come on, Moons. Don’t tell me you’re worried that you won’t be the smartest one in the relationship anymore.” Sirius had teased, earning him a glare from the werewolf. 
But of course, James (and Sirius) had been right, and Remus was practically immediately taken with you after James had officially introduced you to his boyfriends at a Gryffindor party. 
It was perhaps very helpful that you happened to be muggle born seeing as Remus had a muggle parent himself, so he was able to bond with you over various muggle things.
And James thought that was wonderful! Truly!
Really.
He honestly did.
But...well, did you guys have to talk about it all of the time!?
And it’s not that James didn’t like you talking about muggle things, or that he didn’t like muggle things in general.
What he didn’t like was that he couldn’t participate in the conversation at all.
And James is sorry, but what in the buggering fuck was a ‘vee sea are’?
James tuned back into the conversation when he began recognizing some of the words you and Remus were saying, though Sirius looked no less confused than he had previously.
“My favourite is probably The Sound of Music.” You admitted somewhat bashfully, features painted with a shy smile as you looked at Remus through your eyelashes.
James didn’t know what you were so shy about, especially considering Remus was beaming at you in response. “Me too!” He agreed readily.
“I love the sound of music!” James chimed in readily, earning him a surprise look from you, a curious look from Remus, and a bemused look from Sirius. 
“Do you really?” You asked sweetly, offering him a hopeful smile.
“I didn’t know you’d ever heard of it.” Remus added quietly.
James scoffed. “Oh, come off it Moons. Of course I love the sound of music! It’s arguably one of my favourite sounds ever!” 
“Awe.” You said sympathetically as Remus barked a laugh.
James looked at the two of you in confusion before he turned to Sirius in hopes for an answer. 
“I don’t know how Prongsie, seeing as they never really asked a question.” Sirius started, placing a reassuring hand on his thigh and squeezing gently, “But I think you got the answer wrong.”
James harrumphed and fell back into his chair, feeling thoroughly dejected. 
“I’m sorry Jamie.” You apologized, looking particularly distraught at having caused James any grief. “We can talk about something else, if you’d like.”
James waved you off quickly. “No, no. I’m sorry, sweets. It doesn’t matter to me what you talk about, as long as I get to continue hearing the sound of your lovely voice, arguably my second favourite sound ever.” 
James may not know what sounds of music you had been talking about, but he was proud that he did know how to make you blush something fierce with nothing but a few simple words. 
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i'll look after you | charles leclerc
prompt: everyone close to y/n is worried. she doesn't eat or drink enough and those are two extremely important things, especially this weekend. she will be racing in qatar at all time high temps. most worried is her best friend and teammate lando and secret boyfriend charles leclerc
warnings: discussions about not eating/ taking care of self, angst, fluff, cursing, injury, throwing up?, fear, fluff
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No one expected Qatar to be so hot. Y/n stepped off of the plane, sweatshirt and sweatpants immediately causing her to sweat. She put her sunglasses on. “Who would’ve thought it would be this hot in the morning?” 
Her teammate Lando Norris responded, “Not me.” He pulled at the front of his black t-shirt. She wiped the sweat off of her forehead before climbing into a car.  “Hey.” He tugged on her sleeve to get her attention.
“Yeah?” She looked away from the window. 
“Are you alright?” He frowned. “You’ve just been off. You seem tired and-” He looked down at her figure, “have you been eating enough and drinking? If it's this hot on Sunday you’re gonna need to be fully nourished.”
“I’ve made the weigh-ins every weekend, so don’t worry, I’ll get us points.” She snapped.
“That's not why I’m worried.” He shook his head. “I want you to be alright.” 
The start of the weekend had been more peaceful than usual. Media had less sexist questions, the car felt good, and y/n had been more open to eating. She kept her head down as she went to her first meeting after FP3. She sat across from her trainer as he slid her a vegetable plate across the table. “Eat.”
“You’re wasting my time.” She glared at him. “I thought this was an actual meeting.”
“It is.” He nodded. “I need you to eat and drink as much as possible these next few days. This race is going to be so hot, you’ll lose a lot of water and a lot of weight. I know how serious you are about your racing and with your lap times these past three practices you have a good chance at qualifying front row.”
She sighed, staring down at an unappetizing plate. 
“Just take it to your driver's room with you and take a cold shower.” He pleaded.
“Okay. I will.” Y/n agreed. As she stood up her phone pinged. 
Charles: Come to my room?
                                                           Y/n: Sure.
She managed to subtly sneak herself into Ferrari hospitality and into Charles’ drivers room. “Hi.” She smiled shyly.
“Hi.” He hugged her before kissing her lightly on the cheek. 
“Lucky, you’ve gotten to shower.” She smelled his freshly washed hair, a comforting smell. She watched him as he glanced at the plate of food in her hand. 
“Let's eat.” He smiled, grabbing the plate from her and placing it on a table, ushering her to sit. 
“I’m not very hungry…” She breathed. “I would really love a shower though.” 
“We’ll shower after I see you eat a bit.” 
She took a bite of celery with hummus. Charles brushed a piece of her hair behind her hair, his movements so faint it tickled. He had convinced her to eat a few more vegetables before she decided it was time to wash herself off. He stood up with her, hand on her waist, ready to guide her to the bathroom. “Is it okay if I shower alone?” She whispered, touching his hand. “I’m just really tired and I need a cold shower and I know how you feel about those.”
Excuses to keep him away. “That’s fine.” He smiled. She smiled back at him, a hint of a sparkle. “Can we talk about something after you get out?”
“What is it?” Her smile flickered.
“M’just worried about you.” He cupped her face in his hands. “This is going to be a tough race.”
“Why are you acting like I can’t do it?” Y/n shook her head, feeling betrayed.
“It’s not that you can’t do it! It’s that you’re not taking care of yourself!”
“Whatever, Charles.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m going to shower and I hope you clear your head while I’m in there.” Y/n washed herself, feeling a relief as the cold droplets of water relieved her hot skin. Her head drooped as she tried not to fall asleep cleaning her face. She slowly pulled on a white blouse with jean shorts, easing them onto her achy limbs. She pulled her hair into a braid, knowing the heat outside would dry it within minutes. Charles had passed out on the couch, y/n tiptoed around looking for her shoes.
“Baby…” He mumbled, slowly waking up, “Where are you going?”
She placed a quick kiss on his lips. “I’ve got to go get some sleep before qualifying tomorrow.” 
He grabbed her waist before she could walk away. “I thought I was bringing you to the hotel.”
“Charles.” She tensed.
“What?” He sat up, offended.
“I’m stressed and the idea of us being seen together makes me even more stressed.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” Charles’ brows furrowed.
“I didn’t mean it like that and you know it.” 
“Are you sure about that?” He frowned.
“I have to go. I love you and I’ll text you later.” She walked away, shooing off his insecurities. 
The next day, Y/n had made it to Q3 and was starting in third the next day. She was disappointed she didn’t make the front row, but shrugged it off. Lando had pulled her into a hug before she hit the media pin. “Congrats!” He rubbed a hand on her back.
“Thank you.” She hugged him back. 
“You’re very hot…” He moved his hand to her face. “Here, take the rest of my water.” He forced it into her hand, knowing she didn’t drink water enough throughout the day.
“Thanks.” She accepted it, immediately taking a sip. Lando's eyes widened, surprised at her immediate acceptance. She stood outside the media pin and chugged Lando's water, searching for a cooling feeling. She felt a cold towel brace her neck and groaned at the relief. She turned around to see who had applied it and watched as Charles winked before entering the media chaos, no hard feelings from the night before. She followed shortly after.
After an hour of answering cryptic questions, denying answers about her personal life, and bragging about her grid-place she was able to escape. Charles waited for her to get out of meetings and strolled next to her. “Can I come to your room tonight?” She asked.
“Trying to distract me from the fact you’re starting a place behind me?” He joked.
“Just nervous…” She fiddled with her rings. “And you always help with my nerves.”
“Of course you can come to my room, Y/n.” He affirmed. “Always.” A wave of relief flooded over him when he realized he could monitor her closely. 
Y/n walked down the hall to his room and knocked on the door. It was quickly opened and she was greeted with a kiss on the lips and a glass of water. “It’s freezing in here.” She shivered. 
“Sorry.” He wrapped a hand around her waist. “Y’know who I saw today?” He looked down at her.
“Who?” She held eye contact, his watercolor eyes gleaming. His eyes grounded her onto this earth. 
“I saw Daniel after qualifying.”
“How is he?”
“He thinks he might be given the opportunity to take over De Vries’ position at Alpha Tauri.”
Her eyes widened. “Jeez.”
“Yeah it’s rough.” He shook his head. The couple continued their chit chat as y/n slowly tucked herself into his bed. Charles sat on the other side of the bed, pulling out a carton of strawberries. “Here.” He gestured her to open her mouth and slowly fed her the fruit. 
“God, that's good.” Her eyes fluttered.
“You need to request some for your room next time.” He smiled. Her mouth formed a line as she delved deeper under the covers, turning the lamp on her nightstand off. She kept her eyes closed for a couple of minutes before feeling Charles’ arms wrap around her. She nuzzled her face into the nape of his neck. “I love you.” He mumbled.
“I love you too.” 
Y/n pulled on a Mclaren shirt and a pair of jeans. “Fuck.” Charles cursed. “What is it?” She folded her collar before checking on him.
“It’s going to be over 100 degrees in that car tonight.”
“It’ll be fine.” She shrugged.
“Do you know how hot that is?” His face was deadpan.
“I’ll figure it out.” She joked.
“No. You’ll drink water and you’re going to eat breakfast with me so I know you eat before the race.”
“Calm down.” She folded her sleeping shirt, breathily laughing.
“This isn’t a joke you could seriously get hurt.”
“Okay.” She played along with his seriousness.
Charles had watched her eat breakfast before they got to track and he had to say his goodbyes. They did their pre-race ritual together. She hugged him, racing suit tied at her waist, his tied the same way. “Be mindful today.” He whispered into her ear. “Be safe.” He reaffirmed.
“You too, Charlie.” She kept a hand in his hair. 
“I have to go.” He kissed her quickly. “I love you no matter what.
“I love you.” She tugged at his hand before letting him go. 
Y/n’s engineer came to see her in the car before the race started. “Drink. That's all I ask of you.” He fastened the bottle of water into the car. “If you begin to feel sick at all, radio us. It is going to be up to 120 degrees in that car, we are not going to blame you for any safe moves. We want you to be safe.” He gave her gloved hand a squeeze. She nodded, pulling her visor down.
She had a good start to the race, keeping her starting position. 10 laps in she called in.
“The visor is super foggy, guys. It’s sweaty in here!” She half-joked.
“Try to wipe it when possible.” Someone responded.
After 40 laps she was told to pit. 
“Pit.Pit.”
“Okay.” Her breath was shaky. “Yeah, the hard tyres wore out pretty quickly.” She tried straightening out her breathing patterns. Drink. She tried to will herself, but her body wouldn’t do it. It was too focused on other things.  She had dropped down to fourth place, behind Lance Stroll. “My seat feels like it’s on fire!”
“Do you need to retire?” Zak responded.
“No, just throw some water on me or something!” 
It was lap 56, two laps left and she had caught up to Lance. 
“He’s struggling on these corners.”
“Be careful around him.” Her engineer radioed. “Something must be wrong, he’s acting erratically.”
She was able to overtake him.
Lap 57. Last lap. Last turn. Y/n reached the final straight.
“P3, P3!” People cheered over the comms, but she swore it was muffled. Everything was blurry as she pulled into the space dedicated to 3rd. She noticed her lover's red car in 2nd and Max Verstappens in first. Charles took his helmet and balaclava off, shaking  the hand of Max. The commentator waiting for interviews began to grow concerned when the third driver had still not gotten out of her car. He whispered around and soon enough word got around to the drivers. She reached her hand up to grasp onto the halo, but fell short.
“Y/n.” Charles peered into the car.
“Yes?” She wheezed. “Just-Just give me a minute-to-get out…” She began to grab at the car again. Multiple stewards gathered around her, plus Max and Charles. Charles placed his hands underneath her arms and pulled her up. “I got sick in my helmet.” She coughed. 
