#and then I disappeared for another 20 years

[uncookedfeeler]

CITRUS I🍋

Yuna x Reader

Tags : 4k, light smut, incest,

Part 2??

Parenting is one of life's most transformative experiences. It is a journey filled with joy, growth, challenges and the commitment to raise and guide another human being. From the moment a child is born into the world, parents find themselves on a rollercoaster ride of endless new experiences, emotional highs and lows, and unwavering love.

Parents are caregivers, teachers and coaches, constantly trying to decipher their child's needs and feelings. While the joys of parenting are many, the challenges can be daunting. From sleepless nights with a newborn to the complexities of teenage rebellion, each stage of a child's development brings its own set of hurdles.

After more than fifty years on this planet, half of them with your wife, you're lucky enough to have a 20-year-old girl as your child. From day one she has been the ray of sunshine that lights up your life. She is the person you love most and will remain your most precious treasure until your last breath. But your relationship has changed a lot over the years. Your little princess has gone from being Daddy's little girl to a gorgeous woman who has been driving a wedge between you since she was a teenager. 

This distance has increased since she became a famous idol and now lives between the dormitory and your house, although she only stays when she wants to. 

As usual, you come home from work late in the evening and enter the lock code to get into your house. Unlike before, the lights are still out and the house is deserted. You leave your keys on the hall stand and walk into the living room, closing the SAS door behind you.

You sigh as you walk through the living room to your bedroom, the room a bit messy with some of your dirty clothes from the night before still on the tripod, you sit down on your bed to remove your tie and finally free your neck, your suit disappears and you put on more relaxed clothes. At the same time, your phone rings and you see the name of one of your colleagues on the display:

"Sorry to call so late, hope I'm not disturbing you?" says a soft voice at the other end of the line.

"Not at all, Mrs Bae, I just got home, what can I do for you?" you reply, laughing.

"The CEO wants to see you in his office tomorrow, he came by earlier but you already left, he said he wants to talk about the last contract you secured". 

"Ahahah, the old man already knows it seems, ok ok, noted I'll meet him tomorrow, have a good night Ms.Bae".

"You too, Director"

You put your phone on the bed before returning to the kitchen to prepare your meal and pour yourself a well-deserved beer. With your face still in the fridge, you hear the front door open and a familiar voice echo through the room with a simple "I'm home, I'm tired! "

You immediately know who it is and reply, "Welcome my darling, good to see you home, how was your day, are you hungry?"

Without answering, you see a young woman with red hair jumping onto the sofa. 

"Yuna, please take off your shoes before entering the house, and at least take off your jacket, it's quite warm in the house," you begin to reproach your only child.

"Daddy, please don't start, I've already lost my mind today with the girls, leave me alone!" the young woman cries in obvious annoyance.

The routine is back and you make the effort to take off her shoes while she is lying on her stomach on the sofa, you notice her outfit for the day, a black leather jacket hiding a nice white t-shirt and beige trousers, so you take the opportunity to complicate your princess. 

"That's a nice outfit, darling."

"Thank you," she replies, blushing.

You put the shoes down in the hallway next to yours and see her already absorbed in her phone, so you try to get the conversation going again:

"What happened to make my little Yuna so upset?" you say.

"I'm not 13 anymore, Dad, you can call me by my first name".

"Ah ah, sorry, Yuna".

"Those bitches stole my concept for the shoot, we had to choose a fruit and we had matching colour outfits, during the pre-shoot meeting we agreed and as luck would have it today they used their "maknae shoot last" rule and took my fruit!!! "

"Please don't shout, so what happened after that?" you try to calm her down.

"What do you think, I got to the shoot and all that was left were shitty concepts, seriously, who the fuck thinks it's sexy to have a lemon in the middle of a t-shirt, they're going to laugh so hard at me for the pictures, I'm so ashamed, I left right after the shoot," she says as she stands up and faces you.

You can see the sadness in her eyes and you want to hug her and tell her that everything will be fine, but now that she's looking at you, you realise that she probably forgot to take off the famous shirt and with great regret you put a big smile on your face, almost on the verge of tears.

"No, darling, I'm sure it's a great shirt," you reply with difficulty.

"PAPA!!!, WHY ARE YOU SNIGGERING?" the young idol cries before following your eyes to her T-shirt, her face falling as she finally realises the reason, you're so sorry, but the situation is really too funny.

As you wipe your eyes you see your princess's blood red eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks and she slaps you hard in the face "I FUCKING HATE YOU, JUST FUCKING DIE YOU AND MOM" before running into her room, 

For the second time in your life you feel that pain, the pain you feel when you hurt someone you love, just like your wife did 7 years ago. 

The pain on your cheek is almost non-existent, unlike the pain in your heart. You admit that Yuna has become very withdrawn since your wife's departure, and that your clumsiness with her has hurt her before, but never to this extent.

On the one hand, your authority has been challenged once again, and for the first time she's dared to raise a hand to you. On the other hand, there is a deep sadness that hurts you, but also makes you deeply regret your actions.

You hear your daughter's cries through the door and, with a feeble step, you knock on the door before entering.

"Baby....i'm so sorry" you see her lying on her bed, her head in her pillow, her crying stops when she raises her head and looks at you, her face is turned upside down, her make-up has run down her face. Seeing your child like that tears your heart out, even though you're responsible.

"Just go, just go like Mum, you don't even like me, do you? I'm ashamed of you, go and die," she said in a cold, mean tone.

"Baby... "Hearing these words from your little princess hurts and brings tears to your eyes, so you get down on your knees to continue your apology.

"Forgive me," you tell her as your tears begin to fall, Yuna continues to reject you and her words only drive nails into your feelings, you've surely done the irreparable and you decide to get up and leave her room.

You have ruined your last family relationship with the person who meant the most to you. 

"I'll bring you dinner later, just rest," you say in an emotionless tone as you grab the door handle to leave.

Your steps towards the living room are slow and your body heavy, only to suddenly hear someone running behind you, the door slamming against the wall, and feel your sweet daughter's body against your back as she tries to wrap her arms around you.

"PLEASE, DON'T LEAVE ME SORRY," the red one cries with all her hot tears.

You drop to your knees and take your only child in your arms and hold her close, her head is under your chin as she buries herself in your neck, you stroke her head with one hand while the other pats her back, her arms struggle to wrap around your waist but she clings tightly to you.

"I'm sorry darling, I'm sorry for everything, just let it go now, Daddy's here, I won't leave you, ever"

"Daddy, I'm sorry, I love you"

"I love you too, sweetheart"

You stay like this for many minutes before you plant a loving kiss on her forehead, a sign of your unconditional love for her. She's your treasure and the most important woman in your life.

Yuna's red eyes shine into yours and the young idol plants her lips on yours, the sensation is sweet and pleasant, you are morally in a dilemma, never in a million years would you have imagined kissing your daughter like this, but on the other hand you tell yourself that she's probably had too much rejection for today and is just trying to express her love for me. 

You allow your daughter to express her desires and she wraps her arms around your neck as you hold her kiss, her tongue meets yours in a first dance, the heat in the corridor rises as her body crashes against yours, you feel her small breasts against your chest and her perfume floods your nostrils.

"Yu..na," you try to stop her, tapping her shoulder as she literally tries to eat your lips.

The young idol slowly pulls back, leaving a trickle of drool between your two mouths. You see an incredibly sexy woman, her hair a mess, her breathing heavy and hot, her hands on your chest burning and her eyes devouring you like a hungry tigress.

"The redhead doesn't know what to say when she realises what she's done, her face turning scarlet as she rests her forehead on your shoulder.

"Don't worry, it's not your fault, are you tired?

She nods as you carry her to her room and tuck her into bed, one last kiss before sending your little princess off to dreamland.

"Good night, baby," you say to her as she seems to have gone far away.

.

.

.

The night was harder than expected, and after a light dinner you went to bed with your head still full of the events of the evening, a flurry of emotions running through your body and mind, and faster than you could have imagined, the morning light appeared through your window.

It's almost 7am and you're getting ready for a long day. As soon as you wake up, your body starts to show its age and it takes you a long time to get dressed and get out of your room and into the kitchen. You decide on a quick, simple breakfast of fried egg and rice, and with this morning's appointment, you'll be ready to go in no time, having filled up on vitamins for the day despite your fatigue. As you prepare this, you hear Yuna's bedroom door open and see your daughter come into the kitchen, still wearing her white T-shirt, but her beige trousers have been replaced by blue shorts.

"Morning dad," she says shyly.

"Hi honey, no schedule today?"

"Not this morning," she replies quickly, shaking her head.

Neither of you seem comfortable with the conversation and you do your best to avoid meeting her gaze and vice versa. You discreetly exchange glances and smiles, the redhead in front of you is beautiful and you find yourself ogling her.

You continue to prepare breakfast, making sure you have enough for your daughter. The only exchange you've had since is asking her if she wants a coffee, which she refuses. You see her hovering around the table as if she wants to talk, then she finally gets up and goes behind your back to the fridge.

Then you look back over your shoulder, feel Yuna's embrace around your waist as she buries her face in your back, feel the warmth of her breath again and put your hands on hers.

"Are you all right, darling?"

"I'm sorry dad, my head has been on fire since yesterday, my body has been on fire since I saw you this morning, I just wanted to tell you that I love you very much," she answers as she places kisses on your spine.

You feel the tenderness of her lips on your skin as Yuna gently lifts your work shirt, you say nothing, letting your daughter express her feelings as Yuna's gentle attacks send electric shocks down your back.

"Please look at me," she says as she forces you to turn around, pulling you by your hips until your bottom is resting on the edge of the kitchen counter, face to face with your daughter, who is staring at you for the first time this morning.

Her eyes were trembling and she asked you in a soft, frightened voice: "Tell me you love me, Daddy", while she pressed her body against yours. You felt her soft breasts against your chest and she put her hands on the back of your neck. Your daughter brings her lips to yours, her eyes closed, waiting for you to confirm your feelings.

At this point your morality as a father is the only obstacle standing in the way of this relationship, your daughter may not realise it but it is an immoral relationship waiting to happen, your daughter is still looking for a way to fill the hole in her heart, the love of her members doesn't seem to be working for her and now she is relying on you, her father, to give her what she needs, it is a difficult choice but you are letting yourself be swallowed by the devil, your daughter's happiness is what matters.

You cupped her cheek with one hand before pressing your lips to hers as Yuna melted under the pressure of her emotions, you rediscovered the sensation of love and laid your daughter on the counter while maintaining the kiss.

Your daughter is now sitting on the worktop, the difference in height bringing her face level with yours, she grabs the back of your hair to pull you towards her, her legs wrapped around your hips, your lips still locked as your tongues meet again.

When the seal is finally broken, both your breaths are heavy and noisy, each under the hypnosis of its own pleasure, while your eyes are full of sparkles and plunge into each other's. Your princess's eyes shed small tears, which you hastily wipe away with your finger before giving her a long kiss on the forehead.

Daddy, my heart is going to explode,' she says as she takes your hand to her breast with her t-shirt, the feeling is even better than you had imagined, her small breasts are firm and pleasant to touch, as you gently knead her breasts, the young woman makes little moans that express the pleasure she is receiving.

"Yuna... do you like what Daddy is doing?"

She nods "I want to feel your hand on my skin," she replies as she takes both your hands and places them under her t-shirt, right on her breasts.

"Do you like my lemons daddy? squeeze them hard please" Yuna's sexy face and her words echo in your brain as your hands work on her juicy fruit.

The tension in the room rises and you place your mouth on her little lemon, which you have been kneading for a few minutes, you attack her nipple with your tongue while you suck, hoping to suck something, you alternate your hands, now covered with little red spots, your daughter moans with pleasure and prevents you from withdrawing.

"Daddy, suck on them, play with my little lemons that you love so much, they're yours".

All this excitement had made you hot and a knot had formed in your trousers. Your lips left her two Susson-marked mounds and now attacked her defenceless neck, licking it from bottom to top, following her carotid artery and planting long kisses under her jaw, making her tremble before she gently pushed you away.

"Dad, let me take care of you too, I've been feeling your lump on my leg for a while now".

Your daughter begins to unbuckle your belt, then your trousers, until she can finally see your underpants and cock. Then your daughter puts her hand on the front of your briefs to rub your cock, and you see her other hand go down her shorts, probably to check the state of her briefs.

"I'm soaking wet, keep playing with my tits and come and touch me down there while I take care of you".

Your daughter's hand reaches through your shorts and grabs your cock to stroke it gently, on your side you slide one of your hands up her thigh to her panties and rub her slit directly against her skin, she's wet and you can feel a small bush above her entrance, you wiggle your fingers up and down, taking the opportunity to go back and kiss your princess who moans at your actions.

