#her mother genuinely meant well and wishes the best for her daughter

[crowdsourcedloner]

18. Has your OC ever had a prophecy made about them? Was it a big deal or did they ignore it? Was it straightforward or cryptic? Did it ever come to pass or did they circumvent it?

Yomi left home due to a prophecy about her, though she didn't know it at the time.

Her mother was a skilled oracle, divining prophecies and fortunes for whoever approached her and offering them sage wisdom or guidance from the kami. She loved her only daughter dearly and sought to pass on all she knew in time, but a dark portent made itself known far before Yomi's training was complete. The prophecy stated that Yomi would be held dear by those that are kin to destruction - what form that destruction would take was unclear, though. Yomi's mother had to make a choice between keeping her daughter and protecting her village, and she chose to protect the village. She sent Yomi on a pilgrimage to "better understand the world and kami inhabiting it" and imposed exile upon her once she left.

Yomi is not able to return home because of it, but she's made a life with Zezene and the others. Her friendship with the Warrior of Light is something she wouldn't give up for the world, prophecy or not.

[mrschtappen]

𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐄

I : The Call of the Circuit -> II : Dreams Ignited (soon) -> III : Untitled (soon)

masterlist

Max Verstappen x Schumacher!reader

Synopsis: childhood friends Max Verstappen and you, the daughter of racing legend Michael Schumacher, evolve from best friends to fierce rivals to teammates. maybe then to lovers....?

Monday, 10th December, 2018 Faenza, Italy

You sat alone at your new office, your eyes fixed on the glowing screen of your phone. The Twitter announcement you had posted earlier that day was still causing ripples across the internet, igniting a firestorm of reactions and responses from fans and followers around the world.

As you scrolled through the flood of comments, memes, and well-wishes flooding your feed, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. The overwhelming wave of support and excitement from your supporters served as a poignant reminder of the incredible journey that lay ahead.

You made sure you turned off the lights of your new office when you were about to go. Settling inside your Audi R8, the soft chime from your phone took your attention away from driving.

As you read Max's message about bringing a Michael Schumacher merch from Germany, a wave of mixed emotions washed over you. The mention of your father's name, especially in connection with Germany, brought back vivid memories of the ski accident that had changed your lives forever in 2013.

your heart felt heavy, a subtle ache resurfacing as you recalled the challenging times that followed your father's accident. The uncertainty, the hope, and the unwavering support from loved ones, including Max, during those difficult years played like a reel in your mind.

Despite the pain and the bittersweet nostalgia, you weren't angry with Max for bringing up those memories. In fact, you felt a sense of gratitude for his thoughtfulness and the comfort of your shared history. Max had been a pillar of strength and understanding throughout your journey, and his genuine care and friendship meant more to you than any merchandise ever could.

Sitting alone in your car, you took a moment to let the emotions wash over you. You reflected on your journey and the pivotal decision to join Formula 1, a deep sense of determination and purpose filled your heart. Since you were three years old, the dream of racing in F1 had been a beacon of hope and ambition, driving you to push boundaries and defy expectations.

You knew that stepping onto the track wasn't just about fulfilling your childhood dreams; it was also a tribute to your father and the legacy he had built. The memories of watching Michael Schumacher's triumphant moments, especially his 6th championship title, had ignited a spark within you, fueling her passion and commitment to chase after her own aspirations.

Despite the challenges and the weight of the past, you felt a profound sense of gratitude and pride. You knew that your journey was a testament to your resilience, determination, and the unwavering support of those who believed in you, including Max.

Sunday, 12th October, 2003 Suzuka, Japan

As a three-year-old, you may not have comprehended the complexity of Formula One racing, the excitement buzzing in the air, the infectious energy of the crowd through the grandstands. The vibrant colors of the racing cars zooming past, the deafening roar of engines, and the flashes of cameras captured your attention, painting a kaleidoscope of sensory impressions.

Although your understanding was limited at such a tender age, the sight of Michael Schumacher, dressed in his iconic red racing suit, elicited a sense of pride and admiration within your young heart.

"That's my dad !" your little fingers pointed at the red car zooming the finish line, practically screaming at everyone as you started clapping then. 

The warmth of your mother's embrace welcomed you as you cheered together, caught up in the euphoria of the moment.

your eyes wide with wonder as you watched your father bask in the spotlight and as Michael Schumacher descended from the podium, triumphant and beaming with joy, his eyes sought out you, your mother and your older brother Mick in the crowd. With a tender smile, he reached out to scoop up his young daughter, lifting you into his arms and hoisting you high above the crowd.

the cameras flashed and the crowd erupted into applause, you enjoyed the attention, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world to be held in the arms of your racing hero.

The image of your bond captured for all to see, you knew that this was a moment you would cherish forever—a moment when you felt truly seen and cherished by the man who meant the world to you. 

your dad, Michael Schumacher. 

Saturday, 27th November 2003. Gland, Switzerland

you stepped onto the karting track for the very first time, your heart pounding with excitement and nerves. The whole family was there along with your dad's friend's family, the Vertsappens. With your tiny hands gripping the steering wheel of your go-kart, you were confused on how the whole kart operates. 

"You've got this schatzi !" You heard your dad cheer for you from a distance, calling you a nickname that means sweetie in German. 

Frustrated, you spoke 

"How do I do this ?"

Max Verstappen, the seasoned six-year-old racer, flashed you a mischievous grin as he leaned over to offer his expertise.

"Watch and learn, little rookie. First, you gotta push down on the pedal like this..."

With a swift motion, Max demonstrated, his foot pressing down on the accelerator pedal with practiced ease. You watched intently, your eyes wide with fascination.

"Like this?"

you mimicked Max's actions, but your foot hesitated on the pedal, unsure of the right amount of pressure to apply.

Max chuckled, reaching over to gently guide your foot.

"Almost there, y/n ! You just need to press a little harder."

you nodded eagerly, determined to master the art of go-karting with Max's help.

"Got it! Thanks, Maxie !"

As you zip around the track, the conversation turned to your shared love for Formula One racing.

"Do you think we'll ever drive in Formula One, Max ?"

Max grinned, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

"Of course! And when we do, I'll be the world champion, then Mick and you will be my trusty sidekicks."

you rolled her eyes playfully, a giggle escaping your lips.

"Dream on, Max! I'll be the one leaving you in the dust!"

"Hey, you two ! How's it going ? " a familiar voice chimed in from behind you, causing both Max and you to turn around 

Max grinned, giving Mick a playful nod.

"We're having a blast ! little rookie here is a natural behind the wheel."

you blushed at the praise from Max 

"Thanks, Maxie ! And hey, Mick, I'm going to beat you someday !"

Mick laughed heartily, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Is that so ? Well, I look forward to the challenge ! Let's see who can get to formula one first" 

Your banter filled the air with laughter as the three of you raced around the track, your friendship growing stronger with each passing lap. And as you crossed the finish line second, just a few millisecond behind Max, a smile grew wide on your face.

"Looks like you've got a prodigy, are you sure this is her first time ? She's a natural" Max's dad said, a chuckle escaped from your dad

You crossed the finish line just 4 tenths of a second later than someone who was 3 years older than you. You can feel the pride surging even when you were just so little.

"wow you're fast" your older brother said, giving you a high five as you returned it enthusiastically with a tiny jump

"yeah, not so bad little rookie !" Max also gave you a high five

you smile with your tiny teeths showing, your dad embraced you, lifting you up in the air

"my daughter is a soon to be formula one racer, and the world shall know you as for you are, not the daughter of a six time world champion but y/n Schumacher."

you couldn't help but feel grateful for everyone's guidance and support, knowing that with them by your side, you knew you were able to achieve anything.

Thursday, 14 March 2019 Melbourne, Australia ROUND ONE

As you took your first steps out to greet the fans, a wave of exhilaration and gratitude washed over you. The energy from the crowd was palpable, a mix of excitement, anticipation, and overwhelming support. The sight of fans waving flags, holding up banners, and wearing team colors was a surreal and heartwarming experience for you.

Walking along the barricades, you were met with a sea of merchandise bearing your name and face, along with the iconic Michael Schumacher memorabilia that fans had brought along. The presence of the Michael Schumacher merchandise added an extra layer of emotion to the moment, reminding you of the legacy you were a part of and the immense responsibility that came with it.

As you greeted fans, signing autographs and posing for photos, several fans couldn't help but comment on the striking resemblance between you and your legendary father, Michael Schumacher. Their kind words and compliments about your beauty and resemblance to your father filled you with a sense of pride and humility.

Amidst the flurry of interactions, one fan caught your attention with a cheeky remark that left both of you laughing.

you backed away with laughter, cupping your mouth, looking at a marriage certificate by an older fanboy, a good looking one you couldn't lie.

"I'm 19 !" You exclaimed, a wide laugh still visible on your face

"Maybe in a few years !" You joked, before moving to another fan, signing her cap with the number 57 on it, a number you chose to drive for.

It was media day today which means there's no driving and the press conference began with Lewis Hamilton from Mercedes, Sebastian Vettel of Ferrari, Daniel Ricciardo from Renault, Max Verstappen of Red Bull Racing and of course yourself, y/n Schumacher from Scuderia Toro Rosso.

"We’re gathered under very sad circumstances, following the news that Charlie Whiting, the FIA’s Director of Formula One died during the early hours of this morning. I’d like to start this press conference by asking each of the drivers present for their thoughts and memories of Charlie. Lewis, could we start with you, please?" Lewis spoke to the mic

"I’ve known Charlie since I started in 2007. I made some comments this morning on my Instagram. It may have not worked, as I think it’s down but obviously incredibly shocked this morning to hear the sad news and my thoughts and prayers are with him and his family. What he did for this sport, I mean, his commitment… he really was a pillar, as Toto said, such an iconic figure in the sporting world and he contributed so much for us, so may he rest in peace."

as the other drivers stated their comments regarding the passing of the late Charlie Whiting, it was your turn to answer

"How about y/n ? I believe this has come to a big shock as well as your father was also racing when he was the f1 racing director ?"

"yes, my father raced during Charlie's tenure as F1 Racing Director. I've met Charlie a few times and found him to be a wonderful person. His dedication to safety and fairness in Formula One was unmatched. Charlie's ability to connect with everyone in the paddock and his unwavering passion for the sport made him irreplaceable. My thoughts are with his family, friends, and the entire FIA community during this tough time. His legacy in Formula One will always be remembered"

as they continued tho the next question, you were shocked as to how bold and daring for this male interviewer to ask the whole lot of drivers with you

"Given the whispers around the paddock about nepotism getting y/n Schumacher this seat due to her father's legacy, and considering she is the sole female on the grid, do you drivers genuinely believe she is as competent as the other drivers, or do you acknowledge a potential gap in her skill?"

As the interviewer's words cut through the tension of the room, your face tightened, a blend of disbelief and frustration clouding your features. The weight of the question bore down on you, amplifying your discomfort and vulnerability in that moment.

You felt exposed, the spotlight glaringly bright, intensifying the scrutiny you felt as the only female driver on the grid.

Sensing your discomfort, a subtle shift occurred amongst the drivers on the panel. Eyes darted towards you, expressions reflecting concern and empathy.

Among them, Max Verstappen's gaze lingered a moment longer, his usually confident demeanor softened by genuine concern for his fellow driver.

The collective silence that followed the question seemed to stretch on, the atmosphere thick with tension. But within you, a resilient fire ignited. Drawing strength from the supportive glances of your peers and your own unwavering determination, you steadied yourself. You would not let this moment define you or shake your belief in your own capabilities.

"could we start with you again Lewis ?"

Lewis's expression tightened, clearly upset by the nature of the question.

"Honestly, I find it disappointing that in this day and age, we're still having these discussions. Women have proven time and time again that they can compete at the highest levels of motorsport. I've been a staunch supporter of women in racing, and I've seen firsthand the talent and determination they bring to the track."

"Look, in Formula 1, everyone's path to the grid is different. Yes, some of us come from racing families or have certain connections, but ultimately, talent and hard work are what count. I've faced skepticism throughout my career for various reasons, and I've always chosen to let my performance on the track speak for itself. As for y/n, she's shown promise and skill in her journey to F1. The sport is better when we have diverse talents, and I believe she deserves her place here"

"Thank you for the answer, could we move on to Vettel next ?"

Vettel's brows furrowed, eyes narrowing with a mix of disbelief and growing indignation. "It's disappointing, really, to hear these questions. Every driver on this grid has earned their seat through dedication, hard work, and skill. Formula 1 is a tough environment, and to suggest that anyone is here purely because of their name or gender undermines the effort we all put in. I've met y/n and seen her commitment firsthand. She belongs here as much as anyone else."

Then they moved on to Danny. His jovial demeanor momentarily shifted as he heard the interviewer's pointed question directed at you. Being someone who often exudes positivity and fairness, Daniel values meritocracy and respects the grind every driver goes through to reach Formula 1. Hearing a fellow driver being questioned on the basis of nepotism and gender struck a chord with him.

"Ah, the old nepotism and gender card. It's not a new question in F1, but it's one that misses the mark. Sure, having a famous last name might open some doors initially, but it won't keep them open if you can't deliver on track. As for being the only female driver, I think it's about time we focus on skills and capabilities rather than gender. I've had the chance to get to know y/n, and she's got talent. End of story."

Then they moved on to Max, who is known for his fierce competitiveness and straightforwardness. It was clear that he was infuriated by the audacious implication and the discomfort it caused you.

Seeing you visibly uncomfortable only intensified Max's emotions. He felt a surge of protective anger, recognizing the unfair scrutiny and challenges you faced as the only female driver on the grid. In that moment, the friendship among drivers was evident, as Max's concern for your well-being was palpable.

His eyes flashed with fury as he seized the opportunity to address the interviewer's audacious question. His voice dripped with venom as he unleashed his pent-up frustration.

"Firstly, the audacity to question anyone's place on this grid based on gender or family name is just absolute garbage. She's earned her spot on this grid through sheer talent and hard work, just like the rest of us. Anyone who suggests otherwise is either blind or just plain ignorant."

His words were sharp and cutting, each syllable laced with disdain for the backward mindset behind the question. Max's aggression was palpable as he continued to tear down the baseless accusations.

"In case you missed it, Formula 1 is about racing, talent, dedication, and hard work, not gender or who your parents are. It's disappointing to still be facing these backward stereotypes in this day and age. We should be focusing on racing and the incredible talent we have on this grid, not trying to create controversy where there isn't any . For the record, I've raced alongside her, and I've known her my entire life. Y/n is an extraordinary racer through and through, and she's proven herself time and time again."

He paused, taking a breath to temper his rising emotions before continuing,

"So, how about we focus on the actual sport instead of dredging up this garbage ?"

Max's aggressive defence reverberated through the room, leaving no doubt as to where he stood on the matter and silencing any further attempts to undermine your place in the sport.

As you listened to Max's vehement defense, a mixture of emotions washed over you. Initially, there was a sense of relief and gratitude. Max's and the other drivers' unwavering support and fierce defence of you felt like a shield against the unfair scrutiny you had faced. It was reassuring to know that your fellow drivers stood your her and were willing to call out the injustice.

Your eyes briefly met Max's intense gaze, conveying a silent thank you and mutual understanding of the gravity of the situation.

Then it was finally your turn to answer

With a poised demeanor, you addressed the room, your voice steady and confident.

"I'd like to extend my sincere appreciation to my fellow drivers for their support. It speaks volumes about the fellowship and respect we share as competitors."

Pausing momentarily, you continued with a touch of irony,

"Regarding the questions raised about nepotism and being the only female on the grid, I was under the impression that Formula 1 valued skill, determination, and performance above all else. My presence here is a testament to my commitment, capability, and qualities I believe are fundamental to every driver on this grid."

Maintaining your composure, you added, "While these questions may have been posed, my focus remains unwaveringly on racing. I am here to compete, to challenge, and to succeed, just like every other driver. I look forward to letting my performance on the track speak for itself. Besides, I don't see 19 men ahead of me, I see 19 challenges to be conquered."

With this response, you gracefully but firmly addressed the issue, highlighting your professionalism and determination to rise above the noise and excel in your chosen profession.

[damallarky]

Truce

There was an influx of Papae!Solas content and I wanted to share a WIP I was working on that I'm not sure what I'm going to do with or where it's going to go in the grand scheme of my Inquisitor and Rook's story.

For context:

Neria is my Lavellan and Solas's twelve-year-old daughter. She is at the Lighthouse because of reasons.

Ren is my Rook. He is my Lavellan's oldest brother.

Solas is busted from the Fade by Rook and Co. Because that is going to happen Bioware.

Neria does not appreciate the strange man who is suddenly in her and her mother's lives.

To Neria, he is the Interloper and must be Stopped.

Stuff happens, and Neria has a change of heart and is willing to give the guy a chance.

However, first, she needs to set some ground rules.

Enasali (who is briefly mentioned) is the Ill-Advised Pre-Veilguard Solavellan Hookup Baby

AKA why it was Varric trying to talk Solas down and not Lavellan.

AKA why Varric has gray hair. Sorry dude.

Neria is too much like her father. I love her.

Neria found him in the library, speaking in low tones to Emmerich and Uncle Ren as they poured over some massive tome. Unnoticed by the three men, Neria used the opportunity to study the bald elf, whom Mamae claimed to be her father. 

He had quite a bit more color since her uncle pulled him out of the Fade. He no longer looked so pale and sickly, and the dark circles under his eyes had started to fade. He still looked tired, to be sure, but it was less somehow. He also stood straighter, taller, as if he had been carrying something heavy on his back and was finally able to relieve his burden. 

There were other things Neria noticed about him as well. Features that were familiar to her. Features that she knew didn’t come from her mother but never truly seemed to realize that they came from someone else. Like how his ears were shaped similarly to her own or how they both had a cleft chin, though hers was noticeably less prominent. 

And then there were the eyes. 

Neria knew that she had her father’s eyes; her mother had told her as much growing up. But it never truly registered with her, until she met the man they called Solas and saw her own grayish purple eyes stare down at her. 

The same grayish purple eyes that were currently watching her intently. 

Apparently, she had been noticed. Great.

“Neria, did you need something? Is everything alright?”, her uncle asked. 

Neria fought the growing urge to run away, and instead crossed her arms and tried to give her best “serious” face, like her Aunt Cassandra wore when she meant business. 

Neria wanted to show that she meant business, too. 

“I wish to speak with Solas,” she said, in her best Aunt-Cassandra-Serious-Business-Voice. Figuring that might have been a little too demanding, she added, “When he has a minute to talk. If that’s ok?”

“Of course,” Solas said, perhaps a little too quickly. Emmerich and Uncle Ren shared a look. Emmerich shrugged.

“Yeah, sure, we could use a bit of a break,” her uncle agreed. He and Emmerich grabbed the book and left the library, her uncle giving her shoulder a small squeeze as he walked by. 

And just like that, Neria found herself alone with her father for the first time in her life.

“You wished to speak with me, Neria?” He asked, gently.

Neria cleared her throat.

