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mattsonly · 5 months

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Too innocent

Summary: in which, Matt finds pictures of who he thought was his innocent best friend, in unexpected positions...

Warnings: male masturbation, oral m!recieving, porn with very little plot, piv, unprotected sex, innocence & corruption kink, no use of y/n.

a/n: this is my very first fic (on tumblr anyways) so i am hoping it meets standards!! also, this came to me in a dream and i am a SUCKER for innocent!reader so i just had to ;)

You had always been the sweet, soft and gentle spoken type, never so much as uttering a curse word, even to your closest friends. This exterior had, however; earned you a nickname with your bestfriend. Angel. Which, inevitably, had your cheeks warm and tinted in a furious pink everytime.

Matt only called you it to tease, thriving in pride whenever he saw your rosy dusted face each time he uttered the pet name. It was fitting, he thought. You were the embodiment of purity.

Said fact (which he was now debating) occupated his mind as his jaw went slack, knuckles white and gripping desperately on the polaroid pictures he had found in your bedside drawer, as if you were going to storm in and snatch them away.

Even if you had, they had already worked effectively as his pants suddenly felt awfully tight, on the border of painful.

Matt would've been slightly less shocked if there were perhaps only one snapshot of your naked (or almost so) body, he could've excused it as curiosity. But, with atleast 15 different printed pictures in hand with evidently different time stamps, this wasn't just curiosity.

This was deceit, he felt lied to. He wasn't mad about his curious discovery, though. But how he desperately wished this oppurtunity had presented itself sooner. The lack of time had suddenly dawned on Matt, realising if he desired the relief that was pent up in his sweats, he had to act fast.

Tugging them down eagerly, lifting his pink shirt and stuffing the hem into his mouth, biting down in it in attempt to conceal any inevitable moans that were surely to spill out. He was impressed at how he didn't do so already when he first saw the polaroids, his dedication to not get caught evidently overpowering.

Matt loosened his grip on the photos, in order to switch between which one was on top of the pile. His mind was racing with borderline filthy thoughts of all the positions you were in, and how he would destroy you in every one. Palming his now throbbing cock through the thin material of his boxers, his head threw back with the pictures above his face, to remain in constant eyeline.

One, was a picture of you in only a thin thong, knelt on your bed pointing the camera to the mirror behind, a clearshot view of your ass propped up on your heels had Matt salivating onto the thin material of his shirt he had formely stuffed in his mouth. Another was of you bent over your bathroom counter, adorning nothing on your body, showing your bare arched back and the slope of your ass, with your tits in slight view in the bottom right corner, as well as your collarbones. And the final one of the bunch that had definitely caught Matt's attention, was the only one of all that showed your face.

Your smile in the polaroid was the same one Matt had seen multiple times, only having mistaken it for one of entire innocence. Though nothing about the smile was different, Matt felt this one was taken in an entire different light. Your hair was damp and loose over your shoulders, water trickling down your body from the shower head above you, suds of soap scattering your bare chest which was in plain view. This one was by far his favourite, the look in your eyes, the image of your plush tits practically begging for attention infront of his eyes, your sweet yet somehow seductive smile.

All had him weak, pathetically palming himself through his boxers, continuous groans falling from his flushed lips and vibrating off the material of his shirt on his tongue.

He imagined vividly all the things he could and wished to do to you, have you sat on his lap like in the first picture, riding his fingers to the point of overstimulated tears, your innocent eyes glassy and lips pouted in a whine. Even so, he'd have you begging for more, rutting eagerly against his hand and chasing your... 5th? 6th? orgasm. You both lost count, far too caught up in the sensual moment.

He'd bend you over the bathroom counter, just like the second picture, his palm flat on the bottom of your back and pushing your torso against the cool marble surface. With your nipples now perked up and on full display for him, how could you expect him to resist grabbing one of your tits as he pounds into you infront of the mirror, his unoccupied hand tangling in your hair and pulling your head back to see your fucked out face. He imagined that, your swollen lip between your teeth, mascara running down the apples of your flushed cheeks which only fuelled the eager slamming of his cock inside you.

The last one... his personal favourite, Matt practically whimpered upon sight of it, wanting desperately to go beneath the restraints of his boxers and pump his dick furiously, with the firing desire the photos built up inside him, but he refrained, settling for simply working above the thin material. That way, he assumed it would maintain some form of respect for his oh so innocent best friend. Undeniably, this was wrong. He had snooped and stumbled upon these on his own accord, you hadn't left them out.

Which is why he knew how perverted and filthy the situation was, but that didnt stop the movement of his palm over his sensitivity, nor the moan of your name, muffled by his shirt. Nor the dip of the mattress near his feet.

You smiled up at him as he stared at you, dumbfounded. With his hand covering his almost bare cock, shirt in his mouth, and your private polaroids in clutch. Not many excuses could be made. Instead, he released his shirt from between his teeth, furrowing an eyebrow while maintaining eye contact. "Well?" the one worded sentence, despite so little content, spoke a million words. He was asking whether you were willing to break the boundary. Whether you were as filthy as the pictures made you seem.

Whether you were going to help him in his.. predicament.

All at once.

The soft touch of your hand could be felt atop his, the very same that was palming himself only 10 seconds ago, gently sliding his own hand off and replacing it with your own.

Matt felt that, maybe.. just maybe, your innocent demeanor hadn't been false. If he hadn't had proof against that, the feather-light touches of your hand brushing over his sensitive tip and the way you had ever-so-softly asked "is this okay?" would've swayed his mind that you truly were the embodiment of an angel.

His head nods quickly and almost instantly his aching dick was finally released, your hands tugging the waistband down to his thighs, looking up at Matt as you land soft kisses to the ruddy tip still feigning innocence. Innocence that he oh so wants to destroy. Matt wants to see the sweet girl wither away beneath him under the influence of his dick, he wants to be the cause of your corruption.

The sensation of your lips engulfing the head of his cock was barely enough to snap him out of his perverse thoughts, though it succeeded. Eliciting a pent up groan from the back of his throat, one that was long longg overdue. Along side Matt's mind being blurred from pure lust and ecstasy as you took him expertly in your throat, managing to fit almost all of it in bar an inch or two, he also had a fuzzy feeling from the relief of finally having you like this, finally feeling the sensual touch that he had longed for from a distance ever since you traded baggy shirts for tube tops.

Despite the impending release building in his abdomen, Matt tugged perhaps a little too eagerly on your hair, completely disconnecting your mouth from where he needed you most. The sight was one that had a borderline pornographic moan fall from his lips. Yours, were red and coated in a thin sheen of saliva that fell slightly onto your chin, your cheeks warm and tinged red and eyes watery from supressing the continuous gags threatening to escape your throat each time his tip grazed the back of it. Yet you were smiling, that damned smile that had him fooled, leading him to believe his dirty scenarios concocted in his mind truly were barbaric, because you were far too innocent for that.

Matt used your makeshift ponytail as a guide, pulling you up by your hair, releasing his strong grip after you were situated up on your knees, instead pulling your forward by a stern hand on your hip. "Need you so bad angel, gotta feel you around me" his words came out in a slurred yet attractive murmur, voice raspy from the sounds elicited from his throat.

He shouldn't have been shocked that his sentence had you pulling your shirt over your head, contrasting who he thought you were for years. He shouldn't have been shocked, but he was. Shocked that despite revealing your bare chest to him, and situating yourself atop his hips, your face still looked so angelic and pure, and it undeniably turned Matt on to no end.

As if upon animalistic instinct, he grabbed your hips on either side, flipping you over and consequently groaning at the soft whimper that left your plush lips as your head met the pillow. Matt was addicted to you. The sight, sound, and he was beyond curious upon the taste. You knew the power you held over Matt, you knew that you were practically lurring him in like a sailor to a siren, and you knew you needed him... biblically. Leaning up, connecting the two pairs of eager lips, clashing and dancing together as if choreographed. Messy, yet sweet. Soft, yet passionate.

"Matt..please, please touch me" your begs and whines sounded pathetic, but fueled the burning desire bubbling in the boy's abdomen, which was apparent from the groan that vibrated against your collarbone from where his mouth was connected, sucking a purple mark on the fleshy bone.

Matt's hand had a mind of its own, as if not concious yet all too concious of the fact it was now trailing down your torso, teasing the soft skin of your inner thighs beneath your skirt, barely grazing your clit as a teasingly slow finger moves around your clothed cunt. Despite the touch being nowhere near enough to what you wanted, it managed to have your hips bucking up, rutting into the brunette's palm eagerly. "Matt.. don't tease.." You begged again, earning a sharp slap to your slick centre which had a mix between a moan and whimper escape your lips.

"Don't tease? Baby.. you were the one taking those filthy pictures, did you want me to see them? acted like a slut for your best friend to find.. so naughty" He tutted, with a stern shake of his head which had tears welling in your waterline and lips pouting. "Aw baby, don't cry.. i'll give it to ya. 'Y so desperate, needy little slut" what was meant to ease your mood, only had the salty drops falling down your cheeks, sniffling and feigning innocence. Matt saw straight through your act, unfooled by your antics, instead incredibly turned on by the trails of tears down your face.

Being equally as desperate and unwilling to tease himself in the process of teasing you, a small smile formed on your lips at the feeling of his smooth tip against your entrance, not yet intruding instead resting in place and looking in your eyes for an all clear sign. Despite wanting to absolutely destroy you, stripping you of any innocene that wasn't an act, he'd much rather do that knowing you wanted it too.

Expectedly, you did. Almost making Matt sigh in relief as he slowly pushed himself inside your warm opening, your walls immediately hugging his dick tightly and eliciting a gasp from not only him, but you from the comfortable and delicious stretch. With leverage on his arms, because of your strong grip on his bicep, his movements began and instantly created a rhythm that had you both groaning in bliss. Cresent moon shaped indents littered Matt's bicep, allerting him of your pleasure as his pace picked up, rutting into you almost ruthlessly.

The unrelenting, harsh yet oh so blissful pace of his hips rocking into yours entirely contradicted the intimacy of the moment and the pure adoration in the boy's eyes. With your most intimate parts connected, practically the same person in the moment, nothing but love was clear in his cerulean irises and the harsh slam of his dick inside you managed to feel like gentle kisses.

Both of you were aware that despite one another's desperation to finally cum, love hung heavy in the room, swarming the air around them and engulfing them entirely, amplifying the already overwhelming pleasure.

Your back arched, your chest very nearly flush against Matt's as your eyes screw shut, your soft walls pulsating around the brunette's length. "Matt! Matt! 'm so close.. so so close!" attempted words left your lips, yet only hitting Matt's ears as incoherent babbles, making him chuckle darkly and take a hand to where your bodies' are connected, swiftly rubbing the pad of his thumb against your clit with fevor, his other hand gripling the headboard as echoes of his own pleasure bounced off the walls, almost definitely alerting anyone of the activity in the room.

With the added sensation, the tightness in your stomach unwound, hitting you like a tonne of bricks as your legs shake, and strings of inaudible praises and gratitude vibrate against the walls. The pulsating of your soft walls engulfing him was enough to push Matt over edge, his hips stuttering and dick twitching, a broken whine echoing from his lips as he bites down harshly on your neck. A mantra of "fuck, fuck.. oh god" being the only words capable of being uttered due to the overwhelming ecstasy.

A warm smile occupied your cheeks. smiling up at Matt as he rode out his high, mouth agape and hair messy. voice broken and eyes boring directly into you.

With a shaky exhale, he smiled too, finally having you exactly as he wanted to.

a/n 2: soo i was gonna write aftercare for this too but i felt i already dragged it so nopeeee!!

@mattsenthusiast

#matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader

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primofate · 1 year

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You are the embodiment of fairness...

is what Neuvillette believes. There is not a single hair on your body that is selfish. Not a single thought in your mind that strays into evil thoughts.

The Chief Justice is just as fair, just as sensible. Though on you, he stays his gaze for a moment longer. Allows the slightest tug upward of his lips as you discuss the latest trial with him. The difference between the two of you? He doesn't think that he is as "well-behaved" as you are. There have definitely been times where he had thought to abandon his gentlemanly and prestigious image, just to lean in and brush his fingers on your cheek. Thankfully, so far, he hasn't done so, even though the two of you had decided to enter a romantic relationship.

The Chief Justice was very guarded, but so were you. The two of you were never seen together, only in the privacy of his home or yours did the two of you enjoy each other's company. Perhaps only his most trusted Melusines knew. Professionalism was important.

"I hope the next trial resolves to your liking, Neuvillette," you smile knowing what his answer would be.

"It isn't my thoughts that are important, Y/N-" he starts and he finishes his sentence at the same time as you chide in with him.

"It's the evidence. I know, I know,"

You bid him goodbye rather curtly, not even a kiss, just a brief pat on the arm. It's working hours, and it's not the time to do such a thing.

Working hours.

As the Chief Justice sat in court, trial in session, he locks eyes with you, the accused. He recognizes the confusion in your eyes as genuine, the hidden panic behind clear as day.

"Neuvil--Your honour," You catch yourself, voice trembling a little. "This is a mistake, it wasn't me,"

and yet all the evidence points to you. Photographs, witness accounts, the hat that you'd left behind in the crime scene. No matter which way you look, the answer was you.

"Guilty," was all he could muster, when he usually said more. His hand looked for the oratrice, hoping that the machine would give him something different, but he already knew it in his heart.

"According to the judgement of the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale, the accused, L/N Y/N is..."

One second.

Two.

Three seconds.

Four.

The crowd started to bristle a little.

At five he opened his mouth, and closed it again, gritting his teeth in secret.

At six, he repeated his own words. "Guilty,"

Cheers erupted from the audience, he could not bring himself to look at your face, though he heard you loud and clear.

"No! NO! This is a mistake! I didn't kill anyone!" Your hysterics were comparable to a mother who had lost her child. To a hardworking man watching his hard earned house burn down.

"NEUVILLETTE PLEASE!"

The Gardes struggled, just as they always did, but you pushed forward, unable to understand nor accept what happened. At that moment you had not noticed the tears of desperation running down your cheeks.

You were going to that underwater prison forever. Dark and alone. What if the sea swallowed you? Or worse, what if the silence swallowed you? All by yourself hundreds of feet below, drowning was such an easy possibility.

Neuvillette almost grimaces, but keeps his face hard as stone. There are a thousand things running in his mind...but the Oratrice was absolute, and so was its verdict.

"Bring the accused to The Fortress of Meropide,"

The wails you let out haunted him, more than any other trial had.

Author's Note: Hello! This is just a quick update, literally wrote it in 30 minutes so excuse any pronoun slips or mistakes! I just wanted to let everyone know I am great and still playing Genshin! Just a quick reminder that The Ruthless Prince is still available on Amazon in paperback and all my previous works are still accessible in my Masterlist!

Do let me know what you think of this one though, and if you think I should turn it into a full fic!

#genshin x reader #genshin angst #genshin impact #neuvilette genshin #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette brainrot

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neo-nomatrix · 1 year

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(My) Nuisance

Hobie brown x reader

word count: 964

find the rest of the mini series here

synopsis: You thought you hated Hobie, but for some reason you’re starting to like him just as much as you like Spiderman.

a/n: (maybe too much) british slang used

You hate your next door neighbor. No, no you loathe your next door neighbor. You think he is the worst person to possibly exist. His stupid flat decorations, his loud punk-rock music blasting at unruly hours, the way he would come back to his flat at 4 am stomping his boots yelling with his friends about their latest anarchist protest. But you hate nothing more than the way he looks at you.

Everytime you try yelling at him he opens his door with the cheekiest grin on his face. While you’re standing there fuming he’s leaning against the door panel looking you up and down. The worst part is how much he tries to smooth talk you.

“I already told you how annoying your music is, no one wants to hear that at 3 am alright? Some of us have work in the morning,” you complain, smoke practically coming out of your ears.

“Oh c’mon love it’s not that bad. Don’t have to be such a tosser ‘bout it. It messes up that pretty face of yours,” he says.

“Are you daft? You’re the one keeping everyone up at night with your dumb guitar,” you roll your eyes.

“It’s not that big a deal sweetheart. Y’know i'm starting to think you’re making up rubbish just so you can talk to me more. I’ll admit it’s pretty cute but you could just ask me out,” he leans closer to your flushed face.

“I don’t fancy you if that’s what you mean,” you scoff.

“Not saying that. I’m saying if you wanna snog me so bad you could just say so,” he shrugs.

You could burst out laughing. Kiss him? That’s fucking hilarious.

“You’re joking right? i’d rather die.”

“I don’t believe in comedy, love,” he says.

“Of course you don’t,” you mumble as you storm off back to your door.

You’ve decided he is the worst person ever. He doesn’t deserve your efforts and time.

You set your keys down and fall into bed as you hear amp feedback and the sounds of Hobie strumming his guitar. You can’t help but roll your eyes. How could someone be so incompetent?

You reach your hand over to where the bed and the wall meet to grab your Spiderman plush. You hate to admit it because it’s kind of dumb but you’ve always loved spiderman. Ever since you were a little kid you collected posters, figures, pins, and merchandise having to do with the superhero. Even now, your walls are decorated in spiderman posters, you own spiderman clothing, and even printed your keys to have a blue and red spider web on them.

There was something so nostalgic to the vigilante and his style that you had to adorn your room with touches of blue and red. You thought spiderman was the embodiment of “cool.” From his suit to the way he acted around criminals to the electric guitar on his back. Sure, a guitar was the main thing you hated about Hobie but Spiderman did it better. He made it work in the way Hobie dreams of.

You wake up to the loudest knock on your front door you’ve ever heard. You immediately know it’s him. You try to ignore the blaring pounding coming from your door but it keeps going. You force yourself to get up and answer the door. You hope you can open it, yell at him, then go back to bed.

To your dismay the second you open the door Hobie places his hand on the top of the wood, stopping you from moving it anywhere else.

“What do you want this early?” you groan.

“It’s like 9 am, love. But anyway-” He cuts himself off before finishing his sentence. You’re too groggy to notice that he’s staring inside of your flat. His eyes search the walls and decor in front of him.

“So, I take it you like Spiderman?” He laughs.

“That’s none of your business,” you sigh, crossing your arms.

He pushes his way inside of your flat, moving around like he’s looking for buried treasure. He picks up memorabilia and smiles at them. He holds up a Spider-Punk figurine and turns towards you.

“Spider-Punk huh?”

“Don’t touch my stuff! You know this is technically breaking and entering,” you scold him, taking the figure out of his hand.

He puts his hands in his pockets and just smirks at you. That stupid smirk, displaying half of his teeth and perfectly showing his lip ring.

“What do you want from me, Hobie?” you question after placing the figure back on its stand.

“Jus- Just wanted to apologize for last night,” he starts.

“You mean this morning? We talked at 1 am, remember?” You say, passive aggressively.

“Right, whatever. You’re… You’re right,” he exhaled, “I shouldn’t be blasting my music that early. It’s inconsiderate and rude to the people in my vicinity,” he breathes.

In the time you’ve known him you don’t think you’ve ever heard him say sorry. You’re taken aback, did he really apologize? And did he sound genuinely sorry?

“Oh, oh uhm thanks,” you sat, still skeptical a camera crew would come out laughing saying this whole thing was a prank.

“I wanted to see if you maybe wanted to come to my show tonight? We could get dinner after or whatever you want,” He scratches the back of his neck, he’s nervous.

“I’d like that, I guess,” you reluctantly say.

“Wicked. Uhm, i’ll be leaving then. Sorry again,” he says. Shooting finger guns at you and making his way out the door.

You smile, maybe, just maybe, Hobies getting to you. As he’s leaving you could swear you see some blue and red material with spikes on it slipping out of his pocket.

