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souliebird · 7 months

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[[and then I met you || ch. 8]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Words: 3.9k

There is a pigeon perched on the streetlamp that sits on the north corner of the block. It's got some sort of stick, most likely, and has been unsuccessfully trying to make a nest for the past hour. Given that the streetlamp is curved, this is a very bad idea, but the bird doesn't know that. The poor things weren't meant to be in the wild and a single stick is not going to save its egg from falling off if it chooses to lay it there. But it keeps at it, picking up the stick and putting it back down at different angles.

Matt very much understands the dumb bird's struggles. He has no idea what the hell he is doing, either. He felt, finally, after many a year, he actually had his shit together. And sure, maybe it was held together with duct tape, a lot of ibuprofen, and multiple prayers, but it was stable and balanced. He had a handle on things, for the most part.

He was doing what he loved, in all aspects of his life - defending people with the law and with his fists. He had Foggy and Karen, and he was working more with the Defenders, and he could be in Frank's presence without a fist fight happening. There was a drop in crime in Hell's Kitchen - he'd stopped the last two crime families who had tried to set up shop here before they even had a foot hold.

Then everything in his universe changed and Matt is now the human equivalent of a pigeon trying to lay an egg on a streetlamp.

He never thought he would be a father. It was something he dreamed about, in the deep recesses of his mind, but he never thought it would be a reality. Not with Daredevil. But, oh did God love to yank on his chain and remind Matt he had no clue what His plans were for him.

Matt wouldn't change it for the world, though. Something fundamental in him changed the moment the words had left your mouth and when he met Minnie for the first time, he knew he was a goner.

He would happily throw himself into the pits of Hell if it would make his daughter smile.

He wants so much to be a good father. Everything in him aches to be half as good as his own father was to him, but he doesn't know how, and he is terrified of fucking it up.

Because if there is one thing Matthew Murdock is good at its fucking things up. Especially when he thinks he means well.

So, Matt is taking in all the lessons God has taught him over the last few years and going against his instincts and he is going to ask for help.

Foggy and Karen should be at his door any minute, if they stop pausing to talk on the stairs, and Matt is going to tell them everything.

He hasn't been this nervous in years and he can't stop pacing. He's pretty sure he's going to wear his path into his floor if he keeps going, but he just adds it to all the other damage the apartment has incurred over the years. It's not like he's getting his security deposit back anyways.

He wants to open his front door and yell at his friends to hurry up, but he doesn't want to alarm them. They know something is up with him, Matt apparently wears his emotions on his sleeve, but they don't know what. He suspects Karen might have an inkling because Karen has an extra sense when it comes to detecting secrets, but Foggy is clueless and Matt doesn't want to worry him.

He allows himself to stop pacing once they reach his landing and tells himself to walk calmly once they knock on the door.

He prides himself in not wrenching the thing off its hinges from his nerves and gives his friends a beaming smile, "I thought you'd never make it up the stairs."

"Oh good," Foggy chimes, clapping Matt on the shoulder as he walks by, "He's still being weird."

"I'm not being weird," Matt counters quickly, only for Karen to pat his cheek when she passes him.

"You're being weird."

He shuts and locks the door before following them into his main living area. Foggy goes straight for the fridge, browsing his beer options while Karen takes residence on the couch. He doesn't need to be able to see to know she's staring at the two big binders sitting on the coffee table.

"Buddy," Foggy starts, popping three beers open with a hiss of the bottles, "the past few weeks you have been Grade A weird. You keep getting this dopey look on your face and spacing out. And usually," he continues, walking leisurely to the couch and handing Karen her beer first, before giving Matt his, "I would suspect a woman, or a man, because the heart wants what the heart or dick wants, but I know Matt Murdock falling for a girl weird. This isn't that type of weird. And this isn't Daredevil weird, because you get broody when it's that. This weird? I don't know this weird. So, spill Murdock, why are you being weird."

"And don't tell us it's nothing," Karen adds. Her beer sloshes in the bottle, indicating she's pointing it at him. "Because I agree with Foggy. We don't know this weird."

Matt deflates just slightly. He guesses he's been way less subtle than he thought he was being.

"Fine, I've been weird, BUT," he says with emphasis, "It's for a very good reason and I want it on the record that I was not hiding anything or keeping it secret. I was confirming all the facts before presenting my case. I.." he pauses to choose his words carefully, "didn't want to get ahead of myself."

"You didn't want to get ahead of yourself?" Foggy confirms and he gives a nod.

The response is for both Karen and Foggy to take long sips of their respective beers. Matt's nerves are too riled up to drink his, yet so he starts to scratch at the label to get the energy out.

"So, this is Devil related?" Foggy asks. There's a hint of disappointment and exhaustion in his voice and it makes Matt's heart hurt. He has really put his best friend through it, hasn't he?

"No. Well, yes, but no. It's complicated." Because the Devil is involved by default because it is Matt and it will be something that needs to be addressed down the road, but for right now, no. Not Devil related.

"That's not very reassuring," Karen points out.

"Just tell us, buddy. Whatever it is, we're here for you."

That makes Matt's lips turn down, "It isn't a bad thing, Fog."

"Well, we wouldn't know that because you've told us nothing," Foggy counters.

His instinct is to keep bantering with Foggy and he knows they can go at it for another hour, but he reminds himself of his resolve and settles back into the couch.

He's practiced his speech about a dozen times but all of it dies in his throat and the truth comes out on its own, blunt and to the point.

"I am a father."

Foggy has the more intense reaction, confirming Matt's suspension that Karen had an idea at the truth. His best friend inhales sharply, heart starting to beat harder in his chest. His body is sending all sorts of signals, and this is one of the times Matt wishes he could see - just to know what expression Foggy has.

It feels like hours before Fog finally says something.

"You're going to be a father?"

"No," Matt corrects, "I AM a father. I already am."

Karen leans forward, her spine creaking and her hair swishing, "The little girl. From last week. That's her, isn't it?"

Matt nods, feeling a smile start to pull at his cheeks, "Yeah. That was her."

"Oh my God, Matt!" He hears her weight shift as she pushes herself across the couch and right into Matt, loosely throwing her arms around his shoulders. He leans into it, hugging her back with the arm not holding his beer. "She is adorable!"

"She is, isn't she?" He preens.

Foggy's brain finally seems to process the information and he sits on the arm of one of the chairs, like he needs the support, "Wait, no, that was a toddler, wasn't it? That child was like five."

"She's three. And a half." Matt says as Karen pulls away from him to go back to her spot.

Foggy's bottle of beer sloshes and Matt imagines he's holding up his hands in a mock surrender. "Sorry, three and a half. Plus, nine months that would…Jesus, Matt, that's before we started the firm. The first time."

"Blasphemy, Foggy. And.. Yeah, the Christmas before we started the firm. When we were still at L and Z," he allows himself a sip of beer before diving into his explanation, "That Christmas party we went to, the one good one we ditched the L and Z one for."

Foggy shakes his head, "I was with you that whole night, Matt."

"Until you ditched me for the French woman," he gently reminds his best friend.

Foggy goes quiet and he must be trying to remember. Matt can tell Karen is watching like a hawk, keen eyes and ears trying to unravel the whole story.

"I forgot about the French woman. She ditched me and I guess I assumed you left and…" Fog trails off.

"Well, I did leave, to be fair," he reminds them. "Just not alone."

"Jesus, Matt," Foggy repeats and he lets it slide this time. He'll say an extra Hail Mary for him. "Did you not wrap it up?"

Both Karen and Matt give a bark of laughter.

"Of course, I did. And she was on the pill, but you know that is not a guarantee."

"Why come forward now?" Karen asks, redirecting the conversation.

"She didn't know who I was. She says she tried to find me, and she wasn't lying. Then she saw that interview we did and recognized me," he tells them.

He hears Foggy rub at his jaw and Matt just knows his brain is going into lawyer mode.

"But why did she tell you," Karen pushes, and he can tell she's looking for an angle that isn't there.

He ducks his chin just slightly and goes back to playing with the beer label, "It's not like that. It's not. She wants what is best for Minnie. She wanted me to be aware and have the option to get to know her. She was fully prepared for me to turn her away. She had already signed the forms waiving her right to ask for child support. The only thing she wanted was to know my family medical history."

"Her name is Minnie?" Karen cooes and that warms Matt's heart. He suddenly very much understands your need to gush over your daughter.

"It is. Winifred Love. She goes by Minnie or Mouse," he knows he's smiling like an idiot, but he can't help it.

"That is such a sweet name," Karen hums and he can hear her smile.

"It is," he agrees, then he tilts his head towards Foggy, his voice dropping to something almost apologetic. "I didn't tell you because I wanted to be sure. She wasn't lying when she said I was the father, but that could have been because she believed I was. And I am. We got a paternity test and I wanted…I wanted it to be official. Real. Before I told you. And now it is. My name is going to be added to her birth certificate. I filed the paperwork and everything."

He can't nail down how Foggy is reacting and that scares him. He doesn't want his best friend to be upset with him, again. He was really, really trying to do the right thing this time.

Foggy finally, finally pushes himself off the chair and steps around the coffee table before enveloping Matt in a tight hug. Matt hugs him back, just as tightly.

"I'm so happy for you, buddy," Fog breathes against him. The corners of his eyes start to sting, and Matt tells himself he is Not going to cry.

Foggy holds him for a good thirty seconds before letting go and stepping away, "Okay, before we jump into the whole Daredevil -"

"I'm going to tell her," Matt cuts his friend off. He puts his beer down and leans forward to put his elbows on his knees, "Not right now, but I completely intend to. If I can trust her. I think I can, but we've only just really met again. But I've learned. From both of you. I want to do this right. I want to tell her about my senses, first, and then we can build up to the other stuff. Once I am completely sure I can trust her."

Neither Karen nor Foggy respond to him right away and he has the feeling they are having a complete conversation with just their eyes. He waits. He doesn't want to rush them either. Matt wants to go into this with all of them on the same page. It's important to him.

They are his family, too.

"Tell us about them," Karen finally says and Matt doesn't even try to fight the grin that spreads across his face.

He tells them your name, then reaches for the first of the binders - the one that is twice the size of the other.

"She's…she's Good. You'll like her. She, uh, made me this, kind of big guide to our daughter. Everything I need to know and it's…in Braille. She knew I couldn't read print, so uh, all of Minnie's life she's been requesting copies of documents in Braille for when she found me." He pushes the binder towards Karen, and she picks it up in a flash, starting to flip through the pages.

"This is pretty detailed," she hums, before cooing again, "There's pictures. Look, Fog."

Foggy walks around the couch to stand behind Karen. Matt can tell that even though they are both Happy for him, they are worried, and he more than understands. He knows once he tells them more, that worry will fade.

He just needs to drop the final off the bombshells.

He licks his lips, clears his throat, then throws himself into the open, "Minnie is like me. She has my senses."

They both go as still as they can, taking identical sharp inhales.

"Not as…intense as mine, I don't think, but she has them. I.. Confirmed it. She could hear an ice cream truck four city blocks away."

"Matt…" Foggy starts and Matt shakes his head.

"We had a conversation, Fog. Clear across the park. I was whispering. She's…she's like me. She was born with it, but she's adapted, for the most part. Her mom just thinks she's sensitive, and she is, and she…she.." he motions with his hand, trying to convey what he wants to say, "Her mom helps. She gets her these headphones to block out sounds and all these things to help her. She just does it, she's doesn't question the why. All those little stupid things that make my life more annoying - the smell of cleaning supplies and how food tastes like the sewer or that certain fibers feel like sandpaper - Minnie deals with those and her Mom does her best so that she doesn't have to suffer. And that's…I need your help." He taps the second, smaller binder. "She made me a guide, so I want to make her one. I just…I don't know how."

He deflates a little. Over the past two weeks, he's done his best to type things up, things he thinks will help, but he has no clue if any of it makes sense to anyone but him.

"Oh, Matt," Karen hands the big binder off to Foggy, then leans forward to take Matt's hand in her own, squeezing it tightly, "Of course we will help you."

"We will make the best how to deal with your bat radar guide that has ever existed, bud. You can count on us," Foggy adds, starting to flip through the binder himself.

That evaporates Matt's doubt, and he huffs out a laugh, "I don't think there is another guide, Fog."

"Then we will set the standard for human bat radar guides," Karen counters with mirth.

"I'll drink to that," his best friend says, once again moving so he can grab his drink. He raises the bottle in a toast, "To the best damn bat radar guide there will ever be, and to Matt, whose man whore ways have blessed us with another him!"

Matt scoops up with beer with a laugh and clinks his bottle against Foggy's, Karen's joining a moment later.

"To Minnie," Karen adds and that makes Matt beam.

"To Minnie!"

They all take long pulls on their beers then set them down on the table.

Matt can practically feel Karen grinning at him, "What?"

"I want stories," she says, reaching over to shake his arm, "You've told us the big picture, I want to know about this little pumpkin. How many times have you gotten to meet her?"

"A few times," he says, unable to hide his own smile. "She calls me Mister Matt. We haven't told her who I am yet. We want her to be comfortable and I…want her to want me to be her father, you know?" He hears both of them nod and he keeps barreling on. "She's…she's perfect. She's so sweet - she loves to use her manners, you know? Please and Thank yous. And she just wants to help, with anything. She's pretty good for a three year old at being a Guide. I'm learning a lot about what she thinks is important."

"What is important?" Foggy asks, and Matt can hear the underlying happiness in his voice and that makes Matt giddy.

"Colors. How soft something looks. If it has a name and how it's feeling." He grins and adds, "At the park she was telling me how we can't walk in the grass because it's rude and hurts the grass' feelings. And that we can't pick flowers because it takes them away from their families and makes them sad."

Karen cooes, "That's the sweetest thing."

Foggy huffs fondly, "She wanted to pick flowers with you?"

He shrugs and ducks his head a little, "Kinda? She was talking about how to make flower crowns and bracelets."

"Is she going to make you a flower crown?" Karen asks, and Matt can sense her leaning towards him. The teasing in her voice has him guessing she's got her Mischievous look on.

"Maybe."

"That's so sweet."

"It's so 2014," Foggy adds with his own teasing.

Karen throws one of the throw pillows he's somehow accumulated at Foggy, "She's a baby, leave her alone."

Both he and Foggy laugh and Matt can't help but get his own dig in, "Like you would deny a flower crown from her."

"Damn right, I wouldn't," his best friend bites back. "I'm accepting all flower crowns, hair braiding, nail painting, and tea parties. I am going to be the best uncle she could ever dream of - wait, does she already have an uncle? Do I need to do research? I'll out Uncle anyone."

Matt shakes his head, "No, it's just the two of them. No other family. It seems like a sensitive topic, so I haven't.. Pushed. She hasn't either, but my background is a little more…public? I haven't told her about Maggie, yet."

The couch groans as Karen leans back into it, sipping again at her beer before humming, "Well, it will be easier to keep your late night activities under wrap. Less people to question things?"

"That's a way to put it," is the response from his other friend. Matt shakes his head at both their words.

"I told you I want to tell her, once it's safe. I need your help with that, too," Matt pushes himself up and starts to pace behind his couch, "With everything we've been through, all the things we've been working on as a team - and I know most of that is me with all my bullshit and issues." He stops his walking to rub at his jaw, "I know…I know I'm going to be bad at this. I know I'm going to fuck something up. I've done it to both of you countless times. And I can't give up on being the Devil, we've seen how it goes when I try to go either way, so I need to find the balance quick but I can't.." He trails off slightly as the emotions swell in his chest at his self sabotaging this and he has to inhale deeply to keep himself from getting too worked up. "I can't lose them. I can't."

"Oh, Matt," Karen whispers.

He's so caught up in his own emotions he doesn't hear Foggy get up and actually starts when he's clapped on the shoulder, "Matt, let me say this with my full heart, and I know Karen will one hundred percent agree, and I'm pre-facing this with I love you and you are my brother and best friend, and I think this is exactly what you need me to tell you. If you pull any of the bullshit you did with us with them or anything similar, I will personally drop you into the Hudson. After Karen is through with you."

It catches him off guard, but his best friend is right and it is exactly what he needs to hear.

"There would not be anything left to dispose of," Karen cheerily adds and Matt doesn't need super human hearing to know she's telling the truth.

He nods in understanding to both of them, "Thank you." He needs to properly thank them for so many things, but he doesn't know how and all he can do is repeat the words.

"So," Foggy starts again, squeezing Matt's shoulder before shaking him a few times. "When do I get to meet my newest niece?"

"Once we tell her the truth about who I am to her. I'm going over for dinner tomorrow, to try and be in more everyday things to get her used to it all." He wonders if his excitement about the dinner is showing through. He gets to visit where you and his daughter live and that always says so much about a person. He wants to be let into that bubble.

"Wait!" Karen gasps, turning more in her seat so she is facing towards the two of them, "If Foggy gets to be Uncle, does that mean I'm an Aunt?"

"Do you want to be?" He asks, because it is obviously a 'yes' in his mind.

Karen considers this, Foggy narrating, "She's debating on her head, doing the whole tilting it one way and then the next."

"Oh, hush, Fog! Of course, I want to be!"

This quickly dissolves into playful bickering.

"Aunt Karen has a good ring to it."

"Oh, like Uncle Foggy is much better?"

Matt grins and finds his way back to his seat and his beer. He grabs the bottle and takes a long sip, listening to two of the most important people in his life bask in the glow of their little family getting bigger.

Maybe, just maybe, he isn't as helpless and lost as he thinks he is.

Maybe it will all be okay.

He just needs to have faith.

taglist:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare @mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium @

two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend

#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #and then I met you

488 notes · View notes

dimepdf · 1 year

Note

Can you write more Dilf!Toji please? 😭 I really appreciate your writing 🫶🏽

★ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐘. + 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? synopsis. you come around and make Toji so tempted, no matter what broad he's bagging all he can think about is you: his fucking nanny .

─── ☆ notes. number one dilf toji defender here, i’m in my Anderson Paak phase as well as i’ve sadly (i know im disappointed too) fallen for a man to the point where this boy has invaded my DREAMS y’all…this is embarrassing and this fic is me coping with having an actual crush so i give you full permission to call me a simp over this .

─── ☆ length. 2.6k (23 mins) .

─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni, nanny au, dilf!toji, angsty start, fluff, minor character death, hints of depression, hookups, pining, black coded reader, you got brotha STARVING, megumi and tsumiki are toddlers in this, someone give toji a hug, vent-fic, hurt/comfort, age gap, height difference, it's always Gojo’ fault, masturbation, jealousy | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

Toji would say that after becoming a parent, he could read body language pretty well. Maybe it was just part of being a single parent and having to detect when your toddlers were sprouting nonsense just to stay up later knowing it was bedtime.

From the times he believed that his little Megumi was being the perfect angel and finally grew out of his tantrum phase.

Only to turn his back and realize that he had used craft scissors to chop a chunk out of Tsumiki’s hair and was playing nice to soften his punishment, to school beatdowns and playing dumb, Toji had decided he was just a master at decoding anyone’s bullshit.

Everyone except for his own that is.

Being a single parent came with its perks, Toji loved his two little demons, and it sort of helped that Tsumiki made the most of her mother's common sense.

But dealing with his ex-wife's abrupt death, being sprung into the life of lone fatherhood, and being a successful businessman were starting to take their toll on him.

His friends were not much help. Sure, Gojo did all he could to be seen as the cool uncle, but leaving his two hyper children with a man that refused to say no to anything that they asked was like signing his children up for their possible deaths.

Geto wasn’t much better, having his own marriage and kids. You would think that the father would grow to have a bit more compassion for the children's safety. Yet every time Tsumiki and Megumi visited their brass uncle, they would always come home with new scars sprouting about how they were practicing wrestling moves with their cousins for the last ice pop.