Yuna's technique isn't the best, but who can blame her, the poor thing is fighting against her own body and the way she arched her back as you delicately knocked on her pussy door, freeing her lips from your kiss, the young idol expressed with volume what she was feeling,

♥Hmm....♥Ah....Papa, continue ♥Hmm, ah....♥

Your daughter's moans are like music to your ears and she quickly lets you know that her orgasm is coming as your fingers begin to penetrate her pussy from the inside, you feel little spasms running down her body and her pussy dripping with wetness, as you pull your fingers out you see the deception in her eyes before devouring her with your mouth, forcing her to let go of your cock in the process. 

Your cock is extremely hard after Yuna's work but your pleasure is not your priority as your tongue slides up and down your daughter's slit, her juices are delicious and you suck them in to capture the taste of her naughty hole in your memory. Her grip on your thin hair is powerful and she blocks your head with her legs as you finally hear the release.

"Daddy, I'm going to come, it's happening, da..." before she can finish her own sentence, stopped by her pleasure, Yuna comes all over your now wet face and falls onto her back on the worktop.

"Are you OK, sweetie?" you ask her, a little worried as she suddenly falls backwards, the pressure of her legs freeing you and you see a close-up of your daughter lying on her back in front of you, her face red and wrung out, her hair falling in the air on the other side of the table, her breasts exposed and marked by your many hickeys and her pretty pink pussy that you've just finished devouring.

You grab both her hands and pull her towards you so that she's at your full height, then you take her in your arms as if you were comforting a small child.

"You're so hard daddy, you can do it if you want to," she says with a little hesitation and tired eyes, then you notice that your cock is at the same height as her pussy.

The choice seems obvious but at the same time you don't want to take it lightly and spoil the moment, the lack of time and place is not what you want to give your princess who is offering herself to you so you shake your head in refusal then plant a long kiss on her lips.

"Not now baby, another time," you reply as you start to pull away from her, only to feel her hand holding you back.

"At least let me make you feel better, I want to make you feel better too," she says as she grabs your cock and starts to jerk it like before.

"Do you like it when I rub your naughty cock? Why does a father turn on his daughter so much?" Yuna tries to be provocative to arouse you, but the tone is off and her lack of experience is glaring, you just smile under your daughter's true words.

Your orgasm builds as Yuna experiments with your cock, trying to give you as much pleasure as possible. You put your hands on her tits again and play with them, which doesn't seem to bother her, far from it.

.

.

"Daddy?"

.

.

"Yes, sweetie?

.

.

"You know ... if you want my lemons to give you their juice, you'll have to give me yours first," she said, pointing to her pussy.

The image crosses your mind, the image of a father and daughter kissing the fruit of their forbidden love, a father giving his love to his daughter and a daughter giving birth to that love, your excitement and shame explode as your cock comes to paint the lower part of your daughter's body, her pussy and thighs marked by your essence.

I'm sorry, I'll clean you up,' you say, looking for something to wipe your cum-filled daughter with.

"It's OK, I'll do it myself,' she says as she scoops up the white liquid and brings it to her mouth.

Any young man would have been revitalised to see such a beautiful woman collecting cum on her body, but your cock is now in a less than glorious state and you pull up your trousers, taking care to get dressed.

"It's almost time darling, I have to go," you tell her as you haven't eaten or slept well, it's going to be a long day.

"Wait," she replies as she approaches you, still naked, "don't forget my goodbye kiss," as she presses her lips hard against yours, then whispers, "we'll continue tonight, I love you.

Your body and mind may be in bad shape, but knowing your princess will be there for you tonight fills your heart with a feeling you've been missing.

Later, in your car on the way to work, you get a notification that someone you're following has just started a live stream, obviously it's Yuna, she's the only one you follow, you pick up the stream on the way, but enough to hear your daughter say

My favourite fruit? mhhhhhhhhhh that's a good question, I'll go with lemon, it's a sweet fruit like me and TMI, but my dad loves lemons'.

______________________________________________________________

[inqilabi]

Another thing that I have observed over the years is that, not a lot of people are good at relationships. As in they don't know the fundamentals of a good relationship. And with that it follows, that for some people this comes naturally. And for some people this is learned.

A lot of people don't seem to be good at communicating in relationships. Meaning that they will let a thing that bothered them fester until it grows into resentment. And they bring it up once the resentment is bubbling. And obviously, because it's pent up, when do they do bring it up, it's in an explosive manner.

So everyone at some point learns that relationships are about communication. And they tell you this wisdom. But no one actually gives you the details and the formula

Communication is about

1) frequency. So don't let this fester. Bring it up right away

2) type of communication. So positive and the negative. Ie., things that are working but also not working. The positive communication will be, "oh I loved [action], because [what it made you feel]. You are so [the unique attribute about your partner that led to this behaviour]". This is what is going to build connection regularly. Regularly appreciating your partner. And not just in a generic manner. But in an instance specific manner.

Or in the negative "when the [situation/issue], it makes me [feeling], and if this continues to happen i will [feel/consequences]". It doesn't attack the partner and views them an opportunity to rise to meet your needs. And focuses instead on the situation / issue and the effect on you. This is what will maintain the relationship. Prevent it from going down.

3) manner of communication. You should never say "you always do this" "you never do this". That is not an productive way of conveying concern to your partner. That is just attacking them as mentioned in point #2. The person who is being addressed also should listen and not get defensive or criticism. If one person has legitimately brought up a concern, and the other person says "no i don't do that " or "it's not that big of a deal" or "well you did this [unrelated other thing so long ago]", this is a cause for concern. Men often do the latter and imo it's a red flag. A man should be able to listen to your concerns and not feel attacked if you have brought it up in a gentle let's tag-team this issue manner. If a man does get defensive or start criticizing you instead, he has an ego or insecurity problem. Thats one of the things that will chip away at a relationship. Is defensiveness and criticism.

There's other things that maintain relationships like taking interest in your partners interest, when they ask you to look at something or share something with you - then you should take interest. There's many people who might ignore it or outright dismiss it (chips away) or some might simply acknowledge it (maintains), where are some might take an interest and ask you questions on the thing youve shared. Ask you where you learned about it. What you found interesting about it. How it made you feel etc (builds relationships).

Some years ago I wrote a post, which I can't find now. But I found it so surprising in couples that I had observed that a man would so often dismiss his partners attempt to connect. I remember the instance I noticed this - I was at a desi Eid bazaar. And a woman came to her husband who was sitting with their child, giddily told him that she had haggled the price of a cloth down by 20 dollars. And instead of being proud of her and appreciating her, he said something along the lines of "you could have gotten it for 30 off". And I saw the joy disappear from her face. And he chipped away willingly. So bewildering to me that you have an opportunity to connect and build, so easily handed to you - and in so many couples, they reject it. It's like someone offering you a couple of dollars for free in a long-term investment, and you're like - nah thanks I'm good. Maddening!

[wonder-worker]

I've been thinking about the tragedy of Elizabeth Woodville living to see the end of her family name.

I don't mean her family with her husband, which lived on through her daughter and grandson. I mean her own.

Her sisters died, one by one, many of them after 1485. When Elizabeth died, only Katherine was left, and she would die before the turn of the century as well.

All her brothers died, too. Lewis died in childhood. John was executed. Anthony was murdered. Lionel died suddenly in the peak of Richard's reign, unable to see his niece become queen. Edward perished at war. Richard died in grieving peace. For all the violence and judgement the family endured, it was "an accident of biology" that ended their line: none of the brothers left heirs, and the Woodville name was extinguished. We know the family was aware of this. We know they mourned it, too:

“Buy a bell to be a tenor at Grafton to the bells now there, for a remembrance of the last of my blood.”

Elizabeth lived through the deposition and death of her young sons, and lived to see the end of her own family name. It must have been such a haunting loss, on both sides.

[slightlytoastedbagel]

Yuka Shiraishi. btw.

[infizero]

i love thinking about my little future au where sonics older and not heroing it up anymore and he lives in a little cottage with shadow (theyre married) which doubles as a cat orphanage and also has a small chao garden in the back. every so often sonic will speed around and visit his numerous boyfriends (knuckles, jet, etc.) and shadow will tell him “tell knuckles i said his gloves are fucking ugly and stupid and his shoes suck ass” and sonic goes aww. i wont. and when he comes back he eats some of shadow’s dogshit cooking but its ok. the power of the love. (they get takeout mostly. at some point amy will force sonic into learning how to cook himself so he doesnt have to brave shadow’s cooking anymore) and everything is awesome and cool yipee!!

[j-esbian]

i rly rly hope i’m able to see the eclipse tomorrow

[onetosaveyou]

I really don't want to have to wait a whole year so less two to die but maybe I should just. fucking join the 27 club. the last decade of my life has been horrific and I've wanted to die consistently for like. over a decade. so like what's suffering for just over two more years. at least then I can know for certain there's not something more. and I can successfully distance myself from anyone with time instead of just my instability.

[jjk4isen]

ꗃ 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃, 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 .

❝ answer me. did you think of her when you're in bed with me? when you're kissing me and holding me— was she the one on your mind? ❞

summary: it's hard knowing you aren't really the person in toji's heart but loving him was something you still did regardless. as for toji, he thinks he's ready to give you his all.

desc: 2.8k words, f!reader (referred to as ‘mama’), canon compliant i think, takes place after mamaguro's death and before toji’s, age gap (early 20s reader, early 30s toji), baby gumi ahhhhh, sfw, angst to fluff to angst again lol, intended lowercase, think you're tsumiki’s mom but without tsumiki bc the relations would be too complicated and also the second wife erasure in the canon storyline?? yeah it's reserved specifically for this fic, not proof read i fear but pls read it's really interesting i can swear by it lmaoqhdhns

dating a widowed man with a son wasn't easy especially when the said man is still in love with his former wife, or rather, his wife who had died.

love is often beautiful but sometimes it's unfair. it can also be cruel. what other reason would make you still stay despite knowing you'll never measure upto the person who had been here before you?

and you've heard stories about her. she was sweet, so beautiful— not just in her appearance but her entire being was beautiful. there always was an ache in your heart upon just the mention of her name.

so how much more would it have ached for toji?

“mama” the spiky haired boy, barely two years old calls you and you realise the silence in the room. “not mama, i’m nana okay?” sick.

nana. not mama but close enough. it doesn't matter anyway, n and m are just letters and next to each other so how much difference would that make? you're the one that's here after all, are you not?

if there's a lump in your throat and your eyes are burning with unshed tears, you force yourself to ignore.

“okay nana” megumi nuzzles his face into your chest, slowly drifting away to sleep. the boy always liked cuddling with you and it melts your heart immensely.

your hands strand through his dark hair. people always said he's the carbon copy of his dad but you'd like to differ. megumi has his mother's eyes and his hair resembled hers more than it did his dad's.

the thought sends another ache in your chest but you push it away– as you always have.

you recall the last time toji had heard megumi call you “mama”. you had never seen toji that livid. he was never a gentle man to begin with but that night, there was nothing else you've been more scared of.

was he like that to his wife? maybe not.

does that matter though? it's not like toji treats you badly. he's decent and loves you an enough amount. you weren't crazy enough to stay when you're not wanted so that must mean you were something to him right?

you also recall the whispers of pity and condemnation thrown at you for just being with toji. him being a brute is one thing but the difference in age is what people seem to have a problem with. you're so much younger than him and have your whole life ahead of you so why are you entrapping yourself this way?

you disagree though. love doesn't know any age and you definitely aren't naive to be head over heels over a guy just because he's relatively older. no, this was real and genuine.

a faint knock disrupts your train of thoughts. “he sleepin’?” toji nods towards the small boy in your arms and you nod back in return.

taking care not to wake the sleeping kid, you slowly pry his hands away from you and pull over a blanket to cover his small body.

when you make your way towards toji, he wastes no time in pulling you closer “missed you” he mumbles, placing a kiss onto your forehead and suddenly all thoughts plaguing your mind disappears. that's all you could ask for, even if it was just for a moment.

“i missed you more” you whisper back, he only huffs out an amused chuckle.

“got bad news though” a frown finds itself on his lips, decorated by a single scar next to it.

“did you lose all your money again?” toji was a gambling addict, another thing you forced yourself to tolerate just for him.

“sorry, doll. thought i’d win this time” he rubs small circles on your back comfortingly and it makes you a bit uneasy to know that he has his way with you so easily.

“it's alright. i’ll just find another part time job”

“so good to me” toji pulls you into his chest and you let out a sigh— of exhaustion? relief? you couldn't really tell but that's not important, toji had you in his arms.