#spiderman x y/n #spiderman atsv #spiderverse x reader #spiderman x reader #hobie brown #atsv hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie x reader #spider punk #spiderpunk x reader #spiderpunk x y/n #marvel x reader #spiderman atsv x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman x you

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rockingbytheseaside · 19 days

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Hey I really love your writings and drawings, could I request a capitano one shot, where he meets the embodiment of death on a battlefield and after some time they fall in love, please. I hope you have a great day/night.

(anon, you are literally speaking my language rn, because I had that same idea. Hope I did it justice ❣ slight enemies to lovers, fluff, reader hinted to have abyss powers)

✦ A dance between the unyielding & the unconquerable

✧ The current Pyro Archon, Mavuika, harbored a profound distaste for dealing with You and Il Capitano.

Not because of the obvious concerns such as the 1st Harbinger jeopardizing the safety of the gnosis, or you being an entity of abyssal nature. But because currently, the two of you stood in the grand arena exchanging too many… pleasantries.

“To see you grace this battle arena with your might is truly an honor no man can ever hope to achieve. I'm looking forward to witnessing your grandeur once more.”

The Captain held your hand in his armored one, his helmeted head leaned for a reverence kiss, knowing well these same hands could end him if you so desired. You mirrored his polite gentleness and smiled with a soft bow - “Nonsense, the honor is all mine to see you in action.”

Mavuika was already removing her red optics and sighing dejectedly. They will never get this over with. She saw a fair share of competitive banter between opponents in her time: tense bickering, respectful encouragement, or excited chatter. But witnessing the stoic, stern Harbinger exchanging smitten words with his immortal enemy? You two looked more like a couple ready to slow dance.

Perhaps your and Capitano's everlasting rivalry always resembled a dance.

✧ Centuries ago, when the enigmatic faceless Fatuus first acquired the title of “The Captain”, he was employed by The Jester for one simple task – Find you and eliminate you. You resembled a simple mortal, yet one gaze at your eyes, and the vision of abyssal hell could be reflected. The personification of oblivion, strolling the surface of Teyvat innocently, leaving no trace behind yet appearing soundlessly.

Your first exchange with him proved uneventful, as well. “A Fatui… Harbinger? What's that?” - was all you said back then. Nonetheless, Capitano knew he shouldn't underestimate your anomalous powers, he is a powerful man himself, and his blade knows no deception.

He almost died that day.

Years passed, and the scars or toils of your battles with him remained. With constant expedition to the abyss, The Harbinger ventured between realms seeking you out for revenge. Each time you crossed paths, the outcome remained the same - a polite exchange, followed by earth-shattering battles where both of your weapons clash and bodies are exerted. However, was the Harbinger seeking you out of his obligation for the Fatui, or because you were the only one who witnessed his full might? Perhaps, because you were the one to draw scars along his skin, a fair result of the duels he ignited. Or because only you knew of the thrill the two of you provided when battling?

When bodies are taught with swift agility, blood surges hot with each evade. He feels your movement, swift and soundless, yet each murderous blow carries elegance as you fight him. This wasn't a gentle dance where he'll hold your delicate hand, and guide you on the ballroom floor by the waist. No, even if he secretly wished to. Alas, this was a dance where you would crush him to his knees, feel his sword pinning back against your weapon, holding his knuckles to block his direct attack.

And he loved every second of it. The way you moved effortlessly, mirrored his excitement and triumphantly knocked him to the floor, or used your abilities to loom over him. The Captain makes sure that all his attacks are up close and personal against yours.

✧ At times, when fate mockingly sends him back following your shadow, he’d encounter you in less hostile places. You sat at some ledge of a cliff, not far away from the People of the Springs tribe, your head raised to look at the fake stars of Teyvat. The Harbinger knew there were civilians nearby, initiating the usual duels would be unwise. Instead, he would sit next to you and raise his helmeted face at the taunting stars that brought you together. It was a rare moment of solitude, to see your figure next to him, so human-like and simple. Even he feels so human in your presence.

And on such quiet, gentle nights – you two would just talk. Legs inching closer to sit close by. A hand gently placed on top of another. Silhouettes of two faces leaning tenderly into one, unseen by the dark sky as they exchange silent kisses.

It was a foolish fate, for the immovable to fall in love with the indestructible. Thus, this was your life with the 1st Fatui Harbinger.

✧ Going back to the present with Mavuika; the Pyro Archon received reports that not only did the Fatui send their strongest Harbinger, but the Abyss also sent their most formidable entity. For Natlan, this would be grave news, but as she delves deeper into understanding the two of you, the pieces of the puzzle start to fit together. How come the Captain is always conveniently there when you are sighted? How come when you two are supposedly meant to clash, no actual devastations happen?

Instead, Il Capitano stays close to you. His armored hand is often clasped around yours to kiss the skin that can shower the world with annihilation. He'd drape his coat over your figure protectively, shielding you from stranger's fearful stares. You never liked unwanted attention, only he had the right to bask you in his. And most importantly, he'd kneel beside you so you may cup his helmeted face and bestow upon him tender kisses on his pitch-black visage.

Perhaps Mavuika has nothing to worry about. If the immovable cancels out the indestructible, then you two are not here to wreck chaos onto Natlan. Maybe you two are using it as a honeymoon destination.

#genshin impact #genshin headcanons #il capitano x reader #capitano x reader #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui x reader #fatui harbingers #genshin impact fatui #capitano #il capitano #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #enemies to lovers #gender neutral reader #genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact headcanons

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newobsessionweekly · 5 months

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Rays of hope

Main masterlist | The Rookie masterlist

Tim Bradford x wife!reader

Fandom: The Rookie

Summary: Your son is kidnapped and you and your husband, Tim, do everything you can to get him back.

ANGST | Hurt to comfort

Requested: Yes - here

Warnings: Kidnapping, kid being held hostage, description of being shot, injuries, losing consciousness.

A/N: I LOVE WRITING ANGST. I've worked so hard on this one and I absolutely love how it turned out. I won't say anything else, I'll let you enjoy it. I have so many ideas and I seriously make it a full time job writing everything.

Words: 6.1k

GIF not mine, credits to the owner.

As the soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, the Bradford household stirred with the promise of a new day. The aroma of brewing coffee mingled with the gentle sounds of morning chatter as you and Tim bustled around the kitchen, preparing for the day ahead.

Evan, your bright-eyed three-year-old, bounced around the room with infectious energy, his laughter filling the air. Tim knelt down, scooping his son up into his strong arms, showering him with tickles and kisses.

"Hey there, little man," he chuckled, his voice infused with affection. "What adventures are you up today?"

Evan giggled gleefully, wrapping his tiny arms around his father's neck. His response was a jumble of words, excitement evident despite his struggles with forming coherent sentences. "Catch the bad guys like mommy and daddy!"

Tim chuckled, planting a gentle kiss on Evan's cheek. "That's right, buddy. Just like Mommy and Daddy" he said, his voice gentle as he tousled Evan's hair affectionately. "But first, how about some superhero breakfast?"

Tim's presence seemed to illuminate the room even more. He approached you with a tender smile, his eyes reflecting the depth of his love as he enveloped you in his embrace. His arms wrapped around you securely, a comforting shield against any worries or doubts.

"Morning, baby," his voice, like a soothing melody, whispered into your ear, sending shivers of warmth down your spine. "How are my two favorite girls this morning?"

In that moment, as his hand brushed over your bump with such tender care, you felt an overwhelming rush of love and gratitude for the man standing before you. Tim's gaze lingered on you, his eyes filled with an unspoken promise of unwavering support and devotion.

"We're doing great," you replied, leaning into his embrace, savoring the feeling of being held so close.

Tim pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, his lips lingering there for a moment as if to convey all the love he felt. "You look absolutely radiant," he murmured, his voice filled with awe and admiration. "I swear, every day you glow even more."

As Tim settled Evan into his chair, you couldn't help but admire the sight before you. Tim embodied strength and tenderness in equal measure. Dressed casually, his rugged charm shone through effortlessly. With every movement, his love for you and your son was evident, his hands deftly helped Evan eat breakfast while his eyes sparkled with warmth. Watching him with Evan, you couldn't help but feel a wave of adoration for the man who filled your home with love and security.

"Uh-oh. We have a problem," you announced, your voice tinged with concern as you glanced down at your phone. "Nanny just texted me. She can't make it today."

Tim's brow furrowed slightly as he considered the situation, his mind already working on a solution. "What about your mom?" he suggested. "Can't she babysit Evan today?"

You shook your head regretfully, a sigh escaping your lips. "I don't think so. She's outside LA now," you explained, your thoughts racing to find an alternative. "Maybe your sister?"

At the mention of Genny, Tim's expression darkened slightly, "No, custody battle today," he murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of worry. "We'll figure something out, baby. Don't worry."

As you and Tim exchanged worried glances, Evan piped up from his seat, his innocent voice breaking the tension in the room. "Mommy, Daddy, no worry," he declared, his eyes wide with determination. "Evan help!"

You stepped into the familiar hustle and bustle of the station and Evan's eyes widened in wonder at the sight of officers in their crisp uniforms bustling about their duties. With a gleeful tug on Tim's hand, he eagerly dashed around, taking in every detail with unbridled enthusiasm.

"Daddy, look! Cops!" Evan exclaimed, his words a jumble of excitement as he pointed at the officers. "Lots and lots!"

Tim chuckled softly, his heart swelling with pride at his son's eagerness. "That's right, buddy," he affirmed, his voice warm with affection. "This is where mommy and daddy work, with all their friends."

Your son darted around, his boundless energy matched only by his excitement, he greeted each familiar face with enthusiasm, his words a mixture of gibberish and genuine attempts at conversation.

"Hi, Lulu!" Evan exclaimed, flashing Lucy a toothy grin as he reached up to give her a high-five.

Lucy laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement. "Hi there, little buddy! If it isn't our favourite visitor!" she replied, returning the high-five with a gentle pat on the head. "You've grown so much since the last time we saw you!"

Evan beamed at the attention, his chest swelling with pride. "I big boy!" he declared proudly, his words punctuated by a triumphant grin.

Next, Evan turned his attention to Angela, his eyes alight with recognition. "Hi, Auntie Angie!" he chirped, reaching out to tug on her sleeve.

Angela's heart melted at the endearing nickname, her smile softening as she crouched down to Evan's level. "Hey, champ," she said, ruffling his hair affectionately. "He's the spitting image of his mother." she said to Lucy, shooting you a playful wink.

Evan beamed at the praise, his chest puffing out with pride. "I grow big like Daddy!" he declared, his words filled with confidence.

Nyla and Nolan watched the exchange with fond amusement, their own smiles widening as Evan made his rounds. You watched your son with amusement, glad he's terrorising your friends and gave you and your husband a moment to catch your breath.

"Don't forget Nyla and John." Evan eagerly nodded at your words, making his way to Nyla first.

She joined in, her face breaking into a wide smile as she crouched down to Evan's level. "Hey there, buddy! You remember my name?" she extended her hand for a handshake.

Evan shook her hand vigorously, his eyes shining with excitement. "You Nyla! I Evan, I help mommy and daddy catch bad guys!" he announced proudly, his words punctuated by a giggle.

Nolan chuckled, ruffling Evan's hair affectionately. "Looks like you've got quite the little helper there, Tim," he remarked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Evan saw the opportunity for more attention and he grabbed Nolan's pants, "John, look!" he exclaimed, pointing at something only he could see.

Nolan chuckled, crouching down to Evan's level. "What am I looking at, buddy?" he asked with a grin.

Evan giggled mischievously, his eyes dancing with mischief. "You funny!" he declared, wrapping his tiny arms around the officer's neck in a spontaneous hug.

Then, in a burst of excitement, Evan's face lit up with a newfound revelation. "I meet baby sister soon!" he announced, his words tumbling out in a rush.

The officers exchanged surprised glances, their expressions shifting from amusement to shock at the unexpected news. "Baby sister?" Angela echoed, her voice tinged with disbelief. "Congratulations!"

Nolan grinned, clapping Tim on the back in hearty congratulations. "Well, Bradford. Looks like you're in for double trouble," he teased, his tone affectionate yet teasing.

Amidst the chorus of well wishes and congratulations, both you and Tim couldn't help but feel a swell of gratitude for the supportive community they had found within the station.

"So, what's the little guy doing here?" Angela inquired, her brow furrowed in concern.

Tim sighed, running a hand through his hair as he explained the morning's events. "Well, nanny bailed on us last minute," he admitted, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "We didn't have enough time to find someone else to watch him."

Nyla nodded understandingly, her expression sympathetic. "I can call James," she offered, already reaching for her phone. "He can take Evan with him for the day."

Meanwhile, Lucy's eyes lit up with an idea. "And Tamara's here for a school project," she added eagerly, gesturing towards the young woman across the room. "She can watch Evan in the meantime."

Tim's shoulders visibly relaxed at the offers of help, gratitude flooding his heart. "Thank you, both of you," he said sincerely, his voice filled with relief.

You felt a wave of gratitude wash over you, touched by the kindness and support of your colleagues. Despite the unexpected hiccup in their morning routine, you couldn't help but feel reassured knowing that you had such caring friends to rely on.

As Evan bounced around the room, his excitement palpable, you couldn't help but smile at the sight of your son surrounded by so much love and warmth.

Tamara returned from the restroom and her heart skipped a beat at the sight of the empty break room. Evan's toys lay abandoned on the table, but there was no sign of the energetic three-year-old. She left only for a moment, assigning Smitty to keep an eye on Evan but she couldn't find any of them.

"Evan?" she called out, her voice tinged with concern as she scanned the room frantically. "Where are you?"

Panic began to bubble up inside her as she rushed out into the hallway, calling out for Evan at the top of her lungs. "Evan!" she shouted, her voice echoing off the walls of the station. "Come on, kid! This isn't funny. We didn't agree to play hide and seek!"

Her heart pounded in her chest as she raced through the corridors, her eyes darting from room to room in search of any sign of the missing child. The fear gnawed at her insides, threatening to overwhelm her with its intensity.

"Y/N's gonna kill me," she murmured under her breath, her mind racing with worst-case scenarios. She couldn't bear the thought of facing you and Tim with the news that your son was missing on her watch.

With each passing moment, the weight of responsibility pressed down on her shoulders, driving her to search even more desperately for Evan. She prayed with all her might that he was safe and sound, waiting to be found somewhere within the station.

Tamara's heart raced as she rushed to Angela's desk, her hands trembling with fear. Her eyes widened at the sight of Tamara's panicked expression, immediately sensing that something was terribly wrong.

"What happened?" Angela asked, her voice filled with concern as she reached out to steady Tamara.

"It's Evan," Tamara blurted out, her words tumbling out in a rush. "I don't know what happened. He—uh, he's not in the break room. I can't find him."

Panic surged through Tamara's veins, threatening to overwhelm her as she struggled to catch her breath. She couldn't shake the feeling of dread that gripped her heart, knowing that Evan was missing and she was responsible for his safety.

Angela's eyes widened in alarm as she grasped the gravity of the situation. "Okay, okay, let's stay calm," she reassured, though her own heart raced with fear. "Let's go to talk to Grey."

Together, they hurried to Sergeant Grey's office, their steps quickening with each passing moment. Angela explained the situation to the sergeant, her voice urgent as she described Evan's disappearance. He wasted no time in springing into action, dispatching officers to search the station up and down and the surrounding area for any sign of Evan.

Returning to Angela's desk, they accessed the security cameras from the station, their hands shaking as they scrolled through the footage. With bated breath, they watched as a figure dressed in black approached Evan in the break room, his face obscured from view.

As they watched in horror, the figure took Evan's hand and led him out of the station through the front door, disappearing into the bustling city beyond.

Angela's stomach churned with dread as she exchanged a horrified glance with Tamara. "We have to find him," she said, her voice trembling with urgency.

You and your rookie arrived as backup for Tim and the day seemed like any other—filled with the usual hustle and bustle of police work and the consuming thoughts about your son now more than ever. It wasn't about that you didn't trust Tamara or James, it was more the fact that your son was in a not so familiar place.

When Sergeant Grey's voice cut through the radio, your maternal instincts kicked in, suddenly feeling something was not right.

"7-Adam-19, 7-Adam-100, please return to the station," he commanded, his voice terse and filled with an unspoken sense of dread.

Immediately, you and your husband exchanged a look of concern, your hearts pounding in your chests as you hastily wrapped up the call. Questions swirled in your minds, but you could sense the urgency in Wade's voice, driving you to act without hesitation.

Rushing towards the station, your thoughts were racing with a million terrifying possibilities. The atmosphere was charged with tension, officers scurrying about with grim expressions etched upon their faces. You and Tim shared a look of mutual fear, your hearts pounding in your chests as you braced yourselves for the worst.

"What happened? Where's Evan?" your voice trembled with fear as you approached Sergeant Grey, your eyes searching desperately for any sign of reassurance.

Grey's expression was grave as he met your gaze, his own eyes filled with sorrow and sympathy. "Please sit down," he urged gently.

But Tim couldn't bring himself to comply, his chest tight with anxiety and dread. "Don't do that," he interjected. "Just tell us what happened."

Sergeant Grey sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping under the weight of the news he had to deliver. "Fine," he relented. "Evan's been kidnapped. We're waiting for the security footage of all cameras around the station, but Detective Lopez might have a lead."

The words hit you and Tim like a sledgehammer, leaving you reeling with disbelief and anguish. Your sweet, innocent son had been taken from you, and you both were powerless.

The weight of the situation settles over you like a suffocating blanket, "Thompson" the name escapes your lips in a whisper, heavy with the burden of past encounters with the man.

Memories flood your mind—the chilling threats, the sinister promises of retribution, the menacing glint in his eyes as he swore vengeance upon you and your loved ones.

Tim's expression darkens with a mix of anger and concern, his mind racing as he processes the implications of Thompson's involvement. "I didn't know he got out," he admits, his voice tight with frustration and worry.

Your eyes fill with tears, heart aching with the unbearable fear of the unknown as you grasp your husband's hand tightly. "We gotta find him, Tim. We need to find Evan," you plead, voice trembling with desperation.

Tim's jaw clenches with resolve as he pulls you into a tight embrace, his arms a comforting anchor amidst the storm of emotions raging within you. "We will, baby," he vows, his voice a steady reassurance in the face of uncertainty.

He holds you even tighter, his touch a silent reassurance amidst the chaos that surrounds you. With gentle strokes of his hand along your back, he tries to soothe the trembling of your body, his touch conveying more comfort than words ever could.

A wave of despair washed over you both as you sank into nearby chairs, minds racing with a whirlwind of emotions. In that moment, your world shattered into a million jagged pieces, leaving behind only a gaping void where your son's laughter once filled the air. Both of you were consumed by a sense of helplessness and grief, your hearts heavy with the unbearable weight of uncertainty.

Tim feels your trembling body in his arms, he knows that mere words can never be enough to ease the crushing weight of your fear. With gentle fingers, he brushes away the tears that stain your cheeks, his touch tender and comforting. Each stroke is a promise—a promise that he will do everything in his power to bring your son home safe and sound.

In the depths of his heart, Tim feels a surge of pain and helplessness, knowing that you, his wife, are bearing the weight of your son's disappearance with every fiber of your being. His own worries and fears are pushed aside as he focuses solely on providing comfort and strength to the one he loves most in the world.

Tamara rushes to your side, her usually composed attitude shattered by panic and guilt. Her face is pale, her hands shaking as she struggles to find the words to express her guilt.

"Y/N, Tim... I'm so sorry," she stammers, her voice quivering with emotion. "I was only gone for a minute, I left Smitty with him. I... I don't know what happened. When I got back, he—uh, he was gone. I'm so sorry."