Waking up to something different, never being able to just fill in the gaps with a routine was starting to become a bit stressful.

Not to mention going to work and having to push himself to his limits, knowing that just because he was friends and business partners with Nanami didn't mean he'd be lenient with him.

All paired with the weight of some bold secretary that he had a one-night stand and never got the clue that every time he would brush her off for paperwork didn't mean he was singling her to cling onto him more. It was bad business hooking up with one of his employees Toji knows.

If anything, the woman had taken him at just the right opportunity when he was at the lowest moment of his life. Right after his wife's death, he had fallen behind on just about everything to the point where he would lean into any sense of comfort that reminded him of that faded memory he wanted to keep dear to his heart.

So there he was after hours with a woman's thigh over his shoulder moaning out his name as if it were a prayer, and he had realized that right after it was all a mistake, which was kind of a shitty thing to note as she was standing right in front of him pulling up her panties.

He just can't do it again, out of respect for her but also for himself. The last thing he wanted to do was entangle himself in another situation that would take more time away from his kids.

Not that he considered the woman to be pestering, but he wasn't a teenager anymore. The last thing he wanted to do was handle his stress by sticking his dick in the first woman he considered attractive, all because he had trouble bottling up all his emotions.

Toji's hatred for all the lingering eyes in the office—sure, Toji thought himself handsome—the proof was the number of relationships he had in his younger days.

There was something wrong with people finding him attractive and wanting something from him when he genuinely felt like his entire world would collapse on top of him if he stopped moving.

As if he stopped overworking himself that he would be like one of those sharks that had to keep swimming or else they would fucking die. It was ironic how stupidly afraid Toji was at the thought of leaving his children alone in the world with both of their parents gone.

It was fear, having that parental fear for something every waking morning worrying every second that something could happen to children all because he could notice one little thing or he hadn't paid enough attention.

Sure, he was being a hovering parent—call it what you want—but Toji would rather be that than a father who would spend his free time sleeping around with several different women. Never wanting to have to explain to his children that none of the women he slept with could compare to the relationship he had with their mother.

So he didn't. No more attachments. No more romantic anything, let alone bringing a woman home.

It was the secretary's fault. She was a beautiful woman with long hair and a cute, petite figure, and she allowed him to fold in any position that he wanted against his desk.

All that just makes Toji feel more guilty, or more worried, as if this choppy relationship that he had with this poor woman, whose name he would always forget yet who would practically scream out his, would just blow up in his face.

What if she wanted something more serious?

What if Nanami found out that he was banging one of the employees?

What if he got fired because he couldn't keep it in his pants?

What if he lost his main source of income and couldn't provide for his kids anymore?

All of those worries were just added stress, crowding his plate until he couldn't carry it anymore, and after a few years of bottling it all up until he couldn't anymore, he finally decided to reach out for help.

Little by little, of course, he would actually tell his friends how he felt when they asked, spend more time letting Megumi and Tsumiki be actual kids, letting them hang out with their friends, and worry just a bit less whenever they would visit their younger cousins at Geto’s place.

He had even accepted Gojo’s idea of hiring a babysitter, but of course, the blonde’s intentions for such an offer were dual-minded.

Thriving on about how he should hire some smoking hot lady, to have some eye candy around the house to fuel some busting fantasies to break his dry spell.

Toji was quick to dismiss that idea for a variety of reasons, one of which was that he had hired you. You were a clumsy young girl who just needed a side hustle to pay for some of your college classes, accepting his twenty-dollar an hour ad despite the fact that it was the lowest pay sandwiched between the obviously more wealthy families looking for someone to look after their kids so they didn't have to on the boogie nanny seeking website.

At first, the idea of leaving his children alone with you was a terrifying thought. The impression that you gave him during the interview was more than enough to fuel his worries after seeing you stumble out of your car and get your jacket in the car door, dense to the point where you had face-planted into his back during the house tour, too busy gawking at the many bathrooms to pay attention to where you were supposed to be walking.

Your genuinely bubbly personality around the children is what saved you from going broke. Sure, you were a little naive when it came to some of the things that you lied about on your resume, but the thing that Toji liked about you was that you just seemed to handle yourself so well despite not knowing at all what you were doing. If anything, he admired how you had managed to keep yourself alive despite running through life so differently than he would.

You were quick to gain his trust, in fact, quicker than anyone has ever in his entire life. He felt his feelings were mostly biased given that his kids had practically attached themselves to you throughout the months of being their nanny.

It was only natural for them to grow so close to you with how much Toji had to work, but what Toji hadn't expected was for you two to form some sort of friendship as well.

It started off pretty odd, with Toji coming home to find you have the kids tucked in for the night and spread out on his living room couch watching so many movies on his HBO Max account that he forgot he even had.

You were a pretty chatty person, and he had learned to notice how you could go from being so silent that he would forget you were even there to the point of talking about anything within your wide range of interests that Toji had never heard of.

In all honesty, Toji loved that about you—how you could introduce him to new things that he hadn't gotten around to understanding all because he was too busy being a workaholic.

His new favorite part about coming home was just to talk to you, or at least listen to your rant about some silly little show, or make him listen to one of the new songs you had become obsessed with.

And before he had known it, Toji actually felt warmth in his household again, all because of some kind-hearted nanny who had managed to break down all of his walls.

It was almost strange how someone so opposite to him, someone so minor, could have managed to make his life change for the better.

And then it got a little bit more strange.

Life had been going so well for him that sometimes those days would just blend together. There would be times at work when he had wished for his entire office building to crumble to dust just so he could get out of work early for the day, but even after those shifts, he would come home to you, and suddenly that swallowing dark hole in his chest would actually start to feel whole again.

He had just gotten so used to using you as his personal happiness dispenser that when you managed to wiggle into his life more and more, he even introduced you to his main group of friends. His mood was ruined when he saw Gojo's eyes practically glow at the sight of you during Tsumiki's birthday party.

Toji hadn't understood why it had bothered him so much, seeing his best friend become too chummy with you.

If anything, knowing Gojo’s history of charming the pants off of any attractive woman, he could have prepared him enough to know that you too would soon enough fall victim to at least one of his friends, but there was just something so uncomfortable about hearing Gojo drown you in compliments.

It was as if something had clicked, and suddenly you weren't just the full-time nanny anymore, but the beautiful young woman that he had suddenly noticed was so pretty, and that alone made Toji feel like such a fucking creep.

Maybe it was because you were closer to his children's age than his or the fact that every time you would change your hair every other month, he would imagine his hands tangled in your braids, how he would think about holding the locs away from your face to get a better view of you between his legs.

It was all so fucked, your now normal image of him all screwed over all because of Gojo and his ability to turn anything sexual. Toji had felt just a little better pinning the blame on someone else, thinking that maybe it would ease his guilt for getting so hard thinking about you late at night.

You would be just downstairs asleep in the living while he laid down on the other side of the house in the comfort of his four walls, pressing his face into his pillows with an erection hard enough that he was convinced it was harder than bricks.

For the first time in a while, it wasn't anything work-related taking up all of his attention, but instead the fucking nanny he hired. The pretty nanny who was in college, who was closer to his children's age than his, the nanny with the glossed lips that he had to hold back from wanting to taste which flavor it was she was wearing now.

His lovely nanny, whom he wished to strip naked piece by piece to pay close attention to every dip and curve in her figure. He wanted you naked as the day you were born, spread across his mattress, lips parting only to say his name and his name only.

It was a dangerous thought, one that often led to Toji revealing himself with a rabbit hole of thoughts about you in any situation his mind could imagine.

It was even more crude—wrapping his hand around his dick and thrusting his hips up into his hand, thinking about the same woman who was just a staircase away, masturbating as if he were a teenage boy and not a man with two kids asleep in just the room across the hall.

He blamed everything on Gojo, it was all his fault that you have suddenly seemed so fucking unforgettable. How could you suddenly be all he could think about with all his sanity thrown out the window for some nanny?

His pretty nanny.

You were so beautiful, with full lips, a dark complexion, and brown eyes that managed to look so appealing despite being so boring. Your expressions make you so easy to read.

The way your brows would pull together whenever you were confused, how the ends of your lips would quirk with every joke, how your personality managed to be so welcoming.

You stood tall, your head just below his shoulder, average height but so short in comparison to his towering figure.

How bad Toji just wanted to scoop you up into his arms and bury his face into your neck, the same neck where he wanted to leave as many marks as he possibly could against your brown skin.

The thought doesn't help Toji’s aching dick at all. How bad he wants to suck little marks into your soft flesh, leaving dark little marks wherever he can against your body.

It was a possessive thought, having you covered in his teeth marks and love bites, waiting for the next guy to dare to even make a move on you.

He wonders how soft your thighs feel and how nice they would feel wrapped around his waist. He lets his hand do the majority of the work, his fingers rough around his length, causing a groan from the friction.

Toji’s fantasies about you play out quite beautifully in his mind, so perfectly, in fact, that he struggles to keep himself silent.

Which was a new thing for him given that Toji wasn’t usually very vocal during sex, not even the best blowjob that he had ever gotten would he give anything but a few grunts yet there he was fisting into his fist to keep himself from whimpering out so pathetically.

Humping his hand to the point where he had to cover his own mouth, he finished all over himself, strings of cum shooting all over his chest to his shirt. He was too caught up in his own bliss to care about the sad mess he created.

Toji thought you were beautiful. He thought you were so perfect to the point where even the simple thought of you made him so happy.

You, his nanny, were the realization that settled in his mind after his high.

🔖 @tojidilfs @s-witch-bitch @chloee0x0 @kawatabae @haitaniwhor3 @pluzo @hey-gurls69 @momoewn @kogoshidied @disaster-rose @hoohoohope @pidwidge @jadeisthirsting @zuuki @watyousayin @tojishugetiddies @rumi-rants @justanotherkpopstanlol @awkwardaardvarkforever @lexiinanime @melty-kisses @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @kiyomeichann @wenumsmol @unholybabyface @ficti0nalslxt @namidaass @princesstiti14 @watyousayin @crissteetee @ziggy-09 @anotherlovelyruin

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#[ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ★ — t.wrks. ]#toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut

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averageanonymous · 1 month

Text

Summary: Crowley reflects on all the things he can not say.

TW: very brief (less than a sentence) mention of abuse.

☆•☆•☆•☆•☆

Sitting alone in his flat, surrounded by his plants, Crowley thinks that he could drown beneath the weight of all the things he doesn't say.

He tries not to dwell on it.

After all, what good does it do?

But sometimes, in the dark and the quiet, he finds himself reflecting, suffocated by solitude, caught in the realization that his entire existence is built upon an amalgamation of half-truths tangled in an increasingly complex web of lies. Their weight rests heavy on his shoulders, every false word leaving a bitter taste on his tongue.

Meanwhile, every true thing he has ever thought or felt is kept on a leash, chained to his heart and left to starve.

It's exhausting.

The way he pretends he gives a single shit about Hell, or Satan - he doesn't. He must play his role, though, and play it well, crafting whatever narrative is required to ensure he will never be required to take up a position back in the dark, stinking Pit. So he does, taking credit for so much of the awfulness that humans inflict upon themselves. Immersing himself in their cruelty, their wickedness, reporting on it as though it were his own cruelty made manifest, and all the while wondering, questioning in silence, how God could have created something with the capacity for such evil.

But he must never speak his loathing for the devil, for damnation, for Heaven and Hell and the Plan, the Great bloody Plan, and never admit the way the suffering of the world and all the people in it hurts him.

And it does hurt.

It hurts every time Heaven turns a blind eye to a hungry child, refuses the prayers of a beaten woman, denies the pleas of a prodigal son.

It shouldn't though. Not for him.

He's a demon, after all, stripped of Grace, damned by God Herself. He had Fallen, burned alive in boiling sulfur, been changed into this cursed shadow of himself. Hadn't that been punishment enough?

It wasn't, apparently. More penance must be owed because he, an immortal being, must watch these humans in their misery, and it hurts. What's worse is that Crowley does not understand Why.

He thinks he will never understand, and isn't sure he wants to.

And even if he could give voice to this pain, this confusion, who would hear him? God's ways are Ineffable, and all the while, Satan laughs. There is no one, no one, who sees, who cares, not the way he is compelled to see and to care.

No one, except perhaps...

Aziraphale.

The sense of drowning begins to become unbearable, sinking deeper, reaching farther. All of the pain of hiding from Hell, of cursing Heaven, of seeing the beauty of humanity dragged through the mud again and again and again by its own fallibility, it is all amplified by the agony of the lie that consumes him most of all: the facade he crafts each and every day as he forces himself to act as though he - a demon - is not entirely devoted, black heart and broken soul, to an angel.

He loves him.

A plain, simple truth.

And it is a torture to pretend as though he doesn't; as though he hasn't loved that angel for over six thousand years. To pretend that the angel is not beautiful, and precious to him beyond imagining. To pretend he isn't a balm against Crowley's brokenness, soothing his pain, easing his confusion, bringing him some semblance of peace.

But in loving him, the web of lies only ties itself tighter, and the loneliness only grows. Crowley knows, he knows, he must not reveal this truth, for both their sakes. And so he forces himself to let the years pass, not seek the angel out too often, not contact him needlessly, not ask him to go to dinner, get a drink, go for a walk, do anything, anything at all, so long as they do it together.

Oh, the way his entire being vibrates with the desire to be near him, though, near him always, his every cell and atom yearning towards him like a light-starved flower towards the sun.

The way he has to physically restrain himself from touching him when they are together: his hair, his face, a brush of fingers or legs or lips.

The way he has to hide his eyes for fear they'll give away the truth in his soul, that he would do anything, give anything, be anything, for him.

The way he cherishes every smile, every laugh, every glance, collecting them like flowers, pressed between the pages of his memories.

The way he dreams of an impossible future where they are together.

Together.

Just the two of them.

Away from all this; from Heaven, from Hell, from God and the devil, from humanity and all its suffering.

He sits in his flat, head in his hands, his plants leaning toward him as though they can sense his loneliness, as though they could help.

In the quiet and the dark, he loves, and he loathes, choking upon his silence, crushed beneath millennia upon millennia of dammed emotions, a reservoir held within the fragile walls of his heart, the pressure building, demanding release, begging for relief, but he will find no catharsis and he knows this.

He knows it

and he drowns,

and drowns,

and drowns.

☆•☆•☆•☆•☆

Thanks for reading 🖤🤍

I imagine this "scene" would happen sometime in the years prior to the Armageddon that wasn't. And yeah, it's literally the opposite of "Because, underneath it all, Crowley was an optimist." But know what? I'm in my feels today, so Crowley gets to be too, and that's that.

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale x crowley #aziracrow #fanfic #good omens fanfiction #good omens angst #angst #introspective #ineffable husbands #my words

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stranger-marauders · 9 months

Text

i could never let you go

chapter five: one of us mamma mia! au

chapter summary: After Lena's bachelorette party, you face a sobering realization. Lena becomes overwhelmed by the three of her fathers.

chapter warnings: smut, language, general angst, mother-daughter argument, use of y/n

word count: 3.5k

series masterlist | masterlist

You couldn’t begin to explain it, but you were back in his arms again.

At first, you couldn’t remember where you were. It only took you a second to realize you were in your bed, late at night after one of your shows.

The bedroom floor was an absolute mess. After your show that night, Steve had been trying his best to keep his hands off of you, mostly because he thought that he might burst just at the sensation of your skin. The second you’d gotten inside the old farmhouse, Steve had carried you right upstairs to bed, not even stopping to take his shoes off.

All of your clothes made a straight line for the bed where Steve currently had you underneath him. One hand was gripping your waist, the other interlaced with your fingers as he worked his way inside of you. The way that you squeezed at the sensation of him pushing in and pulling out of your body only made him go more insane. The moans and whimpers that you were giving him made him thrust harder, your body starting to jiggle simply from the force of it all.

“You were so pretty up there tonight, baby,” he said softly, his voice strained. “I can’t believe I get to have you all to myself.”

You didn’t think you’d ever get used to how big he was. Even if he tried his best to be gentle with you, he couldn’t help it. Chest to chest, hand in hand, an arm of yours around his shoulders—you weren’t sure if becoming closer to him was an option. You didn’t even mind the thin layer of sweat that almost seemed to make both of your bodies stick together.

Out of everything, you always thought the feeling of his hand in yours made all of him even more overwhelming. There was something about him holding your hand while he fucked you that made everything even more intimate. It was like he had to have you in every single way possible—in a way, it seemed like his life depended on it.

“God, Steve,” you said, gasping at the sensation.

“I know, baby, I know.”

You moaned, your hand snaking its way to the base of his neck and touching his little baby hairs, pulling at them slightly. You loved the way his hair shagged, how he was so sensitive to the touch of it. As expected, he groaned, pushing even deeper into you. Your name was like a prayer on his lips, whimpering it over and over again almost like you were the only thing he believed in anymore.

Steve was under the impression that you had been made for each other. Everything about you completed him in a way that no one else ever had before.

You could hardly focus now. His free hand was roaming every bare inch of your skin now, and his lips were moving up and down your neck and chest, your tits swelling at the sensation.

He looked down at you, his brown eyes full of love and yet lust all at the same time. “You okay? Do I need to stop?”

You could hardly get words out it felt so good—you didn’t want it to end. “Keep going.”

When his hand returned to your hip, he thought you might have bruises tomorrow morning from how tight he was currently holding onto you. It was like he feared he’d never get to hold you again, that or you’d simply disappear if he let you go. You never minded, even if it meant that you had to work around the marks he left you for your gigs at the bar—that just meant more of you could just be for him to see.

You felt pleasure wash over you in waves, making it where you could hardly keep your eyes open. He always became so intoxicating that you finally couldn’t keep your eyes open. Tonight, for whatever reason, you couldn’t help it, even more so than usual. The friction of your clit and nipples against his hair and skin certainly were a contributing factor.

There hadn’t been a night that the sex wasn’t good, but it hadn’t ever been like this. In fact, you’d never experienced anything like this in your entire life, and part of you was scared you’d never feel something like this with anyone ever again.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, nearly panting. His lips were so close to your ear now, burying his face into your neck. It was like he knew you were close. His hand against your waist was slick, just like the both of your bodies were. “Just let go, baby.”

With that, you cried out, gasping and digging your nails into his back and hand. As he whispered encouragements into your ear, you felt lightheaded, dizzy even. The journey to the edge was quick, and the heat in your lower abdomen ignited a fire that caused you to scream.

“That’s it, baby, that’s it.”

Steve gripped onto your hip for dear life, burying his face tightly into your neck to muffle his own cries. You could feel every pulse of him and his cock inside of you, covering your insides with his—

You jolted awake quickly whenever you heard a familiar scream from outside.

Lena.

Without hesitation, you ran downstairs to the courtyard to find her, even though the sky was still dark blue. The sun hadn’t even had a chance to come up yet. Whenever you saw her, you thought it was odd that she looked so confused, standing in the courtyard still in her pajamas.

She’d been sleepwalking again.

You knew your daughter better than anyone else: whenever she sleptwalk, something was taxing her mind. Of course, that didn’t surprise you. This wedding had been enough to even stress you out, not to mention the last twenty-four hours. You hadn’t ever imagined you would see Eddie, Jonathan, or Steve again, and they’d all shown up at the same time. What were you supposed to think about that?

Of course, that immediately made you think of the dream that you’d just had, which almost made you throw up.

You had to worry about Lena first.

“Lena, what’s going on?” you asked, holding her by the arms. “It’s six o’clock in the morning. What are you doing?”

“I… I don’t know,” she said, sounding almost as confused as she looked.

“Well, wait right here.”

“I’m all right, Mom.”

“No, you’re not either,” you said, touching her face. No fever, thank God. “You’re sleepwalking again.”

“Again?” Lena asked. “When do I ever sleepwalk?”