“Yes. I wish to parley,” she declared. 

She wasn’t quite sure what she was expecting Solas’s reaction to be. She had figured he would laugh at her and tell her to stop being childish. Or maybe even get angry at her for being so demanding of an adult. What she wasn’t expecting, was for Solas to nod with actual, genuine seriousness. He clasped his hands behind his back, like one of those statues in Orlais of human generals.

“Very well,” he said, before gesturing to one of the many plush chairs seated around the table in the center of the library. “Please, take a seat.”

“Solas, it has come to my attention that I might have been a little bit mean to you.” Then, because she didn’t want to him to think she was going soft, she added, “Just a little bit, though!” 

Solas nodded, solemnly, his face carefully neutral. Neria continued.

“As such,” she said, “I wish to declare a truce.”

Solas’s neutral mask slipped, and Neria noticed the corners of the man’s mouth tick upwards ever so slightly. With his hands folded on the table, he leaned forward so that he was eye level with Neria.

“Ma nuvenin. What are the terms of this potential truce?”

“First; I will not call you ‘Papae’ or ‘Father’.”

“Of course,” Solas agreed, “I would not ask that of you if it made you uncomfortable.”

Neria blinked. This was easier than she thought!

“Um, ok. Good,” she said. “Second term; you will call me Neria and only Neria. No stupid nicknames, like da’vhenan. Ok?”

For a fraction of a second, something flashed in Solas’s eyes. Something that looked a bit like hurt. Or maybe regret? However, it came and went so quickly that Neria wasn’t sure if she actually saw it at all.

He nodded.

“Third; if I want to be left alone, I want you to leave me alone. Ok?”

Once again, Solas nodded. 

“I would not wish to encroach upon your space.”

Neria mirrored her father’s pose, clasping her hands together and laying them on the table in front of her. She didn’t quite strike the same imposing figure as Solas, but, for being twelve, she thought it was close enough. 

“Good,” she declared. “Now, in return, I will permit you to continue to court my Mamae and help her take care of Enasali. But if, and only if, you continue to make Mamae happy.”

Solas’s neutral mask slipped once more and it was obvious he was actively trying not to grin. Neria narrowed her eyes at him, not appreciating the lack of seriousness on his part. Solas coughed and his face went carefully blank once more. 

“Ir abelas,” he said, his voice serious despite the twinkle still in his eyes. “Neria, I promise that I will do everything in my power to make your mother as happy as I possibly can for as long as she will allow me to do so.” 

Now was the part that she didn’t necessarily want to agree on, but she knew it was only fair. It was the whole reason why she was speaking to her father in the first place.

“And finally,” she said, reluctance clear in her voice, “I will do my best to… to give you a chance.”

[dreamedfyre-a]

the concept of a father who sits there while their daughter gives them a makeover with teacups, tiaras, and hard to wash off makeup: but it's cole with helaena and her insects or asking her to teach him needlework. (which he fails at miserably, but he tries his damnedest to impress her with his ugly looking caterpillar.)

@kingmaketh // FATHERS OF WESTEROS TAKE NOTES

a little princess, dragging a white-cloaked knight by the hand to show him a particularly interesting insect she found in the gardens while her queenly mother is busy with needlework (he may not share her enthusiasm, but he never dampens it with disregard); young helaena seeking his help to reach a little specimen she isn't tall enough to catch herself (so trusting that if he cannot get it for her, he will at least help; he never makes her feel silly for asking); helaena sharing with him particularly treasured pieces of her collection (there is this one beetle, larger than the palm of her hand; it comes from dorne, and it's notable for its strength, capable of carrying hundreds of times its own weight — it made her think of him).

young helaena trying to teach him the very same way she was taught, where to start and how to hold the needle and laughing when he doesn't get it quite right from the start because how can a little needle be more difficult to handle than the swords she can't even lift? and if he struggles she will be sure to say it's okay it's very hard at first my stitches were all crooked in the beginning because it's true and because she doesn't want him to be upset (she was upset a lot in the beginning, when what she could do and what she meant to do didn't align very well). maybe it takes some time for her to understand just what he's trying to do, but when she does and when it's done he'd receive the brightest smile (there are no ugly caterpillars. she loves it. she will treasure it forever).

little helaena bringing him gifts, as little girls are wont to do. there is a drawing (and then a thousand others; but this one shows her family, mother with baby daeron and ser criston and aegon and aemond and herself); there are flowers (pretty and picked from the garden; they say she can't do it and chastise her for getting dirty, but they are pretty and she wanted to make ser criston smile); there is an embroidered handkerchief (it has a sword and his initials and it's not at all steadily or beautifully crafted. just the work of a little girl doing her best — but there are other things as she grows, perfected with practice. by the time she's a teenager no one really questions the fact the princess will sometimes gift her mother's sworn protector a belt or some other such piece she spent hours embroidering, as it's simply what she has always done); there is at the very least one very interesting insect. this is the greatest honor, of course. little helaena doesn't gift these to just anyone.

helaena doesn't really want to fight with a sword (nor does she need to; ser criston has always protected them, and her brothers will too when they grow up) but she likes to watch them practice, and if anyone asks her what a knight is or for one perfect example, the little princess is sure to point at cole. she's not afraid of dragons, easier to understand and more honest, but she is often afraid of people; helaena hiding behind him, little hands grabbing the edge of his white cloak when someone gets too close, or reaching for his hand when, for whatever reason, others make her feel unsafe.

the princess asking for stories, as children often do with their parents. listening attentively to any tale he chooses to share, be it fantastical invention of his own or retold from those he knows. helaena asking about the place he is from, genuine in her curiosity and her interest (and her wish they could go visit). her own tales woven in part from his, many years later, when it's the twins' turn to ask her for stories.

[thegeminisage]

it's tng update time.

we did. and you know this. because i made. i counted. 18 posts about it. "half a life." and of course: "the host" (honorific).

half a life: part of what makes the ep after this so wonderful is that THIS episode was so genuinely upsetting. it was a huge bummer. it was awful. the only fucking episode lwaxana troi has been in that cathy actually watched and she had a valid character arc. i was furious. and then we got into it and i was like. oh.

first of all, kudos to charles winchester from mash for being here. cathy caught a 4077 ref that i missed bc i wasnt paying attention. i cant believe he was gay when he did this

secondly. the fucking. ethical implications of. people who are infirm should be dead for their children's sake and for their own sake. like it's better to be dead than in a nursing home. when you're 60 time's up. parents care for their children so children should care for their parents. your aging parents are mortal and they'll die one day. your daughter wants you to kill yourself. you want to die and can't wait to kill yourself. you don't want to live and then you do want to live but you still have to kill yourself. you're 60. you're 60. YOUR DAUGHTER WANTS YOU TO KILL YOURSELF. when she is 60 your daughter WILL ALSO KILL HERSELF.

i think the most fucked up part of this was that lwaxana ruined him. she meant well, and for once i saw her point and her arguments as totally valid (i usually think she's horrible), it was like maybe the only semi-selfless thing she's ever done aside from the ferengi business we will not be discussing. but she ruined him. when he was fine with dying and he had to die, fine and whatever. when he wanted to live?? no longer fine. if he lives his people will hate him forever. his daughter will regret him living because he can't be laid to rest in the family plot. because he can't die with his friends and family surrounding him. but he's 60. people live to be well over a hundred in the star trek universe, other aliens live even longer. he's SIXTY. he's healthy. he has work to do. a planet to save. and he's gonna die knowing his work meant nothing and his planet might die and his grandson may have nowhere to grow up. live or die, he will be miserable either way, just because he was introduced to a different way of life. it's SO fucked up

i think i had more to say about this after it ended but i have clean forgotten all of it. like it's been blasted out of my memory which is probably for the best. the short version is, i am living at home taking care of my mother who turned 58 three days ago. i didn't need any of that.

but then.

But Then.

the host: what can i possibly. i mean. the sheer. the fucking

like the fucking MOOD WHIPLASH alone

i had heard of this episode years ago. so i knew beverly's bf was a parasite and he eventually jumped into a woman and i was made to believe she was super homophobic about it. i was prepared to look completely past all of this and enjoy not-quite-gay SUBTEXT. i was NOT prepared for ANY of the rest of it

to get this out of the way: as i said, though i miss wesley very much (ask catherine i say so like every episode) it's so fortunate that he was not here. i think bev finally hit menopause because her horny levels were CRITICALLY off the charts and this whole debacle would have been so awkward for him. i'm glad he sent her a letter god bless i'm so glad he's fine wherever he is

the BABY BUMP THIS GUY HAD. this i was not expecting. i didn't know we were doing pregnant men in this episode. i figured the entire episode would be about beverly being like "this is weird cuz idw fuck you now that you're a woman" i had no idea his ass would jump into RIKER

riker did amazing bg work in this ep too before he got to star. he gave beverly and her bf some KNOWING looks. at one point the following exchange was uttered: "HE knows they're fucking." "yeah he wishes it was him." apollo and the dodgeball.....

the fact that after that i literally did have the thought "yeah except he'd never fuck beverly. she's one of the few people who are off limits." lisa simpson dot jpg

and then riker's pregnancy, what can one say. beverly put a little worm in his body. i'm only sad we didn't get to see the baby bump because that would have been extremely funny

i spent the whole ep thinking no way can beverly fuck riker. they have to work together. she has to look him in the eye after this. AND THEN THEY DID.

like it's so insane. it's not even that i dislike the concept because the fallout could lead to some extremely meaty interpersonal drama except for the fact that star trek generally isn't about interpersonal drama and we didn't see riker again after he got possessed. we didn't get one word from him. the silence seems so calculated so as to avoid having to write his reaction. BUT I WANTED HIS REACTION. will he not tell us how it feels to be possessed and pregnant and FUCKING BEVERLY CRUSHER? genuinely this is the first time i've been tempted to look up tng fic. someone tell me there is fic

also, like, he only had 18 hours until he got a new body. she could have waited to fuck the new guy if she felt weird about it being riker. SHE didn't know the knew guy was gonna be a woman. like it had to be menopause

the fact that deanna condoned this, even suggested it, is INSANE. not only because she didn't consider riker's ability, or lack of ability, to consent, but because THAT'S HER BOYFRIEND. quasi-boyfriend. sometimes exes sometimes fwb. like it's NUTS.

their discussion was so wild too. like "what do i miss...his hands, his mouth...no, there was more than that" girl they were 5 more minutes away from discovering the split attraction model. actually i don't even normally like the split attraction model but this episode made me like it a little more. growth <3

actually on that subject quasi-exes are weirdly chill with each other on this show. picard and beverly are kinda dating and kinda not, the same way deanna and riker kind of are and kind of aren't. and picard is like...beverly whatever else i am to you i'm also your friend and i know this fucking sucks. do you want a hug. like that is SO chill and cool of him. and ik they probably do this bc they don't want to have to maintain character development but it winds up accidentally feeling really refreshing

anyway: The Woman

i can't believe that beverly can fuck riker, her "sort of "brother," but not this hot blonde lady. and i know it's because they can't be gay but ACTUALLY

i was SHOCKED that gender didn't come into it at all. like yes it was the elephant in the room but nowhere in beverly's dialogue did she say she couldn't do this because odan was a woman now. copypasting:

"Perhaps it is a human failing, but we are not accustomed to these kinds of changes. I can't keep up. How long will you have this host? What would the next one be? I can't live with that kind of uncertainty. Perhaps, someday, our ability to love won't be so limited."

NONE OF THAT MENTIONS GENDER. none!!! the only part that could be interpreted as a gender thing was when beverly said bring HIM in, and was smiling bc she was about to meet the new version of her bf, only for her smile to drop when she encountered a woman. you could sort of read it as "a woman will be even weirder than riker and i just don't have it in me to go through that acclimation process again" BUT LIKE. like she's CHOOSING not to. not that she couldn't eventually adjust. to a woman. beverly just found out she's bisexual fr

like the wrist kiss was SO SENSUAL. LIKE WHAT THE FUCK. i can't believe they let two women do that on tv in 1991. holy shit. AND!!! they said i love you to each other. i did quite literally stand up out of my seat. it feels very progressive considering when it was written

and like it's a shame this was in the same episode where riker gets knocked up bc that distracted from the entire gay thing. i WISH the whole episode had been odan in a woman's body and riker had had his own episode to do all of that in later. like it would've been incredible. sexuality is fluid <3

anyway. wow. next time: "the mind's eye" and "in theory," two episodes i already feel sorry for because they will Never live up to all of that.

[sweet---chaos]

Arella rambles !!

I need to yap about her I will literally explode if I don't /hj

@pastel-rights (Hiii 🙋🏼‍♀️ I thought you'd like to read my silly thoughts + Cas is mentioned teehee <3)

ARELLAAA

she means so much to me.. I get emotional when it comes to her and I've just. AHHHH

I've been having many thoughts and I wanna talk about her backstory and her relationships, both with herself and with other people </3

Trigger Warnings: Death/Missing people, Controlling/Manipulative behavior, Pills/Medication being used for the wrong reasons

(More under the cut bc I have a feeling this is gonna be very long once I'm done)

Before I start rambling here's her backstory (I tried to shorten it but I'm bad at doing that 😔)

Arella had best friend named Genevieve/Gen. When she was 8, Gen died at 11 from sickness. Arella didn't handle the grief well, and after Gen's mom disappeared, children started going missing too.

Cherry (Arella's mom) moves her to someplace safer (the town they're from becomes abandoned).

Noticing her daughter's grief becoming worse as the months pass, Cherry takes her to see a psychiatrist.. Said psychiatrist is a manipulative, money-hungry bastard, and convinces Cherry to give Arella a pill that is meant to "fix" her. Spoiler alert, the medicine doesn't "fix" her at all.

Of course, Cherry is desperate to help her daughter and starts giving her the medicine anyways. The medicine causes Arella's memory of her childhood to become foggy, and soon she no longer remembers Genevieve or anything else that happened.

Years go by, Arella is not having a fun time. She is constantly made fun of for being so forgetful, and finds it hard to make friends let alone anything more than that. Despite knowing this, Cherry continues giving her the medicine, slowly becoming obsessed with the idea of protecting Arella.

Arella is finally allowed to have a job, and works as a library assistant. She finds it surprisingly easy to fit in, and becomes good friends with the owner's daughter ,Darli, who ends up being like the sister she never had.

At some point Arella is kidnapped by a cult, where she meets her future boyfriend, Cas (I genuinely don't know when this fits into the timeline, but for now I'm going with within the first six months she starts working at the library </3)

Being away from home forces Arella to go without the medicine. She starts having these what she at first assumed to be hallucinations popping up in her head whenever she thought too hard. They weren't hallucinations however, they were memories.

When she returns to the library, months pass and she finds a book while stocking the shelves. Something about the town on it seems familiar. After a bit of her own research, she finds out it's where she's actually from. And this slowly leads to her uncovering some things part of her wishes she hadn't, including the truth about the medicine.

She tries to confront her mother about all of this, but is brushed off and told she was thinking too much and should just keep taking the pills.

Arella, after mulling it over for days, decides enough is enough, packs her things, and leaves to find the truth herself. She goes to the abandoned town, to her old childhood home. And while at first she once again thinks she's hallucinating, the ghosts in that house are very much real. And one of them, has a very familiar name: Genevieve.

OKAY backstory over now it's time to yap /hj

Arella.. has struggled immensely when it comes to how she views herself. She's always felt like something was wrong with her. When people are constantly dumbing you down to being nothing but a dumb, niave blonde, it becomes difficult to think of yourself as anything more than that. You can try and make yourself look different, even going as far as to dye most of your hair red. But the words people have told you for so long will, undoubtedly stick inside your head.

Arella's name means "Angel", which makes the entire "dumb, niave blonde" thing sadder. Angels, in most forms of art and literature, are seen as beings of innocence and purity. While Arella does seem innocent, she is far from it. Her mind harbors more than even she understands, and her frustration and grief over how "broken" she feels grows more and more with each passing day. But no matter how much she has tried to explain this, even to her own mother, no one seems to understand.

Before she met Cas, she was told over and over again that she was "too stupid to love". Even if those words never came from her mother, and rather from classmates and complete strangers alike, they've always hung in the back of her mind, being one of the handful of things she couldn't forget. She saw no point in even trying to feel anything beyond platonic for anyone, thinking that no one could possibly see her that way. Now she's been proven very wrong. Very, very wrong. She always thought of herself as exactly what everyone said: "too stupid to love", but now she has something she never imagined she would have.

Arella is.. a lot more smitten with Cas than she can put into words. At least, verbally. She's definitely written a poem or two about him.. or three.. maybe even more than than that.

She'd be embarrassed if anyone found out about them. I can just imagine Genevieve finding them and then asking a million questions about Cas LMAO.

"RELLY you have a boyfriend???! What's he like?? Is he pretty?? Have you guys ki-"

"Genevieve, Genevieve.. please.. its two in the morning.. But yes to all of those now let me sleep-"

":D"

"....."

"... Wait a second."

Genevieve is so silly. Silly ghost child.

Genevieve becomes like a younger sister to Arella. Especially once Arella remembers everything. Genevieve finds this funny considering she was three years older than Arella when she died.

Okay now I wanna talk about Arella's relationship with Cherry because it's uh. It's complicated.

Cherry herself is a.. complex character, with her own trauma and reasons for doing things. While her experiences don't excuse what she did, they definitely give insight to what was going on inside her head.

The worst part of all of this, is Cherry WAS a good mom. At one point, before everything happened. She wasn't controlling, and wasn't obsessed with protecting her daughter. She used to be the mom everyone deserves. But after everything, her desperation to protect Arella became an obsession. And while she thought she was doing a good thing by giving Arella those pills to make her forget the grief of losing her best friend, that grief was slowly replaced with a different kind of grief. The grief of feeling out of place. Of feeling "broken".

Arella knows Cherry was manipulated too. She knows the healthcare system is partial to blame for all of this, and does feel some ounce of sympathy for her mother desire the pain she caused her. Which is why her choice to never forgive Cherry for what she's done was a.. very difficult one. She does understand Cherry's reasons, and because of that she can't bring herself to say she hates her. But what she's done is irredeemable in Arella's eyes, no matter if she had good intentions. Forgiveness isn't an option for Arella, as much as it hurts her to say. Especially with the knowledge that Cherry was, at one time, the best mother in the world.

I think I'm done rambling now, there's probably so much more I could say but I'm exhausted 😔

Arella is so <333 I love her so much. The pretty [traumatized] poet.

[charnelhouse]

my heart in your hands

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader Wordcount: 2.5K Warnings: descriptions of giving birth. rough smut. lactation kink. daddy kink. some blood. cum play. squirting ish. INSANE FLUFF (this is SO not me). Summary: You give birth and all the rest. A/N: This is follow up to you became all the things I wished for

“I’m going to fucking kill you,” you growl at him. 

Din Djarin has been genuinely frightened maybe five times in his life. He watches you on the white med bed. Your hair plastered to your brow. Your expression is screwed up into agony. There are all sorts of fluids - streams of pink and red making rivers on sterile sheets. 