Your heart breaks for Tamara, knowing the weight of guilt she must be carrying on her shoulders. Despite your own anguish, you reach out to embrace her, offering comfort and solace in the midst of the chaos.

"It's not your fault, Tamara," you reassure her, voice filled with compassion and understanding. "It's okay. We'll find him."

The tension in the room reaches a fever pitch, Angela breaks the heavy silence with a sense of urgency in her voice. "Guys, I think I've found something," she announces, her eyes darting between Tim and you.

Tim's heart leaps with hope as he strides over to Angela's desk, you close behind. "Show us," Tim demanded, his voice tight with barely contained emotion.

Angela quickly pulled up several surveillance footage clips on her computer screen, the images grainy but unmistakable. "Look here," she pointed, her finger tracing the path of a rusty van leaving the surroundings of the station.

Tim's jaw tightened with determination as he surveyed the footage, his mind already racing with plans and strategies to track down the van and bring Evan home. "It's worth a shot," he declared.

Your heart swelled with gratitude and relief, eyes shining with tears as you leaned in closer to the screen. "We have to go after it," you insisted, voice trembling with desperation and determination.

Tim nodded in agreement, his resolve unwavering. "Alright. Let's get airship support and all the surveillance footage we can find. We need to know every move that van makes," he commanded, already reaching for his radio to issue the orders.

Before you could finalize the plans, Tim's hand shot out to stop you in your tracks, his expression wrought with concern. "You should stay behind," he insisted, his voice soft but firm, his eyes pleading for you to consider your safety.

Your heart sank at the thought of being left behind, your fear for Evan overwhelming any sense of self-preservation. "Not a chance," you declared, your voice trembling with determination. "I'm coming with you. We need all the help we can get."

Tim's gaze softened as he looked into the your eyes, his heart swelling with love and admiration, "Y/N, please. I need to know you're safe. I need you and the baby girl safe," he confessed.

Your resolve only hardened at Tim's words, determination unyielding in the face of adversity. "And what about our boy? What about Evan? I need to find him," you insisted, voice filled with desperation.

In that moment, Tim knew that there was no arguing with your determination. With a heavy sigh, he relented, his heart heavy with worry but his resolve unshaken. "Alright," he murmured, pulling you into a tight embrace. "But promise me you'll stay close. I can't lose you too."

You nodded, your heart swelling with gratitude for Tim's understanding and support. "I promise," you vowed.

With a sense of urgency driving forward, you quickly arrived at the last location where the van was seen. The air crackled with tension as you surveyed the surroundings, the weight of the mission pressing down on you.

Tim's voice cut through the silence as he commanded the team to split up and patrol on foot, his words echoing with authority. "We need to cover every inch of this area," he instructed. "Lucy, Nolan, take east side. Nyla, Angela, cover west. We'll take north."

You nodded in silent agreement, eyes scanning the area for any sign of movement. With each step you took, your hearts hammered in your chests, minds racing with a thousand terrifying possibilities.

Together, you moved cautiously towards the building, the footsteps echoing in the eerie silence of the abandoned street. Tim's hand brushed against yours, a silent gesture of reassurance as you approached the looming structure.

Around the corner, you caught sight of the van parked haphazardly in the alleyway, its doors hanging open as if inviting you inside. Tim's grip tightened on his radio, the other one squeezing your hand even tighter, as he relayed your location, his voice steady and controlled despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"7-Adam-19, we've located the van. Requesting immediate backup at the north entrance," he spoke into the radio, his words precise and urgent.

With bated breath, you entered the building, hearts pounding in your chests as you navigated through the dimly lit corridors hand in hand. Every creak of the floorboards, every flutter of movement in the shadows, sent shivers down your spines as you pressed forward, determination unwavering in the face of danger.

Your hearts stopped as you took in the sight before you— your precious son, bound and gagged, his eyes wide with fear, and the kidnapper, a sinister glint in his eyes as he held the gun to Evan's head.

Evan's small body trembling in fear as he stared up at both you and Tim with tear-filled eyes. The sight of him, helpless and vulnerable, struck a deep chord within you, igniting a firestorm of emotions that threatened to consume you whole.

The knots that bound Evan's wrists and ankles were tight and unforgiving, cutting into his delicate skin and leaving angry red marks in their wake. The sight of your son restrained like a prisoner sent a wave of nausea crashing over, your stomach churning with a mixture of anger and helplessness.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you took in the sight of your son, heart breaking with every whimper and cry that escaped his lips. It was a sight you had only imagined in your worst nightmares—a sight that would haunt you both for the rest of your days.

You attempted to approach Evan, heart pounding with desperation and fear as Thompson responded with a chilling gesture, taking off the safety of the gun and pressing it even more firmly against Evan's trembling head. You froze in your tracks as you watched in horror, helpless to do anything but stand by and pray for a miracle.

Tim maintained a facade of indifference and purpose despite the pain and anger that consumed both of you. His face was a mask of determination, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity as he faced down the kidnapper. Inside, however, his heart was a tornado of fear and worry, his mind racing with a million worst-case scenarios.

Your heart felt like it was being crushed in a vice grip, your breath catching in your throat as you struggled against the overwhelming urge to protect your child.

Evan's whimpering pierced through the tense silence, his small voice tinged with confusion and fear as he struggled to understand the gravity of the situation unfolding before him.

Tears streamed down your face as you reached out a trembling hand towards your son, desperate to comfort him, but Tim's firm grip on your arm stopped you in your tracks.

"We can't risk it," Tim whispered urgently as he pulled you back to his side, his eyes never leaving Evan.

Your heart felt like it was being torn apart as you watched Evan's innocent whimpering, your own fear for your son threatening to consume you whole.

"Please," Tim pleaded as he addressed Thompson, his hands held up in a gesture of surrender. "Let him go. We can talk about this. Just let him go."

But Thompson's face twisted with anger and resentment, his grip on the gun tightening as he protested vehemently. "You think I'm just gonna let you walk away after what you did to me?" he spat. "You think I'm just gonna let you go back to your perfect little life while I rot in prison?"

Your heart sank as Thompson's words echoed in your mind, "What do you want?" you asked, your heart breaking at the thought of what Thompson might demand. "I'll give you anything. I'll do anything, just please let him go."

His eyes narrowed with hatred as he glared at you, "I want you to suffer," he snarled, his words like daggers in the silence. "Just like I did."

You and Tim tried to talk Thompson down, your hearts pounded in your chests, every second feeling like an eternity as you desperately sought to keep the kidnapper occupied. With Lucy and Nolan slowly approaching from behind, you prayed that they would be able to disarm him before it was too late.

Nolan positioned himself strategically behind Evan, ready to act as a shield if needed, while Lucy positioned herself behind Thompson, her muscles tensed and prepared for action.

"You're making a mistake," Tim stated firmly, his gaze unwavering as he locked eyes with the kidnapper. "You don't want to do this. Let my son go, and we can figure this out."

Thompson's eyes narrowed, his grip on the gun tightening as he glared at Tim with undisguised hostility. "You think I'm just gonna let you walk away after what you did?" he growled.

Tim's jaw clenched with determination as he met his gaze head-on. "We made a mistake," he admitted, "But that doesn't mean you have to make things worse. Let's talk about this like rational adults."

The kidnapper's expression remained cold and unforgiving, his finger twitching on the trigger as he glared at Tim and you with a mixture of anger and resentment. "You ruined my life," he spat, his voice filled with bitterness. "Now it's time for you to pay."

Tim's heart sank as he watched Thompson's finger inch closer to the trigger, every fiber of his being screaming to protect Evan at all costs. "Listen to me," Tim urged, "This isn't the answer. Let Evan go, and we can work this through."

But Thompson's eyes burned with a fierce determination, his grip on the gun unyielding as he leveled it at Evan's head. "It's too late for that," he snarled, his voice filled with rage. "You took everything from me. Now it's time for you to suffer."

Your heart sank at his words, the weight of his hatred crushing you beneath its suffocating grip. "We're sorry," you whispered, "We didn't know..."

Thompson cut you off with a bitter laugh, his laughter echoing off the walls of the empty room. "You didn't know?" he scoffed, "You didn't know that because of you, my wife and daughter are dead?"

Tears stung your eyes as Thompson's words hit you like a punch to the gut, the guilt weighing heavy on your conscience. "We're sorry," you repeated, "We didn't mean for any of this to happen."

His expression remained cold and unforgiving, his gaze fixed on Evan with a mixture of rage and sorrow. "You think your apologies can bring them back?" he growled, his voice laced with bitterness. "You think your words mean anything to me?"

"Even if you take our son away, it won't bring your wife and daughter back," Tim interjected, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. "Don't make things worse for yourself. If you let him go, we won't say a word. You won't go back to prison."

His words hung heavy in the air, a plea for reason in the midst of chaos.

But Thompson's patience wore thin, his grip on the gun tightening as he grew increasingly agitated. His eyes gleamed with malice as he surveyed the scene before him, a twisted smirk playing on his lips.

"Maybe you're right," he sneered, his voice dripping with venom. "Maybe your little bastard isn't the solution. Your whore of a wife is. And pregnant with your daughter. She's perfect."

The words struck like a dagger to the heart, sending a wave of agony crashing over you. Tim's jaw clenched with barely contained fury, his hands curling into fists at his sides as he struggled to maintain his composure.

When the kidnapper's attention shifted towards you, pointing the gun in your direction with a menacing glare, it created a window of opportunity for Lucy and Nolan to intervene. In that harrowing moment, your heart skipped a beat as the barrel of the gun leveled towards you, but amidst the terror, a glimmer of hope flickered to life.

Lucy lunged forward, her eyes focused solely on disarming the kidnapper before he could harm Evan any further. She reached for the gun, her muscles tensing as she prepared to wrestle it from Thompson's grasp.

But in the chaos of the moment, his finger tightened on the trigger, the deafening sound of gunfire shattering the tense silence like a thunderclap. Your heart stopped as you watched in horror, a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins as the bullet struck its mark. Pain erupted through your body, but in the heat of the moment, the adrenaline dulled the sensation, allowing you to push through.

Every second felt like an eternity as you and Tim rushed to your son's side, the adrenaline coursing through your veins driving you forward. With trembling hands, you helped Nolan loosen the knots, your fingers fumbling in your haste to free Evan from his restraints.

As the last knot came undone, Evan let out a whimper, his tear-streaked face turning towards you and Tim with a look of desperation.

"Mommy!" he cried, his voice trembling.

Your heart shattered into a million pieces at the sound of Evan's voice, tears streaming down your face as you gathered him into your arms. "I'm here, baby," you murmured, your voice shaking with emotion. "Mommy and daddy are here. You're safe now."

Lucy pressed on, pinning the kidnapper to the ground and she swiftly secured him in handcuffs, effectively neutralizing the threat he posed.

Tim knelt down beside you and Evan, his movements were a blur of frantic yet tender gestures. With trembling hands, he pulled you both into his embrace, holding you close as if his mere touch could ward off the looming threat.

"I've got you," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion as he pressed kisses to your foreheads. "I've got both of you. Everything's going to be okay." His words were a fervent mantra, repeated like a prayer as he desperately tried to reassure himself as much as you and Evan.

You found solace in Tim's embrace, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a soothing lullaby against your ear. Despite the pain coursing through your body, his presence offered a sense of calm amidst the storm, grounding you in the midst of chaos. With each tender touch and whispered word,exhaustion began to overtake you, the weight of the ordeal bearing down on your weary body, sleep beckoned like a siren's call.

Your eyelids grew heavy with weariness, the pain fading into the background as you surrendered to the embrace of sleep, trusting Tim to keep you safe.

Tim's heart clenched with fear as he felt you grow limp in his arms, panic surging through him like a tidal wave. "No, no, stay with me," he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. "Don't you dare leave me, Y/N."

But despite his desperate pleas, unconsciousness claimed you, your body going slack against him. Evan's worried voice pierced through the fog of Tim's panic, the little boy shaking your hand with his tiny fingers. "Mommy?" he called out.

Tim's heart shattered at the sight of you lying unconscious on the ground, your face pale and peaceful in sleep. With trembling hands, he scooped Evan into his arms, shielding him from the sight of his mother's still form.

"It's okay, buddy. Mommy's just resting, that's all." Tim whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he held Evan close. But inside, Tim's heart was gripped by fear, his mind racing with worry for you and your unborn baby.

Tim's shouts for help pierced through the chaos, his voice trembled with desperation, tears streaming down his cheeks unchecked as he held Evan tightly in his arms. Each cry for assistance was a desperate plea, a fervent prayer for the help that he so desperately needed.

As the paramedics rushed to your side, Tim watched in horror as they whisked you away on a stretcher. Fear gnawed at his insides, a cold dread settling over him like a suffocating blanket, his chest tightened with every step they took, each moment stretching out into an eternity of agonizing uncertainty.

Angela rushed at Tim's side, and with trembling hands, he handed over Evan into her care, his voice shaking with emotion as he tried to reassure his son in the midst of his own storm.

"It's okay, champ," Tim murmured, his voice choked with tears. "Go with Aunt Angela. Daddy's going with mommy to make sure she's okay." Despite the weight of his own fears bearing down on him, Tim forced a small smile for Evan's sake.

Tim sat at your bedside, his fingers gently tracing patterns on the back of your hand as he watched over you. Evan was nestled against his chest, his soft snores filling the room with a comforting rhythm.

"How are you holding up, Tim?" Lucy asked, placing a reassuring hand on Tim's shoulders.

"Hanging in there." he whispered, caressing his son's hair like it was an anchor that kept his sanity at peace.

They took turns checking on you, their concern palpable in the air as Tim greeted them with a weary but grateful smile. With each visit, Tim's heart warmed by the unwavering support of his fellow officers and friends.

"Thanks for being here," he offered, his voice tinged with exhaustion but filled with appreciation. "It means a lot."

Angela's gaze softened as she placed a reassuring hand on Tim's shoulder. "We're here for you, Tim," she reassured him. "Whatever you need, just say the word."

As you began to stir, Tim's heart skipped a beat, his gaze never wavering from your face as you slowly blinked awake. "Hey there," he whispered softly, a tender smile gracing his lips as he brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead. "How are you feeling?"

You returned his smile weakly, your voice barely above a whisper as you replied, "Better, now that you're here." The weight of the past few hours pressed heavily upon you, but the sight of Tim's presence beside you brought a sense of calm that you desperately needed.

Tim's heart swelled with relief at the sound of your voice, his fingers intertwining with yours as he leaned in to press another gentle kiss to your forehead. "I'm never leaving your side again," he vowed, his voice filled with conviction as he gazed into your eyes.

Evan stirred against Tim's chest, his sleepy voice calling out for you. "Mommy" he mumbled, his little arms reaching out in search of you.

Tim's heart melted at the sight of his son, his love for both you and Evan swelling within him like a tidal wave. "Shh, buddy," he whispered, his voice soft and soothing as he gently lifted Evan into his arms. "Mommy's right here."

Evan's sleepy eyes widened with delight as he caught sight of you, his face lighting up with joy. With a sleepy grin, he reached out towards you, his tiny fingers curling around your hand as Tim helped him to gently crawl onto the bed beside you.

You couldn't help but smile at the sight of your son, his presence bringing a sense of warmth and comfort that washed over you like a gentle wave. With Tim's steady hand guiding him, Evan nestled against your side, his sleepy gaze meeting yours with an expression of pure adoration.

"Love you, Mommy," Evan murmured, his voice filled with sleepy affection as he snuggled closer to you.

"I love you more, sweetheart," you whispered in reply as you pressed a tender kiss to Evan's forehead.

Tim's eyes glistened as he looked down at the two of you. With a tender smile, he leaned in to press a kiss to both your foreheads, his touch a silent affirmation of his love for you both.

"I love you both," Tim whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he held you and Evan close, "More than anything in this world."

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hells-wasabii · 8 months

Note

Hey, can I request an Angel dust x Husk x fem!reader headcannons? Only if you're comfortable with it, like both Angel dust and the reader are dating Husk while Angel dust and Reader are best friends when they were alive and now even in hell. Maybe even a bonus (if reader uses they/she pronouns) and if Angel dust or reader would always introduce husk like, ex:

Reader: Hey, this is my boyfriend Husk, and this is his boyfriend, Angel Dust!! :D

Or vice versa? And when Husk asks why they always say that, they respond with "it's fun to see others' reaction."

Sorry this is so long. This is my first request, and English is not my first language. Thank you! And I hope you have a good day or night!!

A/N: Oh my god, i love this! Husk has two hands! a great idea for a polycule! Fun fact for anyone who doesn't know, but based on when they died and how old they were when they did, Angel and Husk would have been in the same age range! Thank you for sending in this request! Its actually my first time writing for a poly ship! I hope that I'm able to do this one justice!

Characters: Angel Dust(platonic)/Husk (Poly)

Type: Headcanons (Angel dust x Husk x she/they!reader, General, Fluff)

You knew Angel Dust even back when he was Anthony, when you had both still been alive, you had been there for him when he left behind the life his father demanded he have. After all, you would have followed him into hell. And you did. Literally. The two of you were inseparable. It was only natural that your friendship continued on in the afterlife.

When Angel went to the Happy- no it was the Hazbin Hotel now- it was only natural that you followed. If your closest friend was going to give this redemption thing a shot then dammit so were you!

That was where the both of you met Husk, the grumpy bartender employed by Alastor. That was when things really fell into place. Like clockwork, you BOTH fell for the disgraced overlord. Of course, neither of you were sure what this would possibly mean for your friendship. Tears were shed, worries were expressed, but as luck would have it, none of that was necessary because the gambler fell for the both of you as well. In the end, you and Angel Dust really were a package deal.

Of course, you and Angel both loved to mess with Husk. You were the embodiment of the meme 'hi, this is my boyfriend, and this is my boyfriend's girlfriend,' Something that you and Angel Dust referenced often, if only because it confused the former overlord. He doesn't use social media often, so it kind of goes over his head.

Nonetheless, the relationship is a very loving one on all fronts. You and Angel Dust were closer than ever, having already practically been platonic soulmates. On top of that, Husk was a doting partner. He would do anything for his partners.

The night that everything came to light had certainly been an interesting one. As per usual both you and Angel were ending off the night at the bar, flirting with the fallen overlord.

"You know that I like the both of you back, right?" "I'm sorry, what?" Angel's eyes looked like they couldn't get any wider as the both of you locked eyes before looking back at Husk. A very long conversation ensued after. And an outing was planned, just the three of you.

A little bonus: Cuddling with Angel and Husk is unbelievably comfortable, they're both super soft.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin headcanons #hazbin imagine #angel dust x reader #husk x reader #huskerdust

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hotvintagepoll · 5 months

Text

Propaganda

Veronica Lake (I Married a Witch, Sullivan's Travels)—her look is so iconic they used her as a visual model for jessica rabbit in who framed roger rabbit and a bunch of other femme fatale types in cartoons and live action alike. i didnt think i liked women and then i saw her in sullivans travels and said gee i hope this doesnt awaken anything in me! every role ive seen her in she absolutely oozes an aura of "i know people would ask me to step on them" and her EYES bro every photo ive looked at for this submission its like shes piercing thru time and space to judge me <3

Eartha Kitt (Anna Lucasta, St. Louis Blues)—My friend and I have a saying: NOBODY is Eartha Kitt. A thousand have tried, and they've all come up empty and will continue to do so. Everyone knows her for something: from "Santa Baby" to Yzma in Emperor's New Groove to Catwoman to making Lady Bird Johnson cry for the Vietnam War. She was a master of comedy and sex, an extremely vocal activist, and she aged like fine wine... I honestly don't know what I can say about her that hasn't already been said, so I'll stick to linking all my propaganda. Like what else do you want from me. She was iconic at everything she ever did. Literally name another. How can anyone even think of her and not want to absolutely drown?

