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railingsofsorrow · 8 months

Text

Recharging. . .

[spencer reid x reader]

summary: spencer's best remedy is his little family.

pairing: s.reid x f!reader (+ eden reid!)

w.c: 3.8K

warnings/content: fluff; cuteness overload; children; spencer is a girl's dad; discussion of a case; mentions of death and traumatic events; this is basically a hurt/comfort blurb; mentions of pregnancy; mentions of marriage; crying.

A/N: is anybody in need of some fluff? this was supposed to be a short drabble.... enjoy this old WIP as I finish some of my requests.

loosely inspired by ocie elliott's take me home

want to read more works about this au?

→ day-off

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You stopped the low humming to the song as you eyed the rearview mirror to check on your kid. The familiar scratching against your seat warning you she was awake.

“Hey bub,” you take advantage of the red traffic light to dive your hand back and tickle her bare feet. She'd always kick off her shoes the first chance she got. Your favorite sound echoes through the car: her giggle. “You were just napping, where'd that energy come from?” you refer again to the tip of her feet bumping against your car seat. Another reminder that she was getting bigger every day.

Eden raised her arms, wriggling her little fingers like she did when she was excited for something. You were pretty sure she got that from Penelope, you always saw they do this whenever she came over to your place.

“We're visiting daddy!”

A laugh bubbles out of you. Eden left you amazed by her perception of things. Although the route from your apartment to the BAU wasn't that strange for her anymore, given that you and Spencer drove a lot to drop each other off with her in the car.

“Are we?” You turn on an avenue, humming. “I didn't notice.”

Eden looks at you through the rearview mirror, “but you're driving, mommy. You need the GPS. It's in your head.”

“Is it?” You're amused at your toddler's choice of words. “Okay. Yes, we're visiting daddy at work. We've come to pick him up because he's very tired from a case and it's not good to drive while you're tired, right?”

“Right!” She nods vehemently, craning her neck to check on the view through the window. “And he needs me to recharge his bats.”

You finish parking your car and a smile curls up the edges of your mouth. Eden can't say the word batteries so she shortened it to an easier version which is bats. You still have to teach her what the word actually means.

“That's right,” you say, taking off your seatbelt and opening the door. By the time you reach the backseat, Eden is grinning like the Cheshire cat. Her excitement never ceases to rub off on you, even though you enter this building most of the days in a week. “Hi, baby.” You cooed, welcoming your child in your arms after unbuckling her seatbelt. Her light brown curls that you have no idea who she got it from tickle the side of your face as she snuggles to your chest to stare at the tall FBI building.

“Shoes on. Coat on. All warmed up. Shall we go up?”

An eager Eden exclaims a loud YES and that's enough for you to start walking.

From “Spencer”:

[6:34 p.m] No need to pick me up, angel, I can drive. I am not that tired.

[6:35 p.m] Is Eden still at your mom's? I can pick her up on the way.

This is the mutual feeling you have on workdays. Not in a million years you'd understand how hard it was to be away from your daughter for more than one day. Until it happened.

It makes your heart break when you're not able to tuck her into bed or pick her up at school to see her excited little legs run towards you. In spite of the fact that Spencer and you manage well to alternate days at work so she always has one of you close by, it's difficult to not see her every day when a case takes either one of you out of the city.

You can only image how much he misses her after being away for four days.

You left the messages unanswered and click on another chat instead. Light of my life with a bunch of hearts is the one you're looking for. Penelope somehow stole your phone someday and changed her contact name to this; you never changed it back, just left as it was, it suits her anyway.

“Smile.” You request Eden as you lift your phone to take a selfie of the two of you. Her grin exposes her two missing front teeth. “Done.” You kiss her cheek and adjust her in your hold to type another text, waiting for the elevator to reach your desired floor.

To “Light of my life 💗❤️💕”

[6:38 p.m] incoming at five... four... three...

You hit send right as the elevator doors spread open.

Just as you step into the bullpen, it's as if a switch has flipped because your daughter promptly tucks her face into the croak of your neck, her cold nose making your shiver slightly. Her hands clinging onto your blouse.

Eden gets shy under watchful eyes, no matter how many times she visits the BAU.

Penelope is walking briskly out of her office, her hands wriggling into your direction as she catches sight of you and the bundle in your arms. Every eye in the bullpen turns to you because of the commotion.

You haven't seen your husband yet.

“There is pumpkin!” That's the reason that pulls Eden out of her shell. She practically throws herself out of your arms and into her favourite aunt's arms. “Oh, hello, hello, my beautiful niece, whom I have missed so much!”

Eden is giggling and you can't help but smile softly at the scene. Soon, your friends start approaching one by one. It doesn't take long for Eden to have at least two new toys in her hands. Emily and Derek are competing which one she likes best.

“She's so big.” JJ entwines her arm with yours.

You sigh, leaning closer to her, “Yes, she is.” You say, observing Eden play with Emily. “Henry as well! How is he by the way? We haven't had a playdate in so long.”

JJ nods, “He's great, my sweet boy.” Her eyes hold a fondness that you relate. “And that's true. We have to set up a date, catch up on things that aren't murders and blood.”

“Preach, Jayge.”

Your laughter dies down when the two people missing from the group appear. Your eyes met Spencer's and his whole body seems to relax as if it physically pained him to stand and seeing you just helped him take a breath of fresh air. Luke greeted you with a side hug and was immediately captured by Eden's endearing spell, as expected. Although, once Spencer entered her line of sight, no one else mattered.

Spencer let his satchel drop to the ground without a care so he could scoop Eden up as she jumped into his arms. His sullen demeanor converting into a cheerful one in a blink of an eye. This is what Eden means by “recharging”.

You watch the reunion with a growing smile, deciding to approach them a little later.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Spencer says while peppering kisses at her cheek, her little nose and her forehead. Eden could only reply with giggles as her whole face became red at the overwhelming love she's receiving. “Daddy missed you so much, did you know that?” And the crack in his voice goes unnoticed by her, but not by you, so you take advantage of everyone's distraction to step towards your little family.

Eden is giving her dad a butterfly kiss when you get to them. That's her way of saying I missed you to any of you when you come back home.

“Hey,” you squeeze his arm in a gentle touch, grabbing his attention. “Tough one?” your question is discreet, only meant for him. Eden is fortunately too busy with her new stuffed toy that Derek is showing her to notice anything else.

The dimmed spark in Spencer's eyes along with the red outline of his eyelids are everything you need to know. You don't need words — you never needed words to understand Spencer — but he provides you a meek yeah and swallows hard. The only thing that seems to be holding him back from crumbling down is the fact that he's holding his daughter.

In an attempt of comfort, you pull his free hand to yours, intertwining your fingers and giving it a tight squeeze. Just for him to know that you were there and it's okay now.

He repeats the action, the corner of his lips pulling slightly. His attention is quickly stolen back to Eden, who starts listing possible names to the new friends that uncle Derek and auntie Emily had gifted her.

They discuss the matter until you bid everyone goodbye, a playdate, a babysitting afternoon and a girls night out scheduled. Trying to take Eden from Spencer was foolish, he didn't want to let her go. No matter how tired he was. Better yet, she didn't want to let him go either.

“I think grapes would be a great name, E.” Spencer praises her daughter's naming skills as he buckled her up in the safety seat. “What about this one?” He grabs the green bunny and places it in front of his face, his voice in a high-pitched tone to imitate an animal's voice. “What will you name me after, miss Eden Reid? I am green and I like carrots!”

Eden's bright caramel eyes glint with joy and she pulls the bunny to her chest, holding it tightly. “I know what I'm going to call them.”

“You do?” You were starting to be curious as well.

“Mr. Greenie.”

“You're so clever.” Spencer and Eden shared accomplice smiles and you see everything of him in her at that single action. It was in the nose scrunch whenever she found something particularly funny, in the spark of mischief in her eyes and even the outline of her mouth which you never stopped noticing from the moment she was born. Eden carried a lot of mannerisms and features from you but those things? They definitely came from him.

He's not even halfway to the driver's side when you steal the keys that he had stolen from you when you were in the building. You've known each other for ten years, for three out of those ten you have been married and Spencer still thinks he can be slick with you.

“You're riding shotgun today, pretty boy.”

His eyes are filled with amusement as you walk by and give his butt a soft squeeze.

“Really?” He says, leaning on your window. You had already turned the engine on when you give him a serious look. “It's a long drive. You already drove all the way here.”

Giving him an eyeroll, you muse, “It's not that long, Spence. And you're tired. Just get in.”

Quantico wasn't far from your home, but ten minutes in the road was enough to send Eden to dreamland. You were certain she had fallen asleep when her humming to Angeleyes, that was playing on the car radio, stopped.

You suppose Spencer has fallen asleep as well, until you stole a glimpse at him during a red light to see he was just staring out the window. A far away gaze.

His mind was far. You could feel that. You two enjoy the silence but it's not like that. This is not the kind of silence you want to bask in after a tiring day of work. No, this is different. It comes with the type of things you face at work, the voices in your head that claim they know what's best.

You know that silence. You've drowned in it once.

A gentle breeze caused a few strands to slip out behind his ear. He was letting his hair grow longer again. You liked it, it suited him.

“Hey.”

Your knuckles grazed his cheek softly, tucking a piece of his hair behind his ear. Your hand lingered at the nape of his neck and he let out a sigh, leaning back in a way that you knew he needed that kind of touch.

Good thing your love language is physical touch.

“You want to talk to me about it?” A whisper.

Spencer refrained from a verbal answer, but he reached up for your hand, lifting it to his lips to place a prolonged kiss which translated to I'm glad to have you.

“Not now,” he said, caressing your palm. Definitely later then. Your communication can be non-verbal sometimes and that's one of the great parts of your relationship. You knew that some days words were hard, so the touch and the eyes fulfilled the void of a voice.

He gave it a delicate squeeze and that's when you realized the light had turned green, so your attention was back to driving.

At some point, you could feel a comforting weight at your right thigh. It was the familiar warmth of Spencer's hand, something that he liked to do whenever you drove. Good thing his love language is physical touch.

“I got her.” He practically leaped out of the vehicle once you parked, walking around the other side to get Eden.

Your asleep child didn't so much as flinch while being picked up. You caught her little arms embracing his neck as you locked the doors of your car, her shoes on your hand and Spencer's satchel on another. He tried to fight you on that but you just ignored him.

“Sleepy head,” you mouth to him as the elevator went up. Eden's big eyelashes fluttered lightly when you kissed the top of her head.

The corner of your husband's lips quirked up, “Just like her mother. Sleeps anywhere.” He said, not breaking eye contact, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Rolling your eyes, you hummed, “Don't know what you're talking about.”

The apartment was quiet, an unusual occurrence at this time of the day. Normally, Eden would be rambling about her day when one of you arrived from work — I learnt about seagulls today and we made a drawing; grandma made cookies!; Teacher Susan read a story about a princess saving her kingdom, I want to be like her someday. Isn't it like what you do, mama? I want to be like you — a range of subjects mixed with her occasional endless energy of a child. Some nights, she wouldn't stop running around until she tired herself — and both of you — off.

Today was different. She was asleep before you even arrived home, it was way before 8 p.m and the apartment was quiet, no toys scattered around, no ink stain on the floor. She was into painting nowadays which is a rather messy hobby for a kid, but you'd indulge your daughter's wishes anytime. She is a kid, she should be messy.

“I love you, bub.” Your ears pick up Spencer's faint voice from the entrance of Eden's bedroom. You perched up at the wall, careful enough to make yourself unknown. Not wanting to disturb the little father-daughter moment. “I'll always be here.”

That was something that didn't need to be said out loud because Spencer showed that every day. He didn't spare love demonstrations regarding you or Eden, he never had. Although you know part of the reason beneath that promise. Some people haunt us forever, even when they are no longer present in our lives. His father still walks somewhere in the corner of his mind, no matter how many times you tell him that he is not him.

“Is the whole bathroom drenched or...?”

Spencer chuckled, seeking for your hand to pull you closer as you stride to your bedroom.

“It wouldn't be Eden if she didn't make an entire spectacle during bath time.” He said. “But I cleaned it up, so don't worry.”

“That's true.” You eye his soaked shirt attempting to contain a smile. “Guess you already took your shower?”

“You're so funny,” Spencer murmurs dryly.

“Yeah, well,” you shrug nonchalantly, slowly encircling your arms around his neck. “Wasn't that why you married me? Or was it for my good looks? Nah, it was definitely my terrific sense of humour, wasn't it?” A peck on his lips. “You can admit it. I won't be mad.”

“Ego the size of a lake, that one.” He mumbles, burying his face in the croak of your neck and practically locked you in his hold.

You started to message on his shoulders to ease whatever felt heavy in his chest. At least, until he let you in.

It wasn't until after you both showered separately to finally call it a day and laid down to rest that he broke his silence.

“A little girl died. We couldn't get to her in time.”

Oh, kids.

Now it all made sense.

A shiver went down your spine at the thought.

“Oh, Spencer...” if the tone of your voice translated anything, it was that you understood. His body was entangled to yours when you tried to diminish a bit of his pain by showing that you were there. “I'm sorry, sweetheart,” you said into his curls. The moist sensation in your pajamas top let you know he was crying, but you didn't give it a second thought. It was what he needed.

“I could only think of her and I—” he said shakily, suddenly leaning away to cover his face. “Any rational thinking went down the drain.” His croaked out, drying his tears in the harshest way possible. You pulled his hands away from his face, replacing it with your softer touch.

“Spencer.”

“I can't even— even grasp my head around—”

You cut him off, “good. Don't do that. Because it's not real. Spencer,” you cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you so he could focus on something that wasn't the disruptives thoughts in his head. “Eden is here, in the room next to ours, safe and sound.” That seemed to calm him down lightly, but you could see the conflict in his gaze.

“I wasn't fast enough.”

“It was not your fault.”

“You weren't there.”

You sigh, “I don't need to physically be there to know that you, as well as the team, did your best to crack the case, Spencer. As you do in every other case we have.” The hardest part of this job was still the loss that you had to live with. The guilt. The shame that, despite doing your best, you wouldn't be able to save everyone. “As we always do.” Sometimes, you needed some convincing too.

“I know it's hard to believe what I'm saying,” you forehead was touching his and your eyes were shut. “but it's the truth. You have every reason to feel that way, it never gets easy to face what we face every day. But, Spencer. It was not your fault. You did what you could, please trust me on this, okay?” Please, don't blame yourself. You don't deserve it.

“Our little girl is right next door, sleeping with her favourite plushie. Safe. Because we make sure of that every single day.” You know it's not that simple, to not doubt the dangers that run in the world, probably in your street, but you can't live in fear and you don't want your daughter to live in fear either. “And I'm right here. we're not going anywhere.” You won't lose us.

“Yeah,” he croaks out, releasing a batted breath. “Yeah, I know.”

Slipping an arm around your middle to bring you closer was the indication you needed to understand that he was hearing your words. Your husband settled for accepting your warmth for the time being, you were playing with his curls, gently brushing them away from his face.

That's all he needed, really. You. The home and family you have build together. Nothing else.

“You know,” you say, thumb traveling across his jawline until it reached the tip of his nose. “People keep saying she has your nose and I think I'm starting to see it.”

His body shook with laughter, causing his eyes to crinkle slightly.

“Oh, really? You're starting to see it now?”

Your lips curled up at the edges, “Yes.” You lied, poking his ribs, earning a glare. Your smile only widened. “No. The nose is clearly yours.” He raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

Spencer leaned close enough so he could press his lips to yours.

“She has the outline of your mouth, though.” He tucked a strand behind your ear. “And your eyes.”

Soft padding against the floor pulled you out of your trance and you knew who was at the door before looking through the open space of the door that's been left ajar.

“Is that a ghost that I'm seeing, angel?”

You decided to enter Spencer's playful undertone.

“Mhm. Good question, I think that's definitely a squirrel or something. Look at the red and yellow paws.”

Eden's mismatched socks flashed your eyes in the dim light of your side table lamp. Her soft giggling made you smile instantly.

“What are you doing up, sweetheart?” She curled up to his bare chest as soon as he scooped her up to hold her on his hip. “Mhm?”

She grabbed both of his cheeks, forcing him to lean down so she could say something to him. You observed them with a curious gaze. “It's not a squirrel,” Eden whispered. Spencer's face broke out into a grin, “tell mama it's me.” Spencer nodded and dutifully did as asked.

“Oh!” You exclaimed, acting surprised. “It's you, bub? With these tiny socked feet, I almost didn't recognize.” Eden's shrieks as you pepper her whole face with kisses. “You want to sleep with mommy and daddy tonight?” It's your turn to whisper as if it's a secret, but it's loud enough for Spencer to hear it as well.

Eden nods shyly, resting her head on her dad's shoulder. Her feet wriggling lightly. Who could ever resist those sweet doe eyes?

The three of you then lay down in your bed, Eden engulfed between Spencer and you. Hopefully, she wouldn't kick and turn all night like she commonly did. She was sleeping through the entire night alone in her bedroom, though some nights — like today — she would sneak in to yours.

Just like you expected, the toddler fell into dreamland with your soft chatter about random things you did during the day and what you needed to do during the upcoming week. You cracked a smile at her slight parted lips and wild curls dispersed on your arm which her head was laid on.

“Thank you.”

Your attention drifts from a sleeping Eden to Spencer. His eyes carried their usual light again. They now glinted with a familiar pride rather than the heavy darkness it was drowning in earlier in the evening.

“What for?” Your whole demeanor softened at the way he was looking at you, heart swelling with love.

“This,” he says, eyes falling on Eden. “For this. Her. You.”

You blink, the sudden urge to cry is being hold back by a thread. You don't know how to react.

“You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.” And he's said that before. When you first confessed and he said he felt the same. In your wedding day. When Eden was born.

“And you are the best thing that's ever happened to me, Spencer.” You manage to whisper beneath the crack in your voice. He lifts his torso to kiss both of the single tears that slipped out of your eyelids, caressing your cheek lovingly. “I love you.”

“I love you too, angel.” His mouth stretches into a soft grin. “And I love the life we have built.”

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taglist: @lilyviolets

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A/N: will never forgive the show for not making this man a dad.

#spencer reid fanfiction #reader insert #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff #thinking of making this a series #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds imagine

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makelemonade · 19 days

Note

straight horny to your request, so basically arranged mirage with neuvillette and wriothesley (separately) BUT! they gain baby fever 😋 write anything you have in mind, thank you 🫡

arranged marriage + baby fever

wrio, Neuvillette - fem + AFAB reader

I suck at titles LOL and it’s kinda short I am so sorry 🙏🏽 this is my first time writing baby fever idk if I did good but WHATEVA

Wriothesley

- I won’t lie to you…I barely know his character LOL uhm…

-like I’m at the part in the archon quest where we just met him

-so I hope this is like…okay

-I’d assume that Neuvillette maybe put you two together, seemingly as a duke needed his duchess. After all his complaining about being an independent man he finally agrees to the marriage.

-at first he’s not really fond of you. Sure, he’s nice to you, but don’t see it as anyrbing more. He still has a job to do.

-but then he really takes into consideration just how sweet you are for him- you’re so obedient and it starts to drive him crazy

-you always have his tea ready for him and he can’t lie when it comes to the fact that maybe he is starting to like you

-and god the way you know how to massage him, whether it be his back, arms, legs, neck- it fucking drives him crazy

-so naturally you start to massage his dick too.

-he loves to make love to you and fuck you- yes they are two completely different things to him. he babbles about how grateful he is to have such a slutty and obedient wife like you

-he LOVES to call you “my wife” when he fucks you, and he loves to think back to when he was so against it and he’ll slap himself because who would not want such a good wife like you?!?

-it means your his, and he loves it.

-what drives him absolutely insane is when he sees you with Sigewinne; you’re so caring, attentative and always so helpful to her that he starts to let his mind wander

-he thinks you’ll look cute with a swollen belly, one he can rub everyday. He imagines what your kids will look like- will they act like you? have your eyes? his hair?

-he needed to fuck a baby into you, and stat.

-he will waste no time in dragging you away to his office or really anywhere in the fortress to breed you…!

“fuuuck baby,” He drawls out his groan, hiking your legs further up his shoulder while also pushing them down as your pushed deeper into his desk.

“so- so goddamn cute, agh! helping Sigewinne and being such a good mommy…”

“Nghh~ oh! Wr-wrio!” You gasp when you feel hot ropes of his cum begin to fill you up, and he makes no move to stop.