He has never felt this scared - this out of control. Your fingers tighten around his hand - crushing it to splintered pain. He can’t even feel it. 

“You’re going to have to push,” the doctor tells you.

“I am fucking pushing,” you snap as you cling to Din. You peer up at him - tears flooding your eyes. It makes him die a little. “Tell him - tell him I’m pushing.”

“She’s pushing,” Din grunts. It rolls cold and calculating through his modulator. He hopes it gathers all of the inflection of i will fucking end you if something goes wrong. 

The doctor blanches and hunches back between your open legs. Din lowers his helmet to the top of your head, soothing you the best he can. He hates that he has his helmet on. He hates that he can’t brush his mouth over your temple - transport the heat of himself into you. 

“You’re doing so well, mesh’la,” he murmurs. “Just a little more. I know it fucking hurts. You’re the strongest person I know. I’m so proud of you.”

You don’t seem to hear him because you scrunch your face up and hiss: “I’m never fucking you again.”

“Alright,” he replies. “That’s fair, pretty.”

Minutes pass - seconds - inches - the doctor announces the crowning and you scream as you break Din’s fingers and then there’s a sharp cry. The doctor lifts the squalling, squirming bundle of flesh and Din exhales for the first time since he stepped in here.

The infant blinks at him with big, brown eyes - his eyes.

“Congratulations,” the doctor says. “It’s a girl.”

**

Din stares in awe as they rest the baby on your breast. She’s beautiful - small and flushed and wet as she watches her mother between half-closed lids.

You’ve burst into tears - snuggling the baby close - kissing her brow as the nurse droid teaches you how to latch. 

“Wait,” your murmur. “Wait - let’s give her to her father.”

Din steps back - shaking his head. “I’m - I’m in my armor right now, sweet girl.”

He’s so fucking nervous - so uncertain. Everyone in this damn Med Center has given him strange, bizarre looks. He knows that he stands out like a silver-gleaming slash - razor-sharp and yelling death - in every single room. He is not blood-pumping, smooth skin - he is not meant for soft things.

“No,” you protest as you wrap a pink blanket around the infant. You hold her up to him, smiling brightly - smiling with so much damn trust that it hurts him. “She needs to feel her daddy as he is..” before you add. “...in his Beskar.”

Din croaks - his throat thick as he struggles to swallow. He gingerly lifts the swaddle of blankets to his chest - tilting his helmet down to stare at his tiny daughter. She gurgles - her cheek rubbing up against his cool, shiny steel. Her lips curve upward - pink gums and a the dart of a tongue. 

“She’s smiling,” Din mutters - stunned. 

The droid turns to him - its voice blunt and glitched. “Babies actually cannot smil - “

“Shut up,” you warn before beaming at Din. “She is - she loves you.”

Din’s heart pounds in his chest - grows ten sizes. He lifts his visor to you. “When’d you get so soft?” he teases - taken aback at his warrior-girl who never went for sentiment. 

You collapse into your pillows - grimacing at the ache and the leftover pain. He really did owe you a new vibroblade.

“I’ve - I’ve always been soft,” you defend, picking at your blanket. “I think she just brought it out.”

Of course, he thinks. Of course.

It’s like magic. It’s a turn of the moon. It’s new love - different love - the kind he feels for Grogu - the kind he feels for you - and this squirming infant with his eyes.

**

They name her Zara. 

Grogu handles her with patient fingers. He watches as the baby nurses from you - touching her cheek and babbling up at you. 

“Yes, Grogu,” you say seriously. “She knows exactly what you mean.”

Greef sets them up in a house in town. It makes sense. They can’t spend weeks on Din’s ship with a brand new baby. They’ll have to figure out the future later - the place they should settle - the fate of each of their careers. Din isn’t sure if he can let you hunt.

It’s not his decision. He knows that he can’t just keep you home and safe, but he’d prefer it if you didn’t. He knows that controlling you is like trying to cuff the wind - it’s impossible - it’s pointless. He loves you too much anyway. 

**

You spoil Grogu. You go to the market in town and come home with armfuls of blue cookies and carved wooden creatures and bottles of bubbly fruit-juice. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Grogu is going to feel left out now that he isn’t the only kid,” you sniff. “He needs to be reminded that he’s still loved.”

Din could say that Grogu has you wrapped around his claws. He does. He knows exactly how to work you and has done so since before you even got pregnant. He coos and reaches for you and you melt - crushing him to your chest and kissing him while you sneak him too many snacks.

But Din knows not to correct you. You’re hormonal and exhausted and stretched thin. 

Din just asks what do you need and then shuts up.

**

As the months pass, Zara begins to cry for Din. She pushes her chubby cheek against his helmet - leaving streaks of milk-wet drool across the surface - fisting her baby-hands into his cape. She’s seen him both in and out of his armor and knows both of them as her father. 

He’s struck dumb with love. He has never thought himself capable of handling a baby - of having a daughter with her fluffy hair and pink puckered lips. Her brilliant brown eyes that blink owlishly up at him as he shows her his weapons. 

He’s still hard in places - still dark in the lower parts of himself that harbor all of his hunter aggression. The streaks of his Mandalorian education.

 He takes that out on you - in the bedroom - because you ask for it.

“Fuck, Djarin,” you hiss as he sucks your clit between his lips. “Fuck - just - take me right now. I want your cock.”

“You’re gonna end up pregnant again,” he grins as he stuffs three of his fingers inside you, hooking them up and prodding into something spongy before pushing down on your belly. He angles everything just right - stretching his fingers over your stomach so he can roll your clit in sweet little circles. You shoot up on your elbows - thighs trembling around his ears as you just gush into his open mouth. 

It’s filthy - their sex has gone all primal. Din feels for you in ways that make him lose his head. He’d watched you have his baby - watched you struggle through it and then spend your days and nights taking care of her - feeding her - singing to her in old Mando’a to teach Zara his culture. 

You don’t pronounce any of the words right, but you try so hard that it makes Din want you in a way that he cannot even understand. He wants to devour you - bury himself inside you until they are simply one and they cannot be parted or disentangled or torn apart.

Din knows this - in his blood and in his bones - that if he ever lost you he would chase you across planets and hyperspace. He would go beyond life and death to be with you.

The intimacy has broken the ceiling - has floated right up into the brilliant stars of the galaxy where Din’s love just keeps growing. 

He sits on the edge of the bed. He draws you into his lap, smearing the head of his cock through your folds, catching it on your swollen bundle of nerves as you arch into him. You’re a sight - messy hair and glossy in sweat - your tits heavy with milk as he licks a stripe between them.

“Can I?” he asks - low and heavy. His balls are tight with need - he wants to slam himself inside you - bruise you up. But he also wants to taste you. 

You nod, lifting your breast and feeding it to him. He latches to your nipple - purring when the warm lash of milk spills over his tongue. He doesn’t know if this is wrong or dirty. It feels different - it feels like a true desire - to drink from you like he’s savoring your lips or your puffy cunt. He’s done it with your blood - with your cum and spit. This is another way to be as close as he can - to imbibe the girl of his dreams - his life.

You grind on his thighs - scraping your hands through his hair and tugging it gently as you crush his face into your breast. He grips your waist - lifting you slightly so he can angle his hips and spear you on his cock. 

You groan - another flood of sweet milk down his throat as you start to move on top of him. He releases your nipple and you maneuver his face up to yours - kissing him open-mouthed and desperate so you can lick away your slick and milk that paints his tongue.

“Perfect girl,” he praises. “Does that feel good? Riding my cock like this?”

You nod. He lowers his gaze so he can watch your gorgeous cunt swallow him whole - he uses his fingers to peel back the hood, to curl his thumb over and flick your bud - making you pulse with knotted pleasure.

“Din,” you cry out. “Shit - just like that.”

He makes you cum - your walls spasming around his length as you dig your nails into the muscles of his shoulders. He eases himself out before tossing you on the bed and getting you on all fours. He cracks his palm across your ass - feeling it jiggle in his hand. He spreads your cheeks - letting himself see the work he’s done to your swollen, soaked sex. It’s all blushed up from his actions - from the ferocity that he’s used it. He traces his fingers through your folds - smirks as your hole flutters around his fingers and you rock forward trying to grind down on his hand.

“Aw you desperate little thing,” he marvels. “You need it, huh?”

“Din,” you growl. “Don’t be a tease. The baby is gonna wake up soon.”

Oh. Right.

The only difference to their sex now is that it’s pushed into the lull between feedings and naps. He’ll be mid-thrust and Zara’s cries explode from her room and one of them has to scramble to go get her. 

They’re still struggling with parenting - still unsure if what they’re doing is right - if going to her every time she cries is the appropriate thing to do. 

He takes his cock between his fingers - pushing it through your slit - gently nudging the head against the peak of your sex as you shudder - as your pussy leaks and drips and begs for him.

“You want me to fuck you?” he murmurs. “Want me to take you hard? Make it rough?”

You shoot him a lusty expression over your shoulder - a smug smile full of innuendo and Din pauses - unsure of what you’re up to. You shove your face into your pillow and slam your ass back into him, nearly knocking him off the bed as you purr: “Yes, daddy, do it.”

Maker.  You fucking knew what that word did to him.

He snarls before he positions his cock at your entrance and then slams himself to the hilt. It jerks you forward - makes you whimper as his balls brush up against your swelling pussy. He leans forward to gather your hair in his hands - drawing it back so your spine curves up like a pretty little bridge. 

And then he fucks you - fucks you frantic and hard - angling himself so that each punch of his cock hits something devastating inside you. You try to anchor yourself against the sheets - muffling your moans into the bed. He plants his knees - taking you in precise, long strokes - gripping your hair with one hand and your hip with another. He snaps into you with abandon - with a feral energy that has claimed him ever since he saw you birth their kid. 

It’s so fucking wet - the echo of his length sliding through the remnants of your orgasm - your pussy sucking him deep with loud squelches. Your ass bounces against his groin and he spreads you open - dragging his cock all the way out, head catching on the rim, so he can spit on it - before ramming it back inside you. 

You cum again - suddenly - explosively - your lower muscles tightening as your pussy bears down on him - choking his dick and making his eyes nearly roll back. 

It’s so much. The sounds and sensations. The image of you stretched out on their bed as he possesses you in every way he can. It’s a relief - a strange relief - to know that he can still fuck you with such brutality and still understand that their love is tender - is trusting - is brilliant and sweet. 

He hits his climax - leveraging his weight above you - knuckles curled around your shoulder as he yanks you down on his pulsing cock. He fills you with ropey strands of his seed - grinding his body into your ass as hard as he can to keep it inside you.

He’s drained - nearly pushed all the way to exhaustion. You lurch when he pulls himself out of you - his fingertips dancing through the mess he’s left.

He collapses beside you - tugging you flush against his heaving chest. 

“How was that?” he asks as he kisses your hair.

“So fucking good,” you hum appreciatively, winding your ankle around his own. Your tone drops - goes lusty and indulgent as you finish it off with: “Daddy.”

He wrestles you into the mattress - his tongue muffling your laughter - his cock already half-hard.

**

“C’mon, Zara,” Din croons. He’s down on his knees - arms spread as he reaches for his daughter. You’re balancing Grogu on your hip - a place he has decided is fully his despite the fact that there is another baby.

Zara smiles at him - eyes scrunching. Tiny white nubs for teeth. She gingerly lifts herself - toddling on fat little legs as she stumbles toward Din’s hands. She makes it two or three steps before he catches her, sweeping her up and praising her through his helmet.

“Look how well you did,” he crows. “Look at that!”

Zara collapses into giggles, curling into Din’s chest which has decidedly become her favorite spot in the galaxy. 

You move toward them, pinching Zara’s cheek as she grabs at your wrist. You tilt your chin up to stare at Din, your eyes serious and meaningful and full of warmth that knocks Din flat.

“You’re a really good father,” you declare - caressing the side of his helmet as you would his cheek. “You’re the fucking best.”

Din’s throat gets thick - the scratch of wet at his eye that he thought quite impossible. He finds himself unable to respond - unable to find the words.

It seems he doesn’t have to.

You do it for him - as usual - knowing exactly when to fill the gaps between them. You kiss the crown of Zara’s head as you stroke Grogu’s ears. “Who would have thought, huh?”

Din laughs.

Part Three

[squidgamesmut]

Imagine Ga-yeong telling her mom that you and Gi-hun love each other

"Did you know that dad went on a date with (Y/n)?"

You clenched your hands into fists to keep down the embarrassment building up in your chest.

"Beg your pardon?" you heard Ga-yeong's mother respond.

"Dad and (Y/n) are in love with each other."

A beat of silence. "I see." said your employer, and you could practically sense the frown that fell over her face. "I was already wondering what had gotten him so chipper lately."

Ga-yeong cuddled against her mother, giggling a little. "Mommy, do you think that dad and (Y/n) are a nice couple? I think they are! They make each other really happy!"

You flinched, shrinking back in your chair, pretending to be preoccupied with the book in your hands. Perhaps that the topic was still a sore spot, despite Ga-yeong's mother being remarried and having a son with her new spouse.

"Well, your father seems like a person even I didn't know. Perhaps that they are a better match then me and your dad have ever been."

There was something that sounded like guilt in her voice. Your relationship with Ga-yeong's mom was friendly, but she never spoke positively about her addicted ex. No matter how much he had changed, she could only see the man he was no longer.

Maybe that was different - she parted from him once he got into his troubles. You found him when he was at his lowest and built him up, loving him for whoever he truly was, no matter his addiction. What had caused her despise against him had not scared you off.

Ga-yeong's mother felt plenty emotions at once, but the one that stuck was something that felt like awe. Ga-yeong was right. You made each other really happy, and it was a good thing that you made Gi-hun happier than anyone else ever could.

Meeting you had changed him into a better man, and even the young Ga-yeong could see her father's happiness.

It was meant to be.

And so Ga-yeong's mother stated to her daughter: "Yes, sweetheart. I think your father and (Y/n) are a really sweet couple, and I'm happy for them."

It was genuine, and it made your heart swell with happiness, your head fuzzy with the thought of Gi-hun.

You checked your watch, seeing that it was almost time to go home. You set aside your book, standing from your chair, wishing Ga-yeong's stepfather a good night before joining the other two people in the hallway.

"It's time for me to leave, sadly." you stated, which caused Ga-yeong to pout and hug you close. "But don't be sad, I will be back soon."

Your employer hugged her cardigan a bit tighter around her body, smiling at the sweet scene unfolding, at how you caressed her daughter's dark hair and kissed the top of her head as a goodbye.

"Thank you for looking after her, (Y/n)."

You nodded at the woman, smiling kindly. "Of course. You know I love her."

"I love you too, (Y/n)!" Ga-yeong mused, "And you love my daddy!"

You blushed, eyes shooting up to your lover's ex, but she held no animosity in her eyes. She momentarily looked at her husband, who took the cue to take Ga-yeong to her bedroom and leave you two to talk a bit.

"Goodnight (Y/n)!"

"Goodnight sweetheart!"

The young girl waved at you and you blew her a kiss, to which she giggled and blew one back. You caught it into your fist and pretended to stuff it into your pocket, "To keep for later." you told her, to which she responded: "You can give that one to my dad!"

You smiled fondly when she disappeared from your field of view, suddenly abashed upon standing in front of your employer whilst she knew that you were dating her ex-husband. It was not forbidden or out of the question in any way or form, but it caused you to grow anxious nevertheless.

"I'm happy for you." Ga-yeong's mother stated, smiling at you. "Don't worry. I am not holding it against you. I was once in love with him too, but back then, he was different. I can see how different he is now that you are around. How he blossoms. How you bring the best out of him. You've got my blessing."

You beamed with a smile, bowing your head slightly. "Thank you." you whispered. "Thank you so much."

"No, I should thank you." said she, her eyes shimmering gently. "For you are bringing out the father in him that Ga-yeong needs. She's infatuated with the very idea of you two, and that's what matters. Her happiness is all that's important."

You couldn't do anything else but agree with that, for your love for the young girl ran deep, as if she were your own.

You reached for your coat when you heard a car honk in the distance, and you said goodbye to Ga-yeong's parents, leaving the apartment with haste.

The familiar car of Gi-hun awaited you. You approached it, your heart skipping a beat when you saw the joyful face of Gi-hun appear through the window. Quickly going in, you enjoyed being in his presence again.

"Good evening, my love." he said, and you keened at the nickname, reaching over to touch his hand.

"Good evening, Gi-hun."

"Had a good night?" he queried, reaching over to tuck some hair behind your ear. Of course he wanted to know - why could you ever be beaming with such happiness?

"Absolutely." you stated, "Ga-yeong was a sweetheart, and her mother has given us her blessing."

"She did?" Gi-hun said in disbelief, a grin tugging at his lips. "Oh, that's wonderful."

You hummed shyly, rubbing your neck. "And another thing... Ga-yeong told me to bring you a kiss she blew."

Gi-hun's brown eyes shimmered in the dim light of the street lanterns.

"A kiss?"

"Hmmm... She is definitely going to ask you if I brought it."

He leaned closer, gazing at your lips. "I'd rather have a kiss from you."

You laughed lightly, utterly content whilst you closed the gap between you, putting a hand on his cheek before pressing your mouth against his.

Snogging him deeply, you found yourself daydreaming about what future lay ahead, consisting out of giving Ga-yeong another half-sibling or two.

[cybervesna]

Affiliation and Affinity Record: Vincent “V” Giovanna

- “Fate is a fickle mistress.”  [Template by @arcandoria ]

Data entry below: 

HANAKO ARASAKA: Anyone who knows about this romance no matter the side will agree that “Love is blindness”. Maybe Vincent missed several flags red as Hanako’s bloody lipstick, but he knows his feelings are genuine. It’s not like he chosen to fell in love with Corpo Princess; it’s not like he didn’t try to forget about her and move on... But there he was... Loving Hanako Arasaka more than Johnny Silverhand hates Saburo. 

JACKIE WELLES: Brother from another mother. Jackie literally treated him like a little bro, making Vincent feel like he isn’t alone in this world anymore. Like he has family again. A feeling that touched his heart and almost destroyed him when Jackie was gone. Demise of his best friend is the reason why Vincent is resistant to cheat death himself and let Hanako save his own life. 

PANAM PALMER: Their relationship was... Clearly complicated. The start was rocky, but they builded trust between each other. That trust later leaded to some tension but at the end of the day Panam was to him more of a sister than a lover. He and Panam settled as friends which really turned out to be the best outcome for them. They continued their adventures, and quickly became best friends, and from there the way to “family” was an easy ride. 