This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Veronica Lake:

Her HAIR, her FIGURE, her VOICE, the way she wore LEATHER AND SANG SONGS FOR NO REASON.

I don't believe there's a person on earth who can watch Veronica Lake in I Married A Witch and not be struck by how gorgeous she is. She had that youthful wonder about her that almost every Hollywood starlet was trying to achieve. Her hairstyle (peekaboo bangs) became an iconic Hollywood style after she popularized it, and made her signature look all the more suggestive. Also, witches are tumblrs favorite!

ICONIC hair sweep

The US government literally begged her to change her hairstyle because it was TOO HOT to handle and women who copied it were getting their hair caught in machinery

Her hairstyle was so iconic and popular that the war department had to come out with a PSA instructing lady ironworkers with ways they could pin their hair up to avoid it getting bound in machinery. [https://veteranlife.com/military-history/veronica-lake/]

She played a lot of femme fatale roles but my favorite is Sullivan’s Travels opposite Joel McRea, which is a comedy. She became famous for her hair style at the time—she wore it long and parted on one side so it would fall over half her face in a very sexy way. They called it a peek-a-boo I think. You’ve definitely seen Bugs Bunny dressed up like her, so I think if she’s being honored in such a way she’s very cool.

look at her

she's GORGEOUS in her little witch outfits that she wore for promos and also in the oversized coats and pajamas she wore throughout the movie...she's got RANGE

My Grandpa supposedly dated her in high school, he drove her to school in his car every day. This is legend in the family.

She has gorgeous hair, has got the smouldering look over the shoulder down PAT, and is just drop-dead gorgeous too!

Schizophrenic icon, popularized the peekaboo hairdo long before Jessica Rabbit

She’s just so prettyyyyy

So much hot in such a tiny package. She was no more than 5 feet tall, and some reports claim as small as 4'9"

If you picture a femme fatale in your head, almost certainly Veronica Lake had a hand in shaping the image you think of. She came to embody the look of the noir leading lady as well as the sound and the performance. Certified Noir Baddie.

Eartha Kitt:

"A hot vintage woman who was not just known for her voice, beauty, poise, and presence, but also her unapologetic ways of speaking about how she was mistreated in the show business as a girl who grew up on cotton fields in South Carolina in the 1930s through the 1940s coming to Broadway first and then Hollywood."

"Have you watched her sing?? Have you seen her face?? Have you heard her talk?? How could you not fall instantly in love. She makes me incoherent with how hot she is."

"She can ACT she can SING she can speak FOUR LANGUAGES she is a GODDESS!!! Although she is (rightfully) remembered for her singing, TV appearances (Catwoman my beloved), and later film roles, her early appearances in film are no less impressive or noteworthy!! She’s an amazing actress with so much charisma in every role. She was also blacklisted from Hollywood for 10 years for criticizing the Johnson administration/Vietnam War, so. Iconic. Also Orson Welles apparently called her “the most exciting woman in the world.”

"She had such a stunning, remarkable appearance, like she could tear you to shreds with just a glance- but the most undeniable part of her hotness was her voice, and it makes sense that it's what most people nowadays know her for. Nothing encapsulates the sheer magnetism of her singing better than this clip of her and Nat King Cole in St. Louis Blues, she pops in at 2:49. Also I know it's post-1970 but her song that was cut from Emperor's New Groove is likely to make you feel Feelings."

Even with as racist as Hollywood was in the 1950s and 60s, Eartha Kitt STILL managed to have a thriving career. She also once had a threesome with Paul Newman and James Dean, and called out LBJ over the Vietnam War so hard that it made First Lady Johnson cry. Eartha Kitt was talented, sexy, and a total badass activist.

#eartha kitt #veronica lake #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 5

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moonselune · 1 month

Note

Hi Seluney! I love your fics, they are tiny highlights in my day so thank you for sharing!

Here is some fluff (if you are interested by that prompt of course!) to think about!

A lot of the party members have very complicated or tragic ties to their family, to say the least! Karlach's parents are beloved but dead, Githyanki don't have the notion of family and Lae'zel mentions not knowing what happened to the others who hatched with her, Astarion and his "siblings"?? Then you have living (or not depending on how your playthrough goes YIKES) parents with Wyll and Shadowheart and it's very painful in another way! (And then you have Gale, who is the only one having an awesome relationship with his mom, you go Gale!)

So what about the companions of your choice being "adopted" by their inlaws (be it a huge extended family or something small) who are very normal loving people and just love Tav's partner. Enjoy some domesticity, family gatherings, homecooked meals and bad dad-jokes, you fools!

After all the game put everyone through, the party members deserve nice things! (AND SO DO YOU SELUNEY!)

Ahhhh so wholesome !!! I love it !! Thank you so much for your support and you deserve nice things too - which I hope to have done with your ask xox

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

The sun was dipping low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the sprawling farmland as you and Karlach approached your family’s homestead. The landscape was dotted with fields of crops, and the sound of livestock filled the air. The farm had always been a haven of activity and life, with your parents at its heart, embodying the spirit of hard work and resilience.

As you walked up the well-trodden path toward the house, you could sense Karlach’s excitement mingled with a hint of apprehension. She had heard countless stories about your family and their boisterous, hands-on lifestyle. Now, she was about to experience it all firsthand.

You gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “Just remember, they’re a bit rough around the edges, but they mean well. They’ll love you if you show them your genuine self.”

Karlach grinned, her eyes gleaming with determination. “Don’t worry, love. I’m ready for whatever they throw at me.”

When you reached the front porch, you could already hear the sounds of your parents bustling around. They were in the middle of preparing dinner, the hearty aroma of something delicious wafting through the air. You gave Karlach a quick squeeze before opening the door and stepping inside.

“Ma! Pa! I’m home!” you called out, your voice carrying through the house.

The commotion in the kitchen paused for a moment before your parents emerged from the back, their faces lighting up with warm, if somewhat skeptical, smiles.

Your mother, a robust woman with a no-nonsense demeanor, and your father, a burly man with a heart of gold, both took in the sight of Karlach with keen eyes. Your mother’s gaze softened immediately, while your father’s expression turned into one of open curiosity.

“Ah, you must be Karlach!” your mother said, her voice rich with warmth. “We’ve heard so much about you.”

Karlach stepped forward confidently, extending her hand. “It’s lovely to meet you both. I’ve heard a lot about this place—can’t wait to see it all.”

Your father’s eyes twinkled as he took Karlach’s hand with a hearty handshake. “Well, you’ve come to the right place. This farm’s got more life in it than any city could ever hold.”

Your mother, not to be outdone, pulled Karlach into a surprisingly fierce hug. “Come on in, dear. You’re just in time to help prep for supper. We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”

Karlach beamed and followed your parents into the kitchen, where she was immediately put to work. The kitchen was a whirlwind of activity—dough being kneaded, vegetables being chopped, and pots clanging. Karlach’s enthusiasm was evident as she rolled up her sleeves and dove right into the chaos, her laughter ringing out as she helped with the preparations.

At first, your parents watched in astonishment as Karlach fit right in with their rough-and-ready approach. She didn’t hesitate to get her hands dirty, joining in with the farm chores, mucking out stables, and even helping with the repairs around the barn. Her fearlessness and exuberance won them over in no time.

Your mother, watching Karlach handle the chores with a grin, leaned over to you and whispered, “You know, she’s got a good head on her shoulders. I like her. She’s not afraid to get her hands dirty.”

Your father, catching a glimpse of Karlach covered in a bit of mud after helping with the pigs, clapped a hand on your shoulder. “She’s got spirit, that one. You should take a page out of her book. None of that fancy city stuff for you. More like Karlach—down-to-earth and tough.”

You chuckled, appreciating their approval and the way they had taken Karlach into their fold so quickly. “I’ll keep that in mind, Pa.”

As the evening progressed, the meal was served, and the conversation flowed easily. Karlach charmed everyone with her stories of adventure and her easy-going nature. Your parents, who had initially been skeptical about anyone who wasn’t tied to the farm’s way of life, had fully embraced Karlach as one of their own.

When the night drew to a close and the stars began to sparkle above, your parents gathered around Karlach, offering her their best wishes and a promise that she was always welcome on the farm.

Your mother placed a hand on Karlach’s shoulder with a smile. “You’ve made quite the impression, dear. You’re part of the family now. Don’t be a stranger.”

Karlach’s eyes shone with genuine emotion as she looked at you, then back at your parents. “Thank you. I feel right at home here.”

As you walked hand-in-hand with Karlach through the now-quiet farm, you felt a profound sense of contentment. Your family had welcomed her with open arms, and their acceptance and love were palpable.

Karlach leaned in closer, her voice soft and full of affection. “Your family is amazing. I never expected to fit in so well.”

You smiled, squeezing her hand gently. “I knew they’d love you. You’re perfect just the way you are.”

And with that, you both enjoyed a serene evening under the stars, knowing that Karlach had truly found a place where she belonged, alongside you and the family who had embraced her with open hearts.

Minthara:

The bustling streets of Baldur’s Gate were alive with activity as you and Minthara navigated through the city, heading toward your home. The contrast between the vibrant, chaotic city and the serene atmosphere of your family’s house was always a bit jarring, but today was especially significant. Minthara had been both eager and apprehensive about meeting your two fathers, and you could sense her anxiety.

As you approached the well-kept house, you could see the warm glow of lanterns spilling out into the street. The scent of freshly baked bread wafted through the open windows, mingling with the distant sounds of city life. Your heart swelled with anticipation; this was an important moment, and you hoped it would go smoothly.

You glanced at Minthara, offering her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. They’ll love you. Just be yourself.”

Minthara, dressed in her usual dark, elegant attire, adjusted her posture nervously. “I know this is a significant moment, but I can’t help feeling uneasy.”

In her defence your fathers were the absolute epitome of what she was raised to think lesser of, two male seldarine drow. But that was her old life, her old beliefs. You had changed her.

You squeezed her hand gently. “My dads are different. They understand what it means to be exiled, and they’ve always been kind-hearted. They won’t judge you.”

With a deep breath, Minthara nodded, and you led her up the path to the front door. You knocked, and the door swung open to reveal your two fathers, both drow with an air of quiet dignity and warmth.

“Welcome home!” your fathers greeted, their smiles broad and genuine. They took in Minthara’s presence with a mix of curiosity and kindness.

Your father, the more talkative of the two, extended his hand with a welcoming gesture. “Ah, you must be Minthara. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. We’ve heard so much about you.”

Minthara hesitated for a moment before shaking his hand, her nerves palpable. “Thank you for having me. I’m… I’m not sure what to expect.”

Your other father, a bit more reserved but equally warm, placed a reassuring hand on Minthara’s shoulder. “We’ve heard about your exile, you poor thing. Please, make yourself comfortable. You’re safe here.”

Minthara’s eyes widened in surprise as she looked between the two of them. She had been expecting hostility or at least a cold reception, but the sincerity in their words and their welcoming gestures took her aback.

As you all moved into the living area, your fathers quickly made Minthara feel at home, offering her a seat by the fire and making small talk. They inquired about her journey, her experiences, and made an effort to ensure she felt at ease.

You noticed Minthara's initial unease gradually melting away as your fathers continued to dote on her. They served her food, asked about her preferences, and seemed genuinely interested in making her feel comfortable.

At one point, your father, noticing Minthara’s hesitation, began to regale her with stories of your childhood. He wanted to ensure she felt included and appreciated, regardless of her background.

Minthara, caught off guard by their kindness, tried to maintain her composure but struggled. She was unaccustomed to such genuine hospitality from drow who were not aligned with Lolth. She found herself being fussed over, with your fathers offering her more attention than you had anticipated.

You could see Minthara’s confusion and discomfort as she tried to navigate this new dynamic. She kept glancing at you, her eyes reflecting a mix of disbelief and discomfort. “I didn’t expect this. Why are they being so kind to me?”

You smiled warmly at her, understanding her surprise. “They know what it’s like to be cast out and exiled. They have a deep sense of empathy for anyone who’s been wronged, and they see past our differences. They genuinely want you to feel welcome.”

As the evening wore on, your fathers continued to make Minthara feel like a part of the family. They included her in conversations, invited her to join in family traditions, and even showed her some of their favorite recipes, explaining them with great enthusiasm.

By the end of the night, Minthara was visibly more relaxed. She had come to terms with the fact that your fathers were not only accepting but incredibly supportive. She found herself enjoying the evening, feeling a sense of belonging that she had not anticipated.

As the night drew to a close and you all said your goodbyes, Minthara pulled you aside, her eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and confusion. “I didn’t know what to expect, but they’ve been wonderful. I feel… I don’t know how to explain it. I feel like I’ve been given a chance I didn’t think I’d ever have.”

You gently squeezed her hand, your heart swelling with affection. “I’m glad they could show you that kindness. You deserve to feel welcomed and loved.”

Minthara smiled, her gaze softening as she looked at you. “Thank you for bringing me here. I didn’t know I could find this kind of acceptance. It means more to me than I can say.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

You and Lae'zel approached the small, secluded home where your parents lived. The quiet serenity of the surroundings was in stark contrast to the chaotic and tumultuous world that Lae'zel was accustomed to. Your heart pounded with a mixture of excitement and nervousness; this was the moment when Lae'zel would meet the parents who had rescued you from the harsh confines of the creche.

You had often spoken of your parents' pacifist and spiritual beliefs, but you knew that experiencing them firsthand might be a shock for someone as battle-hardened as Lae'zel. The journey had been long, but the sight of your parents' humble dwelling at the end of the path was both comforting and reassuring. You took a deep breath and gave Lae'zel a reassuring glance.

As you approached the door, you could hear the gentle strains of a melodic chant, a common practice in your parents’ daily rituals. You knocked softly, and after a moment, the door creaked open to reveal your mother, her face illuminated with a warm, welcoming smile.

“Welcome, dear one,” she said, her voice soft and soothing as she bowed to Lae'zel “You must be Lae'zel. I am so pleased to meet you.”

Lae'zel, always one for directness and formality, gave a respectful nod, her eyes scanning the peaceful surroundings with curiosity.

“Greetings,” she replied, her tone slightly reserved. Not entirely sure what to make of the Githyanki, she was covered in crystal necklaces and patterned robes - she had never seen a monk like this, if they were even monks.

Your mother stepped aside to let you and Lae'zel into the house. Inside, the space was filled with calming colors, soft lighting, and an array of spiritual symbols, incense and artifacts. The atmosphere was imbued with a sense of tranquility that seemed almost otherworldly compared to the harsh realities of the Githyanki creche.

Your father, who had been meditating in a corner, stood up and approached with a gentle smile. His presence was calm and serene, embodying the spiritual essence that defined your upbringing.

“Welcome, Lae'zel,” he said, extending a bow in greeting. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Lae'zel bowed firmly but with a hint of confusion in her eyes. She observed the peaceful surroundings and the serene demeanor of your parents, trying to reconcile it with the chaotic and violent nature of their offspring.

As you and Lae'zel settled into the cozy sitting area, your mother offered tea and various calming herbs. The conversation began slowly, with your parents asking Lae'zel about her experiences and interests, their curiosity genuine and untainted by judgment.

“So, Lae'zel,” your mother began gently, “what is it that you cherish most about your travels and experiences?”

Lae'zel, momentarily taken aback by the question, responded with cautious enthusiasm. “I value strength and discipline. My experiences in battle have shaped me into who I am today.”

Your father nodded thoughtfully. “Strength is indeed an important aspect of life. However, it is also crucial to find balance and peace within oneself. We believe that the universe guides us, and our actions shape our karma.”

Lae'zel listened with a mixture of intrigue and skepticism. “I understand the importance of balance, but my path has always been one of combat and survival. It is difficult to see how such ideals would fit into that world.”

You could see the slight discomfort in Lae'zel’s posture as she struggled to understand the philosophical approach of your parents.

After a moment, she turned to you with a questioning glance. “How did such calm and spiritual individuals produce someone as…”

“Violent and chaotic?” you finished, smiling wryly. “I’ve often wondered the same thing.”

Your mother laughed softly, a melodic sound that seemed to fill the room with warmth. “Our beliefs guided us to raise you with compassion and understanding, but we also recognize that each individual’s path is unique. We honor the journey you have undertaken, even if it diverges from our own.”

Your father added, his voice gentle but firm, “Everyone’s path is a reflection of their soul’s journey. The balance you seek and the battles you fight are all part of the cosmic dance. We accept and love you for who you are, as we do with Lae'zel.”

Lae'zel’s eyes softened as she absorbed their words. The realization that your parents held no ill will or judgment toward her, despite their vastly different beliefs, began to ease her confusion.

“Thank you for your acceptance,” she said, her voice more genuine and appreciative. “It is rare to find such kindness and openness in this world.”

Your mother placed a hand on Lae'zel’s shoulder, her touch light but filled with warmth. “We are grateful to have you here. Our love for our child extends to those who are important to them.”

As the evening wore on, the conversation flowed more naturally. Lae'zel’s initial reservations began to dissolve as she shared stories of her own experiences, and your parents listened with genuine interest and respect. The harmonious blend of your parents' spiritual wisdom and Lae'zel’s battle-hardened tales created a unique and memorable evening.

By the end of the night, Lae'zel’s initial confusion had transformed into a deep appreciation for your parents' way of life. The evening had been a bridge between two worlds, united by love and mutual respect. As you and Lae'zel prepared to leave, you felt a profound sense of contentment, knowing that your parents had embraced your lover with the same unconditional love that had guided them throughout their lives.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

The gentle hum of the forest surrounded you as you and Shadowheart approached your family’s home, nestled among the ancient trees. The sun had begun its descent, casting a warm, golden light through the canopy. You had often spoken of your mothers—druids with a profound connection to nature and a loving, albeit occasionally overwhelming, tendency to fuss over you. Today, Shadowheart would finally... experience them.

Your heart fluttered with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. You were eager for Shadowheart to meet your family, but you also knew that your mothers’ affectionate, maternal instincts could be a bit overwhelming for someone not accustomed to such a display of love.

As you reached the clearing where your family’s home stood, a quaint and cozy cottage adorned with flowering vines and wooden carvings, you could already hear the soft murmur of your mothers’ voices. You knocked on the door, and it swung open almost immediately. There stood your mothers, their faces lighting up with joy upon seeing you.

“There you are, darling!” your mother called out, her voice warm and welcoming. She pulled you into a tight embrace, her touch familiar and comforting. “We’ve been waiting for you!”

Your other mother, her face alight with a gentle smile, stepped forward and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

“And who might this be?” she asked, her eyes twinkling with curiosity as she looked at Shadowheart. You stepped aside to reveal Shadowheart, who stood with a mixture of nervousness and resolve.

“This is Shadowheart,” you said, gesturing to your lover. “Shadowheart, these are my mothers.”

Shadowheart offered a polite smile, her demeanor a mix of elegance and curiosity. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

Your mothers’ eyes widened with delight. “Oh, what a lovely name! We’re so pleased to finally meet you!” your first mother said, her excitement evident in her voice. “Come in, come in! We’ve prepared a feast.”

As Shadowheart stepped into the home, she was immediately enveloped by the warmth and coziness of the space. The interior was decorated with nature-inspired motifs—wooden carvings, leafy tapestries, and the fragrant aroma of herbs and freshly baked bread.

The fussing began almost immediately. Your mothers led Shadowheart to the table, showering her with compliments and offering her a seat as if she were the guest of honor.

“You must be exhausted from your travels,” your second mother said, placing a plate of food in front of Shadowheart. “Please, help yourself to anything you like.”

Shadowheart chuckled softly, a genuine smile gracing her lips as she accepted the plate. “Thank you. I appreciate the warm welcome.”