He watched the way your tits bounced as he fucked into you, and he moved one hand up to grope at them, imaging how swollen they’d be later in the future, and how he’d get to massage them for you…

“Gonna fuck a baby into you, sweetheart! Needa fill you up…breed you! and you won’t waste anything. Right, you’ll be my good wife…”

Neuvillette

-MY MANNNNNNNNNN

-okay I’d imagine that Furina def arranged this marriage and let me tell u he was NOT AGAINST IT

-why would he be?!? you were gorgeous, adorable, kind, sweet- everything he’d ever imagine for his beloved to be so of course naturally he’s gonna develop these feelings for you

-he watches how you treat people and is so grateful to be able to call you his wife that when he’s talking to other people, he doesn’t even use your name and just tends to say “my wife”

-in full honesty, he also acts like that for another reason; he feels like he owns you with it- that your his

-your his to kiss, find comfort in, talk to, cry to, fuck, make love to, breed- everything! You were his and only his

-and the way you acted with the melusines….how sweet you were to them…his dragon instincts came out insanely.

-you were so kind to them, always helping them with everything and of course with him basically being their dad they start to see you as a mom too 🥺

-one night, he just can’t help it anymore and he’ll force you down in the bed, not letting you move so he can get all of his cum in you.

“Agh! Darling, stay still…” He grunted, pressing a kiss to the love of your ear as he roughly and passionately rolled his hips into yours, his fat cock hitting all the right spots.

“Such a good wife, aren’t you, my dear?”

You couldn’t answer, too fucked out on his cock but also his cum. He’d came multiple times in the last hour and honestly you couldn’t even remember your own name.

“You’ll take it all, right? You’ll let me breed you, fill you up, make you my mate! Hah…”

“Y-yes!” You gasped, holding onto him for dear life. “Breed me…f-fill me up!”

That sentence alone is enough to make him go haywire and he moans as he cums for the nth time, his seed spurring around the edges as he continued to fuck into you.

And when you find a hydro mark embedded on your pelvis, he’ll know you’re officially his mate <3

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin fic #genshin smut #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #genshin neuvillette #wriothesely genshin #genshin wriothesley #neuvillette x reader #neuvillete smut #neuvillette x you #wriothesly x reader #wriothesly smut #wriothesely x reader #female reader #afab reader

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widowmaxff · 4 months

Note

if you wanted to, could you please write an angsty oneshot of moms!wandanat and reader where they get into a a bad argument which results in reader running away to yelena’s? ending could be happy or sad- up to you overall!

proud

pairings: parents!wandanat × daughter!reader | yelena × fem!reader (all platonic)

warnings: angst, argument, crying, insecure reader (?), happy ending!, steve × reader (platonic) at some time of the one shot, bad writing

a/n: i finished this crying because a cockroach attacked me, so thats why the ending was kind of bad writing sorry :P anddd tysm for your request <333 i loved writing this

You were never sure when it started, but it was probably a long time ago. When you learned that having parents who fought the super villains in the world wasn't normal, you realized that your life wouldn't be normal either. But even though you liked seeing your mother training with her red powers or running and being able to do whatever you wanted through the great corridors of the Compound, you still missed having a 'normal' life.

Being able to go out on the street without worrying about some evil man who hates one of your mothers kidnapping you or even being able to make friends at school without them being people who just wanted to meet your uncles, were things you wanted so much to experience. But that wasn't the only thing that made you feel bad in your daily life, having mothers who were superheroes also made you barely see them in weeks.

Even though most people your age didn't want anything to do with their parents anymore, you still missed the comforting and long hugs, the nights you had a marathon of your favorite movies and even when you still had dinner together as a family. But now, either they were too busy with work, like missions and paperwork, or they just didn't want to deal with a teenager.

And even then you tried to get their attention in some way. "Mom?" You knock softly on Natasha's office door, hearing a quiet response for you to enter. "Can you help me study for my test of the next week? I really don't understand this." You chuckle seeing your mother's eyes continue on the papers on her desk.

"Can't you look up the answer on the Internet or something? I'm really busy here, Y/n/n." You knew that Natasha would dismiss you somehow, but deep down you still hoped that she would look at you.

"Yes, but- I wanted to understand how to solve it and not just research it." You whisper, watching your mother write something down in the corner of the paper.

"Wanda can help you." She says, her eyes unable to take the words from her face for even a minute.

"Okay- um, thanks anyway, Mom." You only hear a mumble under her breath, making you wonder if there was something wrong with you. You close the office door with a little less hope this time. Your other mother was always a step ahead than Natasha in terms of emotional comfort, so maybe she would help you in your task by remembering your daily difficulties with that kind of thing. "Mama?"

"Yes?" Your mother murmurs, you barely listening. Wanda was sitting on the sofa at the Compound while devouring herself with a book in her hands.

"Can you help me study for my test of the next week, please?" You sit next to her while Wanda flips through another white page of the big book.

"Now?"

"Yeah. If it's possible."

"Can I help you...tomorrow?" Wanda finally looks at you from above her book. "Today is my only day off from the week's missions and paperwork and I'm really tired right now, my love." Your eyes fall to your hands in your lap, it was obvious that deep down you knew she was going to promise you something and maybe she would deliver. But by the time the next day passed, and then the next, and then the next... and Wanda didn't talk to you about it, you knew she wasn't going to help you.

And when you felt your head hurt just looking at that big red note in the corner of your test, you knew your mothers' wouldn't react so well to it. Maybe before they started spending time apart from you, they wouldn't get mad or anything like that because of your grade, but now you were sure that wasn't what would happen.

Stirring your fork on the plate still full of food, you go over the things you would say to your mothers' about your school grade. You travel between words and don't even notice when someone enters your field of vision. "Is everything okay, Kid?" It was your Uncle Steve. He sits in front of you watching you think about what to say to him.

"Yeah, it's just...school stuff."

"Is someone picking on you?" You knew that Steve almost saw you as a daughter, and you also knew that he was aware of how your mothers would rather be busy than deal with a teenage girl going through puberty, and that maybe now is the time when you needs them the most.

"Not like before, but that's not it." You leave your fork on your plate before sighing deeply. "I just got my test and I didn't get a very good grade," Murmuring you hold back the tears that sting your eyes. "now I don't know how I'm going to tell my mothers this."

Steve sighs. "I'm sure they won't fight with you, Y/n/n. Your mothers' will understand what happened and a grade doesn't define who you are, okay?" Your uncle didn't have much certainty in his voice but you tried to believe him anyway. You nod and put a small smile on your face, as a gesture of thanks.

Steve ruffles your hair, getting up from the chair when he hears the loud and unmistakable footsteps of your mothers' approaching you. He sends you a smile to try to reassure you that everything will work out, and with each step closer to you, your heart starts to accelerate. Your mothers' had a neutral expression, even if Natasha seemed angrier. "Aren't you going to eat?" Wanda asks, walking past you and heading towards one of the closets.

Completely ignoring the question, you take a deep breath and swallow hard. "I received the grade for that test in which I asked you to help me study." You mutter as you saw your mothers still facing away from you. "I got a D." Your voice was low, but even so, the two stopped what they were doing and looked into the depths of your soul.

"You got what?" Natasha seemed to finally understand that you were there. Her arms crossed as she walked towards you.

"I-I asked for help and-"

"Now you're trying to get out of this by blaming us for not helping you?" Wanda cuts you off making your eyes focus on her.

"I'm just saying- I tried, okay?!" It could be said that you got anger issues from your mom genes, or that you were just overwhelmed and your patience was running out. And when your tone of voice increased, you knew Natasha's anger would increase as well.

"Hey, don't talk to your mother like that!" Natasha slams her fist on the table in front of you, making you almost jump out of your seat.

"Well, you shouldn't be talking to me like that either." You didn't know where so much courage came from to fight back against your mother, but when you realized it, the damage had already begun.

"I'm your fucking mother, I talk to you however I want!" Natasha had never made you feel as scared as you did now, but it seemed like now that the words started to come out, they wouldn't stop.

"Ah, you haven't even been acting like a mother these past few months. Hypocrisy, huh?" When you finished speaking, you saw Wanda's eyes want to turn red like her hair. She approached the two of you quickly with the angriest expression you had ever seen.

"What's your problem, Y/n?!"

"My problem?" You get up from the chair and cross your arms, anyone who saw you in that position would notice the similarities in anger between you and Natasha. "You tell me! I'm not the person who would rather spend time anywhere else than with her own daughter. I'm not the one who forgets that she still has a daughter to raise!"

You screamed so loud that you were sure the entire Compound could hear that argument and that they could probably feel the tension in that environment from afar. If you were in a cartoon, you could see smoke coming out of Natasha's head and definitely Wanda's eyes catching fire. "You're being so selfish right now, Y/n."

"Am I?"

"Yes, you are! Just because your mother and I work all day to give you a better life, you think that we don't pay attention to you?" You had never seen Wanda like that, screaming and looking like she could kill anyone who came in front of her.

"Ah, yeah. Because last week when you weren't working you preferred to spend the whole day with Peter than with me just because he got a good grade!"

"Yes, because he always made us so proud by passing all the tests he had, unlike you!" Natasha spits the words out of her mouth without even thinking about what she was saying. And when they passed your ears you could feel your heart breaking.

Hearing that your mothers were more proud of a teenager who worked with them than they were of you made you feel like a gunshot was slowly passing through your chest. Natasha and Wanda knew how insecure you felt in your daily life, mainly due to academic validation, and now it seemed like all those days they had to spend helping you feel better about yourself were going down the drain.

Natasha sighs deeply when she sees your eyes widen, holding back tears that would fall at any moment. Wanda didn't seem any different when she heard the same words coming out of her wife's mouth. She never imagined that an argument of that size would ever happen between you, and Wanda could have sworn that she felt her heart stop beating out of disgust at the thought of how bad you must be feeling right now. "Y/n, I didn't mean-"

"It's okay." You murmur, uncrossing your arms. Two tears fall from your eyes and you make sure to wipe them away quickly. Your eyes were anywhere but on your mothers, because you felt so disgusting knowing that they were more proud of Peter than they were of you, that you couldn't even look at them.

Neither Wanda nor Natasha say anything when you turn and start walking out of the kitchen. You seemed to be walking automatically, your eyes blurry and your mind foggy, just going through your mother's words, over and over. But when you realize it, you're already outside the Compound, a few blocks away. You remember only one person who could help you outside of that place, and who wouldn't mind if you showed up suddenly.

And that's how you found yourself in front of Yelena's apartment, your aunt. She had found a place to live close to Natasha's house when she reconnected with her years ago, and especially when she discovered that she had a daughter, you. "Y/n?" Yelena seemed confused to see you there, with your face soaked and red, looking like an abandoned puppy. "Hey, what's wrong?" She didn't take long to have you in her arms.

"M-Mom and Mama h-hate me." You finally managed to murmur after some time sitting on the sofa in the apartment with Yelena stroking your hair and saying affectionate words.

Anyone who saw her doing this wouldn't believe it. Yelena wasn't the type of person for physical touches and especially sweet words, but when the subject was you, she became another person. "Why do you say that? They love you more than anything, Y/n/n."

"No, they don't."

Yelena had never seen you like this, not when you cried for days when you saw your favorite character dying, not when your mothers had to leave for a long mission. It was strange to see you crying almost as if there was no air in your lungs, your aunt wondered what happened to make it look like you had a bullet in your body and you were begging her to take it out. So, when you fell asleep crying on the couch, Yelena didn't wait a minute to call Natasha and insult her in every way possible. "What the fuck did you do?"

"What?"

"Y/n showed up at my door, I've never seen her crying as much as she does now." Yelena looks at you from the apartment's kitchen, you were curled up on the sofa with a blanket covering your body.

"Are you with her? Wanda and I were looking for her throughout the entire Compound." Natasha seemed to be relieved on the other end of the call, but even so her voice still sounded apprehensive about what had happened. "We're going to your apartment, I'll answer your question when we get there."

"You better!"

[...]

"She's sleeping on the couch." Yelena says when she sees Wanda and Natasha's eyes follow behind her, trying to find you. Yelena noticed Wanda's red eyes, not as if she wanted to cast circles of magic through her hands, but as if she had cried before arriving at the apartment. Your aunt knew that Wanda was sensitive, especially when it came to the topic of you and that you probably inherited that from her too, but for you two to cry so much like that, something really happened.

"Tell me what happened before you look at my niece again." Yelena has always been very protective of you, for example the time two girls made you the target of jokes in your school, and your aunt didn't wait a second to go to each of their houses and have a word with them.

"I better show you." Wanda says getting closer to Yelena, moving her fingers that came out red magic towards her mind - Steve messing up your hair, Wanda opening cabinets, red grade, Natasha screaming, you screaming, not being a mother, Wanda screaming, Peter being mentioned, not proud, disgusting feeling, you crying, you leaving the kitchen.

"Jesus." Yelena sighs deeply, running her hands over her face. "I really don't know how you're going to fix this, but I'll warn you: the hole is deeper than it looks."

"What- what do you mean by that?"

"Look, I'm sure you didn't want this to turn into a big snowball, but Y/n been feeling neglected for so long that after today it might take a while for things to get back to normal." Yelena says leaning on the front door frame.

"We didn't-"

"Yes, you did this to her. Today wasn't the first time she's shown up at my door in the last few months, but she's worse than the other times." Yelena crosses her arms and closes her eyes trying to calm down. "I had to listen to her talk about how you hardly talk to her on a daily basis, how you forgot to go to her presentation at school and didn't even apologize, how there were days when you forgot to pick her up and she had to walk in the rain to my apartment because it was closer, how she cried because you never had movie nights again because apparently now you have movie nights with Peter." Yelena's voice got louder with each thing she remembered you saying to her, and there were countless things. "I don't want to hear what you have to say, I want you to talk to her, apologize."

Natasha was so embarrassed to hear all those things from Yelena that she preferred to remain silent. Wanda had started to cry again, but it was silently, digesting all those things they did and didn't do to you. She had always dreamed of being a mother and now that she wasn't acting like one made her want to vomit over her own actions.

"Can we see her?" It was a stupid question coming from them, since they were your mothers and have the right to see you whenever they want. But they knew that everything was messy and bad for you because of them, so the least they had to do was respect your space.

Yelena just nods and gives Wanda and Natasha space to enter the apartment, taking light steps towards you. They bend down in front of you and see your swollen eyes and your red face with dried tears. Your mothers could cry just to see you in this state. Wanda starts to caress your face trying to make you wake up calmly, it was something she used to do when she went to your room in the morning every day to wake you up. And when you felt that you quickly knew who it was. "Mama?"

"Shh, yes it's me, my love." Wanda says with a small smile on her face when she hears your voice. You seemed lost for a few seconds but when you looked around the apartment you quickly remembered, throwing off the blanket and quickly sitting down on the couch. "Hey, it's okay."

"What are you two doing here?" You murmur, looking at your mothers' faces, who seemed sorry for everything that happened.

"We... came to talk and apologize, is that okay for you?" Natasha says, you could see in her face that she felt just as guilty as Wanda, because most of those horrible words were said by her. "Yeah, I guess." Wanda sighed in relief at your answer and felt some of the weight leave her body.

"I know that just apologies won't be enough to make you want to be around us for now, but your mother and I are completely sorry, my love. We were so stupid about leaving you aside these last few months, we didn't even realize what we were doing to you and it's really fucked up." The swear word made you laugh briefly, putting a smile on your mothers face. "And maybe you don't want to forgive us and that's definitely okay, but know that we're going to do everything we can to get things back on track, okay?"

Natasha agrees with Wanda's words and takes a deep breath before starting to speak. "We love you very, very much, sweetheart. And you are our greatest pride in our entire lives. I know you may not believe this, but you can be sure that me, your mother, your aunt and all your other uncles feel most proud of you, okay? You're our little star and our little agent."

A genuine smile appears on your face when you hear the sweet words that came out of your mothers' mouths. "First, you guys are literally the only people I want by my side and that's the only thing I've wanted these last few months. And I'm really grateful that you guys are sorry about that, even though it's probably going to be hard for things to go back to normal." They nod their heads when they hear your words in your low voice. "And I... forgive you. Not completely but until I can feel good again, but I think hearing you say sorry is a start."

"Okay, yes, that's okay." Wanda leaves a kiss on your forehead and strokes your hair affectionately. "We love you so much, dear."

"Love you too." You say, hugging the two women in front of you, finally feeling maternal affection after feeling neglected for so long and wondering what you had done wrong. Even though it took a while to get used to it all again, you were definitely happier than ever just hearing the words that they were proud of you. "Now I finally don't need to come to talk to Auntie Yelena anymore."

"Hey! I heard that!" Yelena shouts from another room in the apartment making the three of you laugh. You loved making fun of her, but even so, you will always be thankful for all the things she did for you. "Wow you're so ungrateful, Mini Romanoff."

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goldenlikedayl1ght · 7 months

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the lakes - m. murdock

a/n: hey guys so i've been struggling a lot with the fact that i might have hearing loss (i'm going to the doctor next week) and as always i am projecting, but i am not 100% sure everything in this fic is accurate and for that i apologize. but it's my little passion project and i hope you enjoy <3 as always, comments and reblogs are always loved and appreciated! warnings: hearing loss, hearing aids, tinnitus, reader struggling with being disabled, some parts are more vulnurable and don't have the reader being like overly confident in their disability, matt being soft, some suggestive behavior at the end, kissing, nicknames, pretty pg-13 honestly word count: 3.0k summary: your hearing aids run out of battery, and you're forced to struggle through a day of ringing ears and being deaf. matt helps, as he always does. pairing: matt murdock x hard of hearing!reader now playing: the lakes - taylor swift "take me to the lakes/where all the poets went to die/i don't belong/but my beloved, neither do you."

“Are you deaf?”

“What?”

You’re eighteen, home from college for the first time since fall break. Your family sits around for Thanksgiving, and there are so many people talking. There’s about thirteen people at this long dining room table, and they are all talking at once. You’re sitting next to your sister, but you can’t hear her well.

You know she’s speaking, and you’re sure you’re yelling, but you’re frustrated.

“I said, are you deaf? I repeated myself like, four times!”

You feel your face flush.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you. You’re mumbling, and it’s loud in here.”

Your sister looks at you like you’re crazy.

“I’m right next to you, and I’m not mumbling. In fact, no one is yelling, either.”

You poke your fork at your sweet potatoes and feel hot, angry tears in your eyes as you avoid everyone’s gaze.

Your mom sits across from you, and frowns, planning to tell you to make an appointment at the student health center when you get back to campus.

She doesn’t even have to. You’ve booked one by the time she says it to you.

At the student health center, they administer a hearing test, and then refer you to a specialist for further testing. You call your mom, crying and she gently comforts you, before driving to the nearest bookstore and picking up a book on hearing impairments and a copy of ASL for Dummies.

At the specialist, they do another round of tests. Your doctor tells you that you do in fact have hearing issues and that you should come back in a year for more testing, to see if your hearing gets worse. For now, you get a doctor’s note that requires all your professors to take your hearing impairment into consideration. The process for getting that applied at your university is painful, and only gets worse through your years there.

Before you get to law school, your doctor tests you again, and tells you how your hearing has been decreasing in quality in the past few years. He says that you’ll need hearing aids to regulate it. You cry because you cannot afford that.

You get captioning accommodations throughout law school, as well as a note taker for certain classes that are entirely lecture based. You still try to take your own notes, but it frustrates you that suddenly you need all this help. Your own notes are incomprehensible and often miss key parts of the lecture as you sit for a few minutes trying to decipher what your professor had said a few minutes prior.

You go into corporate law after law school, choosing to stay out of court initially because you find yourself frustrated that you wouldn’t be able to process all of what’s going on due to the many voices.

You stay at this company long enough to get your hearing aids, long enough to pay your loans, and long enough to save up a good fund for your hearing aid needs.

You quit your job and get hired at Nelson, Murdock & Page as an interim while you decide what you want to do.

With your hearing aids, life isn’t so frustrating anymore. You find yourself enjoying casual chatter and not worrying about processing what your friends are saying. At family dinners, you take your hearing aids out when you’re mad at your family, to which your stepdad, another hearing aid user, always laughs.

And, despite the pay not being stellar at your job, you love it. You love working with people who need help, love fighting injustice, and you love your coworkers.

...

If only Matt Murdock would reciprocate your feelings towards him.

You’ve been dancing this dance for months. You come into work with coffee and stutter when you get to his doorway.

You wonder if he’ll ever know how desperately you want him.

You go about your days quietly, going to the bar with them at the end of a long week. You love your friends and find yourself hoping they know how much you love them.

Karen and Foggy, as well as Foggy’s fiancé, know about your hearing aids since they sit sort of clunkily on your ears.

You don’t tell Matt, though, not at first.

You know how bad it is, to not even tell your blind crush that you have hearing aids. But you’re embarrassed. It makes you sound like an old person even though you’re in your twenties.