“i’ll try and think of something too. don't worry your pretty little head too much” he lifts you up with ease. while you're in his arms, you feel the safest.

toji really felt bad this time. he was confident he would win but that stupid horse had to trip and lose its lead, ending up last of all places. he knows luck never favoured him but that's didn't stop him from trying again and again and again.

he also knows how you didn't say anything more than necessary about it but he isn't that much of an idiot either. he sees how your expression falters and your shoulders slump a little more when he comes home with another news of his gambling loss.

this is also why he tries, or rather, tried to quit — one too many times, unbeknownst to you. however, old habits die hard and most of the time (everytime) toji gives into his urge and loses yet again. the cycle keeps happening.

maybe this isn't just about gambling.

with the way you're asleep so soundly next to him after putting his son to sleep and taking care of him too, he is overcomed with yet another feeling to be better for you and megumi alike.

toji isn't a gentle man; everyone knows that, you do too — even more than anybody else but he can't help the familiar pool of warm feelings surging through him the longer he stares at your peaceful state.

he remembers the last time he felt it, with another person. it felt like a lifetime ago.

he also remembers how painful it was when he lost it — the person, the feeling altogether. his hands that were making their way to caress your face stops mid air.

toji knows you deserve so much better. you've been nothing but patient to him, so amazing, so perfect to him. still, he just can't do it yet, just not yet.

he will eventually, he hopes you stay until then.

toji wakes up to an empty bed and his heart sinks a little but the creases and wrinkles on the sheets serve as a reminder that you were really here.

he makes his way towards the kitchen, only finding megumi sitting on a chair next to the dining table.

“hey kid, where's your mama?”

toji freezes. it came out so naturally he didn't realise he said it himself and almost thinks he didn't but megumi's wide eyes prove that he actually did.

“m…mama?” megumi says hesitantly and toji nods this time. “yes, your mama”.

“potty potty!” megumi points to the bathroom and giggles, toji follows suit. the man crouches to his son's eye level and pats his head.

“you love your mama, kid?” toji sees megumi's eyes sparkle as the boy nods enthusiastically “very very much!!”

“yeah? i love your mama too.”

toji smiles to himself, he can't wait to tell that to you.

the next time toji got his pay, he finds himself hesitating. instead of heading towards the race tracks, his feet takes him to a jewellery store.

instead of picking out a slot and testing his luck, he picks out a ring. it's not fancy by any means but he thinks it would be the most beautiful band of metal to exist if it slides into your ring finger.

the tiny ring carries all the heavy feelings he has for you.

──

it was one particular evening when you saw an old man lingering by the front gate. its particular because the warm sunset and the soft cool breeze contrasted the ground breaking truth you find out.

“can i help you?” you ask the old man who looks at you up and down, not making an attempt to hide his distaste of your sight.

“is this where toji zenin lives?” he stares down at you with his scrutinising gaze; it makes you feel small.

“zenin?” you ask, confused. is he referring to toji? but his last name is fushiguro is it not?

“yes toji zenin. i heard he has a son as well. you're not the mother are you?”

is it that obvious? you wonder how the old man figured it out. regardless, you're not about to give him his answers so you stood your ground.

“i’m sorry i don't know what you're talking about.” you turn around, about to head inside when his words make you stop short.

“are you fushiguro?”

that's toji’s last name isn't it? not zenin or whatever he called it. so why is he asking you that? is he implying that you're married to toji?

“no. you have the wrong person.”

“why? did he say not to get involved with anyone from his clan?” the old man draws closer, chucking to himself. you're just there unmoving, trying to comprehend the situation and the words coming from his mouth.

“or did he not tell you that either? did he tell you anything at all?” he stands tall in front of you, tearing away bits of yourself with every word he says.

“when he returns, tell him the clan wants to propose him an offer. you can do that much at least won't you?”

…

and when toji comes home that night with the ring cluched tightly in his fist and inside the pocket of his white pants, the world stills.

he finds you in a state he has never seen you before. you look completely and utterly defeated.

“hey, what's wrong?” his hands come to caress your face so effortlessly, the ring and prior nervousness long forgotten.

“talk to me what's going on?” he looks around and the house seems emptier than usual. your laundry that were usually hanging with his were gone.

your small trinkets you placed around the house to “make it more lively” were nowhere to be found.

and there's a bag in the corner of the room which toji prays and hopes he isn't what he thinks it is.

your hands push away his own that were cupping your face. you're not even looking at him.

“say something damn it!”

you flinch and toji takes a step back. he recalls the last time you trembled in fear — when he got mad megumi called you his mom. he punishes himself for it.

“im sorry. please talk to me.” he isn't touching you now but he wants to. he wants to reach out and pull you close, as he always had done. but now there's an unbearable silence and the small distance between you both felt like lightyears away.

“who's zenin” your voice was meek, barely a whisper but toji's eyes widen. how did you find out about that?

no fuck that, he was supposed to be the one telling you. in his own time.

“i can explain” was all that came out of him. he's nervous, he doesn't know where to start. there's a lot of information to unpack and he's not sure how to do it without hurting you too much.

when he doesn't elaborate, you ask another “who's fushiguro then?” your voice falters a bit and toji curses himself for it.

but he's done running away and keeping things from you. “my… my late wife” he says wryly.

your eyes close and a shaky breath leaves your body, as if he just confirmed your worst suspicions. damn life is so funny isn't it? everything you thought you knew apparently wasn't what it seemed to be after all.

opening them again, your vision blurs and you realise tears were escaping your eyes. fuck you didn't want to cry now of all times but they won't stop.

and the way toji was looking at you, it makes you want to throw up.

“i must've been so stupid to you” you let out a humourless chuckle. “did you pretend im her?”

your gaze was sharp and so were your words. maybe all your bottled up feelings were resurfacing. it doesn't make you feel better about it but that doesn't stop you though.

“answer me. did you think of her when you're in bed with me? when you're kissing me and when you're holding me, was she the one on your mind??” your voice was loud now. you should be afraid of waking up megumi who you cradled to sleep just a few hours ago but no, your thoughts are too clouded right now.

toji sighs. he has no excuse.

“i used to” he actually looks ashamed as if he wasn't the one who did it purely out of his will.

your scoff makes him wince “but not anymore.”

his words fall on deaf ears “you know… i knew you did. but i stayed regardless because i thought there would be a chance that maybe one day, you could open up your heart to me. im not even asking for all of it, just a little… i thought you'd let me in.”

you're blabbering and honestly, so distraught.

“but not a moment was there when it was me isn't it? it was always her in the first place.”

now toji should have said something, anything but he stays there planted in place. and maybe that was your breaking point.

you turn around, grabbing your bag and brushing past him towards the door. instead of holding onto you and stopping you, toji clutches the small box containing the ring — your ring in his pocket, almost crushing it in the process, as he hears the door slam.

you think it's funny how toji did not reach out after what happened. it's poetic even. very fitting of him, till the very end, he did not give two shits about you.

so then, why were you back here?

it's been four long years since the trajectory of your life changed. you still don't know if it was for the better or for the worse.

saying it has been hard would be an understatement. it took you a long time just to get back onto your own feet but you did it regardless. however, you left a part of you here long ago and now, you're here to take it back.

that and you missed megumi dearly. perhaps it was an excuse too because you won't deny a part of you still missed toji, despite everything that happened.

standing a few feet away from the place you used to call home, you hesitate.

maybe this was a bad idea. oh this was definitely a bad idea. you'll see them, and then what? what comes after that?

closure? don't make yourself laugh. you’ll just be reminded of how you couldn't be that person for toji— how you'll always come second. and what if they moved?? there's no reason they'd still be here right?

forget this, you don't need to do this. why must you still be the one who put effort? to reach out? four long years passed and still no news means they clearly moved on... right?

you were convinced enough and was about to go back when you saw little megumi carrying a backpack on his back, seemingly coming home from school.

your feet wouldn't move and your eyes wouldn't blink. he grew up so well.

the world pauses as your gaze follows the kid you used to consider your own, now as good as a stranger.

“do you know that kid?” a voice at your back makes you whip your head around. life really is full of surprises and this time, the surprise was in the form of a tall man, no a tall kid with white hair, looking at you curiously through his round tinted glasses.

“... no i don't” well you weren't exactly lying. you don't know the megumi you see now. perhaps if he asked whether you raised him since he was a baby till he was two, then your answer would've been different.

“oh okay” the boy shrugs. “poor guy though”

“why? whats up with him?” you turn to look at megumi again who was minding his business walking home and your heart aches a little.

“I'm here to recruit him. his dad died you see so he's–”

“wait what was that??”

“his dad. he's dead” the amused boy in front of you chuckles and you stare at him, horrified.

“what happened to him?” your voice was shaky and doesn't sound like your own. he leans down to meet your eye level and smirks “why? i thought you don't know that kid. why does that matter to you?”

your stomach churns as you stare at him, not even knowing what to say— the smug expression on his face only widens.

“so you do know him.”

'know' would be a weak word to use when it comes to toji. you knew of his habits, the simple things he does and also of the more complex ones — like the exact place his scar decorated his lips and how it felt to kiss it.

then again, you don't really know anything about him and maybe you never will.

and maybe that's really, the closure you needed.

[angel5ofp0rn]

♡ part one ♡

ExHusband!Price x f!reader

been thinking ab this post 4ever and need to get it out tbh.

**I’ve never done something like this b4 and I haven’t proofread so pls be nice 2 me ._. **

You have been divorced from your ex husband John Price for two years. Still, he comes over and shovels your driveway for you every time it snows.

He’s come inside and warmed up in the mudroom nearly every 15-20 minutes, puffing hot breath into his hands and rubbing them together for warmth before stepping back out and shoveling again.

You meet him in the mudroom for his fourth warm-up break and hand him a mug of hot coffee. Dash of cream, one sugar.

“Still how you take your coffee, right?” You offer a small smile, hugging your arms around yourself as John takes a sip from the mug.

“Still the same.” He nods before he takes another sip, the small smile that had appeared at the corner of his mouth quickly fading.

He leans up against the doorframe, the shovel leaning against the wall next to him. He peers out of the door's window, checking over his work.

“I'll get goin' soon enough. It ain't snowing right now, the drive's nearly clear.”

You thank him again, even though you never asked him to do this in the first place. You can’t help but look up at him, meeting his blue eyes for just a moment.

Before he could reply, your two children came running around the corner cheering and squealing when they saw their dad.

John's smile brightens at their presence, his body language immediately softening as he squatted down to their level.

“Hey, my little monkeys. Come give yer ol’ dad a hug.” He opens his arms out wide, inviting both of them to come to him. It doesn't take long before they both go crashing into him, squealing, smiling. Their giggles filled the small room.

You just smile. Even if you and John aren’t always on the best of terms, you can’t deny that he’s a great father.

“Daddy’s cold.” Your youngest shivers a bit from hugging their dad, who still had snow on his clothes and frost on his beard from shoveling.

John tries to shrug it off, but you ask him to stay and warm up for a while.

For the kids, of course.

Plus dinner is nearly ready, and you definitely made too much for just you and the kids, anyway.

More cheering, more squealing, more giggling as John finally agrees and kicks his boots off, hanging his coat on the hook.

John’s blue eyes scan the new decor and different paintings on the wall, but he doesn’t comment on how much the place has changed since he moved out.

After dinner, the two of you stand in the doorway as you watch the kids play together in their playroom, that used to be John’s “man cave”.

“They're gonna make you tuck them in.” You mention, sipping your glass of wine.

John smiles, a casual shrug of his shoulders.

“Maybe you can convince them to go up and brush their teeth?” You lower your wineglass and offer a fake, pleading pout.

He looks down for a moment, pretending not to see the gesture. Instead, he looks back to the children.

“Right then, you two little monkeys. It’s gettin’ late. Go on up and brush your teeth. I’ll come tuck you in.”

Both children protest for a while, but eventually give in without too much of a fight. That’s a new one.

John lets out a chuckle as the children roll their eyes and go up the stairs. He watches them disappear from view before turning and meeting your eyes again, still smiling for this small victory.

As if he had just realized he was staring, John’s eyes darted down into his now empty mug.

"Let me take that." You reach for his mug but he shakes his head.

"I haven’t forgotten where the kitchen is," He smiles a bit. "'ll clean up and then tuck the kids in."

John makes his way over to the kitchen, placing it in the sink and starting water. You follow, and notice that he was also washing the dishes from dinner as well.

“John, you don’t have to-“

“I know.”

And that’s that.

You chew your bottom lip. This looked too familiar. It felt too familiar.

"I'm... gonna go check on them and get them in their pj's." You gesture to the stairs in the hall.

He looks up at you briefly and nods; "Be up in a bit, love.”

Once the water is emptied from the sink, he starts loading the dishes into the dishwasher. Once completed, he starts to wipe down the counters and stovetop, wanting to make sure he left no mess behind. Then he trekked back up the stairs to tuck in the kids.

You’re downstairs again, on the living room sofa. You wanted to let John have a moment alone with the kiddos before he left again.

He makes his way down the stairs and sees you sitting there in the dim lighting. He clears his throat a bit as he walks through the living room and back into the mudroom.

“They're tucked in. Not a whisper from ‘em.” He mentions casually as he gets his snow boots back on.