You, of course, had answers prepared. “Hm, let’s think: the night you couldn’t figure out your algebra homework, the night you went down with the flu—”

“Knock it off,” Lena said. “I’m not a baby.”

“Well, I know that, Lena, but you’re still my daughter. I know when something’s wrong with you.”

Whenever she didn’t saw anything, you sighed. You couldn’t tell what was taxing her mind, but you could only correlate one event going on currently. With that in mind, you started to rub her back and you continued to speak.

“What do we have to do? It’s not too late, if it’s about the wedding. We can call it off right now—”

“Wait, what?” Lena asked, even more confused by your statement. “No, that’s not what this is about, okay!”

“I’m not saying it is—”

“Yes, you are!” Lena shouted. “It’s not a secret you think I’m stupid to get married. You’ve made that clear multiple times without saying it. It’s just a label and—”

“I’ve never pretended that I understand, Lena—”

“No! Of course you don’t!” she said, beginning to get even angrier. “You did it just fine without a man, didn’t you? You didn’t do the marriage and babies thing. You just did the baby. Well, good for you, okay! Not everyone’s like you!”

You didn’t quite understand what she was saying. While, yes, you had never gotten married, and never had a true relationship since she was born, you certainly didn’t think your daughter was stupid for marrying someone she loved. You simply thought she was too young to settle down already.

“I don’t see why you’re taking this out on me—”

“I’m gonna do it right, Mom. I love Leo, and I want to be with him, and I’m not gonna let my kids grow up and not know who their Dad is, because it’s bullshit! It’s absolutely terrible and you have no idea what it’s like!”

“Lena, wait—”

Before you could reason with her, however, she stomped off, leaving to go back inside. You sighed, not knowing what to think.

It was wrong of you to assume that it was about the wedding. You knew that. But what else could this have been about? Was she hiding something from you? The more you thought about it, you didn’t think Lena was quite capable of that: she’d told you absolutely everything since she’d gained the ability to talk.

You didn’t think it was fair for her to tell you what it was like to not have a father in your life. Your own mother had never truly told you who your own father was, either. All you knew about him was that he was a former lover of your mother’s, someone from a fling that would have no desire to have ever met you. With that, you pushed it behind you. You didn’t need a father, nor had you truly needed a mother.

It was the first time that you’d ever thought that maybe it hadn’t been fair to raise Lena in that same mindset.

Before you could go inside to apologize to her, you found Leo, Eric, and Pepper with a guitar and a corresponding amplifier, one that’s sound was all too familiar to you.

“All right! Eric! What the hell are you doing with that thing!” you shouted, quickly unplugging the amplifier so as to not wake up any of the guests in the villa.

“We found it in the basement. Just what we need for a wedding.”

“Is this yours? It’s nice!”

“No, it’s…” You didn’t want to think about whose guitar it was. “It doesn’t matter. What did you three even do last night? You look terrible!”

You were completely right about that. The three boys, unsurprisingly, had looked as if they had partied much too hard last night. You weren’t entirely sure that they had taken showers or had even slept since they’d come back from the lake, mostly because they still smelled horrendous. That also could’ve been the booze, though, you thought. Probably a bit of both? It didn’t matter. What did matter, however, was that it was fixed before Lena saw them.

“Go take showers. Now.”

Leo went inside sheepishly, almost like an eight-year-old that had just been scolded by his mother; you watched as Pepper followed closely behind him.

“And where do you think you’re going?” you asked him.

“To scrub the groom’s back!” he said drunkenly.

“Oh, no, you’re not.” You cleared your throat, ready to give the boys instructions. “I want the champagne on ice, the juice in the punch bowls, and I want you to lay out the tablecloths, cutlery, and the best glasses, and you better wash and polish them first or else.”

“Yeah! And don’t just blow at them and rub them on your pants!” Eric said in jest.

“Eric!” you shouted, almost as if you were scolding him. “Get your boat out!”

“What? Hey!”

“ERIC!” “Why?”

“Because my guests want to dive down to the old wreck to look for more necklaces.”

“Aw, come on!” Eric said. “We planted the ones that Leo found last night.”

“Then I suggest you plant more of them,” you replied. “It’s a genius distraction tool you’ve created. It’ll keep guests happy until the wedding starts. So, please, for Christ’s sake, just do it!”

Of course, the boys listened to you in order to not lose their jobs or their heads, only leaving you alone in the courtyard. You sighed as you finally sat down.

While you never got to actually sit down in your courtyard, you did think it was a lovely sight. You liked all of the flowers that were sitting within it, the reds and purples and pinks that made the place feel much more alive. You had always taken pride in your courtyard, mostly because Lena had always loved it so much.

You buried your head in your hands. All of this was a disaster and it was your fault. Your daughter was furious with you because you’d jumped to conclusions about her relationship, the three men that could have possibly been the father of that very daughter were all staying in your villa, and on top of that, you were confused about all of it.

Seeing Steve again last night had made you feel a lot of things, especially whenever you’d had a couple of shots as liquid courage before you’d gone on with Nancy and Robin. That was the only way you could explain the dream you’d had that night. It was all because you’d had way too much to drink.

It hadn’t been a dream, exactly. No, it was actually a memory. As much as you would have liked to forget all of that time you’d spent with him, after twenty-one years, you still had never been able to forget a single night with him. That’s what made seeing him again hurt even more.

You didn’t know whether to be angry with him or yourself. While he was completely at fault for making you fall in love with him whenever he was getting married, you had been stupid for letting him absorb your every thought and being for all that time, even now. You’d had more than enough time to get over him, so why hadn’t you? That wasn’t something you could blame on him and you knew it.

Whenever he stopped into the courtyard with a sketchpad and glasses, though, your heart fluttered. You hated how handsome he still was, how even more attractive he was now that he was older. The glasses were new, and so was the sketchpad. You didn’t ever really think that he would step up to lead his father’s contracting company, but here he was, planning projects in your courtyard.

Without speaking to him, you quickly tried to leave. You weren’t in the mental state to try and have a civil conversation with him. Of course, he stood in front of you, trying his best to stop you as he called your name.

“Wait, hold on!” he said, keeping a hand out in surrender. “Where’re you goin’? I just got here.”

“Oh, it’s, uh… it’s for the wedding. Small thing.”

“Look, about this wedding, I—”

Steve cut himself off whenever he realized how beautiful the courtyard was. As much as he would’ve liked to, he hadn’t truly had time to explore the grounds of the villa. The courtyard, for example, was something he hadn’t gotten to see yet. He was almost overwhelmed with the apparent beauty of your villa, the very same one that you’d dreamed up together. If he hadn’t been as stupid as he was, maybe he could have been as lucky as to run the place with you.

“This place really is beautiful.”

“Yeah.” You sighed softly. “It’s too bad it doesn’t frighten off unwanted visitors.”

“You don’t need a garden to do that.”

“I wouldn’t. My bite is worse than my bark.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I remember.” Steve chuckled. “I’ve still got the scars. I’ll show you.”

For a moment, you almost felt yourself slip back into that banter you two used to share. It was like nothing had ever happened between the two of you. You, however, quickly remembered why you weren’t allowed to love him, and you shouldn’t have been allowed to in the first place: Steve Harrington was a married man.

“What do you want, Steve?”

“Look.” He opened his sketchpad, showing you a drawing he’d made of your inn but with some modifications. “I have an idea for an extension—”

“I don’t want your goddamn extension!” you said, annoyed. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re living my dream!” Steve replied, not truly answering your question. “Don’t you remember it? It’s everything I told you about. The island, the villa… This was my dream. Our dream, if I remember correctly.”

“Yeah?” you asked bitterly. “Well, this is my life. Hard work and a crippling mortgage. I don’t think that’s the dream you quite remember it to be.”

“At least let me take a look at that roof for you. It’s not going to last you through the winter, and we both know the winter here’s brutal. Just… Just let me check it for you, okay?”

“I will look at my own roof, thank you.”

“Okay, fine! Jesus, be a fucking martyr if you want to.”

You sighed, not saying anything. For whatever reason, you still hadn’t walked away from him nor the courtyard. You knew you had more than enough things to do around the island before you actually got ready for the wedding, but something was holding you back from getting on with that very work. You couldn’t explain it, but you couldn’t leave. Not yet.

“You know, we had a good run,” he said softly. “A really good run if you ask me. I think about that summer all the time.”

Even if you hated to admit it, you thought about it, too. While it didn’t help that Steve might have been the actual father of your child, that was the last time you’d truly felt loved unconditionally. Steve had done that, not anyone else. Even if you wanted to hate him, you couldn’t. You knew that. The dream you’d had last night and seemingly the rest you had almost every night since he’d left told you that much. You simply hated to even admit it, especially now that he was sitting right in front of you.

“Yeah. Yeah, we did,” you replied. “Do you ever… think about how it could’ve gone differently?”

Steve chuckled. “All the time. I should’ve never done that to you. If I knew what I know now, would’ve done things a lot differently than I did. Jesus, I was such a stupid kid. Sometimes, I feel like I still am a kid, you know? Just constantly making stupid decisions.”

You didn’t know what to say. As much as you thought about that summer and the outcome of it, you hadn’t really thought about if he harbored any regret over the situation. In a way, it made your opinion of him go up a tad—you hadn’t ever given the thought that he would change everything that happened. The thought only confused you more, and that was something you didn’t want.

“But we’re not kids anymore. I have a kid now, and she’s… she’s what matters to me.”

“I have kids, too, you know,” Steve said softly, almost like he was trying to diffuse the tension between the two of you so you wouldn’t leave. “I know it’s gotta be hard for you, you know, doing it on your own.”

“Don’t patronize me,” you said sharply in response. “I like doing it on my own. Every morning I wake up and I thank every god above I don’t have some middle-aged menopausal man to bother me. I’m single, I’m free, and it’s great! I’m happy, okay?”

Steve, however, didn’t seem convinced.

“I’m happy. More than that, actually. I don’t need you telling me what’s hard for me and what’s not.”

“Y/N, please, just stop and listen to me for just a minute, okay?” he asked. “I’m not trying to piss you off. That’s… That’s the opposite of what I want, okay?”

With the interactions that the two of you had shared in the past twenty-four hours, you didn’t quite know what to think of that statement. If he didn’t want to piss you off, why had he let you be his mistress unknowingly until just a few days before he got married, only to not see him for twenty-one years? If that was what he wanted, he wouldn’t have made you fall in love with him in the first place.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me about Lena?”

His statement took you by surprise, quickly making you become defensive. “She is absolutely none of your business—”

“And what’s this Leo guy like? Is he good enough for her?”

“And that is none of your business, either,” you said, exasperated. “You don’t get to just show up and start asking questions.”

“Okay, wait, It’s not like that—”

“You need to mind your own business, okay, Steve?” you said sharply. “I’m serious. You stay out of this.”

Steve hesitated, almost like he was thinking through his options. He decided, however, that it wasn’t worth pissing you off further. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Got it.”

“Great.”

Without another question, Steve let you leave the courtyard and let you get back to planning the wedding festivities.

next chapter

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington series #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington smut #mamma mia! au

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carpehistoryandthepens · 9 months

Text

Legacy (what is a legacy?) Part 5

It’s planting seeds in a garden you never get to see I wrote some notes at the beginning of a song someone will sing for me

Hamilton, the world was wide enough. LMM.

one, two, three, four

Summary: Mike is 13. Born May 2009. Sid didn’t know he had a son. All Mike had was hope and a prayer for his and his half-sister’s safety.

(Sid is a dad of a teen he didn’t know about AU) Sidgeno.

Warnings: (for the total story) post-child abuse (all off-screen but it affects things and is spoken about often), learning how to parent, panic attacks, anxiety, based on last season, OCs?, realization about sexuality. Post breakups. Desperate lack of in-depth research for CPS in both PA/CA, melodrama?, kidfic, angst, slowburn, playing fast and loose with the law for drama/storytelling purposes.

Zhenya exchanged a quick look with Tanger over the top of Sid's head as they helped Sid into the chair. Both were thinking the same things: This kid was Sid's, and Sid had no idea this kid existed.

And more importantly, this kid was so fucking scared.

Tanger quirked an eyebrow up in question, and Zhenya shook his head. He didn't know why the kid was so terrified, either. But then again, he had never met his father for the first time after thirteen years - that sounded terrifying on its own.

The kid started talking when Sid looked less like he would keel over and get some color into his face. His name is Michael. He's 13. Born just before their first cup win in 2009. His birthday is May 30. His sister is three. Her name is Marisol. They are half-siblings. They are from Anaheim, California. He had a faint Spanish accent. There, but not prominent, like Nikita's accent when he spoke English. The kid spoke two languages.

Zhenya thought about what Michael was saying. Thirteen years… or really. Fourteen years, given how long a pregnancy lasts. It might have been before Sid and Kathy got serious, but only just before.

Sid and Kathy had refused to put a name on their relationship for years and were always going back and forth, whether they were on or off. It had been worse than him and Oksana, to be honest. But so much funnier. The team had spent many roadies chirping Sid about it. Sid had turned the same pink he always did.

It was in December of 2008 that Kathy finally came to a holiday skate after a fraught on again off again summer, and together they announced they were officially dating. Of course, that year, they won the cup, and until the start of last season, Sid and Kathy had been the "it" couple when it came to the Pens. But this kid. He was conceived just before all of that.

By Sid's sharp intake of breath, he was doing the same math. "You're…. from where?" Sid croaked out.

"Anaheim," Michael muttered, eyes glued on the floor. "In Orange County, California."

When Sid only nodded and said nothing else, still staring at Michael, the kid continued, voice quiet. "Mama always said she had no idea who my dad was. Just that he was kind and had a smile that made his eyes crinkle." The kid - and oh god, he was only a kid, wasn't he? - paused momentarily, glancing at Sidney before looking down at his feet again. "She thought... I sounded like him when I laughed."

Zhenya got a flash of 21-year-old Sid and that bright, broad grin he got when he was happy and laughing. Zhenya hadn't thought about how much work he would do to keep that smile going for years. After that cup win and before the concussions, Sid just smiled more.

"We watched a Ducks game on TV a few years ago, just before COVID, when I was 10. And she said you looked like my bio dad." Michael said in a rush to fill up the silence in the room. "She also said she thought his name started with an S. Something short."

That got a stifled snort from Tanger. Geno and Jen glared at Tanger because his laugh caused the kid to shrink down in the trainer's room single chair. His sister watched as everyone talked, clinging close. She hadn't said a word, and Zhenya was a little worried she didn't know how to talk - dispute being three.

"But before you guys could come out to play again, the pandemic happened and… yeah." Michael trailed off, watching the group of adults wearily.

Sid kept staring at the kid, apparently unable to do anything else. Sid opened his mouth several times, trying to form some form of speech. It was sporadic that Sid wasn't able to talk. His many years in front of the press ensured he always had something to say, even if it was just empty bullshit.

"What makes you think Sid is Papa?" Zhenya asked when it became clear that Sid wanted to ask something but couldn't. There had to be more of a reason than 'his mom thought Sid looked like his dad.' Even the most hopeful kid wouldn't just run away, travel across the country, and throw himself and his sister on a whim or a hope. Michael had to have another reason.

"I have a picture," Michael said, rushed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny iPhone. The phone was far from the newest version; it looked like a used phone even before the kid had gotten his hands on it. Zhenya hadn't seen a model that old in years.

Jen leaned over Michael's shoulder to watch as he found whatever he sought. Michael opened the phone to the photos app and quickly scrolled past some pictures that made Jen's face cloud over with anger and concern as she leaned over his shoulder.

"Can I ask about those photos?" Jen asked as evenly as Zhenya had ever heard her. Including, of course, that time when he had a Twitter mishap that had Anya laughing at him for months.

Michael froze. He didn't move for a heartbeat at all, and Zhenya was worried he would also shut down. Then Michael took a deep breath and slowly nodded. "Let me find this picture first." He didn't move much; he just resumed flipping through pictures.

Jen stepped back and took a deep breath. "That's fine. When you're ready." She said eventually. Then she glanced at the care worker, saying something with her expression alone that Zhenya couldn't read. It was a little too complicated.

It's a boundary, Zhenya realized, as Michael's back relaxed slightly at Jen's acceptance of his words. The kid was drawing a boundary. How much he trusted everyone in this room depended on how they reacted to his attempt.

The care worker looked like she approved of Jen's reaction. But then again, from where she was leaning on the wall, she could also see what was on the phone over the kid's shoulder. She had also gone red with anger when he was scrolling.

Whatever the kid was scrolling past had to be bad. Tanger and Zhenya exchanged another look over Sid's head. Zhenya was glad that the core knew each other so well. A kid learning to draw boundaries like a scared and burnt rookie? That wasn't a good sign at all.

Sid didn't seem to notice the look exchanged over his head, too focused on the kid before him. He did seem to register the boundary drawn, but Zhenya wasn't sure - Sid could be observant.

The sister, Marisol, Zhenya did his best to remember, squirmed from under his jacket, and pulled herself up to see his phone. He had a feeling that he would know these kids very well.

"Mama!" she said with a smile when Michael stopped swiping. Zhenya felt some of the worries leave his gut. She could speak; her voice was even more accented than Michael's.

Michal stared at the phone for one long moment before flipping it around to show Sid.

Jen and the Care Worker had both gone from angry to surprised. Jen recovered first, pulled out her phone, and typed some things into it. Then, she showed the care worker, who looked between Michael and Sid, the phone in Michael's hand and nodded.

Zhenya turned his attention back to the phone in Michael's hand.

The image on the screen was a scanned photo of a Polaroid. In the Polaroid, Sid leaned against a bar table, talking to a dark-haired woman. He gestured with his hands, a smile and a minor flush on his face. In front of them was a glass with a dark drink in it. Zhenya assumed it was rum. He was dressed in a tight t-shirt, tight pants, and a ball cap that hid his face slightly.

Sid looked happy. He also looked like he was on the prowl. Zhenya remembered that look fondly. When Zhenya had a passing crush on Sid (and most of the team had one at some point or another), Zhenya loved that look on Sid.

The dark-haired woman sitting across from Sid smiled back, just as entertained as Sid was. She was holding a beer and taking in whatever Sid said with interest. She was dressed up, looking very much like she wanted a good time. She looked faintly like both children in front of Zhenya. Clearly, their mother.

"Mama said her friend at the time was always bringing a Polaroid camera around, and this was the only picture she had of my bio dad." The kid said, his hands trembling slightly around the phone.

Sid hadn't taken his eyes off the phone. Instead, he reached out to touch the screen, then jerked his hands back before contacting the phone. "Can I see?" he asked instead.

Michael nodded slowly, still nervous. "You can't delete it." He blurted out when Sid took the phone from the kid's shaking hands. "It's pass locked."

Sid blinked at the kid; clearly, he didn't even think about that option. "I wasn't going to." he said, then took a deep breath, "But thank you for protecting it."

Pass-locking a photo was something Zhenya had seen many teammates do to prevent embarrassing images from being erased. However, this was a little more important.

"Are all of the photos pass-locked?" Jen asked gently.

"Yes," Michael said, looking around. Then, he met the gaze of Charlie, the equipment guy, "He showed me how."

Zhenya took in Charlie and Anthony for the first time since they entered the room and their upset but determined faces. He had nearly forgotten they were there. Both men looked grim, flanking the doorway. Zhenya realized they had already seen the other pictures on the kid's phone. They had been the ones to pull in Jen and the care worker.

"Good," Jen said approvingly to Michael.

Michael relaxed a tiny bit at the praise.

Tanger leaned over to look at the phone with Sid. "That looks just like you." He told Sid. "Stupid with that haircut." He chirped as if by rote.