But when Matt crawls into your window late at night, bleeding, you don’t even flinch as he crashes onto your floor behind you. You’re reading, your hearing aids out, and he’s unsure why you can’t hear him. Your heartbeat had no reaction, it’s like you don’t even realize he’s there.

He taps you on your shoulder and you turn quickly, and gasp, before starting to sign at him. Even in his disoriented state, he knows you’re doing something with your hands and moving your mouth. At first, he thinks that he might have stuff clogging his ears, but then he realizes you’re signing, probably because you think Daredevil isn’t blind.

He takes off his helmet.

“Matt?” You say, and it comes out a little louder than it should, because you can’t hear yourself to gage how loud you’re being.

He says something, and your gaze focuses on his mouth, where you can barely make out what he’s saying.

“I can’t hear you.” You say, softer now. You reach over to your bedside table and put your hearing aids on. By the time you look back, Matt has passed out on the ground. Oh fuck.

You get your first aid kit and begin to work on his wounds. When you’re done, you pull him onto your couch, now stained with his blood, and watch as he sleeps. Blood covers your hands, and you listen to him breathing.

When he wakes up that morning, you’re asleep on the couch, and when you feel him start to stir. You grab your hearing aids, and turn them on, before watching him wake.

He says your name softly, and you take his hand in yours.

“Hey.. You.. You’re Daredevil...”

“You’re deaf.”

“Hard of hearing. Not fully deaf, just… My right ear is a lot better than my left, but without my hearing aids I’m close to deaf, yeah…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were Daredevil?”

“I was scared. Scared that… That you would view me differently, scared that you wouldn’t like me as much.”

“I was scared too..”

“When did you start losing your hearing?”

“In college. I realized it when I went home for Thanksgiving, and then it got worse from there..” You tell him. A hand reaches out to your face, and you lean into it, letting your cheek rest in his palm. His fingers trail up towards your ear and gently run his fingers over your hearing aid.

“Thanks for stitching me up.” He says softly.

“No problem.”

“The hearing aid does explain the buzzing I always hear when you’re around.”

“You can hear my hearing aids?”

“Apparently. I can hear a lot of things. I have heightened senses. You use pomegranate shampoo and had red velvet cake for dessert tonight. Your heart is racing.”

Your face flushes.

“I can turn them off if it’s bothering you.”

“How would you hear me, then?” He has a point.

“I just don’t want them to bother you.”

“Don’t offer to hide your disability just to make other people more comfortable.”

You kiss him when he says this, in a careful way. You’re gentle, making sure not to hurt him as you do. He lays there and lets you kiss him, his hands on your face. You realize you had no reason to be scared that Matt might reject you for your disability, because he is the only person in your everyday life who really gets how it is to have a disability that affects all aspects of your life.

You trace the healed scars on his skin as you kiss him gently, careful not to hurt him. You promise that you’ll kiss him more passionately when he isn’t freshly stitched up.

• • •

A few weeks passed after that night. You and Matt start seeing each other more and more as you fall deeper in love. You find it silly that you wasted so many days, afraid of talking to each other and maybe disappointing each other over the fact that you both lack a vital sense.

But Matt never views it that way. You wear hearing aids and it’s perfectly fine because most of the time, you aren’t struggling to hear him and cannot communicate with him, and he can’t see when you can’t hear him.

Instead, Matt loves that he can hear your hearing aids buzzing softly because it always alerts him that you’re there. He can hear your heartbeat and smell you, too, but it’s not quite the same as this soft little buzzing that reminds him often of a bee.

Except for this one day.

You slept over at Matt’s on a Thursday and really, you should have known better. You knew your hearing aids were going to need a battery change soon, but you’ve been so busy with work and with Matt, and worrying about him at night, that you’re tired. So tired that you forget to pick up batteries before your hearing aids die.

You sneak out of Matt’s apartment early, sending him a text that you needed to go get changed before work. Really, you want to avoid the fact that you wouldn’t be able to hear him. But he didn’t respond to your message. You decide that you don’t care at this moment and head out to work, debating the right way to tell your coworkers about your predicament.

When you get to work, Foggy is immediately talking to you, and you are tense.

“Foggy—” He’s not stopping. It sounds like he’s mumbling, and there’s this ringing in your ears. “Foggy, I can’t hear you.” He finally looks to you, and says something, you make it out to be a phrase of confusion. “My hearing aids died.” You tell him. You’re frustrated, and Matt isn’t in the office yet.

You deem this as a blessing and a curse. Foggy goes to tell Karen what’s going on and as you’re settling down for the day, you get a text. You hope it’s from Matt, but when you see Karen’s name, you falter slightly.

‘Hey! Foggy told me what was going on. We’ll have your calls redirected to one of us and you can spend the day doing housekeeping and paperwork.’

‘Thanks’, You respond, “Sorry about all this. I’m usually on top of my battery life.”

“Don’t worry about it. These things happen.”

“Still, thanks. Did you hear from Matt at all?”

“No, he probably just slept in late. He should be in soon.”

You try to ignore your anxieties over his absence even though you know that when he does come into the office, you’ll have to struggle to communicate with him all day.

So, for the first hour or so of your day, you try to get some work done but there’s a light ringing in your ears that’s getting worse and worse as you attempt to try and focus on other things. Everything sounds so muffled. You’re so focused that your teeth grind against each other, your muscles tense, as you attempt to try and block out the ringing in your ears.

You have a feeling that by the time you leave today, those hot frustrated tears will be threatening to pour once more.

You don’t hear Matt as he steps into your office and stands by your left side, where you’re almost completely deaf. He stands there for about ten minutes, trying to get your attention before he realizes the light buzzing of your hearing aids are not there.

You must not have them in.

So his hands find your shoulders gently, and instead of tensing, you actually relax under his touch, because you realize that it has to be Matt. A slight turning of your head confirms it and you lean into his touch.

Neither of you say much for a while, deciding to let your frustration slowly dissipate as you lean into his warm hands. They stay on your shoulders and upper arms, rubbing gentle patterns into your skin.

After a good ten minutes of this, his body shifts to your right side and he leans down, before speaking at full volume, maybe even a little louder, just to make sure you can hear him. It still sounds like he’s mumbling, but you can hear him.

“Forgot your hearing aids?”

“Batteries died.” You tell him. “You never answered me.”

“My phone died. I forgot my charger, too.. Are you gonna be okay to work all day?”

“Mhm..” You smile softly, “You’re gonna have to help answer calls, though.”

He kisses your cheek, and you lean into the warmth.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He says, a soft smile on his face.

The day goes by pretty much as you expect it. You spend it doing paperwork and dodging phone calls, your tinnitus gets worse as the day goes on. By the time the day is finally winding down, Karen sends you one final text.

“Matt’s staying a little late to catch up on some work. Want me to walk you home?”

“No, I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

You realize that because she and Foggy are heading home, you’ll be able to sit with Matt, maybe get a little bit of peace. You’re thankful, too, because you’re about to lose your mind over all of this. The ringing is just getting to be too much.

You wait a few minutes after Foggy and Karen head home before you go into Matt’s office. He smiles at you and gestures for you to come in, and you do. You lean against his desk, as he speaks loud enough now that you can hear him.

“I’ll just be a few more minutes, Bee.” Even the soft-spoken nickname doesn't get you out of your funk, too busy wanting to get on your hands and knees and beg God for your hearing back.

That doesn’t usually happen, but every once in a while you ask him for a normal life.

God sends you a blind man as your soulmate, because he must think that the whole thing is quite funny.

“Okay…”

You feel hot tears pooling in your eyes as you bite your tongue and dig your fingernails into your skin. You almost draw blood.

“What’s wrong?” He can tell that something is wrong. He can always tell, and you’re foolish to think anything less of him, and even more foolish to forget his super senses. A part of you bites back a bitter feeling, since you wish you could’ve had super smell, super sight, super taste, anything in exchange for your hearing. You were not given an exchange, only forced to give, with nothing in there for you.

You forget that your boyfriend has super senses and can taste and smell your salty tears and blood in the air. Damn him.

“Loud… Ringing in my ears, my tinnitus is always really bad when I don’t use my hearing aids for a while..” You say softly. “It’s just.. it really hurts...” You confess, tears slipping down your face.

“Sweetheart..” He takes off his glasses and rests them on the desk in front of him. “C’mere..” You can’t hear that last part, but the way he opens his arms gives you the hint.

You sit on his lap, burying your face in the crook of his neck with a shaky sigh. You feel the thumps of his heartbeat and hold onto it, the ringing in your ears slightly muffled by his skin. It doesn’t fix the problem, but it helps.

His hands linger on your body, gentle caresses of your knee or thigh happening here and there. He just wants you to know he’s there, in the same way he desires when everything becomes too much for him.

“”m sorry..” you say gently, and he just hushes you softly, kissing your head. He traces patterns into your skin. He traces words into it as well.

L-O-V-E.

S-W-E-E-T-H-E-A-R-T

He traces your name, his, and your last names.

You kiss him softly, realizing that you might never be 100% okay with your hearing, but Matt will help. He’ll understand. He loves you, and it’s enough to be confident in your future again.

You spend only a few minutes more in the office before you decide to head home, his hand never leaving yours.

You make it back to his apartment and Matt plugs his phone in in case you need to text him and get his attention. You wind up stealing a pair of sweatpants, a tee shirt, and a pair of fuzzy socks. The two of you wind up tangled together on his couch.

Your ear is pressed against his chest as he gently caresses your skin, occasionally moving your hair from your face. He mumbles sweet nothings, and while you can’t hear them, you feel the rumbling vibrations in his chest, and you relish in them. You bathe in the feeling of his heartbeat thumping against his skin.

You fall asleep like this, with Matt touching you and talking in this low tone to make sure you can feel the vibrations of his voice in his chest and in his throat. It’s enough just knowing he’s there. That this thing you thought would deem you unlovable is no match for Matt Murdock, who on your wedding day will throw up the sign for ‘I love you’ in ASL.

For Matt Murdock, who, when you’re taken for loving the devil, will find you and take you into his arms and kiss you so that you know he’s real.

For Matt Murdock, who touches you in all the right ways so you can hear the sounds of your own pleasure.

For Matt Murdock, who will gently trace patterns into your skin when you need to be grounded. For Matt Murdock, who feels himself slipping further and further in love with you and finds himself searching for the soft buzz of your hearing aids when you walk into the room.

#matt murdock #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matt murodock hurt/comfort #matt murdock angst #matt murdock imagine #daredevil fic #daredevil x reader #daredevil fanfiction #hoh!reader #hard of hearing!reader #deaf!reader #self indulgent

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lowkeyremi · 1 year

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Haikyuu men as fathers pt 2.

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

Ft. Kuroo, Tendou, Atsumu, and Tsukki.

Decided instead of babies I wanted to do slightly older kids! :)

CW: Indication of pregnancy, relationships, marriage and some angst for tsukki’s

Enjoy lovelies <33

…………….

Kuroo Tetsuro:

“Nap time! If my two munchkins don’t go to take a nap, the nap time monster will come out!” He hears little playful shrieks from his son and daughter.

“But Daddy, I don’t want to!” His daughter whines. A soft smile arose on his face as he bent down to his 6 year old daughter’s level. “Mommy will get mad at me if you little nuggets don’t go lay down.” Kuroo covers his eyes and pretends to cry. His son comes out of nowhere and starts trying to comfort him. “Don’t cry daddy! Umiko and me will go lay down! Come on sissy, we don’t want daddy to cry anymore.” 6 year old Shinji drags his twin sister to their room.

As soon as he’s sure they’ve turned the corner a lopsided grin appears on his face, “works every time.”

He is a dad boss no questions asked

You need a break from the kids? He’ll take them to the park and get all their energy out

For the first couple of months of their lives you would have to drag Kuroo out of their room because his 6’2” ass would get in the crib and sleep with his babies

He DEFINITELY took some time off of work to be there for you and the babies

He always makes corny dad jokes (most likely about science) “Why are chemists excellent for solving problems?” …. “They have all the solutions.”

omg he thinks his jokes are so fucking funny too (his kids learn the hyena laugh 🤦🏽‍♀️)

Whenever you’re away he always sends pictures of what he and the kids are up to.

idgaf abt what you say, that man can COOK

Tendou Satori:

“You can’t tell mom I let you have chocolate before dinner, ‘kay?” He looks into his 9 year old daughter’s eyes waiting for her response.

“It’s our little secret!” She giggles and man is laughing contagious because Tendou starts to laugh too. You were working a little later than usual so Tendou picked up Mayumi even though it wasn’t his day to do so. “What do you want for dinner, May?”

Her eyes widen at the statement. Which tells Tendou a WHOLE lot “Dad’s cooking?!” She asks not because she’s excited but because she’s scared for her life. Tendou may be a chocolatier but this man is not a very good cook unless it’s pasta.

“Nah, we’re gonna stop and get dinner before we go home. Dad’s gotta close shop though, so I thought I’d ask so we can order.”

She hops off the counter and does a cute little dance. I mean.. it’s in her genes. “You’re the best, Dad!”

He shakes his head with a smile, “oh I try!”

SO PROTECTIVE

The second he finds out someone was messing with his baby, he called the teacher and talked things out with her

He is a sucker for spoiling, you often scold him for it but he still does it anyway

He SINGS HIS DAUGHTER TO SLEEP>>>>>

He is the “ouchie” police, his daughter would always giggle but anytime she stubbed her toe on a chair or something he’d start talking to whatever caused his little girl pain and start scolding it (he knows it makes her feel better)

NOT a cook please he will burn the place by accident

Definitely ruined some intimate moments because instead of walking baby girl back to bed he gets dressed and offers to let her cuddle with you guys in the bed (after changing sheets ofc) (he wants his little girl to feel loved)

When she was a baby he’d call you every hour while he was at work to make sure you and the baby are okay

He almost passed out when the school called saying Mayumi broke her leg

He rushed her to the hospital so fast “dw baby, daddy’s here for you.” “I know it hurts princess.”

He went around interrogating the kids in her class thinking one of them pushed her, he was shocked to find out she climbed to the top of the playground and jumped off of it 😭

Definitely got his daughter obsessed with frogs

Miya Atsumu:

“Mama’s gonna kill us! What’s yer last words?” He says in slight shock. His sons start crying thinking that you were actually gonna kill them.

“Not literally boys! Just… this mess- oh jeez.” He looks around bubbles and soap all over the floor.

Atsumu told the twins to ‘be good and color ‘til papa’s done in the shower’ and he came back to this. Dawn dish soap all over the floor and bubbles galore.

The cherry on top had to be that the dog was soaking in mixed berry juice because five year old Kosuke tried to pour himself a cup of juice.

“Alright! C’mon boys, we gotta tidy up before mama gets home!” You would be home in 2 hours…

They cleaned up the bubble mess, after being distracted like 10 times and having a few bubble fights.

Next was giving the twins a bath. Which proved to be harder than it needed to be. Kosuke was mad at Kensuke because he kept showing him his butt. Honestly, Atsumu had to keep himself from laughing.

“That’s enough, Ken. Nobody want to see yer lil butt. Hurry up ‘n wash cuz papa still has to bathe Shoko.” Kensuke’s bad self is splashing water in the tub and it’s getting all over his twin. Kosuke doesn’t like it so he smacks his brother and the latter begins to cry.

“DADDY, K-KO KOSUKE HIT ME, AHHHHHHH.” Atsumu rubs his temple. He all but freezes when he feels a soft hand kneed into his shoulder.

“Seems like you guys had a great time, Shoko’s covered in juice.” He turns his head to look at you.

“it’s not what ya think, hon!” You shake your head at him.

“Ko, don’t hit your brother. When papa is being annoying you don’t see me hitting him, now do you?” He answers honestly, “sometimes you do… you’ll punch papa’s shoulder.”

He got you there lol. “Well that’s more out of love. Apologize to him and you,” you point to your little trouble maker, “don’t provoke your brother, got it?” He nods and goes to rub his eyes. Which is why he started crying for the second time because he got soap in his eyes…

Anyway after their bath and dinner the boys were sent to bed. Shoko was bathed and you and Atsumu were laying in bed.

“I shoulda been watching them..” he admits. You agree. “You live and you learn ‘Tsumu.”

He had no idea what he was doing at first tbh

he can be a bit lazy w the boys sometimes but in the end he pulls it together

The type of dad to make you sit there and say cheese for 500 years while he tries to get the perfect picture

He was mad cuz he thought the twins loved samu more than him

he was sad when they didn’t seem too interested in volleyball “Atsumu, they’re five.” … “Still!”

Impulsively bought a dog cuz his sons wouldn’t stop talking abt having one

In the end he loves his boys very much and would do anything for them

Tsukishima Kei:

“I hate you mom! I really wanted to go!” Your 13 year old daughter slammed her door. She was angry because you didn’t let her go to a dance some kid in her class was hosting. It’s not that she particularly wanted to go, she was just mad that her 17 year old brother got to go out to his friend’s party.

Your husband emerges from his office, he adjusts his glasses and looked at you with curiosity. You sigh hugging him, “Kei.. am I a bad mother?” He squeezes you in the hug, “not in the slightest. We’re doing what’s best for them. What’s got her so upset?”

“She wants to go to this party but I said no because I don’t know any of the parents there. Also, I’m just scared something will happen to her.”

He rubs your back in a comforting way. “I’ll let her go-” you interrupt, “Kei!” He gives you a quick peck to the lips.

“Wasn’t done…” you stayed quiet waiting for him to finish. He clears his throat. “As I was saying… I’ll allow her to go if I chaperone. If she doesn’t like that she won’t go.” He decided and you sigh in relief.

“I’ll go order pizza. Can you talk to her?” He nods, “Supreme.” You roll your eyes at him and smile. “I know what you like dummy.” He playfully flips you off and you laugh in shock at how childish he is even though he’s past his prime years.

He walks over to Hanae’s door and knocks softly. “Go away mom! I don’t like you!” Tsukishima shakes his head. He’s not going to tolerate her disrespecting you, the person who birthed her. He opens the door and she’s on her bed with her headphones on and dried tears on her face.

“Dad…” She already knew what was to come. She knows he doesn’t like when she disrespects you like that. “Don’t say you hate her. She’s your mother, Hanae. It hurts her to hear those words come from your mouth.” She lowers her head and takes her headphones off.

“I didn’t mean it..” her voice is small. Tsukishima handles the situation as he usually would, find the root of the problem (even though he already knew)

“What made you say it?” He sat on her bed and pat a spot next to him basically telling her to come closer. “Um.. I wanted to go to this dance a guy a know is hosting but she said no…” her eyes didn’t meet her father’s.

“Why’d you want to go so bad?” He says bringing her chin up so she looks right into his eyes. He knows she hates it but direct communication is key, even facial expressions can reveal the slightest things.

“W-well. Ugh, why am I crying this is so stupid.” She pauses to wipe her eyes.

“You guys let Akihiko go where ever he wants but I can’t go anywhere! I hate it!” She turns her head away, Tsukki can hear the little sniffles.

“Not true. A lot of stuff that he went to when he was younger, he was chaperoned. We just barely started letting him go out alone so he can get a taste of real life. You can ask him yourself. You’re only thirteen, don’t rush it. Also your mother and I just want to protect you from dangerous situations. Your mom doesn’t know any of the people there which is why she said no.” Tsukki is once again rubbing circles into someone’s back.

“There are so many bad people in the world and we just want to make you a little safer.” She turns back to face him, she scoots closer to her dad so she can hug him.

“I’m sorry.” She says through sniffles. “I’m not the one you need to apologize to.” She nods, “I need a minute.” He strokes her hair as she finishes letting it all out.

“I told your mother you can go if I chaperone you.” He explains after she’s calmed down.

“Dad, you’re gonna embarrass me.” She says with a giggle, tears now drying up.

“Damn right I will. I’ll tell all those hungry little boys that you eat your boogers and you don’t shower for weeks.” He says with a sly grin. She frowns, “dad no!”

He pats her back, “alright kid go apologize if you really mean it.” You and your daughter make up and eat pizza together :3

VERY logical

also super protective

100% the kind of dad who loves his kids but puts his wife first

He’s the bad cop parent while you’re the good cop parent

He loves family cooking night where you guys cook together

he will embarrass both his children in front of their crushes (and thinks it’s the funniest thing ever)

He just seems like the kind of dad to fall asleep and get colored on 😭 they give him a lil mustache and a uni-brow

I feel like he kinda always sides with Hanae for the most part bc he was a little sibling so he knows her pain lmao

he be bragging abt his kids “Akihiko is only six and he’s already reading flawlessly” “Oh, Hanae already did that when she was three”

you wanted to delay the sex talk but like Tsukki was so blunt and just told them 😭

He’s always teasing you “If you don’t be careful Akihiko you might end up with someone as annoying as your mom” you just glare and he snickers

Such a proud dad and has a video of every one of his kids’ firsts

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formulaforza · 6 months

Text

—everywhere, everything

keep my hand in yours ('til our fingers decompose) pairing: daniel ricciardo x female reader warnings: parent death, angst, language, driving under the influence, underage smoking/drinking love, mackie... 6.6k. part two of this guy (but I think can be read stand-alone). I hope I make u all sad enough that you never ask me for a part two ever again <3

I hear you’re snooping around the old stomping grounds. I’d love to be there when you do it. Bring your dad if he’s free. It’ll be a good night, lots of strawberry wine—the real shit this time. All love, (always your) Danny.