You thank him, turning to watch him leave, but notice him looking out of the door window and pause. So you make your way over to the door to see what he’s seeing.

It's started snowing and the driveway is completely covered again. It looks like he hasn't even shoveled.

John lets out a grunt of disbelief and sighs, pulling on his beanie and reaching for the shovel once again.

“Don't-“ You shake your head, placing your hand on the shovel. “It's snowing hard, there's no point in shoveling it all up just for it to be covered again. Why don't you... stay on the couch or something tonight.”

He stares down at the shovel for a moment, debating it. After a beat, he sighs a bit, nodding.

“I... could do that.”

You go upstairs to the bedroom and bring John some extra pillows and blankets to make a bed on the couch with.

You set everything on the coffee table and the two of you sit on the couch for a moment, just catching up and chatting about the kids.

“The kids both want to do soccer in the spring.” You mention, your cheeks a bit rosy from the wine you had with dinner.

“Football.” He corrects with a small smirk. You roll your eyes.

“Let me pay for the lessons.” He says; not asking.

Of course you refuse.

Of course he insists.

You settle on splitting it.

Then it happens again. Your eyes meet his. Neither one of you speaks. Suddenly you’re transported back to the first night you met; you were newly 21 and already tipsy when your eyes met those of an older man in his fatigues as he sat at the bar. You remember drunkly telling the older man that he had the prettiest blue eyes, and that you wanted a hundred of his babies that looked just. like. him.

You have two, at least.

“Oh!” You sit up a bit straighter, snapping out of your daydream. “I was going to ask you to look at something on my laptop. It's doing that thing again. It's upstairs.” You get up and head to your home office, John right behind you.

You open your laptop and hand it to John. He knew how to fix it last time, so it should take him no time.

He sits in your office chair and you step away into your bedroom across the hall to get into a pair of pajama shorts and a hoodie, since it's getting late.

The laptop whirred softly before he got it running again. Only took a minute. He sets it on the desk, leaning back in your chair with his hands behind his head as he looks up through the open door where you can be found, changing in the bedroom.

You were his wife at one point, anyway. Isn’t something he hasn’t seen before…

After you’ve changed, you lay on your bed, scrolling through your phone as you wait for John to fix the issue with your laptop, unaware that he was watching. Unaware that the laptop has been fixed for a while now, and he was just wasting time.

Eventually, his voice wafts through the doorway.

“Think I got it, love-“ He pauses for a moment. “Er, Y/N.”

“Ugh, thank you.” You sigh and sit up, taking the laptop from him and setting it on your nightstand. “Stupid thing always acting up.”

John sits on the edge of your bed as you take the laptop back from him.

“Not a problem. It was a quick fix.” He offers a small smile, rubbing the back of his head.

He takes a glance at you, noticing the pajamas you had put on.

"...Is that my sweatshirt?"

You blush a bit sheepishly, looking down at the oversized, grey 2XL Special Air Service hoodie you’re wearing. "Um..."

Another small chuckle escapes his lips. He shakes his head a bit, trying to contain his amusement.

“S’what I thought. You look... comfy." He reaches his hand out towards your leg, running his hand lightly over your bare legs, exposed by the shorts you were wearing.

Without realizing what he's doing, he has his hand on your thigh, and he gives it a light squeeze.

Eventually his hand travels higher to rest on your sex over your pajama shorts.

Usually, you'd tell him off. Monologue about how this isn't how things work because it complicated things and you both need to set boundaries.

But tonight you don't.

Maybe it's because you had two heavy-handed pours of your favorite wine with dinner. Maybe it was seeing him with your kids again. Maybe it had just been too long since you'd felt anything other than a cheap bullet vibrator.

So you let him slip his hand down your panties.

But it's a bit jarring to feel his wedding band still on his finger.

You look down at his hand for a beat when you feel it.

You look back up and place your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in and crashing your lips together.

John wastes no time in laying you back on your bed and tugging your shorts and panties off, tossing them somewhere behind him.

His lips are on your neck, his hands spreading your soft thighs apart. You can smell the musky scent of himself on him, mixed with that familiar cologne of his, and you breathe a sigh.

“Take this off f’r me.” He mumbles against your skin, sliding your his hoodie up your body.

Your body aches for this to continue, and John doesn't plan to disappoint, but he takes a moment to admire what's sprawled out in front of him. He lets out a satisfied smirk as he pulls you closer by your thighs. He's undone his belt and shrugged out of his jeans in no time.

You pull his shirt off over his head before you close your eyes and tilt your head to give him easier access to kiss your neck.

His scruffy beard tickles your neck, his calloused hands gripping your thigh and rubbing your slick, dripping pussy.

“So needy.” John observed as your back arched and your body squirmed at his touch. "Poor thing... No one's been keepin’ you satisfied, hm?”

You shake your head a bit. You hate that he’s right. You hate that he can tell. That he knows you too well.

But he’s right; no random Tinder hookup and no blind date that your friends have set you up with could ever compare to your ex husband.

“Should’a told me...” He murmurs as he leans lower, positioning his head in between your thighs, pressing desperate kisses to your aching clit.

He’s got you figured out completely. He’s always been good at that.

A smile forms as his hands move to grip your thighs. He lets out a quiet groan as your legs instinctively clamp around his head. The look of his veiny hands gripping your plushy thighs with that damn wedding band still around his finger is doing things to you.

His tongue slowly plays in circular motions, teasing you, loving the game. He takes his time, enjoying himself, as you continue to squeeze your thighs against his head. Hell, he’d let you suffocate him if it meant he could eat your pussy this one last time.

You try not to, but you let out a desperate moan of pleasure. He knew exactly what you like, exactly where to lick, exactly where to kiss, exactly where to nibble.

Damn him.

“You sound s’pretty, lovey. S’pretty f’r me.” He pants, his praise ending with a whimper.

Your eyes roll back. Fuck, he has you. He knows he has you. Your moans and whimpers are uncontrollable as he picks up the pace, all but slamming his thick cock into your pretty little hole.

You’re his, and he knows it, and in the moment, it’s true. Just him. Just you. The rest doesn’t matter right now.

John pulls out for just a moment while he swiftly flips you over, roughly gripping your hips and pulling your backside into him. He’s got the angle just right now, and your breath catches in your throat, followed by a needy whimper.

“Mine… All mine… Isn’t that right?” He whispers, more of a command than a question.

Your face is pressed against the mattress as John’s grip on your hips tighten. This angle, this position, John is so familiar with it. He knows what it does to you. He knows the way it makes you respond.

John lets out a loud groan as your whimpers and moans get more needy, desperate. He knows that you’re about to come.

He finishes right then and there, along with you.

You gasp a bit, surprised by the synchronization. Should you really be surprised, though? Only he would know your body like that. You’re his. He’s yours.

John slowly pulls his softening cock out of you, lying on the bed and pulling you into his chest. His hand grabs your thigh, draping your leg around his waist in an attempt to hold you closer.

He lets out a few deep breaths, letting the adrenaline and endorphins just fade away. Neither of you wants to move right now, both just content being in each other’s arms. Both content feeling the heat of each other’s bodies, just listening to each other breathing.

“Better than I remembered it.” John murmurs, his voice laced with a smirk.

You catch John’s left hand after he reached up to push your sweaty hair from your forehead. You hold it in yours, playing a bit with the wedding band.

next >>

[disneyprincemuke]

ღ this barbie’s teammate is a schumacher

notes: hello gays it is i, finally writing for barbie

she closes the car door and sighs with a small smile, looking at the building ahead of her. this will be her life until she decides otherwise. she shoves her car keys into her purse and watches curiously as another supercar pulls into the empty lot next to her.

is that who she thinks it is?

she takes a step towards her car, watching the car be parked into the slot flawlessly. she tilts her head when it comes to a stop, the driver's side opening to reveal its driver.

"oh!" she shrieks, running around the front of her car to approach the young man. "mick schumacher, right? i am such a big fan! i'm so excited to finally be working with you!"

the german takes a step back, overwhelmed by the sudden presence of the girl in pink approaching him. she has a pair of sunglasses resting on the top of her head, a fur coat on and a purse hanging off her elbow.

"oh, hi," mick smiles politely. he's not a mean person; he's just a little more introverted than the next guy. "i'm glad to be with honda this year. i'm looking forward to spending the year with you."

he was in deep thought before she came up to him. he wondered, as the way he's been doing for years, if the rumours that he'd been scouted for the second seat at the request of his boss's daughter. but who is he to complain; he's racing in f1 again. does it matter how he got back into it?

surely not.

but this girl that stands in front of him – could she be an intern? she looks fairly young, very enthusiastic, and a glimmer of hope in her eyes that he doesn't see from individuals his age often. perhaps a marketing intern.

"alright, well, i'll see you inside! i love the sweater, by the way!" she shrieks, waving at him with a wide smile. she waves at him as she walks away, cautiously crossing the parking lot as the rest of the cars for the day start to roll in. "and the car! you have to give me a tour someday!"

he waves back at her in confusion, only able to mutter a 'goodbye' to himself as she disappears into the big front doors of the building. he locks his car and follows her in the direction she left, ready to start his new year with a new team.

he spends the next 10 minutes navigating the new factory he'll be frequenting from now on. introducing himself to people, familiarising himself with the engineers he'll be working closely with, and other members of the team. it's a surprisingly bigger team than he had initially thought, so it takes him longer than he expected.

about 20 minutes introducing himself and trying to pin names with the new faces. then he ends up in a quiet office, shaking his leg in anticipation as he awaits his first face-to-face meeting with his new teammate and his boss.

he hears clicks of heels right by the door, prompting him to sit up a little straighter as he glances behind him quickly. he straightens his sweater, pulls his sleeves down and wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans. he can't screw himself over.

"i'm telling you, daddy, he's got the coolest car! i saw him in the parking lot earlier!" the door opens, revealing two figures with two familiar faces. which, shouldn't be the case, because this is the first time he's meeting his teammate.

"do you want one, honey?"

"no, that's so silly! i love my car!" she giggles, before abruptly stopping at the sight of his wide blue eyes staring at her in disbelief. "my car is perfectly fine! right, mick?"

mick blinks, swallowing the forming lump of guilt in his throat. he had no idea that the girl in the parking lot was going to be his teammate eventually.

oh god, and for him to assume that she's a marketing or pr intern? how humiliating. how would he feel if someone were to think that of his sister was a mere backend worker when she is something more?

"yes," he answers by default, not really remembering what she was asking him. he immediately pushes himself up to his feet and extends a hand to her first. "i'm sorry. i don't believe i got your name in the parking lot – i didn't know you were going to be my teammate. i'm so sorry."

"oh, don't worry about it. it happens a lot." she introduces herself before quickly walking away, running over to the empty seat next to him.

mick huffs, grinning at her father before he takes a seat. but the entire time, all he can think of is how embarrassed he is for misjudging her. "you don't care that i didn't take you for a driver at first?"

she looks off blankly, pressing her lips together before shaking her head. she turns to him again. "it's not like i told you," she grins. "anyway, do you like japanese curry? that's my favourite – i'll make you some when we meet again for pre-season."

taglist: @cashtons-wife @darleneslane @namgification @happy-nico @nikfigueiredo @localwhoore @angsthology @renarots @elliegrey2803 @cha-hot @cosmoscoffeee @fanficweasley @sugarhoneylemons @aquangxl @omgsuperstarg @strawberryubin @lovecarsgoingvroom @mangotaitai @cherry-piee @ladyladybuggg @lethalvenus @gentlyweeps-world @spilled-coffee-cup @charizznorizz @wcnorris @storminacloud @minkyungseokie @viennakarma @leilanixx @daniellef89x @fezlvr @lavisenri @xcharlottemikaelsonx @ultraviolencesam @selsbackyard @ilove-tswizzle @riddle-me-im-sirius @kindestofkings

[octuscle]

Fatal shortcut

You know those days. The traffic is murder. You can't go another inch. Your destination is within reach, but it will take you three green lights and at least 20 minutes to cover the last 100 meters. Bloody hell! Honk the horn? It's no use… But now carefully pull onto the green lane, then cut across the high school parking lot and you're there. Why do you have your baby, the Mercedes G-Class, after all? I put on the turn signal, the car takes the sidewalk like nothing, carefully into the parking lot, look left and right and…… BANG! Damn it, the Mustang has clearly taken my right of way. This is guaranteed to take longer than 20 minutes… The two morons in the car look like they only have their heads to wear football helmets and pour beer through their mouths. The typical stereotypical football college jock bros. The day just keeps getting better…

"Yo, Chuck! Bro, did you see what that punk did there?" "Sure, Brad! He definitely took your right of way." I try to protest. But I'm way too caught off guard when the guy, who is obviously Chuck, stands up in front of me. God knows I'm not small. I'm a well-trained, muscular six foot two. But Chuck is easily ten centimetres and at least 20 kilograms taller than me… He grabs my balls. Damn it, I want to punch him, but Brad's already got me from behind. And Brad is barely smaller than Chuck. "There you go, you little faggot!" Chuck hisses at me. "Are you lying in wait for your wankers in the parking lot again? But this time is the last time!" He spits in my face and his grip on my balls tightens. Brad turns my head in his direction and spits again. Then the two of them get into their car, put it in reverse. And disappear.