“Shhh…” He took off her helmet quickly. A stretcher was brought to her. 
“I don’t want to leave.” She hiccuped. “I have a podium to cele-” She dry-heaved, nothing to throw up, “Celebrate.” 
“I’m so proud of you.” He pleaded with her to get her onto the stretcher. Her face turned ghost-white.
“I’m really scared.” She whimpered. “And-and I feel like I’m going to faint.” Charles placed his hand behind her head as her body went limp, heart breaking while paramedics attending to her vitals. It was a scene for sure. Blue and red lights from an ambulance blocked the screen below the podium, people from Mclaren that were preparing for a podium celebration were now freaking out for their driver, and Charles Leclerc seemed to be the most worried for someone who wasn’t even his teammate. Those who could only see in from the outside watched as he brushed her hair out of her face and kissed her forehead before composing himself. Love. 
“I’m going to come see you as soon as I can get out of here.” He assured her. “I’m sure everyone will.” Throughout the interviews and the celebrations Charles bit his tongue. He noticed the other worn out drivers. Lance had passed out on the corners towards the end of the race, Logan had to retire, Esteban got sick in his helmet, and the rest of the grid was laying on the floor with wet towels and gallons of water. This was just unsafe. He got away from the track as soon as possible, rushing to the hospital. “Y/n.” 
Tears filled her eyes as she saw him enter the room. “Charlie.” She dropped the strawberry in her hands. He rushed to her, quickly but carefully embracing her. The doctor came in, informing him that she was dehydrated and hadn’t had enough protein. She listened as Charles, the entire grid of drivers, and her trainer coached her on how important a meal plan is and how a meal is not something you can forget. That night Lando fell asleep on the couch and Charles held her as tight as he could.
493 notes · View notes
getosbigballsack · 14 hours
Text
Random thought! - Husband Gojo x Wife Reader-chan #inside the diary
Hear me out! Gojo read your thoughts in your diary and came to realize that he was a terrible husband to you.
He knew he was a good lay, hence the reason he managed to knock you up three times. But as of lately, he came to realize that you weren't interested in having sex with him.
At first, he thought it was just because you were too tired, having to take care of the kids while he works, all day by yourself (in which he understands, and he praises you for being such a wonderful mother).
But that wasn't the case. He just happened to come home early from work while you were out shopping with the kids, and he got a hold of your diary.
Interestingly, he took it upon himself to skim through the pages of your book, just to see what's inside your little head. Nothing out of the ordinary, just little notes and reminders to yourself about the task you had to complete and a few words of encouragement here and there.
He usually doesn't read through your thoughts, always thinking that if you had an issue you'd come and talk to him, so he was about to put your diary back where he found it because he didn't want to pry further into your thoughts, but that's until one page in particular caught his eye.
I find it difficult to enjoy sex with my husband nowadays and I don't know why?
Words in blue handwriting are written beautifully on the paper. He kept on reading, and as he continued to move further down the line, he felt his heart break.
It’s just me, but I don't think I'm attractive enough to have sex with my husband.
I wanted to suggest the last time we had sex [that was a month ago], but I didn't wanna ruin the moment for him because he looked like he was having fun.
Satoru came home today and wanted to have sex. I told him no. He never forced himself on me. He only kissed me goodnight and left to go sleep in the guest room. I know he was upset but did he really have to leave?
It's been 2 months, and Satoru hasn't tried touching me since that night. Am I not worthy of loving anymore? He doesn't even buy me flowers anymore or take me out on dates.
He doesn't compliment me anymore, doesn't tell me that I'm beautiful. He doesn’t even call me baby girl, doll or even honey.
No more I love you, only kisses to the forehead and peck on the lips before he leaves for work in the morning.
He comes home late, I'm always alone with the kids, no more family dinners, no more kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom conversations. No more late-night kisses, no more holding me tightly in his arms while he sleeps.
Does he not want me anymore?
Sometimes I wanna visit his office with the children but I’m afraid that he’ll find my presence a bit annoying. I feel lonely without him here with me.
I should've said yes that night and spread my legs for him,
That's my duty as his wife.
To have fulfilled all my husband's needs without complaint.
But it hurts to have sex, I'm just not in the mood. I'm too tired, I just need my husband to hold me, but he's not there.
I can't complain, he's the reason I don't have to work.
But is it so bad to ask my husband to love me without having the need to touch me?
The last entry to your diary reads.
I'm going to do it today, bare the pain and have sex with my husband, just so that I can feel his love once again. 
Now he knows the real reason you won’t have intercourse with him, or let's say the reason you don’t enjoy having sex with him. You feel as though he doesn’t love you anymore, and he needs to fix that. So, until he can figure out a way to prove to you just how much he loves you, he’ll have to deprive himself of your warm loving touch. 
Later in the day when you came home with the kids, you saw your husband cooking up a storm in the kitchen. “Hey baby girl, want something to eat? It’s been a while hasn’t it.” too stunned to even say a word, you just watched as your kids, ages 3, 4 and 6 ran over to their dad and engulfed him in a big hug. He giggled and stopped whatever he was doing to bend to his children’s height and kissed every single of them on their cheeks. “Hey boys. Did you all take your mom out shopping today?” Oh, that’s right you’re a boy mom. You managed to pop three boys, all of them came out looking just like their dad, especially your eldest son. 
The boys chatted away with their dad until he excused himself and walked over to you and wrapped his arms tightly around your body. You're in a state of shock, unable to move for a moment until he whispers, “can I get a hug back?” and you did give him a hug. 
“Welcome home, have a seat, dinner’s almost ready. I cooked vegetable curry today, I know it’s your favourite,” and indeed it is your favourite. For the rest of the day, he spent time in the kitchen cooking while chatting with his kids, not without taking small glances at you. You all ate dinner together, got the kids ready for bed when night falls, before preparing for bed yourselves. 
You remembered that you wrote in your diary that you were about to try and have sex with your husband, all for the sake of feeling his love again, but that didn’t happen. Instead, you found your husband already waiting for you on the bed, fully dressed in pjs, a cup of your favourite tea in his hand and a warm loving smile on his face. 
He immediately started up a conversation with you, asking you about your day and your trip to the shopping centre. You had no clue what was going on inside your husband’s head, but it’s been a while since he last sat down and had small conversations like these, and you weren’t about to miss this opportunity. 
So with a smile on your face, you told everything that happened today and even the fact that you had to buy a bag of grapes you had no intentions of buying, but you did so because your 3 year old son stole and ate a few while you picked up a bag of oranges. The conversation went all a while until he sighed. 
“Y/N,” he whispered in a serious tone. “We need to talk. I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I can’t bear the fact that my wife would be going to bed with doubts about our relationship and my love for you.”
You swallow thickly and rest your now empty cup against the nightstand before turning to face your husband fully. He reached his hand out for you, and you gently placed your left hand in his. He wrapped his large hand around your finger and gently pulled you until you were straddling his lips. You swallowed that thick lump yet again, before whispering, “So what is it that we need to talk about.”
“Why do you always refuse to communicate your feelings with me?” he asked as he let go of your hand and wrapped both hands around your waist and rested his head up against your chest. “I know I haven’t been a good husband to you these past few months, but I don’t want you to think that I don’t love you or that you’re not worthy of loving.”
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
He sighed heavily before taking a deep breath. “I found your diary in the living room when I got home, and I read through your notes.” Your body tensed up in his lap, your mind immediately racing towards negative thoughts. Is he angry? Why did you have to carelessly leave your diary out in the open for him to see. 
“Oh!”
“I’m sorry for reading through your diary, but I’m happy that I did because my wife won’t communicate with me,” he said with a frustrated sigh. 
You frowned, “Would you have listened even if I tried?”
“I would’ve dropped everything and listened to whatever it is that you have to say. I know it's my duty to ensure that my wife is living her best happy life, and that it’s also my responsibility to take care of your wellbeing, but I can’t always know what's going on with you if you don’t communicate with me.” 
Communication on your end has always been a big issue in your relationship with your husband. It bothered him and he’d hope that after a while you would’ve grown out of your bad habit, but he guess he’s wrong, because here you are now after 8 years of being a relationship total and that includes the four years of marriage, and 3 kids later, you still struggling to figure out a way to communicate your feelings with him. 
“I broke my heart when I read that you thought that as my wife, your duty is to only provide for me sexually or even the fact that you don’t think that you’re attractive enough to have sex with me. What hurts me the most is that you have so many doubts about my love for you. Y/N you know that I love you right?”
“I do,” your voice trembled slightly as you answered. 
“Then why are you doubting my feelings for you? I apologise for leaving you to sleep in the guest room that night, it was wrong of me to be upset all because you told me no.” There was a moment of silence, you figured he was waiting for a response in which you never gave.
“I know I don’t say this as much as I need to, but I love you. I LOVE YOU so very much. I love you as my best friend, my wife and I love you even more as the mother of my children.” Tears started to obstruct your vision as you stared off at your wedding portrait that was above your bed and listened as your husband poured his hurt out to you. 
“I need you to stop thinking that you are not worthy of loving because you are more than worthy. You’re an amazing woman, an amazing wife, and an amazing mother to our children. Just the fact that you're a mother makes you worthy of loving.” 
“Satoru… I- I,” you stuttered, trying to formulate the words inside your mouth, but even if you did, what are you going to say to your husband? You had not one clue. 
“I’m not a mind reader Y/N, so you need to start communicating your feelings with me, because if you don’t tell me, I’m not going to always know,” he said to you as he snuggled his head against your chest. 
“I- I’ll do better.” 
“I’m happy to hear that, and I promise to show you just how much I love you and do whatever it is to ensure that my wife is happy, because your happiness means the most to me. I’ll get you those flowers you want, and I’ll try my best to buy you loads of flowers in the future. And about visiting my office.”
“Yes?” you said. 
“I would love for you to pop up at my office one day with the kids and surprise me. My workers have been dying to meet my beautiful wife and children. And about the late-night work meetings. I can’t promise you that there won’t be any more late-night meetings, but I'll do my best to get home as early as I can to be with you and the kids. I don’t want you to feel as though I’ve abandoned you with the kids. I’ll take a few days off from work too and take the ends out. You’re right we barely have family time.”
“Thank you,” you said smiling as you allowed those tears to run down your cheeks. 
“I’ll do better as your husband. It wasn't my intention to not cuddle and hold you tightly while we sleep. Baby you know you can always smack me in the head or do that cute silly little thing you do and crawl underneath my arms if you want to cuddle with me,” he said to you, and you let out a small giggle. 
He chuckled too as he removed one hand from around your waist to cradle your cheek. “Lastly, this is about our sex life. If I make you feel physical pain, or uncomfortable at any time during intercourse you need to let me know because the last thing I want to do is hurt you. In your diary you said that you wanted to suggest the last time we had sex. I want you to tell me what it is.”
Your face heated up immediately, why would he have to bring that up now. Couldn’t he have waited until a better time. But nonetheless despite the obvious look of embarrassment on your face you whispered, “I was wondering if… if…”
“Yes?” 
“I was wondering if we could try something outside the usual vanilla sex,” you said to him, and he cocked his eyebrow towards you. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy vanilla sex, I love having vanilla sex with you and you know how to be rough when you need to be. But I thought it would be nice if we could do something different.” 
“What do you suggest?” he asked with a sunning grin on his face. 
“Maybe we could try using some sex toys.” 
“Sex toys heh?” he said, and you quickly covered up your face with your hands. “I’m open, I don’t mind getting a few sex toys here and there for us to use. I can order us a few online on another day.”
“Ok…”
“Good girl. I love you.” he whispered as he kissed your lips. "I promise I'll be a better husband for you."
“I love you too, Satoru.”