"It is me," Sid laughed, sounding far away, responding out of habit. "I remember that bar." He made a complicated expression that Zhenya chose to mean that Sid remembered her too. Finally, Sid turned his attention back to Michael. "When did you realize that was me?"

"I hoped, after, well, Covid. But….” Michael trailed off, looking away. "I played hockey for a long time. And before… Before my parents died, I was on one of the traveling teams, the Anaheim Eagles. One of my coaches worked at a camp you were at. He had photos. You looked the same."

Sid reached out with a hand before returning it to his side, unsure if his reassurance would be wanted.

Michael took a deep, shaky breath, some of the composure that got him to Pittsburgh from Anaheim unraveling. "Mama only said you looked like him. She didn't know. I don't know. But… after… they hit Marisol, we had to leave. I took Marisol with me, packed my largest bag, and left. I had to." He was nearly crying, eyes liquid and red-rimmed. "They could hit me. I'm a hockey player. I'm tough. We play through pain." He said desperately, looking around at the players, nearly desperate for them to believe him.

"Of course," Zhenya said, reassuring the kid. "Hockey players strong."

Sid nodded firmly to back Zhenya up. Tanger made a noise of pain.

This wasn't something a kid should have dealt with. Of course, Zhenya hated it, but that was in the past, and the best they could do was help the kid.

Michael looked so relieved at being believed. "But Marisol is so small. So we had to go." Michael said as if he was still explaining himself.

"Protect family," Sid said, sounding a little distant as he slid the photos over to see the rest of the files. They were all pass-locked, too; a person could see them but couldn't delete them.

The slide show played was one of the hardest Zhenya had ever seen. The photos showed Michael and the little girl's bruises and marks on their limbs. They were clearly taken in a train station or bus stop bathroom.

Sid went further and further back. The photos weren't recent; some dated nearly six months ago. There wasn't anyone else in the pictures other than the kids. It was mainly of Michael; the few photos of Marisol were only at the start of the horrifying slide show.

Sid refocused back on Michael as he approached the photo scroll's end. "Protecting your family is a good thing."

Michael sat back in his chair, and Marisol hugged him. "We had to go. There was nowhere else to go." He said simply.

Zhenya believed him.

"What happened to your parents?" the care worker asked, voice kind. It was firm and practiced kindness. Zhenya had heard that tone before in parents who were controlling their emotions when something happened, and it wasn't (probably) the kid's fault.

Michael let a few tears fall then, despite doing his best to keep his voice even, "Car accident, over half a year ago. We're living with our aunt and her husband now." His voice was reedy and thin. Marisol flinched and tucked into her brother's side at the mention of their relatives.

He was sacred. So was she. None of the adults in the room doubted their fear.

"You did well. In getting her out. Gotta protect, eh?" Sid said. He met Michael's gaze evenly as he spoke, and like so many others, Michael was clearly entranced, his tear-swollen brown eyes meeting Sid's. They had the same eyes.

"I had to put her first," Michael muttered, breaking the contact. "I had to defend her."

They looked just like each other. While Zhenya would have missed it at first glance, he remembered the young Sid from all the tapes he used to watch. This kid looked just like Sid did at his age. The haircut was different, there was less confidence in Michael's frame, and the kid was definitely tanner than Sid had ever been, but the cheekbones were there.

The eyes were totally the same.

"Do you think your sister would like some food?" Tanger asked suddenly, breaking some of the tension. "We can walk to the player's lounge, talk to the chefs, and see if they have something for her."

Zhenya noticed how Michael's grip on Marisol tightened at Tanger's mention of taking Marisol somewhere without him. And Marisol hid further in Michael's jacket. By Tanger's grimace, he saw too.

"How about I text our chef what she would like, and we can get it and bring it back?" the trainer, Anthony, said. "You guys won't have to leave the room." Half the adults in the room, including Tanger and Sid, gave him a grateful look at the suggestion.

Michael hesitated, but Marisol leaned into his side, hiding her face; she was a little shy but caught the conversation. "Food? Like fries?" She asked into Michael's side, barely looking at Anthony out of the corner of her eyes.

"Do you like sweet potatoes?" Anthony asked. The Pens facilities might have fries in the concession stands, but what was available to the players was always a little healthier.

She hesitated, making a face like she didn't understand. Then, she pulled in closer to Michael.

“La Batata,” Michael murmured into her hair. “Te gustan mucho las batatas, Marisol.”

Her face cleared at the Spanish. "Si! I do!" she smiled brightly, all shyness and uncertainty forgotten.

Tanger said, "Let's go over to Anthony and talk to him about food for you, Marisol. Maybe we can pick something for your brother, too." He pointed at the phone that Anthony held up. "We'll be right over here on this bench." Tanger walked away from Sid's side and patted the trainer's bench on the other side of the room. Just far away from all for another conversation to occur, but still close. Still within eyesight. Anthony made sure there was a space between him and Tanger for Marisol so Michael's view would not be blocked.

Michael hesitated but put Marisol down on the floor when she squirmed. "I want something with rice and beans, Mari," he said, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

Marisol nodded. “Que tal una quesadilla? Como el de Mamá?”

“Por supuesto. Si tienen alguno. ” Michael said.

Marisol, Tanger, and Anthony all started talking in low voices. Tanger suggested items, and Anthony looked them up so Marisol could see them.

Zhenya turned his attention to the kid in front of him and Sid.

"What made you take pictures?" the care worker asked, still flipping through the phone.

"I dunno." Michael shrugged, tucking himself into the chair in another attempt to make himself smaller. "I was worried about proof. So it's not my word versus hers." He said, then muttered even lower so Zhenya wasn't entirely sure he heard right what he said next. "Or his."

The care worker frowned even more at the phone, catching Michael's worries.

"Can you promise she'll be safe if you're not my dad? Like, she can't go back to my aunt." Michael asked, voice small, focused on Marisol. "She's, like, not good for us."

Sid flinched. "....I don't know, Michael," he said slowly, like it pained him to not agree instantly. He sat back in the chair he had been placed into.

Zhenya's heart reached out to him. Michael clearly only wanted his sister to be safe. And clearly, he thought where they came from wasn't safe at all.

The care worker stepped forward before Sid could finish. "Mr. Crosby can't promise that, Michael. We can only do our best."

"I did my research!" Michael turned and stared at her kind of angrily. The first emotion that Zhenya saw from him wasn't worry or sadness. "Pennsylvania won't send us back. Not really. California will allow "Interstate placements if the child has family or is under four years old." Michael said that as if he was quoting something. "And Marisol is three. And my family. We're good if he - Sid - he is my dad." Michael tripped over Sid's name a little, but he glared at the woman, daring her to say otherwise.

The care worker took it in stride. "But what happens if he's not your father, Michael?" The care worker asked, her voice even. "What did your research say?"

"Pennsylvania won't send us back. Not without good proof, we'll be safe where we're sent. I looked it up! I promise. I got the librarian to help me and everything." Michael pleaded. "We'll be safe. We might not get to stay together, but we'll be safe."

"Ok, Michael…" The care worker sighed. "But it's more complicated than that. Honestly, the system would take a long time to get you both back to California."

Michael's shoulders relaxed at the care worker's words. Zhenya wondered how much of Michael's stress was based on whether he could save his sister.

God, Zhenya could remember what that type of stress and desperation what that felt like. It felt like being pushed into a corner, and there was no other way out. Zhenya took an enormous risk when he fled Russia, and Michael took one just as large. And Michael even took his sister along. But, Jesus, he's so young. Even younger than Zhenya was when he made his own flight.

"But, Michael, we can't promise you can stay together," the care worker said, sounding apologetic. "We can try, but no promises."

"I know that!" Michael said quickly. "I know it doesn't always work out the way people want. Of course, I wanna stay with her, but…." Michael shrugged. "As long as she's safe. I'm ok with that. But we can't go back."

"I don't care. I will take them if need be," Sid muttered suddenly. "I can't let them go back."

Zhenya was surprised to find out if anyone else heard him in the room, as quiet as Sid was. "Sidney," Zhenya said warningly. Of course, he didn't really know what he was warning against, but there was no way that Sid had thought this entirely through.

Sid frowned up at him. "Geno, I would want to help even if we weren't connected."

Zhenya sighed. Sid would want to help. That was who Sid was. Zhenya wanted to help; they had to do something.

"Please. I didn't know what else to do," Michael said, looking at his feet again. He twisted his hands in his lap. "I just need her to be safe."

"You did a good thing getting her out of there," The care worker said; Geno would have to learn her name at some point. "But let's see what happens next. You don't have to face it alone."

#'sid has a teen he didn't know about' au #sidgeno #8771 #i write?#this will take a while to write #working title: Legacy (what is a legacy?)

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rphelperblog · 2 years

Text

An Ember in the Ashes Quote Rp Meme

feel free to change pronouns or wording for rp purposes. A book series written by Sabaa Tahir

“Fear is only your enemy if you allow it to be.”

“As long as there is life, there is hope.”

“Don’t you see? So long as you fight the darkness, you stand in the light.”

“Don't make vows when you don't know the cost.”

“You are an ember in the ashes. You will spark and burn, ravage and destroy. You cannot change it. You cannot stop it.”

“All the beauty of the stars means nothing when life here on earth is so ugly.”

“This is no band of thieves. It’s the Resistance.”

“Life isn't scary enough for you, girl?”

“We never had much, but whatever we did have was made with love, which I now know transforms simple fare into a feast.”

“Once, I'd have wanted that. I'd have wanted someone to tell me what to do, to fix everything. Once, I'd have wanted to be saved.”

“Your fear is good. It makes your story real.”

“Just because he's a good leader doesn't mean he's a good person.”

“I'd rather die than live with no mercy, no honor, no soul.”

“You are full. Full of life and dark and strength and spirit. You are in our dreams. You will burn, for you are an ember in the ashes.”

“I don't need to believe in the supernatural, not when there's worse that roams the night.”

“Life is hard enough without having to avoid entire rooms in my own head.”

“Duty first, unto death.”

"They took our souls a long time ago,”

“Also, he’s shorter than me. Considerably shorter. Half a foot, at least.”

“Slavers catch lies the way spiders catch flies.”

“I recognize the smell—his smell—spice and rain.”

“The thought appears in my head, but I hardly know what I means.”

“You will be chained to the darkness within yourself as surely as if chained to the walls of a prison cell.”

“So my choices are to stay and be evil or to run and be evil. Wonderful.”

“Seeing the enemy as human. A general's ultimate nightmare.”

“Safety is an illusion never to trust.”

“Come on, I want to add. But doing so would be like tattooing “I am up to no good” on my forehead.”

“I swear it to the skies, to the stars. You’ll pay.”

“But he never seemed to focus on what could turn out wrong. He only ever thought about how things could turn out right.”

“Draw a line in your mind. Never cross it again. You have a soul. It's damaged, but it's there. Don't let them take it from you”

“The field of battle is my temple. The swordpoint is my priest. The dance of death is my prayer. The killing blow is my release.”

“Nan always said that as long as there is life, there is hope.”

“In the night, your loneliness crushes you, as if the sky itself has swooped down to smother you in its cold arms.”

“You’ll never forget them, not even after years. But one day, you’ll go a whole minute without feeling the pain. Then an hour. A day. That’s all you can ask for, really.”

“Your kind doesn’t need to read.”

“I realize in that moment that I cannot be afraid of something if there’s no chance it could ever occur.”

“But I’m not strong. I’m weak, and I’m sick of pretending I’m not.”

“All evil here. Monsters. Little monsters and then big ones.”

“So many bleeding, stupid questions. Do girls think like this all the time? No wonder they’re so confusing.”

“You really should run, You’re just going to die.”

“It will get better. You'll never forget them, not even after years. But one day, you'll go a whole minute without feeling the pain. Then an hour. A day. That's all you can ask for, really.”

“The best lies come from the truth.”

“I'm too hot to care.”

“Life is made of so many moments that mean nothing. Then one day, a single moment comes along to define every second that comes after.”

“Life is made of so many moments that mean nothing. Then one day, a single moment comes along to define every second that comes after. Such moments are tests of courage, of strength.”

“You—you were like me. You were a child. A normal child. And that was taken from you.”

“Look at me, do not make me face this alone.”

“I don't need to believe in the supernatural. Not when there's worse that roams that night”

“Beauty's a curse when one lives among men”

“Rage colors her every movement. Rage that has nothing to do with her so-called bodyguards and everything to do with me and her and the confusion rolling around inside the both of us.

This should be interesting”

“Exhaustion is temporary. Pain is temporary. But her dying because I didn't find a way to get her back on time—that's permanent.”

“I do not doubt, I do not hesitate. I am the Lioness's daughter, and I have the Lioness's strength.”

“I realize that some naiive sliver of me hoped that he was better than this. Not good, necessarily. Just not evil.”

“She's still clinging to the side of her mountain, just like I'm still wandering lost in my battlefield.”

“My brother is still fighting, and his screams slice right through me. I know then that I will hear them over and over again, echoing in every hour of every day until I am dead or I make it right. I know it.”

“She has no idea how pretty she is—or what kind of problems her beauty will cause for her at a place like Blackcliff. The wind pulls at her hair again, and I catch her scent—like fruit and sugar.”

“Shadows will bloom in your heart, and you will become everything you hate.”

“I throw her over my shoulder”

“When the fear takes over, use the only thing more powerful, more indestructible, to fight it: your spirit. Your heart.”

The swordpoint is my priest. The dance of death is my prayer. The killing blow is my release.”

“She feels out the melody the way a blind man feels his way forward in an unfamiliar room.”

“You killed my mother, who had a lion’s heart, and my sister, who laughed like the rain, and my father, who captured truth with a few strokes of a pen.

“There will be so much more in between. So much uncertainty. I don't know if we'll survive the catacombs, let alone the rest of it. But it doesn't matter. For now, these steps are enough. These first few precious steps into darkness. Into the unknown. Into freedom.”

“I look up at the stars hanging low in a sky that makes me think I'm seeing the infinite. But beneath their cold gaze, I feel small. All the beauty of the stars means nothing when life here on earth is so ugly.”

“There are two kinds of guilt. The kind that's a burden and the kind that gives you purpose. Let your guilt be your fuel. Let it remind you of who you want to be. Draw a line in your mind. Never cross it again. You have a soul. It's damaged but it's there. Don't let them take it from you.”

Well, it certainly makes you harder to hate.”

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claryxjackson · 2 months

Note

❤️ + mason and sophie

i couldn't do a brief snippet. it turned into a whole scene. and I am in fact rethinking their first kiss so- realization it is. it also comes with a song if you want the whole vibe!

it's set during season one!

Sophie hoisted her duffle bag onto her shoulder, and brushed a couple stubborn loose strands of hair behind her ear as she said, “I was thinking this could be the night you finally sing at karoke night.”

Beside her, Mason scoffed. He closed his locker with a definitive thud and fell into step a couple steps behind her.

“Absolutely not.”

Sophie whirled around, pressing her hands together in an image of mock prayer that would have struck her mother dead on the spot. She put on her best puppy dog eyes, as she stared imploringly up at him.

“C’mon, Buckley. Please. I’ll even go up with you.”

Mason laughed and the sound flooded warmth through her chest. A smile curled her lips in response, even as he shook his head again.

“If you think I’m going to get up on a stage in a bar full of people—”

A gentle chime interrupted his words, and whatever he was going to say died on his lips. He began to pat down his various pockets in search of his phone as the melody continued, an almost frantic urge to his movements. Sophie’s heart dropped—she knew what this meant.

“It’s in your bag.” She’d seen him drop it in at the end of shift and she’d hoped it would prevent a distraction like this. Getting him to agree to go out to the bar with them after shift ever since Hattie’s last visit lately was like pulling teeth, and with only a couple months left before his transfer back to L.A. she relished any time outside of work she got with him.

He fished the phone out of his bag, answering it immediately. Hattie never called twice, he’d said so and Sophie had seen it herself on occasions where he’d tried and failed to locate his phone in time to answer her call. He held the phone up to his ear and silenly mouthed a brief ‘thanks’ in her direction before focusing his attention on the woman on the other end of the phone.

He turned his back to her, and drifted deeper into the station, back towards the lockers, and something in her chest twinged at the sight. Of course he wanted his privacy, he was talking to his fiancée. It was a private, intimate thing, and something she had no business being a part of.

Marjan and Paul were lingering on the apparatus floor, most likely waiting for them, and Sophie did her best to smooth away the undoubtedly disappointed look clouding her face before either of them noticed. Marjan’s eyes flitted to the empty space next to her, where Mason usually stood.

“I take it Buckley’s not coming with us then?”

Heat rose to Sophie’s face and another more disquieting heat settled deep in her chest as at Marjan’s seemingly simple question. She was well acquainted with jealousy, she’d felt its acidic bite the first time she’d met Hattie. She’d slipped up and mentioned it to Marjan, and since then she hadn’t gone a single shift without making some comment about it. She hadn’t needed to tell Paul— he;d pieced it together on his own, which made it all the more embarrassing.

They’d all been through this rodeo enough in the months since the station had officially reopened that Marjan hardly needed to ask, but she always did anyway. Hattie called, Mason bailed on drinks at the bar, and Marjan asked Sophie about it. As if she would have some secret insight into what Mason would or would not be doing for the night. She shook her head and shifted her duffle bag on her shoulder.

“Nah. Hattie called him.”

Sophie thought she’d done a pretty good job keeping the disappointment from her voice. She’d avoided looking down at her shoes like a kicked puppy at the very least. She must’ve failed because Marjan’s eyebrows arched slightly and she caught Paul’s gaze as identical knowing smiles graced their lips. Sophie briefly wondered how she could pull off the mechanics of kicking them both in the shin at the same time.

She threw her hands up before either of them managed to say anything.

“Don’t either of y’all say a damn word.”

Both of them ignored her.

“He’s engaged.” Marjan, to her credit, coated her words in a soft blanket of sympathy. Paul did not.

“And moving a thousand miles away in like a month.”

Sophie ducked her head as her face flushed again, this time from shame. “I know.” Marjan looped her arm through hers and Sophie leaned gratefully into her touch.

She’d never been particularly practical, her heart even less so, and she was beginning to realize it didn’t care about either of those things. She had feelings for Mason in spite of it.

#it's not my best but its been so long since i've written anything #for them or just in general so #mason x sophie #mason buckley #sophie marshall #answer #ask: mason #ask: sophie #kinda #my writing #thank you so much for asking!!!#seriously i missed them #fic: going home #oh they're so good in season one #is ths even really realization? idk but its something #i also have not edited this so beware

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xlsoii · 4 months

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Well, I'm upset...you know me, I'm a fan of Andy Weir books. The first book I read was Project Heil Mary. I fell in love with that book. Then, I quickly bought The Martian and read it as well, and as it should happen, I searched for the book "Artemis" to buy and read it, after that I finished the martian book, I was very excited, and I read those lines with enthusiasm until I was shocked that the heroine,Jazz Bashara, is Saudi…Just like me.

that was the last thing I expected. Then the second shock was that her father was Muslim... like me too.

Well, there is no problem here, but the problem lies after I delved deeper into the book, what did Weir think about when he opened the topic of religions? Do you remember when Jazz visited her father and asked him about his strange invention, whatever its name, that was able to determined the location of the qibla so that he could pray. Why did you have to add cheap, failed comedy lines like:

“Do you think you can impress Muhammad in this way?”

truly ? Was he forced to add that nonsense?

Or was he forced to write "Uff!" When she realized that her father had fixed two hooks on the wall to hang prayer rugs?

What would happen if your father did that? I am not exaggerating.

I do not want my religion to be affected in this way.

This made me disgusted. No matter how her father responded to her, even if he spoke to her in a rude manner, Jazz remains the main character of the book, and all readers subconsciously lean towards the main character, no matter how evil or good she is.

I was shocked by the amount of rumors Andy was talking about Saudi Arabia as well. It made me close the book that night and go to sleep feeling disgusted.