— —

Danny is notably absent from your mom’s funeral. Granted, he is in Budapest at the time, and he had two races this weekend. You know this because you still keep tabs on him, even if he’s not yours to keep tabs on anymore, even if there’s nobody to blame for that but yourself.

If you didn’t know better, hadn’t spotted Grace, Joe and Michelle a dozen or so people back in line to greet you and your dad, you would have been able to convince yourself Danny didn’t have a clue your mom was even sick. She went quick, less than eight months from her death sentence to… well. From death sentence to death.

Two hundred and thirty-one days since her diagnosis means two-hundred and twenty-eight days since you broke things off with Danny. So even if he was in town, you probably wouldn’t have seen him. You wish you would have though, that he would have appeared in the plethora of grieving faces. Not for you, but for her. She always loved him, even before you did.

Grace’s arms feel like the light at the end of a dark tunnel when she finally gets to the front of the line. She squeezes you tight, the only way a mother knows how to, and you cry in her arms. Grace doesn’t tell you how sorry she is, or that your mom loved you so much, or that she’s in a better place now. She just hugs you and wipes away your tears.

“Danny wishes he could be here,” she tells you, but you don’t want to think about him and you don’t want to believe her.

“Tell him I said ‘thank you?’” you say, a forced smile on your face. It’s got to be the hundredth of the afternoon. If there’s one thing your mom is—was. If there’s one thing she was, it’s loved. Tell him I hate him, is what you wish you could say to Grace. Or maybe tell him I love him.

A million and two hugs later and you find yourself missing his arms more than you should. He was always a good hugger, and you could use a good hug right now.

— —

You showed up at the property fifteen minutes after the event started. You’d hoped to slip in and out, to at least be able to say you went, that you tried. You had no intention of trying to find Daniel, and you figured it would be easy to avoid him, especially if you showed up after everyone else did—it’s his show, he’s the man of the hour, everyone will be fighting for his attention.

You don’t even know why you came, really. Maybe it’s to figure out how the hell Daniel even got your address to send the invite in the first place. You’d moved half a dozen times since he last knew you. Or maybe it’s that you don’t believe, even after seeing it with your own eyes, that somebody actually had success with growing berries in the heat. It could be that you just… It could be simple, that you miss your Mom, and that everything about that place reminds you of her.

Whatever the reason, you put on a long, flowing sundress, tied your hair back, and slipped on a pair of comfortable sneakers and a denim jacket. You didn’t even bother to tell your Dad—knew he’d want to catch up with Daniel, or maybe want to strangle Daniel. You didn’t want to give him the chance to do either. You park on the dirt road that leads to the vineyard, because the parking lot is overflowing, a pattern you’re beginning to notice since he’d taken over.

The place looks the same as it did last time you were here. DR3 Wines still adorn the fleet of ATVs out front, and the wooden letters on the perfectly red barn are still perfectly white. You give your name to the woman working the door, regret it as soon as you catch her announcing your presence over the radio-headset she wears.

Momentarily, you consider turning around and walking right back to your car. But, you aren’t one to waste a good outfit, not if you’d gotten all dolled up like this, so you walk into the Barn with your head down.

It smells the same inside; wood, lavender, citronella and alcohol. There’s candles burning to make it feel cozy, but they do a poor job at changing the aroma in the air. The walls are still hung with photos, and the counter is still that slab of wood. It’s exactly the same as it was a few months ago, and manages to remind you of the place you grew up without wearing your childhood memories like a costume.

Daniel has always been easy to find in a room. He’s loud, his voice and his laugh vibrate off the walls of whatever room he’s in. He’s loud and he’s confident and sometimes it feels like he’s the only person in a room that’s really alive. That’s how it felt then, at least.

It’s been thirteen years since you last shared a space with him, but the fact you can hear his laugh on the other side of the crowded room assures you that while everything has changed, some things have stayed exactly the same.

You can’t see him, but man can you hear him.

You sign the guest book—proof, in case anybody asks. Proof that you did show up. It’s the top of a wine barrel, DR3 2023 branded into the oak—two tops, because so many people are here. It’s covered in signatures and messages from people he loves. You feel guilty even signing it, but you do.

Congrats Dan—your marker pauses. You scoff at yourself. Congrats Daniel. Time flies, 13 years! The place looks beautiful. Wishing you continued success, you write, finishing it off with your signature.

He still wears the same cologne, you realize, when you look up and he’s leaning against the table watching you write. He wears the same cologne, and the same smile, even if less crooked. Everything else about him is different. His hair is shorter, eyes older. His arms are covered in art, face is all together thinner, and his five o’clock shadow is less of a pipe dream and more of a full-fledged beard. He’s taller, maybe. Or you’re shorter. It doesn’t really matter, you suppose.

You purse your lips into a curt smile. He matches—you didn’t even know he could smile like that. “Hi, honey,” he says, leaning over to read your message.

“Hi.” “Who’s Daniel?” He teases, the smile on his face growing into one you’re much more familiar with. You look back at your writing, but you don’t laugh. If anything, you’re sure you look a little scared. “I’m teasing.”

“I know,” you nod.

“Okay,” he nods right back, slow, apprehensive over your apprehension.

“Sorry,” you force out a chuckle. “I’m being so weird,” and you adjust the strap on your dress. He shoves his hands in his pocket, rocks back and forth on the sole of his shoes. Do you know how weird it is to be face to face with someone you were head over feet in love with? It’s really fucking weird. You put your best smile on your face, “Hi, sorry,” you continue, opening your arms for what you think might be the most awkward hug you’ve ever given.

He’s quick to pull his hands back out of his pocket, like he’s worried if he doesn’t act fast enough you’re going to rescind the offer.

His touch is uncanny; familiar and comforting and unsettling. It melts the years away and you feel just like you did some twelve years ago when you wished so desperately for one of his hugs. You’re nineteen again, and he’s twenty, and everything feels like it’s going to be okay.

“How are you,” he asks quietly, his arms tight around you. “You look great.”

“I’m okay,” you say over his shoulder, and then again, as if you’re trying to convince yourself: “I’m okay. How are you?”

“Oh, y’know,” he shrugs, pulling away from the hug, gesturing your question away. “Same old, same old.”

“Yeah,” you nod, even though you don’t know. Even though it’s been eleven years since you forced yourself to ignore his existence, since you last kept any sort of tab on him. You can’t get over how different he looks. How you’d still recognize him without a second glance. “You look different.”

He laughs, looks down at himself. At his arms, his hands. He can’t look at his face, but it’s different, too. “Yeah, I guess so, huh?” He keeps looking back at you every time he laughs. He makes sure you’re laughing, or smiling at least, before he lets his slip. “Is your Dad here?”

“No. He uh, he wasn’t feeling well.”

Once upon a time, Daniel could spot your lies from the other side of the vineyard. You get stiff and stuttery, he told you, it’s easy when you know what you’re looking for. That was once upon a time, though, and this is now. Now, you don’t know if Daniel remembers any of those little things about you.

His eyes go momentarily soft, worried, almost. “Just a cold, yeah?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, can I get you a drink? Give you a tour?”

You look around the place—not much to tour. Not when it used to be yours, not when one of his teenaged employees gave you a tour a few months back. He seems so excited about the idea, though, so you go along with it. “Sure. Yeah, that’d be nice.”

“Nice, awesome,” he says, looking around the place like he forgot where everything is. He claps his hands together, pulls them apart into a snap, and points at you with both hands. “Stay here? I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” you chuckle, and it’s genuine. “Staying here.”

“I know you, Bee,” he says, walking backwards away from you. B. He totally knows you’re full of shit about your Dad having a cold. “Don’t try to sneak out while I’m gone.”

“I won’t.”

“You promise?”

You nod. “I promise.”

— —

You, Daniel, and your Mom worked the closing shift that night. When he was around, that’s almost always how it went, because the two of you were the only ones who’d worked there long enough to know how to properly close up without a babysitter.

Your Mom worked tediously in the office counting all the money—she was the slower counter of your parents, but it wasn’t like anyone was ever sitting around waiting on her. There was always something to be done, and Daniel was always good at making sure those closing tasks took up more than a chunk of the evening.

You’d cleaned inside, swept the floors and vacuumed the rugs and cleaned the tables and the counters. You washed glasses behind the bar and restocked displays. The landline on the counter rang while you were writing up the day’s inventory, and you almost didn’t answer it, but your parents had told you to improve on your customer-service skills, even when you or the customer weren’t on site.

To your surprise, the voice on the other end was Daniel’s. He was calling from the cellar, is too lazy to come over there to get shot down. “Is your Mom finished counting?” He asked, and you pulled the phone away from your ear to try and listen past the office door.

“I think so,” you say, bringing the phone back to your ear. “We should be heading out soon.”

Sometimes you feel like you can hear Danny’s smile. “You wanna do the lock check with me?”

You slot the phone between your shoulder and your ear, returning your hands to the task of finishing up your paperwork for the night. You needed to be done when he got here, or there was no chance your Mom let you go with him. “How do you know I’m done with my shit?”

You can hear the lull of the old beat up golf-cart engine in the background, can almost feel the vibrations, can see clear as day Danny sitting there, lounging on the leather seat—tanned skin, unruly hair, toothy grin. “You always finish fast so you can daydream about your boyfriend,” he says, turning the last word into his own little sing-songy ballad.

Your pen pauses on the paper, and you roll your eyes. “Jake isn’t my boyfriend.”

Danny laughs, and you roll your eyes again, pretend like you aren’t smiling. “Oh? But you knew who I was talking about!”

“Because you never shut up about him being into me.”

“Because he is!”

You set the pen down for good, now, grab the phone again because you want to make sure your next words come across loud and clear, even if it is the millionth time you’ve told him. “He’s my friend, Danny!”

“Oh, come on!” His laugh intensifies. “I don’t think a guy has ever been just friends with you.”

“You’re my friend, aren’t you?”

His laughter quells, and you’re sure he’s picking on the plastic of the steering wheel. There are so many scrapes on it from the same thing. He’s always picking at it, ever since you told him to give his poor nails a rest. He has to destroy something, you suppose—teenage boy and all—but you prefer a destroyed golf cart steering wheel to a destroyed Danny, so you let it slide. He sighs, and then he clears his throat, and the memory of your question dies in the silence. “Are you coming with me or not?”

“Are you coming to get me?”

— —

The air is chilly—nippy almost, especially with the sun dipping below the horizon like it is. You’re walking stride for stride with Daniel over the gravel path to the cellar, glass of sweet pink wine in your hand. He’s taking you to the strawberry field, per your request, because even after tasting it, even after telling you which field it’s in, you still don’t believe him.

“So,” he asks, one hand deep in his pocket, the other hanging in the space between your bodies. He’s very hesitant with you today, you’ve noticed. It’s nothing like the brash boy you called your first love. He’s gentle, softer, like he’s scared of his next words. “Who finally put that ring on your finger?” The threat of a smile is weak, but the idea of it alone is charming.

You look at your free hand, carefully decorated with several different rings. “Which one?”

He drops his head to his shoulder, gives you a pathetic smile and a matching chuckle. “The only one an ex-boyfriend would ask you about, Bee.”

The sunlight—the little bit that’s left of it—catches the diamond on your ring finger. “Oh,” you shrug, dropping it back to your side. “It’s Mom’s.”

“I know,” he nods solemnly, and your head shoots over to look at him. You don’t know why he would remember that. “Who put it there, though?”

A smile pulls on your lips, and you bury it in the lip of your wine glass. “I’m not engaged, if that’s what you’re asking,” you laugh. “I just wear it… I don’t know, it makes me feel close to her.”

Sunsets at the property have always been gorgeous. When you were younger, you thought that maybe it was the most beautiful place in the entire world. The blues and the pinks and the yellows all mix together into some grand watercolor and tonight is no exception.

The silence that lingers in the air should be awkward, but it’s not. It should be harder to be here, to watch the sunset, to walk the paths you have memorized, to stand next to Daniel after all these years. It’s not hard, though. It’s comfortable, like it was when you were sixteen and seventeen and eighteen and barely nineteen. Like it was all the time you knew him, even before you loved him.

“I’m sorry,” he finally speaks. “She was really cool.”

You chuckle softly. It’s a familiar routine, consoling those attempting to console you about her death. “That’s what everyone says,” you say, even though Daniel might be the first person to posthumously describe your mom as cool. Lovely, you’d gotten more times than you could count. Beautiful and kind and oh honey, she loved you so much, you knew already. She was really cool, that’s a Danny-original if you’ve ever heard one.

“I should have been at the funeral.”

“It’s okay,” you nod, because his presence wouldn’t have changed that your Mom was lovely and beautiful and kind and that she wasn’t around to be any of those things anymore. There wasn’t anything Daniel could have done to remedy that reality. “You were busy. We weren’t together,” and before he can come back with something, insists that it’s a bigger deal some decade later than it was, you change the subject. “What about you, though? Putting rings on anyone’s fingers these days?”

He laughs. A person can only get poetic about Daniel’s laugh so many times before it’s easier to just leave it at that. He laughs, everyone around him lights up, and he laughs some more. “Believe it or not, my work-life balance isn’t super great at fostering long-term relationships.”

You don’t exactly know what Daniel’s work-life balance looks like. The last time you paid any attention, he was racing with Toro Rosso. Every update you’d heard since had been one you weren’t looking for—commercials and posters and billboards and word-of-mouth; more than a couple ex-boyfriends and a few stray friends.

You never cared much about racing. It was Daniel you cared about.

There aren't a lot of specifics you remember about Daniel’s schedule, but you remember that he was almost always coming or going. There wasn’t much staying, and that was before he’d even made it to the big show. “You mean, women like it when their partners are around for most of the year?”

“They do, yeah,” he nods, dimples digging into his cheeks. “Crazy, right?”

“Crazy.”

— —

Danny didn’t go down without a fight. He caught what had to have been the first flight home—home, you’re not sure that he can call Perth home now that he doesn’t live here. He caught the first flight to you, threw wood chips at your window at three-in-the morning. He didn’t need to wake you up, it’s been two weeks since you had any kind of meaningful sleep. You spend the majority of your time in bed looking at the ceiling fan spin or staining the sheets with your tears.

You let him throw mulch for twenty minutes though, hoping that maybe he’ll give up and leave so you don’t have to face him.

You’d done the breaking up over the phone for a reason. It wasn’t that you couldn’t wait until whenever he was home next. You could. It was that you couldn’t break up with him while looking him in the eyes, and you knew it.

Eventually, though, you pull your pajama-clad frame out from under the warm covers, drag your feet the entire way to the window, pulling the curtains open just enough to confirm what you already knew—that it was him in the driveway. His entire face relaxes when he sees you there, forcing the window open. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“What the fuck am I doing?” He scoffs. “What the fuck are you doing?”

You cross your arms over your chest. The night air is cold and your pajamas are scarce. “I’m trying to sleep.”

He rolls his eyes, always dramatic, always over-the-top. “Come down here, honey.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

You stand there in silence, shivering in your bedroom window. He stands there in silence, thick jacket on and a handful of wood chips from the garden in your driveway. It’s a stalemate, and you don’t know which of you is more exhausted. Appearance points to him, but you dread that fact that you’re standing, that you’re tired enough to give up the fight this quick.

“Fine,” you relent, and it’s less than two minutes before you’re running into him on the back porch, slowly closing the sliding patio door behind you so as to not alert anyone else in the house of his presence. “What do you want?”

“Where are your clothes?” He asks, and is already taking his coat off to wrap around your frame. You huff and puff the entire time he’s doing it, because your lack of clothing was a choice—you were hopeful that he wouldn’t keep you long if you were shivering.

“What do you want, D?”

“I want you to talk to me,” he says. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

Your lip trembles, and you bite down on it to try and stop it, chew on the skin until you taste copper and then it still trembles. You don’t look at him, you can’t. “You can’t fix it.”

“No, no,” he argues, grabbing your elbow in a plea, stepping closer to you, speaking hardly above a whisper. “Just tell me, baby.”

You yank your arm away, tone a direct contrast to his when you insist: “You can’t fix it this time, okay!? Nobody can fix it.” You point an accusatory finger, like there’s actually something he’s done to deserve this. There isn’t, there never will be. “You can’t fucking fix everything just because you want to.”

He matches, points his finger at you, presses it into the middle of your chest. Your heart races. “You can’t just fucking break up with me because you want to.”

You swat his hand away, offended by the accusation that you wanted this, that any part of you is enjoying this, finding relief in this. You hate this. Fucking loathe it, but it doesn’t change any of the facts. “I don’t want to,” your lips downturn into a frown, all pathetic and trembled, and your voice cracks and shakes half as much as your lips. The tears that burn in your eyes are reflected back in his, tired and bloodshot and wet.

“Then don’t do it,” he pleads.

You gulp around the lump in your throat, voice leaving your body meekly through tears. “I have to.”

“No, you don’t,” he assures you quickly, his hands slotting on either side of your face, the pads of his thumbs wiping your tears, his fingers locking into the hair at the nape of your neck. He shakes his head before he speaks, brown eyes searching yours, begging you to change your mind. “You don’t.”

His hands on your face are what push you over the edge, turn you from poised and sniffly to half-wrecked—choking on sobs and swallowing snot. It all hits you at once, all the weeks of testing, the days of trying to come to terms with a diagnosis, the hours spent grappling with the fact that nothing will ever be the same about you. You’re changed, now, and you’re only going to continue to change. It’s not Daniel’s responsibility to see you through any of this fucking shit. “I do, I do,” you sob. “I have to, I’m so sorry, I have to.”

He presses his forehead against yours, your tears mixing with his every time your noses bump. It calms you, if only slightly, and your eyes close, mind focused on remembering this, on remembering what it feels like to have his skin on yours, to feel his voice in your bones, to breathe in the same air, the same space, the same atoms.

Your breath is shaky, but the pattern is steady. In, out. In, out. Your nose is so stuffed you can’t breathe through it. Your lips are all but touching his, a stray tremble holding the power to force them together. You don’t know if you want to kiss him or not, if it would make things better or so much worse.

He swallows hard, pulling your faces apart. “I love you,” he mutters softly, like a wounded animal, and then he presses a long, hard kiss into your forehead.

You sniffle, your hands holding onto his wrists. “I’m sorry.”

He nods, drops his arms, your hands falling into his. “Yeah.”

He lets your hands go, lets you go. You feel like you might be sick watching him walk down the steps of the patio, along the path of pavers to the gate. A shiver runs up your spine, and you pull his jacket closed over your chest. His jacket.

You wipe a new set of tears from your cheek with the back of your hand. “Your jacket,” you sniffle, “hold on.”

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even turn back to face you. “Keep it,” he says, unlatching the gate and slipping through to the other side. You sigh, and then you cough, and then you cry some more before finally finding the ability to move again, to go back inside and up to your bedroom, and that was that. That was the last time you saw Danny. The last moment that he was yours.

— —

You’re walking back from the unbelievable strawberry field, quickly approaching the still lively barn, people and smiles and conversations pouring out into the adjacent spaces. Someone appears in front of you with a camera, with two cameras—one professional, and one a cheap polaroid. Smile, they said, and you laughed, your cheeks burning red.

Daniel slinks his arm over your shoulder, and you step closer to his side. He flashes a toothy grin and a shaka sign to the camera. You hear the shutter of the camera take a dozen photos, and then the photographer holds up the polaroid—one for the road, she says, and Daniel pulls you that little bit closer, you blush that little bit harder.

There’s a flash, and then you both relax, the photo printing out of the bottom of the camera. She holds it out Daniel, but he nudges you with his elbow to take it. You do, even though you aren’t sure you want it.

You shake the polaroid while the two of you make your way into the barn. “What do I do with this?” You ask, looking carefully at the developed print.

Daniel shrugs, leaning over. You flip the photo in his direction so he doesn’t have to lean as far, but he still does. “It’s cute,” he says. “You don’t want it?”

“I mean, I’ll take it, but…” But. But I’m going to throw it away when I get home. But it only reminds me of you. But it only represents what won’t be.