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purple-babygirl · 2 days
Text
don't call me daddy V
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x little!f!reader Word count: 4,660 Summary : In a world where littles are openly themselves, they volunteer to help and be helped by willing caregivers. In spite of himself, Bucky finds himself stuck with one and to keep the nagging away, he has to learn how to be around her with everything that that entails. Warnings: crying, age regression, fluff, a little angst A/N: i would like to give credits for this part and its idea to🦊nonnie because without her ask there might've not been a fifth part to this story. Having said that, i'm thinking this should be the last part of the story because i am out of scenario your girl is empty. but anyway, please enjoy this one and have a tight hug xx💜💜
~
When they arrived back at her house, she was asleep in the passenger seat.
Bucky didn’t want to wake her up. He knew she barely got any sleep last night because of the mean cough she was suffering from and so he carefully carried her inside without a word.
His heart kept speeding up every time he would remember what she called him after taking her shot as he slipped her feet out of her shoes and socks and tucked her in her bed.
He frankly had no idea what he would do if she was to wake up little and if he was ready to be a good daddy to her. What if he messed up again? He seemed to be a pro at that.
Luckily, when she woke up later that night, she was her big self again and didn’t seem to have any recollection of calling Bucky daddy, or if she did, she didn’t mention it.
Bucky gave her her cough syrup and the rest of the meds, helping her go back to sleep as he presumed his place on the floor by her bed.
In a way he couldn’t explain, even her coughs were more comfort than the silence at his house, and definitely more comfort than his nightmares.
It was 12 days of little sleep, a lot of crying, meds, movies and sleepovers until she was fully cured again, and even though Bucky hated that she was sick, those seemed to have been some of the best days he’s ever gotten to live since he’s come back to himself.
He got to laugh with someone, care for someone, comfort someone and enjoy the company of someone. And not just anyone; it was her.
But something was missing still.
Bucky wanted her to call him daddy. More than anything and from the bottom of his heart, he wanted to deserve that name, that role.
What Bucky had noticed in the days he’d stayed at her place was that she had no family pictures at all.
She had framed pictures of friends, of herself, of Corgi, but none of family members.
It didn’t come as a surprise because she’d mentioned it to him before, and he just knew that if he wanted to be her caregiver, her daddy, Bucky had to prove to her that he was nothing like those who’d hurt her. He had to prove himself worthy of taking care of her; set himself apart from them.
And to do that, he had to know more.
“I see no family pictures anywhere,” Bucky spoke as he helped her plant the new tulips she had in place.
“Yeah, we’re not close.” She shrugged, hand stuttering just the tiniest bit in their movements.
“Can I ask why?”
She sighed, “why?”
“I’m trying to learn from the mistakes of others.”
She laughed, “really?”
“Really.”
Oh, this wasn’t a joke?
“You know you don’t have to do that anymore, right?” She couldn’t understand why he would want to try again when the report was handed and he was let off the hook.
“I want to. I really want to.” Bucky wished his gloved hands weren’t muddy as they were so he could touch her face.
He found himself craving physical contact around her more often than not.
“You finally believe in the power of the program?” She teased, keeping her focus on the flowers she was rooting.
“No, I couldn’t care less about the institution and its programs.”
“Not even Mrs. Morrison?” She joked again.
“I’m serious, doll.”
“Why then?” She dropped the bulbs, deciding to face Bucky.
“I want it because it’s you I’ll be daddy to.”
“They never loved me for who I was.” She answered his previous question and Bucky felt a pang at his chest.
He’s made her feel the same way.
He remained silent, not wanting to interrupt her in fear that she might stop.
“I always had to be a certain way, say certain things, act a certain way. Do what we say and then we’ll see if we can love you.”
Bucky might’ve been speechless, but his eyes spoke a million words, begging hers for forgiveness for his ignorant mistakes.
“That’s why it hurt so much when you showed me you didn’t accept the little version of me.”
“I’m so sorry-”
She shook her head, stopping him.
“I’ve been rejected for too long, Bucky, too many times. It took me a good while to finally believe that I was worth loving despite my quirks, ugly parts and possible mistakes. Took too long to teach myself that it didn’t matter if I cried all the time, was too clingy or too talkative; I was still lovable.” She pointed to her chest as she finished her words.
Bucky took his gloves off, pulling her in for a hug, unable to stop himself anymore. He had no words, only anger and remorse raging inside his chest.
“It takes you a while to unlearn stuff you’ve been taught your whole life by the people who were supposed to love you the most.” She whispered into his shirt.
“Doll, I’m so sorry,” Bucky whispered back.
“It’s okay.” She looked up at him, “I appreciate you, Bucky, I really do, but I don’t think I’m ready to lose everything I’ve built inside me if you decide in the middle of it that you weren’t fully ready to take on such a responsibility. I forgive you. I promise. But I don’t trust you enough to give up full control of myself and my life to you again. I’m sorry.” She pulled away from the hug, giving Bucky the option to walk away.
“Don’t be. I understand.” He remained in place.
“Are you gonna disappear now?” She wondered with a sad smile.
“No, you’re not getting rid of me so easily.” Bucky returned the smile, putting his gloves back on.
She smiled gratefully, “I don’t wanna lose you either. You’re such a great friend. And I owe you forever for taking care of me those past few days.”
“What if I prove myself to you though?” Bucky asked, dipping a tulip bulb in the soil.
“What?” She tilted her head in confusion.
“What if I show you how serious I am about this and prove myself worthy of you?”
“Bucky, you don’t have to do that. I know you have a life, responsibilities-”
“I want to do it. There’s nothing more important to me right now than this. And you.”
“If you’re doing this just because you can’t accept that you failed the program-”
“I swear on my ma’s soul, I want to do this. Because of you, doll. For you and with you.”
The words died on her tongue as she watched his sincere eyes implore hers.
“Would you give me a chance to prove myself to you? Please?”
“Okay, Bucky.” She swallowed, “one chance.”
“That’s all I need.” Bucky smiled.
~ After their conversation in the garden, Bucky had to go home.
She was not sick anymore and he didn’t have a reason to stick around. He also didn’t want to push her on the matter of regressing, so, respectful of her boundaries, he left.
His heart was heavy when he entered his empty apartment to nothing and no one. Being alone in here wasn’t something he enjoyed anymore.
It has been 2 days of intense research that Bucky has conducted on age regression and partners in little space when she texted him that night.
“Mr. Barnes, can you please come over?”
He wasn’t particularly happy about the fact that he was Mr. Barnes again, but he certainly was happy that she thought to text him when little. This was an improvement and it counted to Bucky.
“Will be right there, doll.” He texted back, running to his motorcycle.
~
Bucky took in a deep breath before knocking at her door, ready to prove himself a suitable daddy.
She opened with teary eyes, making Bucky’s heart sink.
“What’s wrong, doll?” Bucky asked as he stepped inside.
“I can’t open the pickle jar and now my hands hurt,” she cried, showing him the insides of her palms and how red they were from trying so hard to twist the cap on the glass jar.
She was indeed a little worried that Bucky might find this stupid, that he might yell at her or get upset because she was crying over something minimal in his eyes.
But that wasn’t the case at all. The man was just thankful that she was alright.
“Oh, doll,” Bucky sighed in relief, glad that she wasn’t actually hurt.
Until he remembered that this was a big deal to her. Her hands hurt and she was frustrated because the cap wouldn’t budge.
Moments like these definitely required a daddy.
“I thought Mr. Barnes could help,” she sniffled, her hand wiping under her nose, “metal arm.” She touched his gloved hand.
Bucky chuckled, taking the pickle jar out of her hand, “what if I can do it without the metal arm? What would you give me in return?”
“The biggest pickle?” She offered, wiping her tears away from her eyes, her crying stopping at once.
Bucky laughed at her innocence, “no, I want something else, doll.”
She tilted her head expectantly.
What could Mr. Barnes possibly want? Did he want the whole jar? Would he at least leave her one pickle? She was craving pickles-
“I want you to start calling me Bucky again. No more Mr. Barnes. Can you do that for me, doll?”
Oh, that was something she could do.
“Only if you can open the jar with your not metal hand,” she challenged, her little mind amazed by the idea because look at her hand! It had red marks all over when she tried opening that jar.
“You got it,” Bucky said, easily twisting the cap on the jar open, making her mouth open with it.
“Woah,” she whispered as Bucky handed her the jar with a laugh.
“You’re welcome, doll.” He smiled, watching her chew on a crunchy pickle.
“Thank you, Bucky.” She smiled back, offering him a big pickle.
Bucky’s nerves tingled, knowing he was one step closer to her and his desired title.
~
Moving forward, Bucky learned to distinguish between her big self and little self through texts.
Her little self would always talk about him and herself in third person.
Plus, her big self always needed help with bigger things like needing Bucky to fix her sink or look at her car, knowing he might burn down the city if she went back to asking Adam for help with those things.
Her little self, on the other hand, would need help with the lighter things, the sweeter things. She would call asking for help with Corgi, something too high on a shelf or even just wanting Bucky’s company.
Tonight was one of those nights.
It was thundering more than usual and Bucky had wanted to go and be with her, but he didn’t want to invade her privacy.
But then she called and her scared voice saying his name had Bucky moving even before she uttered the words.
He was proud that she now knew that he was just only one call away; that he would come running whenever she needed. She could finally count on him to be there for her and he couldn’t be more contented.
He knew that consistency was important in relationships, especially one where she was little.
“Hey, doll, it’s okay. It’s just a little thunder,” Bucky cooed, rubbing her back as she let him inside.
“I’m not scared anymore now that Bucky is here.” She smiled, her breathing visibly slowing down.
“Well, I’m staying the night so you have nothing to worry about,” he chuckled, following her to the bedroom.
“Bucky covered his motorcycle?” she asked, worried his vehicle would get ruined.
“Leave that for now, we’ll hose it down together tomorrow when it’s sunny.”
“Corgi loves the hose,” she spoke out the first thought that came to her mind and Bucky loved it, laughing heartily at her comment.
The dog’s ears perked at the sound of his name, jumping at Bucky’s feet as soon as he entered the bedroom, waiting for his share of pets.
He bent down to give the dog some love when he heard her sigh.
“Corgi loves Bucky too.” She smiled shyly, internally wishing her name was Corgi.
“Bucky loves Corgi right back,” Bucky whispered, leaning in to kiss her forehead.
She only smiled bigger, running to her bed and getting under the covers.
When Bucky got down to sleep on the floor that night, however, she slipped off her bed and right next to him.
“Doll, the floor is too cold for you. Sleep on your bed, come on.” Bucky sat up, wanting to help her up on the bed again but she wouldn’t move.
“Wanna be next to Bucky,” she said with a pout.
“But-”
“I know Bucky can’t sleep on beds. It’s okay. Doll will sleep here,” she told him, squeezing Wolfie in her arms.
Bucky’s heart fluttered and it made his mind light up with an idea only a true daddy would have.
“Do you wanna build a fort?” He suggested and her face instantly beamed with a smile as she nodded.
Of course she did!
That night as Bucky gathered all of her soft blankets to make her a floor mattress inside a fort full of fluffy pillows, he knew he was smitten.
This girl had him head over heels for her and there was nothing in the world that he wouldn’t do just to see her smile.
“Can Bucky please tell me a story?”
“Sure, doll. Do you have any books I can read to you from?”
“I have books that big me likes but I don’t want those.”
“What would you like then?”
“I want a story that is Bucky’s. Tell me a story you didn’t tell anyone at the institution.”
Oh, she was jealous. The thought made Bucky smile as he pulled the covers up to her neck to make sure she was warm down on the floor.
“Okay, you ready?” Bucky asked, dimming the lights in her room.
She made herself comfortable under the covers, big eyes watching Bucky’s handsome grin as the cozy atmosphere he’s created comforted her through the storm, “ready.”
“Once upon a time, there was a small idiot who picked up fights with boys much bigger than himself. His name was Steve…”
Bucky fell asleep with his hand stroking her hair, watching her soft breaths leave her chest that night without abruptly waking up in the middle of it for the first time in forever.
~
Bucky didn’t know what it was like to be her, but he was going to do his best to put himself in her shoes like she’d previously tried.
She deserved to be fully and entirely understood.
He witnessed a glimpse of her feelings towards the concept of family a couple of times when they would watch movies like The Lion King or Lilo and Stitch.