Also, the book talks all the time about sex, dating and fornication,Cmon…not a single page is devoid of this disgusting topic... Don't you think that mentioning this topic once or twice is enough?

Every time Jaz and Kelvin, who were young boys no more than ten years old, talked to each other through messages, it had to include sex and dating, yuck.

I lost my passion for that book and threw it on my desk, not thinking I would ever open it again.

I also lost my love for Andy and his books. His constant talk about Saudi Arabia and the religion of Islam is annoying. Why doesn’t he respect these topics? Is it because he was an almost uncommon writer that he thought that no Arab would read that bad book? I am very surprised

I did not finish the book and I will never finish it as long as the writer thinks in this disgusting way.

#andy wier #artimes #jazz #jasmine beshara

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lovenojudgement · 7 months

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October 15, 2023 7:36AM (Manila Time)

Last full day.

Today feels like it’s going to be my last day here on Earth. My last full day to be able to fix everything. My last full day with family. My last full day in our house in Manila. And my last full day with the love of my life.

I woke up just a few minutes ago before writing this. Yesterday was so tiring but we just really had to make the best out of every single hour that we have with each other physically. John and I attended a wedding. We had to be up by five in the morning then we had to drive up to Tagaytay. Then crazy traffic welcomed us on our way back home because of an event then we had to freshen up because we planned dinner with our families. It is the first time that our moms met. Everything went great but with all honesty, I could not embrace the moment.

I did not know which to feel first. Should I eat because we ate at one of my favorite steakhouses, should I rest for a little bit because we had a whole day of activities, should I savor the moment of our moms meeting but it was mostly the sadness in my heart that gave the most weight last night. Even on our way home while I was driving. John and my mom were talking about things and I was thinking. If he just came in a little bit earlier, maybe I really had to think things over and over and over before I decided if I really wanted to work in the States.

Everytime we go to a church either for a mass or we just had to drop by and pray, I always thank God for granting my prayers. I remembered before, after my biggest and heaviest heartbreak, I told God that I pray and ask for someone who would fit my heart best. To be honest, John was not a good fit right away. But through time he is learning and I also realized that the most important thing is that his love is real and that would never be questionnable.

Ever since we were together, I always pray that one day, I hope our dreams for the future aligns. I know that it would never be easy to leave things behind especially those that you have worked hard for. The fruits that you just have been recently reaping because of the seeds that you planted for years. I know it might sound unfair but I hope one day he’ll be willing to risk things just to be with me. To try and see what life might be with me. How life would be when we start it new. I would not lie either.

In times like this, my heart knows the difference when I am home. But I also know, that life would not be called a life without sacrifices in it. Life would not make it comfortable on its own.

In time, when all the stars align for the two of us, I hope and pray that we will be one of the strongest universe that God has ever created.

I love you so much.

DGPS

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livredebelle · 1 year

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Fifteen.

".......!"

No matter how hard I pounded on his chest with my fists, Heath kept kissing me feverishly, and his arms locked around my waist to pull me into a tight bear hug. The breath in my lungs gone, in a matter of seconds I found myself going limp in his embrace, my legs turning to jelly as I let the kiss between us deepen without further thought or inhibition.

My brain couldn't understand it. My mind couldn't wrap around my thought process, because there was none. No matter how hard I tried to come up with a reason I shouldn't kiss him, I couldn't.

It was inevitable, and ineffable. It was like falling into a bottomless black hole, with no thought of escape or freedom.

I hadn't realized it--or maybe I had, but had just been in denial--but I was inexplicably, without a doubt, attracted to him.

Maybe it started on the day I met him, when I first felt this mysterious darkness hiding behind his smile. My intuition had told me he was dangerous. It seemed I was attracted to such things.

Maybe Heath wasn't the pervert--as I'd accused him before. Maybe it was really me.

I didn't care. As Heath continued to kiss me, his tongue knotting with mine and our breaths getting hotter together, I didn't have a single care in the world.

Finally, after God knows how long, my senses came rushing back. He's involved with your stepfather's business. You don't want to get involved with a guy like him. Plus, you have Quinn, who's loyal and kind and waiting downstairs for you, not knowing what you're doing here...

Gathering all my strength, I pushed Heath away.

"Enough! Stop fucking around with me...!"

Before I realized what I had done, my hand moved on its own and slapped him across the face.

"I'm not your goddamn toy. Find someone else to take advantage of."

"Ha... take advantage?" he managed to say. His eyes burned with passion and anger. "Admit it, you wanted to kiss me as much as I wanted to. How much longer are you going to feign innocence?"

"I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about. I'm leaving right now."

Fuming, I spun on my heel and left him there in the corner of the rooftop. I wasn't really mad at him; I was mostly mad at myself and utterly humiliated. Here I had been talking big in front of him, but he was right--I was the one who wanted him. I had never felt this way before, and it felt so big that it scared the hell out of me.

Subconsciously, I touched my slightly swollen lips from the passionate kiss. I could still taste him...

Heath grabbed my hand. "Wait. I'm sorry, don't go. I promise I won't do that again without your permission."

That wasn't the problem. The problem was, I kinda wanted him to.

"Great. I mean, I seriously need to start heading back; they're going to worry about me. I didn't tell anyone I was coming up here."

"Okay, we'll go down together. I need to return, too, I suppose."

"Okay."

We headed back towards the elevator together in awkward silence. As we stepped inside and went back downstairs to the party, the whole time I was silently mouthing a prayer to the gods for self-control. Inside such a cramped space like the elevator, the electrical current between us ran intense and I wanted to do nothing more than to kiss him again, now that I'd gotten a taste.

What the fuck was wrong with me. There were more important matters to pay attention to--for example, I wanted to ask him to what degree he was involved with Richard, and what he had meant earlier when he said he was the future beneficiary of the company. Was that true? Then why was Richard the president and CEO? None of it made any sense, and I had the feeling that even if I asked Heath directly, he wouldn't answer. So unfair. I was getting fed up with people who kept secrets from me.

When the elevator finally reached the ground level with a ding, I breathed out a sigh of relief. From my peripheral vision, I saw Heath's brow furrow in annoyance; perhaps he thought I was relieved to be getting away from him... which was partly true.

"Where is your family?" he inquired, clearing his throat and straightening his tie. "I'll escort you to them."

"No, really, that's absolutely not necessary--"

"Irina! There you are."

My body tensed rigid. It was Quinn, hurriedly walking over to me with a worried look on his face. And then he saw that I wasn't alone, and he too tensed after an initial look of confusion.

The tension between the three of us, under the glare of the ballroom lights, was palpable.

"Who's this?" Quinn's voice was full of distrust and skepticism as he finally broke the ice.

"Pleasure to meet you," Heath said impassively; his cold eyes assessed Quinn from his head to his toes. "My name is Heath Ashford; I work with Richard Lexington. And you are...?"

"Ah, I see. Irina, were you with him this whole time? Jeez, idiot, I thought you'd left already or something, and was about to come after you. Good thing I didn't."

"Come on, Quinn... let's say goodbye to my mom, and let's head home." The guilt was starting to weigh in on my conscience. I grabbed Quinn by his sleeve and tugged, like a child. Please get me the hell out of here.

"Okay. I figured you wouldn't be hungry. Let's head back; I think I saw your mom heading this way."

"Wait, Rina," Heath said, then hesitated. I was mind-boggled. What was he doing? I had no idea what was running through his head. I just wanted to run away from here so that I could push the memory of him and I to a dark corner of my mind and never face it again. "Will you please hear me out? I wish to apologize for my behavior earlier. I was being awfully rude, and I'd like to talk to you in private about that."

"Hah? What did you do to her, bastard?" I felt Quinn's hand twitch--he was irked. "Look, I don't know who you think you are, but if you did anything to her I'll make you pay."

"Please, ease up." Heath smiled angelically, but it was eerie. "Are you her guardian? Or perhaps her boyfriend, an older brother? If so, then your overprotectiveness would make sense. But if not... this is rather peculiar behavior. Besides, this matter is between the two of us, and she's a perfectly capable adult. Why are you coddling her?"

I stared at Heath incredulously. Seriously, what on Earth was he doing? It almost seemed like he was goading Quinn into a fight. Knowing Quinn's short temper, I decided not to let this drag on.

"Come on," I snapped, grabbing him by the arm and shooting Heath a dirty look. "We're leaving. This guy means nothing to me." And I spun on my heel and left Heath there.

What a mess this night had become. I was so exhausted already. I was at my limit...

When we got to the entrance of the hotel lobby, I turned to face Quinn. His face was grim, and he obviously wasn't pleased.

"What happened back there? Irina, how do you know him?" he interrogated.

"Really... ha..." I grimaced and couldn't help but sigh. I really didn't have the energy for this. I started feeling indignant. What was up with the third degree? He wasn't my boyfriend or anything. My temper flared, and venomous words began to form on the tip of my tongue. My self-destructive self was on standby, ready to destroy my relationship with Quinn, who had been nothing but a good friend to me. I closed my eyes, rubbed my temples and took a deep breath to calm myself. "It was nothing. Yeah, I do know him, but barely--he works with the school, and now, it appears, he also works with my soon-to-be stepfather. I can't explain the coincidence... but we were just talking about it up on the roof, where I ran into him while I was taking a smoke break."

"Oh." Quinn visibly relaxed at my reasonable explanation. "You should've told me if you were going somewhere. You didn't return for a long time, so I got worried."

"I know. I'm sorry, I should've texted you."

"Nah, it's fine. I was just worried... I know that things are stressful for you right now, but if you ever need a shoulder to lean on, I'm here. You know that, right?"

Quinn gave me his signature crooked grin. My heart ached for him, now that I had realized that I was interested in someone else. What could I do? Wasn't there anything I could do that would help lessen the pain he would eventually have to go through?

"...Yeah, I do. Thanks, Quinn."

"Rina? Where are you going, honey?" Mother's voice rang from behind me sharply. I turned to face her. "The party's not over yet, dear. You remember our agreement."

My eyes narrowed. "That's enough, Mother." I looked up at Quinn. "Can you please go wait outside for me? I don't want to cause a scene in front of you." I was almost certain he would protest, but after a moment of uncertainty, he nodded and left obediently. Then, I turned back to my mother and glared at her fiercely.

"You can't control me like your puppet anymore. I simply told you I'd attend; I didn't specify how long I'd stay. When will you stop being so full of yourself?"

I wasn't afraid to talk back to her. I never had been. In fact, that was one of my downfalls--I was too careless with my words. In order to protect myself, I would do anything--even saying the very words that would drive a person to his or her demise. I knew Mother; she acted tough, and she was truly a poisonous existence like a snake, but she was insecure. If I drove her into a corner, the pressure would be too much for her and she'd crumble.

Or so I thought.

"What did you say? Do you want to nullify our agreement, then? I guess you're fine with working at a cafe forever?"

"You don't scare me."

"Fine, but I know something that will. Have you met up with your dear sister yet, honey? Our poor, sweet Rose has gone through nothing but suffering for the past couple of years, and it's all about to come to a conclusion tonight."

It took a moment for the meaning behind those words to sink in. I felt sick to my stomach upon hearing her threat. "What... what do you mean?"

"My second ex-husband called. He wants Rosalie back as his daughter under custody, and I told him I'd think about it."

"What?! Why--how could you do that? You know what kind of a man he is!" I sputtered.

Mother's second husband, a rich entertainment mogul named Pete Durman, had been a terrifying and relentless father figure in our past. Their marriage only lasted five years, but it was still enough to give me nightmares. After getting pregnant with Rosalie, Mother had forced him to propose to her, and they had reluctantly married; she for his money, he for what little sense of duty and responsibility he had left. They fought constantly; Pete was a drunk and would often throw things and abuse Mother; and with Rosalie so young, I had to protect her by locking us both up in our bedroom and never going out until they were both asleep--the only time I dared to venture out to the kitchen in a desperate attempt to grab food and provide for my sister and myself. Those long, endless days and nights were full of misery: starvation, the sounds of Rose crying, and me cowering under my blanket, covering my ears with my hands to make it all stop. The only reprieve had been going to school, where I could study and laugh with my friends and pretend that my world was still whole.

But one day, even the solace I found from school was taken away from me. On a particularly unlucky night, I had been making my usual rounds to the kitchen for leftover food, starving, when Pete had caught me and released his anger on me. Mother hadn't come home that night, and he flew into a rage that his punch bag hadn't been present. Then he had found me, and evidently thought I would suffice, kicking me until I couldn't breathe and punching me in the face... As a result, I had formed a bruise on my left cheek, and it was impossible to hide. Mother had tried applying concealer to make it less noticeable, but in vain. I was only seven at the time. The school administrators got involved, and my parents were both called in for a meeting with the principal, but ultimately nothing happened; it was bad publicity for the school, and no doubt Pete had used some hush money. But the damage in my social life could not be undone. No one wanted to be my friend, because they were afraid of the haggard way I looked, and the bad rumors about my family continued to spread like a disease.

The looks of pity were just as bad as the looks of disgust and fear.

'I heard she comes from an abusive family...'

'I never noticed, but she always wears the same clothes. Doesn't she know that she smells?'

'My mom told me to stay away from her. They're a bad influence.'

The unpleasant memories from my childhood were still so vivid. As I was wrenched back into the present, I was at a loss for words.

My mother continued, not noticing my mental breakdown, "Pete contacted me earlier this week, saying he wanted to have someone to pass his inheritance to. But for that he wanted to become the legal guardian, and if I let him, then she'll have to go live with him. Wouldn't this be a nice opportunity for Rosalie, I thought! But of course I understand how you feel, love, considering how he was in the past. I have no idea what kind of scum he is now, but it never hurts to gamble, especially when it's someone else's fate, hmm?"

"...You're a monster. She's your daughter!"

"I don't have time to negotiate with you; I'm far too busy as the soon-to-be madam of the company."

"Then what the fuck do you want?!"

I was this close to losing it.

"I want you to move back in with our family, Rina."

My mouth fell open in shock. This was her endgame? I hadn't dreamed she would demand for this. I had assumed that she, like me, had tired of living with me and would rather not if she could help it. After all, almost all my life I was told by her constantly that I was the bane of her life, and that she wished I had never been born.

"But why? It's already been three years since I moved out, and everybody's happier..."

"Richard wants to keep the image of a happy family for the press--it's good publicity that will keep the shareholders happy. And what kind of a family would we be if we lived apart?"

"But you hate me, and I hate you. Is this... circus show really worth the stress?"

"Dear, I don't hate you." Mother's lips twitched, but her smile didn't waver. "I apologize for any past misgivings. I was too young to become a mother, and I was so inexperienced... I didn't realize I was lashing out and hurting you. Richard made me see the faults of my ways. But I promise I'll do better this time; rest assured, I'm not interested in what you do in your life, as long as we live under the same roof. You'll still have your freedom--somewhat."

I was completely dumbfounded. This woman was capable of apologizing? It didn't feel sincere one bit, but I still trembled.

"You'll go to school like you've wanted. The only obligation you'd have is to live in the condominium that Richard owns; we'll all be living there. Since I know this will be difficult to adjust, Richard suggested that we give you the penthouse floor. It is yours. That floor is separated from us--we're on the ground floor. You'll have your privacy, and we'll have ours. That doesn't sound so bad, does it?"

I had to admit, it didn't sound horrendous, yet I couldn't believe a word she said. Would I really have my privacy and freedom?

As if reading my mind, she said, "I really mean it. You're an adult, and you are capable of taking care of yourself. No offense, sweetie, but I have better things to do than manage your life."

'Figures...'

I laughed and inwardly chastised myself for letting myself think for one second that she could care about me.

If all I had to do was play the part of a prodigal daughter, then truthfully I didn't see much harm. I didn't believe that she'd meant everything she promised tonight, but I also didn't want to risk Rosalie's happiness and life. She was only sixteen; she still had two more years until she could obtain her freedom from Mother's grasp... and if all I had to do was sacrifice myself now, I'd gladly do it to make up for my past sins towards her.

"...All right. I agree to your terms."

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yandere-daydreams · 2 years

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Yandere “Guardian Angel” w/ a twist!

A demon who pretends to be your Guardian Angel to get close to you. Why are your wings red? Angels come in different colors. Why did your nose start bleeding when we entered a church? I used a lot of my power to fight off some scary demons last night. It just a spooky coincidence. Where’s your halo? Hidden. I choose not to make it visible. That’s a lie! He got it stripped away for a reason…….Not that you need to know. His love for you is genuine, it’s just the way he expresses it is psychotic.

tw - unhealthy relationships, codependence, obsessive behavior, mentions of blood/death, implied dubcon.

To be fair, they are your guardian angel. Or, they were, at least, when they still lived in the realm above, when they still had a role to play, a rank to fall into, taxing responsibilities handed down to them from a greater power that only ever saw fit to speak through all its many voice pieces. They used to be so attentive, so diligent, so willing to spend day after day, year after year, decade after decade perched on the edge of their post, gazing down at the mortal world and lending a hands where they can, when they're allowed to. They were meticulous, cautious to the point of paranoia, but that might've been their problem, the reason they fell so much faster than all their many slothful brothers and distracted sisters. They tried to look too closely, to reach too far. By the time they realized what they were doing, they'd already fallen over the side.

And they do still protect you, they're just closer, now, able to do so much more than just nudge and tap at the course your life is supposed to take. They don't enjoy lying to you, but it comes so easily now, and the way your eyes light up when they tell you that not every angel has white wings, how bright your smile grows when they say that they'd rather be able to walk by your side (without blinding you, or worse) than wear a halo, how tightly you cling to them while they explain that everyone has an angel, you're just one of the very, very, very rare few who can make contact yours - you make it difficult to stop, difficult to want to do anything but pull you into their lap and mumble the sweet nothings that form on their tongue more naturally than any prayer ever had. They let you comb your fingers through their feathers, unaware that the clouded grey you've always been so fond of is little more than char and ash, and when their claws begin to grow in, when their teeth begin to sharpen, they laugh off your concern, cup your cheek and kiss the top of your head as they coo and hum, as they tell you that it's fine, it's alright, this just means they have yet another way to keep you safe. You're such a pious little thing, so willing to believe them. More than happy to smile and nod along, as long as they have the right words.

You're kind to them, grateful for all they claim to do, loving, even, on the rare occasion you can be convinced to let your worship veer more physical than spiritual, and they do what they can to repay you, to make all their promises a little less hollow. There are so many threats, in your world, so many dangerous things they couldn't see from the heavens, and they have to remain ever-busy, ever-vigilant in their effort not to let a single act of harm befall you. They used to deliberate over each and every decision they had to make, used to agonize over how they could possibly protect you without hurting anyone else, but it's so easy to do what they have to, now, to cut down all the evil-doers who've only ever want to hurt you, to draw blood and separate skin from muscle and hold you in their arms as you cry over another lost friend, another lover found torn limb from limb. They never claim to be innocent, but they never have to, either, not when you're so sweet, so understanding, so reliant on the belief that their presence in your life, in your home, in your bed keeps you safe, because they are keeping you safe.

Because they're still your protector. They're still your guardian.