He looks to the wall of photos behind the counter, eyeing the display carefully. You follow his sight line, your eyes going to the exact place you remember the photos of you being. You don’t know why you’re surprised that they’re still there, like you knowing they exist means they’d vanish. “Hang it up,” he says.

You laugh. “Where?”

Daniel shrugs. “Anywhere you want.”

— —

The best part about only being able to afford cheap workers, was that you spent every day at the property with a new teenager looking to have just as much fun as you were. Between that, and the plethora of college kids that were constantly leaving to go back to school, to get a grown-up job, to get any job that paid more than your family could offer—there was always an opportunity for going away parties. And party, you did.

You and your coworkers turned friends had slept down by the river more summer nights than you could count, hiding six-packs in the staff locker-room and hiding ziploc bags of joints behind the six-packs.

Tonight, the going-away party is to honor someone whose face you won’t remember in a year, much less thirteen. He’d worked there for the holidays and not much more, and there wasn’t much memorable about him.

The bonfire on the back of the property snaps and crackles, sparking off into the night and lights everyone in flickers of orange and yellow. The breeze has picked up after dark, and the tank-top and shorts you’d donned earlier in the day aren’t appropriate any more, one of Danny’s hoodies—a purple one that sits in his locker just for you to steal and smells like weed and wood from all the past nights just like this one—takes the chill out of the night and keeps the goosebumps off your exposed legs.

The sky is clear and cloudless, a big moon staring back at you and a million shining stars fill the night sky. It’s times like these you think there’s no prettier place on Earth, nights like these where you feel completely rich.

Two joints are being passed around the circle lazily, laughter and conversation filling the air. The first one comes your way from the left, from Daniel. He takes a long hit, the embers at the end of the paper burning orange with his inhale. He holds it in, nodding his way through someone else’s joke, and exhaling into a laugh.

He looks at you, hesitates to hand it over. “I really don’t want a lecture from your parents tomorrow morning,” he teases, playful smile pulling on his lips, mischievous glint in his eye.

You roll your eyes. “They won’t know,” you insist, to no avail. Daniel chuckles, but holds his resolve and passes the joint around you to the next person.

Undeterred, you keep your eyes on the joint that moves clockwise, that comes to you from the other direction, a path with no Danny-sized roadblock. With practiced ease, you take a hit, exhaling slowly, savoring the warmth in your chest. You meet Danny’s eyes on exhale, find them half-amused and half-concerned, brows raised and smile drawn.

“Whatcha got there?” He laughs, gently taking the joint from her. “I told you not to,” he continues, taking a hit himself before passing it along again. You grin, a wave of giddiness washing over you. It always goes like that when he laughs—makes you all warm and fuzzy and silly.

“It’ll be okay, Danny-boy,” you laugh, leaning against him. Lazily, without hesitation, he tosses his arm over your shoulder and pulls you that much closer. You like being closer, can feel his laugh instead of just hearing it. You like the way his arm rests on your shoulder, the way his fingers trace patterns over the fabric of his sweatshirt, every touch echoing on your skin for minutes. You like being close, even if it makes your palms a little sweatier and your heartbeat a little faster. You could get used to being closer, you think.

The fire is starting to die out now, and the air gets colder. You wonder how long your parents waited up for you to get home. The original excuse was that Daniel had forgotten the lock-check, that you wanted to come along and really, it’s no problem to drive her home. After about fifteen minutes, you’d snuck away from the newly-built fire to make a phone call, to let them know you were grabbing food on the way home and don’t wait up for me. You’re sure they did, though, even if only for a while longer.

Anyway, the air is colder and the joints have been smoked through and the beers have been drunk—not by you, you’re too messy when you’re crossed. And not by Daniel, either, who refuses to drive drunk but insists on driving high.

You yawn under Daniel’s arm, find a way to somehow lean in closer. “Sleepy?” he asks, and you nod. Carefully, like he’s done it a million times before, he presses a kiss into the crown of your head. It’s not the millionth time, it’s not even the second time he’s kissed any part of you. It’s the first time you've felt the press of his lips and you think that you’ll feel it there forever. “You wanna go?”

“No,” you say. “I’ll stay, make sure the fire gets out and everything.”

It’s not much longer, anyway, until the fire is being doused with water bottles and beer and everyone is taking turns spraying the same perfumes and colognes over their clothes in a poor attempt to mask the smell of smoke and weed.

Daniel drives you home. It’s not the first time you’ve been the passenger in his old Ford Bronco. It’s not even the first time you’ve been in the truck while he was high. Usually, car rides with Danny consist of cranked down windows and loud music, of louder conversations and excessive laughter. This drive is quiet, though.

His hands are steady on the wheel, eyes focused on the road ahead. There’s no music, the windows are up, and he doesn’t talk. You watch him carefully from the passenger seat, study him in your paranoia. You haven’t done anything, you don’t think. There’s no reason for him to be mad at you. Unless there is.

“Did you have a good time?” You ask. Danny nods. “That’s good.”

He turns to face you at a stop sign. “Sorry,” he laughs. “I’m trying to focus.”

“It’s okay,” you nod.

“It’s harder,” he explains. “It’s hard with you here.”

— —

The evening you’d anticipated is far from the evening that unfolds. Fifteen minutes, maximum, in and out. That was the plan. But then Daniel—Daniel, and all the far-fetched dreams of him making himself at home in your life, all the passing thoughts you’d had over the years about the what-ifs; the grocery bills and the taxes and the white wine and the rusty barn doors. He glues you to his side for hours that feel like minutes.

The event is winding down, people keep coming up to him, firm pats on the back and handshakes and hugs goodbye. They tell him how great the place is, how great the wine is, how great he is, and you move around like his shadow, smiling awkwardly whenever someone catches your eye and waiting for the next joke Daniel has to crack quietly, just to you.

You stand at a high-table next to him, elbows on the tabletop, shoulders bumping everytime one of you moves. There were people around the table, a reason—an excuse—for the proximity, but they’re long gone now. “You know,” Daniel says quietly, dropping his head against his hands, speaking to nobody in the room but you. “I’ve missed you a lot.”

“Yeah,” you nod, speak just as softly. “Me too.”

He takes a long drink from the wine glass in front of him. Liquid courage, you know now, for what he was going to do next. The glass returns to the tablecloth with a soft pat, and he lets out a heavy exhale. “I heard there’s a new coffee place opening in Northbridge?” He asks, and you assume it’s because he knows your neighborhood, wants to know more about it. The wine has made you naive, or maybe you’d just pushed the reality of his implication so far from your mind that it’s an impossible thought.

“Yeah,” you nod. The new coffee shop in Northbridge is a seven minute walk from your apartment, and is on your way to work. You’ve been eyeing the place since the empty building went up for lease. “It’s got this super cute bakery right next door,” you add. “I think they opened last week.”

Daniel nods. “I’d love to try it out.”

“Yeah,” you continue, still genuine and naive and oh-so silly. “You should. I’ve heard good things.”

He laughs, then. Laughs this specific kind of Daniel laugh that you used to get so excited to hear. It meant he was going to do something for—or to—you. He’d laughed like that before he kissed you for the first time, and he’d laughed like that while orange juice ran down his arm and he asked you out for the hundredth time. He’d laughed like that on every anniversary, every birthday, every holiday. It’s Danny’s you laugh. “I’d need someone to go with, though,” he says. And the laugh and the words and the whole thing clicks. Daniel is trying to ask you out. “I don’t really know my way around Northbridge.”

A lie, objectively. One that confirms the assumption you’d just jumped to. Daniel’s first apartment was in Northbridge. He lived eleven minutes from where you live now. He knows the place like the back of his own hand, knows the streets like he used to know you.

You nod into the bottom of your wine glass, watching the liquid spin around the clear glass. “You don’t?”

He purses his lips, looks all deep in thought. “No,” he shakes his head. “No, I don’t think I do.”

“Oh,�� you frown, your eyes meeting his. It’s really hard to mess with him when he looks at you like that. Hard, but not impossible. “My dad’s usually around.”

He chuckles. “Your dad, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod, a smile pulling impossibly hard on your lips. “Retirement and all, you know.”

“Oh, sure.”

“I guess…” you shrug, stop spinning your glass and set it down altogether. You push it slowly across the tablecloth towards the center. “I could always show you around, too.”

He leans back, stands up straight and scratches his beard, makes a piss-poor attempt at wiping the dimpled smile off his face when he cocks his head to the side and says, “As much as I like your dad…”

“As much as you like my dad.”

And, because Daniel was never really Daniel, because he’s always going to be your Danny, no matter the time or the distance or anything else that should get in the way, he says: “You’ve always been my honeybee.”

— —

“Don’t call me that, Mom,” you shouted from the office, gathering your morning gear. You were working tours with Danny, today, and the two of you had spent all morning bickering over who gets to be lead and who has to be secondary guide. While you shoved the batteries into the walkie-talkies, you could overhear Danny successfully pleading with your Mom. Honeybee, she’d called out to you. Let Danny take Lead today, won’t you?

She laughs. You roll your eyes, slipping behind the counter where she leans, where Danny lounges on a stool. You toss Danny’s walkie at his chest, and he catches it before it hits him. She raises her brows pointedly, meets Danny’s eyes in some shared language, a shared silent remark about you. “Why not?”

“Because. It sounds like something Grandma would say.”

Your mom smiles, twirls the end of your ponytail around her finger. “But you’re so sweet”

Danny chokes on his laugh, shooting up straight in his seat to clear his throat, to cough into his elbow. “She is NOT sweet.”

You scowl, shove his shoulder gently. It only makes him, and your mom, laugh harder. “Hey!”

“You make my life sweet, baby girl,” she hums.

Danny nods, falling back into his comfortable spot, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re kinda like a bee,” he says, leaning back even further. Your entire day would be made by him losing his balance and falling flat on his ass. “You make her life sweet but for me…” he pauses. “You’re just this annoying little buzzing I can’t shoo away.”

Silently, you hold up both middle fingers to him, walking backwards out from behind the counter, towards the back door. Your mom only laughs at you, always laughs at you and Danny. “Love you, Bee,” she calls to you, and winks at Danny.

“Yeah,” he calls, the stool creaking underneath him as he properly stands up. “Love ya, Bee!”

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ariisheresstuff · 6 months

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Sleepless Nights

Pairings: Dad!Carmy x Mom!Reader

Summary: The few days with a two week old baby was stressful, you were going through postpartum depression and it’s killing you. Carmy wakes up to the sounds of whimpers and cries from Kennedy, only to find you crying while comforting her.

Genre: Comfort, slight angst

Warnings: Postpartum Depression, crying, baby crying, stressed reader

MasterList

A/N: My requests are open, have a good day! <3

It was only 1:20 AM and Carmen groaned to the sound of your newborn daughter crying, Carmen turned to your side of the bed only to find you standing next to Kennedy’s crib gently bouncing the small infant. Carmen rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he stood up and walked over to you. He yawned as he rubbed a hand on your lower back, he paused his movements only to feel your body shaking. He gently turned your shoulder only to frown. You were crying.

“Hey, baby, what’s the matter?” Carmy softly whispered to you, he tried cupping your face but you only shook your head looking down at Kennedy to hide your tears.

“I-it’s nothing Carm, g-go back to bed.” You said through hiccups, you softly shushed Kennedy’s cries but only for them to get louder. You were two seconds away from screaming.

“Here, gimme Kennedy baby. Go sit for me.” Carmen quickly took Kennedy out of your arms as he comforted the small child with soft hums and kisses. You sat on the bed hiding your face as you let the tears silently fall. Carmen walked around with the baby to get her fall back asleep.

“There ya go Kenzie, giving mommy such a hard time hm? I know it’s so hard living in a new world, but you gotta be nice to mommy. She’s done so much for you hm?” He said quietly as the small girl started to hiccup dozing back into sleep. Carmen smiled softly before pecking her head before walking over to her crib and placing her slowly down before rocking the crib slowly. After a few minutes he sighed before looking at you, he felt his heart shatter. He walked over to you as he ran his hands down your back in a comforting matter, that only made you sob more.

“Shh, baby. I know, it’s okay. Here, C’mere. Let’s go to the living room okay?” You looked up at him with a cloudy vision and a trembling lib before nodding. Carmen helped you up before taking your hand as he lead you to the quiet living room. He sat you down next to him as he wrapped his arms around you. You both stood there for a few minutes in silence only your sniffled and small whimpers being heard.

“You’re not alone in this, y’know that babe?” He said softly making you wrap your arms around his torso and hugging him tightly. Carmen didn’t hesitate to hug you back. He felt your body shake again.

“I-I’m sorry. I-It’s just too m-much for me, I-i don’t know what t-to do anymore.” You said through sobs, Carmen frowned he cupped your face out of his chest to make you look at him. He wiped away your tears with his thumb before giving you a stern look.

“Look at me Y/N.”

You hesitated before softly opening your red eyes with your eyebrows furrowed. Your bottom lip between your teeth to stop yourself from crying. Carmen pulled your face closer to his as he laid a loving kiss on your lips, you closed your eyes and enjoyed the moment forgetting about everything. Carmy pulled away as he rested his forehead on yours for a moment before pulling away to look at you.

“Don’t ever say sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for, you’re going through a lot baby. A first born isn’t easy, I’ve seen Sugar and Richie deal with it. It’s okay to feel like this Y/N. Don’t think you’re alone on this, I’m here with you, that’s what husbands are for. I love you with all my heart baby, and it kills me to see you go through this stage. But I’m here for you and Kennedy. Please, don’t feel afraid about opening up to me about this.”

More tears fell only for Carmen to quickly wipe them away and bring you head to rest on his shoulder as he hugged you like you would disappear. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you let your emotions fall out.

“Let it out baby, it’s okay.” He whispered as he rubbed your back while kissing your head.

“I-I love you Carmy.” You said into his neck making Carmen smile, you pulled away to face him before giving him another kiss making you both sigh lovingly. You both stayed in each others arms for a few minutes, just enjoying the silence in each others embrace.

“You ready to go back to bed baby?” Carmen said softly into your shoulder, you sniffled before softly nodding. Carmy grunted as he got off the couch and reaching down with his hand gesturing for you to grab it. You grabbed his large hand as he lead you to the bedroom where Kennedy was sleeping. You two quietly entered the room and walked over to her crib on the side of the bed. You both looked down at the sleeping girl, you smiled as you ran a finger on her chubby cheek. You sighed as Carmen kissed the side of your head, you yawned quietly.

“Get some sleep baby, I’ll watch over her.” Carmen whispered making you frown at him.

“But, you have to get up in a few hours for work Bear. It’s fine I’ll stay-

“No babe, you need more sleep than I do. I’m fine baby, really, just please relax. You deserve it. I promise I got it, okay?” He cupped your face as he pecked your forehead clearly telling you to sleep. You sighed before nodding and leaning up to peck his nose. You grabbed his hand on your cheek and placing a kiss on his open palm.

“Thank you Carmy. I love you.” You said with a smile making Carmy smile back.

“And I love you more Y/N, always.” He brought you closer for one more kiss for the night before letting you go to bed.

He sighed as he felt a wave of proudness wash over him, he felt proud of taking care of you. His wife, who needed the comfort. Knowing he’ll always be there for his wife~

Tag-List: @otomefan @chunnies @slasherstories123 @avengersfan25 @th3h0nkz

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taylormarieee · 5 months

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Close Friends Luke Castellan

Summary: After that night you try your best to avoid Luke, but he wasn't going away that easily...

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Fem!Aphrodite!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Confessions, slight angst, Wingman Annabeth, Sexual tension, More sexual tension!!!, Reader avoiding Luke, Clarisse makes a comeback, Clarisse and reader become close friends, sadly a cliffhanger...

It's been a whole 2 days and you have been trying your absolute best to avoid Luke.

Sitting alone during lunch.

Avoiding him during Capture the Flag.

Avoiding him during certain activities that involve partners. You don't know why you kissed him.

You knew him for a day. A DAY! Who on earth catches feelings for someone in a day.

Maybe it was your moms doing but you just couldn't control the feelings you had for him.

He was so cute and incredibly attractive. Who wouldn't want a guy like him.

He's funny, charming, confident, nice, caring, and incredibly handsome.

You were so lost in your thoughts you didn't notice him coming up to you.

3:35pm

"Hey. Can we talk?" He asks you. You look up at him and as our about to make an excuse he shakes his head. "I don't wanna hear a bullshit excuse."

Your eyes widened. You notice he has a serious expression. Not one of happiness and charm like he usually does.

Were you hurting him? Hurting his feelings? You stay silent and he sits down.

"What did I do. You don't talk to me anymore. You don't sit with us anymore. You don't hang with me anymore. Why? Did I do something wrong? Did I upset you in anyway? Were supposed to be friends. You don't even talk to Percy or Grover or Annabeth anymore! What the hell is the problem?!" He says upsetly.

He was pissed. More than pissed, he was furious but he tried his hardest not to show it and yell at you out of anger.

"I-I'm sorry. You didn't do anything wrong and neither did the rest of them." You say glancing over to them as they watch from the other table.

"I just can't be around you anymore..." You whisper lowly hoping he wouldn't here but of course he did.

"W-what?" He asks, fae slowly morphing from angry to sad in a second.

Before you could even explain why your mouth just shut again and he looked at you waiting for a response. Silently pleading for one.

But you didn't say anything. You just sat there and stared at your food. He was tired of your games now.

It's either you had feelings for him like he has for you or you didn't want to be with him at all.

"Fine. Don't even tell me. If you didn't want to be friends, you should have said that. Can't believe this." He scoffs and aggressively gets up. Leaving you there.

You try to silently cry as you watch him leave. Percy, Annabeth, and Grover watch as he storms off and watch you just sit there with tears leaving your eyes.

They were all confused but didn't even go to comfort you, and they had every right not to...

4:30pm

You were practicing with a bow and arrow when you see Annabeth out of the corner of your eye.

"Hey. Nice shots." She compliments. You smile at her and she returns it.

"T-Thanks." You say quietly. She frowns and looks at you. "I know what happened. You kissed Luke." She says nonchalantly.

Your eyes widen. "He told you!?" You ask so embarrassed. She chuckles and shakes her head.

"He told Percy. He was so giddy and happy when he told percy and then Percy told me." She responds

Hearing that made your heart drop. He was happy? "You really hurt him ya know. He was crying and i've never seen Luke cry. He's tough, but something...Something about you did made him fly to the moon. Made him smile wider than before." She says.

"He's my family. I don't like when he's sad. Please make amends with him." She says before walking away.

You stand there and think about what she said before walking away to your cabin.

9:25pm

You were on your way to the dinner when Clarisse came up to you. Her arms up in a surrendering manner.

"Not here to fight. Here to talk." She says with a smile on her face. "O-Ok."

You guys walk in silence towards the banquet hall and Your eyes catch Luke and Percy staring at you before looking away and talking.

You furrowed your bros wondering what they were saying. You sit down with Clarisse and she smiles.

"I wanted to be friends. I respect what you did, standing up for yourself. So ca we be friends, start over?" She asks staring at you.

You stare back and smile, "Yea, sure!" You respond with a smile. "Can you wait right here, I need to go talk to someone."

"Ugh I was actually gonna go back to my brothers and sisters. There waiting on me." She says.

"Ok. Peace out Clarisse." You say walking away towards Percy and Luke.

"Luke. C-Can we talk? I'm so sorry and I didn't mean to hurt you. Annabeth told me about everything and I really thought about it and I'm sorry. After kissing you I just overthink it and I didnt know how you felt nor w-why I kiss-" Your ranting to him and your interrupted by him wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you.

"I didn't tell her anything." Annabeth appears. Secretly standing there the whole time thanks to her hat her mother gave her.

You chuckle and look at him when he breaks the hug. "Your adorable pretty girl you know that?" He says with a smile on his face.

"I'm sorry for what I said. Shouldn't have snapped on you like that. I was just so mad because I thought you didn't like me back." He says

"Friends?" You ask.

"Friends. Close friends." He says with a wink on his face. You giggle and sit with them for the rest of the night until it's time to go to bed.

10:57pm

Luke was walking you to your cabin. "I love you Luke. I mean granted it's only been 3 days since i've known you, I just adapted a crush on you." You confess.

"I've loved you the moment we made eye contact." He says chuckling at how corny that is.

"I guess it was love at first sight." You say chuklong with him.

"God that's so corny..."

"But true. I am the daughter of Aphrodite after all." You say laughing. He smiles at your laugh. He could listen to it on repeat all day.

You guys finally reach the cabin and he stops in front of you. "Welp this is my stop." You say.

"This is your stop M'lady." He says with a smirk as he bows. You giggle and playfully hit his arm.

"Get up you goofball." You tell him, "Before we get caught."