She didn’t seem to be affected by the death of Mufasa even though he knew her to be a very sensitive little. She was sad for Simba, of course, but not for Mufasa’s demise. Similarly with Lilo and Stitch, she didn’t care much about the concept of the family.
There was an actual barrier separating her from experiencing any positive feelings that came with the idea of family. Because she had none to associate with hers.
With some more research, Bucky managed to find a few animated movies that didn’t seem to revolve around the idea of family love and how family was everything and whatnot.
One of those movies was The Willoughbys. The movie depicted how neglecting some parents can be and that 2 people loving each other and getting married didn’t necessarily mean they would love their children too.
It was a very unique movie and Bucky was actually happy they could make such movies nowadays.
When the song I Choose You started playing in the movie, Bucky felt her small hand squeezing into a fist.
He silently wrapped his hand around hers, offering quiet comfort and support.
He looked down to see tears in her innocent eyes as she showed her feelings for the first time during one of their movie nights.
 “Bucky chooses me?” she croaked, lip trembling as she cried.
“Bucky chooses you, doll. Wholeheartedly.” Bucky reassured, bringing her knuckles to his lips.
“I choose Bucky, too.” She pulled him down by one cheek to leave a kiss on the other.
Bucky froze.
It was the first time she’s kissed him since he applied that cream on her burnt hand back at his house. She did it on her own, too.
“And I choose Corgi,” she said, running her fingers through the hair of the puppy sleeping soundly on her lap.
“That’s right, and Corgi chooses you. Family doesn’t have to be the ones you were born with, doll,” Bucky told her as he wiped her tears away, “you can choose the family you want for yourself”.
“Thank you, Bucky.” She hugged him tight, afraid he might not be real and that this moment is all made up.
“You’re welcome, doll.” Bucky kissed the side of her head as they pulled away.
“Can I choose Adam, too?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper as she gauged Bucky’s reaction.
She could actually hear his chest rumble with a low “argh” before he nodded despite himself, making her giggle.
“Don’t worry. I only have one Bucky.” She reassured, slinging her arm around Bucky’s metal one.
One daddy, she wanted to say, but she couldn’t. She was still scared.
~
Bucky knew that she needed her own independent time alone sometimes even when little, and he would allow her just that, texting throughout the day just to make sure she was okay, reminding her to drink water and take care of herself.
But there was one particularly hard weekend when she felt real down about some of her plants dying as the storm took them out of the ground.
When she opened the door she was clearly disheveled, hair all messy and looking like it hadn’t been brushed all week.
“Hey, doll,” Bucky spoke gently as he closed the door behind him.
She quickly ran into his arms, needing the comfort more than anything, “my plants are dead and Corgi peed on my new carpet and my hair doesn’t smell like shampoo anymore and I’m-”
Damn. She was spiraling. She just slipped out of his hug and on the floor. Oh no.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m here now and I got you, okay?” Bucky tried his best to reassure her, getting on his knees before her to look into her eyes.
“Okay,” she hiccupped, nodding even though she wasn’t fully convinced.
“What happened to the plants?” Bucky wanted to handle her concerns one at a time.
“My apple trees were pulled out of place because of the storm,” she started sobbing again as she remembered what had happened to her hard word.
“Okay, okay, tell you what, I’ll put them back in place, okay?”
“Really?” She sniffed.
“Really.” Bucky smiled kindly.
“Okay.” She nodded, trying to control her breathing.
“And we’ll throw the new carpet in the washing machine, and keep Corgi in his playpen with pee pads,” Bucky gave her the steps of how the day was going to go, leading her by the hand to where Corgi was.
“Okay.” She nodded again, her tears ceasing.
“And while the carpet is being washed, I’ll help you wash your hair. Does that sound okay?” Bucky asked her permission, wanting to make sure she was completely comfortable.
“Yes.” She was finally smiling again as well.
“Okay, let’s get you in here,” Bucky told the puppy before placing him inside his playpen.
He spread a few sheets on which the dog could pee if needed before collecting the affected mat.
“Let’s take this to the washing machine,” Bucky voiced his movements, wanting to put her at ease as he kept her hand in his and walked with her to the bathroom.
“In you go.” Bucky threw the rug inside the washing machine along with some detergent.
“Now what do we do?” He asked her, wanting to keep her out of her head.
“Wash doll’s hair?” She asked with half a smile.
“That’s right, get in there.” Bucky tilted his head towards the bathtub with a smile.
And for some reason, it was different this time. He didn’t feel all weird seeing her naked. Maybe it was because he knew her better this time and was familiar with her in more ways than one that such intimacy didn’t startle him. He wasn’t sure, but Bucky wasn’t complaining, only grateful as she closed her sweet eyes and trusted him to wash her hair for her.
~
“Alright, show me how it’s done,” Bucky encouraged, instructing her to whip her hair to the front so he could wrap the towel around it.
She did as told with a giggle, dangling her hair before her and letting Bucky wrap it up the best he could.
“Off to the couch.” Bucky chuckled as he watched her skip in her cashmere bathrobe to her couch.
Later after Bucky has brushed her hair for her, he helped her get dressed and they went outside together to replant the fallen apple saplings the wind had knocked down just like he promised.
The smile on her face was new and unmatched as she watched Bucky handle her plants with care.
“Thank you, Bucky.” She hugged him close, hardly wanting to let go as they stood in the middle of her garden.
Bucky was now rooted in her heart just like the plants in her gardens were in their soil.
She didn’t think she could be away from him anymore. She didn’t want to be away from him anymore.
“Daddy, I’m hungry,” she whispered timidly as they started walking back to the house.
“What do you want on your piz- what did you say?” Bucky stopped in his tracks.
“I’m hungry.” She bit her lip and looked away quickly, hesitant now that his eyes were on her.
“Before that, doll.” Bucky brought her eyes back to his by her chin.
“D-daddy?”
Bucky smiled a smile that reached his eyes as they lit up with gratitude. He couldn’t believe he was finally hearing that word.
“Daddy’s thinking pizza, doll. Sound okay?”
Her face glowed up with her own smile as she witnessed Bucky, with full commitment, refer to himself as daddy.
She nodded, knowing this was going to be the most delicious pizza she was ever going to eat.
~
“What is daddy thinking?” she asked when she noticed his eyes on her, slipping a loose strand of hair behind Bucky’s ear.
“Just thinking about all the things you make me feel, doll.” He smiled, turning his face to kiss her hand before it left his face.
Her face started heating up as she retracted her hand, tingles spreading all over her, “things like what?”
“You make me feel like there’s still good in this world. Like I’m worth patience and kindness and maybe even… love,” Bucky voiced his feelings, eyes dreamy as they watched her pretend to be focused on organizing her stuffies’ seats on the floor.
“You are, daddy,” she replied sincerely, hurting inside that Bucky might doubt this even a little.
“I can’t believe I was so horrible to you, doll.” Bucky’s sigh came out hot from his chest, holding so much regret.
“That’s in the past, daddy. Doll doesn’t think about it no more.” She smiled, her littler hand covering his own lovingly before giving a soothing squeeze.
“You’re just perfect, aren’t you?” Bucky held her hand up and gave the back of it a noisy kiss.
She laughed, face heating up more at the sweet attention, “no body’s perfect, remember?”
Bucky tried to continue laughing with her but he was still kicking himself for what he did to her during her visit to his house.
“How did you even tolerate me back then, doll? I was the worst.” Bucky covered his face with his hands as he threw his head back, laying on his back on the floor full of shame.
“That’s not true. You just misunderstood me and that happens!” She was quick to defend him, refusing the idea that he would even criticize himself, “daddy is the best.”
“I know, but it still gave me no right to treat you the way I did.” Bucky’s eyes teared up at the memories of his very mean words and actions, “I made you cry a lot.” He struggled to forgive himself for that one.
“Daddy, I forgave you, I swear,” she promised, her hands cradling his full cheeks.
She felt like her heart might stop from sadness if Bucky was to cry right now.
“I’m really sorry. I’m really really sorry, doll.” Bucky’s eyes were sincere, holding so much emotion in them that she felt her own begin to fill up with tears.
“Daddy, you don’t need to apologize no more,” she whispered, doing her best to hold back tears.
“You have made me the luckiest man on earth by accepting me as your caregiver, your daddy, and you’ve taught me so much, doll.” Bucky actually started crying, a lot of held-inside feelings coming out at once.
“Daddy.” Her thumb wiped under his eyes gently as she felt her own tears roll down, “don’t say stuff like that”.
“But I need to. Because you did. You taught me unconditional love and acceptance. You taught me what it means to live again. Doll, your patience with my terribleness has taught me that maybe I’m not a hopeless case after all, and that this shell of a man with a metal arm might be capable of things he thought have been wiped from his memory long ago.”
“Daddy, please stop crying,” she sobbed, pressing her forehead to his chin as her attempts at wiping his tears away have proven to be futile.
“I love you so much, doll. I love you with every old bit of me and if you’ll have me…”
“Daddy?” she raised her head, eyes on Bucky’s face, trying to read his expression.
Could Bucky really be asking what she thought he was asking?
“Doll, I want you to be my baby for more than just a few days. Would you give me that honor? Would you let me be your daddy for real?”
“Daddy, are you sure?” she nervously bit her lip.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything more.” Bucky promised.
She nodded frantically, afraid the offer might disappear if she took too long to respond, “yes.”
“Thank you, doll.” Bucky breathed as he pulled her to him, strong arms engulfing her in a protective hug.
“Daddy will not regret it later?” her eyes watched him, a small hint of doubt still tainting her trust.
“Do you like the moon, doll?”
“Yes.” She tilted her head, not understanding the relation between her question and Bucky’s answer.
“You know how our sky only has one moon?”
She nodded.
“My heart is just like that. It can only have one doll no matter how much time passes.”
“Oh.” She sniffled, trying to hold the tears in.
“I love you, doll.” Bucky gave her hair a long kiss.
“I love you, daddy.” She kissed his chest, her arms tightening their hold around him as best as she could, never wanting to be away from him again.
And she wasn’t going to be. Bucky was an idiot who let her go once; never again was he going to make that mistake.
He was blessed with her now and he was going to spend every day of his life proving he was worthy of this blessing.
~
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stevieschrodinger · 2 days
Text
Link to Part One
Link to Part Two
TW mentions of human trafficking, rescue, injury, trauma
Steve locks Eddie in the car which, yeah, okay, it makes Eddie jump a little reflexively at the quiet click of the lock. And it might just be habit, or whatever, because it’s a really nice car.
Or maybe he’s even doing it for Eddie’s safety.
It still feels like he’s been locked in, though, and Eddie finds he’s...really not a fan of how this feels.
Either way, when Steve comes back less than ten minutes later and opens Eddie’s side of the car, Eddie’s still not sure how to feel about it. Suspicion is hard to shake.
Steve kneels right there on the floor of the lot, “swing around,” Eddie does, watching as Steve pulls antiseptic wipes out of the bottom of the bag, opening a packet and lifting Eddie’s foot. Eddie hisses when the wipe makes contact, it’s cold and, even though surely most of the wounds have scabbed by now, it still stings quite a bit, “sorry.” Steve looks up at Eddie earnestly, big eyes and floppy hair and, well, the moles are cute.
And having an Alpha kneel on the floor for him, that’s kind of nice too. Maybe Steve really is that good looking.
He wraps Eddie’s feet in a bandage, some tube bandage over the top, Eddie still slurping on his peanut butter chocolate shake. He’s going to have the absolute worst shit later, he knows it, too much rich food all at once, after a really long time of non at all, but honestly, so worth it.
“When we get home, I’ll set you up in one of the spare rooms, and maybe we can order you some clothes?” Steve pulls the bandage comfortably tight around Eddie’s foot, a nice gauze pad wrapped around the sole for cushioning.
“Errr, I mean, I, before, I was usually a good will kind of shopper, you know? Maybe Target on a good day?”
Steve just blinks at him for a second, before that clearly sinks in, “don’t...don’t think about the money, if that’s what you mean, we can get you some clothes, really, I don’t mind.”
And Eddie’s sure as fuck not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, Steve’s already broke the bank on Eddie, what’s a little more, right?”