They just can't be your angel, anymore.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere prompts #yandere theory #general

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favoniuscodex · 3 years

Text

road trip headcanons [ genshin guys ]

prompt: road trip hcs for the genshin guys characters: albedo, childe, dainsleif, diluc, kaeya, scaramouche, xiao, zhongli w/ gn!reader word count: 2.3k words warnings: none? fluff, modern!au

a/n: for all the guys,,, besides the unreleased ones/ones we haven't met in quests HAHA

albedo

when asked to create a road trip playlist, albedo is the type to queue up scientific podcasts. he says they're relaxing and that being idle in the car is a great time to learn.

if he's not the one driving, he 100% has a blanket and is cozy in the passenger's seat. if there's no conversation, he might as well use the time to sleep, right?

but, if you ask albedo about his current research or begin to tell him about your day, he'll be wide awake and either listening or blabbing away. unlike how he reacts to most people, conversations with you never bore him.

if you do nag him into playing music instead, he'll play classical music. it's mentally stimulating, okay?

he'll have fun telling you species of trees that the two of you pass.

is an excellent driver. he's smart and driving is a piece of cake for him. probably the best driver of all of the guys listed here and he's very quiet with his frustrations as well.

if you let albedo fall asleep, he'll fill the car with soft snores before abruptly shaking his head as he sits up, awake.

if conversation lulls and he's not driving yet can't sleep, he'll pull out his sketchbook and (not-so-secretively) draw pictures of you.

... will likely ask to stop for ice cream. he has a sweet tooth... use it as a chance to steal a kiss with the excuse that he has ice cream on the corner of his mouth!

will plan what hotels you stop at ahead of time because albedo knows you'll get tired and he wants to ensure that you're well-rested, as compared to having to sleep in the car for part of the time.

childe

is a pretty decent driver but takes aggressive drivers as competition, so don't let this man drive in the city.

childe will stop for fast food if you'd like, but also enjoys preparing snacks for the two of you to take. look, he cut you a little bag of strawberries in the shape of hearts! he's kind of a dork about this so hype him up, he'll get flustered but in a good way.

has a playlist of 00's bops that he knows every single word to. WILL make you duet promiscuous with him.

he's pretty noisy, but burns out quickly in energy. after an hour or two of singing, he'll likely suddenly get kind of mellow and go quiet for a few minutes hehe.

will find anything and everything to talk about. he doesn't want you to get bored!

tries to drive the car more than you because he doesn't want you to feel obligated to drive ;;; he just wants you to relax!

will point out weird license plates or bumper stickers he sees on other cars.

whenever you two stop to use the bathroom, he probably ends up kissing you for several minutes in the parking lot lol

inadvertently messes up his sleep schedule by napping too much

definitely dreams of you in his sleep and sleep talks through it. the two of you can have a conversation while he naps in the car, but he won't remember any of it nor will his contributions even be coherent.

dainsleif

naturally, he's just kind of a... quiet presence. you'll have to handle the aux cord or start conversation, otherwise dain will sit there brooding in his own thoughts.

probably hasn't been on a road trip with anyone before, but finds himself really appreciating your company as he drives!

is a good driver but absolutely gets confused by toll roads. forgets his wallet in his luggage, which is packed securely in the trunk, so he's fumbling for spare change whenever the two of you pass one.

probably doesn't like fast food but will begrudgingly eat french fries from mcdonalds if you stop. (get him a happy meal... you can watch him fumble with the toy for a few minutes)

doesn't like to sleep if you're driving. he knows you're capable, he just has a natural tendency to worry that something will happen if you're not awake.

dainsleif will tell you stories of his past if you ask him, but only if you've been on the road for a few hours. there's something about the soft intimacy of being in the car with you for that long that makes him want to share parts of himself with you, but only if you wish to hear them.

if you two pass a truly scenic area, he'll stop to take your picture. he's sentimental, okay? it'll take a bit of coaxing to get him to take a selfie with you, though.

refuses to go above the speed limit. dain says they're there for a reason. however, if you call him a bootlicker for this, he refuses to go no less than 5 over the speed limit from then on.

doesn't recline his chair whatsoever. his legs and torso are perpendicular.

... will want to hold your hand as he's driving. sure, two hands is safer, but he likes the feel of your hand in his!

diluc

offers to just buy the two of you first class plane tickets to wherever you wish to go, even if it's only an hour or two drive away.

doesn't really get the appeal of a road trip at first, yet agrees to go anyways... he can't resist when you look at him with such pleading eyes.

after you explain the appeal to him, diluc nods as if he understands, then offers to pay for a driver so the two of you can sit in the backseat together. he clearly does not understand.

making diluc eat mcdonalds for the first time on a road trip. is baffled by the concept of a bts meal. eats it anyways. is slightly mad you got a happy meal and he didn't because he's jealous of the toy.

probably packs a whole charcuterie board as a snack or whatever lmfao but FRESH GRAPES,,, fresh grapes galore,,,

whips out a clear cup full of grape juice and starts chugging it while driving until you lecture him that a cop will probably think its wine and pull the two of you over.

if you're driving, diluc unabashedly just stares at you when he thinks you're not paying attention. he finds you pretty, okay?

doesn't really know the songs you play on the aux too well, yet hums along to them under his breath if he can pick up on the melody.

doesn't like small talk, but it's not small talk if it's you! diluc... might not be the best conversationalist for the hours you're in the car together, but he'll try, just for you!

will book a really nice hotel for the two of you then immediately just tugs you into bed with him. just because the two of you spent the whole day in the car together doesn't mean he's had enough of you yet -- it's not like he could just reach over and give you a hug in the middle of driving!

kaeya

the best music of all of the guys. easily the most trustworthy with the aux. probably has a pretty decent singing voice, yet won't sing louder than a soft melody.

likes to stop for fast food on the road, but also really tries to find local restaurants in the area for the two of you to eat at. he figures giggling with you in a booth is a nice break from the eyesore of the same repetitive scenes while driving.

whines if you don't hold his hand, whether it be you driving or him driving. you can't sit there looking that cute and not hold his hand.

will snore if he falls asleep so you're probably gonna have to wake him up whenever he dozes off if you want to stay sane.

definitely speeds but then nearly breaks whenever he sees a possible cop car. if you weren't awake before, you certainly are now whenever he abruptly changes the speed.

is really experienced with city driving, so if it makes you anxious, he's your best bet.

will randomly comment on how cute you look while driving and will also curse out anyone on the road who makes you angry while you drive. he's supportive! plus he finds it fun

likes to drive into the night. its especially nice for him if you're in an area with low light pollution. he finds the night sky fascinating and, much to your surprise, knows little constellations and will point them out to you.

likes to play a game when the two of you are on the road. he describes a person that the both of you know in abstract terms and your job is to guess them. whenever kaeya starts off with a negative description, you know he's talking about diluc.

he's often busy with work and kaeya finds that love is stored in the little things, so being able to spend this time with you, even if it's the mundane task of driving, means the world to him.

scaramouche

surprisingly doesn't get road rage. instead, he gets passenger road rage, in which he gets really angry if people seem like they're trying to fuck with you while you're driving.

very knowledgeable about little hole-in-the-wall places to stop on your drive... no, he didn't make an itinerary, stop looking at his phone!

doesn't really like to stop for fast food either. would prefer to stop at a sit-down restaurant, mainly so you can relax.

it's hard for you to irritate him, but you realize you can push his buttons by asking 'are we there yet?'. scaramouche will passive aggressively gesture to the gps and estimated arrival time.

if you ask him again immediately after he does that, he'll start muttering prayers in snezhnayan that you can't understand. if you didn't know him better, you'd be petrified.

this is your ONE CHANCE to smother him in compliments. he has nowhere to run away. instead, he has to sit there while you tell him how lovely and cute he is, all while slowly turning into a tomato in the process.

probably only wears pajamas during the road trip. why look fancy when you could feel comfy?

subtly offering snacks and drinks all the time to you. he just wants to make sure you're well taken care of, even if he can't necessarily communicate it in the nicest way.

you can tell he's about to fall asleep when he starts getting all sappy to you. you're his soft spot and scaramouche just... really wants you to know how much he appreciates you. no, he's not crying. harbingers don't cry. look away. your eyes are deceiving you, just like the stars.

xiao

bounces his legs constantly in the car. he doesn't ride them very often and is unused to the mechanical movements, so bouncing his leg soothes him.

also gets a bit antsy after a while, so he's nearly clawing at the walls by the time the two of you stop to take a break and walk around.

clenches the steering wheel a bit too hard... but you don't comment on it. he looks tense enough while driving.

surprisingly has pretty decent music. it's likely just a generic lo-fi playlist he found on spotify, but its a far cry from what you expected him to actually play.

like diluc, xiao will stare at you while he's driving. he's an admirer, and he finds the way your brow subtly furrows as you see something in the distance to be utterly mesmerizing.

call him out for it and he gets all embarrassed, but will also grumble about how he loves you under his breath.

he's kind of clumsy with a kamera whenever the two of you stop, but he likes to take pictures of everything!

sometimes, when the two of you are sightseeing wherever you decide to stop, you'll suddenly notice that xiao is no longer by your side. look behind you and you'll find xiao stopping to pet and talk to any dog that the two of you pass.

likes to buy you little trinkets from gift shops if they remind him of you. oh, the little sculpture is the same color of your eyes? oh, it's an object that has your birthstone in it? oh, it's a cute stuffed plush of your favorite animal? xiao's secretly buying it while your distracted and giving it to you in the car.

zhongli

music isn't very necessary when you have thousands of years of information stored in one being right next to you!

likes to use the road trip as driving practice... he's still acclimating to living with humanity.

uses a gps just in case roads have changed, but is very familiar with the terrain and tells you stories about different areas you pass through.

isn't too familiar with the human side of things, so it's up to you to figure out where the two of you will stop for lunch and dinner. just... no seafood for him, please.

likes to hold your hand while he's driving and rub his thumb back and forth of your knuckles. he finds it comforting.

you had to explain to him what a road trip consisted of before the two of you set out (as, y'know, he used to be a god and is used to teleporting places) and zhongli is utterly enthralled by the concept.

part of humanity that zhongli is still trying to grasp is how it's okay if results aren't immediate. sometimes the fun is found in the journey, not the destination, and zhongli truly understands that during his road trip with you.

while he has eons of information of his own life to share, zhongli also enjoys sitting back and discussing your own life stories. sure, they might not be as grand as tales of the archon war, but they're you, so zhongli adores them nonetheless.

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gustingirl · 2 years

Text

eyes, nose, lips | j.kiszka x reader x s.kiszka

"I can still feel you, but like a burnt out flame, burnt and destroyed all of our love"

- in which you discover how dangerous a broken heart can be -

request: Can I request with Jakey , The reader thought that Jake broke up with her but he actually didn’t because she didn’t listen to him clearly #71. "I’m not going to apologise for this. Not anymore” and so she ends up hooking up with Sammy #90. "I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking.” Or #96 “I’m Yours” and he finds out about it #166. "Is that what you’re doing? Trying to make me to hate you?”

warnings: smut, mentions of sexual acts, graphic sexual description and vocabulary

part 1: [x]

part 2: [x]

part three (love or lust?): [x]

They say that, at the end of the day, we are our own enemies. How much of that can be true? No matter how many people we meet in our lives, we only live our entire lives with ourselves. As much as we can hate that, it’s true. And all these positive people will say this to help you feel better with ourselves, especially our bodies. But nobody ever truly talks about what it means to spend your entire life living with your own mind. Maybe we can learn to love our bodies the way they are, but our mind will always be, really, our biggest enemy.

It always seems like your mind wants you to fail, right? It will always try to boycott your feelings, your hopes, your prayers, everything. And when you’ve been in a relationship for so long, your mind finds the way to ruin your entire happiness. No intuition worked here, no. It was your own insecurity making its way around your mind, making you believe your boyfriend no longer loved you.

You and Jake had been dating for God knows how long. You believed it had been 3 years while Jake was sure you guys started dating 5 years ago. It was evident that neither of you knew exactly when the relationship started, and that should have been a sign for you. As much as you really loved Jake, something always felt wrong. It was like, too good to be true, right?

Because have you ever seen that man? He is sex on a stick, a fucking dream come true for any hopeless romantic. It’s no surprise you had fallen in love within seconds after meeting him. It had been through friends in common, typically. And it had felt so good since day one. But the years going by, and your mind playing tricks on you, started making you believe this had only been a dream that you could only dream of, and never truly live it.

His job didn’t exactly help, either. How can you control a famous rockstar? And how can you trust someone whose role models have always been these legendary rock stars who had more groupies than friends? You truly wanted to believe he was not like those singers your mom was a fan of during her teenage years. But as always, your mind was not your best friend, and all sorts of insecurities arised from just thinking of what Jake was doing whenever he “was at work”.

At some point in your life, you decided to keep your friends close and your enemies even closer. You had gotten tired of your insecurities keeping you awake every single night so, as your mind has always wanted, you decided to stay closer to Jake, visit him at work and basically follow him around, something you had never done since you began dating.

You showed up the very first time at their studio when they were recording their newest album. Your visit surprised Jake for good and he was the happiest boy with his lovely girlfriend by his side. He didn’t realize what your intentions were until months later, when he noticed you were by his side every single day, with no exceptions. You should have expected he would find out eventually. It all went down with one single, rather stupid, fight.

“Y/N, you’re still here? Don’t you have something else to do?” Jake suddenly asked one day as he was tuning his guitar and waiting for his bandmates to show up. The question didn’t sound the way he wanted to; he truly was curious, but you did not find curiosity in those words.

“Why? You don’t want me around?” you fired back, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Jake sighed before replying

“Did I say that? Or did I ask if you had something else to do?” he truly wasn’t in the mood to argue about this

“It sounded like you were kicking me out” you knew by then that your mind with your insecurities were taking over you, as you wouldn’t think twice what you were saying

“Seriously? You’re gonna start this again? The guys will be here any second, you really want them to hear all this?”

“I don’t give a shit about that. I wanna know why you’re so eager to be left alone. Is someone else joining the party? I don’t know, some horny 19 year old girl, big fan of your band, who magically happened to-”

“Don’t even start!” Jake’s sudden raise of voice made you shut up instantly, even taking a few steps back. He never was a pretty angry person, and for some reason it could always cool you down “You always do this! You always ruin it!”

“Ruin what? Your life?” you had no idea what feeling was now possessing you, but it wasn’t pretty

“When the FUCK did I say you ruin my life?”

What you had started out of jealousy and insecurity was now burning you back, and you knew that you couldn’t take this. You could barely win an argument that you had started, as you were aware that they never made sense. Before Jake could see you realizing you were wrong, you rolled your eyes and left, believing silence would be enough of an answer for now.

“Oh you’re leaving!?” FINE!” you could hear him yell back as you left the room.

Your heart dropped, however, once you made it to the hallway after closing the door behind you.

“I’M FUCKING SICK OF YOU, WE’RE DONE”

Did…did Jake just break up with you? No way, he wouldn’t do it that way. But, again, that fight was not an usual one. Jake seemed more annoyed than ever. And now that you think about it, Jake had been acting so strange the last few months. Was there someone else? Was he tired of a relationship? Was he finally tired of you?

Your mind was screaming, kicking and fighting more now than ever, and you truly needed it to shut up. You had noticed you had been standing by the closed door for a while and the room was suddenly too small, despite being a wide hallway. Upon feeling the need of fresh air, you inhaled those boogers that would always appear when crying was all you needed and you began walking towards the entrance.

Immersed in your thoughts, keeping your head down to avoid uncomfortable questions, you never once realized someone was coming your way. This someone was as distracted as you were, and the two collided with so much strength you fell to the floor.

“Oh, I’m sor- Y/N?” the voice was familiar and you quickly raised your head to meet this person’s eye.

Sam was staring right at you, with quite an expression on his face that you had never seen before. He quickly kneeled down and helped you remove some hair off your face.

“Are you crying? Did Jake say something to you? Are you fine?” Sam asked nervously, his concern being more evident with each question asked.

You loved him, as he was always keeping an eye on you. You recalled then something that you had been noticing from the younger brother, but you were not in the mood to think about it. As you also weren’t in the mood to answer all that.

“Please, let me go. I don’t wanna be here anymore” you replied with a much lower voice, almost as a whisper.

Sam didn’t hesitate to shut up and help you get up. You shared one more smile before abandoning the building, leaving a very concerned Sam behind you.

As much as you wanted to stay mad, your emotions were too uncontrollable. You wanted to hate Jake so badly, but he had been your true love these past years, and the pain that this break up was causing you was too much to bear. You began feeling like everything had been left inconclusive. After months of staying far away from your now ex - boyfriend, you made up your mind one day to face him one more time and clear the doubts you still had.

But you should have known yourself better. When have you ever let anybody see you weak? You couldn’t, not even with all the strength of your mind, accept that you had lost. For you, you were never in the wrong. And these dark thoughts were resting in the back of your mind the day you decided to face Jake once more.

You had purchased a ticket for his latest concert. As you had planned, you got a position where Jake could see you perfectly. You enjoyed the concert, anyways, as his music had always been your favorite. Within seconds he had seen you, and something in his attitude changed. Was it annoyance? You had no idea, as your own feelings were blurring your eyes and mind.

On stage, Jake’s mind was also distraught. He had no idea why you had been so distant lately, not replying to his messages or never picking up the phone whenever he would call. He remembered the endless nights he spent crying about you with Josh, venting all his problems as his twin seemed to be the only one who could understand him. The memories of the last encounter started replaying inside his head as The Barbarians started playing.

“When the FUCK did I say you ruin my life?”

Jake watched as you hesitated a bit in your place. He knew you well, and was aware you were thinking about your next move. He was expecting a louder yelling back from you, as your arguments would always consist of each one raising the voice after the other. However, you remained silent and only decided to leave him with his new anger alone.

“Oh you’re leaving!?” FINE!” Jake yelled once more, wanting now for you to reply. It was useless, as you were determined to leave in silence.

As you abandoned the room, Jake felt like venting to the air.

“I’M FUCKING SICK OF THIS, WE’RE DONE FIGHTING AND THEN IT’S LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED. WHY CAN’T YOU OPEN UP TO ME!? BABE!?”

Jake could yell for hours but it seemed like he wouldn’t get an answer. Frustration took over him and, in a state of anger, accidentally broke his guitar. He stayed silent then, upon seeing his consequences. A few minutes later, Sam walked inside the room.

“Jake, what’s going on? Why was Y/N crying?” his brother inquired as he tried getting closer.

Jake only giggled sadly, shaking his head.

“Of course she’s crying. She yells at me, closes herself and then cries. I love her so much, why won’t she let me get through her? It’s been years, Sammy, years that this has been happening. I want her to trust me, why won’t she?” the last words luckily came out of his mouth as anguish was now all he could feel, and the knot in his throat wouldn’t let him speak correctly.

Sam gulped before embracing his brother in a hug, unsure of what to do next.

His own words kept replaying inside his head as he constantly glanced over at where you were. The whole scene still felt blurry, like a nightmare that still haunts him every night. Unfortunately for the both of you, you happened to be two very stubborn people, and the possibility of one or the other dropping their stubborness to admit their mistake was zero to none. Jake knew this, and he could sense from the stage that you had come to the venue to hear an apology.

And, as expected, such a thing happened. Hours after the last song was played, Jake found himself waiting for you to finish rambling about how hurt you were about his words. He truly wanted to yell back, but the amount of love he had for you wouldn’t allow him to be such an awful person. He knew that he never spoke the nicest words whenever he would raise his voice. However, this time he was a hundred percent sure he was not the one who should be apologizing.

“I just don’t get how you can let all this happen! What about the love we have for each other, huh? You forgot about it?” you complained, moving your arms around with the ugliest expression on your face.

Jake sighed, rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest as tight as possible.

“I’m not going to apologise for this. Not anymore” Jake said with total peace in his voice, though it was due to pure tiredness. Many times he had put his arms down for you, always wanting the relationship to survive, even if that meant he had to admit to mistakes he hadn’t committed or that he never regretted. But this time, he was tired. It could also mean Josh’s speech had worked. Josh adored you as much as the man next door, but he loved his brother even more, and truly believed he deserved to be mad too.

On the other hand, you were left speechless. He really wasn’t taking back breaking your heart. He stood there staring at you, in a silence that was louder than any word that could be spoken. He was saying nothing, but he was crying out everything with just a silence. It then hit you. This truly was over. He wasn’t willing to work on your relationship, he had given up. And as much as it hurt you, you admitted the defeat.