WIOSNA BLAZKOWICZ: Another unexpected contact on Vincent’s friends list. Wiosna - or rather Spring as he calls her - helped him during the Massacre at Arasaka Tower. She was the second ace up Hanako’s sleeve (he was the first one after all). Since then they crossed paths usually in rather extreme situations but she never disappointed him which leaded to forming bond of trust between them.   ROGUE AMENDIARES: Never in his life Vincent thought he would get a chance to learn from the legend herself. Despite infamous start on the Merc’s market, V quickly proven himself in front of Rogue and became her best guy for hire. Other than that being a third wheel for Johnny’s and Rogue romance exposed some tension between them too, but neither of them talk about how they resolved the issue.  JOHNNY SILVERHAND: Both of them have no clue what they thinking about each other. Johnny empathizes with V and is even sorry for the situation they were stuck in, but at the same time he wishes him death every time his mind invades an idea of making love to Saburo Arasaka’s daughter.  SABURO ARASAKA: The only reason either of them is alive is because they don’t want to make Hanako sad. He never respected him, but everything became personal the moment he started to be with Hanako. Vincent would happily roleplay Yorinobu at Konpeki Plaza if that meant his love was finally free. 

[starks-hero]

What He Doesn't Know Won't Hurt Him

Pairing: Loki x Stark!Reader

Summary: You and Loki had been doing a fairly decent job at keeping your relationship a secret from the other members of the team, specifically your father. But what happens when word finally gets out?

Word Count: 4,480

Warnings: fluff, implied smut, angst

a/n: This gif, that is all

You had your music playing at full volume as you worked your way around the lab, your latest suit laid out on the table. It was almost finished and you were more than impressed with how it had turned out.

Grabbing one of the many tools strewn out on the tabletop, you got to work assuring each circuit was in place.

It was fair to say that whilst you were in one of your zones, you could easily get lost in your work. Which was probably the reasons you hadn't noticed Loki make his way into the lab.

You jumped slightly when two slender arms wrapped around your middle. “Loki,” you scolded, not taking your eyes away from your work. “I'm busy.”

He chuckled. “I can see that, dove,” he purred. “But I'm bored.”

“You're welcome to stay here as long as you stay out of my way,” you offered, smirking when Loki rose his hands innocently.

“You won't even know I'm here.”

You managed to steal five minutes of peace. And then Loki's ability to sit still and not cause trouble seemed to reach its end. He started simply, standing ridiculously close, running his hand along your side. Your frustrated sigh and visible struggle to focus on your suit only egged him on. He re-positioned himself behind you, hands resting on your hips and lips finding your neck.

When one of his hands began to trace down your stomach and towards the waistband of your jeans you drew the line.

“Loki, stop.” you chided urgently. “Not here.”

“Why not?” he asked, nipping at the exposed skin of your neck. “It's as good a place as any.”

“Someone could see,” you pressed on.

Loki’s kissing ceased but he didn't remove his arms from around you. If anything he held you tighter.

“And would that be such a bad thing?” he asked after a beat of silence. You sighed and turned in his arms, now facing the god. His eyes said it all, he wasn't hurt, but he was tired of keeping up this charade.

He hated having to wait till you were both alone to show his affection, having to settle for stolen kisses and subtle glances all in an attempt to keep your relationship a secret from the rest of the team. Loki was growing sick of it. He wanted to hold you, kiss you, mark you, to show everyone you belonged to him. He hated having to hide his feelings as if they weren’t acceptable.

“Loki, we've talked about this. If the team finds out, especially my dad, it'll cause nothing but trouble.” You frowned at Loki's defeated expression. “I want to tell them, I do. I love you and I want everyone to know that. But only when the time is right.”

Loki nodded, a smile tugging at his lips. Slender fingers wrapping around your wrist and he placed a kiss to your hand. “As you wish, darling.”

Loki turned to leave but you gently grasped hold of his sleeve and tugged him back. “Where do you think you're going?”

Loki tilted his head. “You said-”

“I said I wasn't ready to tell them,” you clarified. “I never said anything about you leaving.”

A devilish smirked spread across Loki's lips as he stepped back towards you, hands grasping your waist. “Why of course, my dear.” He pushed you against the cool steel of the table. “How may I be of service to you?”

You pulled him into a hungry kiss and he practically moaned into your mouth. Grasping hold of your thighs, he hoisted you up onto the table and slotted himself snugly between your legs. Truth be told, this wasn't what you had in mind. You were serious when you said the lab wasn't a good place to start something but Loki was just too irresistible. His kisses trailed from your jaw down your neck and you couldn't help the whimper that left your lips as he sucked on the sweet spot just above your collar bone.

Your hand tangled in his raven hair and he laughed breathlessly against your skin as he pulled you closer to him. “That's it, pet.”

The sudden sound of someone clearing their throat caused both of you to almost jump out of your skin. You turned towards the lab door and found a rather unimpressed Natasha standing in the threshold, arms crossed and glare seething into a certain god.

Your heart jumped into your throat as you hurriedly pushed Loki away and scrambled to your feet.

“Oh, no. Don't stop on my account,” Nat snarled and the venom in her tone was enough to send shivers down even Loki's spine.

“Nat! We were just-”

“Don't bullshit me, Y/N. You know it doesn't work,” Nat stated plainly and you swallowed. She was right, it was near impossible to successfully lie to her. “Does your father know?”

“No, no, no. Nat, you can't tell him,” you begged. “He'll kill us.”

Natasha scoffed, pointing an accusing finger at Loki, who was still standing sheepishly behind you. “He's lucky I haven't killed him myself.”

Loki shifted uncomfortably. When it came down to it, he was a god and Nat was human. She probably couldn't do much damage to him. But she was certainly intimidating. Loki wasn't so much upset over the fact that you'd been caught, if anything Loki found it rather exciting. His only worry was how this situation would pan out for you. And your relationship.

“Natasha, please. You know how my dad overreacts.”

“I'm not sure I'd count ‘getting pissed that your daughter's dating a criminal’ as overreacting.”

You felt helpless. With Tony as your father, the team were the closest thing you had to family. Nat had always been important to you, she was an older sister, a cool aunt and in some cases, a understanding mother all rolled up into one. She wanted what was best for you, and you knew if that meant throwing Loki under the bus, she wouldn't hesitate.

Noticing your struggle, Loki decided to intervene.

“Agent Romanoff, if you'd allow us to explain. I-”

Nat turned to Loki with a glare that stopped the god mid-sentence. “I'm not talking to you. I'm talking to Y/N.” She turned back to you. “Tell your dad.”

“What?!”

“Tell Tony about this.” She clarified, gesturing between you and Loki. “Or I will.”

“Nat,” you started but as she raised an eyebrow you knew she wasn't bluffing. She was dead serious.

“Okay, okay, fine. We'll tell him. But just not yet-” you hesitated. “Just give us a little more time to figure it all out.”

Natasha seemed unconvinced, to say the least, but when she noticed the genuine worry in your expression she backed off and her voice softened.

“Fine. But if he finds out beforehand, I had no idea about any of this,” she ordered. “And you,” Nat glanced at Loki who was still standing behind you. “Are on thin ice.”

Nat turned to leave, shooting one final glare Loki’s way. “Oh, and a bit of advice. Next time lock the goddamn door.”

You both sighed in temporary relief as the door slammed shut and you were left alone.

“Well, that went well,” Loki commented sarcastically, rubbing at his temple.

“And that was only Nat. How do you think the others are going to react?” You took a seat on the workbench and Loki joined you.

“Were you serious?” he asked. “About telling them? Telling him?”

You sighed, dropping your head into your hands. “I suppose we don't have much of a choice now, do we?” You murmured and Loki chuckled slightly.

“I suppose not.”

“You're enjoying this.” You growled as Loki’s mood seemed only slightly diminished by the situation you’d just been landed in.

“Yes, I find being threatened by a world-class assassin immensely enjoyable,” he noted nonchalantly. Loki sighed when the fear remained evident in your expression. He gently caught your wrist and pulled it away from your face, lacing your fingers as he did so. “Honestly, my dear. There's no need to worry. It will be fine.”

“You sound awfully sure.”

“That’s because I am,” Loki smirked, his tone reassuring and soft. He placed a harmless kiss against your cheek, but couldn’t resist the urge to continue down to your jaw.

His nose grazed your neck as his breath fanned out over your skin. His voice fell to a low whisper. “Now, what was it we were getting to before we were so rudely interrupted?”

You couldn’t help but laugh in slight disbelief. “You never learn, do you?”

Loki flicked his wrist as he began to plant kisses down your neck. “Do you take me for a fool?”

 You glanced at the labs' door to find the keypad had turned red. Locked. Smirking, Loki pushed you down and picked up where he'd left off.

It had been a little over a week since Natasha had found out about your relationship with Loki and thankfully, she hadn't said anything as of yet. She was giving you a generous amount of time to build up the courage to tell both your father and the rest of the team, but it was courage you were yet to find. The stress of the whole situation had been getting to you, something that was becoming more and more apparent to Loki.

In some desperate attempt to help you blow off a little steam, the god had dragged you down to the training hall. You and Loki often trained together, though since the beginning of your relationship, training seldom actually took place during your sessions.

But you needed it today, and after less than fifteen minutes of sparring, you could already feel some of the stress dissipating.

“Let's try that again,” Loki stated, helping you up from where you'd fallen back onto the training mat. He steadied you before pacing back a few steps as you both prepared for another round.

You made the first move, Loki easily blocking your strike. He caught your other arm as you tried to hit his shoulder and he only barely avoided a knee in the groin by spinning you around and catching you in a gentle headlock.

“Fighting dirty today are we, darling?” He purred in your ear and you smirked. Leaning forward, you used the momentum to throw Loki over your shoulder, straddling him to assure he stayed down.

“Problem with that?”

Loki chuckled, staring up at you. “Certainly not.” Throwing his leg over and shifting his weight, he threw you off of him and you landed on the floor beside him. He then took up his position on top of you. “Two can play at that game.”

He used his new vantage point to lean down and kiss your shoulder. “And I do enjoy it so very much.”

You turned your head to the side to grant Loki better access as he kissed up your neck, but your blood ran cold when you noticed a familiar figure standing dumbstruck at the halls entrance.

“Shit, Steve!” You pushed Loki off of you and for a moment he thought it was an attempted diversion until his own eyes locked with the captains. “Steve, wait!”

He was already turning to leave and you took off after him, Loki right behind you. You barely caught him before he reached the door. “Steve, hear us out, please.”

He turned to look at you with slight disappointment, his cheeks still tinted red with embarrassment given what he'd just walked in on. “Why didn't you tell us, Y/N?”

“I swear I was going to. I should have sooner and I'm sorry.” You rushed. “But please, Steve. You can't tell my dad, not yet.”

Steve hesitated. He'd taken you under his wing from day one and he'd be lying if he said he saw you as anything less than family. He didn't want to put you in a situation where he knew you'd face hardship. But he also didn't want to put his relationship with Tony on the line. He knew what that could lead to.

“I won't lie to Tony.”

“Then just don't say anything!” You tried. “Not saying anything technically isn't lying.”

Steve sighed, glancing between you both, his eyes lingering on Loki a moment longer. Loki seemed to have read the captains mind.

“Captain, I understand your concerns. But I can assure you my intentions are completely good-willed.”

Steve shook his head, questioning his sanity. “Does anyone else know?”

“Natasha, that's it.”

Steve seriously pondered the dilemma he was being faced with. Part of him wanted to march off and tell Tony, part of him wanted to strangle Loki for even putting his hands on you and the other part was still hung up on how upset you’d be if he chose either of the latter options.

“Alright,” Steve said after a moment of silence and relief flooded your expression. “But if your father asks-”

“I understand.” You nodded, still breathing a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Steve.”

You counted your lucky stars as Steve left the training hall, the whole conversation having gone way better than you could have possibly imagined.

“You know, my dear,” Loki stated from behind you. “We really must stop picking the worst possible places in the compound to make out.”

You'd been peacefully working away in the lab, adding the finishing touches to the suit you'd been working on. A few more final touch-ups and a test run and it would be ready for missions.

The door slamming opened behind you immediately caught your attention as a severely pissed off Loki stormed in. His jaw was set and his hands were balled into fists. This couldn't be good.

“Loki, what's wrong?” you asked, rounding the table and approaching him. He was already pacing.

“Thor knows,” he growled and your heart stopped. “He was asking ridiculous questions about you and I and he knew I was lying.”

You inhaled sharply and did your best to avoid groaning in frustration, unable to grasp how Loki of all people had gotten caught out lying. “Loki, you're the god of lies.”

“And Thor's a persistent bastard!” He bit back.

You grappled with the little composure you had left and sighed. Loki was still clearly fretting and at least one of you had to start thinking straight.

“Okay, well what did he say?”

“That he wouldn't tell anyone,” Loki murmured, running his index finger along his top lip, something he often did when nervous.

“Alright then, what are we worried about? He said he wouldn't tell.”

Loki scoffed. “It's Thor! He struggles to keep the simplest of secrets, he's going to let it slip!” Loki took a seat and wrung his hands. “Your father is going to kill me.”

You stepped towards him and ran a comforting hand through his raven hair. He sighed and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head against your stomach.

“You're a god, Loki. I don't think he could kill you even if he wanted to.”

“He'll find a way,” Loki moped, tightening his hold on you.

You huffed at Loki's dramatic antiques as you continued to run your hand through his hair. One thing was now painfully clear, you needed to tell your dad. Before anyone else found out.

It was all planned out perfectly. The team was set to have dinner together in an attempt to bring some normality to your crazy lives, and you figured it would be the best time to break the new. You'd wait until everyone had finished eating and you and your dad were alone and then you'd tell him.

Not only did you think it would be better to have the conversation one on one, but Loki not being there also lessened the likely hood of your father trying to kill him if he didn't take the news kindly.

The only major challenge now was making it through the dinner itself without losing your nerve. Loki assured you that he'd be by your side right up until the moment he had to leave, and he meant it. Your father sat at the head of the table, because of course he did, and you sat to his right. Loki was seated beside you.

Most of the dinner passed as they usually did when the team ate together. Clint complained about the take out choice, Nat downed an impressive amount of wine whilst somehow remaining sober and a philosophical debate had broken out despite their being no indication as to what had started it.

For once, you and Loki remained silent, too nervous to offer any input should your worrisome tone give you away. You had spent most of the dinner toying with the food on your plate with your fork.

Loki's hand gently held yours beneath the table. It was risky, but no one had noticed and it was currently the only thing keeping you sane.

“You alright, kiddo?”

You glanced up to find your dad staring at you. He motioned to your untouched plate of food.

“You haven't touched your take out. It's your favourite.”

“Oh yeah, I- uh,” you stumbled over your own words and cursed yourself for being caught off guard. Most of the team were still chatting amongst themselves, but Steve and Natasha were now watching the exchange between you and Tony attentively. “I guess I'm just not that hungry.”

He seemed entirely unconvinced and leaned in slightly, away from the prying ears of the table. “You sure everything's alright?”

You gulped. Your father was no idiot and he knew something was eating away at you. From the corner of your eye, you could see Nat nodding her head and Steve smiling supportively. This was the perfect opportunity to bring it up and you decided it was now or never. “Well, actually-”

“Nice going, Clint!”

Both your heads snapped up to see that a knocked over wine bottle had stained both the end of the table and Bruce's white shirt.

“Hey! It's not my fault. Who even drinks this stuff anyway?!”

“What the hell is that suppose to mean, bird brain?” Sam yelled, possessively grabbing what was left in the overturned bottle and dunking it into his glass. Bucky hid his smile behind his bottle of beer.

Everyone else's attention had turned to Bruce, who seemed to be doing an excellent job at not hulking out and sending Clint through the nearest wall.

You bit your lip.

“Dad, is it alright if I leave? I'm not feeling up to eating right now.” You asked. Now clearly wasn't the best time to bring something up and you decided waiting till after everyone had turned it in for the night was probably best.

“Sure thing, sweet pea,” he smiled as you stood and pushed in your chair behind you. Loki followed you, rising to his feet.

“I think it's time I also take my leave.” No one paid much attention as Loki mimicked your actions and prepared to leave the table.

“Leaving already?” Wanda asked politely and you smiled back, already prepared to answer with ‘Yeah, I'm just tired.’

“Of course they are! I'm sure my brother and Y/N have much to do and discuss,” Thor smirked, winking and raising his glass to the both of you in a not so subtle way.

Silence fell over the entire table and you and Loki grew rigid. Natasha and Steve turned to glare at Thor, who lowered his glass, realising what exactly he'd just said.

“What?” Tony said, turning to Thor with a shocked expression. Loki quickly stepped in.

“I think my brother may have had a tad too much Asgardian ale, I-

“No, what did you say?” He asked again, voice raising. All eyes were now either on Tony, Loki or you.

Thor seemed to shrink into his seat, taking interest in the bottom of his cup as he attempted to backtrack and fix his mistake. But it was too late.

Your father's gaze turned to you and then Loki, who was cautiously standing behind you. 

“One chance.” He was livid. “You get one chance to tell me the truth.”

“Dad, can we not do this now,” you asked quietly.

“The truth, Y/N.” You couldn’t recall the last time you’d seen your father so angry. And as terrified as you were, you knew lying would only dig you a deeper hole.

“I was going to tell you,” you started, wincing as he ran a hand down his face. “I just didn't know how and then Nat told me I should just-”

Your father's glare turned to Natasha who choked on her wine at your words. You mentally grimaced as you realized what you'd just said.

“Oh, so you knew!” Tony yelled, pointing an accusing finger at Nat. He turned back to you. “You told Thor and Natasha before you told me!”

“I didn't tell her! She just sort of found out...” you fumbled and Tony laughed humorlessly.

“Did anybody else know besides Nat and point break?” he asked, addressing the whole table. Steve fidgeted awkwardly in his seat and Tony immediately singled him out.

“Steve.” He crossed his arms as he glared at the captain. “Something on your mind?”

Steve sighed. “Look, Tony I-”

“Don't bullshit me, Rogers.”

Steve nodded wordlessly and Tony bit the inside of his cheek, looking as though he was prepared to rip into each member of the team. You cowered back slightly and Loki stepped infront of you, shielding you from your fathers rage the best he could.

“Great! Awesome! Did anyone else know my daughter was dating a psychopath and just decided to keep that information to themselves?”

Everyone awkwardly shifted in their seats, some clearing there throats and others offering you sympathetic glances. Natasha mouthed a ‘sorry’ and Thor seemed to still be beating himself up for letting it slip in the first place.

Loki stepped forward. “Stark, I can assure you-”

“Zip it, Reindeer Games,” he warned and for once, Loki did as he was told. Tony pointed to you as if he were scolding a child.

“You are grounded,” he stated. “No more missions, no more lab privileges, nothing.”

You scoffed. “I'm not a kid!”

“Yes, you are! You're my kid.”

“Dad, will you please just listen to me.” You begged as you stepped towards your father in hopes of reasoning with him. He rose from his seat to meet you.

“No. This,” he gestured between you and Loki. “Ends now. End of discussion.”

You took a step back, feeling as though an arrow had hit you in the chest. Tears were brimming your eyes and you couldn't find it in you to meet anyone's gaze. Seeing how upset you'd become, Loki refused to bite his tongue any longer.