Eddie whistles, he can’t help it. Objectively, obviously, he knew Steve was loaded. There’s a difference between knowing that and…seeing it. This is like a fucking mansion. Well, it’s not like a mansion, obviously. It is a mansion.
Automatic electric gates, a drive that’s got to be a half mile long...and lawns. Trees. Land stretching off into the distance.
The house is fucking nice. It’s kind of sprawling...just the garage looks fucking massive on it’s own.
Steve sort of hovers around Eddie as he limps over the threshold, and, yeap, just as nice inside as it is outside. Very sleek and modern, big open spaces, lots of glass. Dark wood and bookcases filled with leather books and big paintings that look impressive but aren’t...well. Eddie’s not a fan, really. Eddie spies a building out the back, also lots of glass...Eddie’s money is on indoor pool.
“Something smells good,” Eddie says, as he limps further into the house, “smells kind of homey.” Which is true, something here smells vaguely relaxing. Kind of...comforting. Safe.
Eddie looks around as he gets further in, and the place is so big it is kind of a walk, it’s...really nice, but also kind of soulless. It doesn’t look lived in at all. And, Eddie frowns, something occurring to him for the very first time. Steve’s a good looking Alpha, and he’s fucking loaded, “will your, erm,” Eddie flounders, “partner, mind me being here?”
Steve laughs, seeing Eddie through to the lounge to sit on the couch, “don’t think I would have been able to play my part today if I were in any kind of serious relationship. Hagan would have known if I was seeing anyone, the press loves that shit.”
And yeah, all of that makes total sense, and Eddie feels kind of stupid for not putting that together. But it...doesn’t really make sense, considering Steve is, still, clearly, very hot and very loaded.
“Okay,” Steve plops a laptop into Eddie’s lap, open to a clothing website. “just open tabs on some stuff you’d like, and then give it back to me when you’re done. You’re going to need some clothes while Hopper tracks down your uncle, okay? I’m going to go and set up a room.”
Eddie’s just sort of rolling with it at this point, so he nods and smiles and then blinks down at a Tom Ford Slim-Fit Button-Down Collar Checked Cotton shirt...that’s nearly seven hundred dollars.
And Eddie would never, in a million fucking years, be caught dead in it. Honestly, he thinks he actually prefers the white nightdress.
Eddie looks at the drop down menu, clicks on ‘cashmere’ for shits and giggles, and then laughs to himself when the very first listing is a black turtle-neck...for over a thousand odd dollars. Fucking rich people are batshit.
Eddie manages to find a drop down that lets him filter out everything over two hundred and fifty dollars, and then he searches by lowest price first. He starts opening tabs, mostly inoffensive lounge wear – a large portion of which is very, very unfortunately beige.
Eddie hears Steve coming before he sees him, “just do it please Carol,” and he sounds...exasperated by whoever Carol is. Steve comes back and takes the laptop. He very very briefly frowns at Eddie over the top of the screen, but it’s over so fast Eddie’s not entirely sure he saw it, “you think you’ll want something more to eat later?”
Eddie did eat his weight in McDonalds a couple of hours ago...but he hasn’t been really full for years, “uhm, yeah, in a bit, maybe?”
“Sure, I’ll see what we have.”
And then Eddie just...sits there. He can’t actually remember the last time he just...sat on a couch. The only place the Omega at the ranch are allowed to sit is either the floor, when they’ve been told to, the table, but only when eating...and probably their beds in the dorm.
Sitting here feels kind of naughty, actually, sitting here, relaxing, comfortable and warm. Eddie touches the lush, velvety feel of the couch, it’s really nice, really soft-“chicken and pasta?” Eddie nearly jumps out of his fucking skin. Like he’s just been caught doing something he shouldn’t. Logically, he knows that isn’t the case, but his feet are tingling regardless.
Steve can actually cook, who knew? Well, it might only be a simple dish, browned off chicken chunks in something creamy and mushroomy, sitting on some pasta, but it’s absolutely delicious.
“We should probably get someone to look at your feet tomorrow.”
Eddie shrugs, nearly vibrating with excitement at the sight of garlic bread and trying his best to hide it, “always been fine before.”
“Still, I wouldn’t want them getting infected. Do you want me to tell Hopper anything about your uncle? I presume he will be busy for a little bit but…?”
Eddie swallows but...nods, Steve getting his phone and Hoppers card, “he’s called Wayne Munson, he’s my dads brother. He lives in a trailer park in, uhm, Hawkins. Indiana.”
Steve taps at his phone, “that’s not actually that far, we could...probably drive that, maybe in a day, once you feel up to it. I’ll see what Hopper says, see if he gets back to us tomorrow, I figure we've both had a long day.”
And that sounds...well. Eddie's running out of reasons to be suspicious, to question this, to question Steve. He has a little kernel of hope, real, genuine hope, growing inside him now...that this is true. That he's going to be free. That he's going to see Wayne.
Eddie nods, keeps eating, is thrilled when Steve offers him a beer, nodding happily. Steve withdraws it at the last second, “wait, just how old are you?”
“Errr…twenty one?”
Steve laughs, “try again,” but he does hand over the beer.
“Eighteen. I was there for a couple of years, maybe a bit longer, they got me walking home from school. Pretty sure my parents wouldn’t have, you know, noticed, probably best I don’t go back there, anyway. Quite a few Omega came through in the time that I was, you know, there...”
Steve’s staring off into space though, looking somewhere over Eddie’s shoulder, clearly not listening.“-oh.”
“Errr...Steve, you okay?” Steve looks like his brain has just stalled. Like completely shut down, “Steve, man, you’re freaking me out a bit here.”
Steve frowns, finally showing some life, his fork still literally hanging in air, half way to his mouth, “Tommy Hagan is probably being arrested.”
“I, err...I mean, yeah? I fucking hope he is?”
As Eddie watches, a bit of chicken falls off Steve’s fork and splats onto his plate, “right now, other than me, you, and the FBI...no one knows that. That Tommy’s being arrested, arrested for something fucking terrible.”
“Riiight…”
“He’s being arrested for something he can’t come back from. It’ll got public. His names about to be mud. His stocks are going to tank. Every part of everything Tommy owns is about to go up in flames.” Steve’s fork clangs onto the plate, “I’m so sorry, I have to go to work.”
“I...what?”
Steve’s already picking up his phone, his keys, sliding on his jacket, “help yourself to anything you need, I’ll be back...at some point.” Steve’s already calling someone, “I need you in the office, right now. I want Wheeler, from legal, make sure finance is there, actually, make sure Henderson has availability tomorrow,” Steve comes back from the front door, sliding a business card in front of Eddie, “no, right now, I’m on my way, twenty minutes.”
Eddie looks at the card; it’s Steve’s, has his email, office number and mobile on it, presumably so Eddie can get hold of him. Eddie’s pretty sure he just witnessed the first steps of a hostile take over, or something.
And now he’s in this massive house, all alone.
@stylelovechild @steddieonthen @marklee-blackmore @sticknpokelightningbolt @resident-gay-bitch @somegirlsomewhere @mugloversonly @weekend-dreamer7 @lololol-1234 @anne-bennett-cosplayer
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vlrspace · 2 days
Text
there was never a time where the atmosphere was this thick with tension, gojo thinks, never with you at least.
his slender fingers dug tightly into the leather covered wheel, white brows meeting in the middle of his forehead as his cerulean eyes focus on the road ahead. how comical, of course it’s raining outside, accompanied with purple and white strikes appearing across the sky.
gojo gazes at you from the corner of his eyes, he’s desperately trying to ignore the churn of his heart at the sight of you. soft arms wrapped around your frame, fully embracing yourself and seeking comfort in a pair of arms that aren’t his. streaks of maskara coating the red apples of your cheeks, as you lean your head against the window.
he can’t decide what’s worse; the fact that you haven’t even spoke, let alone look at him ever since you two left or that he can’t find anyone else to blame, but himself.
truly, he hadn’t known about the invitation of his ex girlfriend by his parents. a vicious move on their end, just to taunt you with the thought that gojo could always do better than you.
his ex, who is a true golden girl, the definition of a perfect woman every parent desire their children to be with. however, she was far from the ideal partner, with her cunning and self absorbed nature. sure, she’s beautiful and comes from a wealthy family, like gojo, but she only ever cared about putting up a good show for the world. everything with her were non existent, unlike with you.
gojo is aware of how, unfortunately, his parents aren’t particularly fond of you and frankly, he doesn’t care.
the familiar silhouette of your home is visible in the distance and the white haired male tries to calm down his thoughts, to centralise them about making you stay with him. gojo thinks that it’s ridiculous how tied to you he really feels, how dependent he is on you and in such short time as well. six months were enough to make him obsessed with you, it’s utterly pathetic.
the buzzing of the engine comes to a stop and you get yourself ready to exit the car, but gojo locks the car before you even could reach the handle. the action makes you turn towards him, confused and nervous as you wait for him to talk.
“i’m so sorry” his sentence comes out shaky and breathless, his body wholly facing you, blue gaze never wavering away from yours. “i’m so fucking sorry” his shoulders are shaking, pools of tears leaking from the corner of his eyes.
with quiet sobs, he reaches for you, his hands carefully placing themselves on your waist, softly cradling you closer to him. the action makes your eyes widen, you’ve never seen gojo so vulnerable before. he threw his tie on the backseat the second you two entered the vehicle, along with his suit and his button up is halfway undone.
“you deserve so much better” his words are barely audible between the hiccups, his forehead gently pressing against yours as a hand comes up to wipe your tears away. “so much better than me”
gojo blames himself for the way his parents treated you at the dinner party, you realise, belittling you and throwing snarky remarks in front of everyone when his ex arrived. even though gojo stood up for you and got into an argument with his family, those words still hurt you.
“but i don’t ever want to let you go, you’re my everything. i didn’t know what home felt like till i met you, what love really was. i don’t have to pretend to be someone else when i’m with you and you make me feel whole” the desperation of his voice makes your heart break, you can feel his hold on you a little unsteady. “it’s you that i want, you make feel a better man and i love you so much it makes my heart hurt” he stutters out, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips, before pulling away from you.
“i don’t care what they think, i belong with you” your breath hitches in your throat as his words hit you with full force. not only that, but there is no hesitation in his voice and his face is full of seriousness.
“satoru..” you whisper out finally and reach for your seatbelt. swiftly unlocking it, you throw yourself at him, lips pressing against each other feverishly.
your hands curl around his neck, fingers disappearing in his white hair and you feel him wrap around your waist and move you into his lap. gojo’s tongue pushes into your mouth, salvaging every inch he touches. one of his hands cradles your cheek, thumb gently stroking your soft skin and you feel his other hand slowly moving you against him.
you’re the first one to pull away, just barely a few inches between you, gojo’s hips thrusting upwards to meet yours in the middle. both of your breaths are heavy and the atmosphere is now filled with a different type of tension. the sound of rain sounds distant, you can’t seem to care about the on going storm outside anymore. all you care about is gojo, the love of your life.
“i love you so much” your words are whispered against his lips as he leans up to capture yours in a kiss again.
if gojo wasn’t so occupied with you right now, he would laugh at his parents’ poor attempt to break you two apart. he knows his parent finally realised, how much you mean to him and the growing fear within them taken over.
satoru would do anything for you, even if it meant abandoning the great gojo empire just to be with you.
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@/vrlspace, 2024
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janeyseymour · 3 days
Text
Just Sex
Summary: Melissa is hooking up with the chief at the firehouse, so you decide that you can have your own fun.
WC: ~2.1k
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After the failed relationship and proposal with Gary, Melissa has been going out to bars and staying out late at night. She finds herself in bed with quite a few men and women, and while she’s not thrilled that she’s back to this lifestyle, she’s impressed that she still has what it takes. Getting older did not make it any easier to attract people.
But then one night she sees the fire chief out at the bar, one thing leads to the other, and they’re in a friends with benefits sort of situationship.
Of course, all of this comes out when you’re renewing your CPR training certificate with the Abbott clan, and Barbara has made it quite clear that she’s upset Melissa didn’t tell her of this relationship before.