In the same silence, you left the room, holding in all the tears that were threatening to leave your eyes. You weren’t going to give him the luxury of seeing you cry for him. Jake remained in his place, also swallowing all the emotions so that you would truly understand him. But communication wasn’t working in this relationship, and the lack of it ended up ruining it.

Many months had passed since that one last conversation. It truly was the last time you two had shared a word and it was evident in the atmosphere. It took you some weeks to be able to see anybody in his surroundings again. The first one you encountered was Danny. He was too shy to truly share with you how Jake was feeling. The second one was Josh and he pretended to not see you at the mall. You expected it from Jake’s closest brother. You were sure Josh knew something about you that made him hate you somehow. But it was Sam the one who made you suddenly think twice.

It was a weird encounter, though, but you didn’t exactly hate it. You had spent the last weeks being surrounded by all kinds of people, very nosy people who wanted to know everything about the breakup. Though at first it was comforting, it soon became annoying and it took you a while to be able to push everybody out. Therefore, you decided to go to the cinema alone one night, in search of some peace and entertainment. Such peace was soon disturbed by a very familiar face popping up in between a crowd. The similarity of that face with your own ex - boyfriend’s face was too obvious, and it didn’t take long for the known stranger to approach you.

“Y/N? Hey!” Sam exclaimed with a big smile. You smiled back, remembering how much time you would spend with the younger brother. You hugged him tightly as soon as he was near.

“Hey, Sam. What are you doing here?” you looked around you, a bit of fear showing up. Sam picked it up quickly and shook his head

“I came alone, don’t worry. I can’t be with my brothers for too long” he joked, a bit of a nervous giggle being released right after. You smiled as you sighed, all concerns of seeing Jake again going away.

“I’m here alone too. People get too annoying” you commented, gaining a nod from Sam

“Want me to leave you alone?” he suddenly asked. You frowned at him for a second before shaking your head softly

“You’re not that people, Sammy. I would love to watch the movie with you. Maybe we can share popcorn and snacks”

The smile Sam showed you was so endearing that it made you forget everything for just a few seconds. You instantly followed him inside the theatre and found a couple of empty seats right in the back.

The night continued as normal, though you couldn’t let your guard down. There was something off with Sam. It always was like this, almost since the very first days you’d met him. Like you could feel the atmosphere not being entirely…friendly. However, your mind was always concentrated on Jake to even notice Sam’s actions. But now everything was different and nothing was going unnoticed. Not the way he would suddenly stroke your hand while thinking you were focused on the movie. Or the way his eyes would glance over at you every five seconds. Or how close he would get to whisper the dumbest comment into your ear. You were not dumb; these things were not new and you could tell the intentions behind them in Sam’s eyes. Nevertheless, his company was essential right now and nothing could make you push him away.

You never expected Sam to stick around so much. You would have thought by now that Jake was aware of you two seeing each other and was totally against it. But nothing seemed to demonstrate this. You weren’t complaining, though. You found yourself adoring every second passed with Sam. He had such an outgoing personality that could erase any bad thought from your mind.

But your mind could never rest, not even when Sam was right by your side. So many emotions were taking over you. You were sure by now that you were not ok. The breakup had definitely taken over your body, or else you wouldn’t be thinking of fucking his brother.

But there you were, sitting besides Sam at his apartment as he was writing some lyrics. You were searching around the internet, totally bored, with nothing in your mind. Your concentration was gone hours ago, and now you were suddenly glancing over at Sam’s hands, as you watched them go from his base to the pencil, sometimes going to his lips as he was thinking some words. It was all too much for you, and as you imagined, you weren’t thinking straight.

“God, they’re big” you muttered a bit too loud for your liking, gaining Sam’s attention instantly

“Sorry?” he asked, though he soon caught your stare and noticed how they were landing on his hands. He suddenly turned red and avoided your stare, showing you a small shy smile. “O-oh”

You bit your lip as you watched him reach over to grab his glass of wine and accidentally spilled the content on himself. You giggled while Sam began swearing repeatedly.

“Fuck, what’s wrong with me?” Sam began saying as he struggled to erase the big stain on his shirt.

“You’re fucking it up more, idiot” you laughed while approaching him. You kneeled right by his side, your body evidently stuck to his.

His eyes attempted to look at you, but as soon as he realized your breasts were almost by his face, he quickly looked away. You noticed it but decided to keep it to yourself.

“Let me help you” you said softly.

Sam tried to reject your offer but you were quick to start unbuttoning his shirt. You were close enough to his body to notice the change in his breathing. Once the shirt was off, you left it on a side as you stared at Sam with a smile.

“Y/N, I-” Sam started but cut himself off the second he noticed how your eyes glared down. He swallowed before looking down, knowing his boner had already made an appearance and was ruining the whole atmosphere “I-I can explain…it”

“You don’t need to” you commented back, biting your lip at the sight. You glanced over at his face before continuing “I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking”

The look on Sam’s face was of both horror and embarrassment. He truly had believed he was being sneakily about it. I mean, you had never mentioned it. He had the idea you were oblivious to it or else you would have complained. But you were aware of it, pretty aware of it, and you didn’t seem bothered at all.

As much as he tried, he couldn’t say a word. Nothing was coming up in his mind and he was struggling more than ever. It didn’t help at all that you were now sliding off the couch to kneel in between his legs. Your stare was penetrating his soul and he had never desired you so much before. You tried crawling on top of him but soon his hands stopped you.

“Y/N, I-I can’t do this” he was lying, he knew it damn well. But there was still a little voice inside his head screaming for coherence.

“You can’t or you don’t want to?” you asked while sitting on his lap.

Unconsciously, his hands travelled to your naked legs and began stroking them as his eyes could not leave your face. Your stare was driving him insane, and that little voice was every time quieter.

“You’re…you’re Jake’s girl” was all Sam could say

“I’m my own person, I’m not his or anybody’s” your reply confused Sam a lot, but that voice of coherence suddenly was silent as you took his hands and drove them to your breasts “But tonight I’m yours, I’m only yours”

All threads of sanity were quickly gone inside both of your heads, and within seconds you had Sam kissing you deeply, not waiting a second to take your clothes off.

As fast as both your bodies were naked, sweaty and stuck together, Sam picked you up with ease while making his way to his bedroom. No thoughts were going through your minds, only pure lust and terrible need to get rid of all the tension built inside your bodies.

The next morning felt like you had the biggest hangover ever. Your head was killing you and you could even feel a bit dizzy. It didn’t make sense as you had only drank one glass of wine. But the dense atmosphere was making you struggle to get out of bed. After trying for a while, you came to realization that it wasn’t the atmosphere keeping you down, it was an arm.

Bits of the night before came back to your mind as you turned around and found Sam sleeping peacefully by your side, his arm resting with ease over your waist with his land fallen by your chest. You could only assume he had fallen asleep while grabbing your breast. All this made sense with Sam.

But your mind wasn’t understanding anything. Did you sleep with your ex-boyfriend’s brother? The guy you had befriended years ago? Was this truly happening?

“Are you gonna stare for much longer? I may charge you the minute” the sleepy voice took you off completely, waking up something down there for you. You gasped softly at how good he sounded the next morning, and all feelings of regret soon disappeared

“You’re a beautiful sight when the sun shines bright through the window” you commented, not believing right away that you had just said that

“I’m always a beautiful sight, though” Sam replied, slightly sarcastically, as he slowly opened his eyes only a bit. You laughed softly at his joke and watched him as he got up, resting his body’s weight on his elbow “But you’re an even more beautiful sight”

The gentle touch of his hand on your face as he removed some strands of hair off your face felt more like a slap from reality. These same scenarios used to happen, but with the man you had fallen deeply in love with. And that man wasn’t Sam. It was his brother.

“I gotta go” you murmured, hating yourself as you began getting dressed.

“Regret finally hit you?” his question made you stop midway as you were searching for your blouse

“We fucked and I’m still in love with your brother” your reply wasn’t supposed to sound so harsh, but to your fortune, Sam didn’t seem fazed

“Yesterday you were bashing the poor guy, now you’re in love with him?” Sam was oddly rude, his tone making you now feel a lot more upset than horny

“This isn’t your business” you said, trying to sound as rude but failing

“You made it my business when you rode me last night while screaming my name”

You knew he was right, no matter how much you tried to deny it. After all, it was you the one who jumped on him.

“Do I need to remind you? You said last night you were mine” Sam continued. You weren’t sure exactly where this conversation was going, but you weren’t feeling happy.

“Sam, quit it, ok? This was a one time thing and only because Jake broke my heart” you remarked, continuing searching for your stuff. You hurried your pace to be able to leave the apartment faster.

“How sure are you that you’re not the one who broke his heart?”

That sudden question made you get up quickly, though you avoided his harsh stare on you. No words seemed to fit a proper answer, and the more time you would spend thinking of one, the heavier the atmosphere felt. You decided then that no answer was better than one.

“Goodbye, Sam” you quickly responded before leaving the room, soon then leaving the apartment.

Sam let his body fall back to the bed as he sighed loudly. He truly didn’t want to upset you, and you were unaware of how confused he was. It was understandable, you suddenly falling into his arms as he had always dreamt. But Jake was in the picture, and it didn’t matter how bad your relationship with him was, Jake was still Sam’s brother and that should mean something to the younger brother.

Poor Sam’s mind would not let him rest the following days. His conscience was eating him alive, and it didn’t help that he basically saw Jake all the time. He was the first one to hold Jake as he cried for you, and months later he had fucked his girlfriend. Nothing made sense inside his mind, but thankfully, work was so demanding he soon found himself getting a lot more distracted.

However, distractions are temporary and soon hell was set loose.

One afternoon, the band had decided to film at Sam’s apartment. Some producer had had the idea of doing sketches for fans and Sam’s had to be filmed at his own place. As the band always worked together, all four boys were hanging out at Sam’s apartment as they cleared the kitchen for the cameras.

Everybody was everywhere as Sam cleaned his kitchen counters, the boys making so much noise with their conversations.

“Hey, Sam. Do you have that shirt I lent you the other day? I may use it for my own sketch” Danny asked as he cleaned some knives

“Oh yeah. I think I have it. Go get it” the younger boy replied

“Can you get it for me? My hands are dirty” Danny asked someone.

Sam didn’t pay much attention to who he was talking to as he was too concentrated on the cleaning activity. Suddenly, a loud, angry voice made everybody’s head lift up quickly.

“What the fuck is this!?”

Sam recognized Jake’s voice in an instant. He waited as he could hear steps getting closer. The older brother joined the rest at the kitchen, now holding in his hands a bra.

“Sam. What the fuck is this?” Jake’s voice was now way calmer but not any less angry. The lack of emotion on his face was making Sam enter into panic mode.

“A bra?” Sam replied, trying hard so his voice wouldn’t sound as shaky.

“Whose bra is this?” Josh asked, a sense of fun curiosity in his tone and expression. He seemed, like always, the only one smiling.

“Yeah, Sam. Whose bra is this?” Jake repeated, sounding a lot less fun than Josh. The reiterated question made Josh’s smile vanish.

Sam remained silent. If he answered the question, then everything would be real. As much as he tried, he really couldn’t give an answer. This was enough for Jake who was now grabbing Sam’s phone. He threw it across the counter along with the bra, and both objects landed perfectly in front of the bassist.

“Call her” Jake demanded.

The expression was still unreadable and, with each second passed, Sam’s panic was growing intensely. He didn’t hesitate to obey.

You picked up the phone with your head in the clouds, barely even checking who was calling.

“Hello?”

“Please come to my place. You forgot something” Sam was completely monotone, which confunded you a lot.

With nothing else being said, and with no time to reply, Sam hung up. All throughout the call, his eyes were nailed on Jake’s, though it was more like the other way around. Jake’s fury was all over the place and still Danny and Josh were oblivious to everything. They could tell there was something going on but they couldn’t figure out exactly what.

All the answers to their doubts and questions showed up the second the door rang and you walked in, after Sam exclaimed it was open.

Your face dropped to the floor when you realized what was going on. It was confusing at first, but the sight of Jake holding your bra in front of your face was enough sign for you to read the room. You gulped as he made his way to you.

“Excuse me, hi. Nice to see you, after, I don’t know, four months? Or was it six? Fuck, I don’t even recall!” Jake’s sarcastic tone was painful more than funny

“Six months and two weeks” you replied dry

“Oh, look at her! She even counted the weeks!” Jake yelled, still sarcastically

“What are you doing here?” you could only seem to ask

“No, I got a better one, babe” Jake lifted a finger as he spoke, an devilish smile on his face “Why the fuck is your bra at Samuel’s room? Mmhm?”

All eyes, except for Jake’s, went straight to Sam. The tall boy was pale as fuck and he swallowed hard as he made short eye contact with everybody, starting and ending with you.

“No, no, don’t look at him darling” Jake suddenly spoke, making you stare back at him. “Answer me.”

You swallowed too, taking a deep breath before answering.

“Why do you ask something that you already have the answer for?” like always, you couldn’t let him see you weak. No matter how many years had passed, you still hated being vulnerable around him.

“I see” was his only answer for a while.

The sharp movement of his arm throwing the bra across the room made everybody jump in their places.

“I just can’t get you, Y/N! I can never get you! Do you love me? Do you hate me? Do you want me to hate you? Is that what you’re doing? Trying to make me hate you?”

“I thought you already did” you replied quickly, the wounds of your breakup feeling fresh again

“How could I ever fucking hate you!? I’m fucking in love with you, for the love of God!” Jake yelled back, his voice raising with each word.

“Then why would you break up with me!?” You could only think of matching his tone.

However, you weren’t expecting his expression. His eyes widened and his mouth opened and closed several times before he could speak.

“What fucking break up are you talking about!? We’re still together!”

What?

Did he just…? Did he never…?

“What are you talking about?” you murmured, your expression being quite the opposite as his.

Then it hit him.

“Oh my god” was all he could say, reality punching him really hard to the point that he just couldn’t talk. He covered his mouth in shock as he walked around.

You copied him subconsciously, as it also hit you right there.

You had cheated on the love of your life with his own brother.

this ended up being so long i had to create a whole ass fic for it lmaoo hope this reached your expectations! thanks for requesting and thanks for reading! <3

#greta van fleet #gvf #.gvftxt #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet angst #jake kiszka #sam kiszka #sam kiszka x reader #jake kiszka x reader #sam kiszka fic #jake kiszka fic #sam kiszka smut

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taechaos · 3 years

Text

New Idea

pairing: Step-brother!Taehyung x Fem!Reader

warnings: non-con, bondage, pseudo-incest, sadism, smut, mentions of killing

synopsis: You wished to hang out with your brother Taehyung when he wasn't home, only to realize he was better off staying away.

word count: 3.2k

It was late at night. Rain flooded outside, drops trickled down your window and puddles formed on the roads as they reflected the neon lit storefront signs beautifully. The tears from the clouds splashed against the cement loudly, and you watched the empty streets in boredom. With your cheek leaning on your palm, elbow propped up on the round wooden table across your window, you miserably yearned to feel some sort of sugar rush with a deep frown on your face. Things have been mundane, repeating the same old routines as days quickly went by. You wondered what Taehyung had been up to in the time that he’d been gone. You knew he could resolve your boredom instantly had he been right beside you.

Taehyung – your step-brother who was the embodiment of adrenaline, and was most likely awake with you right now. The man never slept, always staying up at night brainstorming ideas for what to do during the day that was no doubt just as exciting as the day before. Bags adorned his eyes that somehow fit his wild persona that never needed asking for permission to do things that were illegal most of the time. It was especially daring when having strict parents, and the only reason he wasn’t locked up in a mental institution was because he was the pride of your family with excelling grades in college that he rarely ever attended. They never approved of anything he’d done, especially not the teal hair he was currently rocking. You on the other hand, looked up to him as a role model.

What you’d do to see him right now. Sometimes he tagged you along with his adventures, such as exploring abandoned buildings and getting matching tattoos on your forearms that he chose. Despite the rebellious acts he put you through, he always defended you against your parents and got away with everything with a light scolding from his smooth tongue. Admiration wouldn’t begin to describe the amount of respect you had for him, though he was rarely ever around. Unbeknownst to you however, he never failed to go a day without pecking your cheek while you were unconscious.

He was everything you aspired to be: a carefree soul with a creative mind and a heart filled with exhilaration. The only thing he hadn’t done was probably murder. It was a shame that absence made the heart grow fonder, because throughout the time you’d known him since your early teens, he hadn’t changed one bit with his disappearances that could go on for days.

Taehyung never changed.

Was this what they called depression? Feeling numb and hating your life for how ordinary it was? You didn’t know, but what you knew was that you really needed Taehyung right now. It was 3AM and your parents were sound asleep in the apartment while you moped over how much you missed your step-brother’s presence. Not a single moment was dull with him, while you were too much of a coward to go through with any of your desires.

And as if your prayers were answered, a pound came on the door. The loud knock instantly gave away the person behind the door; Taehyung, who never cared for how loud he was unless he was on a stealthy mission.

Your heart skipped a beat as the door swung open and the silhouette of your step-brother entered before it was slammed shut with a lock. “You’re awake?” he asked in a whisper without moving an inch when he noticed your seated form.

“Can’t sleep,” you breathed, unable to hide the joy you felt upon seeing him in your tone. He couldn’t have picked a better time to visit you.

“Why not?” he walked over to you before kneeling. There was a smile on his face that matched yours, instantly giving away he came to your room with purpose. It was expected, for he never approached you if not to tell you about one of his newer ideas.

“Was bored.”

“So was I,” a mischievous smirk graced his face. The street lights outside illuminated his messy hair that your hand itched to ruffle. “But I found us a solution.”

Your eyes gleamed with hope, your grin never faltering. “Tell me,” you impatiently urged, your knees already bouncing up and down with excitement.

“I’ll give you a hint: we’ll both be having fun. But you need to listen to me,” he cautioned with a raised finger. You nodded frantically, willing to do whatever he needed you to do. “Okay, stand up.”

You obeyed him and only then noticed the bag slung over his shoulder once you stood before him. “Let me do all the work, yeah? You just stand still.”

“I really want to know what it is,” you whined and bounced on your feet.

Taehyung held onto your tits that bounced with you and you quietly gasped. “Better not be acting like this with anyone other than me. Naughty,” he scolded before unzipping his small pouch.

“I don’t go out without a bra,” you rolled your eyes playfully. Taehyung was notorious for doing and saying things without a filter, uncaring of the effect it had on others. This was simply him looking after you without any boundaries, because he never set any with you.

He pulled out a duct tape from the mystery bag. “Turn around and hold your hands behind you.” You complied without protest, the ripping of a duct tape resounding in the room as he tore it with his teeth. He taped your wrists together like cuffs before facing you again by the pull of your shoulder.

Confusion washed over you, but not a trace of fear. “What’s this about?”

“Now go lie down,” he ignored you and nodded at your bed. You sat on the center, your sheets already rumpled from all the tossing and turning you’d done in an attempt to sleep. His figure loomed over you and your heart raced in anticipation. “Don’t move, okay?”

You silently watched him with piqued curiosity as he pushed you down. The soft mattress dipped under your weight and you didn’t move a muscle until you felt him tug at your flannel pajama pants. “Taehyung? What are you doing?”

“Just trust me,” he ignored you again and you furrowed your brows as he undressed you. “You’re going to like it.”

Without a single clue of his intentions, you expected him to change your pants after he took them off, but definitely didn’t expect him to aim at your panties next. The second he held onto the hems, you crawled away from him and repeated more firmly, “Taehyung, what are you doing?”

He yanked you back to him by your ankles. “Don’t you trust me? You said you’d listen to me.”