I stand there a bit like an idiot. I'm far from being small or a faggot. And the last thing Chuck and Brad were to me were wank templates. I mean, I have nothing against gays… But thanks no, not for me… I'll take a look at the damage to the car. It's no big deal, the Mustang looked worse. I get back in the car, drive the last few meters into the underground car park, throw my keys to Stephen at reception and ask him to take the car to the garage. When I get off work later, I'd like to have it done. He puts his hand to his temple and says "Sir, aye, sir". Hehehe, I don't mind hierarchies being recognized.

"You little faggot"… I can't get that phrase out of my head. Shit, I'm really unfocused today. Maybe I just need a distraction. I go to the gym during my lunch break. Somehow I feel the need to look like anything but a faggot. I train bare-chested. Dressed only in compression shorts. Not really appreciated here. But I don't care today…

Shit, I'm not in top form here either… What I normally lift without any problems is all too heavy for me today. At least it's the cross trainer… Even though I'm not really the cardio type. When I get in the shower, my cock gets hard. Shit, that's embarrassing. But I also have to say that there's really only premium meat running around here today. And I'm one of them. Definitely one of them. Even the clean-shaven guy in front sees it that way. Clear body language. It doesn't take long before I'm leaning against the shower wall. And for the first time in my life I get fucked… And how! I can hear the angels singing. It feels so good as the stallion cums in my ass. To say goodbye, he gives me a kiss and a pat on the ass. And he says loudly to one of his buddies. "What a waste for such a submissive pig to have such a magnificent cock!"

The fuck was great, but apart from that I'm really not myself today. I feel like I've been missing the last year. For the life of me, I can't remember a lot of things that happened. It's like I wasn't there. I'm glad when Stephen calls me at around 5 p.m. to tell me that my car is back. I thank him, pack up my things and go down to reception. Stephen grins at me almost insolently and says that this service is an exception and that he now has something good on me. Completely confused, I say, "I'm fine, dude" and take my car keys. But there is no black G-Class in my parking lot. There's a baby blue Mercedes SLK, in good shape, freshly polished. But it must be 15 years old. I press the key. The doors open. What the fuck?

I just want to get home, this day is a disaster. As I park the embarrassing car and walk past the concierge, Michael calls after me, "Hey, Johnny boy, can you give Mrs. Smith from 2316 a lift?" I turn red. I walk back to the concierge desk. "So what, my name is Jonathan, but it's actually Mr. Hays to you. And why would I stop on the 23rd floor when I live on the 38th. Besides, I don't know Mrs. Smith." Michael grins at me with his one-million-dollar smile. "Rough day, John, uh, Mr. Hays? You might as well ask the old lady if her drain is still acting up. And before you try to break into the wrong apartment, I understand you live in 2304." He hands me a package. I drive up to the 23rd floor. I give her the package. She asks if I can plug in the new coffee machine straight away. "Of course, mom," I say. I ask if her drain is working again. She says it would be nice if I could have another look. I ask if she has any rubber gloves. She nods. I pull the dirt out of the blocked drain. She slips me a dollar. I go to 2304, open the door. And drop onto the bed. It's right next to the door. 2304 used to be the room for the lady's maid from apartment 2312. On the one hand, I feel very much at home. But on the other hand, I should be somewhere else. Somewhere with a view of Central Park. With more space. I pull out my cell phone and start working my way through Grindr. Maybe I just need someone to take me really hard again today

That was a night of really wild dreams. Really wild dreams. But obviously everything is fine now. I feel fit. My morning wood has never been better. I stroke my chest. Didn't it used to be hairy? I'm fantasizing again. What it would be like to be a real guy. Successful, at least 1.82 m. Well, I'm not going to grow any more. But maybe that's because of some Italian roots or something. That's where I got my hairy armpits and good beard growth. Shit, I'm still hard as nails. So routine like every morning: wank, jog, shower and then off to the office. I should be there at 07:00 so that the mail is distributed and the conference tables are all set before the Masters of the Universe arrive at the office. It's 07:05 when I walk in the door. Stephen grins and just says, "Subway?" "Don't ask, bro!" I reply, rolling my eyes. I didn't really need a bachelor's degree for my job. Jogging in the morning to stay in shape is more important. At the end of the day, I usually have 15K steps and 40 floors on my fitness tracker. And that's not usually the end of it. By the time I get home, Michael usually has a number of assistance activities for me. But hey, the address on the Upper Eastside sounds impressive, which I would never normally have been able to afford as a young professional. I'll even put up with the apartment on the first floor with a view of the backyard and the job as a temporary janitor.

Of course it's embarrassing to still live with my parents. But if I wanted to afford my own place, I'd probably have to move 200 miles away from Down Town. And I want to stay here. That's important to me. Also for financial reasons. The subway tickets alone would be too expensive if I had to travel further. I mean, the little bit of scholarship… And I don't earn much in the kitchen of the cafeteria. Stephen and Michael are good friends. If I didn't have them, I wouldn't make it. But they have good contacts. Stephen in the office, Michael at home. They always know someone who needs a massage with a happy ending. Or a greedy college boy face for a blowjob. The men are usually well-groomed. Too well-groomed, actually. That's why I always look forward to my part-time job as a trainer at the high school gym. If I'm lucky, I get to meet Brad and Chuck. I mean, they're not gay or anything. We never make eye contact. But I still get to blow them sometimes. Even though, of course, it's pathetic when you're a sophomore in college sucking high school seniors. But fuck, you won't find cheesier dicks with a more pronounced scent of musk and sweat anywhere!

Yo, have I even dropped my name yet? It's Janusz, 19 years young and repping as an exchange student up in the Big Apple. Just call me Jonny, keep it chill. Hailing straight outta a tiny village near Krakow, Poland, in case that detail tickles your pickle. Still wrapping my head around this English gig… But let me tell ya, my French game is on point, or so the bros claim. Thrilled to be out of the parental crib and living it up in this wild city. Dang, the possibilities here are endless! Senior year vibes, you know what I'm saying? And now that I joined the wrestling squad, it's like BOOM! More close body action in a week than I got in a year with the 'rents around! Truth bomb: I make most of my cash tagging along with my wingmen Brad and Chuck, the school heartthrobs. I'm like their trusty sidekick. It's lit! Hoping to snag an athletic scholarship next year, fingers crossed. Sure, these two golden boys ain't wrestlers (legends in the bedroom, though), but football studs. It'd be epic if we could keep the bromance alive in college. Purely platonic, of course. Or not… 🤷‍♂️

[addledmongoose]

Best of 2023 Good Omens Fanfiction

This is my list of the 20 best Good Omens fanfiction works I've read in 2023.

A few notes:

These are all complete works; there are no WIPs in the list.

Please feel free to let me know if a link stops working

It's not an ordered list. That would be far too difficult.

You'll probably recognize some of the most popular ones. They're popular for a reason, after all, but I hope you find something you haven't yet read.

The majority are full-length works, but there are definitely some shorter pieces.

These are certainly not the only good works I've read, but they are the ones I'm most likely to read more than once

Click the Keep Reading to see the list

If you're the author of one of these, first off, thank you! But second, if you want me to add your tumblr name to your story, let me know, and I'll edit.

This first section, all the stories are canon-compliant or canon-adjacent. In other words, it's at least somewhat set in the Good Omens universe.

a lighthouse (burning) (108K; Rated M)

This one is canon-adjacent and set in the 19th century. Aziraphale goes to a lighthouse to figure out where all the lighthouse keepers disappeared to, and Crowley follows along. This one is a bit of a spooky mystery along with the romance, and the writing style is simply beautiful. You really get a sense of being trapped in this lighthouse in the middle of nowhere.

***

The Grindr Logo Doesn't Even Have a 'G' In It (79K; Rated E)

It's honestly hard to remember that this one isn't human AU, but they're still just as angelic/demonic as ever. Aziraphale joins Grindr and starts texting (and then sexting) with a charming young man. It's no secret to the reader who this new hookup is. This story is genuinely funny at times. I like the funny ones.

***

The Whole Damned World Seemed Upside Down (103K; Rated M)

This is one of the best reverse omens stories I've read that isn't technically a reverse omens. Crowley wishes things were different after leaving the bookshop, and the universe gives him his wish. He finds himself in a world where Aziraphale hates him, Death has trouble taking lives, and basically everything you knew about the world of Good Omens is upside down. It's very funny. It uses inline footnotes (which is good, because it has a LOT of footnotes), and Death is hilarious.

***

it's a new craze (5K; Rated T)

Another one that seems like it should be human AU but isn't. Crowley and Aziraphale start up a podcast after the Notpocalypse and gain a loyal fanbase who can't figure out if they're a couple or not. They often forget who their audience is and often reference events in their shared history that make no sense to the humans listening.

***

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a demon in possession of a mobile phone, must be in want of attention (6K; Rated G)

And yes, that is the entire title. Another funny short story where a couple of podcast hosts receive a call from a certain angel whose demon trapped himself in his phone and won't leave.

***

In Mixed Company, or the Corporate Retreat of Heaven and Hell (52K; Rated M)

I've read this one at least three times, and it's probably my favorite of all. Every 300 years, Heaven and Hell share a company retreat on Earth during which angels and demons surrender their celestial powers and hold retreats. It has a great new angel friend of Aziraphale's; Hellish Powerpoint presentations; Gabriel being annoyingly chipper; and Aziraphale and Crowley sneaking around like teenagers trying to find some alone time.

***

How To Woo A Demon (24K; Rated T)

Aziraphale researches demonic courtship rituals and starts implementing them in order to convince Crowley he wants to take their relationship to the next level. Crowley is very confused by Aziraphale's actions. Another cute, funny one.

***

Factory Settings (107K; Rated T)

This one is famous for coming out practically as S2 dropped, making people think whoever wrote it (the author is anonymous) had something to do with the production of the show.

This is the only one I'm going to say anything negative about. There are a lot of spelling errors and typos in it. It needs a hard editing pass. Despite that complaint, I devoured this story as fast as I could scroll. It's that good, and even knowing all the errors are there, I'll probably still re-read it. I'm usually pretty picky about errors like that, so for me to overlook it and even recommend it, means I really liked it.

Crowley gets reinstated as the angel, Raphael, with no memory of his time as Crowley, and Aziraphale struggles to return him to his demonic self. It's heart-breaking and wonderful and I absolutely loved it.

***

One Night In Bangor (And the World's Your Oyster) (17K: Rated E)

Much like In Mixed Company, Heaven and Hell come together for a corporate retreat on Earth. In this one, some totally random demon who's name definitely doesn't rhyme with Bowley created a wager in Hell to see which demon could bed an angel first.

Another funny one. This time, a lot of the humor comes from the demons doing their best to pick up the angels with really bad pickup lines.

***

We Only Said Goodbye with Words, I Died A Hundred Times (9K; Rated E)

If I could learn to write even half as good as this, I'd be ecstatic. The emotions the author packs into this story are mind-blowing.

Crowley receives a cursed amulet that creates an ever-increasing need for the person he wants the most and goes to see Aziraphale.

***

To reveal my heart in ink (29K; Rated E)

Aziraphale starts writing letters to Crowley by mail. The letters they exchange slowly get more and more explicit.

***

Pray For Us, Icarus (66K; Rated G/T)

The author wrote this one as a series, so each one varies in chapter count and rating, but they tell a single, contiguous story.

This was the first long-form GO fanfiction I read, and it was way too close to the ending of S2. I really should've waited a while, because holy cow, is this one heartbreaking.

For three hundred years, Crowley has been reincarnated over and over as a human with no memory of his past. Aziraphale has spent those three hundred years trying to restore him to his true self.

The author, Atalan, is probably one of the best writers on the site. This story is stunning in the quality of its writing, in the pacing of the story, and in the emotions evoked. I normally don't like being sad (like I said, I like the funny ones), but I've saved this story off to make sure I always have it.

***

Pretend For Me (53K; Rated E)

In a panic, Aziraphale tells the archangels that he survived hellfire due to his soul mixing with Crowley's because they're in a romantic and sexual relationship, but now they want them to prove it.

I'm a sucker for fake relationship stories, and there aren't a whole lot of them where the characters are still angel/demon, but this one is. It's another fun one, though a bit more angsty than some of those I listed above.

***

The following are all human AU. Good chance you'll recognize all or most of these.

Married At First Sight (147K; Rated T)

One of the most recently completed stories in the list, this is a fake relationship story where Aziraphale and Crowley join a reality show that marries complete strangers off to each other. Their new marriage starts off on a less than idyllic foot and they decide to fake it for the show. The author is a master of making you want to scream "for fuck's sake, just talk to each other, you walnuts!"