"But that's what's so fun about it." He says smirking at you. You two just stand there staring at each other.

"Well, uh I'm gonna go." You say smiling before walking up the steps to your cabin.

"Hey wait!" He yells before running up to you. He grabs your waist and kisses you.

You kiss him back passionately and gently grab his curls. He pushes you softly against the door of the cabin eagerly grabbing your soft hips and your waist.

"See you tomorrow pretty girl." He says smirking before walking away.

"Wait! What does this make us?"

"Very Close friends." He says with a wink.

"But Luke I don-"

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!" Chiron yells out.

Oh no... You two were in deep shit...

Taglist: @angelicdanvers @rhydianissuperior @csifandom @prettyinsatiable @reader-bookling123 @istillremberthefirstfallofsnow @lizziesfirstwife @glorywielder101 @kneehe-nehar7

A/N: Huge thank you to all of you for reading and leaving comments! I really appreciate it! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter! I will be posting the next chapter tommorrow! Huge thank you to @angelicdanvers again because without her I wouldn't have even been inspired to do this!

#luke castellan pjo #luke castellan imagine #lukecastellan #luke castellan #pjo x reader #pjo series #pjo tv show #pjo show #charlie bushnell

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yourpsicodelicbitch · 2 months

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chiron observations ❤️‍🩹

TW: it’s chiron, you k what’s coming.

natal south node 9H opposition solar chiron 3H in retrograde: lesson i was meant to live, in this case about communication. later on that year, I communicated the situation -I needed help- but throughout that time I was struggling to process the information. south node 9H represents the knowledge i acquired and the lesson i had to experienced to let others know about that knowledge. retrograde shows difficulties on expressing themselves, scared of being judged, delays, etc.

solar moon conjunct natal chiron: wounds who were deeply hidden in the past, that you didn’t remember, are now in front of your eyes and you cannot stop but observe directly. injustices with your mom, resentfulness and emotions you could not hide anymore are now part of your daily routine. it’s like someone hits you with a rock and you can’t stop bleeding/crying.

syrinx (3360) aspecting chiron: it’s giving fear of rejection, literally, that’s your trauma. asteroid syrinx represents your attitude towards rejection and high expectations towards you. I have it in opposition, through my whole life I have been what others wanted me to be. I, even as a child, controlled my respiration to not disturbed others. a period of time I suffered bc I believed with all my soul I shouldn’t live bc of the high expectations, rejection, I wasn’t able to fit in the box, I tried to. it’s been a whole process, to acknowledge -of course- I don’t want and don’t have to be what others want me to be to be happy. I share this to show how you can use what you’ve struggled with and turn it into something you can master, take advantage of it for your own good: the power of chiron.

solar chiron trine natal venus: you’re experiencing what venus represents -relationships, every kind, etc.-, what you craved for a long time, but chiron it’s not gonna bring it up pretty. you’re learning through these experiences. depends on the aspect the intensity and type. in this case, it’s happening -what your natal venus craves- but you’ll learn to confront the situation -bc of the trine aspect that kinda shows the intensity chiron has-. and it’s not going to be as you wished at first… for example, my bestie went on her first date -she’s a hopeless romantic but won’t show it- but she didn’t like the guy and then she told him and that guy dated her friend, she was shocked and obviously affected but then she stood up. for a long time she struggled to make friends, in this period of time finally she got their gurls, but at the begging there were difficulties she turned out to handle really well.

chiron 6H in mars return chart could mean difficulties on your health, keeping up with a sport? routine, have a routine, you could find yourself stressed out about it. you’re starting to analyze more things.

the degree of your chiron in sr chart can tell about your attitude in front of that situation, house would indicate what type of situation you’re dealing with.

example

⤥ solar chiron 11H 17° (leo degree): after my birthday -after solar return starts- i had a “fight” with a “friend” of the group I was part of, and besides that, I was starting to not feeling it with the friend group. it was a journey of a domino effect were I opened my eyes and saw they weren’t sparkling anymore -for me-. so i decided to distance myself, to start a journey of “standing by myself”. I started to do shit by myself, focusing that energy -used on others- on me. it’s giving developed leo energy.

the aspects chiron has represents how you deal with trauma, in any type of chart.

example

⤥ trine natal lilith 7H 18° (virgo degree): continuing with the chiron mentioned before, I struggled with my friendship so I “rebelled” to the situation I wasn’t comfortable with and started to be more independent -some characteristics lilith (mean) represents-. nowadays and never I think, it has been seen as good to do what you want to do without masks. in this case, I left the group and opened my eyes about the girl I “fought”, since the beginning she had some envy attitudes towards me I couldn’t decipher. 7H also represents enemies. virgo degree it’s at it finest when I stopped and analyzed the whole situation, being picky.

i don’t want to misinform or alarm the ones who are reading this, pls don’t take this seriously, it’s an observation I made based on others experiences, this post is not a must do book.

having a lot of chiron aspects in sr it’s giving you’re gonna experience something really traumatic. I’ve seen the solar return charts of family who lost their son/brother, between the year they’ve lost him and the other year, there’s more than 4 aspects. I believe it’s bc of the trauma effect. HOWEVER, pls remember the warning I made earlier.

9H chiron opposition saturn: I have a friend who was born in another country but she stays in another but she has to come back to her natal country to maintain her nationality. she told me his older brother had to be the “dad” bc her parents go back and ford to that another country for work, this means she lacks of a stable father figure, someone who’ll be strict with her, someone who she can support herself, and authority. could be loners.

urania (30) aspecting chiron: urania represents astrology/astronomy/cosmology. in greek mythology, urania was one of the nine muses, the goddess of the topics mentioned before and of universal love and holy spirit. when’s aspecting chiron, that represents how we can grow from our suffer, how we transform that pain and traumatic event that impacted our lives. it appears this connection. astrology is used as a way of healing, of knowing themselves. introspection. feel seen and being even shocked by how accurate astrology can be and how it makes you feel understood. I LOVE YOU SO FCKING MUCH ASTROLOGY THANKYOU BC OF YOU IM ALIVE HDHKWBFND. I have that aspect 🧍‍♀️-this was on my drafts on a post called “astrology helped to heal”, should I post it?

(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა ∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗ */ᐠ - ˕ -マ✩ (˶˃ᆺ˂˶)∗ ࣪

♡ Based on personal experience and I’ve analyzed in my surroundings.

♡ English is not my first language.

♡ I’m not a profesional astrologer.

Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋

Do not copy. Please give me credits.

#astrology #astro observations #pinterest #astro posts #astro placements #astro notes #chiron #chiron observations #birth chart #solar return

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margotw10bis · 3 months

Text

Pretty Baby.KNJ [m]

sugardaddy!namjoon x sugarbaby!reader

Genre: smut; short-story

Words: 4.9k

Synopsis: Namjoon is your sugar daddy. However, you can't deny how your heart is jumping in your chest when he calls you his "pretty baby"…

Warnings: rough sex; unprotected sex; anal sex; first anal; oral sex (f. receiving); Namjoon is huge 😳; he loves ass; use of "daddy"

1 → 2 → 3 (Bonus : Memories ; Doubts & Possibilities)

What just happened? Namjoon is so shocked about your demand that he just stays still for several minutes. He has never imagined, in a thousand years, that you, his pretty baby, would put an end at your relationship like that. Were there signs he didn't see? Were you unhappy? He genuinely thought that you liked spending time with him, especially since he started to make efforts to know you better. He even thought that you liked him. But you obviously don't.

He wanted to tell you to change your mind, to think about it, that he could change if you wanted him to, but it would have been selfish. It was already too damn selfish willing to keep you for himself when he was fucking other girls — even if he doesn't anymore.

He thought that something changed the last time you two had sex. It was different, more real. Did he imagine everything? It looks like it since you just stepped out of his office after throwing a bomb at him. Fuck. But then, why would you look so sad? Everything is messed up in his head, he can't think straight.

More than the surprise caused by your announcement, Namjoon feels something truly unpleasant in his chest and he wishes it was just his ego. But it's not. He knows damn well it's his heart. Once again: fuck.

————

"I don't understand you, honestly" Jimin sighs

Yeah, you neither. You regret so, so much what you did yesterday. You clearly let Lisa messing up with your brain. You should have trusted Namjoon rather than her. You were so afraid of being hurt that you pushed him away and you hurt yourself instead. That's fucking stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

"I don't need you to tell me I've fucked up, Jimin. I need you as my best friend to support me and tell me everything is going to be fine" You say with a shaky voice, ready to start crying, again

"Come here" He whispers to hug you and rub your back

"Can I stay here tonight?"

"Of course you can. We are going to watch your favorite show on Netflix and eat some pizzas. How does it sound?"

You look at your best friend and feel so damn lucky to have him. You rub your eyes to get rid off the last tears and get the TV remote.

In another part of the town, Namjoon opens the door of the apartment. Your apartment. He can't just give up like that, without even fighting. But the place is desperately empty. No lights on, no noise. You are simply not here. He still has a ridiculous slight hope when he opens the door of your bedroom. Yet, your face is no where to be seen. Namjoon's heart squeezes. Where the fuck are you?

He is not sure you will show up tonight so he decides to leave and go meet his parents. Maybe he could use some advices from a 40-year married couple.

Namjoon's mom is super excited to see her busy son. It's pretty rare he comes eat with them. But her smiles fades when she notices the look on his face. He looks tired and sad. Defeated. It breaks her heart to see him like this.

They sit in the comfortable and huge sofas of the living room. Every single furniture of their mammoth house is expensive. Namjoon's parents love buying costly things but also giving their money to people who need it. Maybe that's why Namjoon doesn't have any problem with spoiling his sugar babies.

"Can I ask you guys something?" He asks, unsure

"Of course, honey" His mom says

"How did you become a couple? Was it easy?"

His parents share a glance, half surprised half amused. Namjoon has never wanted to hear about love before.

"It was certainly not easy" His dad starts "Your mom is pretty stubborn. I gave her many presents, expensive jewelries and so on. But she didn't care at all. I honestly thought she wasn't interested"

"I didn't care about the money. I cared about him and his feelings. You know, love is not just words but acts too. However, the acts don't have to take the material form of gifts" The woman continues

"So how?" Namjoon asks

"Spending time with each other. Small acts of consideration. Actually, the best acts of love are the simplest ones because they show how sincere you are and that you care about the small details" Her mom answers

Namjoon takes a few moments to think about it. He has shown his affection with presents. Expensive ones, even. But you, you are full of those simple acts of consideration his mom is describing. You made sure he wasn't tired or that he ate well. You changed your shampoo when you noticed Namjoon's scrunched nose at the smell of it even if he didn't say anything about not liking it. You distracted him with a mind-blowing blowjob on the day he lost a huge contract. Fuck, everything you have done the past few months was little acts that made him slowly fall in love with you. But maybe you didn't think Namjoon cared about you too.

"Is this about the girl from the mall?" Namjoon's mom asks carefully

"Yeah, but I'm not sure she really wants to be with me" He replies honestly

"I think she does. The look she was giving you, it doesn't lie, honey"

Those words are what Namjoon needed. Now, he has to find a way to see you again.

————

You have thought about it all day. Should you? It's Namjoon's birthday and you were invited by his mom. But it's also true that you told him you wanted to end things... However, you miss him so bad and it has only been five days.

You check yourself in the mirror. Yes, you have thought about not going but you have still gotten ready. Your heart beats so loud that you wonder how it is not showing through the soft material of your white silk dress — great metaphor of your willing to go back from the start and start on a new page.

It's Namjoon's birthday. And you miss him. And you love him. The only thing holding you back is you and your fear of being hurt. Are going to stay alone your entire life because of that? That would be so pathetic. Fuck, Namjoon gave you so much confidence, where did it go? You would be so disappointed in yourself if you don't at least try. So you fix your mascara for the last time and head to Namjoon's party.

The house is way bigger than you thought, especially because it's in Seoul center. You can't imagine the price of it. You knock on the front door and a fucking butler invites you inside. You are stressed, you can feel your hands shaking. Thankfully, there are no too many people — you guess just family and close friends. That makes you wonder what you are doing here. Everyone is so elegant and, even if you have put on one of your most beautiful dresses, you don't seem to belong here.

"Boring party, isn't it?"

You jolt as a male voice whispers in your ear. You turn your head and meet some very handsome man. He could easy be elected World Wide Handsome. His brown hair looks smooth and his eyes are sparkling with playfulness. Let's not talk about his juicy and plump lips. Fuck, every women must be jealous of it.

On the other side, the stranger is quite amused by your shyness. He also wonders what such a pretty girl is doing it. If his friend Namjoon has you as a friend, Seokjin would be upset and disappointed that he didn't introduce you to him before. Yes, the man is a womanizer but a very picky one: he seems to date only the most beautiful women.

"I'm Seokjin by the way"

"Y/N" You reply, shyly

Seokjin's eyes widen. Are you Y/N? Like the woman his friend can't shut up about lately? Oh, things are about to get interesting... Now he understands Namjoon. You look very pretty in that dress, almost a sexy version of a cute bride. Yep, Namjoon will go crazy when he sees you and the slight shadow of your nipples through the thin and smooth fabric. But for now, he is not here and Seokjin is a flirt.

"I'm honored to meet the most beautiful woman of the night" He says with a seductive tone

You don't really know what to say so you just thank him. Is he flirting? Oh my god, how are you going to escape him?

"It's the glass I wanted to bring to my friend but I rather offer it to a pretty girl" He continues, handing you a glass of champagne

You take it. You need alcohol to gather your courage, especially if Namjoon tells you to go fuck yourself after what happened in his office. You drink the glass one shot.

"Well! You go faster than Dom Toretto!" Seokjin jokes, laughing so loud than a few people turn toward you

His laugh also attracts Namjoon's eye. However, he doesn't see his friend. The only thing that seems to be visible to him is you. You came. And you look so fucking gorgeous. Namjoon recognizes the silk dress, it was his birthday gift for you. It looks so good on you that Namjoon's brain starts picturing you in all kinds of situations — both with and without the dress on. He wonders if it's the kind of dress you would wear for your wedding day. And after your marriage, what you would look like with a baby in your belly, his baby. How proud he would be to have you by his side and how everyone could see you belong to him.

Okay, his brain is definitely sick because those are ridiculous thoughts. You said you didn't want this relationship with him. But, what are you doing here?

Namjoon walks toward you and your heart stops when you see him. He is the definition of handsomeness. And he is wearing a fucking black — Prada it seems — suit with a white shirt. It's the look you prefer on him. This is torture for you, especially if it's the last time you see him.

"Hi" You almost whisper

"Hi" His voice is neutral and you don't know if it's a good thing "Can I talk to you, in private?"

You gulp and nod. Fuck, you are stressing so much. He invites you to follow him and he leads you to his bedroom. A huge place actually with not only a king size bed but also a sofa and a large bookshelf. All the furnitures are matching, even the pattern of the fabric. The color scheme, warm beige with hints of green here and there, is soothing — something you really appreciate right now.

There are so many things you want to say but nothing seems to form on your tongue. You can't look at him. You are so overwhelmed by your feelings that you could cry.

"I'm surprised you're here" Namjoon says

There is no reproach in his voice, he is just sincerely surprised. You can understand. But is it a good or a bad thing?

"I can leave if you want"

'But please don't say you want me to leave' You pray internally

"No, I'm actually glad you're here"

Your heart does a backflip in your chest and you look at him with hope.

"I'm so sorry for what I've said" You say as you are gathering all your courage "I don't want to end the contract"

"But I do"

Your whole body freezes. Your heart stops too, in a painful way. It hurts so bad, like your soul is torn apart. So that's it. It's the end for Namjoon and you. Fuck, you wish you could go back and never went to his office. You would do anything to go back in time.

A breathless 'Oh' leaves your lips, like you have received an uppercut in the stomach — well, it's pretty much what you feel.

Namjoon gets closer and notices your eyes watering. Words are not enough to express what he is feeling so he does what he does best. He captures your lips and kisses you deeply. You moan both in surprise and pleasure. You don't know what the kiss means but you are ready to take whatever he is giving to you if it's the last time you see him.

Namjoon wraps his arms around your small frame. The silk of the dress is so smooth under the tip of his fingers, but not as smooth as your skin. His hands go down and find your ass. He makes sure to lift the fabric and digs his palms into the flesh of your asscheeks. The cold air on your hot skin makes you gasp in pleasure. He growls as he missed it so much.

You pull him closer by grabbing the back of his neck. His lips travel down your jaw and then to the thin skin of your throat. His wet kisses make you shiver and create a pool of arousal between your legs, especially when Namjoon sucks on your skin. A reddish mark adores your neck. Namjoon smiles at it. You are so beautiful, you can't go out without a stamp of him.

Namjoon doesn't stop. He firmly grabs your ass and lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his torso and secure your arms around his large shoulders. You are now higher than him and it gives him the opportunity to dig his face into your breasts. He messily kisses your boobs and captures your harden nipples with his teeth through the fabric of the dress. Namjoon smirks when he notices you don't wear a bra and bites your nipple a little harder, making you whimper. Your head rolls back and you arch your back to give him a better access.

Your soaked pussy also needs friction so you start grinding on his abs. You need him so bad. You are stressed and horny when you think about what you are going to do.

Namjoon walks to his bed and sits on it, you still inside his arms. The new position makes it easier for you to grind on his lap. You can clearly feel his hard-on against your clothed cunt. You tug on his hair to access his lips and you kiss him like there is no tomorrow.

"Damn, baby, you're on fire" He jokes against your lips

"I want you" You moan, there is no better way to say the truth

You pull off and stand up between his muscled legs. You can see lust in Namjoon's brown eyes but also some affection in them. It gives you confidence to carry on. You take off your dress and the sight of your body almost completely bare makes Namjoon's cock twitch in his pants. He can't help but caress himself through the fabric, and his dick gets even harder. You slid down your ridiculously small and wet panties to stand entirely exposed in front of him. You finally take off your heels, your feet thanking you for that. You feel fragile but also proud to have the courage to completely give yourself to the man you love. You will have nothing to regret, even if tonight is the last night you'll ever spend together.

Your breathe is shaky and your hands are sweaty. Fuck, stress makes your legs weak but you have made up your mind way before entering Namjoon's parents' house. You are prepared, both mentally and physically for what is coming. You now have to trust yourself and Namjoon. You turn around and give Namjoon a perfect view of your ass he loves so much. You slightly bend over so he can see both your holes. Your pussy is so wet that Namjoon's breathe on it makes you clench.

"Fuck, baby" Namjoon whispers as it was the most beautiful thing he has ever seen

"It's your birthday present" You say shyly

Namjoon is taken aback. Is it what he is thinking about?

"What do you mean?" He asks, clearing his throat — he wants to be sure he is not over-interpreting

You take a deep breathe and reply.

"You can have my ass tonight"

It's like a dream came true for Namjoon. He has been dreaming about it for months. Your perfect ass. He wanted to stretch it every time he squeezed your cheeks. It must be so fucking tight. Just thinking he will finally be able to dive in it could be enough to make him cum in his pants.

He doesn't waste any time and starts licking your glistening pussy. You moan about how starved he looks. He is literally making out with your pussy and it's so fucking hot. His tongue rolls on your clit, then digs in your entrance to go back to your clit again. It's so good that your legs quiver. At some point, Namjoon takes a fat licking from your sensitive bud to your pussy entrance but continues higher to your other hole.

You whimper as Namjoon takes big laps of it. The new sensation is beyond words. You feel way more sensitive. You have to grab his hair behind you when he enters your pussy with two fingers, still wetting your puckered hole. Namjoon's face is so deep between your asscheeks that it's scandalous but fuck it feels good.

He leaves your hole one second to bite on the flesh of your perfect ass. His fingers pumping into your dripping cunt are delightful, especially when he goes deep and fast, making your legs weak. You can feel some arousal going down your inner thighs.

"Keep going, I'm gonna cum" You moan

Seeing you liking it makes Namjoon so fucking happy. He could eat your ass all day. Your hole is damn soaked right now and Namjoon starts entering it with his tongue. You're so sensitive, you're not sure to can handle it. Namjoon speeds it pace in your pussy and you almost scream. You tighten your fingers in his hair, bringing him deeper against your ass and he growls. Your pussy clenches and Namjoon digs his tongue further in your hole, almost not able to breathe. You know how sinful you look but fuck, Namjoon is tonguing your ass. The wave of bliss you know well in growing inside you but there is something different, something that makes it more powerful and your teased area is more sensitive. You can't hold any longer and you cum on his face and fingers. Choked screams of his name escape from your lips. Namjoon grabs you in his arms to prevent you from falling.

He puts you on his bed delicately as you're coming back down to Earth. He lets you rest a little and take off his clothes.