Your mothers were not done yet. They hovered around Shadowheart, ensuring that her glass was always full, her plate was never empty, and that she was comfortable at all times. Their attentive care was met with Shadowheart’s amusement, her eyes twinkling with a mix of gratitude and mild surprise.

“It’s quite a spread you’ve prepared,” Shadowheart remarked, glancing around at the abundance of food. “You really didn’t need to go to such lengths.”

“Oh, but we wanted to!” your first mother replied, her eyes sparkling. “We’ve heard so much about you and couldn’t wait to meet the person who has brought so much joy to our dear child.”

As the evening progressed, the fussing continued. Your mothers insisted on telling Shadowheart stories about you as a child—stories that, while endearing, made you blush and roll your eyes in playful embarrassment. Shadowheart found the tales amusing, laughing and teasing you gently.

“You were quite the handful, weren’t you?” Shadowheart teased, her eyes glinting with amusement. “I can see where you get your spirit from.”

You playfully nudged her, a grin spreading across your face. “Oh, you have no idea.”

The evening was filled with laughter and warmth. Your mothers, having taken a liking to Shadowheart almost instantly, treated her as if she were their own. They were thoroughly enchanted by her grace, her charm, and the way she fit seamlessly into their home.

When the night drew to a close, and Shadowheart prepared to leave, your mothers insisted on packing a basket full of homemade goodies for the road.

“You must come back soon,” your first mother said, handing Shadowheart the basket with a loving smile. “We’d love to have you over again.”

“You’re always welcome here,” your second mother added, giving Shadowheart a warm hug. “We’re so happy to have met you.”

As you and Shadowheart left, you couldn’t help but notice the genuine affection and admiration your mothers had for her. Shadowheart, too, seemed touched by the experience, her smile reflecting the warmth and acceptance she had received.

As you walked hand in hand under the stars, you turned to Shadowheart. “How did you find it?”

Shadowheart’s eyes were soft, her expression reflecting a contentment that spoke volumes.

“They’re wonderful,” she said, her voice filled with warmth. “I can see why you cherish them so much.”

You squeezed her hand gently, feeling a deep sense of gratitude. “I’m glad you think so. They really do have a way of making everyone feel loved and welcome.”

Shadowheart nodded, her smile widening. “It’s easy to see why they adore you. You’re a reflection of their kindness and warmth.”

With that, the two of you continued your walk, feeling closer than ever, united not only by your love but also by the acceptance and affection you had both received from your family.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

The grand estate of your parents was a marvel of elegance and opulence, nestled amidst well-manicured gardens and towering oak trees. As you and Gale approached the massive, ornate front door, you couldn’t help but notice the intricate detailing of the architecture and the luxurious surroundings. This was the world you had grown up in—a world of magic, wealth, and intellectual pursuit.

Gale, ever the inquisitive sage, was visibly awed by the grandeur. He looked around with wide eyes, taking in the sprawling grounds and the elaborate facade of the estate. As you approached the entrance, the door swung open to reveal a well-dressed butler.

“Welcome,” the butler said with a polished, professional demeanor. Gale’s eyes widened further as he greeted the servant with an enthusiastic nod.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, finally! I can see where Y/N gets their looks from,” Gale said, his voice tinged with excitement and charm. “I’ve read so much about this place! The magical academies you must have attended—”

The butler raised an eyebrow, a slight smile playing at his lips. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken, sir. I am not one of Miss Y/N's parents. Allow me to show you in.”

Gale followed the butler inside, his excitement only slightly dampened by the wave of embarrasment he felt. The opulent interior of the estate was even more impressive up close. Rich tapestries, towering bookshelves, and gleaming chandeliers adorned every room.

The butler led you and Gale through a series of grand hallways until you reached the study—a room filled with arcane artifacts, ancient tomes, and an atmosphere of scholarly pursuit. There, seated behind an impressive mahogany desk, were your parents.

Your father, with his silver hair and scholarly robes, was immersed in a complex magical manuscript, while your mother, with her elegant demeanor and keen eyes, was sorting through a collection of rare magical artifacts.

“Mother, Father,” you began, your voice tinged with both pride and nerves, “this is Gale, my partner. Gale, these are my parents.”

Your parents looked up from their studies, their expressions lighting up with genuine warmth and interest. Your father, setting aside his manuscript, extended a hand to Gale. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Gale. I’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

Gale shook your father’s hand with enthusiasm, clearly impressed. “The pleasure is mine. Your home is magnificent, and the magical artifacts—well, I can’t even begin to describe how fascinated I am!”

Your mother stepped forward, her eyes sparkling with interest. “We’re delighted to finally meet you, Gale. We’ve heard so much about your own magical pursuits.”

As the evening progressed, Gale’s excitement became evident. He eagerly asked questions about the various magical artifacts displayed around the study, and your parents responded with equal enthusiasm. Their conversation was a blend of scholarly debate, magical theories, and tales of past discoveries.

Gale’s fascination with your parents’ work was palpable. He peppered them with questions, discussing magical theories and historical discoveries with a fervor that only someone deeply passionate about magic could muster. Your parents were equally absorbed, clearly enjoying the lively exchange of ideas.

“I’ve always wanted to study the intersection of elemental magic and arcane rituals,” Gale said animatedly, gesturing towards a particularly rare artifact. “How did you come across this?”

Your father launched into a detailed explanation, clearly delighted by Gale’s keen interest. Your mother joined in, adding her own insights and anecdotes. The conversation flowed seamlessly, and Gale’s eagerness to learn was met with genuine enthusiasm from your parents.

As the night wore on, the conversation showed no sign of slowing down. Your parents continued to engage Gale, showing him their latest magical experiments and inviting him to delve into their extensive library. The scholarly exchange was so engrossing that you found yourself on the periphery, watching with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

Eventually, it became clear that Gale was completely absorbed in the discussion. Your parents, captivated by his curiosity and knowledge, had no intention of ending the evening anytime soon. You, on the other hand, knew it was getting late and that you needed to move on.

With a mixture of laughter and determination, you approached Gale, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. “Gale, dear, I think it’s time for us to head home.”

Gale looked up, slightly dazed but still buzzing with excitement. “Oh, already? I haven’t even scratched the surface of the library yet.”

Your parents, catching the hint, smiled sympathetically. “We’ve enjoyed having you, Gale. You’re always welcome here. Your enthusiasm and knowledge have been a breath of fresh air.”

Gale beamed, clearly pleased with the reception he had received. “Thank you, I’ve learned so much tonight. I look forward to our next meeting.”

You guided Gale towards the door, the evening’s scholarly discussion still lingering in his mind. As you stepped out into the cool night air, Gale’s excitement was palpable.

“That was incredible,” he said, his eyes alight with enthusiasm. “Your parents are amazing. I could talk with them for hours.”

You smiled, feeling a mix of pride and amusement. “I’m simply glad that you enjoyed yourself. ”

As you walked hand in hand, you could still see the gleam of excitement in Gale’s eyes. The evening had not only strengthened his connection with your parents but had also deepened your appreciation for the intellectual curiosity and warmth that they had so effortlessly shared.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

The grand estate of your high elf mother was a testament to centuries of noble lineage and refined taste as much as you tried to hide it. As you approached the entrance with Astarion by your side, the opulence of the place was unmistakable as was his excitement: towering columns, intricate carvings, and gardens that seemed to bloom with an otherworldly elegance.

You had warned your lover that your mother was very particular about appearances and had a deep-seated appreciation for high elven nobility. You knew it may hit a chord with Astarion considering he could not remember his family. Yet, you hoped that perhaps the favourable opulence your mother provided would be a balm to him.

When the door was opened by a distinguished servant, you were greeted by the sight of your mother standing in the grand foyer. She was the epitome of high elven grace, with her silver hair elegantly styled and her attire reflecting the nobility she held so dear. Her eyes, though sharp and discerning, softened as they fell on you.

“There you are, my dear!” she exclaimed, her voice musical and filled with affection. She swept forward to embrace you. “I’ve been eagerly awaiting your visit.”

You smiled, returning her embrace. “Hello, Mother. I’d like you to meet Astarion, my partner.”

Your mother’s gaze shifted to Astarion, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took him in. Her sharp eyes caught every detail, and what she immediately saw was potential.

“Ah, Astarion,” she said with a smile. “A pleasure to meet you.”

Astarion gave a graceful bow, his own expression a blend of charm and curiosity. “The pleasure is mine, Mi'lady. Your home is as magnificent as I’d imagined.”

As you and Astarion followed your mother into the main sitting room, the conversation turned to more personal matters. Your mother’s gaze was fixed on you, and you could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she took in your appearance. Her tone, though gentle, carried an undertone of reproach.

“My dear,” she began, her eyes softening only slightly. “I must say, I wish you would carry yourself more like the noble you are. You have such stunning jewelry and robes that you never wear, and yet you choose to dress in these ragged outfits. Why?”

You sighed, recognizing the familiar note in her voice. “Mother, you know I��m not one for formalities and fineries.”

Astarion, who had been observing the exchange with growing interest, found himself in a curious position. He had often made similar comments, and now, seeing your mother’s concern mirrored his own, he couldn’t help but agree.

“You know,” Astarion said, his voice smooth and diplomatic, “your mother makes a valid point. I’ve often thought that such beautiful jewelry would be more fitting for someone of your stature, my love.”

Your mother’s eyes lit up at Astarion’s agreement. “Oh, wonderful! You see, Astarion understands. He has such exquisite taste. Perhaps you should take a leaf out of his book.” Before you could protest, your mother clapped her hands with excitement. “I’ve actually arranged for a tailor to come in today to create some outfits for you, my dear. But clearly, it would be wasted on you if you don’t care for such things. Astarion, come with me. Let’s get you properly fitted.”

Astarion, caught between delight and surprise, found himself being gently but firmly escorted by your mother towards the designated fitting room.

“Oh, this is going to be a treat,” Astarion said, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’ve always enjoyed the finer things.”

As your mother guided him away, she called back over her shoulder, “I’m so glad my child has chosen someone with such impeccable taste. I’m sure you’ll look splendid.”

Left alone in the sitting room, you couldn’t help but chuckle at the turn of events. Your mother’s unabashed enthusiasm for fashion was well-known, but it was amusing to see Astarion so willingly swept up in her plans.

When Astarion finally returned, impeccably dressed in one of the tailored outfits, he was a picture of elegance and refinement. Your mother beamed with pride at her handiwork, while Astarion struck a pose with a grin.

“There,” Astarion said, his eyes sparkling with satisfaction. “I must admit, your mother’s taste is impeccable.”

You smiled, both amused and touched by the way your mother had embraced Astarion. It was clear that she had taken an immediate liking to him and had found joy in seeing him embrace the world of high elven nobility.

“Thank you, Mother,” you said, your tone filled with genuine gratitude. “I’m glad you like him.”

Your mother smiled warmly, her eyes twinkling with contentment. “Of course, dear. It’s always wonderful to see someone who appreciates the finer things in life and of course loves you so dearly.”

As the evening progressed, you felt a renewed sense of connection with both your mother and Astarion. Their mutual appreciation for elegance and refinement had created a bond that bridged the gap between your world and Astarion’s. And as you watched them converse animatedly, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment knowing that your worlds had come together in such a delightful way.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

You arrived at the quaint, country home where your older siblings lived, a place that held countless memories of your childhood. Your siblings, though somewhat overprotective, had always been your steadfast support, especially after they had taken you in and raised you as their own. They had shaped your upbringing with love and a strong sense of family, which had molded you into the person you were today. Now, it was time for them to meet Wyll, your partner.

As you pulled up to the house, you could see your siblings through the window, busying themselves with preparations for your visit. The scent of home-cooked food wafted through the air, mingling with the crisp scent of autumn leaves. Your heart swelled with nostalgia and anticipation.

Wyll, ever charming and confident, stepped out of the carriage beside you. His eyes took in the serene surroundings with interest, and he gave you a reassuring smile. “Ready?” he asked, a hint of excitement in his voice.

You nodded, squeezing his hand gently. “Absolutely. They’re going to love you.”

You approached the front door, and before you could knock, it swung open. Your elder sister, always the more practical and warm-hearted of the two, greeted you with a beaming smile.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, enveloping you in a hearty embrace. “It’s so good to see you!”

Your brother, equally protective but with a more reserved demeanor, stood just behind her, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in Wyll.

“And who’s this?” he asked, his tone cautious but curious.

“This is Wyll,” you said, stepping aside to introduce him. “Wyll, this is my older sister and my brother. They’ve been like parents to me.”

Wyll stepped forward with his usual grace, offering a polite bow. “A pleasure to meet you both. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Your sister’s eyes lit up with immediate warmth. “Oh, please, come in! We’ve prepared some food. I hope you’re hungry.”

As Wyll followed you inside, your brother’s keen eyes studied him with careful scrutiny.

“So, you’re the one who’s captured our sibling’s heart,” he said, his tone measured but not unkind.

Wyll met his gaze steadily, a hint of his trademark charm in his smile. “I certainly hope so. As I’m very much in love with them.”

The evening unfolded with laughter and lively conversation. Your siblings, despite their initial wariness, soon found themselves charmed by Wyll’s easy demeanor and genuine kindness. Wyll regaled them with tales of his adventures, always careful to include stories that highlighted his respect for you and his deep feelings for you.

During dinner, your sister took the opportunity to fuss over Wyll, ensuring he had more than enough to eat and frequently checking if he needed anything.

“Here, try this,” she said, placing a heaping serving of her special casserole on his plate. “It’s one of our family’s favorites.”

Wyll graciously accepted the food, clearly appreciative of the effort and care that had gone into preparing it.

“This is delicious,” he said, his eyes bright with genuine praise. “You have a real talent for cooking.”

Your brother, having observed Wyll’s interactions with you and his appreciative attitude towards your family, began to warm up. He joined in the conversation, sharing stories of his own and laughing heartily at Wyll’s humor.

“You know,” he said, his tone more relaxed, “you’re quite a character. I can see why our sibling is so taken with you.”

As the evening drew to a close, your siblings were more than satisfied with their impressions of Wyll. They had taken him into their fold with the same protective and loving care they had always extended to you. Your sister, in particular, couldn’t resist offering some parting words of advice.

“Take care of them,” she said, her tone both serious and affectionate. “They mean the world to us.”

Wyll nodded, his expression sincere. “I promise, I will.”

Your brother, now visibly more at ease, clapped Wyll on the back. “And if you ever need anything, you know where to find us.”

As you and Wyll left the house, you felt a deep sense of contentment. The evening had been a success, and you were glad to see that your siblings had welcomed Wyll into the family with open arms. The bond between you and your partner had only grown stronger, fortified by the acceptance and affection of those you held dear.

Wyll took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “That went better than I could have hoped,” he said with a relieved smile. “Your family is wonderful.”

You smiled back, feeling a warm glow of happiness. “I’m glad they like you. They’re a big part of my life, and it means a lot to me that they’ve embraced you.”

Together, you walked into the evening, your hearts light and your spirits high, knowing that your relationship had the support and approval of the people who had shaped your life.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

Bringing Halsin home to meet your sisters was something you had been both excited and a little anxious about. Your sisters had raised you with all the fierce love and protectiveness of true guardians, always looking out for you and making sure you were safe. They had been through thick and thin with you, and naturally, they were very cautious when it came to the people you brought into your life. Their approval meant the world to you, and you knew they wouldn’t let anyone into the family without a thorough vetting.

As you approached the cozy cottage where your sisters lived, nestled in a lush forest clearing, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nerves. Halsin, ever the calm and collected druid, walked beside you, his presence a steadying force. He noticed your unease and placed a reassuring hand on your back, giving you a warm smile.

"Everything will be alright," he said gently. "Your sisters care about you deeply. I understand their need to ensure I am worthy of your trust."

You nodded, grateful for his understanding, but knowing just how intense your sisters could be. As you reached the front door, you could already hear the familiar sounds of their voices from within, chatting and laughing as they prepared for your arrival. The moment you knocked, the door swung open, revealing your eldest sister. Her eyes immediately landed on Halsin, and she gave him a scrutinizing look before turning to you with a smile.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug. "We’ve been waiting for you."

Your other sisters quickly joined, each of them hugging you and then turning their attention to Halsin, their expressions a mix of curiosity and thinly veiled protectiveness. They exchanged glances before the eldest spoke up.

"And this must be Halsin," she said, her tone polite but with a hint of challenge. "We’ve heard so much about you."

Halsin inclined his head in a respectful nod. "It’s an honor to finally meet the people who have cared for my beloved so well."

Your sisters ushered you both inside, but it wasn’t long before they began their gentle yet probing interrogation. They gathered around Halsin, questions flying from all directions, their protectiveness on full display.

"So, Halsin," your second sister began, her arms crossed as she leaned against the kitchen counter. "Tell us about yourself. How did you meet our dear sibling?"

"And what exactly are your intentions?" another sister chimed in, her tone light but with an edge of seriousness.

"Do you truly understand how special they are?" the youngest asked, her eyes narrowing slightly as she looked Halsin up and down.

You felt a flush of embarrassment as they continued to press him, despite your attempts to intervene.

"Come on, give him a break!" you protested, trying to pull Halsin away from their inquisition. "He’s not on trial!"

But Halsin remained unfazed, meeting each question with calm and sincere answers. He spoke about how you had met, how your connection had grown, and how deeply he cared for you. His tone was warm, his words thoughtful, and he never once appeared flustered or defensive. Instead, he seemed to understand exactly why your sisters were behaving this way, and he respected their desire to protect you.

"My intentions," Halsin said, turning to the sister who had asked, "are to cherish and support them in every way I can. Your sibling is incredibly special to me, and I am committed to walking alongside them, no matter where our paths may lead."

Your sisters exchanged glances, clearly impressed by his responses. The atmosphere began to shift, their initial wariness melting into acceptance. They began to relax around him, and soon the conversation turned to lighter topics.

As the evening wore on, your sisters found themselves drawn to Halsin’s kind and wise nature. He shared stories of his druidic practices, his connection to nature, and his adventures in the wilds. They laughed at his tales of animals he had encountered and listened intently to his insights on the natural world. His deep respect for life and his gentle demeanor resonated with them, and before long, they were no longer interrogating him, but enjoying his company as if he had always been a part of the family.

By the end of the night, your sisters were completely won over. They were chatting and laughing with Halsin, offering him second helpings of dessert and even sharing embarrassing stories about you from your childhood. The transition from skepticism to acceptance had been so seamless that it was hard to believe they had ever been anything but welcoming.

As you and Halsin prepared to leave, your eldest sister pulled you aside, a soft smile on her face. "You’ve chosen well," she said, her voice full of approval. "He’s a good man. We’re happy for you."

You felt a wave of relief and happiness wash over you, knowing that your sisters had accepted Halsin so fully. When you turned back to him, he was chatting with your other sisters, all of them smiling and at ease.

As you finally left the cottage, your hand in Halsin’s, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment. Halsin had faced the scrutiny of your overprotective sisters with grace and patience, and in the end, he had won them over completely. You knew that bringing him into your family had been the right decision, and you were filled with gratitude for the love and acceptance that now surrounded you both.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

okay I know I didn't add jaheira, rolan and raphael, fans you are allowed to come at me but I just kept hitting a block when I tried to write it for them, so instead of giving you something bad I gave you nothing at all. This is my formal apology.