“I don’t think I want to do this,” you strained and tried to pull your knees to your chest, but he tightened his grip on your ankles.

“It’ll be fun, just sit still,” he spoke airily, his tone unbothered compared to your worried one. “I would never do anything to hurt you.”

Once you felt somewhat reassured, you relaxed your legs and lied back down. The discomfort swallowed you whole when he undressed your bottom half completely. The chilly air hit your bare legs and left goosebumps in its wake.

“You shouldn’t be shy about being naked with me,” he chuckled and tapped your pussy carelessly. You yelped and bent your knees again.

“Taehyung, this isn’t right,” you stressed and clenched your thighs together. You were growing wary about this ‘idea’ and you weren’t sure whether his pupils were dilated because of the dark anymore. He could be high. “Let’s try something else, please.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he scoffed and spread your thighs apart, hovering over your loins. “You’re going to love this, just calm it.” He grabbed the duct tape again and tore off a smaller piece before placing it on your mouth, making your efforts of leaning away fruitless. Your voice was muffled behind the sticky tape as you shook your head. “Don’t make me tape your legs too,” he warned as you tried pushing him away. He sat on your knees as he began unzipping his washed denim jeans, ignoring your babbling.

“Been watching a lot of porn lately,” he began casually as tears brimmed in your eyes. “I usually find it boring, but I came across a video that I couldn’t resist reenacting. Plus you were bored too,” he defended, “it’d be mean if I spared my little sister of this fun.”

You didn’t know whether he was joking or not, but you were ready to start crying if he was actually doing what you were thinking. You sighed in relief when he reached for his pouch for a pair of scissors. It had to be a joke then–

Taehyung began cutting your shirt from the middle, and you whimpered when your tits were on full display. Your nipples hardened as a result of the exposure, and tears immediately began streaming down your face mixed with muffled sobs.

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad,” he exclaimed, “we’re not related by blood. It should be fine.”

When you continued crying, he said, “I’ll take off my shirt too, if it helps.” He heaved his t-shirt over his head, his firm chest hard to make out in the midnight dark. “I was thinking kissing would ease you into it, but only if you’re quiet.” Your cries grew louder instead. He sighed exasperatedly, “You can be such a crybaby sometimes.”

He started leaving open-mouthed kisses on your neck, and you whimpered at the feeling. You were ticklish and though you were completely terrified, the kisses were a bit soothing. “This is me being nice to you, because oh boy, that guy in the video was a fucking monster,” he laughed while going down the valley between your breasts. A finger flicked your nipple while his other hand rubbed over your folds. “Want me to eat you out first? You’re not wet enough.”

You shook your head in refusal, so he merely shrugged and began circling your clit instead, his fingers now pinching your nipple. His mouth latched onto your other nipple and he swirled his tongue around the areola, clashing pleasure with pain. The rain drowned out your involuntary moans but Taehyung caught them anyway; it wasn’t hard to miss when your arousal began coating his hand. He released your nipple with a pop and locked eyes with you. “You’re enjoying this? Not gonna lie, I was expecting you to cry longer but... you're a little slutty, aren't you?” He slapped your pussy experimentally and smiled when you moaned loudly. “Keep this up and I might just take off the tape.”

For a moment, he wondered if this was why people enjoyed sex so much; your moans were like music to his ears and your body was making his cock throb even more. He could really get used to this, he thought as he slapped your pussy over and over, the sound echoing in the room along with your high-pitched whines.

“Shit, I need to record this,” he mumbled before reaching for his phone on his back pocket. Your protests went to deaf ears as he began recording your pussy and spanked it, the microphone picking up all your sounds of pleasure. Once it reached the one-minute mark, he threw his phone on your pillow and took out his erect length from its restraints, giving it a few pumps as the tip oozed with pre-cum. “I never thought fucking you would be this easy. Thought about it every time I touched myself.”

You went quiet at the revelation and he smirked at your raised brows. “Why are you surprised? Whenever I’m home, you come hug me with your bare tits pressed up against me. Not that I’m complaining of course,” he chuckled hotly. “Want me to kiss you now?”

When you didn’t respond quickly enough, he ripped the tape off of your mouth without mercy and your eyes teared up at the pain with an ouch. He didn’t waste a second in enveloping his lips with yours as he cupped your pussy, smearing his pre-cum on your labia. He swallowed your moans as his mouth moved vigorously, tongue meeting yours as he explored your cavern. The smacking of your lips caused you to clench your hole, the sound arousing to your ears as you kissed him back.

“You going to stay quiet for me?” he murmured against your lips, his cock poking at your hole teasingly. You hesitated but nodded nonetheless. “Good girl,” he praised with a grin and lightly pecked you before properly positioning himself.

The reason why Taehyung was so eager to have sex with you wasn’t just because he was horny, but also because really wanted it to be your pussy that he fucked first, and maybe second, and third. He was a virgin who watched too much porn when he wasn’t outside, and now that you were 18, he thought it to be the perfect timing for you to lose your virginity to him like he’d imagined when he was 15.

Due to his experience, he didn’t ease into your pussy and instead shoved his cock entirely. You screamed and he instantly put a hand over your mouth. “Too much?” he asked with a strained voice. His cock was just begging to be thrusted into you, but he couldn’t have you screaming and waking your parents. When you nodded with eyes shut in pain, he groaned to himself. He was twitching inside you, and after a few seconds, he began moving.

You were crying and bitching again, but he paid no mind to it as he pressed his hand onto your mouth while gently slamming his hips into you, his courtesy for now. You'd adjust sooner or later, but the stretch was excruciating; your walls stung and you started to bleed on him.

"Oh fuck," he giggled sadistically once he noticed the crimson fluid, "that didn't happen in the video." He gazed into your glossy eyes before quickening his pace, growing rougher. "You're crying again; what's new?"

Taehyung was laughing as he was moaning, but you couldn’t hear anything except for the ringing in your ears. Your heart pounded and you were struggling to breathe through your nose as he fucked you relentlessly.

“I kind of feel bad for you,” he panted with a sinister smile. “Does it still hurt?” He took your sobs as a yes. “Poor baby,” he cooed with a pout before moving his free hand to your clit. “This might help.” You were struggling with your bound hands, but you couldn’t move your legs because of how much it hurt. Your fighting was useless, and your body was growing numb except for the thumb that made it less painful.

Taehyung removed his hand from your mouth to hear your moans clearly. Whether it was from pleasure or pain, he didn’t know, but he loved it. He wanted to be the only one to see you in this state. He’d gauge out any eyes that got to see you naked and stab any ears that got to hear your pretty sounds.

But it was a little difficult to savour it when he was reaching his climax so soon; damn inexperience and the low stamina that came with. He had enough self-control to pull out of you to finish himself off with his hand. He missed the warmth and tightness of your pussy and how it kept clenching down on him quickly, but it had to come at a cost – not cumming inside you.

“You fucking monster!” you yelled hoarsely, eyes blurred with tears and face covered in tears.

“Too loud,” he sighed and forced your mouth open to shove his length inside. “Try anything, and I’ll fucking kill you.” His cock was heavy on your tongue as you gagged on it every time he thrusted. It wasn’t long before he released in your mouth and you choked, swallowing his cum without a choice. Another loud moan erupted from him as his hips stuttered while gently slamming into you for the last time.

“Fuck,” he exhaled before collapsing on you with his palms holding up to not smother you completely. “Shit, you’re such a good fucking girl.”

When he raised his face from your shoulder, you spat on him. He laughed hysterically before wiping off your saliva from his cheek. “I’ll make it up to you, damn.”

“You’re the fucking worst Taehyung,” your voice wavered as you insulted him. “I hope you rot in hell. I always saw you as my role model, but now I understand why everyone fucking hates you.”

“Sheesh,” he snorted, “I told you I’d make it up to you, didn’t I? It might hurt now, but it’ll feel a lot better when we do it again.”

“If you try-” he cut you off by going down on you, taking his clit into your mouth and immediately emitting a moan out of you. “Stop, stop, stop,” you chanted in gasps, trapping his head with your thighs and contradicting your words. He chuckled against your swollen pussy, making it feel even better and yet worse. This euphoric sensation wasn’t what you needed after being traumatized by your own step-brother, but it was what your body wanted after getting a taste of his tongue.

He was slurping up your juices and spitting on your folds before abusing your clit again. The bastard knew how to distract you from your newfound grudge, but you weren’t going to forgive him after your orgasm. Your hips moved against him on instinct as his tongue ran up and down your labia. A knot formed in your stomach, your tears long forgotten as you became more persistent in riding him in this awkward position. He heaved your thighs over his shoulder to take full control, and with his vigorous sucking and pulling, you came undone with a spasm.

“Feels good, right?” he asked rhetorically and fell limp next to you.

“I’ve never hated someone as much as you,” you seethed while recovering from your high.

“You’re going to tell me that wasn’t fun? No way,” he stared at you in disbelief.

“You hurt me,” you sniffled and covered your face.

"I'm sorry princess," the nickname felt foreign on his tongue as he held your arm. "I'll leave forever if you want me to."

He hummed when you stayed silent with a runny nose. "I'll clean you up and go, okay?"

"No," you huffed. "You become my slave for a whole month."

"You want me to stay home with you?"

You nodded while rubbing your eyes with your fists. "You can't do that and just leave, and I hate you but I miss you."

Taehyung resisted the urge to squeeze your cheek and coo. He knew you'd regret asking him to stay, but he wouldn't say no to spending time with you 24/7.

Chuckling through his nose, he said, "I miss you too." He traced the tattoo on your forearm, a minimalistic mockingbird with an arrow slicing through the middle. He picked it because it represented you; an innocent little thing who didn't even look down at her wound, only focused on flying back to Taehyung, a hawk that waited with open arms - ready for his meal.

If you wanted him to stay, then that's what Taehyung would do. You'd fallen for his trap twice, the third wouldn't be so bad. He'd make sure you enjoyed it this time.

#bts #kim taehyung #bts x reader #taehyung x reader #kth #thekpopnetwork #taehyung smut #bts smut #bts imagines #bts scenarios

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nincompoopydoo · 3 years

Note

Could I request a oneshot with Remus Lupin with the promt "kiss me so i can feel alive again". Also congratulations on 1000 followers 🎉✨💕

ALIVE AND TRUE

PAIRING: Remus Lupin x reader WORD COUNT: 2k (whoops) SUMMARY: Having found a lost friend, living in the countryside of Yorkshire, feelings of once hidden affection start to bloom in the need to be alive and good things to be real. A/N: Thank you for requesting and I’m so sorry for taking so long! This is one of my favorites because it’s so soft and romantic and I adore this request. Please tell me what you think of it xo. WARNINGS: Angst. support my writing through ko-fi💖 MASTERLIST

It’s the house you see from trudging down the walkway that forces you to double take your previous steps. Silent and empty, it seems to twist into the forest from afar. Bent trees adorn the lane with overgrown greenery at its feet and ancient brick walls that run along with it. The fields in Yorkshire are vast and immaculate but right now, you are alone and suddenly the far stretch of land doesn’t seem to have the shine of the countryside. Your eyes shift to the house that sits behind a rusted gate, joints barely holding together from the years of rotting and exposure to the heat and rain. It’s barely a house but more of a cottage. No, it’s not even a cottage. Semi-derelict and tumbledown, it looks more like the ruins of what used to be a home.

You look down to the note in your hand, parchment torn at the edges with the cursive words of your handwriting that make up an address and coordinates. Visually, there’s no indication of where exactly you are but according to the coordinates, you are precisely where you need to be. For the past three years, your investigation into finding your friend has proven to be impossible and almost met with the acceptance that you will never see him again. Yet, after an anonymous tip had been owled to your doorstep, indicating the suspicions of the presence of a werewolf somewhere in Yorkshire as overheard by the locals of a nearby town, gave you a tinge of hope to reconnect with someone you lost.

The sight bears a high chance that he may be hiding here, unfortunately. It makes it hard to believe that someone you saw had so much life in him, is living in this condition.

Anxiety starts to creep onto you as you push the worn-down gate. It creaks with the rustling of the wind, a sign of an imminent storm. The sun doesn’t shine anymore, clouds of grey congregate in the skies above in the chorus of rainfall. You don’t do too well with apparition, thankfully having only lost half of your hair during the war. Hence, if the anonymous tip turns out to be a fake, you would have to make your way out of the countryside in the rain or even worse, take the Knight Bus.

You hate the Knight Bus.

Attempting to conjure up whatever courage you have left, you steadily make your way into the compound, plodding through the overgrown grass. As you grow closer, the cottage looks even worse than it was from afar, climbing plants of dull green embellish the walls of the ruins.

Then, in your periphery, you catch a glimpse of violet—Bluebells. The same flowers that used to grow on the forest floor of the forbidden forest. You remember him telling you about how he had seen a white bluebell, rare to its nature.

Warmth fills your chest, you know he is here.

The door is wooden, climbing plants seem to have made their way to it, branching around its handle.

You knock once. No answer.

You knock twice. There’s footsteps, they’re heavy.

With the swing of the door, you are met with none other than Remus Lupin. He looks older, dark circles below his eyes that have lost their intensity of blue, hair unkempt and shabby, and a beard, tracing along his jawline. He has his wand directed to you in defense. Probably because no one ever visits.

The smile on your face is impossible to suppress. It's bright at the recognition of the familiarity of his face. “Remus,” you breathe, eyes crinkling and gleaming with the bliss from the effort and worth of your investigation to find this very man, who stands just a couple of inches away from you. You swallow, not wanting to blink away the possibility that this may all be a dream. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

He says your name through a whisper like it’s the answer to the millions of prayers recited and uttered from his lips as he drifts off to slumber under the moonshine, beaming through the shattered glass of the windows by his bedside. He dreams of you, often in times when his body is too weak to endure the aftermath of a full moon.

Yet, you're here and very real.

Then, he watches your grin falter and how your eyes move around the curves of his face. The deep cuts are there and visible. Although magic heals, time and energy play a crucial factor in healing wounds. In an instant, his apprehension creeps in, and suddenly, he feels small. The memories of you are forever intertwined with the rest of his friends, memories too painful to endure.

Your hand reaches out for his face but he staggers back in his step.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

He doesn’t mean it. Remus really wants you here. To feel your warmth, your touch, the smell of your hair and to hold you but he sees the way you bring your arm down to your side, shoulders slump in near defeat. In reality, you would never let him go that easily.

“Don’t say that, Remus.”

The crinkle of your eyes is gone, now sharp with the frustration of his tendency of locking himself away from the world out of paranoia. It’s been a minute since you’ve seen his face after three long years and he’s already trying to chase you away.

Typical Remus.

An odd sense of nausea takes over him, knees buckling as his surroundings begin to spin like he is on a sailing boat at sea. His body is frail and with a blow, he will fall. His eyes are trained on you as he feels his feet give way and his body drifting towards the ground. Just then, he feels your touch, arms around him like an embrace. You’re holding him in his weakened stance, stabilizing his balance by moving his arm to hang around your shoulder. He immediately shifts his weight on you, uttering a soft apology.

“You don’t have to apologize for something you can't control.” Your voice is soothing, speaking so close to his ear. Your tone is laced with knowing and care. You both know those words have been articulated from your very lips many times before. And your hands are gentle upon the curve of his waist, against the rough material of a dress shirt but your grasp is strong—the true touch of a healer’s hands, precise and careful. Remus always knew you would turn to become a highly-skilled healer.

With every cautious step, the creaks of the parquet flooring are loud and lasting. It’s as if the house itself cries for its condition, like a child with a wound to their knee after taking a nasty fall. The wailing wind outside doesn’t help with the fact that everything seems to be falling apart.

You guide him to the armchair by the fireplace, pressing him by the shoulders to sit. He plops onto the chair with a heavy sigh and feels a sense of regret sinking in his chest at the sight of the visible scowl of your lips and the turn of your brows.

Your open palm finds his cheek. He hears the drag of your deep exhale. You don’t say anything, only to pull out your wand from your back pocket. Yet, Remus is quick to grab your hand, halting you in your movement. Your frown a little deeper, sharp eyes finding him.

“Just let me heal you. It’s the least I can do.”

It’s a promise, a vow, uttered from your very lips filled with dignity and hope. So, he lets you, just to feel you close to him.

—

The rain is yet to arrive. Thunder booming through rolling clouds above and still not a single drop of rain but there’s a peak of sunlight between the cracks of the storm. Maybe, it’s because you’re here and sunshine always seems to trail your steps, no matter where they lead.

Now, Remus is seated on the toilet seat facing you, who has settled for a shaky stool to perch on as your gentle hands hold the edge of his jaw while the other grips onto a straight razor, gazing along the cheek. He cannot take his eyes off the crease between your brows and the way your eyes slowly shift along with the moving blade.

Magic is meant for convenience in small but necessary tasks like these yet you insisted on doing it in the traditional muggle way—using your fingers. Your hands work wonders, beautifully moving as a paraclete. You hold him like you’re maintaining his strength, to keep from fracturing into pieces. You look at him like he’s your masterpiece, carving every curve and bend of his skin and structure.

You lift the blade away from his face, dabbing it onto a rag cloth hung by the sink. Remus finally finds the time to speak. “You don’t have to do this.” You simply laugh and it comes out like a puff of air. Your eyes are still trained on cleaning off the razor. “Of course, I don’t. But, I also don’t want you competing with Dumbledore’s beard.”

Remus laughs, truly laughs. It’s loud and echoes within the walls of the tiny toilet. “I could never beat him.” You’re laughing too, grin wide as ever. Then, after a beat of silence, your grin suppresses into a small smile, lips pressed together as you place the razor aside. You’re clearly in deep thought.

“Come away with me.”

Remus blinks. “What?”

You turned to him, eyes glinting with expectancy. “Stay with me. I live a few blocks from St Mungos...and you get to see me at work.” You watch how his mouth is now agape, half of his chin still in shaving cream.

“And I’m sure you look magnificent in green but you know I can’t—”

“You can, Remus. You can come here a week before the full moon and then come back to my place. I’ll help you heal, a lot faster and you know that’s true. Maybe, I could get hold of aconite for Wolfsbane at the hospital— ”

You hadn’t realized your rambling until Remus began to shake you by the shoulders, calling out your name with an odd sense of serenity and hint of urgency for you to stop. So, your words immediately halt with a turn of your head to meet his gaze. Your expression is soft. His hand drifts to yours, holding it in his. “You know I can’t because if they find out you are living with someone with lycanthropy, you will lose your job and I don’t want you to lose it for my sake,” he squeezes your hand with assurance. “But, thank you. Thank you for always being so kind to me.”

The candle flickers from behind you, sitting idly on the ceramic shelf above the sink. No sunlight beaming through the room and only the hues of flame, beginning to shrink with the melting of its wax. Your hair presents an illusion of golden threads against the candlelight, face as warm as your hand on his as you shift your fingers to the back of his palm. Gradually, you sigh whilst raising his palm to you and press your lips to the arch of his hand. It’s quick but affectionate.

Your stare is strong and his heart stutters for the millionth time since your arrival.

Remus is drawn to you and the thought of how your lips should be on his. He drifts closer, eyes roaming your face, feeling your breath against his skin.

“Can I kiss you?” your question is soft, a whisper, only for his ears. A secret so sacred that you’re afraid nature would hear the words of your confession that was solely reserved for your mind and the man you are confessing to. He nods, it’s slight but it’s true, feeling like this is all a dream. He doesn’t want you to dream anymore. For you are here, hand tangled in his, thinking about his lips on yours.

Then, he whispers as the candle flickers once more. “Kiss me so I can feel alive again.”

So, you do. You kiss him, gentle and sweet, your hand still in his.

#happy 1000!#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin x you #remus lupin imagine #the marauders #marauders #harry potter #harry potter imagine #marauders x you #marauders imagine

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