"Are you sure you want this?" He asks you, kissing your lips tenderly

"Yes, just be gentle" You say

You are crushing everything in him right now. The trust you put in him doesn't only fill his pride but also his heart. He promises: he is going to fuck your ass so good that you won't ever want him to stop.

"Tell me if you want to stop, okay baby?"

He kisses your forehead and spoons you. You feel his large and buff chest against your back but the way he holds you is so sweet that you push your ass closer to his cock with an urged need of feeling him. He places your upper leg a little forward to have a better access to your ass. He also makes sure to bring a good amount of your juices to your hole and to his large cock to lube them.

"I'm going to stretch you a little, I don't want to break you" He whispers in your ears "Yet" He adds playfully to make you laugh

Namjoon slowly pushes one finger in your so tight hole and you gasp. You hold on his other arm wrapped around your waist. He softly starts back and forth moves. It hurts a little but it's also so fucking good.

"Try to relax, it will hurt less" Namjoon says as he pecks your shoulder

You do as he says and you notice how easier it makes for him to finger you. He adds other finger and you almost cum instantly. Fuck, it's so good. You can't even describe how it feels. It's like you can feel him better, deeper. All the sensations are increased.

Namjoon enhances his pace when he sees you feeling more pleasure. He can't wait to put his dick in and to make you cum all over it. Your tight hole is going to feel so good around his length.

"Fuck, I need your cock"

Namjoon is beyond happy to fulfill your wish. He pulls off his fingers and grabs his cock. You feel his tip slightly entering your pussy to gather some of your arousal and then going up to your ass. He pushes to enter you but he is so fucking big.

"Come on, baby, I know you can take it" Namjoon encourages you

You gasp as his tip is inside you. You feel so fucking stretched. Pleasure and pain have never been this connected. You dig your nails deep inside his forearm but he doesn't care: you are fucking taking his cock in your fucking ass. Namjoon caresses your stomach to soothe the pain and keeps kissing your shoulder. He is so gentle you could die.

"Are you okay?"

You nod and Namjoon pushes deeper. You feel every single inch entering you and stretching you. You know he is not entirely in you but you're not sure to take more of him. Namjoon seems to feel it and he slowly pulls over, not completely, to push inside again. You start moaning, louder and louder as Namjoon pounds faster. The pain is still here but the pleasure... Oh god, it's beyond words.

"Fuck, Joonie" You moan as he enters your hole deeper

"You're doing great, baby. It's the best birthday present ever"

He grabs your asscheek and squeezes it hard. He spreads it to look at his dick fucking your ass. Feeling your very tight hole stretched by his huge cock is delightful. Especially when he is the first one. The thought makes his dick twitch inside your ass. He enhances the pace a little when he sees you relaxing and having pleasure. He feels so proud of it, that his cock provides you pleasure. That his cock is fucking your ass. He growls when he realizes it.

"You're so fucking perfect. Your ass feels so good"

The bliss is driving him crazy. He could fuck you so rough that you wouldn't be able to walk for days. But it's your first anal, he can't just destroy you. He grabs your chin to kiss you. Your hand reaches the back of his head. He gives you one hard dick stroke, making you scream his name. You don't even care that other people in the house hear you.

"That's it, scream my name, baby. Tell everyone who fucks you good"

"It's you, Namjoon" You moan loudly

He starts pounding pretty hard and fast in your ass and you're on the edge. Namjoon captures your throat with his large palm. He is almost entirely inside your ass and you feel him so deep. You have never felt so full. You start feeling a huge orgasm building inside you, despite your empty and clenching pussy.

"My pretty baby" He moans when sounds of skins clapping starts filling the room

You're so close to cum. Namjoon looks at your perfect ass taking his cock. Your cheeks get spanked by his thighs and abs every single time. He is not as gentle as at the beginning but he can't hold himself, especially when he notices how fucked up you look. You love his dick in your ass, he can feel it. He swears, he is going to fuck your perfect little ass harder the next time and you will beg for more. The show is so sinful that it spurs Namjoon to push deeper inside your ass, now entirely. He doesn't even know how you manage to take his dick in your tight hole but one thing is sure: you do and you do it fucking well.

"Oh, fuck!" You hiss "I gonna cum"

Namjoon smirks and slaps the side of your ass. You feel your empty pussy clenching. He seems to hear your silent prayers and the hand around your waist goes South to slide two fingers into your cunt, making you groan loudly. You feel so full of him that you can't help tightening your holes. Namjoon is fucking your ass so good. He hides his face in the crook of your neck and hugs you tighter in his arms as he pounds you deeper.

"Cum for me, baby" He whispers, almost begging you as he feels he won't last long

Your hole is too tight and it feels too good to have you in his arms. It feels so good to see how much you trust him — you let him fuck your ass for god's sake!

"Yes, yes!" You scream, loosing your mind over the pleasure

"Fuck, I love your ass" He growls, the vibration echoing into your core

You can't hold on any longer and you cum hard on his cock and his fingers buried deep in your pussy, almost crying of how huge is the wave of pleasure washing over you. You mumble some words you don't even know as you are high. So high, way beyond clouds.

Namjoon pounds a few more times into your tight ass and releases his cum inside. He hugs you so tight, leaving your pussy empty again but still inside your ass, like he is afraid you vanish.

You two stay like that a moment. You can't believe Namjoon just fucked you ass. You also can't believe how much you liked it. You almost fall asleep, you don't want to leave his embrace. You feel good, peaceful. You hum in content and scoot closer into his chest.

"Did you mean it?" He asks suddenly

"What?"

"That you love me"

Your body tenses and your eyes open wide. What? How does he know? You pull over, running at the opposite side of the huge bed. You try to cover your naked body with your hands. You look so panicked, almost terrified.

"It's okay if you didn't mean it" Namjoon reassures you, even though it breaks his heart to see how you are reacting right now

Did you just confessed your love while you were having an orgasm? Well, the best orgasm ever, but still. You're so ashamed. You didn't want to tell him like that. Fuck, when you tell Jimin you said 'I love you' to Namjoon while his dick was in your ass, he is going to laugh so loud...

You are ready to deny it but when you see Namjoon's face, you can't lie. You do love him. You can't keep being a coward and lying to Namjoon and to yourself.

"I meant it. I love you, Namjoon" You confess in a whisper

The silence is killing you. Especially when it's the exact moment you brain chooses to remind you that Namjoon said he wanted to end the contract too.

"That's a good thing" He says, surprising you "Because I love you too"

He gets closer to you and caresses your cheeks. Okay, you have always loved how kind he was after sex but the way he is looking at you right now, it make your heart melt so much it hurts. You can't help kissing him. Namjoon chuckles against your mouth and hugs you tighter. Honestly, he could fuck you again. No, he could make love to you.

"Say it again" You ask

"I love you"

His bright smile with his dimples brings so much happiness to you. Is it possible to die over joy? Because you could right now.

"Okay, there is no contract anymore but I'm not gonna lie, you're still my pretty baby"

You giggle.

"I have to tell you something" You say, pricking his curiosity "I'm jealous so don't you dare having another baby"

"I'm all yours" He reassures you

Like you said, Namjoon has always been honest with you. So you believe him when he says there is nobody else.

"I think we should go back to the party. I can't not showing at my own birthday"

You nod but wince when you sit.

"Are you okay?" Namjoon asks, worried

"Yes, it just hurts a little" You confess, cheeks reddening

Is it bad that he feels proud of it? He wasn't exactly soft but he definitely can get rougher and honestly, he can't wait to pound into your ass again. Or your pussy. He doesn't care as long as he can give you pleasure.

Namjoon helps you standing up and getting dressed. Your beautiful silk dress is now completely crumpled. You pout at it and Namjoon finds you so pretty. Now that he knows you love him, his brain is even crazier than before: images of you in a white dress walking down the wedding hall or of you with a round belly are stuck in his head. But he definitely can't go as fast, he will scare you.

Does that mean that he will wait for years? Absolutely not. His pretty baby better be prepared for her Christmas present. Especially after the best birthday present he has ever had: you saying that you loved him too.

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calehenituse-brainrot · 2 months

Text

Blurry Faces

Cale Henituse | Kim Rok Soo x Transported!Reader

Cale hated peeking into your life without your consent, and yet here he is, seeing the things you have went through and how they shaped you to be the person you were.

trigger warning: implied sexual assault and pseudo-incest, mentions self-harm scars, suicide, death.

You don't know where you are. A man, no, a child is holding your hand. You don't know anymore. Faces and bodies are morphing too quickly for you to comprehend.

"Please." A voice pleads to you, the way it has been doing for the last few days. Has it been days? Years?

"I don't want to," you say with a broken voice, tired of rejecting this request over and over again. "I don't know you."

"Yes, you do," the voice insists, sounding like a chorus of people talking. "You are the reason why we are here, why we have a home."

John disappeared a long time ago, taking his pleasant memories with him. He had faded slowly to the point he was unable to acknowledge you before he completely disappeared, leaving you alone. You were left alone and in the dark, as your memories played over and over again, good and bad. His memories no longer overlapped yours and you no longer see him. The memories that flashed in front of you had begun growing shorter and shorter, cutting the memories of you and Cale along with the others as if it never happened.

You feel like you were being gaslit. You remember waking up to see Cale, holding his hand and crying over him. You remember the sweet tea you share with Rosalyn, the amused grins with Alver, and the laughs of the children. You remember them. Let me remember them.

"They don't exist," insisted the voice.

"They do!" You fought back. You will hold onto these memories until your fingernails bleed and claw marks appear on them. You don't care. The moment you let go, you know you cannot have them back. You cannot enjoy life anymore if you let them go. "They're my-"

"They are your nothing," the voice spat. You feel rigid hands held onto you and force you to turn around. You were faced with the scene of your life before, one with your father when you were a child.

You see your child self sat on her father's lap, grasping at his shirt as your child self looked out at the rowdy playground, much too shy and scared to join the other kids. You see your father's large hand patting your back comfortingly, bouncing your child self on his knee to soothe you. You hear your father's comforting words as he talks to your child self.

"Come on, sweetie," says your father in a soothing voice; his voice so soft that you were stunned at the memory of the tenderness he was showing you. "I'm here for you. Take your time."

"No!" You exclaimed, turning away from the scene and walking away until the scene faded away. "Stop it!"

A scene of your mother appeared, her holding resting on a hospital bed with her face laden with sweat and tears. She held onto a bundle of blankets, cooing with tears in her eyes as she spoke to her baby. "Hi, [Name]."

What is all this? Why are these things happening? Why are you being shown the love within your mother's eyes for the first time here, and not when she was still alive? Why does your father comforting you over a rowdy playground have been so easy, but not when you started to show symptoms of depression?

"No, no, no!" You yelled, crouching down and covering your ears, eyes closed tight as tears threatened to spill. "They're all dead to me!"

"[Name]," a familiar voice called, too soft to the point it felt foreign.

Suddenly, you were five again.

You look up at the faces of your parents, young and not yet influenced by their suppressed emotions and rage. Your mother smiled at you and your father pats your [h/c] hair.

"Come here," says your mother softly, kneeling down and hugging you so gently that you burst into tears. This is not your mother. Or is she? You don't know. You never thought of her to be capable of showing tenderness or love in a way that wouldn't hurt you.

"Mom," you cried. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry--"

"Sshh," your mother says in a comforting voice.

"I was--" You struggled to breathe as you tried to hold down your sobs, tears streaming nonstop and your throat hurt from the strain you're putting on it for not crying out. "Please, go away."

"No, I love you," she replied, and your lips quivered, more tears streaming down.

"I hate you."

"I know," she murmured. "I still love you."

You don't need her love. You have taught yourself to love yourself, to be better and other people have loved you immensely. You don't need her love. You have enough of your own.

"I hate you," you whisper breathlessly.

"I love you."

You broke down, crying to her shoulder, your arms limp by your side as you refused to hug her. Your mother doesn't deserve a hug from you. You've cut your skin too many times as a result of her actions and you will not show her love with the same arms.

"My baby," your father says softly, joining the hug. His hands felt rigid and when you looked down, his nails were caked with dirt underneath them.

"Stay here with us."

Cale covered his mouth and nose when he saw what was underneath the roots of the main tree of the island.

Piles of skeletons filled what used to be a great hall underneath the roots, most of them stacked high on the stone altar. They were all brittle and dry, proof that it had been a long time since they all died. Despite that, the stench of a rotten corpse wafts in the air.

"Urghh..." Ohn grimaced, covering her nose with her paws, staying with her sibling outside of the cave.

"Cale-nim," Rosalyn says, eyes staring at the rotten corpse of a man leaning on the stone altar, head down with a gaping hole in his chest, dried blood around him along with guts. "Her Highness' story about a man on this island..."

They had previously believed that the corpse of a man Withira had mentioned must be the man from the folklore of the Whale kingdom. The corpse of that man was holding the hand of another body that was laid on the altar in a tight grip.

'[Name],' Cale thought to himself, tempted to step closer the moment his eyes laid on the scattered [h/c] hair on the stone altar from afar, laid underneath the skeletons piled on top.

Rosalyn let out a soft gasp when she saw your body, eyes going glassy as she covered her mouth. "Is that...?"

"Be careful, Cale," Choi Han warned, recalling the story Withira had told them about being attacked when she got too close to the altar when she needed to confirm whether you were alive or not.

Cale stayed quiet, trying to rack his brain on how to move from their spots.

'Will I be able to control the trees around here?' He thought to himself.

'Perhaps,' the gluttonous priestess answered him. 'But... I feel something within these trees. Something divine.'

'Divine?' Cale repeated. This cements the three saints' suspicions of you being tricked by a god. He tries to identify some of the things he could work with and classify whatever god had once been worshipped within the island, but he comes up with nothing.

"Wait," Cale says, observing the corpse of a man further from where he stood. "Ron, confirm to me whether or not that's Captain John from where you are."

Ron frowned, bending down a bit to look at the slumped corpse from afar, eying the uniform and the crest that was embroidered on the corpse's blazer. Despite how the head of the corpse was down, Ron could easily spot the signature scars on the man's arms. He closed his eyes in resignation once he found his answer. "I can confirm that is Captain John, Young Master-nim."

"So the last two had been here," Cale murmured.

"It appears so," said Ron, standing up straight.

"What to do now?" Choi Han asked Cale. They don't have much room to move with the knowledge they will get attacked if they get too close.

Cale let out a sigh. This island had cobblestones, surrounded by trees, and the ocean wasn't too far away. He had Choi Han, Rosalyn, and a mighty dragon here.

"We will now commence our rescue mission," Cale says, his voice firm. "Miss Rosalyn, Raon, and I will try to take care of the defense while Choi Han tries to grab [Name] from the altar stone along with the captain. We have to try to not fight the island and immediately escape back to the waters where the Whales are waiting for us."

Many things could happen if Choi Han tried to do that. The ruin could immediately collapse on them as they were being held up by the strong barks. If the strong barks let go of them to attack Choi Han--

'This is your playground,' says the gluttonous priestess. 'This island might belong to a God, but you can control nature here to a certain degree to save [Name] and retrieve the captain's dead body.'

Cale raised his hands, watching as the strong barks of the tree twitch to his will. He would not be able to control the main tree as its size was too big for him and most likely is the manifestation of a god that was once worshipped on the island. They would have more control over the tree than him.

Choi Han silently walked to the altar, the sound of his footsteps nonexistent as he took cautious steps and his hand held the handle of his sword, ready to attack anything that came his way. He pushed away the piling skeletons from your body, all of them falling to the ground and shattering due to how brittle they were.

Choi Hand placed a hand on your cheek and let out a relieved, excited smile when he felt warmth. "[Name]..."

"I-Is she alive?" Ohn stammered, watching Choi Han's smile widen upon touching you.

Choi Han looked up, nodding with glassy eyes. "Y-yes. Her breathing is a bit shallow, but she's alive."

"Come here, [Name]," Choi Han says softly, tucking his hand under you and trying to lift you. "Let's go home--"

Choi Han paused when your body couldn't be picked up from the altar. He looked down at your unconscious body, trying to find the reason why he couldn't lift you and he saw a few of what seemed to be long vines that were on the ground and had crawled up to your hand, up your arm, and then into your sleeves, the way they crawled up your hand resembled veins.

"Something's wrong," Choi Han announced to them all.

"What's the matter?" Cale asked, watching Choi Han rip your sleeve off.

Choi Han tilts your body a bit to face the others and show off the way the green thick vines attached themselves to your skin, arranged like veins with leaves. He ripped your shirt further, stopping when he saw how the vines gathered right above your left breast, gathering into a circle and penetrating your skin, dried blood dripping down your skin.

Rosalyn covered her mouth at the sight. "Oh, God, is that... Are they going straight for her heart?"

A cold chill went down Cale's spine at the realization that the reason you might be still alive was because the island was keeping your heart alive. Had you... became one with the island? Are you the reason why the island has become sentient?

Choi Han touched the stems that gathered in your heart, noticing how the vines seemed to be pulsing along with your heart. He figured they were acting like some sort of cardiac device for you. His heart sank when he realized it was far too dangerous to rip off the vines. "We can't take her away."

All of their eyes widened in surprise when the vines and barks seemed to move and form a tall, humanoid figure that loomed over Choi Han. A dianthus flower sat in the center of what seemed to be its face.

"Did you think you'd be able to fool me?"

Choi Han covered your body with his, his sword drawn out to protect, gaze growing dark as he glared at the humanoid figure made of vines and moss. "Who are you?"

A thick bark came out and swung over towards Choi Han but was stopped mid-air. Cale's hand was raised, stopping the bark from moving. He found himself overwhelmed with the amount of strength he had to put out to stop the entity from moving. He coughed out blood almost immediately, the blood coming out like vomit. At the same time, Rosalyn had put out a shield over Choi Han and the altar.

"H-Human!" Raon exclaimed, watching as Cale dropped to his knees but still kept himself to stop the entity from moving. The kittens ran to his side and Ron held Cale back so he wouldn't slump forward to the ground.

'He doesn't... feel malicious,' the Super Rock pointed out, sounding a bit flabbergasted as he was referring to the entity.

"Leave," commanded the entity, pointing to the ocean where Withira and her Whales were waiting for them.

"Not without [Name]," Rosalyn said with a determined look. A chill went up her spine when the humanoid figure turned its head to look at her, the singular dianthus flower in the middle of a blank slate of face somehow making him look more unsettling.

"I'm afraid that's not going to be possible," says the entity. "She is happy here."

The entity leaned down to Choi Han. The branches creak and snap as the blank slate that acts as a face was suddenly split widely like a monster opening its jaw.

"I was--" Your voice emerged in an echo from the entity's opened jaws, your voice sounding broken as it sounded like you were crying. "Please go away."

Rosalyn let out a shudder, tears gathering in her eyes at the sound of your voice again. She had nearly forgotten how your voice sounded. However, Cale was unnerved at how this entity was capable of having your voice. How does this all work? He can see the vines that formed the humanoid shape are connected to the one that's crawling up your heart. This entity most likely was keeping you alive by itself.

The entity's jaws creaked and then closed again back to a blank slate. "Leave."

Cale frowned, looking up at the entity. He's determined to know why exactly you were being kept alive. "What are you?"

The entity straightened itself. "It no longer matters. I've lost all the people willing to worship my name."

"So you're a deity," Rosalyn said, confirming their suspicions for the last few weeks. You wrote in your letter of believing it was a god or some kind that had been communicating with you within your head. Deep down, Rosalyn was relieved this wasn't a case of psychosis.

"Then is this your attempt to get more worshippers?" Cale asked. "By taking an innocent woman?"

"One that belongs to me," says the entity, the vines, and branches that were formed into a tall humanoid figure elongated until its blank slate of a face was close to Cale, the single dianthus flower swishing with its movements. Cale was looking up at the entity in front of him. He could feel an incredible force of it all like he should be getting on his knees and pressing his forehead down to the dirty earth, but he didn't.

Cale looks up at the god, face hardened with a determined frown.

'It is most likely an ancient god,' says the gluttonous priestess, her tone a bit hesitant as she could sense the weakness within how the God controls their branches. 'Can you feel the divinity within their branches and vines? He is channeling the lives of hundreds into that [Name] girl. I never thought that could be... possible.'

Cale glanced around the skeletons that were around the ruin. These were the remains of the dug-up graves they had stumbled upon earlier. These people were their worshippers and they have dug up desecrated their graves and put them here.

"Leave!"

The ruins seemed to shake from the sheer weight of the god's roaring voice. A thick bark sprouted from the side of its body and swung at Cale. The redhead immediately conjured his silver shield and a loud bang was heard when the bark hit it. Cale felt blood coming up to his throat and he coughed it out, his heart pumping wildly as the Vitality of the Heart pushed him to keep standing.