“Stark, with all due respect, I won't allow that. I understand your disdain for me and it's more than warranted but do not take that anger out on Y/N. You have no reason to trust me but I can assure you that my feelings towards your daughter and nothing but sincere and genuine.”

Loki's sudden statement seemed to have surprised Tony. He opened his mouth to argue but Loki didn't give him the chance as he continued.

“She has given me a second chance and I love her dearly for doing so. And I would never do anything to harm her. I love her unconditionally and all I ask is for a chance. Allow me to prove myself.”

Loki's speech had left you teary-eyed with a warmth spreading in your chest. A smile pulled at your lips as Loki turned to you. The genuine and loving look in his eyes spoke volumes and it took every ounce of control you possessed not to launch yourself into his arms then and there.

“Tony, I don't know about you but that seemed pretty convincing to me.” Nat voiced from the table and Thor immediately agreed.

“My brother may be the god of lies but he has spoken nothing but the truth tonight.”

Steve, ever the diplomat, offered Tony an encouraging nod. “All he's asking for is a chance, Tony.”

“It's pretty sweet if you ask me,” Bucky murmured from beside the captain, Sam and Wanda nodding in agreement.

Tony watched as the table seemed to take Loki's side and he battled with himself until his eyes landed on you. You were standing side by side with Loki, whilst he smiled at you in adoration. The glances you shared were nothing short of loving and Tony couldn't help but notice how genuine and mutual it truly was. Loki's hand was brushing against yours, desperate to grasp hold and comfort you but not wanting to overstep the line the tension had drawn.

Tony sighed as he realized what he had to do. You were his daughter, his everything. And he just wanted you to be happy. Even if it was with someone he didn’t initially approve of. 

“You love him?” he asked nonchalantly and you nodded.

“And you, Frosty,” Tony motioned to Loki who tried not to frown at the nickname. “You love her?”

Loki glanced at you, smiling softly. “Wholeheartedly.”

Tony swallowed down the lump in his throat as he watched the both of you, not completely ready to accept that you weren't a kid anymore.

“Well then, I guess that's that.” He smiled at you softly. “Leave it to you to fall for the God of mischief. You always were a troublemaker.” 

Your father pulled you into a hug, muttering a quiet ‘love you, sweet pea’, before pulling back to look at Loki.

“You hurt her,” he started and Loki cut him off with an amused chuckle.

“You'll kill me?” He guessed.

“Oh no, not just me. They'll kill you.” Tony smirked, pointing to the table full of avengers.

Loki nodded. “Understood.”

Nat sent you a wink and Steve and Thor smiled whilst the rest of the team seemed to congratulate you with supportive, and in some cases embarrassing, comments.

You and Loki smirked at each other, slowly turning to leave the dining room when your father's voice called you back.

“Woah, where do you two think you're going?” he asked. “Cats out of the bag now so no need to run off and hide. Sit.”

Seeing no point in arguing, you both took your seats, Loki holding your hand atop the table for everyone to see. Things quickly settled back into a comfortable conversation, you and Loki feeling freer than you had in months. The domesticity of it all was enough to make your heart burst.

“So,” Clint, who was slightly tipsy at this point, yelled. “When's the wedding?”

Tony turned red. “Don't push their luck, Barton.” He partially joked, glaring daggers at his teammate as the rest of the team laughed. As for you and Loki, you couldn't help but smile at the possibility.

tag list: @leftperfectionmoon @doozywoozy @bakerstreethound @miraclesoflove​ @Kealohilani-tepise

[parkersroses]

are you taking requests ? if you are could you write something about y/n’s dad being a musician who’s helping harry write his album and he wants to take y/n on a date but she has a rule about not going out with musicians, you can choose the ending or change whatever you want !

music in me. | harry styles.

summary: Harry and Y/N are both pining for each other but don't know how to tell the other.

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

wc: 2.9k

warning(s): fluff <3

a/n: heyyy! to the anon who requested this, i hope you like it! i wasn't planning on doing requests but this was a cute concept and i couldn't help but write it. i tweaked it a bit but it's still the same concept. hope everyone likes it too! reblog (!!) and comment if you do, here's my ko-fi! all my love <3

—

He’s the only one in the room, sitting on the piano bench with his lyric journal out. Lyrics to a song are written messily on the pages with annotations. Piano notes scribbled along the lines, some are crossed out because he didn’t think it sounded right.

While everyone else were out for a break, Harry insisted on staying in the studio to try and finish a song, telling them he’s okay as long as they get him some black coffee or a snack. He quite enjoys the quietness of it and it helps him focus. Well, most of the time.

Sometimes, a pretty girl would pass by and Harry would get distracted by said girl. He’s known her for a while now, having to be the daughter of one of the producers he was working with.

When he met her for the first time, Harry swore that he was entranced by her beauty and sweetness that she exuded before him. She had a voice as sweet as honey and a lot of kindness to share around the room. She stops by the studio once in a while to help out her father, most times she’d come in bringing homemade sandwiches and some pastries from a nearby bakery. Harry once kept telling her how he was a cashier at a bakery one time and she laughed as she told him she knew. Besides, no one forgets that the Harry Styles worked at a bakery.

Harry very much likes her; he guesses that he might have developed a small crush on her. She’s stayed a couple of times with him in the studio and even gave him some of her thoughts which he never knew meant a lot to him. He enjoys her company and finds it lovely to have formed a friendship with her. The fact that he was working with her father didn’t really phase them. They were good friends.

Yeah, good friends.

Except he wishes he wasn’t afraid to ask for more.

He’s playing around with the keys, eyes closed as he envisions what the song would best sound like. Occasionally, he’d cringe if he hits the wrong key or the order was just off. He’s so into working on the piano that he doesn’t realise a familiar face walking into the room.

Y/N smiles at the picture laid out in front of her. She’s carrying a drink carrier with both her drink and Harry’s; she might have heard that he would be in here. She almost doesn’t want to disturb him as he seems so tranquil in his own world, creating art for the whole world to hear.

She contemplates on calling his name by doesn’t as he snaps out of his world and sees her. “Oh! Hi!” He smiles at the sight of her. She returns the smile and walks over to him by the piano.

“Hey. Got you some things. Thought you might be hungry so I got food too,” she lifts the bag and drinks in front of him and sets it on top of the piano. He thanks her and takes his cup, his name clearly written in black sharpie on it. He blows the steam of his coffee as she takes out the food she got for them, some seafood pasta. Something in him seems to lighten up when he sees this, knowing he had mentioned to her once about his pestacarian diet. So, it warms his heart that she would get something he’s able to eat.

“Have to be honest, I was actually getting a bit hungry just sitting here, waiting for the others.” He chuckles as he takes the packed container and reaches for the wooden utensils she brought. “Well, why didn’t you just go with them?” She asks as she twists her fork onto the pasta.

He shrugs at this. “Just thought I’d work on this. Besides, you got me food now and I didn’t even ask,” he teases her. Both of them laugh as she nudges his shoulder.

The two of them settle on their meals, making small talk in between bites. Harry almost feels a bit shy having to sit alone in the studio next to a pretty girl he’s been crushing. It’s not like he doesn’t want to tell her. He’s gotten the hint that she might like him too. From the way her eyes are always focused on him whenever he has to say something to the remembrance of the little things he mentioned to her. She looks at him the way he thinks he looks at her, full of awe and adoration.

He so desperately wants to take her out, but a lot of things might get in the way of that. The big elephant in the room is her father. He doesn’t want people to think he only likes her because Harry is working with her father and he certainly doesn’t want him to think that way either. And he knows how mean people can be sometimes.

But Harry doesn’t care all that much about what people would say. He’d protect her with everything in him. Question is whether she would want to do this with him too.

“How’s the song coming along?” She nods towards the book in front of him as she swallows her food. He stares at her for a second, admiring how lovely she looks today before averting his gaze. “It’s alright, I guess. Just figuring out the keys and all. Might not even make the album with how it’s sounding.” He shrugs like it’s not a big deal.

She stifles a laugh as she studies the messy annotations on this page. “Oh no. Doesn’t sound good enough for the next amazing Harry Styles album?” She jokes, nudging his shoulder again. He laughs at this, his cheeks warming up at the compliment.

“Well, some songs don’t end up in the album anyway. This is probably for fun.” He tells her as he sips on his coffee. She nods at him and gestures to the book again. “May I?”

He nods and gives her his book without a question. He trusts her and her judgement enough and really cares about her opinion on whether a song is good. Her eyes skim over the words written on the pages and she even turns to the other pages to what else he’s written down.

“These songs are amazing, Harry.” She tells him, smiling as she reads the lyrics. Harry blushes at the compliment. He’s had many people compliment his songwriting, from his mother to his band to the fans he meets; but there is something about knowing it’s good in her eyes that makes him feel proud of his songwriting abilities.

Maybe it’s because he’s whipped for her. It’s a good thing she won’t know that most of the songs he’s written for this album were inspired by her; that’d save him from a bit of embarrassment.

“Thank you, darlin’,” he says, taking back the book and setting it on the piano.

“So, which one is about me?”

“What?” His eyes are suddenly wide open as he looks at her with a panicked expression.

She stares at him for a minute before giggling. “I’m kidding! Gosh, should’ve seen the look on your face. That was gold,” she stifles in her laughter at him. He huffs, rolling his eyes at her as his cheeks are flaming up.

“Yeah, yeah, you got me, you little minx,” he says as he pokes on his side, making her squeal at the ticklish feeling.

The laughter in the room simmers down into comfortable silence. Harry looks over at her, his eyes running over her features, studying her. She seems to sense this because she looks up at him. They stare at each other in silence until she smiles at him, leaning in to rest her head on his shoulder.

“Play something for me?” She mumbles. He grins and lays his head on top of hers. His fingers lay on the keys and he starts to play a familiar tune from one of his songs from his last album. The two sit together, listening to the sounds of the piano filling the room.

When the rest of the team comes back, Y/N’s father is looking around for her. He knew she somehow stayed behind to keep Harry some company. He doesn’t think too much of it; he’s seen the way they both interacted and he was more than glad they got along. Maybe a little too much.

He somehow could sense a mutual liking between the two. It was sweet to be fair. It was like seeing his little girl talking to a guy she likes in school all over again. He’s not one to be a strict parent; all he wants is to look after her. There were too many guys in the industry who’d try to take advantage of her because of him, which is why he would always get cautious of them.

But he sees the way Harry and Y/N look at each other like they’re the only ones in the room. For a moment, he begins to think that maybe this is the guy for her. Someone who genuinely likes her and would sometimes go out of his way to spend time with her, even if it wasn’t work-related. Harry is generally a respectable man, but it truly warms his heart to see the way he treats Y/N the way he knows she deserves to be treated.

Then, he stumbles upon the two in the same studio room Harry said he would be. He sees the two sitting close to each other as Harry plays the piano. Occasionally, they would both giggle at each other for reasons he’s sure it’s something between just them. He stands by the door for a while as he watches them, a smile graces on his face. He sees the smiles and happiness radiating on their faces.

And he thinks to himself that maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

As the session for the day ends, Harry and everyone else are ready to pack it up and go home. As he puts his water bottle and journal into his tote bag, he steals a few glances at Y/N in which she returns, leaving both of their faces flushing in warmth. He approaches her nervously while she plays around with her fingers.

“Um,” he starts. “Thanks for today.” She chuckles at his words and shakes her head.

“I didn’t really do anything, but you’re welcome,” she jokes. They both let out a laugh.

“Well, uh, take care,” he says and she gives him a small smile. She was hoping he’d say more but she doesn’t push it. “You too,” she points out.

He nods as he slowly walks backwards to the door. He stops in his tracks for a moment before opening his mouth again. “I, uh,” he begins again and she waits for his next words nervously. “I’ll see you in the next session, yeah?”

Her heart deflates a bit but she hides her tiny disappointment with a smile. “Definitely, Harry.”

They awkwardly bid each other goodbye before parting their ways. Unbeknownst to them, her father watched the whole scene and he shakes his head at the silly adults.

He calls for Y/N and tells her to sit with him for a minute. “Yeah, dad?” She questions him as she sits on the couch. “Want to tell me why you and Styles look like nervous teenagers, wishing the other would ask them on a date?”

Y/N is shocked to say the least as she stumbles on her words and tries to pretend she doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He chuckles at his daughter’s act. “Think you should put him out of his misery and let him ask you out. Or better yet, you should ask him out.”

“But dad, what about you?”

He cocks an eyebrow at her question. “What about me, sweetie?”

She chews on her bottom lip gently before speaking. “It’s just, I know he has a lot of respect for you and he doesn’t want to make things weird if anything did happen between us. Plus, what if he’s like those other guys that try to kiss up to you through me? I really like him, dad.” She mumbles out the last part under her breath. Her father sees the slight dilemma his daughter has and shakes his head at her, smiling.

He lifts her chin up so she could look at you. “I know he’s not one of those guys. While the rest of those boys can try and fool me, he’s a man with a lot of heart and respect towards others. And I can tell you that he really likes you too. I’ve seen the way you look at each other. Don’t think you guys are so slick with that.”

Y/N giggles at her father’s words. “Thanks, dad,” she tells him, kissing his hand and holding it tightly. It somehow reminds him of the first time her tiny baby hands tried to hold his hand. It makes him choke up, knowing his little girl isn’t so little anymore.

But if it’s Harry who’d be the man that’ll make her happy, then he’s completely fine with that.

He kisses her head lovingly and pats her shoulder. “Now, you better go after him before you come home sulking because you didn’t catch him. I’ll go wait in the car for you,” he suggests. Y/N’s face beams with joy as she stands and runs out of the room.

The sun is setting by the time she reaches the front door of the studio building. She looks around to see if Harry has left yet. She doesn’t see him and she starts to frown at this. She’s about to sulk on her way to her father before she hears a familiar deep voice calling her name.

“Y/N?” She turns around and grins as she sees Harry walking over to her.

“Hey! You’re still here,” she beams at him. Harry smiles at her, noting how adorable she looks. “Yeah, had a chat with Mitch and Sarah before they left.” He points behind him for her to see their car driving past them, honking at them as if to say goodbye.

“Anyways, you alright? Saw you ran out here,” he asks concerned. It truly makes her heart flutter knowing how much he even cares. Not to mention, he’s a very handsome and beautiful young man, especially under the golden hour lighting they’re getting.

“Yeah, I wanted to ask you something,” she tells him. She’s playing with her fingers, something she does when she’s nervous. He hums in response.

“Would you wanna go on a date with me?” She rushes out her words.

But Harry hears her clear enough. He’s surprised at first. He always thought he’d ask her out but she beat him to it. He lets it sink in; the fact that the girl he really likes, likes him back and wants to go on a date with him.

A smile breaks out onto his face and he nods. “Yeah, yeah, I’d love to!” He exclaims.

Y/N lets out a breath of relief as she hears this. “Really?”

“Really! I really like you, Y/N. Been meaning to ask you out but I guess you beat me to it,” he chuckles as he steps closer to her. His hands reach out to grab her hands and she lets him, liking the warmth he gives.

“I really like you too,” she smiles at him. He grins as his eyes run over her face, loving how pretty she looks with the sunlight hitting her complexion.

She’s not sure whether it’s too soon to kiss him but he slowly leans in, as if he’s waiting to see if she’ll reject him. But she doesn’t and immediately leans into him, letting lips finally touch.

She feels him smile into the kiss, their lips move in sync. She breathes in his scent of cologne he wears through her nose and tastes the sweetness of his lips. The feeling they both get is almost overriding their senses and all they can think of is each other.

They break away as they catch their breath. Harry sneakily leans in again to steal a peck which makes her giggle. They’re smiling so hard that their cheeks are starting to hurt.

“That was nice,” he grins at her. She nods as she looks at him with dazed eyes.

“I should probably head back now,” she points out behind her. Harry nods understandingly. “I’ll call you later, alright? Let me know when you and your dad get home safe,” he says, his thumb stroking over her knuckles gently.

She nods in agreement. “Goodnight, Harry,” she bids him.

“Goodnight, darling,” he gently says back.

They don’t move apart from each other until Harry leans in again. “One more kiss,” he mumbles as his lips press against hers. She doesn’t object as she moans lightly at the feeling of his lips again. They break away, giggling as they bid each other goodnight again.

As soon as they part away, Y/N waits until she sees him getting in his car before squealing in delight as she skips back to her car. While this happens, Harry is shouting in his car, letting it sink in that he finally has the girl who inspired most of the songs he wrote for his new album.

[tu-sugar-mami]

Tales of the side of the road: Day #1)

You're an overworked, sleep deprived, tired barista at a pretty strange coffee shop. You don't really complain, since the payment is good and you have a lot of free time, with the shop being pretty much empty and customers walking in only once in a while. The place is big, well equipped, somehow there's wifi, and you love doing what you do even if sometimes you wish you could go home. You could say the building is placed in the middle of nowhere, in a road connecting two barely populated and pretty hidden towns. The only other building anywhere in a few miles is the convenience store, an old and beaten up OxxO across the street, the cashier doesn't speak much though.

The owner is a bit... how to say it? Cryptic, to put it slightly, but that doesn't bother you at all, you barely see them, and now that you think of it perhaps the only time you spoke to them is when you were hired.

You've seen your fair share of weird stuff in three years of working here, and you even made friends with the local cult, although with a rocky start when they tried to sacrifice you to their deity. It turned out for the best, since you gained regulars that always came in with the freshest gossip. And yes, you may have gotten a small curse because of the first encounter, but hey, being occasionally possessed by a dark goddess do come handy when one of the diverse side effects is super strength and you have to lift heavy boxes of ingredients for the drinks. Because, let me tell you, the drinks you make are not regular stuff.

You specialize in a very complex form of beverages, with basic color code names, but with a flawless, delicious, magnificent taste. At least to those who are meant for.

You see, customers here are very unique, and many have tried to eat you several times before you made it clear that you were not on the menu. They learned to not underestimate your skills manouvering a broom.

Anyway, today is a specially slow day. Not even Gary —a cultist of the highest ranks, who loves his double shot 'blue' coffee— has passed by yet and you can't help but wonder what or who held him back. Though your inquiry doesn't last long, when you hear voices outside and the approach of hurried steps.

It's almost nightfall and it starts to get chilly when you get ready for yet another endless night shift. You find it odd that other people aside from Gary would swing by the shop at this hour, but well, it is your job to serve them after all, and so you tighten your apron and ready your notepad.

Like i've said before you've seen a lot of not so ordinary stuff, and when an uncommonly tall —and absolutely gorgeous— lady along with three younger, shorter women wearing at least 10 layers of cozy clothes walk in you're absolutely unfazed and instead welcome them with the brightest smile you can muster.

"Hi! Welcome to Itsy Bitchy Spider, home of the best coffee in all 24 miles around. What can i get for you today?" You say, bringing the women's attention to you.

The tall lady seems a little thrown off by your warm welcoming. Or by the weird name of the franchise, or perhaps because she wasn't expecting a fragile-looking human to be behind the counter, who knows, but she usher one of the younger girls —a brunette one, who wears a creepy but charming smile peeking from under a thick scarf— towards the counter and clears her throat. "Hello, yes, my daughter got into a little bit of a situation earlier and she has to clean herself up. We're on our way to a very important meeting and she has to be presentable."