Probably one of my favorite fake relationship stories.

***

Postcards From Paris (12K; Rated G)

The author, ghostrat (@mrghostrat), is a fantastic writer of human AU, and it's worth going through his entire backlist (and read his current WIPs, too).

Crowley moves into his Mayfair flat and starts receiving postcards addressed to the previous tenant from one A.Z.F., who is in Europe hunting for bizarre bibles and rating wine. Sweet and fluffy and the perfect antidote if you've just been on an angst binge.

***

Or Be Nice (151K; Rated E)

I stayed up until 6:30 in the morning reading this one, crashed for three hours, then read until I finished it. Then that night, I started it again.

This is, without hesitation, my all-time favorite human AU. It's funny. I love the author's version of the characters, and I will probably end up reading it again in just a few months. I probably already would have if it wasn't for the length of my Mark For Later and Subscription lists.

Crowley and Aziraphale are neighbors who get into a noise war. They both have their reasons for their actions, though to be honest, Crowley is a bit of an ass at first. Once they really start talking, though, they are absolutely wonderful together.

Even if you've never read a human AU, I recommend at least giving this one a try.

***

What We Make Of It (Shotgun Wedding) (213K; Rated E)

This is the third charlottemadison work on this list. 15% of this list is just this one author. That's how good they are.

Aziraphale works as an English teacher. Crowley is the guardian for his nephew, Adam, and works for a school testing company. Crowley can't risk his job dating his nephew's gorgeous and charming teacher. Unless...

Crowley comes up with a crazy plan. Now he just has to convince Aziraphale to go along with it.

Again, another very popular human AU. One thing I love about this story is how there's a lot less angst between the two characters, and how they both really care for Adam.

***

Slow Show (95K; Rated E)

The very first human AU I read. Didn't even think I'd like that specific genre until I read it. Now, as you can see, it's about half of my reading list.

This is an actor AU. Aziraphale (named Avery here) and Crowley are actors working together on a new show. Avery is an award-winning, straight-laced, well-respected actor; Crowley is a mess who immediately falls head-over-heels for him and somehow has to get through the show without letting his (apparently straight) costar realize that.

***

South Downs (76K; Rated E)

Another actor AU. This time, Aziraphale is an openly-gay actor, well-respected for his period drama work. Crowley is a once-blackballed actor who jumps at the chance to star in a gay Regency romance with Aziraphale in the hopes it can restart his career. The trouble is, Crowley is struggling to play the romantic lead opposite a man.

I love the growing friendship between these two as much as the romance. I love how comfortable and confident Aziraphale is here; and how caring he is toward Crowley's growing awareness of his sexuality.

***

This one doesn't really fit either category, so I'm putting it here.

The Rose and the Serpent (56K; Rated M)

By the same author as Pray For Us, Icarus comes a GO retelling of Beauty and the Beast. Aziraphale is sent off by his older brother, Gabriel, into the forest to be held hostage by a giant snake in a cursed castle. Turns out, neither the snake nor the castle are what he was expecting.

Light-hearted and with very memorable characters, the relationship between Crowley and Aziraphale is simply stunning. I love how Newt and Anathema are used here. The quality of this one is as good as Icarus, and I loved this one so much I could easily have read 300K more words.

***

And bonus: mine!

The Beginning of the End (Again) (79K; Rated M)

The first fanfiction I've ever written and the first book I've written in a decade. I had the first two chapters in mind after finishing S2, and the story grew from there. I actually have a sequel in mind after I finish another, separate fake relationship story.

Crowley spends months drowning his sorrows after Aziraphale accepts the Supreme Archangel position, until a group of demons shows up one day and tells him the Second Coming is nearly upon them, and they want him to stop it. Turns out being a demon isn't much fun if there are no humans left to tempt.

Aziraphale has spent these last months in Heaven looking for ways to stop the Second Coming while mourning the way he and Crowley left things. After discovering that Hell's minions have been tasked by the Metatron to escort the son of God on a tour of Earth in preparation for his Second Coming, he hurries down to see what's going on, fearing the worst.

Instead he discovers Crowley escorting the Messiah around Earth. Is his demon taking the son of God on dates?

[reasonsforhope]

Early mornings are chilly in Los Romero, a village high up in the mountains of western Guatemala. As in other predominantly Mam villages – Indigenous Maya people who have lived here since pre-Columbian times – households come quietly to life before dawn. Isabel Romero, a grandmother with long black hair, used to feel somewhat trapped in hers.

“I was afraid of speaking because I was cooped up at home. I didn’t go out,” she says, explaining that like many Mam women, her days were dedicated to the hard work of running a household with little money, and she rarely spoke with other women. “I worried a lot and had headaches.”

Residents of Los Romero live mainly from subsistence farming, growing maize, beans and squash, or grazing livestock. Almost 50% of the population is Indigenous in Guatemala, Central America’s biggest economy, but they do not share in its prosperity. Indigenous women in particular are discriminated against and dispossessed, with a life expectancy 13 years lower, and a maternal mortality rate two times higher, than the national average, according to the World Bank.

In Romero’s village and throughout the region, a community-based collective of women’s circles has been quietly improving Indigenous women’s lives, empowering them to find voices that have been suppressed through centuries of marginalisation.

It was a long process, but Romero’s headaches and fear are now a thing of the past. These days she gets out to workshops, meetings and women’s circles. She shares her knowledge of weaving traditional textiles on a backstrap loom and has a leadership role in the women’s group she co- founded: Buena Semilla (Good Seed).

The initiative emerged from Maya Mam women’s experiences, when French physician Anne Marie Chomat brought them together for interviews for her doctoral fieldwork in 2010- 2012. The simple act of gathering with others and sharing their experiences had a profound impact on the women, many of whom are still dealing with the traumatic legacy of Guatemala’s civil war.

During the 1960-1996 armed conflict between leftist guerrilla groups and the military, more than 200,000 people were killed, overwhelmingly Indigenous Maya civilians killed by the army. Another 45,000 were ‘disappeared’. A truth commission concluded that the state committed acts of genocide...

“There’s so much chronic stress and other issues that are not being addressed,” says Chomat, Buena Semilla’s international coordinator, who now lives in Canada. “So much healing happened in that space of women connecting with other women, getting out of their houses, realising: ‘I’m not alone’.”

Once Chomat’s fieldwork was finalised, several participants decided they wanted to continue meeting and with Chomat came up with the idea of women’s circles. With the help of a grant, the project got going in 2013 and now more than 300 women in two municipalities participate every week or two in circles, each comprising roughly 10 to 25 women.

Wearing traditional embroidered huipil blouses and hand-loomed skirts, the women gather, arriving on foot via the dirt roads that weave through the villages. They meet in a home or community building, or outside when they can for the connection with nature. The circle opens with a welcome and a prayer and then the group engages in breathing and movement exercises. Next up is discussion of the nahual, the day’s name and energy according to one of the interlocking ancient Mayan calendars, traditionally used for ceremonial practices. “Here in Santiago Atitlán it is only maybe 20% of people who speak about [knowledge of nahuals], so we are reviving it,” says Quiejú.

Then it’s time for the sharing circle. “More than anything, it is speaking what they have in their hearts,” says Quiejú. But every time and each circle is different, even though the leaders all work from the same guide, she says.

Sometimes circles will have a guided meditation. Sometimes they’ll have a workshop to learn weaving, or another skill that can help them earn money. Sometimes they eat together. Sometimes they cry. Often they laugh. No matter what, they generally end with a group embrace...

Only 1% of Guatemala’s national health budget is designated for mental health, and nearly all of that goes to the country’s one psychiatric hospital. Most mental health professionals are concentrated in the capital, offering psychotherapy and prescribing medications. For those in rural areas, there is little discussion of mental health or access to services.

“There is nothing for the preventative side, to work with families, to work with communities,” says Garavito. However, he emphasised that the concept of buen vivir (good living) among many Indigenous peoples in Latin America, which includes the traditional festivities, ceremonies and community of everyday village life, inherently incorporates good mental health. “Mental health is a fundamentally social concept and that has been a historical and common practice among Indigenous peoples, without them calling it that.”

...Financial constraints also pose challenges. Since 2020, Buena Semilla’s budget has been funded through crowdfunding and small grants. Staff and leaders all work part-time and many volunteer unpaid, but most circles now meet bi-weekly due to a squeeze on funds...

[Note: If you'd like to help, you can find out more and support Buena Semilla here, at their website.]

Despite the challenges, interest keeps growing. Elsa Cortez joined a circle earlier this year, motivated by her sister’s positive experience with Buena Semilla. In her mid-20s, she lives with her parents and as well as helping to run the household, she weaves belts, drawing from a basket full of spools of brightly coloured thread. She did not go out much before.

“There was a mentality that women were only supposed to be in the home or should only do certain things. That’s how we were raised,” she says. “My family was like that too.”

Thanks to Buena Semilla, those dynamics have started to shift in some families, including her own, says Cortez. Now she is exploring the idea of starting a circle specifically for girls, to help build their self-worth and self-esteem.

“It used to be difficult for me to socialise or chat, but now I am starting to socialise more easily,” says Cortez. “In the group I feel like it is psychological therapy every time we meet.”

-via Positive.News, December 8, 2023

[murdockbarnes]

you'll have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

pairing: eloise bridgerton x fem!reader

summary: eloise bridgerton has successfully chased away a flurry of lady's maids. has she finally met her match?

wordcount: almost 3k

warnings: fluff, angst, no happy ending. 18+ minors do not interact. nothing explicit, but still.

A/N: eloise is aged up in this, around 24. partly inspired by this gorgeous artwork and good luck babe by chappell roan.

i try not use y/n in my fics but i started writing this over two years ago and a good chunk of it was already written using y/n, so i am just too lazy to change it now. sorry it that bothers anyone! any feedback would be greatly appreciated. have a great day!

*not edited, all mistakes are mine*

viscount bridgerton was worried. a slew of lady's maids and none were strong willed enough to deal with his storm of a younger sister, eloise. of course, he loved her passion dearly, just not so much when it felt like he had to look for a new lady's maid every other week. the last lady's maid lasted two days. anthony just hoped the new one would last a little longer.

eloise was proud of herself - she had just broken her personal record: two days. in the years since she had made her debut, she had driven away at least 20 lady's maids each year. it wasn't that she enjoyed tormenting them, it was just that she hated society's expectations of her and her sex. she hated the lady's maids on principal, it was nothing personal, even though they did make her life easier. she had thought that anthony would finally give up, so imagine her surprise when she went down to the drawing room only to find her mother sitting with whom she guessed was to be her new lady's maid.

"you must be joking" eloise scoffed.

"eloise-" violet began.

"quite the contrary, ma'am," you began as eloise's eyes once again slid over to yours. "i am to be your new lady's maid. my name is y/n y/l/n."

"don't bother getting too comfortable, miss y/l/n" eloise flashed you a sugary sweet smile before turning on her heel and departing.

the next few weeks saw you exhausted, as eloise did everything in her power to vex you enough to make you quit. but you were determined. each night, after whatever ordeal she had put you through for the day, whether it be going shopping and swiftly disappearing into the crowd, sending you up and down multiple flights of stairs to look for something she had with her all along, or whatever torture she thought of that day, you would smile brightly at her before departing for the night.

that night, right before you closed the doors to her room, you saw her crack, saw her frown. eloise was understandably confused. you should have given up by now, you should have broken and quit. yet, here you were two months into this arrangement. the longest yet. to be really quite honest, eloise was running out of ideas to scare you off.

another ball passed with more judgement from the mamas of the ton. eloise could feel their eyes burning into her back like the power of a thousand suns. she was just exhausted of this constant routine and wished she could escape. and she wanted this blasted dress off her.

you started unlacing the back of the dress, your fingers accidentally brushing her soft skin, goosebumps appearing in their wake. as you brush her hair and see eloise's reflection in the mirror, a prominent frown between her brows, you realise this ball must have taken more of a toll on her for her to be so docile with you. you blow out all candles save one, and even when you exit, eloise is deep in thought in front of the mirror.

hyacinth was debuting this season, and violet swears the effort to find both hyacinth and eloise husbands is taking years off her life. she loves how fierce and passionate her daughters are, but she wished it was easier to find them husbands, as at the end of the day she wants to see them happy with their own little family.

eloise is forced out to promenade with hyacinth, and as always, her lady's maid is to be her shadow. eloise is perturbed to see her so unbothered by her antics. when she crosses the street boldly in front of an oncoming carriage, so does she. when she takes a detour and leaves hyacinth and her own lady's maid behind, she follows. as she looks over her shoulder to see her walking a few paces behind, her foot hits the stump of a tree and she goes tumbling down.

the pain radiates up eloise's leg, and she feels hands on her in seconds. the next moments are a blur and eloise does not remember how she finds herself in her bed, a physician standing at the end of her bed claiming a broken foot, and her mother and youngest sister fretting over her.