"Cale-nim!" Choi Han exclaimed. He was about to move from your body when a couple of vines had managed to wrap around his feet and keep him in place. He swung his sword at them and with every vine cut, more grew and grew up his limbs.

"Fine," says the god. "She's in need of a new heart, anyways. I can see you all are special."

Cale's eyes widened and he immediately put the pieces together. Why John managed to be here was because he was needed for his heart. The reason why those graves were dug up was because the god was desperate to find something to keep you alive, and it made him think there must be some sort of intangible force of energy that only a primordial god could tangle and control that could bring back the dead.

John's rotten corpse with a large, gaping hole in the middle tells Cale that this god will not be hesitant to kill them all.

"Ron, take the children and go!" Cale exclaimed.

"Oh, now, you want to leave?" asked the god with a sinister laugh, going back to the walls of the ruin as vines and then spreading out. The trees and vines began to squirm, coming alive as their god returned.

This was their playground.

"Let's go," Ron says, bending down to pick up the kittens and immediately sprinting out toward where they had come from.

"Raon, go!" Cale exclaimed. "Make sure Ron and the others reach Her Highness Withira!"

"Y-Yes!" Raon replied hesitantly, flying towards where Ron had run off. "I-I will come back!"

"No, stay with them!" Cale yelled to him.

Rosalyn ran up to Choi Han and your body by the altar, trying to rip off the vines that were beginning to cover your body. This was the god's attempt to keep you away from them again, and she will not have it. She whispered your name over and over again, hands slightly shaking as she touched your warm skin every time she ripped a vine, how thorns began to grow on the vines and they buried themselves deep into the magician's hands everytime they claw to save you.

"Miss Rosalyn--!" Cale watched as Rosalyn's legs were caught by the vines before she was pulled down to fall on the dirty ground, thorns embedding themselves to her flesh.

"No!" Choi Han yelled in terror, trying to rip away the vines that were slowly beginning to cover his torso, wanting to save Rosalyn as she tried to free herself from the vines that were pulling her to the walls.

"Focus on her!" Rosalyn exclaimed as she was dragged, her face pale and cringing in pain. She seemed to catch on that the vines simply didn't want her around you and the best thing to do to not lose her leg was to stop squirming so much. "I will be fine!"

Cale barely felt the vines wrapping around his arms and before he could process it, he was immediately slammed to the walls of the ruin. His back hit the old stones and he groaned, the back of his head being hit causing him to immediately dizzy. He was suspended up on the walls, giving him a high view of you on the altar and Choi Han who was still on the ground, slowly being wrapped in vines and thorns.

Rosalyn was across him on the walls as well, suspended there while the vines grew up to their torso. Cale could feel the vines move across his body, slinking to his sleeves and then they probe around the scar on his chest. Without any warning, the vines tore at his flesh and he could hear Rosalyn's scream, her own heart being wrapped in vines as well as his.

"A-arghh-!" Choi Han groaned in pain as he could feel the vines enter his body.

'The kid's going to die!' Cale could hear the cheapskate shrill in his head. 'Cale, use me. Use your powers and get rid of this island.'

'He can't,' responded the Super Rock. 'The island is keeping that [Name] alive. If he destroys the island, he kills her as well.'

'It's either he kills her, or he kills not only himself, but everyone here,' argued the thief.

Amid all the chaos, the Fire of Destruction whispered to Cale in a pleading voice.

' Kid, you have to let her go.'

Cale recalls your smile and your voice. For a moment, he nearly thought his Records have failed him when he nearly couldn't muster the thought of your eyes, but when he managed to finally grasp onto the memory of you, he held on to it.

Cale felt his eyes begin to grow weak, vines wrapped around his heart and he could feel his shirt being soaked in his own blood. The vines carefully avoid poking too much into his organs and some of them soak up the blood. The vines seemed to glow the moment they were touched by his blood, and every single vine that was tearing at him was connected to yours. He could only assume Rosalyn and Choi Han were given the same treatment. They most likely will die out of blood loss if this keeps on going.

'Cale!' the Ancient Powers inside him call for him, like a parent calling desperately for their child.

Cale closed his eyes, and he mustered the power to call for thunderbolts. He could feel it brewing in the skies right above them, and he could also feel himself slipping away. By the time the first thunderbolt struck, Cale was no longer conscious.

"Oh, that's awful. I feel sorry for them."

Cale blinked owlishly as he stared at you. You were sitting down in front of him, dressed in modern clothes and your laptop open. Across from your seat was a faceless man, long legs stretched as the faceless man sat sideways on the chair.

Cale looked around, noticing that the space he was in was a cafe, similar to what he used to have in his previous world. He looked down at his chest, seeing that it wasn't wounded. He then goes back to stare at you as you converse with the faceless man, a look of faux disgust on your face. He leaned forward to look at what was on his laptop, seeing it to be an academic manuscript. Is this... your memory from your previous life before being transported?

"Uh, yeah..." The faceless man says with a small, nervous laugh. The faceless man seemed to turn to you. "I don't understand why she's so adamant about keeping her distance from you."

"She'd rather have her fifteen and six-year-old daughters to see her suffer than have me take care of her," you said nonchalantly, typing away at your laptop to cite a passage.

"[Name], please," says the faceless man, turning to face you properly. "I-I know I'm being shameless by asking you to take care of her, but I can't--"

"You'd rather have me take care of your wife than your kids?" You cut him off, glancing up at the man.

By the bits of information, Cale could assume that the faceless man was your stepfather. He had known your mother had remarried after divorcing your father and you had two stepsisters. Your mother had died due to stage four breast cancer and lived only within two months before dying. You had been the one to take care of her despite her verbal abuse every time you visited her.

"[Name], please."

'Ah, so this is why,' Cale thought, watching you rubbing your face in exasperation before you let out a sigh of resignation. He had always wondered why you took care of your mother when the woman had been nothing but horrible to you. It was the request of her husband.

"Okay."

Cale wondered why he was seeing all this. He recalled how the vines had glowed when it touched his blood and every single vine that was glowing had been connected to yours. He could only hypothesize that he had been connected to you in some way and it would allow him to get a peek of your past; of the things you've been hiding.

Cale sees your stepfather reaching for your hand, murmuring a thank-you.

Your face seemed tired.

He doesn't like having access to your past. You're secretive for a reason and this felt like a violation of your trust in him.

The sight of you and your stepfather faded and it morphed into a living room, another faceless man sleeping on the couch. Cale could tell this was a different man. It might be because you only remember their outlines but not their faces anymore. You're in the background, cutting vegetables by the kitchen island with a tired look on your face. Cale approached you, eyes trained on how you expertly cut off the stems of a particular vegetable in your hand. He couldn't exactly see what it was, as it was morphing back and forth between spinach, cabbage, and cucumbers. Maybe you don't remember, and that's why your memories are filling the lost memories by themselves.

"How was she?" asked the faceless man lying on the couch.

"Sick," you replied curtly. The man says something inaudible and you sigh. "She's not getting any better, Dad. It would be better if she just died."

"You should just die."

"I'm trying," you clipped back, cutting the vegetables more aggressively.

There was a few moments of silence where neither you nor your father didn't talk. Cale sat on a stool by the kitchen island, watching how you frowned deeply while you prepared your dinner for your father together. He tried to touch your hand, and like a ghost, his touch went through your body. It unnerved him how you were in front of him, though younger in age, but he couldn't touch you.

His heart ached. This was you, but this also wasn't the you he knew. His memory of you in Record overlaps with the image he sees in front of him, but some things are different. Not only was your hair shorter here, but your eyes lacked the glimmer he usually sees within you. Your body looked thinner here, unhealthy. His eyes roamed over your figure, ingraining the sight to Records and just seeing how badly it had been for you.

"I'm sorry, [Name]," your father says quietly. "I was just... worried about your mother."

'But not me?' Your expression seems to say, but you stay silent and continue prepping the dinner.

"It's okay."

You cooked dinner and ate none of it.

The dark clouds gathered above the island and Raon could easily tell that it was his human's powers. He had seen it too many times and had seen the risk that affected Cale's body whenever he used at least one of his powers. And when that rose-gold thunder struck down, the sound had vibrated the air. The flash of the majestic thunder reached them first before it broke the sound barrier and the thunder rumbled, the air around the island vibrating the moment the lightning struck down on the gigantic tree in the middle of the island.

"No!" Ron had yelled at Raon the moment the dragon had seemed to show his desire to immediately head to the burning island.

"But, human-!" Raon began to protest, turning to face the older man and he stopped when he saw the look on Ron's face.

Ron had always had the expression of faux benign and if not, he would have a slightly irritated expression. But this time, in his eyes that were reflecting the flames of the burning floating island, Ron sees some kind of firm belief and also desperation. How can the man show such a juxtaposition of an expression was beyond Raon who still had so much to learn about expressiveness and humanity, but he could see it.

Ron's belief that he could have his young master back many times like he always has kept him on his feet and stayed in his place, but this was going to be the first time he would have his daughter back, if that was even possible, that kept him antsy and hope as if he was a pious man that has completely willed their destiny towards something that couldn't sympathize with him. He desired to believe in salvation, not his, but yours.

You were so unforgivably human. A normal aspect within this superhuman group and the fact that they would be able to get you back tasted too sweet for his mouth that he felt like his teeth would rot and fall out. You weren't Cale. Choi Han. Rosalyn. For goodness sake, you weren't even Beacrox. You were you, with no superhuman abilities that were gifted or taught to you nor do you have a god that loves you so deeply that they wanted to keep you alive.

"Don't," Ron says, the embers of the burnt leaves and shrubs from the island blowing past them as if they're snow, the flames from the island illuminating their faces. "Have faith in them."

Faith, what a ridiculous word it was to come out of the mouth of a murderer. Have faith.

For one reason Ron could not believe in God was due to the fact that such a mighty being could never sympathize with humans. They were omniscient, so they could never feel how humans feel. They do not hate and love like humans do. Humans die and that is why they feel things so intensely. Gods were mighty and they exist for so many eras and they don't age. They see things as insignificant when it doesn't concern their reign. How can something mighty and timeless understand the pain and beauty of living?

The fire licked away at the leaves of the trees and the crackling sounds of the burning trees sounded so serene.

"Will they be okay in there?" Beacrox asked his father, looking at the burning island.

"It's only the top of the tree that is burning," answered Withira instead, looking up at the titan tree and how most of it was singed black at the top and the embers of the fire were eating away at the thick barks that swirled together like tendrils. "They're situated at the hollow space that is surrounded by the root. I doubt Cale-nim would strike down his thunder while they're there."

"Even so," Ron murmured, narrowing his eyes at the island. "Your Highness, may I ask of you to lead your men to keep an eye if any of them jump out of the island?"

Withira nodded slowly. "Of course. I'll have my men surround the island from a safe distance and keep an eye out."

Choi Han has heard you say multiple times in a joking manner that time was simply a concept whenever you were late for something, how time wasn't real, and how it really shouldn't matter that much.

He's starting to believe it.

He stood here, within the shadows of your memories, watching how days pass by in your memories yet it felt like minutes to him. How magnificent it was that a God could do this.

He learned many things about you. You were someone from the modern world, much like him and Cale. You suffered depression. You loved music and listened to it no end. You had an emotionally abusive father. You loved going thrift shopping. You weren't close to your sisters. You loved the cheap tuna mayo sandwich your classmate would bring you. You hated your mother.

You were practically living in the hospital to aid your mother. The cancer on her breast had spread fast and she had become paralyzed as it spread to her marrowbone. Her husband was busy at work so he rarely came by, but whenever he did, he would bring his daughters along to "visit their mother and older sister". You knew the nanny must have ditched last minute. Your sisters would leave, faces scrunched in disgust whenever the hospital room smelled like feces, and stood by the corner of the room quietly as you picked up your mother to change her diaper and clean her up every time.

Your father would be at home, refusing to visit your mother to respect her wishes to never meet again but incessantly asking for her well-being to you whenever you got home late at night. You wonder how much love your father has from such a violent woman that even though he was abandoned just like you, his love endured. You thought of him as stupid, but other times you wish you could have that preservance in loving someone. In believing in the idea of someone so much that it blinds you.

"What's that?" asked your six-year-old sister, standing by your chair as you were writing down your notes, your chair not too far from your mother's hospital bed, the older woman knocked out with morphine.

You turned to the little girl, smiling half-heartedly as you didn't want to be bothered. "It's just my notes."

"For what?" pestered the young child.

"Studying," you answered, setting down your pen and closing your book, giving all your attention to the little girl.

"I study, too," the little girl says, and Choi Han sees that you are hesitant to continue the conversation.

"Yeah?" You eventually prompted with a small grin, still uncomfortable. "What do you like studying about?"

The little girl waved her nemo doll fish in her hand. "Fishies."

You smiled, tired already from the conversation. You had a long day from watching over your mother. The woman had gotten high off of morphine and had hit you multiple times when you were trying to change her out of her diaper. The nurses doubled her dose.

"That's good. I like fishes, too."

You left to go to the bathroom and when you returned, Choi Han saw that your sister had drawn fishes on the margins of your notes. You touch them whenever you're concentrating.

There were moments like that that showed the girls appreciated you for watching over their mother. The two weren't blind to the abuse you suffered while you cared for their mother - your mother. You were doing your bachelor's while caring for your mother, studying all night in the dim hospital room, having no life outside of being a caretaker.

"Don't you get tired of it all?" asked the fifteen-year-old sister this time while you were leaning back in your chair, a neck pillow on your shoulders.

"I do," you replied to her, eyes trained on your sleeping mother.

"Then why are you still here?"

You turned to your sister, seeing the way she was so similar to her mother - your mother. Her lovely brown hair and gray eyes. You think of your mother. You think of how much potential she had had she not married your father, had she not given birth to you. What type of girl was she? Would she take the right side or the left side in front of a camera? What did she want to be when she grew up?

Choi Han watched you grasp the hand of your younger sister. "Because it'll come back. The love I have given here today will come back to me."

Your sister frowned. "I think it's time you start to care about yourself a little more."

An older sister who sees the need to be tender despite it all, and the younger sister who thought of her as stupid for loving a dead woman, Maybe you have become your father. Maybe that's why your mother didn't like you both; you were both idiots who kept on drinking poison just because you were thirsty.

As your mother's health deteriorated, Choi Han saw how much it affected your sisters. They cried at random times and were beginning to help around with taking care of her. Your six-year-old sister sings random notes in off-key to entertain her sick mother while your fifteen-year-old sister is learning how to help you lift the woman off the bed if you ever need to clean her up.

The day she finally passed away, you slept soundly in your chair not far away from her bed. It was the most pristine memory of yours that Choi Han had ever seen when you woke up, hearing the soft murmurs of the nurses as they gently shook you awake, how the heartbeat monitor was no longer beeping. Sunlight passes through the blinds and for the first time, the room feels light.

Would it be too cruel for Choi Han to describe it as if a great evil had finally disappeared?

You didn't participate in the funeral arrangements and simply attended with your father. He cried and you held his hand, thumb brushing over his palm to soothe his pain the best you could. Choi Han doesn't understand the level of love someone could have for the people who have made them suffer.

You stood outside of the funeral home, cigarette lit between your lips. Your fifteen-year-old sister stands beside you.

"Do you regret taking care of her every day? Just for her to end up dead?"

"I don't regret being kind."

"I bet you're thinking that it's good riddance."

Choi Han could see emotions bubbling in the teen's chest, how they were looking for an outlet to spill their feelings onto. To yell out their love into the void, because that was what grief was. To have your love nowhere else to go.

You saw it as well and threw down your cigarette, stepping on it to put out the embers. Your silence didn't help much as your sister began to choke on her tears before she eventually sobbed. You offer her a hand and she takes it, and you immediately wrap your scarred arms around your sister as if she were your lifeline.

"My mom," she sobs in your arms. "I don't have a mom anymore."

You stayed quiet, kissing her cheek and temple to ease her pain as best as you could. The action seemed to only drive your young sister to more crying; "I'm so sorry for all she's done to you... It's all my fault."

"Don't apologize," you whispered. "Children shouldn't carry the sins of their parents. You've done nothing to me."

"I exist," she replied, hiccuping.

"And how wonderful is that?" You cupped her cheek, smiling. "That you exist."

Choi Han watched you sit with your sisters until the youngest one fell asleep with her head on your lap, while your fifteen-year-old sister still talked with you animatedly even though it was nearly midnight. The funeral was still going and he became alarmed the moment everyone in the room began to fade into grey silhouettes, leaving you the only figure with a face.

From far away, Choi Han saw your father standing by the exit door of the funeral home, popping out like a sore thumb between all the grey, dull silhouettes. What kind of memory was this? Were you hyper-aware of your father even though he was standing so far away?

"[Name], I need to talk to you."

Choi Han's eyes widened as he saw a distorted figure standing in front of you and your sister. They were a black silhouette of a man, their silhouette distorting with growing sharp edges standing out every second. Their voice was distorted and Choi Han struggled to find the connection as to why this particular memory of yours had everyone fading out like a shadow while your father and you stayed the same, this silhouette was so distorted that Choi Han's guards were up despite how he couldn't interact with the memories here.

"But, Dad--" says your younger sister and it clicked to Choi Han that this distorted figure was your stepfather.

"I need her for something important. Only she could do it."

Even his voice sounded so displeasing like nails dragged against a board. You stood up to follow your stepfather into another room, and Choi Han saw your father beginning to exit the funeral home when he saw you walk away with your stepfather. Choi Han followed your father, bewildered that the memory was still showing up so clearly when it was clear you weren't supposed to know where your father went.

Choi Han followed after your father and he realized midway that this wasn't your memories but your father's. How can that be? Choi Han had assumed that he could see your memories because the vines that were penetrating your heart were connected to the one penetrating his - he could easily dismiss it as something magical of the sort as its explanation. But your father? Why was his memories here?

He followed after your father's journey by car, sitting in the backseat as the man drove alone in silence, leaving you behind at the funeral home. He drove and drove and drove, for hours on end until he eventually ran out of gas.

Choi Han stepped out of the car to follow your father as he ditched the car and began walking. There was a sense of eeriness at how quiet the man was, walking with dried tears on his face. Your father walked in a straight line for hours before he came across a forest.

Your father stopped by a lake, and so Choi Han did as well. From across the lake, Choi Han saw someone he was relieved and surprised to see.

"Cale-nim?" Choi Han called out.

Cale saw him and his eyes widened. "Choi Han? You're here, too?"

The two didn't have too much time to converse when your father walked into the lake without any hesitation. Both of them watched with wide eyes as the man attempted his life by drowning before the water let out a bright, purplish light and your father was gone in the blink of an eye.

"[Name]!"

Both Cale and Choi Han heard Rosalyn's shrill cry and the scenery changed immediately back to the halls of the funeral home, the space warping and distorting. They could see Rosalyn walking past the dull grey silhouettes and the two approached the rattled magician.

"Miss Rosalyn!" Cale called out.

"[Name], she's in there!" Rosalyn began to say, hurried and in panic as she ran to a door. "We need to get her out!"

Suddenly, the incoherent murmurs of the crowd within the area went silent and the three of them could hear your voice and your stepfather's crystal clear in the middle of all the warping of space and distortion.

"I'm... grateful you were there throughout everything."

"It's okay. I knew you loved my mother deeply."

"..."

"What are you doing...?"

"Has anyone told you that you're a very beautiful woman?"

"..."

"You look so much like her."

"Please, don't..."

"It's a compliment. Did I make you uncomfortable?"

"I-I think it's time I get back to my father."

"No, no. There's no need to rush. Your father already left earlier because I told him you'll be staying the night with your sisters."

"I never agreed to that. Please, let me go home."

"No, not until we do this."

"N- No, please--!"

A deafening sound filled their ears and bright light filled the room, blinding the three of them. Rosalyn's face was red with anger and sadness, eyes glossy with tears as she had come to a realization of what had happened behind that closed door.

When their vision came to, they were all staring up at a bright blue sky, laying on the mossy cobblestones, the holes on their chests all wrinkled up close. They all sat up immediately, seeing how the island was a complete disaster due to Cale's lightning bolt. The trees were on fire, embers falling like snow. The majestic tree that had been the manifestation of the ancient God's powers were struck, the trunk split down right in the middle, showing a dark hole filled with vines and sticks, pulsing and glowing with golden energy.

The ancient god, a giant lump of vines, sticks, and divinity was moving across the land like an octopus, your body on top of it as they carry you to the split trunk.

Cale recalled back the vision of your father drowning himself before being completely swallowed by the light. "I think I know who that beast is."

#trash of the count's family #cale henituse #cale henituse x reader #lout of count's family #lcf cale #fanfic

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