Apart from that, hope you guys enjoyed it ! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

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partycatty · 8 months

Note

Hello :) please could I request love at first sight headcanons for Kenshi, Syzoth, Johnny and Liu Kang 💙💙

ofcccc love

kenshi, syzoth, johnny, liu kang > love at first sight

uh oh, the boys are smitten ;))

notes: you're a monk/trainer/idfk at the wu shi academy, so that's where they meet you for the first time! also pretend syzoth didnt have a wife and kids up until like 30 minutes before u guys meet LMFAOMFOMAF

masterlist <3

♡

kenshi >

kenshi kept mostly to himself, given his motivations for fighting in the tournament in the first place. of course, he'd get into the occasional spitting match with the actor that held his sword hostage as well. but something about you made his work feel unimportant.

he wouldn't make himself known to you for quite some time, but he caught your eye during the introductions when he arrived at the academy. you stood beside liu kang as his second in command, posture perfect and eyes forward. you were a trained individual, and kenshi couldn't help but be fully enamored.

you embodied everything kenshi aspired to be, and he was torn between wishing you two would spend more time together, to wishing you'd kick the shit out of him. maybe both?

"i come requesting for a sparring partner," kenshi explains, eyes transfixed on your perfect form. he had to avert his gaze to the ground as he bowed, lest he fall victim to your beauty. "i was hoping for some advice and feedback."

you agree, considering it's your job. and so, you begin setting up the environment for a spar. the floor is cleared and you roll up your sleeves, taking your personal fighting stance. kenshi almost forgot to ready himself when you charged at him.

you were objectively a better fighter than him, sword or otherwise. his blows were easily parried and his punches were matched with kicks. and sure, he had a crush now, but when you stood over him with your hands on your hips, something stronger blossomed. he felt his face become hot as he laid flat on his back between your legs.

then, he smirked with a newfound confidence. now or never, tattoo.

"perhaps we should spar more often, if this is the outcome," he'd slyly remark.

his comment earned him a week of scrubbing floors, but he doesn't regret it, no matter how hard johnny and lao pointed and laughed. and neither do you.

♡

syzoth >

he fought like hell to get out of outworld, freed from the shackles of shang tsung's imprisonment. when the portal behind everyone closed, syzoth stood awkwardly alongside ashrah behind the earthrealmers.

"meet the newest players of earthrealm," johnny introduces them to liu kang, though he is already familiar with their existence. he created them, after all.

"syzoth, ashrah, please," liu kang gestures for them to follow him. he needed intel on the situation, and fast. something sinister was brewing.

he leads them into a large room decorated with hourglasses and dragon statues. tables with scattered scrolls, maps, and figurines litter the room. this must be liu kang's workspace.

as syzoth enters the spacious room, he is marveled at the intricacy of the designs. what captures his attention quicker, though, was you. you were sitting in a distant chair, standing upon the group's arrival and taking your spot beside liu kang.

"this is my trusted assistant," liu kang introduces you, and you bow to them respectfully. "please inform them of any useful information regarding shang tsung."

syzoth feels as if life slows down, and his cold blood send a shiver down his spine. his face flushes with a greenish tint, and he already finds himself impossibly infatuated with your appearance. you remind him of an ancient statue, how your beauty deserves to be preserved for all to appreciate. but at the same time, he feels a strong desire to keep you to himself.

you sit across from the zaterran, briefly introducing yourself before diving into the questioning. syzoth, however, can't seem to focus on your words, only your plush lips.

"syzoth," you say, trying to regain his attention that is obviously diverted. "tell me how you fell into shang tsung's imprisonment."

syzoth tries so hard to spill the entire timeline, but his words stumble over each other every time he looks up at you. your eyes are so warm, so inviting, so perfect. he's flustered incredibly quickly. it's so obvious that even ashrah playfully rolls her eyes from a distance.

you make him nervous, and that's really cute.

♡

johnny >

johnny walks through the portal with new his fellow chosen ones, taking in the view of the academy. he tunnel visions hard, only focusing on getting adequate information using his phone. that is, until he pans over to the group of monks awaiting his arrival. he stops on you, shamelessly zooming in to get a good view of your face.

"didn't know monks could be so sexy," he'd call out with a smirk, not even putting his phone down for a single second to admire you in person. it's only when kenshi shoves his arm downward that he actually gets a good look at you.

his playboy jokes would die down when he neared you as it was replaced with a warm obsession. you were drop-dead gorgeous. he could score you some roles in movies, you could be the face of perfumes across the globe!

what he felt wasn't like hollywood infatuation. he wanted to know more than what you hid under your robes, which was relatively new to him. he felt the need to grow and change to earn your praise.

he felt little to no shame about this realization. every chance he could, it was an offer to dinner, an offer to visit his sleeping quarters, or him casually dropping he'll be in the secluded hot springs after training, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you heard him.

johnny would make a clear effort to somehow always be in your way, forcing you to interact with him. he'd insist on cleaning your dishes, always be first up for demonstrations, and just so happened to memorize your schedule and "accidentally" bump into you on the gravel paths. it was so abundantly obvious that this man was head over heels, it was kind of embarrassing.

you didn't entertain the actor, honestly. it's not that you didn't like him, it was that he'd A) flirt with a vase if it had nice curves, and B) your duties were more important than a celebrity. or at least, you forced yourself to believe it.

"come on baby, surely you're wondering what kind of punch a hollywood actor packs."

"in your dreams, cage," you'd reply with a smile, knowing damn well you want to take him up on his offer later.

♡

liu kang >

he swore to never get entangled with mortals, not after what happened - or rather, didn't happen - with kitana.

liu kang grows out of this infatuation after eons of busywork and dedicates himself to the stability of the timeline. nothing could distract him from his duties.

that is, until he met the New Era you. you were a relatively insignificant part in his life prior to the timeline reset, so he never paid much attention to you or knew you existed. but, this time around, liu kang took some creative liberties and decided to give you a more significant purpose. what he didn't do was see you before this moment.

he was discussing important matters with geras at the wu shi academy, mind only focused on the importance of the hourglass and the absurdity of recent events revolving a somehow resurrected titan. as he circles the sandy display, he glances through the vision and realizes you, one of the monks, is standing in the doorway with seemingly important knowledge to deliver.

liu kang feels his heart flutter, and he places his hand on his chest in mild surprise. his face remains stoic and expressionless, but it's clear that something winded him. geras glances over at the fire god with a knowing look.

"lord liu kang," you say with a quick bow, and liu kang makes a mental note to himself that he may or may not be into titles. "i come bearing news regarding the chosen ones."

liu kang stands there, his bright eyes totally unreadable. his lips open and close, and his tattoos flicker. he doesn't realize just how long he'd been staring and lost in thought. your beauty reminded him of the universe he painted, so elegant and full of life. he doesn't know how he didn't notice you sooner. to him, you were everything he wanted to be right in the world with your gentle features and kind voice.

geras waves a hand in front of him, making him blink and snap back into reality. he clears his throat.

"yes, yes, please," liu kang suddenly adopts a warm, loving tone, one that's more caring than his usual godly silky voice. his old personality shines through, the charming pretty boy attitude he swore to abandon eons ago. "you may enter, my dear. some tea?"

geras makes the observation that he's sweeter to you than most others, but he's going to keep that to himself. for now, he just watches with mild amusement as liu kang prepares a small cup of matcha for you with a smile that travels into his glowing eyes. he witnessed that look before, when he'd see his kitana. but this was new, this was something that could be beautiful if he let himself try.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #mk1 #johnny cage x reader #syzoth x reader #syzoth #liu kang x reader #liu kang #kenshi takahashi x reader #kenshi takahashi #marley writes ☆

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thought--bubble · 2 months

Text

When he Breaks

Modern Aemond X (ex GF) reader

Word Count: 3,098

Note* This was written for @targaryen-dynasty's 3K celebration! (Congratulations my love you deserve it all!)

Modern Aemond Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Dividers and banners by @arcielee

Warnings:Toxic relationship dynamics, alcohol use, swearing, smut (fingering female receiving)

Four months should have been enough time. Should have been enough time to completely move on from the two-year whirlwind that was your relationship with the ever-elusive Aemond Targaryen.

Your relationship with Aemond Targaryen was difficult to put it mildly. You had tried. Really tried to make it work, but like with most things, there comes a time when things have simply run their course.

Aemond could be sweet, yet mostly, he was cold, closed off, and angry.

Aemond does not simply feel angry. He embodies anger. With each step he takes, he carries it around with him, like a festering wound he refuses to treat lest he forget the injustices he has suffered.

The smallest things could set him off, a harmless joke from his brother or his nephew simply breathing the same air.

the issue between him and his nephew, Luke, was simple enough to understand. You always thought it so tragic how an unfortunate childhood accident could tear a family apart at the seams. The accident had left Aemond blind in one eye, and as far as Aemond saw it, no one had ever paid for it. No one ever suffered for it, no one but Aemond that is.

His hate and anger ruled his life. It seeped into every facet of his being. Even being his girlfriend was not a shield from his rage.

This anger would come to a head when he ruined his father's birthday celebration, potentially the last one his sick ailing father would have. When he stood up and gave a toast insulting his nephews and calling his sister a whore, albeit using a roundabout way to say it. The ensuing physical altercation between Aemond and his other nephew, Jace, had been the final straw for you. No more would you live with this angry man. This powder keg that is just waiting to explode, this dragon grinding his jaw and salivating at any chance to tear apart those he saw as his enemies.

So, when you showed up for Helaena's birthday, a house party, Aegon is throwing. You were concerned about seeing Aemond for the first time since your split. You were over him. At least that's what you told yourself, and you believed it.

Until you walked in to see him, sitting on the sofa, cigarette in hand, smile on his face, and an arm around Floris' shoulders.

Floris Baratheon, a sweet little thing. Not a cruel bone in her body. The absolute visceral response you had to the scene was unexpected, yet you made sure to control your facial expression. You could not let him see you vulnerable or weak.

Yes, you were done with Aemond. You no longer wanted Aemond, but you did not approve of him to move on. To have someone else.

As you watch him sitting with Floris from across the crowded room of Aegon's flat, you feel your anger bubbling up. Four months, and he was already flirting about with a simpleton like Floris Baratheon? Had you meant so little to him?

You jump slightly as Helaena sneaks up next to you as you lean against the breakfast bar, drink in hand.

Helaena has always had this uncanny ability to seemingly pop up out of nowhere, with words of wisdom or nonsense. It truly was luck of the draw.

"There is no need to fight for what you don't want, just because someone else may want it." She muses thoughtfully.

"I'm not fighting for anything," you snap back. "She wants to deal with all of that. She's welcome to him."

"Hmmm," the light hum of Helaena's voice, usually a soothing sound, grates on your nerves.

"The two of you are more alike than either of you realize."

Your head instantly whips to the side, your eyes narrowed. "We are nothing alike," you hiss through gritted teeth.

Helaena simply hums in response before grabbing herself a wine cooler off the counter. "I hope you find some way to enjoy the evening."

"Hey," you call out behind her as she starts to walk away.

She turns and looks at you, with nothing but softness in her lavender eyes.

"Happy Birthday" You give her a weak smile.

"It will be entertaining, at least," she says dreamily before gliding off to welcome more of her friends who had just arrived.

With Helaena's final words lingering in your head, you knock back the drink in your hand and place the empty cup back on the counter.

Revenge is Aemond's favorite pastime. An obsession you have berated him for time and time again, yet here you stand, watching his faux gentleness that he seems intent on displaying for the fawn of a girl that sits beside him and all you can feel is the hunger inside you, willing you to take a bite out of him, sating that need for revenge of your own.

Aemond looks over at you briefly before his eye flickers back to Floris, carrying on their quiet conversation, which, from what you could gather, looked more like Floris speaking incessantly and Aemond, with his false patience, listening intently, or at least pretending to.

"What are ya drinking ya tart!" Aegon slurs as he leans over the counter, mixing himself another drink.

"Had a whiskey, looking for something else, though." You let your words trail off as your eyes search the countertop.

When you finally find the bowl of cherries, you turn to Aegon and bat your lashes. "Make me a tart cherry? You were always the best at making them. " You offer him a sweet smile as you lean over the counter. The short black dress you have on hardly concealing your rear.

"Ahh! A tart for a tart!" Aegon chuckles as he starts to make the drink, spilling liqueur all about the countertop.

You roll your eyes, careful not to let Aegon see. He's an idiot, but tonight, you will make him a useful idiot because leading Aegon is as simple as being kind for a fleeting moment.

"I may just be a tart tonight," you chuckle suggestively, taking the drink from Aegon's hand, slowly sipping at the contents. You can question a lot of things about Aegon. Pretty much everything about Aegon. But not his ability to make a strong drink.

"Let's sit. Catch up. We haven't spoken in quite some time. " You take Aegon by the hand and drag him to the sofa situated directly across from Aemond and Floris before Aegon has any chance to object.

"Right! OK then!" Aegon plops down on the sofa, his drink sloshing over the sides of his cup.

You slowly lower yourself down beside him, careful to make sure your dress rides up your thigh just enough so that the thickest part of your thigh is exposed to both Aegon and Aemond's lecherous glares.

"So Aegon," you place your hand on his thigh, gently running your hand up and down in a soothing motion. "How have you been?"

Aegon doesn't even respond before you feel the burn of Aemond's steely eye burrowing into the side of your face.

Aegon looks down at your hand on his thigh briefly before a lazy smile spreads across his face. "Good, grand actually," he answers as he scoots closer to you.

This is going to be easier than you thought. You could always count on Aegon and his never-quenched thirst for physical affection.

When Aegon lowers his voice to a seductive growl as he explains what he has been up to since the last time you spoke, you tune him out.

Your main concern was your body movements, now that you know Aemond's eye is on you. He is a complex man yet, still just a man.

You cross one leg over the other, your short dress riding up just a tad bit higher. You work hard to conceal the grin that fights to spread across your face as you can hear Aemond across from you uncomfortably shifting in his seat.

"Hmmm," you feign interest as Aegon goes on about passing all of his classes at uni this semester. Something he is most proud of given the unlikelihood of such a feat.

You pluck one of the cherries floating around your drink and slide it slowly past your lips and suck on it. You have yet to spare Aemond a single glance but are fully aware that his eye hasn't left you since you sat down.

"You ummm really like that cherry?" Aegon asks with a mixture of amusement and lust.

"I do," you answer, your voice soft and slow.

"Are you gonna ummm... eat it? Or just uhhh suck on it?" Aegon shifts even closer with this question, leaving almost no space between you.

"It's so sweet.... and a bit tart.... I want to enjoy it fully before I toss it away" You pull the cherry part way from your mouth, circling the small fruit with your tongue before biting through it with your front teeth, the juices dripping down your lip to your chin.

"Fuuuuck," Aegon whispers, his eyes trained on the trail of cherry juice as it reaches your chin.

"Whoops" You collect the juice around your mouth with your fingertip before popping it in your mouth and sucking the juice off.

You can hear Floris babbling about something and find joy in the fact that Aemond has seemed to have stopped responding to her.

Aegon brings his hand to your thigh, squeezing at the flesh there.

"Wanna go outside? Smoke a fag? Just... you and me?"

You go to respond but are cut off by Aemond, who is suddenly choking on his drink loudly.

You finally look over at him, his purple eye a ring of fire. There's all that rage, all that anger, what had driven you away seemed so pretty now.

"Are you alright?" You ask with a tone that's smooth like butter.

Aegon laughs loudly. "Seems my brother has chosen a drink that is too strong for him. This is something he does often. Here Aemond, give me your drink. " Aegon holds his hand out to Aemond. "I will drink it; I am typically able to handle the things thar are too tough for you." Aegon's eyes flit to you on his last word, and you smile at him.

"Is that so? That's a good thing to know." You stand up slowly, placing your nearly empty cup down on the coffee table. "I'm going to run to the rest room and then I'll meet you outside for that fag."

"Smashing" Aegon rises from his seat as you turn your back and walk off toward the restroom, each step calculated to make sure you sway your hips just the way you know Aemond likes it.

When you're done in the bathroom, you open the door to make your way outside, but instead of the empty hallway you expected, Aemond is leaning in the doorway. His shoulder pressed against the wood frame, his blonde bangs covering his bad eye.

"Having a laugh, are ya?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.

"A laugh?" You feign complete ignorance. "Sure, I've had a laugh or two. It's been a lovely evening. " You flash him a sweet smile and then move to the side, attempting to walk around him.

"A lovely evening?" He places his hand on your chest, pushing you backward into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

"A lovely evening of flirting with my whore of a brother?" His voice is calm, not at all in sync with the tension of his shoulders as he towers over you.

"Well, that is an unkind thing to say. I was merely catching up with a friend." You push his arm from your chest, a movement with which he does not fight. "Who is currently waiting on me outside, so if you don't mind ..."

You again move to walk around him.

"I do, in fact, mind. Do you think this is a game? To tease me all night while using my idiot brother as a pawn?" He snarls, bringing his hands to your waist, his digits clenching around you.

"I have not teased you," you smirk at him. "If you would like me to tease you. ..." You stand on your tippy toes, bringing your lips to the shell of his ear. "I can certainly do that."

You watch with fascination as his skin prickles and his grip around your waist tightens. "Do not"

You smile knowing you have him now, that cold stoic man that is Aemond Targaryen is putty in your hands, and it hardly took any work at all.

You bring your lips to the softness of his neck, just close enough so that your warm breath skates across his skin. "Do not? Oh, Aemond, you sound so serious when you say it like that."

His breath hitches as you chuckle, your hands sliding under his shirt, your fingertips dancing across his toned stomach.

"You're playing a dangerous game, love," he hisses, his grip on your sides growing tighter, creating a pleasant ache.

"My favorite type of game." You run the tip of your nose up the side of his neck while your hands find purchase on the buttons of his expensive button-down shirt.

"Did I make you angry, my darling?" You ask, a teasing lilt to your tone as you slowly pop out button after button.

A sound comes from his chest, a sound somewhere between a growl and a chuckle, a sound that is completely Aemond. "And why should I be angry? Hmm?"

As you pop out the final button on his shirt, his hand slides into the base of your hair, gripping tight and pulling your head back. "A whore will do as a whore will do, there is nothing to be gained by being angry about it."

"A whore? Is that how you think of me now? A few simple months is all it took for your blood to turn to bile in my presence as well?"

You don't fight his grip. In fact, you crave it. He pushes you up against the sink vanity, lifting you up by your thigh, his other hand never leaving your hair.

"You left me, you betrayed me, like they all do," he nips along your jawline while grinding his hardness up against your heat.

"I left. I did not betray" you argue between pants. The friction of Aemond's movements against your heat, building a pressure in your lower stomach, a fire that gets slightly bigger with each rut.

"Same thing," he reaches under your dress, running his fingers over the damp cloth that is the only thing keeping his fingers from your heated flesh. "You don't want me, but you melt in my hands, like a dirty little whore."

A smile crosses your face, and you close your eyes as he slips his fingers underneath the flimsy cloth of your thong. Circling your nub with quick aggressive strokes.

"So quiet now? Where is that girl I know with the big mouth, hmm?"

You moan loudly as he slips two fingers into your slick entrance.

"Ahhh, there she is," Aemond begins rutting his fingers into you at a quick and brutal pace.

You try to lower your head back down. The need to feel his lips on yours feels like a burning ache.

"Oh no. You don't get to kiss me. No." He brings his thumb to your engorged clit while his fingers continue their relentless pace.

"Whores don't kiss me. They cum on my fingers, when I say so." He growls as he nibbles down the side of your throat, his hand not slowing its pace.

The heat that has been building in your stomach becomes all consuming, your legs involuntarily stretch further apart, and your mouth hangs open wide. "Aemond, Aemond," you pant, each stroke of his fingers bringing you closer and closer to that blissful edge.

"Begging for me again, what a beautiful sound. Cum for me little slut. Cum for me now." He nips on your ear and pushes his thumb down on your clit while continuing to rub his small, rough circles.

Your eyes remain on the bathroom ceiling as the mix of pleasure, heat, and even a little pain continue to rise rapidly with each of Aemond's movements.

"That's fuck... that's it" you dig your fingernails into the skin of his back as you are hit with an overwhelming wave of pleasure, numbness temporarily traveling from your toes and up your legs as if the only feeling your body was capable of registering at this time was this feeling.

He brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking his fingers clean, his one eye watching you intently as you finish riding out your high.

Without a word, he begins to button his shirt back up.

"So that's it then?" You ask frustrated at his cool and cold demeanor.

"Well, Floris is back on the sofa waiting for me and Aegon is waiting on you for that fag which...." he looks you up and down, a smug smile creeping onto his face " I assume you really do need now...."

The feeling of pleasure that had been swirling around your body is instantly replaced with a red-hot rage. "So, you return to Floris, and I return to Aegon?" You hop down from the vanity hastily fixing your clothes and patting down your hair.

You push past him, wrenching the bathroom door open to see Aegon in the hallway.

"Oh, sod off!" Aegon huffs in annoyance. "I knew you were using me to make him jealous. I just hoped he wouldn't go all Aemond on you before I actually got something out of it." He starts to stumble back down the hallway.

"Aegon, wait!" You begin to chase after him when Aemond grips your shoulder.

"Looks like your plans have fallen through."

You quickly shift out of his grasp. "Easy enough to make new plans."

"Go outside. Have your fag and I'll be there in 10 minutes" he says calmly walking past you back toward the living room.

"What?" You call out to his retreating form.

"I have to at least let Floris know I'm leaving. It's the polite thing to do after all."

"Leaving?" You ask incredulously.

Aemond sighs, turning back to look at you. "Yes, leaving. There is a heavier punishment you must suffer for your betrayal.... and I can't very well inflict that upon you in a fucking bathroom."

He turns away from you again, walking quickly. "Ten minutes, love. Give me ten minutes"

To be added to taglist click here

#modern aemond x reader #modern aemond #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell verse #aemond fanfiction #prince aemond targaryen #aemond smut #jess fics

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heaven4lostgirls · 6 months

Note

Can you pretty pleaaassse write for regulus black x reader angst

Where they were friends and got along really well and because they're both pureblooded there families arranged marriage for them. But then regulus gets paranoid and starts to think badly of you and thinks that you were only ever nice to him so that your parents would arrange marriage. And he thinks that you hold the same awful pureblood beliefs as both of your parents and he is afraid to say anything about it incase you tell his family that he doesn't really believe that muggles are lesser. Then regulus is quite distant and mean in your marriage and he eventually comes to his senses when he realises how upset you are and how much his distance hurts you and he can hear you crying yourself to sleep

pairing: regulus black x fem!reader

warning: angst, regulus is a bit of a dick but he comes around ! miscommunication (i’m sorry✊)

summary: request above

authors note: hi! sorry this took forever, i’m really bad at keeping up with requests but i hope you enjoy this, i always say im hoping to get back into writing but it’s always touch and go, my mental health isn’t great a lot of the time and uni just piles on so much more, hopefully you guys understand ! 🫶🩷

regulus wasn’t used to people sticking around, he had been abandoned by the only person he ever truly cared about and left to fend for himself. which was why he assumed when news of his engagement to you was announced by his parents, at a shared dinner party for the sacred 28, you two would simply…co-exist. never fully acknowledging the others presence yet acquaintances at best.

what a shock to his system it was when he grew to know what a wonderful person you were, never abrasive or hostile like his parents, never boastful like most of the pureblood families he knew, instead you were the embodiment of everything he never knew he wanted, a calm to the raging angst inside of him he couldn’t quell after sirius had left, and that alone left him scared more than any of his parents threats to present him to the dark lord as a servant.

you two had formed a quick friendship due to the circumstances surrounding your fast paced engagement, you were set to marry next august and your engagement had only been announced in april. regulus had no problem performing his duties to his family, however this one came with little to no reluctance from either of you as feelings of love and respect blossomed from the friendship you two shared.

however, as time passed, regulus could slowly but surely feel his walls he had fought so hard to build up, crack. he couldn’t fathom why someone like you would feel so comfortable around him, how you somehow managed to worm your way under his skin like no one ever could, not even sirius.

except as time flew by, he had somehow found some of that “gryffindor courage” as james potter always declared, to tell you about his feelings, emphasizing that if you wished, he would never bring up again if you did not reciprocate and you two would still move forward together into marriage as friends.

to his surprise, you were much more welcoming to his feelings than expected, you two had shared a small kiss as you leant your forehead against his and claimed “i was just waiting for you to see me.”

since you two were already a couple in the eyes of the public, the only people he had really had to tell was your shared friends. as expected, they all reacted joyfully to the news and you both carried through the rest of your year no longer pretending to be in love, but actually falling into it.

however, at the beginning of your 6th year, you could tell something had shifted between yours and regulus’ dynamic. no longer was he patient and comforting, instead he was judgmental and fast to anger. some part of you knew it had to do with his parents but you didn’t have the heart to push your questions onto him.

as time passed you watched as he distanced himself from you, pushing away your touches, rejecting your offers to hang out, blowing you off when he would eventually agree. you could only handle so much of his behavior before you eventually broke when telling your friends.

“i don’t know what to do anymore, it’s like walking on eggshells whenever he’s around because im scared of him snapping at me for breathing too loud” you vent to your friends as you place your hands on your eyes to try keep the tears at bay.

“how longs this been going on y/n?” pandora asks softly as she shares a concerned look with lily. you blubber out as answer that sounds like “a couple of months” as tears leak past your palms.

“i can’t keep doing this” you emphasize to them both, “and you know i can’t break up with him because we still have to get married-“

“break up?!” lily questions surprised, “you can’t be serious y/n.” she says as she places a hand on your shoulder.

“i think you need to talk to him” pandora says again as she smiles softly at you as you look at her with tear filled eyes.

“…what if he doesn’t want me anymore?” you whisper, too afraid to say it out loud in fear of it coming true.

“oh love” lily coos as she drags you into a small cuddle with her and pandora, “you’re gonna need to ask him to know that y/n” she whispers as she rubs your back.

you sigh heavily and nod before looking at the both of them. “okay” you concede as you try and form some sort of a plan to confront regulus, your anxiety spikes at the thought of him not wanting your relationship anymore, you couldn’t imagine a marriage with the man you loved where his feelings weren’t reciprocated.

the next day, you planned to corner regulus at the library before dinner but as you walked up to his table, you heard the voice of not only regulus, but barty as well.

“reg, you know you’re hurting her by ignoring her” barty says with a sigh as you pause behind a bookshelf near the table to eavesdrop.

“you know better than i, that i can never be with someone who thinks the way she does…its disgusting” regulus says with a sneer but you can hear how disappointed he is by the statement.

disgusting? he thinks i’m…disgusting? what is he even talking about? you don’t think you’ve ever done anything remotely bad enough to be called disgusting.

“how do you know she thinks like them?” barty implores and you hear regulus sigh, “you’ve seen how she acts when the sacred 28 talks about the muggles” he says and you frown, part of being a child of one of the sacred 28 meant you had to act your part, regulus knew that better than anyone else. so why was he suddenly judging you and telling barty about your issues when he couldn’t even give you the time of day?

“i don’t know if i can marry someone like her” regulus says again and your heart drops. someone like her, you repeat in your head, every insecurity you ever worked through, comes back in tenfold from that sentence alone. you stumble on your feet from the flashes of tears and heartache from all your deepest points of sorrow.

you shake your head and straighten your back before reminding yourself, if he wants a true pureblood wife, that’s what i’ll be. quiet, docile,…perfect.

your wedding approaches faster than you can imagine, dress fittings, bridal party dresses and events all pass with a blur. never fully there, you encompass a state of numbness.

regulus and all your friends notice how you slowly fall into the facade you usually have in front of your parents, instead this time, it never breaks in front of them.

regulus waits for you to come to him, to seek his comfort like you have so many times before, but it never comes.

he spends his nights worrying about you, questioning if it’s something he’s done, you’re still sweet and loving to him, just…more hollow than you were before.

you embody the perfect pureblood princess and he couldn’t hate it more, he hears from people around you how you’re not sleeping, always coming to class in a perfect face of makeup everyday when you usually only used skincare, in beautiful dresses for hogsmead days when you used to use comfortable clothes.

he tries to talk to you, to question why you’ve somehow flipped the switch out of nowhere, but they go unanswered.

the day of your wedding, he can see past the makeup, your sunken in eyes and red eyes. he still places a soft smile on his face as you stare passively into the distance, never making eye contact with him while saying your vows.

the distance between the both of you grows larger as he starts to believe that this was the life you truly wanted, a prince and princess, a couple born out of need not out of love, arranged perfectly to fit the narrative of pureblood royalty.

however, one night he falls asleep later than usual and hears you cry into your pillow, small pleas of being good enough for him as your body shakes with small sobs. he resists the urge to reach out to you in fear of you not recieving his touch well.

he lies awake as he hears you say, “i’m not like i was before, please let him love me now, oh merlin please” you whisper with clenched hands and eyes that leak tears. his heart breaks at the thought of you existing to please him.

he had seen how his mother had done the same for his father, how she turned cold and abusive with no comfort and love from her partner, how she pushed her self hatred onto her children. how that pushed her eldest son to run away.

he spends the next week racking his brain for what he could’ve done for you to think that way before he realises that the summer after his 5th year, his parents had implored him never to give you anything more than the bare minimum because nobody could be trusted. he remembers pulling away from you and pushing you away in fear of you using him for his fortune.

the idea that his parents had made him internalize that you would never love him just for him, you were moving into this marriage not because of your shared love but because of necessity. his heart drops out of his chest as he realizes all of this must have translated to you and that he now had a lot to make up for.

he plans out meticulously how to get his wife back and slowly but surely, he does. it starts with small things, a single flower that you had told him once you liked the smell of on your nightstand, a pair of earrings you remarked look beautiful when window shopping. a handwritten letter telling you goodmorning and his favorite things about you in your bag before class.

your initial confusion morphs to anger at the thought of changing yourself all for him to want you to go back to the self he called repulsive. you don’t respond to his initial attempts to woo you, but as weeks and months pass, he doesn’t give up.

he speaks to you, really speaks to you, asking you about your day, how he can help you when you’re not feeling well, what you need whenever he leaves the house, small compliments about your cooking or how the colour of your dress matches your eyes.

you two start sharing small good mornings and good nights when going to bed, which then translates to small hand holding or shared touches between each other. the ice around your heart slowly but surely starts melting whenever he’s around, you quickly become accustomed to his quick kisses on the cheek whenever he leaves the room or house.

he holds you at night as he whispers sweet promises of never letting you down again, grasping your face to look into your eyes whenever he compliments you to let you know how much you mean to him.

your heart is now warm and full at the thought of his presence, no longer a shell of yourself, slowly but surely healing with his sweet actions.

#juliwrites #marauders #regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black angst #regulus x reader #r.a.b #regulus black drabble #regulus black angst x reader #regulus black x fem!reader #regulus x reader angst #regulus angst #harry potter angst #marauders era #marauders era angst

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johnbrand · 3 months

Text

Weaponizing Normality

With @wakeup01

“C’mon babygirl, you know what to do about this, right?”

John gulped, his ex-boyfriend cockily lying on their bed. His bed. They were exes now after all, considering John had caught the flamboyant twink cheating on him with the young hunky cashier from the liquor store. But it was more than that, because John had converted his ex-boyfriend after the incident in a fit of rage. One bullet and a mental breakdown later, he had vowed to never see Garret again. But here he was, or at least, what he had become.

“How are you…why are you…” John sputtered, trying his best not to check out his former lover. The twink’s slim figure had been eradicated along with the homosexuality. Now Garret embodied the classic toxic straight boy. Rippling muscles, tanned skin, perfect hair and face. Even a tattoo was now carved into where his arm met his shoulder; the most heterosexual of all ink locations.

“What, didn’t you miss me?” Garret purred, his voice deeper and more sensual than John remembered. “Left my clothes at some chick’s place before I got here, hope you don’t mind.”

John realized what Garret was referencing. Although shirtless, he was currently wearing a pair of John’s slacks, his massive pouch stretching the fabric. Garret had always been too petite for John’s clothes before, but now the opposite problem had occurred. John envisioned his pants screaming in agony with Garett’s muscular lower half stretching them to the limit.

“Not the only thing I stretched out today, if you know what I mean,” Garett winked, reading John’s thoughts. John could not believe he could still do that after all they had been through.

“Look,” John finally sputtered, a firm decision settling in his mind. “You need to go, now.”

Garret frowned, taking a beat. “Are you sure? I come bearing gifts.”

“‘Gifts’,” John repeated unconvinced.

“Well sure,” Garret affirmed. “To thank you for all you did, and to apologize.”

Although he did not show it, John was surprised by this comment. Had conversion not morphed Garett into a classic douchebag?

“You obviously had a reason for what you did,” Garret started. “I cheated on you, plain and simple. You were acting solely as a response to my actions.”

John could not believe how mature this conversation was.

“After I got converted, everything changed for me. First off, I realized how much pussy I’ve been missing out on. It’s great stuff, man.” John did not respond, so Garret continued. “Anyway, I wanted to double up the two and come here for one last hurrah, a ‘To new beginnings!’ sort of thing.”

John considered this, “What do you have in mind?”

A self-assured smirk fell over Garret’s masculinized face. He already knew John’s answer before he even asked the question. “A thick, sensual blowjob on this new alpha body.”

John had no words. His eyes shifted from Garret’s down to the enlarged pouch, and then back up to Garret’s, before going back to the pouch again. John continued this pattern, with each glance back at Garret’s man meat a little longer than the last. Before he realized it, the words had already left his mouth.

“Please…”

Garret tossed his hands behind his head and shifted his pelvis a bit, “Get to work then, fag.”

Overridden by a sudden wave of lust, John dove in. Like a rabid dog he ripped apart Garret's (his) own pants, tearing away at the tight briefs (which on John were supposed to be boxers) immediately after. But before John could lay his eyes on the superior cock the laid below, he felt the pressure of cold metal brace his skull.

The gun went off quickly, the bullet lodging itself directly into John’s head. Garret watched as his collapsed on top of him, John’s body lifeless on top of half of his. With a chuckle, he dove his hand into the back of John’s pants and shoved his two fingers right next to the crack. He felt it pulsating, vibrating as it carefully shut its well-maintained entrance.

Garret then began to feel up the rest of John’s body, curious to see what else could be affected right away. He recognized the flab of his ex’s stomach begin to evaporate away, and took in the crackle-pops of John’s widening back. Garret could not help but investigate the armpits, relishing in the fact that they were growing hairier and sweatier by the second. Bringing his fingers up to his nose, he grinned childishly in disgusted glee at the sour smell that had latched on, growing funkier by the minute.

Garret could not believe weaponizing normality could be so wickedly fun. He glowed with mischievousness, his impish revenge tantalizing him. Garret knew that it would not be long until his vengeance would be complete. But until then, he had to get this dude off his dick.

#gay to straight #male tf #male transformation #normality tf #unintended results

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elllisaaa · 2 months

Text

how txt would confess to you

-> words count : 2.9k words

-> genre : txt members crushing on you, fluff

-> warnings : risks of getting delusional

-> sorry if I made any mistakes, english is not my first language.

-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !

-> masterlist | txt masterlist

CHOI YEONJUN - PASSIONATE

he is the embodiment of a drama queen.

but that’s why you’re going along so well after all, and that’s why he’s such a close friend.

he’s always the first one to want to know everything about the horrible dates you went on, or the dumb guys who tried to rizz you up in some creative ways, to say the least.

yeonjun always laughs at your stories, but deep down he wants to be the one taking you out on a real date and show you how you should be treated.

despite knowing about his feelings for a long time, he doesn’t want to tell you and risks losing you.

so he’s there for you anytime you need, he’s your emergency contact whenever you need to be saved from a tough situation and he even had to pretend to be your fake boyfriend to help you out.

yeonjun knows how to pretend very well, he doesn’t show anything and still comes to your apartment once a week for “girl’s night” - which consists of putting on some face masks and an uncountable amount of skincare while eating snacks and watching films you already knew by heart.

he’s also kind of your lifeguard for when both of you go out together. it’s rare but he usually keeps an eye on you so you don't do anything stupid.

You had left Yeonjun’s sight for about an hour when he found you again, giggling like a maniac with one of your friends, slumped on the couch with a drink in hand. The smile spreading on your face when you noticed him made one blossom on his lips too, and he sat down beside you, one hand coming to wrap around your shoulders.

“- You’re good ?

- Yes ! I really needed that after the shitty week I had.”

In approximately two seconds, the world around you disappeared and Yeonjun could only see your shining eyes as you were talking about a funny thing that happened to you while you were with your friend. And he was already too drunk to be able to focus on two things at once, his brain choosing to concentrate on the way your lips were moving rather than listening to what you were saying.

“- Do you trust me ?”

You looked up at him for a while, being a little wasted too, your mind had some trouble understanding every word coming out of his mouth. But in the end, you nodded your head because you did trust him with your life.

“- Enough to let me do that ?”

Yeonjun’s hand caressed your cheek so softly, you couldn’t help but lean into his touch with delight. Of course you trusted him enough for that. Of course you had wanted him to do that for almost as long as you had known him. So you let him kiss you, let him pull you closer to him.

“- What was that for, Junnie ?

- Just because you’re you.

- Stop trying to seduce me.”

But his eyes were telling you that he wouldn’t, and you were in fact more than okay with that.

“- you know that i’m not the best at following the rules. i hope we’ll both remember that tomorrow.”

CHOI SOOBIN - SAD

the sweetest and most caring friend you could ever imagine, it’s him.

he’s the kind of friend who knows you better than yourself and that will bring you food when you’re hungry even if you didn’t tell him about it.

he’s also the kind of friend you can spend entire days with without talking much, just watching series together and scrolling on your phone because you’re that comfortable with each other.

but it goes both ways because you’re always here for soobin too.

you have known each other for a long time, even before he became an idol, and you’ve been here for him since the start, never doubting that he will make it, and soobin is really grateful for that.

you’re his first supporter, and he’s yours too.

that means he also makes sure that you never compare your achievements to his because you’re just as successful in your field, and you’re just as passionate about your job.

but he sure is under a lot of pressure and it leads to him often coming to you when he’s in a bad mood.

“- You’re already here ?

- I told you I was only five minutes away !”

Soobin smiled to himself as he unlocked the door for you. You were always right here when he called you, and it warmed his heart to know that you would be here for him anytime. As soon as you put a foot inside, you opened your arms for him to hug you, and he fell into your embrace with ease, a sense of relief washing over him when you started to run your hands through his hair.

“- You wanna talk or eat first ?

- Eat. I’ve barely had the time to have something today.”

You sighed, but you were used to hearing him tell you that he skipped meals because he didn’t have the time, because he was too tired to think about eating, because he was so overworked sometimes. You never stopped worrying about him, but you were always here to bring him everything he needed. You sat him down on the couch, emptying your grocery bags on the table, several snacks and takeouts spilling out.

“- Choose what you want, I’ll take the rest.”

Soobin was used to it by now. At first, he felt guilty to “force” you to do such things for him, but the comfort it brought him was worth it. He grabbed a bag of his favorite chips, and some ramen while you opened your bottle of iced tea. You ate in almost complete silence, sometimes laughing about a thing or two, but you knew Soobin also needed some calm after these complicated days.

“- Y/N ?”

You turned around to face him as best as you could from your place on the floor, one of your hands resting against his thigh. He seemed even much taller when he was sitting on the couch like that, but his sad eyes made him look so much smaller to you.

“- Do you think I’m a good leader ? Do you think they made the right choice ?

- Of course, Soob. They made the best choice. You’re doing an amazing job, I don’t think you even realize how much the guys rely on you, and how much you help them on a daily basis. And you even find the time to listen to me ramble about my shitty coworkers, so that says a lot about how perfect you are for this job.”