"i'm afraid the foot is broken, lady bridgerton," the physician finishes his examination and wraps her foot in a bandage.

"how long will it take to heal, doctor?" violet asks worriedly.

"two to three months, my lady. possibly even more, depending on the severity."

"she'll miss the entirety of the season! maybe even more. can nothing be done?" violet queries. eloise, on the other hand, feels as though her wish of an escape has actually been granted.

"i'm afraid not, she must try to keep her weight off of it as much as she can. there is not much else that can be done, it will take time. maybe the countryside and fresh air will help, away from the busyness of the ton and the social season."

violet does not miss the way her daughter's face lights up. eloise, sensing her mother is about to refuse, speaks up.

"please, mama, i promise i'll be good. i'd be bored to death here anyway. at least at aubrey hall i'd get to enjoy the library." eloise can see the hesitation on violet's face, but she can see the moment she relents.

"alright, but your y/n is going with you."

eloise's smile drops but she knows arguing will just result in her stuck in london. so she agrees ruefully.

it's just you and eloise in the carriage on the way to aubrey hall, the rest of the bridgertons busy with the social season. you help eloise to her room, making sure she is comfortable before leaving to go make arrangements for dinner.

the short walk up the stairs to eloise's room that she insisted on staying in took a lot more out of her than she expected. her foot really was in a bad condition, that was true, but not bad enough that she would need to supervised at night too, she thought.

she's just settled into bed with a book after you helped her get ready for bed after dinner, when you walk into the room again, this time in a nightgown of your own, and a thin rolled up mattress, pillow, and sheets in hand.

"i'll be fine for the night, you can go," eloise says, briefly looking up from her book, slightly irritated.

"i'm sorry, miss bridgerton," you begin, already setting up your sleeping area for the night. "but i'm under strict instructions from the dowager viscountess and the viscount. i am to constantly be by your side, should you need anything, and that means sleeping in the same room as you."

you see as the irritation begins to bleed into her face, brows closer together, a slight frown on her lips.

"can't you just tell them you did and not actually sleep here? i'd quite like some privacy."

"my apologies, miss bridgerton, but i can't. i take my job and my duties to you and your family very seriously. i wouldn't do anything to jeopardise the trust your mother and brother have placed in me."

"i do not care about any of that! i just want a moment's peace from you!" eloise bursts out, red splotches high on her face. she makes a move to get out of bed but the pain in her leg flares up. within seconds, you are by her side, warm, gentle hands carefully positioning her foot back on the pillow.

"i'm afraid i have to disappoint you, miss. but i'm here to stay."

days in the countryside slipped into a routine. you would wake up first, prepare breakfast for eloise, along with a book. you'd get her ready for the day, and then station her by the large windows, refuse her when she wanted to walk around, and help her should she rebel anyways.

you confused eloise. why had you still not budged? and despite your stubborn moments, why did you always otherwise treat her with gentleness? here, in the countryside with less people around, she had seen you smile more. your hair was in a slightly looser updo, and your usual uniform not as strict. more than a few times, eloise found herself looking much too closely at you.

last night for instance, when you came back with your bedding after getting eloise ready for bed, in a thin, worn shift that hung loosely off your frame. the fire illuminated your silhouette through the thin shift as you stood facing it, getting ready for bed. eloise found her concentration completely off her book, a funny feeling in her chest. she could feel her cheeks heating up and her heart beating faster. she had never felt like this before, this flustered. she only prayed the candlelight was dim enough for you to be unable to make out the blush she was sure was on her face.

it confused her even further. being the analytical person she was, she read into every look, every touch. did she leave you as flustered as you did her? did you also feel this shortness of breath, this disappearing heartbeat?

she feels your fingers gently run through her scalp. everything feels different since that night. she can't help but try to look for clues, discern your expressions, your emotions, feelings. did you also feel this foreign feeling? she had bathed with the help of many a ladies' maids, but why does it suddenly feel so intimate? as though baring her unclothed body to you was akin to baring her heart out flat? the thought terrified and thrilled her at the same time, that you might truly see her, understand her and her feelings better than anyone.

the lukewarm water trickles down eloise's back as you gently move her hair and run the washcloth over her shoulders. you're kneeling by the bathtub, steadfastly refusing to make eye contact with eloise even though you feel her eyes on you. you switch to focus on washing her legs next, taking precaution to be extra gentle with her healing foot. your mind has just drifted to the thought about how intimate giving a simple bath to your employer can be if you harbour specific feelings for them, when eloise's hand, warm from the bath, wraps around your wrist. you finally make eye contact, and the desperation and emotions you find in her eyes knocks the breath out of you.

warm, wet hands cup your face gently, and you feel drawn to wherever they are pulling you to. you wait with bated breath, afraid that she'll stop, afraid that you would stop feeling her breath on your face, noses a hair's width apart. instinctively, your eyes close, and then you feel the softest pair of lips you've ever felt on yours. the perfume from her bathwater clouds your senses as her lips run over yours a little clumsily, but the hunger in the kiss makes up for it. you have never felt this kind of unadulterated desire in any other kiss before.

you kiss back with the same amount of hunger, tongue running over the seam of her lips, silently asking her to grant you permission, and she does. your fingers sink into damp hair, the feel of which you know all too well, as hers map the curves of your face and neck, and dare to go lower. a finger runs against your collarbone, taking advantage of the first few buttons undone and splaying against your sternum. you let her pull you into the bath with her, uncaring of your dress getting wet. when she further unbuttons your dress, you don't protest, letting her hands explore.

when you pull away after what feels like hours, there is a soft smile on her face, unlike her usual smirk, blush high on her cheeks and lips swollen, hair damp and skin glowing under the lamplight. you have seen her in many situations but you think she has never looked more divine.

things change between you after that. stolen kisses and casual touches behind closed doors, not a moment out of eloise's bed at night, going to sleep with the feel of her lips on yours, her taste still in your mouth. eloise grows more confident with her touches, no longer hesitant to mess up your appearance during your stolen moments, her hands slipping beneath the hem of your shift. as her foot heals little by little, she shows you further into the estate, taking any chance she can to leave your lips swollen and your cheeks hot. everything is so picture perfect that you are afraid of the bubble bursting when you do have to inevitably return back to ton.

and, inevitably as predicted, it does. the season ends with eloise's foot still on the mend, but her family's return to the countryside, while she finds that a joyous prospect, means distance between you both. still, it's not bad, you two still get to spend most of your time together, and you both master the art of stolen moments. it is not until the next season rolls around that the bubble is well and truly shattered.

a suitor starts pursuing eloise earnestly, and eloise doesn't seem entirely opposed to the idea. you know she was still trying to get over penelope's marriage to her brother, and the end to their future plans of spinsterhood. the spiral it sent her on had caused a rift between the both of you, but there was nothing you could do to bridge the distance, no matter how hard you tried; eloise had retired to her thoughts ever since.

eloise spent less time with you, and you found yourself spending more time with her footman, john, in an effort to distract yourself when thoughts of eloise consumed you entirely. john was a good man, he made you laugh and forget your problems with eloise, if only for a moment.

eloise walks into the drawing room and finds her mother and you, so reminiscent of that first day. instead of irritation or apprehension this time, her chest fills with knots. she hasn't spoken to you properly or spent time with you in weeks. she was too preoccupied in her own thoughts and refused to let you in. you won't meet her eyes now and the heavy feeling keeps growing heavier. you feel worlds apart. she never meant for the distance to happen.

"oh, eloise dear, come here," violet exclaims. "oh this is most wonderful news. y/n is getting married!"

"i- what?" shock colours eloise's voice. "to whom?"

"to footman john. now don't be impolite, eloise, isn't it just marvelous news?"

"yes, marvelous indeed." she chokes on the words, the fear of losing you coming to life. she was so scared, preoccupied with wallowing in her spinsterhood without pen, that she pushed you away. she feels her throat start to close up. "excuse me, mama, i just remembered i have to do something."

you watch with worried eyes as eloise departs, and follow after her, seeing if she needs anything. after all, that is what your job is, and it was stupid of you to think you that your relationship with her, whatever it may have been, could ever amount to anything more.

when you walk into her room, you see eloise pacing around, clutching her chest, tears streaming down her face.

"i do not want to see you right now." hurt colours her tone.

"eloise, i-"

"you do not get to call me that! you do not get to shatter my heart and then call me that."

"what do you want me to do, eloise? you cannot expect me to sit around waiting for you while you search for a suitor for yourself." you burst out, tears of your own now making a path down your cheeks. "you can't expect me to chaperone your promenades with suitors, bear that hurt. you cannot expect that of me. not when you don't want to give us a chance, not when you don't want to give us a future."

"i- that is not true."

"if that is not true, then tell me what i am to you. tell me that you are not considering marriage with any of your suitors. how long will you keep denying yourself love, deny what you and i are? marrying any of these men will not solve anything, even though i know you think it will. i love you, eloise, i gave my entire heart to you. can you say it back?" you have moved closer to her, eyes pleading with her to respond.

but she doesn't, turns away from you. "i can't, you know i can't."

you never thought words could hurt this much. the sting of tears is still fresh when you see eloise for the last time. "then this is goodbye, eloise. i hope you manage to find happiness."

when sir phillip kisses her at the altar, her mind drifts to her last kiss, a few years ago now. the ghost of soft lips on hers, feathering light kisses across her cheekbones and eyes, of lips curving into a gentle smile against hers. she feels the wrongness of this one, the stubble rubbing against her chin, slightly rough lips. but she'll drown herself on it nonetheless, choke on it until it erases her memories from her mind, takes with it that fateful final day. she can't turn back time, so she'll settle for this, the ghost of a soft kiss and gentle arms around her.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Would you be willing to write future ROTTMNT leo nsfw..? Maybe after a mission or smth

New Supplies And Shower Moments (Fluff) (18+)

Future!Leonardo x reader

A/N: Of course I will! That old man lives rent free in my head. I’m actually surprised that I haven’t written anything for him before now. Dude could get it fr💙 Don't mind the strange ass title, I didn't know what to call this😂

Reader and Leo are in their mid to late 20’s. Takes place before Leo lost his arm, and the others died.

Warnings: Takes place during future Kraang invasion (almost no Kraang), shower sex, unprotected sex, orale - male receiving, standing doggy style.

The silence was loud in the darkness, with the smack of the metal latch ringing through Leo’s head, slowly disappearing with each of his heavy breaths, the bag of supplies hanging on his shoulder. And in the safety of the hidden bunker, Leo finally allowed himself to let his shoulder slump, letting him support himself on his knees, head spinning as he panted. Another successful supply search, with very few close calls with the Kraang.

Leo finally made his way down the stairs, making sure to lock every door behind him, descending further and further down, until he finally came to the door, with the familiar symbol of Donnie’s tech. It was a sight of comfort whenever Leo came this far. A reminder that he made it once again. A reminder that all of you would eat for another night.

Pushing the door open, Leo was pleased to find you curled up on an old comfy chair, not far from the door Leo just had stepped though, fast asleep. It warmed Leo’s heart, bringing a smile on to his tired face. Once again, you had waited for him to return to the lair, not leaving until you knew he was okay.

Leo took a moment to take in the features of your sleeping face, before going to the disheveled kitchen in order to drop off the newly gathered supplies. He then made his way back to you, and crouched down in front of the chair, still somehow managing to tower over you. With a soft smile, Leo reached a hand out for your face, before pushing a few strands of your hair back behind your ear. This caused you to stir ever so slightly in your sleep, one of your smaller hands reaching out for his, before pressing it against your cheek.

Leo chuckled, his thumb stroking your cheek as a small smile spread across your face. You opened your eyes, your beautiful orbs meeting Leo’s, showcasing the strong love you still had for him after all these years. All these years and all these horrific events, yet you were still very much in love with Neon Leon.

“Hey there, Sleeping Beauty”, Leo whispered, not wishing to wake up any other inhabitants of the lair.

“Hey”, you smiled, your small fingers wrapping around Leo’s much larger hand, the sight and feeling making Leo’s heart flutter. “Took you long enough”.

“Sorry, but a Kraang had decided to take a break in the middle of my usual route. Maybe I should just have asked it to move”, Leo said sarcastically with a glint in his eye.

“Maybe you should have”, you giggled, letting your hand run down Leo’s arm, feeling his muscles and the lair of sand on his skin. “You’re a little dusty”.

“Well, it’s like a sandstorm up there”, Leo said, watching your hand move over his arm, a shiver running down his back. But you were right. He was down right dirty, with dry sand in every winkle of his skin. It was actually quite irritating. Somehow he had not noticed it, blaming it on his survival instinct and adrenaline keeping him going on the world above, not becoming noticeable before allowing himself to feel safe and comfortable in your presence. “Maybe I should take a shower”.