You had been busy trying to pass your test, but now it’s your partner’s turn to go, and you tune back into the world around you.
“But if I were gonna label it, I would say it’s just sex,” you hear Melissa tell her work wife in a low voice.
You don’t really know what she’s talking about, but you shrug it off. That is, until Janine comes back into the room and asks for the gossip. Barbara of course goes off, claiming that her friend of over fifteen years trusts her no more than a common street stranger. It becomes apparent to you that whatever hookup situation they’re talking about has been going on for a bit of time now. You feel a nasty pit settle in your stomach at that.
That pit only grows when you go out with the crew after the CPR course to celebrate the fact that you all passed. Of course, conversation leads back to Melissa and Jacob both having sexual relations with people from the firehouse.
“Well, I think I blew that one,” Jacob groans as he finishes off his aperol spritz. “But let’s talk about you, Mel Mel.”
“There ain’t nothin’ to talk about,” the redhead waves him off. “It’s just casual sex.”
“Casual sex that’s been going on for how long?” Barbara asks with a raised brow.
Melissa purses her lips as she thinks. “Couple weeks now?”
“A month,” Jacob cuts in. “C’mon, Melissa. When are you just going to admit that you like him?”
“I do not,” she states very clearly. “I just need something to take the edge off for me, and… he does that.”
“How kinky is it?” Ava asks, a smirk on her face.
Jacob opens his mouth, and Melissa very quickly shoves her hand over his mouth. “You say a word, and you’re out on the curb faster than you were out with Zach.”
The man’s eyes widen, and he nods quickly. She pulls her hand away from his mouth, and he breathes a deep sigh in relief. 
“I’m not looking for a relationship or nothing… not unless the right person comes along,” the second grade teacher says as she finishes off her beer.
Barb turns to look at her work wife with a curious face. She knows of the little crush that her best friend has on you. Melissa just nods at the kindergarten teacher’s silent question.
But you don’t take it that way, because you have no idea that Melissa has had her eye on you since before she broke it off with Gary. You see it that you have no chance with your favorite coworker at all.
Feeling as though you could burst into tears at any given moment, you quietly excuse yourself from the rest of the outing and head for your apartment.
“What was that?” Melissa furrows a brow and purses her lips as she gazes in the direction that you left.
“I’m sure it was just a long day for her is all,” Janine tries to come up with some sort of logistical reason as to why you would leave early. “I did have a meeting with her before school even started today, so she’s been up for quite some time.”
Everybody seems to accept that reasoning, and they continue on with their night.
The next day, you march yourself into Ava’s office bright and early.
“Girl, what are you doin? I’m tryna get this knot out of my back,” your principal groans as she shuts off her personal back massager.
“I need your help,” you tell her, not even bothering to acknowledge that she isn’t doing her job at all.
“With?” She leans forward just slightly in her chair.
You smile at her. “I know you know a bunch of people… set me up with someone?”
“Oh, girl,” she laughs. “What’s gotten into you? Every other time I’ve asked if you want someone, you decline!”
“Just… thinking I should get myself out there,” you shrug. “You know? If Melissa can do it, so can I.”
Ava’s jaw drops. “So this is about Melissa.”
“What?”
“I knew you had the hots for her!” the principal grins. 
“What? Not! I- I just figured, if everyone else can have at it, so can I?”
“Oh, girl,” she laughs in your face. “This ain’t you at all, but I am in full support of it. Give me til the end of the day, and I’ll have someone for you.”
You end up going out with a woman that night that Ava set you with, and you do end up actually liking her… and she’s pretty damn good in bed.
The next morning, you’re practically glowing while you drink your morning coffee in the break room. Julie, the woman that you ended up in bed with last night, is texting you about maybe meeting up again later this week.
And if you weren’t still in love with the redhead that comes in a few seconds later, you would say yes. Instead, you send her a text that says, Maybe. Kinda busy the next couple weeks.
She texts you back a picture… a rather scandalous picture. And you blush when you see it.
“What’s got you all giddy today?” the redhead asks as she leans over. She sees the picture before you can close out of it, and her eyebrows creep up her head.
“Who’s that?”
You shrug. “Just someone Ava set me up with.”
“Ava?” Melissa asks in disbelief. “How long have you been seeing her?”
“Not long,” you tell her. “It’s just sex, really.”
The redhead folds her arms over her chest. “I didn’t think you were like that.”
“I’m not, but I figured I might as well give it a shot,” you say. “Now, I have to head to my room to finish up some of my grading, but I’ll see you later.”
You don’t have any intention to see her later. And you don’t. You pull back from her and her group- although most of them still find their ways to you. It’s mostly just the redheaded second grade teacher that you avoid. And it happens that way for a few more days.
You’re in the break room heating up your lunch when Ava comes in. “Girl! Are you gonna text Julie back or not?”
Melissa makes her way in, and you sigh. “It’s just sex. I’m not looking for a relationship or nothing… not unless the right person comes along,” you unintentionally repeat what the second grade teacher had said out at the bar. The microwave indicates that your food is finished, and you pull it out before heading back down to your classroom for lunch.
You miss the scowl on Melissa’s face, but Ava sure as hell doesn’t.
“Girl, you jealous or something?” the principal leans in with a smirk.
“What would I be jealous of?”
“That someone else is hitting that hot piece of ass,” Ava says like it’s obvious. The second grade teacher rolls her eyes, but Ava continues. “I see the way you look at her. Practically undressing her with your eyes every time she walks into the room.”
Melissa crosses her arms again. “I can’t believe you set her up with someone if you knew I like her.”
“I was hoping it would give you a swift kick in the ass that she was gonna start hoeing it up,” Ava shrugs. “Now admit that you’re jealous before everyone else comes in here.”
“Okay, I’m jealous,” the redhead relents. “But it don’t matter anyway. She isn’t lookin’ for anyone- she just said that.”
“She said, and I quote, ‘I’m not looking for a relationship or nothing… not unless the right person comes along. And girl, you’re that person for her!”
Everyone else starts filing in, and Ava makes it so that she looks impossibly bored, although she is actually quite the opposite. “Okay, I’m leaving this snooze fest.” She heads out, but not before giving Melissa a subtle wink and tap on the wrist. “Get it, girl.”
That day, Melissa sits thoughtfully during her lunch period about what Ava said… maybe she’s right? But she can’t be sure, so after dismissal duty, the fiery second grade teacher heads down to the front office and bursts into the principal’s office.
“Schemmenti,” Ava grins. “You do it yet?”
“I ain’t doin’ nothin’ until I’m positive Y/N has a thing for me too,” Melissa sits down across from the woman. “So tell me what you know.”
Ava spends a long time telling the redhead about the various times she’s caught you checking Melissa and only Melissa out, how you always seem to linger around her during events, how the two of you are almost always partners for things now and how you being around always makes her soft and you absolutely bask in her warmth. She even confesses that you went down to her office to ask her to set you up because of Melissa.
“You convinced yet?” the principal asks after ten minutes.
Melissa bites her lip. “Yeah. Okay.”
“I’d make a move quick though. She said something about potentially seeing Julie today.”
“Isn’t that going to piss off your friend that Y/N might leave her for me?”
“She ain’t my friend,” Ava says as she files her nails. “I made a dating profile for Y/N and picked the first mildly attractive woman I saw.”
“You’re unbelievable sometimes,” the redhead pinches the bridge of her nose.
“Maybe, but ain’t you gonna go get your girl?”
Melissa stands from her chair and thanks the principal before rushing out and down your hallway. She hopes to catch you before you head out for the night. And of course, because you’re a dedicated teacher, you’re still there prepping for tomorrow. She knocks on your doorframe and leans against it.
“Just a sec!” you reply cheerily, not turning around yet. You’re hands deep in soil for the gardening project that your students will be participating in tomorrow.
“I don’t got a second,” Melissa says. You whip around at her voice.
“Hey,” you sigh, all joy in your voice gone.
“Don’t go out with Julie tonight,” the redhead tells you.
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because I want you to go out with me instead,” she tells you seriously.
“You’re dating the fire chief,” you deadpan.
“I ain’t dating nobody because the only person I want to date is you,” the redhead admits.
That gets you to drop the dirt that is currently in your hands. “What?”
“I told everyone I was just having casual sex and wasn’t looking for a relationship unless the right person came around because… because the only person I would want to be in a relationship is you, and I didn’t think I had a chance.”
“Melissa, are you an idiot?” You ask her. “I’ve shamelessly flirted with you since you broke it off with Gary and practically thrown myself at you in hopes that you would pick me instead of some random hookup.”
She crosses the room, and she’s kissing you before you even know what’s happening. You instinctively kiss her back, and… wow. When you pull away, you quickly wipe the dirt off of your hands before pulling her in close again.
“Don’t go out with Julie tonight,” she pleads again.
“Don’t go out with the fire chief anymore,” you mumble against her lips.
She nods and mutters, “I already called it off. You cancel on Julie, and meet me at my place?”
You end up at Melissa’s house within the hour, and she wines and dines you. And then you end up in her bed seeing stars. Your legs tremble for what feels like forever before she makes her way back up to you.
“And just so you know,” she husks into your ear. “There ain’t nothin’ casual about this. This ain’t just sex.”
Tags: (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22
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ariel26c · 2 days
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🎀Things I’ve learned about Shifting 🎀
1. Background noise doesn’t matter. I come from a Hispanic family household and let me tell you hun it’s freaking loud as hell. It’s like a zoo lol but guess what? I still shifted. At some point you will start to feel your CR kinda “fade away”. I have been in this state where I am in between my CR and DR. I can hear background noise from my CR but I still feel like I’m in a different room or I hear sounds from my DR as well. Has anyone experienced this?? Let me know, I’m curious 🤨
2. Have patience. Allow yourself to relax and naturally connect to your DR. Don’t stress about having random thoughts or having an itch or things like that. Have patience with yourself like seriously you got this babe. Sometimes for me it’s feels like it’s takes 1 or 2 hours until I feel fully connected to my DR. (It’s different for everyone btw) you may take less time than I do. Those things don’t matter if you decide that those things don’t matter.
3. Methods really aren’t needed. If you think about it all methods consist of the same thing usually. It usually consists of affirmations, visualization, subliminal audios, meditation, counting, blah blah blah. If you want to use a method, then do that but don’t force yourself to do a method that doesn’t resonate with you. If you don’t like counting, then don’t count. If you don’t like visualizing, then don’t visualize. Change things up a bit and listen to music that reminds you of your DR or do something that you think is fun.
4. Just because some people like to lie about their shifting experiences doesn’t mean that shifting is fake. Just like in every community there is going to be people that are dishonest or don’t have the best intentions but that doesn’t mean that shifting is a big inside joke. Don’t allow these people to discourage you from shifting to your DR or make you doubt in its existence. Don’t depend on other people's content to feel motivated or believe in shifting. Just KNOW it’s real and motivate yourself to shift. (even though motivation isn’t needed to shift)
5. Shifting is Real. I think we all should know this by now, but I don’t think people really fully understand just how REAL shifting is. I mean you are going to be able to use all of your senses. You will be able to taste food, see your reflection in the mirror, talk to people that may be considered as fictional in this reality, etc. The process of shifting is safe but if you are shifting somewhere that has violence or gore make sure you script your own well-being. High pain tolerance, no trauma, etc.
6. Time isn't important. Just because it's been 4 years or 5 doesn't mean you can't do it. Time doesn't apply to shifting because time is just man-made thing. We created the concept of time not the Universe. Don't blame the Universe for your "Failure". (Spoiler alert: it's not failure) You just need to realize that no matter what, it will happen. It is completely inevitable. Some people have shifted after 5 years so don't give up! It will be worth it.
7. You can't fail at shifting. When you do your method, you will shift to your DR or shift to your CR. You shift all the time. We are constantly shifting consciously or unconsciously. Manifestation and shifting are very much closely related. (But that's another discussion for another time) Just like how we are manifesting on autopilot we are also shifting on autopilot. So, when you do a sleep method, and you wake up in this reality instead of your DR you still shifted. (Just not to your DR) (Get it?)