It's only now when you notice that said daughter has bloodied clothes, and when she lifts her head you can see that there's blood dripping from her chin too. But again, not the weirdest.

"Sure ma'am," You say with a smile, wich has her giving you a curious look. "the bathroom is on that black door over there." You point and the girl goes on her way, almost skipping. Kind of adorable, you think, like a small child would be, except much older and dangerous. "So, is the cult holding a meeting? That'd explain why Gary hasn't come by." You say casually. The woman is about to answer when another uh, you suppose is a daughter too, suddenly points at the pastries countertop.

"What's that?" A redhead girl asks. She looks excited and genuinely curious about a colorful piece of a cake. You don't make them, and honestly you don't want to know what's in them, but you know they're suitable for any kind of customer that walks in, so you pull out a piece and arrange it on a plate, decorating it with red syrup, the red syrup.

"Try it, it's on the house." You wink at her while sliding the plate towards her and she looks at you like you just handed her a priceless jewel.

"Really?" She says, but is more a formality since she's already pulling the plate closer. "Look Bela! Look what i got!"

"No, Daniela you shouldn't eat that. Your tummy will hurt, you know this." The tall lady says as she grabs the plate and pull it out of Daniela's grasp, which is easy given her height. "We're sorry, but we can't take this. We have a very strict diet." She hands the plate back to you.

You smile and gently take the plate away, aware of the sad puppy eyes the redhead is giving you. You discreetly, almost as if it wasn't your intention, you put the plate within her reach and keep talking. You pretend not to notice when the girl sneakily grabs the plate and runs back to her sister to share her prize.

"Ma'am, i assure you it is perfectly safe. You're not from around here, are you? Well, let me get you acquainted with the place." Not wasting any time you quickly prepare a concoction of 'red' coffee and top it with regular whipped cream while the lady's gaze is fixed on every move. "Here, try this."

"Try what?" The dark haired girl has returned from the bathroom all freshened up and looks curiously to the tall glass you slide on the counter. "Oooh, that looks nice!"

"It is nice. It's one of the house's specials. We call it 'red coffee' though it's up to you discover if you like it."

"Cassandra, i don't think we should..." The lady seems hesitant, but when you rise the glass as close as you can to her face and she takes a whiff you can clearly see her pupils dilate. "What... is that?" She asks, breathless, as if she's just found something she craved for so long and didn't even know it.

You smirk, knowing that you guessed correctly about what would work on her. "Why don't you take a sip and find out?"

"Mother, i think you should give it a try." The blonde girl, the one who hadn't said a word since she first entered says. You notice that there's some cake frosting right on the corner of her smiling lips.

"Perhaps i should listen to you, Bela. Let's see, shall we?" The mother takes the glass from your hand, tiny in comparasion to hers, and she guides the brim of the cup to her red lips. She cautiously takes a sip and as soon as the liquid touches her tongue and she tastes, the drink is downed in seconds.

"So, what's the veredict? You like it?" You say as you put the lid on the last of another three cups of the same drink that you finished making while the cup on the lady's hand was being emptied, ready to hand over to the girls.

"It's exquisite..." She says, and you can see the awe on her face. "How?"

"Well, that's a secret, isn't it? You can come by whenever you like, we're open all day, every day." You look behind the four women and spot a grumpy looking man wearing sunglasses and a hat just outside in the parking lot. Odd when there's no sunlight to protect his eyes from, but you don't judge. "Looks like someone is looking for you." You point past them to the guy.

And sure enough:

"Alcina! Where the fuck are you? Miranda is waiting for us, we're late!"

The annoyed expression on the lady's —Alcina, now you know— face almost make you laugh, but you don't want to be disrespectful and instead you just cough a little. "Looks like we have to part ways." She says, putting the glass on the counter delicately. Her eyes are glued to your own and you can see fire in them. "For now."

The lady turns around and walks away with determination and elegance in her stride and behind her the daughters follow with the grace of young gazelles. One of them, the blonde girl turns her head enough to see you over her shoulder and waves goodbye. You wave back.

"Have a safe trip!" You say. Much, much later you'll call this 'day one', when Alcina first entered your life, but for now:

Alcina... The name feels sweet like honey in your mouth and you smile. You can't wait to see her again.

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@thejennystuttle here it is the first one i finished. I got carried away, srry. Hope u like it?

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If you love my work, buy me a coffee?

[therealvinelle]

How do you believe Carlisle feels about Esme? How would their break up go? Would he ever cheat on her? I mean like emotionally?

He loves her.

I don’t doubt that his feelings for Esme are genuine, that he respects and cherishes her and wishes to spend his life with her. Esme, too, worships the man.

My complete lack of faith in this ship comes from the fact that they’re together for the wrong reasons and not compatible. 

The Bad Beginning

Carlisle had spent centuries searching for likeminded, he never did. In the end he succumbs and starts creating his own, first Edward and then Esme, and to his joy they both agree to do the diet.

Esme’s transformation was entirely an impulse on his end. He saw this delightful, vivacious young woman he’d known ten years ago lie broken and dying in the morgue, a Jane Doe declared dead, she was all too easy to steal. She was too far gone for him to have time to think it over, and so he went «alright let’s do this. I imagine it seemed rather like God had sent her to that morgue specifically. We learn from Midnight Sun that romance wasn’t on his mind at all (even if it was, that wouldn’t make their marriage more functional) and he expected nothing of her. He bit her because he didn’t want Esme Platt to die.

Esme, of course, wakes up into this new life under surreal, heavenly circumstances. Her child is still dead - but here is the mythic, pedestaled Dr. Cullen, now her savior and more wonderful than ever. To back myself up with the books:

Esme had already been in love with Carlisle—much to his shock—but not through any mystical, magical means. She’d met Carlisle as a girl and, drawn to his gentleness, wit, and otherworldly beauty, formed an attachment that had haunted her for the rest of her human years. Life had not been kind to Esme, and so it was not surprising that this golden memory of a good man had never been supplanted in her heart. After the burning torment of transformation, when she’d awakened to the face of her long-cherished dream, her affections were entirely his. (Midnight Sun, chapter Bloodtype)

Carlisle, on his end, hadn’t had the idea at all until Edward said “Dude, she’s into you, go for it.”

I’d been on hand to caution Carlisle about her unforeseen reaction. He’d expected that she would be shocked by her transformation, traumatized by the pain, horrified by what she’d become, much as I had been. He’d expected to have to explain and apologize, to soothe and to atone. He knew there was a good chance that she would have preferred death, that she would despise him for the choice made without her knowledge or consent. So the fact that she had been immediately prepared to join this life—not really the life, but to join him—was not something he was ready for.

He’d never seen himself as a possible object of romantic love before that moment. It seemed contrary to what he was—a vampire, a monster. The knowledge I gave him changed the way he looked at Esme, the way he looked at himself.

More than that, it was very a powerful thing, choosing to save someone. It was not a decision any sane individual made lightly. (sic)

I’m not entirely void of authorial intent - I get that this was supposed to be romcom where the cute nerdy guy has no idea the girl is interested. 

But, what I see is that after centuries of being alone, never finding anybody who shared his values, Carlisle finally has these two people who share his ideals, the only two in the world. He’s had countless friends, but it never worked out because of that damn diet. But, now he has these two people, and one of them is a beautiful, kind, wonderful woman who’s in love with him.

I imagine falling for Esme was easy. It was just so perfect, simply by being Carlisle Cullen he could make her happier than any other man, and given their shared diet, he wanted her by his side always, just as he did Edward. And this was it for him, really, to Carlisle Cullen Esme might as well be the only woman in the world because she’s the only one who'll share his lifestyle. He also felt responsible for her.

I don’t at all doubt their sincerity or affection for one another.

However, they did not fall for each other for each other’s sakes. Esme fell for the ideal since childhood, and Carlisle fell because she was perfect. Stick them in an AU and it won’t happen.

The Slippery Slope

Where they run into trouble is firstly that Esme doesn’t share these ideals, nor value human life for its own sake. Now, I’m not asking her to be a saint - but over the course of these books we had some lapses that I find pretty damning. 

She wanted Edward back in Forks, when this would almost certainly mean the death of Bella Swan, simply because to Esme having Edward nearby > a person’s life. This wasn’t the case for Carlisle, he made it extremely clear he wanted Edward to leave.

During the “Kill Bella?” vote, she was in favor of whatever meant Edward would stay.

Carlisle, having failed to get anywhere with talking sense into Edward, sends him home to his mother for an intervention. What happens next is that Esme gives Edward her blessing to eat the delicious girl if he wants to. Now, we can’t know specifically the talk Carlisle and Esme had before this, but I can’t imagine it was this. Also, damn, what a miscommunication.

Esme simply doesn’t have a problem with the deaths of individual humans, and she will put her loved ones above all other things, even if it’s a minor inconvenience. Keeping Bella alive only becomes her priority after Edward makes it clear he wants this.

Now, Carlisle’s standards have been worn down over the centuries, he just wants his family to try not to eat people on purpose, that’s how low the bar is. Tragically for his marriage, Esme is stumbling over said bar.

The further trouble they run into is that I don’t think they’re very compatible people.

Esme means well, but she’s peculiar, to put it extremely nicely. Her ambition in life is to LARP the human life, right down to being a master chef of something her species can’t eat, which could be sweet if she did other things. She doesn’t, the closest she gets is designing homes for her family. There’s being single-minded, and then there’s Esme, who appears to have honed herself into someone who exists only to be the housewife.

This leads to bizarre behavior - for instance in Midnight Sun when Edward has realized he’s in love, he sits around laughing to himself like a lunatic while playing the piano. Something happens with Rosalie, who runs out of the house in humiliation. Esme, responding to all this, gives her infamous “the best and brightest of us all” pep talk.

It’s just such a weird scene, even accounting for the inhumanity of Twilight vampires this is weird.

Mostly, thought, it is Esme’s interests and desires in life that I find so at odds with Carlisle’s. She wants to be an improved human, living the shinier, better, life without actually embracing the inhumanity of vampirism, while Carlisle is doing the human thing because he wants to be a doctor and save lives. Before that, he was travelling the world, living with normal vampires, using his eternity to study and pursue meaning in life. Now, they end up in the same place, with similar goals - wanting to blend in with humans - but the motivation is the polar opposite.

Which in turn means that as the world turns and their lives inevitably change, the way they live will have to change. This will spell trouble.

There’s also me having a strong suspicion these two don’t have much of a physical relationship, if any. Meyer specifically referred to their relationship as spiritual, and that fits the vibe we get from them in the books. Quite notably, Rosalie and Emmett were impossible to be around when they were newlyweds, while Carlisle and Esme weren’t a problem at all. 

Not to mention what Esme longed for all those years was very much an ideal of a man, which to me doesn’t immediately point to a very physical attraction.

The Penultimate Peril

Would he cheat on her, you ask. Answer is yes, they’re both cheating emotionally with Edward. No. 

He’s with her because he wants to be, and feels responsible for her. More, developing the kinds of feelings necessary for an emotional affair isn’t really on the table for him, since everyone else in the world is either a. one of his kids or the Denali, b. an unrepentant man-eating demon. So, unless Tanya’s feeling frisky, Carlisle doesn’t have anybody to cheat with.

(I’m here defining an emotional affair, which as I understand it is a bit hard to define, as a romantic, but non-physical entanglement. The cheating party has to know their partner wouldn’t be cool with it for it to count in my eyes.)

As for physically cheating on her, nope. God no, not ever. Unless something really convoluted like the plot of Blue Moon unfolded, but that’s really more a case of Esme pimping out her husband to her daughter-in-law, so everyone’s to blame here.

The end

I think the breakup can happen in any number of ways, but I think either way it will be sudden. 

These two aren’t going to go “you know, I think we’ve grown apart” because Esme would never acknowledge that nevermind walk up to Carlisle and say it, and if Carlisle realized things aren’t working he’d still want to stick it out for her sake.

I think it’ll be sudden, it’ll happen as the immovable object that is them is hit by an unstoppable force. One will go someplace the other can’t follow. Maybe when the Cullen coven splits down the middle, and they’re on each their own side of the chasm, or maybe some other cause entirely.

It’ll devastate them both, but given the people these two are, I think it’s inevitable.

[rcksmith]

Spring breeze part.2 — Spencer Reid

Gif by @ssadrreid

Sumarry: Spencer never thought about falling in love with someone, but he certainly didn't expect that he would fall in love with Gideon's daughter. — season 3 —

Part.1 Part.3 Part.4

A/N: I was very happy with the return you guys had in the first part💖. I hope you guys like.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️ Couple:Spencer Reid / Gideon's daughter!reader.

Warnings: nothing, just very fluff.

— — — — —

Spencer straightened his tie for the hundredth time in front of the mirror, in several unsuccessful attempts to exhibit his best that day. It was funny and ironic how, after so many years wearing dress shirts and a tie, the universe seemed to handpick that day to do - no matter how much Spencer tried to fix it - his tie looked weird. The fabric was too far to the left, or too far to the right, or too wrinkled in the folds. No matter how much he undid the knot or changed his tie, still looked strange.

What a nightmare.

Reid was barely able to sleep with the notion that he would see you today, his body being whipped assiduously by unsettling waves of euphoria, his mind whizzing like a propellant, anxiety screaming in his mind and sending his sleep for miles away. That morning, the world seemed to be more stuffy, hot and torrid, and for a second, Reid felt himself under the heat of Egypt instead of autumn in Washington.

He could feel his heart speeding up with the steps of the clocks, his breath running away from his lungs, a thousand and one speeches being revised in his head to try to lessen the likelihood of speaking some bullshit near you. Because he couldn't ruin that chance.

Spencer knew he was not the type of guy to have dates whit women like you every day. In fact, Laila had been the only stunning woman who had looked at him a second time. But, well, to be honest, he knew that all that affection she had directed him had been side effects of the transfer. He had been her hero and it clouded people's rationality. And, to his disquiet and to the dread of his insecurity, you were above the beauty of Laila on stratospheric levels.

To make matters worse, the damn tie wasn't good! God, he was screwed.

Spencer gave up on that impossible mission, settling for and conforming to what the tie looked like after the twentieth attempt. He wanted you to see him as a handsome person, a man worth wasting time with, not a boy who only served to be your friend. You were beautiful on so many levels that... well, Reid wanted you to be attracted to him, too, to simplify.

He stepped away from the mirror and slung his work bag over his shoulder, trying to control the pounding of his own heart.

On the way to work, trying hard to avoid thinking about what him looked like in that damned imperfect tie, Reid wondered, for a moment, if you too were under the same emotions. Did you change your clothes several times because you also felt anxious too? Could it be that, like him hands, yours also trembled? Or, if he was lucky, was your heart beating as hard as him?

He hoped that was yes.

As soon as he entered the BAU headquarters, with anxiety as his chaperone, Spencer sat at his own table while pouring a “Good morning” to his colleagues.

“Arrived early.” Derek narrowed his eyes at him, in that suspicious look.

"I am never late." He was quick to hit and that caused his friend to raise an eyebrow.

"But you never be anxious to get here earlier."

Sometimes Spencer hated that his friends were profiles.

“I just like my job.” Reid started to unpack things of bag, trying to avoid the look of Derek who was still burning his back.

“Oh, I'm sure you like.” The double meaning in his friend's tone did not go unnoticed by Spencer, but he did not want to delve into the truths of that argument, much less think about it.

Emily and JJ arrived after a few minutes, with Garcia following behind and making their point that she was not to blame for buying those pairs of shoes, since they were practically begging her to take them. Normally, Reid did not look at the glass door whenever he heard someone approaching, or had a strong desire to see Gideon pass through them as well.

But that day... that day, seeing Gideon meant seeing you. And seeing you meant that you would go through that door. And going through that door meant that Spencer would see you come in. That was enough to make his gaze turn to those doors from minute to minute.

But time passed. Fifteen minutes flew by, then twenty, then thirty. Anxiety increased and now his agitated heart was tuned to his right leg, which did not stop quietly, shaking from top to bottom assiduously.

“What do you look for at the door so much, Reid?”

Prentiss asked the last question that Reid would like to answer, and that caught Derek’s attention, who, as expected, laughed amusingly and sank further into the chair, a sly, playful smile on his lips.

“Oh, he is expecting a member of the Gideon family.”

Spencer swore and, in that moment, he was never so jealous of ostriches for being able to stick their heads underground. If he were one of them, he would definitely do it.

“I'm not expecting Y/n.” he said, whit voice higher and thin than usual.

“But I didn't say it was Y/n.” Derek laughed and Spencer felt his cheeks go red.

This time he gave up hitting back, his let out a bad mood murmur and turned forward, forcing himself not to look at the door anymore. From that moment on, Spencer focused on focusing on the pile of reports in front of him, forcing his brain to disconnect from the things around him and concentrate on matters that demand his all attention.

The hours went by, faster this time, the case-free day was being used to finish late reports and giving the team time to recover the nerves and breath of the last case.

After noon, Gideon still hadn't arrived and Spencer started to feel slightly fearful. He was about to take his phone out of his pocket and dial Jason when JJ appeared, handing over more piles of reports to they that required to be finished today.

Derek gave a loud curse of annoyance, muttering something and back to writing again. Emily was used to the paperwork bureaucracy, but from the bittersweet and dissatisfied look on her face, Spencer knew that no one there shared the same delight him had with paperwork. He also knew that Morgan was exhausted because he had remodeled a property yesterday and was barely could to sleep, and Prentiss felt overwhelmed because she was dealing with problems with her mother and with the bureaucracy policy that Strauss pressed against her.

Then Spencer looked at the file stack itself. There was a lot of paperwork, but the amount of reports he would finish in two minutes was three times what his friends would finish in an hour. He leaned forward, looking over the table to see Emily and focusing Derek better in his field of vision.

“Do you guys want to give some reports? I finish faster anyway”

They agreed without hesitating or pretending modesty. Reid laughed, saying that his friends would owe him one, and went back to work.

After that, when Spencer finished the reports and lifted his head from the paperwork, the light in the world had dimmed to a dark blue hue, streaked by small, bright stars.

The breeze coming in through the large glass windows was fresh and invigorating, the scent of the night's wonderful promises was reminiscent of your perfume. And then he realized that neither you nor Gideon showed up all day. Something about him withered, the euphoria diminished until it became as small as the stars outside. The clock struck seven at night when Spencer got up and put his things away, millions of feelings buzzing in chest.

The unsettling sense of concern began to take place than had previously to been emotions of anxiety and excitement, and he pondered whether to ask Hotch about Gideon or to call himself. Reid looked around, looking under his colleagues, who were packing up to go home, and going up to Aaron's office. He could still see his figure under the marble table, the light from the room underscoring the serious and concentrated expression he directed to the documents. The air in that room looked different, maybe more dense, maybe more serious. But Spencer knew it was best to let Hotch do his own thing.