“Sounds like a good idea”, you smiled, becoming more and more awake by each passing moment. “And now that you mention it”, you continued, sitting up so that you could stand. “I could use a shower too”.

Leo let out a hearty laugh, quickly quieting down, once he remembered his brothers and young Casey, sleeping in the rooms not so far away.

“Are you asking to shower with me?”, he asked, standing to his full height, standing tall over you. Yet your smile did not falter, and so you reached out for his hand once more, taking it in yours.

“Of course. Saving water while getting some eye candy. Sounds like an amazing idea”, you smiled.

And so, you and Leo made your way to the bathroom at the end of the hall, passing by all the rooms. In here, you and Leo did quick work of your clothing, turning on the water, waiting for just a few seconds, before stepping in. The luxury of waiting for the water to get warm, was not one you could afford in the lair these days. And just like showering had become a luxury, so had alone time between you and Leo got harder to come by. With your life having become a game of survival everyday, it was hard to find time to focus on your relationship, often having to give up on these sweet moments, for the benefits of all in the lair. And so, these times where you would try to save water together, turned into short moments of intense passion. So the moment you stepped into the shower with Leo, his large frame wrapped around you, pulling you in for a needy kiss, letting go of all emotions that had built up, ever since the last time you had been together - which had been too long ago.

You and Leo’s tongues clashed together, as the still cold water rained down your naked bodies, causing you to jump against Leo’s plastron with a small sound at the coldness. This made Leo chuckle against your lips, while his hands started wandering down from your waist to your ass cheeks, before grabbing both, kneading them in his hands, pushing your hips together in the move.

You placed your hand on Leo’s plastron, slowly moving them down over the hard surface, drawing a deep churr from deep within, causing the excitement to grow between your legs, as your fingers continued to move downwards. Leo’s breath hitched when one of your fingers graced the top of his cloaca, his fingers digging into your soft cheeks.

As your lips continued to move together, you let your index finger glide over the slit of Leo’s cloaca, enjoying the small shiver that ran through his body. One of his hands left your ass cheek, settling on your chest, where he started to roll your hard nipple between his fingers, making you sigh in delight against his lips. Coating your finger in the slick that was building up at his entrance, you slowly pushed your finger in, drawing a low moan from your boyfriend as he pulled from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, so he could watch your hands work on each other.

Leo spurred you on as your finger moved faster against him, drawing him closer and closer to his drop, murmuring sweet and dirty nothings while the water slowly turned warmer and warmer. However, it didn’t take long before Leo’s long thick shaft emerged from within him, dropping discreetly into the palm of your hand, drafting the size of your hand and fingers.

Biting your lip, you gave Leo a few tucks, before slowly getting down on your knees, making Leo moan at the feeling and sight, anticipation growing as he knew what you were intending to do.

On your knees, you wrapped your hands around Leo’s big and proud member, looking up at him through your eyelashes, slowly letting the tip of his spongy head. Leo groaned at the connection of your tongue with the tip of his shaft. Leaning over you, resting his head and forearm against the shower wall, he shelled you from the falling water, letting it fall against his shell, getting a better look of your wet form, and the curve of your lips as you started kissing up and down his length.

Leo enjoyed your soft torture for a moment, closing his eyes so he could get lost in the feeling of your lips moving along his sides, before you finally opened your mouth, taking as much of him as you could fit, into your mouth, using your hands to cover the rest of him.

“Fuck, babe”, Leo moaned in a low voice, as you started to bob your head with hallowed out cheeks, sending excitement straight to your core. “I fucking love your mouth, (Y/N)”. You answered this comment by speeding up your process, drawing another moan from your towering boyfriend. Leo’s other hand came to rest on your head, stroking your hair, pulling slightly on it when his head started hitting the back of your throat.

Panting with his short tail whipping around in excitement, feeling his high inching closer and closer, Leo grabbed a soft hold on your head, before thrusting into your mouth, his head spinning at the vibration of you moaning around him.

“I’m getting close, (Y/N)”, Leo said, his voice strained by his upcoming orgasm. “I’m gonna cum in your mouth. Fuck! I’m gonna cum in your mouth”.

And so, when Leo came with a loud outdrawn mouth, you swallowed every drop that he delivered, not letting anything go to waste. Once you were sure that you had gotten it all, you let go of Leo, pulling the head of his member out of his mouth with a small pop, before smiling sweetly up at him.

Leo’s strong hands pulled you up so that you were standing on your feet, before crashing his lips to yours once more, moaning when he could still taste himself on your lips.

Hungry sounds came from the two of you, as your hands moved around, and felt each other up with an eagerness, all while the shower water made your skin smooth and slick.

Leo pulled from the heavy kiss, breathing heavily in order to catch his breath. It was amazing how a make out session with you, could get his blood pumping like that.

“Turn around, babe”, Leo said in a deep raspy voice, his eyes hooded and filled with lust as he watched you, making sure to give your ass a small smack as you turned around, facing the shower wall, making you jump with a small sound.

Resting your hands on the cold tile wall, leaning forward so that you were pushing your behind up against Leo’s cloaca and his still hard member, you shot him a smile over your shoulder. A smile that caused a grumble to erupt from deep within Leo’s chest. With one hand he lifted one of your legs to the side, giving him the space he needed to press his member and cloaca up against you, his plastron coming to rest against your back, and his lips pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear. You were about to turn, so that you could capture Leo’s lips with your own, but instead you were met by his beautiful eyes, along with the feeling of his member being pushed in between you slick and needy folds. Keeping your eyes locked with Leo, your mouth turned into an open gasp, letting out a moan as he stretched you out, a very slight pain stinging when he pushed in, but very soon turning into pleasure, as he pulled halfway out, only to thrust into you again.

With each thrust, you were pushed up against the cold tile wall, your nipples hardening even further, with your mind already growing hazy at the pleasure Leo brought upon you. If it wasn’t for the arm holding your leg up, and the other one wrapped around your waist, holding your hips firmly against Leo, you would have stumbled long ago.

Your cheek fell against the wall, with your mouth still wide open, and your eyes having a hard time focusing on anything other than Leo’s form over your shoulder. The way he gritted his teeth, pushed his brows together in concentration, and grunted with every hard increasingly hard thrust into you, feeling your walls growing tighter around him. You would not be lasting long if he continued like that.

You were not sure if it was a drool of water from the shower head above, that ran down your lower lip, chin and neck, or if it was your own slick that dripped down the insides of your thigh.

“Leo!”, you let out, finally feeling able to form words. The only word being the name of the man that was fucking you into what felt like heaven. Heaven in a shower stall.

“I know, babe”, Leo said, sounding as reassuring as possible, placing a kiss against your shoulder. “I can feel you. Let go, (Y/N). Cum for me, babe”.

You could not describe it, but there was just something about the way Leo would reassure and speak sweetly to you, while fucking your brains out. Sometimes it was a hard contrast, and sometimes it fitted perfectly together. But each and every time, it worked like a charm on you, bringing you that much closer to an orgasm with his penis stuffed inside you. And this time was no different.

With a high pitched cry of pleasure, you felt yourself letting go as Leo reached deep inside you, hitting that familiar place that brought pleasure throughout your body. Squishing your eyes shut, your walls closed in around Leo, making him moan as he felt his second orgasm make its way. Thrusting frantically into you, drawing out your orgasm while chasing his own, Leo finally came, unloading himself into you, his heavy breathing hitting your earlobe, making you shiver.

With Leo pulling out of you, you felt his warm white droplets run down your legs, showcasing the mess he had managed to create inside of you. With a small chuckle, Leo slowly get you leg down, letting you turn around on your wobbly feet, before pulling you close once more and placing a sweet kiss to your lips, enjoying the still fucked you look on your face.

“Now, let’s get you cleaned so we can go to bed”, Leo said, always letting one hand stay on you as he reached for the soap.

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

"Hello." A dull thwack sound reverberated across the rooftop, leaving the boy who snuck up on Red Robin clutching his head. The boy, a meta if the large animal ears and tail were anything to go by, shook off the pain and pouted up at him, "What was that for?!"

The vigilante was unrepentant, holding his bo staff in a ready position, "You snuck up behind a vigilante at night. In Gotham."

"Okay," the meta conceded, still pouting. "You have a point there. Robin threw ninja stars at me when I tried to approach Batman."

That got Tims attention, "You tried to approach Batman? Was there something you needed?"

The kid suddenly got serious, "My mom went missing. I haven't been able to contact her for almost two weeks now."

Red pulled his arm closer to his face before he began typing on his wrist computer, "Can you tell me her name and date of birth?"

"Um." The other teen fidgetted with his tail a bit, "Okay, so...she's kinda Cheetah."

"...come again?"

"She's Cheetah. The...the supervillian."

Red Robin stared at him, and honestly who could blame him? The bats hadn't even known Cheetah had a son. "So why are you in Gotham? Why not ask Wonder Woman for help? Cheetahs one of her rogues not ours."

The teen shook his head, "She went to meet someone in Gotham before she disappeared. She seemed really agitated before she left, almost scared. I've never seen her like that before." He paused, giving the vigilante time to type before continuing, "I didn't go Wonder Woman since I figured I would wind up needing to talk to a bat anyway since its your turf and all." He said, waving a hand as if gesturing to the city around them.

"I wasn't aware Cheetah had a kid."

The meta grimaced, "she didn't until a year ago."

Red gave him a look, as if urging him to go on.

The meta chuffed, sounding a lot like whatever big cat he was supposed to be, "I'll only tell you my tragic backstory if you promise to help me find my mom."

"I'll find your mom." The bird said without an ounce of hesitation. Tim was a little offended. Did this guy think he was going to leave his mom in danger just because she was a criminal? Appearently so, seeing as the teen looked so relieved at his words.

"Okay, so my bio parents were evil mad scientists. Always a bad start, anyway they were obsessed with the occult and one day they suddenly took me and my sister to Brazil to hunt for some artifact of another. That alone was strange but weirder still was the fact my creepy godfather was paying for it all. He usually only does something like that when he's plotting "

"Plotting?" The detective interjected, "you make it sound like he does that often."

"Yeah. Hes a supervillian." The meta said casually, as if he didn't just leave Tim reeling, but the kid wasn't done yet, "He's had a massive crush on my bio mom since collage and never let it go no matter how many times she rejected him. She even married my dad, his best friend, and this dude just kept simping for 20 years." The teen rolled his eyes, "Hes convinced himself that if he murders my bio dad then my bio mom will fall in love with him and me and jazz will be "his"." He said that last part with fingerqoutes and a disgusted expression.

Tim filed that away for later, "Can I have his name, if nothing else?"

The teen seemed reluctant for a moment, "You're the worlds greatest detectives. You'll find out even if i try to hide it. Besides, I'd probably be better off if you and the Justice League know everything anyway."

Tim was...surprised by that. Most people usually weren't this open with them.

"His name is Vlad Masters, he also goes by Plasmius when he's dressed like a wannabe vampire. He's a ghost who's repossessed his corpse. My parents are Jack and Maddie Fenton, who are obsessed with ghosts and have convinced themselves that all ghosts are evil and must be destroyed, regardless of how much evidence points to them being wrong."

"And your name?"

The meta grinned at him, showing off four very sharp fangs, reminiscent of the large cat he takes after, "You can call me Jaguar. We were exploring a bit when I broke off from my family and got jumped by one of them. Suddenly I was struck by a claw and turned into furry bait. Fluffy stopped trying to make me his lunch and just stared at me before walking away, which was wierd. Then my parents found me, accused me of being a ghost, because thats naturally what someone would assume when thier son sprouts cat ears," he said while rolling his eyes.

"Naturally." Red joked, which had the benefit of making Jaguar smile.

"So my parents chased me through the jungle, shooting all the while, then suddenly a portal opened up in front of me. I'm not stupid, I know there was no way this wasn't a trap. I mean, a portal opening up right after that bizarre series of events and its the same shade of glowing green as the wierd death go my parents are obsessed with? There's no way they weren't related somhow, but I was desperate and jumped through anyway."

"I landed in another jungle, or the same one in a different location, I'm not sure. I tried hunting and foraging but wasn't very successful at either." Danny still remembered the throbbed in his head when he had headbutt that tree after missing his pounce on that pig he had been stalking. "Thats when Cheetah found me. She took me in and taught me to hunt and fight."

-----

Possible plot twists:

1. Danny isnt Phantom in this au

2. Danny is Phantom in this au but is trying to leave that life behind

3. My favorite. Danny has the ability to manipulate and control animals into doing his bidding with the effect of jaguars and other big cats being the most prevalent and he just doesn't realize it.

One of Cheetahs friends/allies realizes cheetah has changed and suspected something and convinced her to leave for a while to see if her care for this kid faded after a while away from his presence. It works and Danny loses another parental figure/possibly attacked by them too.