I hope you found this post helpful! :)
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✯my entry for the @croptopjames fest✯
jegulus | 1.3k | non-canon/magical au
summary:
It was revenge, they say, for a prank they played on the other houses. So if Lupin and Pettigrew got their trousers turn into shorts, and Black got his shirt turn into a crop top, then that means Potter—
“Did you hear what happened?”
“They say it was revenge for a prank on the other houses,”
“Seems like a weird way to take revenge,”
“Someone said it was a new statement for the dress code,”
“Of course those Gryffindors would come up with something like that,”
“Mila from my transfiguration class says someone charmed their clothes to transform into something else whenever they wear it. You know, trousers turn into shorts and—”
“Oh, so that’s why Lupin and Pettigrew were wearing shorts! But why was Black’s shirt cropped? Not that I mind the view but—”
“Maybe the spell worked in pairs? If Lupin and Pettigrew got shorts, and Black’s shirt was cropped, then maybe Potter got—”
But Regulus had heard enough.
He should’ve known something was off the moment he crossed Lupin and Pettigrew earlier that day wearing shorts of all things, but if he was completely honest with himself, his mind was somewhere else and didn’t even think twice about it. But now, after eavesdropping on a conversation of some sixth years, maybe he shouldn’t have been so dismissive.
Entering the Great Hall for lunch, Regulus makes a b-line for his seat at the end of the Slytherin table and starts filling his plate absentmindedly, trying to ignore the sight of his brother at the Gryffindor table, talking animatedly to Lupin and Pettigrew, still in those ridiculous clothes. His mind inevitably going to the person who’s conveniently, not among them.
The thing is, Regulus isn’t capable of thinking of a piece of clothing that would look bad on James Potter.
He has seen the guy practising on the Quidditch pitch for Salazar’s sake. He has had a front row of what James’ body looks like when he leans on his broom, quaffle in hand, gaining some speed over his fellow teammates. He has seen how his forearms look when he grips the handle hard and how his thighs squeeze the rear of the broom when he’s doing a particularly hard move so he doesn’t fall.
So no, he doesn't think there’s a piece of clothing that would look bad on him, he could pull any look, especially a crop top, and that is the problem, isn’t it?
Regulus could feel his cheeks warming at the thought. Oh no this is bad, what he’s going to do if he sees him wearing that? He’s going to make a fool of himself and he can’t afford that. No, Regulus needs to get the fuck out of there if he wants to make it with his dignity intact.
Practically stuffing his face, Regulus tries to be as quick as possible, cursing in his mind at the idiot who hexed James Potter to be stuck with that particular piece of clothing, or lack thereof, more like.
“Let it not be said that we don’t do anything nice for you, Regulus,” a voice comes from behind and Regulus freezes and then groans.
Looking up from his plate, he eyes the pair who has taken the seats in front of him, both looking smug as fuck, “You guys are unbelievable,”
Evan hums in agreement, “Aren’t we just?”
“Wasn’t a compliment,”
Barty tuts disapprovingly, stealing a piece of food from Regulus' plate and popping it in his mouth, “Why Regulus, we thought you would be thrilled by this, can’t believe you’re this ungrateful.”
“Crop tops, really?” He huffs, stabbing whatever is left of his chicken, “And don’t get me started on the shorts.”
“Those were my idea,” Evan mentions.
Regulus doesn’t get it, “Why though?”
“We couldn’t be so obvious and only hex Potter, we had to cover our traces,” Barty says, turning his head slightly to look at the Gryffindor table. “Besides, the others look ridiculous, minus your brother of course, the bastard is fit as fuck.”
“Why though?” Regulus repeats, this time even more aggravated at the notion of Barty ogling his brother.
Evan gives him a pointed look, “You know why,”
Regulus drop his gaze, sniffing lightly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,”
Barty smirks at him, “You will,”
There’s a sudden ruckus at the entrance. The voices grow loud and you could hear some whistles here and there but what actually catches Regulus’ eyes when he looks up, is the man at the doors.
Something inside him is pleased to notice he was right about James looking good in any piece of clothing, especially something that would show his really fit body. James is looking a little dishevelled, but that only makes him look even prettier. Still enthralled by the sight of James Potter wearing something this sinful, Regulus notices a little too late a voice shouting really close to him, efficiently taking him out of his rivery.
“Looking good, Potter!”
“Barty!” Regulus hisses in embarrassment as James looks in his direction. And oh, the way he smiles at Regulus as soon as their eyes connect.
Regulus is incapable of doing much else under the intensity of that look, he wants to run like he had planned before. He wants to hide, not only from James but from the way he feels when he’s near. Pathetic as it is, the only thing Regulus is capable of doing is following James as he makes his way to the Slytherin table.
Regulus blinks hard at that. Wait, Slytherin table?
Before Regulus can process that, James is already standing right in front of him.
“Rosier, Crouch,” he greets them, still not taking his eyes off Regulus.
“Potter,” Barty nods in his direction. “Nice shirt, does it come in men’s?”
James grin turns sharp, “You don’t want me to answer that, Crouch,”
“Okay, time to go, have a great one!” Evan practically drags Barty aways as the latter cackles like a madman all the way out of the Great Hall.
When his laugh fades, James is still in front of Regulus and Regulus is purposefully looking at anything but his face, so his gaze inevitably fall at the only thing at his eye-level, James’ stomach.
There are beads of sweet running down over that beautiful golden skin and all Regulus wants, is to touch it to see if it’s as soft as it looks. Wondering how it would feel under his teeth.
James clears his throat to catch Regulus' attention. Unnecessary, since he hasn’t lost it the moment he entered the Great Hall.
“So, Regulus,” he starts.
“Yes?” He can see the trail of hair disappearing under the navy trousers. He’s having a hard time not to reach out and touch it.
He’s being so brave about this whole thing, someone should notified his mind-healer.
A beat of silence and then a hand, reaching for his chin and turning his face up, callous fingers against his soft skin. The sight of James’ playful smile makes something inside him melt.
“My eyes are up here, love.”
His cheeks get warmer out of the embarrassment of being caught. Not that he was subtle in the least but still, embarrassing.
James doesn’t seem to mind in the least.
“You’re blushing,” he notices.
Regulus' face is practically red at this point.
“Shut up,” he grumbles and James chuckles.
“No, no, I like it,” he says, voice soft. “Red looks good on you,” and then he proceed to fucking caressing his cheek.
It’s settled then, Regulus is living inside a romantic novel where making a fool out of yourself in front of someone you fancy is necessary and crop tops are a thing.
“What do you want?”
“Just wanting to say hello,” James says, eyes softening. “Hello,”
“Hi,” Regulus says, like an idiot.
“Fancy a Quidditch game with me?”
Regulus frowns. “Right now?”
“Why not?”
“You’re not wearing the proper gear,”
James smirks, “I think I will manage,”
This is a bad idea, a terrible one and Regulus knows it, everyone knows it and yet— “Lead the way then,”
James lets his hand drop from his face, and it takes all of Regulus not to chase the touch, but the feeling of loss is quickly replaced with excitement when he sees James holding his hand up for Regulus to take.
Regulus does, of course he does.
Hand in hand, they make it to the Quidditch pitch.
Together.
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sunnyaelia · 2 days
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Recipe for Love
this is for the lovely anon who asked for it 💓 double upload today and I’ll probably upload the Leah fic as well later so the people that wanted to read it again don’t have to wait :)
the request was this:
hello! I have to say I love your writing and if it's okay to consider this request. R is new to the barca team coming from England, but she's reserved. sticking to Lucy or Keira, hardly talks and gets spooked when someone tries to interact with her. aitana tries her best to interact with r and r gets more closer to aitana and they end up dating. thank you!
light angst and then a whole lot of comfort 💓
-
You’re as grateful as back then shortly before you stepped out into the Wembley Stadium for the Euros finale, that Lucy is the actual calmness in person and has no issue with you squeezing her hand until it’s blue. 
“No need to be nervous.” Keira appears next to you, giving you a gentle pat on your shoulder. “They’re all very nice.” 
You nod though you still feel like throwing up. Why didn’t you just stay with Arsenal? You could be walking into the familiar red changing rooms right now, talking with Leah and joking with Katie about her impressive resume of yellow cards surrounded by people you know.
Instead you were about to walk into Barcelonas changing room for the first time, not a single soul familiar apart from the two beside you right now. You’re not really willing to start walking but Lucy tugs you forward, making you follow her. 
When she opens the door of the changing room where everyone’s in already, you regret that you went with Lucy and Keira to your first team training, because of course Lucy yells up for everyone to pay attention and then introduces you. 
Countless pairs of eyes are on you in a split second and you’re quick to look down to the ground. One by one they come over to give you a short hug and introduce themselves - although you obviously know them all already. Either from past games or because you’ve been obsessed with googling and trying to find out as much about this team as possible as soon as you got the offer. 
You barely registrate who the various people talking to you are, too focused on trying to keep your breathing steady - until Aitana Bonmati herself steps in front of you. Unlike the others she doesn’t tower over you, merely maybe one centimetre taller. She gives you a sweet smile before introducing herself as if she wasn’t literally Aitana Bonmati. You try to shake your nervousness off and accept the hug she gives you, the older woman squeezing you once before she lets go, making place for the next person by going back to her cubby as she throws you another look over her shoulder. You hope it’s not because you seem rude, oblivious to the knowing glance Lucy and Keira exchange with a small smile. 
Once everyone has said hello, Alexia tells you where to put your stuff and thankfully it’s right in the middle of Lucy and Keira. It seems that they all planned to have you close to Lucy and Keira, wanting to make you feel more comfortable with your English teammates as you get adjusted. 
Well, that quickly comes back to bite them. You only do drills with someone else if you get told by Jona to do so, otherwise sticking with Lucy or Keira who thankfully don’t mind since you’re really good at the drills and make them work for it. 
You are also in general glued to either Keira and Lucy, preferring Keira on the pitch since she was the best training partner and was so difficult to take the ball from and choosing Lucy to sit next to during meals because she was always super involved and talkative so you didn’t have to say anything. 
Both Lucy and Keira were concerned with how much you avoided to interact with anyone else on the team, lost as to why since everyone was being very nice. Still, you looked like a deer in headlights every time someone other than those two spoke to you. 
Lucy had taught you a few words and phrases in Spanish and the team spoke English when they were around you to make it easier for you to involve yourself into the conversation, but you always just listened and nodded along. 
You weren’t being rude which is why Alexia hesitated to do anything about it, pretty certain that you’d feel like you’re getting criticised if she told you outright to please try and talk more to the others. 
Aitana was also unsure on how to handle this. She had been really excited when she saw the news that you’d be joining Barca, having had a crush on you since back then at the England v Spain Euros game where you had sent a cheeky nutmeg through her legs with no shame only to blush shyly later on when your teammates congratulated you on your absolute banger of a goal. She found you incredibly endearing and had been looking forward to spend time with you, showing you Barcelona and maybe getting you to agree on a date with her. Even attempting to get you to say more than one word to her was a challenge though - she knew you were just painfully shy and nervous and it had nothing to do with her. After all she had seen that you could be quite outgoing actually, having listened in with a small smile as you animatedly told Keira about one of your new interests who had shook her head with a chuckle. 
But still, Aitana was tired of not getting any chance to really talk to you, therefore deciding to do something about it. She knew that you’d be mortified if she called you out on it, so she was gentle but firm about it. First approaching Keira, knowing that she would be less likely to tease whereas Lucy would not let it go if she told her that she wanted to talk to you so badly. 
Keira did send her a knowing smile but agreed easily to give you a gentle push to pair up with Aitana on the pitch. 
You didn’t know anything about this and so you were floored when Aitana showed up right in front of you during training and asked you to pair up with her, Keira basically evaporating into thin air, leaving you to have to say yes. 
You were extremely nervous and Aitana could tell, leading you quite far away from the others who were training on the pitch and deciding to start slowly with some passes. Then it was just some dribbling exercises as she had seen how good you were at those but you barely tried, just passing the ball back to her, way too insecure about potentially embarrassing yourself in front of someone who literally won the Ballon d’Or. 