He ran the tip of his tongue over the corner of lips, reaching into his pocket and reaching for his cell phone.

“Hey, Reid." he turned toward Morgan, that signaled them to go to the elevator.

“Did you speak to Gideon today? Or did you hear Hotch say something about it?” The question came after he reached Derek, both of them walking out the glass door.

"Is it Gideon you're worried about or... his daughter?” He laughs shamelessly, pressing the elevator button.

Spencer stumbles over the words when says: “Wh-What? No. I'm just worried about him. It has nothing to do with… ”

As soon as the sentence was about to end, the elevator doors open. Instead of the usual void or presence of someone from the FBI, Spencer felt catatonic when he saw the female figure inside.

You.

In a burst, like a strong wind that blows and pushes things away, Spencer was struck by all the feelings and sensations that had been bubbling in his stomach all day. Euphoria, anxiety, insecurity and... animation. Suddenly, he was worried again about how he would look, what he would say, if he was presentable enough for you to look at him with... Well, Spencer didn't know how he wanted you to look at him, but he wished it were something that guarantee your affection.

He wanted to be something that excited you, that made your heart race. Just like his was now.

"Y/n...” He did not recognize his own voice. The intonation.

"Hey." You smiled genuinely, and it was able to make Reid's heart beat so fast that he feared you could hear. “I'm sorry I didn't show up and neither did my dad.”

“No problem at all.” He was sincere “Did something happen? Are you two okay? ”

The concern in Reid's voice was so palpable that you losing your breath. God, that man couldn't be real.

“I just remembered that Garcia is call me." Morgan tried to swallow a big smile “It was good to see you, Y/n.”

“Me too, Morgan.” You gave him a hand gesture that, for Reid, was lovely.

Spencer put his arm in the elevator door, preventing it from closing.

“Will you want to leave?” Always as solicitous as a gentleman.

“Oh no.” Now it was your cheeks that were softly red. “I came to see you actually.”

If nothing that had happened before was not enough to steal Spencer's breath, your sentence completed the mission. He put himself in an elevator, pressing a button and letting the doors close.

"I was going to bring my dad today, but ... well” You laughed “To put it succinctly, my dad has a list of things he wants to do before he dies, and one of them was rollerblading”

You and Spencer laughed. Half because he would have laughed at anything you said to see your smile, and half because he couldn't see Gideon having such a list. But he liked it. The feeling of knowing that Jason was having fun, enjoying life, not letting that job rip off all of his humanity, was comforting, joyful.

“Why do I feel this is not going to end well?" He joked too and you laughed.

“Because it doesn't end.” Your fingers ran through your hair “We ended up going to a place that had this, before he have work today, and he ended up twisting his ankle when he fell.”

You tried to no laught, because it was not something to play with, but after the fright passed and your father and you were entangled, they both burst out laughing. And now, reliving that, you didn't remember the hurt itself, but how great the fun between the two of you had been.

“He is fine?" But Spencer had a worried flash in his eyes.

“Oh, yes, the doctor said there was nothing much. He just needs to get some rest.” You smiled “I was going to call, but one thing led to another and when I saw it, it was too late to call. So I thought about coming in person.”

Spencer was known to have a photographic memory and a very high IQ, but at that moment, if then asked what you had just said, he would need a moment to remember. For the only thing he was concentrating on at that moment was the certainty that your smile could light up the whole of Washington. How your eyes held the stars' syntax and how the energy that emanated from you was... cheerful.

He realized that you were a cheerful person, outgoing and with an innate ease of making friends. You had that special touch that made people and the universe orbit around you. And Spencer knew it was one of the planets captured by your gravity.

"It is very sweet of you to come here to tell me that.” He smiled, but then realized what he had just said “N-not that you owe me any explanation! I just-I think it's cool that you worried and…n-not that I waited for you but… not th-that I didn't expect you too and...” Spencer stopped talking, giving up trying to find the right words to get him out of the mess he got himself into.

At times like this, Reid was used to people just dropping an embarrassed nod and leaving, or ignoring the avalanche of things he said. But as soon as the tone of your laughter echoed through the elevator and snaked through him body like a wave of energy, Reid looked at you more closely. You didn't give that embarrassed look, nor did you look sorry for him. You laughed lovingly and touched his arm.

"I was also looking forward to seeing you.” You summed up all of him thoughts in one sentence and freed him from all fears.

"Serious?" But disbelief was still present.

The elevator door opened and the two of you got out, walking to the exit of the building and being greeted by the cool, comforting breeze of the night.

“Yea.” You said as if it were obvious, “What do you think about going to a movie? It's not too late. ”

If Spencer had been told a few weeks ago that in a few days he would be on a date with the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, he would have scoffed. He would have thought it was a joke with a background of evil. Going out with girls was not on the list of things Spencer did regularly, but he was thanking any confusion or mistake the Universe had made to accidentally placed you with him.

To be honest, with you on his side, with you with him, Spencer felt like he had won in life. That all those years of school and university, when he only saw beautiful girls from afar and dreamed of what it would be like to have one this girls interest in him, had dissipated into the air. Dissolved in the breeze like smoke. During all the hours of film, the joyful and ecstatic conversations you both had after, Spencer could feel the connection in the air. Naturally, kind of magical.

Did he know you two days or two decades ago?

You told all of your adventures, all of stories, and listened carefully to every ramble and phrase Reid had to say. He felt, for the first time, completely important. As if everything he had to say was valuable as a diamond, rare as a tropical treasure.

He felt comfortable, relaxed, cheerful.

And when, at the end of the night while the two of you were walking along the lively and vibrant streets of DC, you took his hand and intertwined yours fingers, Spencer never felt so alive.

He had been born twenty-four years, but only now did he really feel what it was like to be alive.

tagged: @gublersuvula @peculiarinsomniac

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | chapter four

Chapter Four

summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, depressed spencer, reader has a daughter, falling in love, strangers to lovers, library smut, oral (female receiving) lots and lots of fluff

word count: 3.9k

from the beginning <3

Everyone at work was very understanding. Almost all of them saw it coming, he was taking more sick days than normal and he wasn’t putting up a fight anymore when the 30 days was required to take rolled around. They were profilers after all.

He arrives on Thursday morning to pack his desk. The team is finally home and all together to wish him well on his future journey, giving him hugs and kisses as they each visited his desk.

They had already replaced him, Will LaMontagne was giving the FBI a shot, finally. Spending more time with JJ, the kids were old enough now to accept both of them working. And Kate Callahan was back, now that her baby wasn’t a baby anymore either.

Even Penelope and Derek showed up, bringing a cake that said ‘happy retirement’ written across the frosting. They were happy for him, they shared the same excitement he had. There was a thrill in his eyes again as they asked him about his plans.

“Tell us about this Y/N you met,” Emily cut into the laughter to get to the serious topics.

“I’ve been going to the park a lot recently and I found this little reading nook by a pond. She was there with her daughter and they invited me over to their picnic,” he realized how fake it all sounded as he continued to speak. “Her daughter is wonderful and super smart, I took them to the Smithsonian on Sunday and I’m completely smitten.”

Everyone swooned, happy to see him finally finding someone that makes him gush like this. It had been a very, very long time since Spencer has told any of them about a person, let alone someone he was in love with.

“She is wonderful,” Penelope added, “she makes the best tea and she lives in a literal Disney movie.”

Spencer laughed, “yeah she does. They probably read more books than I have, they make so many references all the time and they even dress up for what they’re reading, it’s amazing.”

They were amazed by how giddy he was, unable to stop smiling at him, “here we dressed up for the museum, I was milo from Atlantis and she was the old man in Tarzan,” he pulled his phone from his pocket to show them the photo.

It was his background now, Y/N sent it to him when he finally went back to his place Monday night, knowing he’d miss them. Not wanting him to be alone.

He was beyond proud to show them the photo, beaming from ear to ear as they all complimented his attire.

“She looks like you,” Kate added, “must be the genius gene,” she added, making awkward eye contact with JJ as they both clocked it.

“She’s exactly like me, that’s why Y/N likes having me around, it’s good for Amoreena to feel normal with the way our brains work,” he spoke about her like she was his own. Forever grateful to have her in his life.

“So when are you proposing?” Matt teased him. Knowing the feeling of love like this all too well with his perfect wife and a handful of children.

“I’m not trying to jinx anything,” Spencer admitted. “I actually have a job interview at the Library she works at later, so I’ll be around here a lot more.”

“He’ll be moved in by the end of the month,” Tara smiled, proud of him and the courage it takes to follow your heart.

“I’m going to miss you guys,” he presses his lips together softly, nodding as he avoids eye contact with them. “But you can call me whenever you need my brain, I guess.”

Hugs were exchanged as Spencer had to leave, Derek even offered to drive him back to his apartment to help with 4 boxes of books from his desk, and to have a bit of a talk like they always do.

“It’s surprisingly easy to be a dad, all you have to do is be there and love them,” Derek shared a tidbit of advice

“She told me she doesn’t mind me being like Amoreena’s dad, but I don’t think I can yet. I want her to decide when she wants me in that role.”

Spencer explains his feelings the easiest to Derek. Like he was already in his mind and knew the thoughts before he said them, Derek was never mad or disappointed in him. He loved him fully, and Spencer loved him right back.

“Like when you chose Gideon?”

Spencer can only nod, it’s still too sad to think about him being gone. “You know what it’s like, you love your father but there are other people in your life who fit the role better.”

“Yeah,” Derek agreed. “You’re going to be great, regardless of the name she uses when she thinks of you.”

“Thank you,” Spencer smiled as they pulled up to his apartment, “you should bring Hank to meet the animals this weekend sometime.”

“He’d love that,” Derek smiled back at him, patting his shoulder lightly. “I’m really proud of you.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to do it if you didn’t first,” he admits. “You’re a strong man who decided to put his happiness first, I can be too.”

“You sure as hell can,” Derek wrapped him up in one last hug before sending him off to live that best life he was talking about.

The only person who didn’t know yet was his mother. He wasn’t sure how to tell her, he knew she’d be proud of him regardless but that anxiety of disappointing her never went away even now that he was 40.

“Spencer!”

“Hey mom,” he smiled when she picked up. “How are you?”

“I’m fantastic, Marge and I are going on a walk later to see some ducks that were born, I really love it here Spencer,” he could hear it in her voice. She was much more joyful when she was surrounded by friends.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“you sound happy, what’s going on?”

She was his mother, after all, she could know exactly how he’s feeling from just hearing him breathe or being in the same room as him. It was like a superpower, she always knew what was going on.

“I met someone,” he can’t help but smile. “And I quit the FBI to have a family.”

“You’re kidding?” He couldn’t read her tone, not sure if she was surprised or disappointed.

“Her name is Y/N, she has a 7-year-old daughter named Amoreena who is exactly like how I was as a child, you’d really like them,” he explains and he can hear his mother's smile from his end of the phone.

“I would love to meet them, you can bring them to visiting hours next Tuesday?” Diana offered, genuinely happy for him in a way that made his heart burst.

“I’ll see if they’re free and I’ll let you know.”

“I love you, Spencer,” she reminded him. “It’s nice to hear you’re happy, that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”

“I love you too, thank you, mom, for everything.”

She hangs up before they can get too emotional, leaving Spencer inside his sad little apartment all by himself. Taking the opportunity to pack his overnight bag for Y/N and pick out some books from his collection to show Amoreena.

There’s an envelope sticking out of one of his books that manages to catch his attention, taking it out to see his name written on it in Gideon’s handwriting. He almost forgot he had this, how important the words were.

Spencer,

I knew it would be you who came to the cabin to check on me. I’m sorry the explanation couldn’t be better, Spencer. I’m sorry it doesn’t make more sense, but I’ve already told you. I just don’t understand any of it anymore.

I guess I’m just looking for it again, for the belief I had in college, the belief I had when I first met Sara and it all seemed so right.

The belief in happy endings. When you find that, never let it go, Spencer.

Don’t let this job do to you what it did to me, get out and get a life when you can. I have faith in you, till I see you again, take care, son.

Gideon

He walked over to the window then, seeing a beautiful red and brown bird perched on his fire escape. He couldn’t help but smile, “I found my Sara, thank you,” he whispers to the bird who turns its head to the side before flying off.

Gideon always did have the best timing and the best advice.

—

“Y/N, your one o’clock is here to see you,” the receptionist at the Library said over the phone, hanging up and returning her attention to Spencer, “she’ll be with you in a moment.”

“Doctor Reid,” he hears her voice as she rounds the corner, appearing behind a stack of books in the most beautiful blue dress he’s ever seen. “Lovely to see you again.”

“You too,” he smiles.

“Right this way,” she can’t help but smile as she escorts him to her office.

“I don’t normally consider people who don’t send in a resume, but I have a feeling you’re going to be good at this,” she teased him as he sat at her desk.

“Allison is going on maternity leave in a few weeks, so you won’t start until she has the baby. If you’re serious about wanting this position, it’s only Monday through Thursday, 9 to 2:30.”

“You’re not going to ask me anything?”

“I don’t know if you know this, but the literary historian and I get to spend a lot of time together, I’d rather hire someone I know I already like,” she smiled again. “And it would be nice to see you every day without a 7-year-old taking all your attention away from me.”

“You just want to live out the fantasy of kissing someone in the encyclopedia section, don’t you?” He teased her right back, making her blush. “I knew it.”

“Sue me!” She laughed, and he finally understood what tinker bell meant when she said farries are born from the purest laughter.

He was in love with her right then and there, he was sure of it.

It had been under a week and yet as he stared at her, hearing her wonderful laughter and seeing her beautiful smile, knowing she wanted to spend time with him, that she genuinely liked him and none of this was one-sided, it made him fall harder than he thought he could.

“Come on then,” he stands abruptly, taking her hand and pulling her out the door.

She tries to giggle quietly as she follows him all the way back to the quietest section of the library. Most of the books on the shelves didn’t even have bar codes because they haven’t been checked out since the 60’s, no one needs them but they can’t seem to part with them.

She backs up against the shelf and pulls him into her space, he drops her hands and holds her face instead, looking at her beautiful eyes as they sparkled in the fluorescent lighting.

“I was expecting this to be hungrier than this when I imagined it all for all these years,” she whispers, biting her lip to force her smile back.

“You’re just so fucking beautiful,” is all he can say, brushing her cheeks with his thumbs lightly a few times before finally placing his lips against hers, ever so gently.

Her hands stretched around his back, pulling him in closer till their bodies are pressed together and then she’s kissing him deeper. Breathing in through her nose like she’s trying to keep him there forever, her fingernails dig into his shirt and he knows she wants more.

He slid his thigh between hers, opening his mouth to give her all the access she wanted and letting her take control of the speed. She wasn’t kidding when she said she expected it to be hungrier. She was kissing him like it was the first time she has had contact with another human being in years, and it just might have been. She said she was single for a while before Amoreena, probably the whole time since as well.

“Spencer,” she took a moment to gasp for air, breathing against his lips as he did the same. “Can we?”

He kisses along her jaw then, moving towards her ear to whisper, “do what? Use your words.”

“Anything, just touch me please, god it’s been 12 years,” she begged as quietly as possible, tugging at his hair as he nibbled on her earlobe.

He kissed down her neck making his way towards her chest. Holding her by the hips now, she arched her back into the shelf as he kissed all the way to where her dress started to cover her breasts but he didn’t stop. Kissing over her clothes as he dropped down to his knees in front of her.

He undid his tie, slipping it off his neck and handing it to her, “in case you need to scream into something.”

She held it in her hand for a second, registering what he just said and moaning softly in response as she held it closer to her lips, he took that as a yes and slipped under her dress.

She was wearing just a pair of regular cut pink underwear, not expecting this in the slightest when she got ready this morning. He kissed her over top of the fabric, spreading her legs so that he could kiss the insides of her thighs as she tried to desperately grind into his face. grazing his teeth against her skin as she shivers, thighs shaking in anticipation.

He kisses right where her clit should be under the fabric, knowing he’s correct when she whimpers around the tie he handed her. It's muffled and adorable as he kisses her again and again, knowing she wants more and teasing her gently.

He pulls her panties to the side, mesmerized by how perfect she is for only a second before returning to the task at hand. Being the first person to pleasure her in years, wanting her to have the best time possible.

With one hand he holds her panties back, using his other to slowly swipe a single finger through her folds to see just how wet she was. Smirking against her thigh as he’s able to slip right in.

“Please,” he hears her whisper, lifting the dress up so she could look at what he’s doing.

“Such a good girl for me,” he pressed the words against her skin.

He spreads her legs even further, resting one of them on his shoulder as he dives in, sucking her clit into his mouth abruptly as he pumps his single finger in and out. She jerks her hips at the sudden contact, stuffing the tie in her mouth and biting down as she whimpers.

He knows what he’s doing, where all the pleasure spots are and what feels the best on most women. Searching around and trying different tongue movements, memorizing the sounds she makes and attempting to hear them again and again, knowing it means she’s enjoying herself.

That’s all he wanted, to please her. Not even realizing how hard he was as he continues to eat her out furiously in the back corner of the DC Public Library. He forgets they’re even in public entirely as he moans against her clit, sending shockwaves through her body.

She’s quaking then, holding onto the top of his head with one hand as the other grips a shelf. She’s panting into the material of the tie, the hot breath making its way through the fabric and stopping the whorish moans he knew she’d make. It had been too long since someone treated her right.

He added a second finger then, wanting to push her over the edge as he curled them, finding her g spot and caressing it with every thrust of his fingers. She clenched around him then, a high-pitched noise left her mouth as she finished around him.

He couldn’t help but smirk, re-moving his fingers and cleaning them off in his mouth. Releasing them with a pop before dragging his tongue along her one last time. Gathering up everything she released and placing her panties back over her nicely.

He kissed over her underwear one last time before fixing her dress and standing up, “did I manage to fulfill the dream?”

She couldn’t help but laugh, looking like she was coming down from a real high, not just an orgasm. She pulled him in close and held onto him for dear life as she continued to catch her breath, and then her hand started to wander.

“Nope,” Spencer whispered, moving her hand away from his aching cock. “As much as I want to, I’d rather fuck you at home.”

“Home huh?” She teased him, kissing his cheek softly as she pulled back.

"I love you," he whispers against her ear, without a fear in the world that she didn't feel the same way.

"I love you too, Spencer."

They couldn’t stop smiling at each other, it felt surreal to be this happy. He kissed her a few more times, staying hidden in the back corner until the blood in his body let this dick and went back to where it was supposed to be.

She just held him in her arms, leaning back against the shelves as they kissed softly, running her hands through his hair gently, over and over. She whispered a few thank you’s to him, letting him know it was everything she waited for.

It was truly perfect.

—

Amoreena was so happy to see him back at the farm when she got off the bus, she missed him during the few days he wasn’t there.

She asked him to help with her homework, her teacher assigning them an “all about me” project to showcase their growth at the end of the year ceremony. It was almost June, she only had a few weeks left before she was off for the summer and free to show him around the whole kingdom.