You could’ve gone on and on about every little thing that made him an incredible human being, but Soobin’s lips on yours stopped you from doing exactly that. But you weren’t going to complain when you’ve dreamt about this moment for so long.

“- i’ve been wanting to do that for so long… will you be my girlfriend ?”

CHOI BEOMGYU - POUTY

playful and teasing you constantly.

and the more feelings he has for you, the more he’s gonna annoy you - it’s his way to get your attention all for him.

he’s always here to poke fun at you, even more when it’s about embarrassing things because your cheeks turn red and he finds it adorable.

however, beomgyu knows when he has to stop and where’s the limits because the last thing he wants is to hurt you or make you feel like he doesn’t take into consideration your feelings.

i think everyone knows that he’s in love with you before he realizes it, and his hyungs kind of have to push him in the right direction for him to have an epiphany.

the moment he realizes he has been in love with you all along, he tries to keep up his behavior, but the blush spreading on his cheeks everytime you touch him or praise him is even worse than before.

it’s honestly very cute, and you sometimes do it on purpose because watching his usually confident self stumbling over his words is charming.

nonetheless, beomgyu would want to confess so you can reject him and he can move on - because you cannot have a crush on him when you’re literally a goddess and he’s a loser.

so when you actually tell him that you love him first, he’s gonna be pouting like a child.

“- What did you want to talk about ?”

You took a deep breath, trying to lower your heartbeat a little. You had planned on telling him all about your feelings for days, you thought you were prepared well enough, but the way you were panicking right now was clearly a sign that you were not ready. But you had to do it right now, or you would lose your courage forever.

“- Uh… It’s a little personal, and you can just send me off if you’re not comfortable, okay ?

- Okay… You’re scaring me, Y/N !”

Well, it was scary for you too. You couldn’t cross his eyes without feeling the urge to run away. Beomgyu’s suspicious gaze also did nothing to reassure you. But you really had to do it.

“- It’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while, but I was too much of a coward, you know me. Well… I kind of have the biggest crush on you, you see ? And I know you probably don’t feel the same about me, and it’s okay, really, I just don’t want to lose you as a friend, you know. You’re really important to me, and if you need some space, or time to think, you can have it. I just wanted to let you know that I love you. And, uh… That’s it.”

You wanted to slap yourself for being so awkward. You wanted to die when you saw the pout on his face, as if he was disappointed in you. Of course, you should’ve guessed that someone as amazing as Beomgyu couldn’t have feelings for you. You were almost ready to turn away and spend the next three days crying in your room when he pulled you into his arms, his head nuzzling against your neck.

“- It’s not fair !

- W-What ?

- You’re not funny, I wanted to confess first. Is it always gonna be like that, uh ? You’re going to take all the decisions for me ?

- I don’t understand, Gyu…”

Well, you had understood, but you wanted to be sure before letting the butterflies come alive in your stomach. Beomgyu took you by your shoulders, rolling his eyes as if you were dumb, but you knew he was just teasing, his cheeks and neck all red telling everything his words couldn’t.

“- i like you too, idiot. and let me tell you, i’m not gonna let you propose to me, i’ll be the one to do it.”

KANG TAEHYUN - HELPLESS

he’s silent, quiet and calm - kind of a focal point you know will always be here.

you are the first person he mentions every time he’s meeting someone new because you’re the first thing that comes into his mind when we’re talking about love.

it started with a friendly love, a relationship that built up slowly, based on trust and honesty.

and then, taehyun started to feel something more. it took him some time to figure out why he wanted to be with you all the time.

he’s the type to be silently taking care of you with little gestures or gifts rather than with words - paying for you when you go out together, putting his hands around the corners when you’re near something he considers dangerous or giving you his jacket when you’re cold.

but taehyun values your friendship too much to dare and break it : he wants to make sure that the feelings are mutual before confessing.

and not gonna lie, it would take him years to actually do it.

plus he also wanna make sure that these feelings are not just a pointless crush or a very close friendship.

but when he starts to become jealous of every guy that tries to ask you out, he has to be realistic and admit that he is really in love with you.

what’s more intriguing though is that you’ve never been on that many dates since you’ve known him…

“- Can I ask you something ?”

You nodded without looking at Taehyun directly, too focused on trying to cut the muffin he ordered for the both of you in half perfectly.

“- If it’s too personal you can totally have that all for yourself.”

That was becoming way more interesting, so you let down the knife, looking up to cross your friend’s eyes. And contrary to his usually calm and collected demeanor, he seemed agitated, anxious. It rarely occurred, and it immediately worried you, the tone of this hangout becoming way more serious all of sudden.

“- Why do I never see you going out on dates ? We’ve been friends for years and you’ve never introduced me to any guy.”

You could feel that he tried to be casual about this subject, but you had known him for too long to not know when he was completely serious. You straightened in your chair, trying to find an excuse, but maybe it was finally time to tell the truth ? Maybe it was finally time to tell him the only thing you’ve never confessed to him ?

“- Can I be honest, Tae ?

- Of course, you can always be honest with me, you know that.”

You nodded and took a deep breath. The time had come. Your eyes fell into his curious ones, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

“- I don’t date because I’m already in love with someone.”

The admission lifted a weight off of your shoulders, but waiting for his answer was even more nerve-wrecking.

“- That’s why I’ve never introduced you to any girls. Because I’m in love with you.”

The smile that blossomed on both of your faces was unmistakable, and you felt like you could fly right now. That was how he always made you feel - like everything was possible. And you never wanted this feeling to stop.

“- i can’t believe it took me years to realize that. i’m going to make it worth the wait, i promise.”

HUENING KAI - ENERGETIC

he’s such a cutie patootie, i’m dying (who could’ve guessed he was my bias ?)

i can’t even start to express how sweet this guy is because he has a fucking collection of plushies, how can he do any wrong in this world, please protect him at all costs !!

that being said, i feel like he’s such a great listener.

anytime you need to vent about something that happened, he lets you do it and cry on his shoulder.

he doesn’t even need to do anything to make you feel better, his mere presence is enough, and it also goes the other way around.

the ultimate proof of his trust in you is that you always have one of his plushies with you at home, under the condition that you have to send him some photos - it’s an excuse to nourish his folder of cute photos of you he has in his phone.

you’re definitely his lockscreen and he feels a strange rush of happiness when people ask him if you’re his girlfriend.

his hyungs would watch the two of you interact while facepalming internally because how can kai be so blind to the adoration in your eyes when you look at him ?

the realization that he’s in love with you will hit him like a truck one day, while he’s simply looking at you while he’s trying to teach you how to play some of his favorite video games.

“- Why are you looking at me like that ? Do I have something on my face ?”

But Kai wasn’t able to answer right away. Why did he only realize how much he liked you now ? How did he spend so much time without being hit by the fact that you were literally the love of his life ? Of course, he always knew you were incredibly pretty. Of course, he always knew something in him reacted like a teenager in front of his crush whenever he was with you, because he couldn’t help the blush creeping up his neck when you praised him for his voice or his dance skills.

“- Kai ? Is everything alright ?”

You shook your hand in front of his eyes for a few seconds, and that seemed to be enough to make him come back to reality because he grabbed your hand in his, his eyes fixed in yours.

“- I think I’m in love with you.”

The confession was so sudden, so unexpected, that it was your turn to be completely silent and not know what to say. You opened your mouth and closed it a few times without being able to produce any sound.

“- Ah, don’t look at me like that, Y/N, you’re making me anxious.”

The truth was that Kai was certainly even more panicked than you. He never meant to tell you that, he never meant to let the words out, but when he felt your body colliding with his, his mind was immediately eased.

“- You’re dumb if you think I’m gonna pass on the opportunity to be with you. I’ve been waiting for you to confess.”

Kai hid his smile against your shoulder, completely forgetting about the game still playing as a background noise on his computer screen.

“- i’m sorry, i’ve been a little slow. will you forgive me if i take you out on a date.”

-> i don't allow copies, reblogs or translations of my work.

txt taglist (fill in this to be added) :

@bbgnyx @hann1bee @snouvllvg @foxinnie8 @lichyuu

#kpop #txt #tomorrow x together #txt x reader #txt fluff #txt reactions #txt fics #soobin #soobin x reader #yeonjun #yeonjun x reader #beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #taehyun #taehyun x reader #huening kai #kai #huening kai x reader #kai x reader

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cheralith · 1 year

Text

the ghost of you | miguel o'hara

synopsis: you thought he was gone. what you didn't know was that he was waiting for you a universe away... or in other words... miguel is your gwen stacy and in another life, you're his.

word count: 2.5k (unedited as of 07/19 per usual)

a/n: a short (or at least in my terms is short) oneshot of sorts just to scratch that miguel angst itch

you never particularly believed in second chances.

you thought they were something foolish to believe in. often you think that second chances alternated the future that bewitched you with its cruelty towards you, despite knowing that this was what was to become the moment you put on that suit that gleamed to others of pride and glory.

fate as an embodiment is never, and will never, be kind towards you. you never believed in second chances because they were never offered to you because if they were, you could've prevented the entirety that was your life if you could've just chosen a different path.

you could've never gotten the job at alchemax.

you could've never been one of the star scientists that captured the attention of tyler stone.

you could've never met him—the love of your life.

because if you didn't, he would've been safe in the blissful ignorance that was your existence. but now, the haunting image of his face laying woefully in your lap—loving eyes now permanently close, the shallow river of crimson streaming from his nose with pale and dry lips that could no longer whisper sweet nothings slightly agape—is now permanently tattooed in the halls of your memory.

the failure to save the one person you kept to closely at heart served as a reminder that you had a duty to attend to and that you were to attend to it with nothing more than confidence, that you were to never repeat such a feat ever again.

because death offers no second chances to those who he greets. second chances are mere child's play, a figure of imagination that people choose to believe out of hope.

at least, that's what you've chosen to believe.

whenever jessica looks at you, you just barely manage to catch the glimpse of a particular look that you can't pinpoint the exact emotion of. you think it's a mixture of melancholy or apprehensiveness, but you're never able to quite accurately describe the look for it. but it goes away just as fast as it comes, her quickly shooing it away as if it was a pesky spider.

you've never inquired about it. you don't think you should, really, especially considering when she's in charge of possibility escorting you to what you've never known you could desire for.

"i've decided," jess states, a hand going to caress her prominent belly affectionately.

you let out a hum, your gaze not moving from the magnificent view you and her share of your universe's new york's skyline—you wonder how it differs from her own new york. "decided what?"

from her amber glasses, she offers you swift glance. "decided to perhaps let you visit hq once and for all."

it's no surprise that her statement makes your eyes go wide and jaw slack. jessica drew had found you alone in your own universe awhile ago, her being the first proven evidence that there were worlds beyond yours existing... meaning that there was existence of different variants of you. acquiring that knowledge had sparked an excitement in you that you hadn't felt in such a long time, that you didn't even know you could feel.

you wanted to see the other spider-people, a hunger caverning itself within you to know more, see more, to satisfy the loneliness you've felt since the dreaded day you lost miguel o'hara. to know that others likeminded to you actually existed was something you longed to confirm, leading to jessica constantly putting up with your begging to see what the headquarters of the so-called "spider society" was like.

you've met a few already—the rebellious, yet ambitious hobie brown from earth-138, the egotistic, yet grandiloquent ben reilly from earth-94, and the sarcastic, yet compassionate peter b. parker from earth-616. but it isn't enough. a yearn to see all of everyone alike to you grows stronger and stronger by the day, yet jessica is always quick to deny you from seeing hq and the rest of the spider-people, quick to excuse it with her needing to “evaluate you more.”

something about the excuse seemed rather loose to you, as if it was a cover-up for something... bigger? but again, you never questioned her actions because if you did, you could end up screwing yourself over and the possibility of you never joining them was perhaps a pit that welcomed you with open arms.

but now, after what seemed like ages (it was a given three weeks in reality) of consistent "no"'s and "soon"'s, your wish has been finally granted.

"do you mean it?" you whisper excitedly, leaning towards her with a gleeful smile. "like, really mean it?!"

"no, actually i was just joking," jess says with a suppressed grin. you whine aloud with furrowed brows, making her laugh aloud. "i'm kidding. yes, i mean it. i talked with my... my superior of sorts... and they granted me permission to let you into the spider-society."

jess watches with a soft grin as you giddily bounce about the twilight-cladded rooftop, the phrase of "thank you" endlessly on loop from your lips. with no time to waste on either ends, jessica opens up a portal leading to the universe that the spider-society was held in, jutting her head towards it for you to step foot in.

the tantalizing colors of a fiery sunset twirl about in your vision as the hum of the portal whispers itself in your ears. you've gone in portals before, but this particular one forces you to ground yourself and truly acknowledge what was to become of this present moment because the moment you enter this portal, your fate was sealed.

and fate gives no second chances regardless of any situation.

"nervous?" jess asks as she stands still besides you, examining your hypnotized state.

you swallow thickly, despite the smile still lifted atop your lips. "a little..."

"i see," she hums. she studies your features for a bit, admiring the way the sun halos your side profile before her gaze returns to the portal that you still stare at.

jessica suppresses a giggle, with her hand lifting slowly behind you without acknowledgement before it pushes you in with no warning. your screams of terror fall deaf on her ears, her being too busy with a soft fit of laughter at your bewilderment.

"jess!?" you shout from inside the portal.

"sorry, my hand slipped," she calls from the outside, mindlessly examining her fingernails.

"i'm gonna kill you!" you screech before your figure dissipates itself from her view.

jessica watches as the portal expands itself again like a blooming flower before she turns away from it once again, the smile of amusement fading ever so quickly. her wrist lifts itself up and quietly she murmurs into her device, "are you one hundred percent sure about this?"

there's a static that scuffs by before another voice stereos from it, one that jessica knows for a fact that you'll be much too accustomed to.

"there's no going back now."

jessica thinks she might have to put you on a leash. somehow, you've reverted back into a child at a playground from the way you're consistently getting out of her sight, too distracted by all the unique spider-people that pass you.

"i love your armor," you compliment with glowing cheeks to the spider-knight that gives you a salute. "wow, her hair is really cool... i love that guy's webbing! holy shit, is that a fucking t-rex?"

"yes yes," jess sighs and grabs you by your collar, "that's pter. he's one of us, now would you please behave?"

you smile sheepishly at her, "sorry... i can't help but get—a cat!"

jessica slaps a hand to her forehead, rubbing it with annoyance. you're not much younger than she is, but she thinks that there's too much of a resemblance between a five year old and the you that's much too preoccupied petting a content peter pawrker that purrs as you affectionately scratch behind his ears.

while rather a little irked, jessica can't help but feel a little at ease with the more time that gets eaten up as it passes by. she knows it's foolish, but to put off the one thing that you were supposed to come here for was perhaps ideal, knowing that the future truly remains unknown of what to come in the next few minutes.

her anticipation grows more weary by the second, especially as you and her approach the one location that is rarely ever allowed visitors.

she shoots a web and reels you back to her, not wanting to waste any more time than needed. your pleas of wanting to pet spider-cat more are ignored, being replaced with an urgency of, "there's someone i want you to meet."

jess walks you to a darkened and closed off area of the headquarters, one that you didn't know would've existed had she not lead you there. it's dark all around, the wide and vast space only illuminated by the golden glow of holographic computers atop a floating platform. there's no one around, just the hum of the technology filling the void until a voice echoes out from seemingly nowhere.

"you may leave, jess."

your companion offers you a final goodbye, a whisper of "you'll be okay, he doesn't bite." tickling your ear. there's not much time to react, as jessica stalks off faster than you can blink, and the thundering shut of the door bellows in the corridor.

you're left alone in the odd, dark room. it's a contrasted atmosphere to the interior of hq and rather, it unsettles you—especially considering the fact that despite it seeming like you're by yourself, you're not alone.

"are you the person that jess was talking about?" you ask quietly, hoping that despite the timidity and softness of your voice, that it's still heard.

the voice thunders out again hauntingly.

"you haven't changed."

the majority of your voice gets caught in your throat. something about that voice seems vaguely familiar, but seven words aren't enough for you to quite decipher its owner, despite the wisp of the ghost of the past whispering something unintelligible behind you.

"i-i'm sorry?" you state aloud with your voice caught between a question and a nervous laugh.

the owner of the voice stays quiet for a still moment before speaking once more.

"why are you still just as beautiful as the day i lost you?"

your brows furrow. are you supposed to know him? this person?

you're so focused on the platform of computers that it doesn't register to you that someone emerges from the shadows from behind you until the wind of something... someone grazing you. reflexes jumping into action, you gasp and jump back, your feet skidding themselves on the ground too painfully to the point where your balance is lost and your back stumbles first on the ground.

the shadow comes closer to you and fear strikes itself in your heart at last. something about this person is warning you with danger, that something bad is brewing. your hands dig into the ground and shuffle yourself backwards until you hit the wall. your heart is pounding painfully loud, with the rhythm of it pumping through your ears. a scream is begging to be let out of your throat, a certain type of terrified you haven't felt in years clawing at the edge of it, but the only thing that you can let out is a weakened whimper.

whoever the shadow is merely comes closer to you in the same pace he kept himself at, showing no signs of stopping.

the light of the moon that seeps into the rooftop windows suddenly let the light in and spotlights the person at last, making all the resolve in your body evaporate the moment you catch his face.

the face that's supposed to not exist anymore—the face of a dead lover who you watched with your own two eyes slip from your life—is currently plastered itself in front of you.

the face of miguel o'hara stares at you with the same daunting expression you wear.

the last time you saw this face was in the open casket funeral held for him two weeks after his death. you had stared at it for what seemed to be hours in the open rain, trying to come to terms that you will never see it again.

yet here you are, looking at it once more in the life that you thought would never show you any sort of mercy.

"miguel...?"

the person in front of you crouches down to your height and comes shyly closer to you, afraid that if he made the wrong move, you'd scamper away from him like a frightened doe.

unconsciously, you lift your hand up to truly see if what you were seeing right now was real—that your deceased lover was somehow alive right in front of you. the miguel that stands before you lets your hand cradle his cheek ever so gently, like he was made of the finest glass alive. the physical contact jolts you awake again and out of your trance, making you retract your hand as if you had just touched something hot.

miguel blinks. his chest heaves, mimicking your own that pools with longing. he goes to gently touch your hand again, bringing it back up to his face and shuffling his cheek to feel the warmth of it again.

the way his his face fits so nicely in your palm makes your chest burn.

"mi sol..." he murmurs, his lips wisping a soft kiss to your palm.

and suddenly, you're alive again. it's a different sort, the type of liveliness that only love could spark. so when you realize that the very flame you thought could never be lit again is once burning bright, you break into sobs.

your arms wrap around his neck tightly, like he'll be taken away from you all over again. his own go to hug your waist in the same manner, enveloping you in a warmth you could never seem to mimic with anyone else.

"i thought i lost you," you cry quietly, the image of miguel's face during that night flashing through your eyes.

his hand caresses your hair warmly. "i thought i lost you," he murmurs back, his throat evidently tight with a flood of yearning emotions.

you retract back and study him carefully this time, making sure he's here with you right now... alive.

and when his lips connect with yours for the first time in years, it doesn't take long for you to return the favor, knowing that the one thing you've longed for the most for the past years is finally back into your arms.

deep inside, you know he isn't your miguel, just in the same sense that you aren't his (y/n). you know that no matter how many miguels and (y/n)s are out there, no two could ever replicate each other in the manner that the latter wants.

but for now, you let yourself indulge in this second chance you thought could never come to life.

by the power of fate though... it somehow did. and you'd rather not waste any more time questioning it.

#spider man: across the spider verse #atsv #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x (y/n)#miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara smut #atsv fic #miles morales #hobie brown #gwen stacy

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