Aitana stayed patient, not wanting you to think she was getting mad and pretty certain that you would simply get bored of not doing anything soon anyway. And she was right, when she passed you the ball for the 100th time you really felt like a little dribbling wouldn’t hurt, tired of just standing there instead of doing what you love. 
So you two began actually doing the exercise together now and you couldn’t deny that it was fun - after a bit Aitana even tried to steal the ball which was evaded by you quickly dribbling it past her and she let out a laugh when her foot only hit air. You smiled when you heard the sound, the whistle from Jona telling you that it’s time for a break. 
You were intent on joining Lucy and Keira again but were stopped by Aitana wrapping an arm around you, gentle but firmly and leading you with her to the cooler with the water bottles. Both Lucy and Keira stayed pretty far away and watched with a smile as you interacted with Aitana who had no problem leading the majority of the conversation, happily asking question after question now that she finally had a chance to really talk to you.
She was still quite close, sometimes brushing her arm against yours or patting your shoulder at some of her words. 
Talking to her was fun and a lot easier than you thought, her English accent absolutely adorable and you were very thankful that she was willing to speak English instead of Spanish with you - her English definitely far better than your Spanish though it was still endearing to see how she sometimes stumbled over words or was unsure of how to say it in English so she just gave you the wildest descriptions. 
It also impressed you, seriously admiring how she had no problem putting herself out there and speaking a foreign language just to interact with you - the confidence something you were quite far away from.
In the second half of training you teamed up with her again, you barely getting a choice as she just grabbed you and led you away. It was fun again and this time you played seriously from the start, finally letting Aitana see just how good you were. No wonder Barcelona had put in offer after offer until Arsenal couldn’t say no anymore to that price.
Over the next weeks Aitana did not let up, now it was always her teaming up with you, making sure you were laughing and relaxed by the end of it but also testing your skills constantly, often leaving you a bit frustrated at how she seemingly had a magnet in her boots to lead the ball away from your feet. You had already agreed with the decision before but now you really understood just why she had received the Ballon D’or.
She ensured that it was just the two of you in the beginning but then dragged you into team conversations, making sure to involve you and always one arm around your shoulders to give you an anchor. She knew it was important that you interacted with the others before you completely missed that train and never build any kind of teammate relationship with them. 
And it worked - at the beginning you were still mostly silent but Aitana just asked countless questions directed at you specifically so you’d have to answer and give everyone a chance to get to know you. Over time you actually started to react to some of the teasing and got into hilarious discussions with Mapi about why dogs are superior to cats - Mapi of course vehemently disagreeing. In the end, you were the one to give in when she told you to come over to her house, pet Bagheera and then look into her eyes and tell her again that dogs are better. 
You had laughed but in the end agreed when she wouldn’t stop pestering you about visiting. Needless to say you were absolutely in awe of the black cat and agreed that dogs and cats were both incredibly great which Mapi could definitely get behind with. 
Aitana had been following the playful argument between you two and felt a sting at how you agreed to go to Mapis house but not hers. Granted, she hadn’t invited you so far so maybe she was being a bit unfair. 
Realising that now that you were building up genuine friendships with the team, she had to one up herself if she wanted to be the one who was closest to you, she invited you over for one of her self cooked meals and was absolutely thrilled when you didn’t even argue and seemed genuinely happy to come over. 
The evening was great, you were noticeably a bit nervous and Aitana didn’t have a cat that would calm you down but she had her smile which worked wonders for you, having gotten so used to the comfort she provided. 
The meal was absolutely perfect and you told Aitana that you would definitely need the recipe for that one so you could copy it.
She was a bit hesitant to give it to you though. 
“You don’t need the recipe, I will cook for you, sí?” You laughed, certain that she’d grow tired of you asking for this every second day pretty soon, deciding on teasing her a bit on her reluctance to share.
“Is it like a family recipe that you can’t hand out? Or do put some disgusting ingredients in it? Like three strands of hair and some toenails?”
You again had to laugh when Aitana grimaced at your words and acted like she was going to throw up. Having gotten quite comfortable with her now, you unabashedly poked her into her side, intent on annoying her a bit. 
It was a massive change to you a few weeks ago, you would have been mortified at the prospect of annoying her and would have never done it on purpose. Which was why Aitana accepted it with a happy grin, though with her being very ticklish she squealed when you started to tickle her, leaning over her to try and stop her from escaping. 
She was squirming underneath you, laughing loudly and when you asked her again why she didn’t want to give the receipt to you, she decided to take her chance and be honest. 
She was quick to roll over you and pin your hands down, settling herself on your stomach as if this was a normal thing to do between friends - granted, she was Spanish after all so maybe it really was normal for her. You swallowed hard as she looked down at you, a teasing smile on her lips. 
“You want to know why I don’t want to give you the recipe?”
You only nodded, unsure your voice would work with how intensively she was staring at you right now. 
“Well,” her thumb began tracing your wrist slightly from where she was still holding it down, causing goosebumps to quickly spread all over. 
“If I give it to you, then you won’t show up here anymore to let me cook for you. And I’d be terribly sad.”
Your eyes widened a bit. She had said it so seriously that you were quite sure she was being flirty but you didn’t trust your judgement right now since it was most certainly clouded by an extremely attractive and funny woman sitting right on top of you at the moment. 
“I’d still show up.” Your voice is slightly breathless, chest rising and falling a lot faster than usually and Aitanas satisfied smile tells you that she noticed. 
She leans down further, eyes locked onto yours. 
“Promise?” 
Her lips are dangerously close to yours right now, almost touching. 
“Yes.” 
In the next moment her lips are on yours, soft but demanding and quickly eliciting a very breathy moan from you at how good she was at it. She definitely knew what she was doing as she very gently slid her tongue into your mouth, carefully pushing it a bit against yours to test the waters. You wanted to pull her closer but couldn’t, still held down by her hands on your wrists which caused you to protest, trying to squirm yourself out from underneath her. 
She quickly separated, releasing your wrists and an apology ready on her lips as she thought for a moment that she had gone too far. She didn’t get a word out though because as soon as your hands were free you grabbed her and pulled her back in again, your hands wandering over her back to her shoulders and tangling in her hair as you pressed your lips to hers once more. Smiling into the kiss when she realised what you’d apparently been upset about, she involved her tongue into it again, her own hands being free to explore your body now which she quickly made use of. You could feel the way she traced along your waist, one hand dipping underneath and inching down towards your ass - though she stopped at your lower back, only a few fingers dangerously close to where you wanted them as she instead pressed herself more down onto you. She wanted to feel you closer, get a chance to freely explore the body she had more or less sneakily checked out countless times these past weeks.
She made sure to stay above your clothes though, not wanting to rush into this and content with just kissing you for now. Although she couldn’t deny the heat in her lower parts at some of your soft sighs while her tongue was caressing your mouth, the breathy moan that escaped you when she lightly bit down onto your lower lip was enough for her to wonder what other sounds she could get out of you. She found out soon enough when she did finally trail her hands over your ass and squeezed it, the mix of a gasp and moan from you was pure heaven as she couldn’t resist a teasing smile, storing this particular piece of information away for a later time when she’d get to have her way with you.
It was still important to her to do this right though, being very intent on actually dating you and not letting this be just a one time thing so it would have to wait and she’d give you some time to adjust to all of this. The last thing she wanted was to make you uncomfortable or scare you off because she was going too fast.
So, when you had to separate for a moment, both completely out of breath with swollen lips and a dopey smile on your face she gently reached out to caress one of your now slightly rosy cheeks. 
“I’ll give you the recipe if you go on a real date with me.” 
You chuckled and couldn’t resist pulling her into your arms, letting out a deep breath at the feeling of her strong arms tightening around you. 
“I think I’d actually prefer dating you and you just cook it for me every time I want.” She pulled away from you for a moment at that, a teasing smile on your face as she grinned at your words, one hand reaching out and her thumb softly tracing your now swollen and reddened lips. 
“Deal.” 
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suguru-getos · 2 days
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Not sure if your requests are open or not, but if they are would you pretty please write a yandere Gojo who's darling is upset because he left her alone on her birthday to go "play" with his new best friend Geto instead? Like, he legit forgot it was anyone's birthday at all? But his darling tries to be sweet and understanding even though she's deeply hurt by him suddenly neglectjbg her so much? Pretty please and thank you. 😘🙏
Heyy!! I don’t take requests but I really like this prompt. Thanks for sending 🙇🏻‍♀️🩵 to be very honest Yandere Gojo would never forget his darling’s birthday. :DD Even normal Toru chan wouldn’t. ;))
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Warnings: Toxic Toru :(( // Reader doesn’t really love love him but is in a major Stockholm Syndrome typa-thang. Forced fluff, implied sexual thingys.
You sighed, it’s been long past twelve and out of all the people who have wished you yet, Satoru isn’t one of them. It hurts because he could have gotten super mad and punished you for forgetting his birthday. Coming up with excuses thar you forgot the one person’s special day who should be meaning the most to you. A shiver runs through your spine to imagine the extent of his rage if that were to happen. Is it because you’re powerless compared to him? Is that why he doesn’t care about you? Why else would he go around Geto Suguru and not you.
Satoru comes back around 2 am, a little tipsy but you know he’s a lightweight so he must’ve not drunk much. He watches your tired eyes draping his form and raises a brow. “Aww, how cute? My Princess stayed up for me? You wanted to sleep with me that bad sweetheart?” Your lip quivered at his familiar, patronizing tone. It was your birthday. Your birthday! God damn it!
You looked down, trying to form the right words. “Toru, s’ my birthday today. I waited for your wish.”
It’s like he’s been anchored by the feet at rock bottom sea. He can’t breathe — surely he must not — oh fuck! He did. He forgot his sweet princess’ birthday… shit! “Oh- oh no- I’m so sorry! Oh no-” his beefy arms are quick to wrap around you, hugging you snug against his chest. “Please baby, m’ sorry. You never make a biggie out of it so I forgot.” He pouted, kissing your forehead and stealing apologetic kisses. You gnaw at your lip and looked down. “It’s okay, Toru.” Oh he knows it’s not okay.
Part of him dreads that you’d leave him & he doesn’t want to, but he’s close to acting out. “Are you going to leave me because of it, Cupcake?” He asks tenderly, though you know better & you’ve learnt better. “N-no! Of course not Toru. I’d never leave you.” You shake your head no like a trained bobblehead. Satoru takes a sigh, six-eyes trying to find out any hidden intents behind your words.
He sighed with defeat, “Pretty girl, I know, that was so careless and bad of me. Really bad. Let me make it up to you? I’d let you meet your friends!” He chirped. To live under Gojo Satoru means to live under his wing & his wing alone. He couldn’t care less if you’re lonely. All the more reason to ensure that your world revolves around him, no?
“Come here.” He craddles you against his lap, kissing your knuckles, your chin, your forehead, leaning in and kissing your clothed breasts. With Satoru, you’d never know how things might turn sexual. You do resist this time though, you don’t have the emotional capacity to endure this & be treated like a toy.
“I’m sorry Toru, can’t.” You leaned away with a subtle flinch. His brows furrow at the rejection but he knows he’s fucked up. “Alright Baby girl. I wouldn’t. Ssh~ let me make it up.” His phone comes out & he orders a cake — of course he would know your favorite flavor by now. He grins wide. “Thank god it’s still night ~ Tomorrow, I’m going to make sure you forget my fuck up! I promise!” He sounds so determined it helps you to feel less shitty. However the neglect still seeps through. Maybe because you’ve been living with him that he’s taking you for granted.
A snap of fingers shoves your trail of thoughts astray. “Ssh~ eyes here, mind here.” Satoru cooes, cupping your face and leaning his forehead against yours. “You know I love you, right? To the point of insanity.” It’s when he starts to get serious that makes you uncomfortable. You squirm a little at his words, nodding meekly.
“Then stop thinking wild thoughts or Toru has to be mean to your meanie thoughts & you wouldn’t like it.” He says it in such a delirious baby-talking way it makes you choke out on any thoughts whatsoever anyway. “Y-yeah..”
You know Satoru will make a big deal out of your birthday tomorrow. Might as well enjoy, even if it’s forced.
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