Y/N brought out a box of craft supplies and a collection of photos. Showing Spencer every single moment of her and Amoreena’s life.

From her first sonogram to the first bump photo, she had and every maternity shot on the farm you could think of, to the day she was born, her first bath, first steps, chocolate cake shoved on her nose at her first birthday, everything. He felt like he watched her grow up in the blink of an eye, staring at all the photos while Y/N and Amoreena made a plan for her project.

She did look a lot like him, in some instances, she even looked like his mom. There was a look Diana would get when she was intrigued with something, or when she was trying to figure something out. She’d bite her tongue and tilt her head, and it was exactly what Amoreena did.

He never thought he’d see a child-like himself this early, he always expected someone to contact him at 18 and surprise him like Rossi. He really never, ever thought he'd have a child in his life who he was blessed with watching grow up. He never believed someone would have a kid so much like him and allow him to see the world through their eyes. He was amazed by how lucky he got, to be brought into an already happy family that wanted him, they didn’t just need him.

There was no need for a father in Amoreena’s life, she was happily living her life with her grandparents and her mother, explaining to him that she had a bunch of aunts and uncles, plus 15 cousins and they all lived close too. Her life was full of people to love her, and yet she wanted Spencer to love her too.

“Can I put the photo of us at the museum on here too?” She asked Y/N, looking at Spencer to see if he was okay with it too. “I already told my friends that you’re my dad.”

He felt like he couldn’t breathe, he didn’t want to cry in front of her so instead he just stopped all movement inside of his body and held it in. Looking at Y/N who was also a little emotional as Amoreena went back to looking through the photos.

Amoreena didn’t even notice how their expressions changed, she didn’t understand the weight of the words as she said them. She was oblivious to the hole in Spencer’s heart that she was filling with glitter glue, making him feel like he was whole again.

“Yeah,” he finally managed to speak. “I’d love to be on your project.”

“I know you said we don’t need dads but I kinda want one,” Amoreena’s soft expression made his heart melt even more. He was putty in her hands, willing to be whatever she wanted from him as long as he could.

“When did you say that?” Y/N asked softly, confused as to where she was when they had a conversation.

“The other morning at breakfast, um, my father left when I was little. It was just me and my wonderful mother until I was 21, then I found someone to call Dad. His name was Jason Gideon, he was my mentor and he made he feel like I was smart and loved,” he smiled, letting her know he genuinely meant it. “There’s a big difference between being a father and being someone's dad.”

“What’s that?” Amoreena’s innocent mind running wild as she tried to figure out his meaning.

“Anyone can be a father when two adults make a baby,” he said softly, making eye contact with Y/N as she blushed. Knowing where he was going with this. “But dads are special, they’re the people who are supposed to make you feel safe and loved. A person who you can turn to for advice and know he’ll love you no matter what you have to say. Dad’s are supposed to love you forever, regardless of what happens in life. Just like your mom does already.”

Amoreena leaned into his chest, pressing her head against him softly. He wrapped his arms around her gently, giving her the tiniest hug he’s ever given. “I pick you then, you’re the best guy I know and I think that means you’d be a good dad.”

Y/N silently cried, getting up from the table and walking into the kitchen so Amoreena wouldn’t see her sob. Spencer tried to widen his eyes so the tears he was generating would slip back into his tear ducts. Not wanting to cry as she held him.

“I’d love to be your dad,” he whispered, kissing her head softly as she held him tighter. “But first I’ve gotta check on your mom,” he whispered into her hair. Watching her pull away and look for where she was.

“Okay,” Amoreena shrugged, returning to her project as he wandered into the kitchen.

She was leaning against the counter when he walked in, her dress pulled up over her face as she cried into the material. Wiping her face as Spencer walked in and looking at him with the happiest smile.

She was laughing into her tears then, shaking her head as she sobbed, “why am I crying?”

He laughed then too, pulling her into a hug and spinning her around gently as she kept laughing. Her face buried into his neck as she smiled, he set her down gently so he could pull her into a kiss.

Her cheeks were all wet as he held her face, peppering kisses to her lips as they both tried to stop smiling.

“I’m going to miss hearing her call you Spencer,” Y/N whispered.

“Me too,” he giggled again. “But dad does have a good ring to it.”

tag list:

@shemarmooresfedora

@spencers-dria

@spookyspence

@reidsfish

@manuosorioh

[bokutoslittlebird]

Family Vacation

Bokuto x reader x Akaashi

Author’s Note : no incest, I promise ; the request included some slight BokuAka interaction, however I made it more than slightly ; the hot springs resort is loosely based on three different locations under the Kinosaki Onsen in northern Hyogo [Mikuniya Ryokan, Yutouya Ryokan, Nishimuraya Ryokan]. Each one offers different things, but they all have some common aspects that I liked: seafood served during winter months [November - March], traditional ryokan, and options for the hot springs [indoor, outdoor, and family] ; holy fuck is this wrong.. but holy hell is it erotic

Warnings: introduction of the Bokuto family, best friends to lovers au, playful teasing [about reader’s virginity], some mlm [Bokuto x Akaashi] interaction, fingering, face-sitting, handjob, blowjob, cum eating, spit exchanges and mentions, no penetrative sex, virgin!reader, virgin!Bokuto

“Oh, [Y/N]! I’m so glad you could make it!”

“Thank you for having me, Bokuto-san,”

“Oh, dear, call me Fuyumi! You’re practically family, anyways,” she smiles, eyes crinkling as she does. Her smile makes you smile, bowing in respect as if you haven’t known her for years.

The Bokuto family always spent their winter vacation before New Years at an Onsen in Hyogo. Yasurai-fukurou was well known for their hot springs throughout the year, but their meals included seafood in the winter. Kōtarō and Shinjiro both love seafood, especially crab, so it made sense the Bokuto family would come to this place specifically. Winter meant snow, and snow meant the garden view from the spring was gorgeous, having the silver lining the green foliage as the pebbles along the ground glistened with melted snow, cold and slippery. It was Kōtarō’s and Machiko’s favorite season, so it was an added bonus. The family had the money to spend, treating the members to a relaxing trip. Even Keiji, Kōtarō’s friend, joined them his first year at Fukurodani.

You didn’t usually attend, yet you always wanted to. Your family celebrated holidays differently, so you often found yourself swamped with family activities around December, only getting free to hang out by the time school started back up. Always wishing to go, you finally got your wish this year. With the stress from school this past semester, your family decided to let you choose what to do, so you declined spending the holidays with your family. Instead, you were free to spend that quality time with the Bokuto family. Fuyumi practically begged Kōtarō to invite you, knowing you’d be alone, so you didn’t have to worry about inviting yourself. There was one problem, however.

“[Y/N] should room with us!” Machiko points out. “She can’t board with boys!”

“What do you take us for? We’re her best friends,” Kōtarō waves off his sister. “I worry Amaya might try to wrestle her,”

“She could use the practice!” She pipes up, only to be shut back down. “I wouldn’t hurt her,”

“Why not let the girl choose herself? It is where she will stay, in the end,” Shinjiro said. Although he was right, you suddenly felt your heart tugging in two different directions. Machiko and Kōtarō gave you the puppy dog eyes, begging to choose them. A heavy sigh came from you as you weigh the options presented in front of you.

“I trust Keiji and Kōtarō, I’ll room with them,”

“No!” The two girls dramatically shout, falling to their knees. Fuyumi laughs, patting your back.

“Good choice, dear,” she compliments. You know why. Her daughters may be considered mature and adults, but they are both hectic and chaotic in their own way. At least with Kōtarō, he has Keiji with him. There’s no reason to mull over the decision, you know full well that Keiji and Kōtarō wouldn’t hurt you.

Once settled into each room, your bedding laid between the two of them, the trip to relax in the ryokan was in order. The two genders were separated, of course, so you sat in the spring with Machiko, Amaya, and Fuyumi. It wasn’t a bad thing, being with the three, but you knew Machiko and Amaya like to tease you.

“Gosh, [Y/N], you’re so innocent! You’ve never done anything?” Amaya’s face made it seem like she was much more malicious than on the surface. “Even I had a couple boyfriends that I had special adventures with before your age,”

“Excuse me? Amaya!” Fuyumi scolds her daughter. “You never told us this,”

“Why would I? You and dad never allowed me to have a boyfriend until I graduated. Kōtarō even had a girlfriend in his second year,” she pouts, puffy cheeks making her less malicious and much more adorable. Though unintentional, her words make your mood sour, Kōtarō’s slipping from her lips. Machiko notices this, however.

“Well, Kōtarō is a boy and I told your father to make sure he doesn’t do any of that dating stuff, but it seems like he did,”

“You know, I’m kind of tired. I’m really relaxed,” you mention, moving to exit the water. “I should lay down and take a nap,”

“Oh, are you sure? Dinner will be served soon,” Machiko holds out her hand, as if to stop you. You’re quick about getting out, rinsing yourself off before wrapping a robe around your naked body.

“I’m sure. Wake me when dinner’s ready,” you cheerfully smile, waving to them as you leave the setting. Your smile falls, an artificial thing as you continue to pad towards the room. Passing the window leading to the garden, you notice the cascading of the white snowflakes, shimmering in the light from the outdoor lamps. It’s peaceful, the way it floats down to the ground until it rapidly melts, joining the slush forming on the pathway. A sigh leaves you, heart aching from the words Amaya let spill.

It wasn’t her fault, you tell yourself that as you continue to the room. Amaya doesn’t know, but Machiko does. Machiko has always had the older sister intuition, knowing when her younger siblings had something to hide or something embarrassing. Whether it was from her years of travel around the world, or just a trait of hers, she could pinpoint things that made you want to crawl in a hole. What does Machiko know, exactly? Your big, fat crush on her little brother.

Kōtarō has been your crush as long as you’ve known him, aka since you guys were waddling around with chubby legs. Your family and his family live near each other, so it made sense for you two to play a lot as children. As the years passed, your admiration for him evolved into a crushing thing, yet your young mind wouldn’t allow such a horrid thing to be spoken. No, it festered until you broke down one day in high school and confessed to the dark of the night, the only witness of your confession was the moon. You confessed that you loved him, you were in love with him, nobody else could compare. It hurt even more now, knowing you were falling in love with him while he was loving someone else. Even Keiji probably loved Kōtarō, knowing how close they were. You wouldn’t put it past them to be in a relationship, either. Each thought accompanied a step you took, each one bringing tears to prickle your eyes as you finally shut the door to the room, and your problems.

With the dark encompassing the room, you found yourself easily situating yourself on the ground to cry, curling up in a ball as you did so. A pathetic scene, you knew it was, yet you couldn’t help yourself.

After you left the ryokan, Shinjiro happened to be talking to the boys in front of him, both of them flushed red from the warmth of the bath and the topic at hand.

“I knew something was off in the way your mother encouraged you to invite her! I never thought it’d be that, however,” his guffaw had Kōtarō sinking into the water, bubbles coming from his nose as he huffs. Keiji looks at him pitifully, but doesn’t do much of anything else.

“She doesn’t even like me like that. This trip was a mistake,” Kōtarō mumbles, his mouth going back under the water. Keiji sighs, looking into the water where his distorted hands lie. Before he can speak, Kōtarō beats him to it. “I have to go to the bathroom. I think I’ll leave early,”

“You sure it’s just that?” Shinjiro teases. “Or are you going to wait for your lovely friend?”

“Okay, maybe it’s a bit of both,” he huffs, cheeks puffed out. Keiji lets the words die on his tongue, letting Kōtarō leave the spring without any reason to look back.

Shinjiro sighs, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks into the water. “Maybe I went too far. I shouldn’t tease him about his crush, it seems like it’s important to him. I don’t think she sees him in that light, anyways,”

“She does, actually. I think she’s been in love with him for a while,” he confesses. Shinjiro’s eyebrows rise as the words sink in. However, he is quick to understand. No longer laughing and joking, his smile is more bitter and sad. A pity smile.

“And you’ve been in love with her, haven’t you?”

Keiji turns his head to the side, yet he nods. The red dusting his cheeks is no longer just the warmth of the water. Shinjiro moves closer to Keiji, putting his hand on the younger man’s back.

“Then tell her. You both need to confess, not let this fester and turn into something ugly. Don’t let this ruin your friendship with Kōtarō, either. It’s not worth it,”

“I know. I know, Bokuto-san,”

“When you gonna call me Shinjiro? Or even dad? You need to let loose, Keiji!” He laughs again, getting Keiji to crack a smile.

While Keiji ponders how he should go about this, Kōtarō trudges up to his room for the week, unaware you’ve also turned in early. His mood has taken a turn for the worse, hair deflating as he pouts. No matter what, he’s always found himself finding your validation to be the most important. Throughout the years, he’s reached out to both you and Keiji for validation, finding them both to be important to him. While he knows Keiji partially does it just to make him happy, which he is thankful for, he knows yours is genuine. Even when he forced himself to move on, knowing you didn’t see him in that light, he found it hard. You followed him into his dreams, gleeful chimes of your laughter as the future he aims for bloomed into an obtainable goal. Yet, he’d wake up to see the empty space beside him, a brutal reminder that his dreamt future would stay in his head, playing on loop until he could do something about it in the real world.

When his door comes into view, he sighs, relief flooding through him. As he gets closer, he hears a soft voice from inside. Leaning his ear against the shut door, he hears you — a squeak of his name, accompanying a soft mewl, most likely held back due to the thin walls. Even he understands what you’re doing, it’s not like he’s never thought of you that way, finding himself wishing you could relieve his stress in the best way possible. As to respect your privacy, and settle his nerves, he quietly creeps away, to his parent’s booked room. He decides to use the toilet in there, giving you a few moments to finish your own business.

Leaning against the door once more, he doesn’t hear your heavy breaths or your moans and mewls, so he slides open the door to see you under the covers, laptop shining in your face as a movie plays. “Hey, what’re you doing here?”

“Huh?” You jump, turning to see Kōtarō’s large frame at the entrance of the room. It’s scary, the way he seems to have popped up after you finished, or attempted, getting off on thinking of him. “Oh, Kō. It’s just you. No more hot springs for you?”

“Oh, no, I found it to be getting too hot,” he lies, rubbing his neck. The robe you’re wearing is the one you put on after exiting the spring, so his perverted little mind knows you’re completely naked underneath. Not only that, you’re probably nice and slick from thinking about him—

He stops himself, hearing your voice. “Did you hear me? I asked if you wanted to watch the movie with me,”

“Oh, sorry, off in my own world. Uh, sure, what is it?”

“Crown for Christmas. A sappy romance Christmas movie, from America. It’s very predictable, but it’s cute. My mom loves it, so I brought it to watch,”

“Oh, that’s interesting,” he hums, lying on his own bedding. He didn’t move closer to you, giving you some space, but he finds himself panicking when you move closer.

“Can’t see if you’re all the way over there, dummy,” you giggle, pressing play. He can’t find it in himself to focus, the movie being background noise to his thoughts. The hot springs help to add a special glow to your skin, making it seem smoother than before, and you smell so nice, not to mention he can feel his cock throbbing at your soft voice calling out his name. What would it be like if he used his own fingers, would you be able to hold back? Or would you come completely undone as you came on his fingers— even better, his cock? Just the thought has him groaning, head shoved into his pillow as you pause the movie, probably confused.

He looks up, seeing your dazed expression — yep, totally confused. He sighs and shrugs, apologizing. “Are you okay? You seem.. tense,”

“Tense?” That’s one way to describe it, he supposes. “I’m just.. dad was teasing me earlier. That’s why I left. I’m.. remembering what he said,”

“Oh, I get that. Amaya kept teasing me about girl stuff, so I left. Machiko tried to stop me, but I was already out of the water,” you admit. It’s not the full truth, but that’s okay.

“Girl stuff? Like what?” Kōtarō never shied from girly stuff, including the weird stuff that happened to girls like puberty and the menstrual cycle. You chalked it up to his older sisters being shameless, never making it seem gross. Even when you started your period in class, Kōtarō was there to help you, a knight in shining armor.

You wish they were less shameless.

“Oh, um, you know, the romantic stuff,”

“Like? Boyfriends?”

“Yeah, I’ve.. never had one. No experience on my end. Amaya was teasing me because she had a couple of boyfriends before my age, so it.. it didn’t hurt my feelings, but it made me feel some kind of way, you know?” Your attempted explanation was kind of butchered, trying to explain it without giving too much detail. Kōtarō wouldn’t judge you, of course not, it wasn’t something to judge you about.

He knows the feeling, being inexperienced.

“W-Well, if you want any experience before going into the dating scene, I could.. always help you,” he whispers. His words hang in the air, settling into both of your minds. He’s berating himself for using such a lame line to try and get in your pants, but you’re trying to find a way to say yes without seeming desperate. However, “I mean! I have experience, so I could help you! I’d say I’m pretty good at doing stuff. Oh! It could be like.. any advice or something.. hands on,” he whispers the last part again, his confidence melting like snow on a summer’s day when your face falls.

It isn’t you don’t want it, you just would prefer him to not word it like that. It reminds you of Amaya’s words and the pain in your chest, the churn in your stomach. “If you’re gonna be like that, maybe I should ask Keiji,” you huff, turning your body away from his. Focusing on forcing your stomach to stop twisting in knots, you don’t even notice when Kōtarō closes the laptop and presses himself against you. Well, not until you feel something pressing into your back. “Kō—”

“Don’t be like that. I’ve never actually gone all the way, I’ve been saving that for someone special. I can help, though, if you’d let me,” his breath fans over your ear, sending shivers down your spine. His arm snakes under you, pulling you into his stomach while he lays on his back.

“Kōtarō!”

“You’re stressed, gotta loosen up a bit. I’m helping,” he just says, making sure your legs are hooked over his. With the lack of clothing under the robe, your nether region is spread open towards the door, sending your adrenaline skyrocketing. Kōtarō is quick to ease that, his thick fingers spreading open your folds while his middle finger rubs against your sensitive clit. “You’re absolutely soaked, do I turn you on that much?” He’s grinning, you know he is. Gritting your teeth, you keep your mouth closed as you focus on the feeling of his fingers, now sliding up and down and collecting your slick.

Kōtarō doesn’t want to tease you for too long, slipping his middle finger into your cunt as you mewl, hand coming to cover your mouth. “What a reaction. I wonder..” he trails off, pulling his finger out, only to add in three fingers. You’re arching, legs tending against his as he fingers you, lips pressing themselves to your hair and ear. When his tongue flicks out against your ear, you squirm and he grunts, his left arm keeping you firm against him. “Sensitive, are you?”

He doesn’t get any vocal confirmation from you, but the way you’re clenching around his fingers tells him all he needs to know. He makes sure to keep his thumb bumping against your clit, adding pressure. You can feel the familiar feeling, the beginning of an orgasm as he pumps his fingers into you. With a squeal of his name, your nails dig into the meat of his arm, liquids spilling out of you and all over Kōtarō’s fingers. The squishing sound enters your ears, legs tensing as you mewl, his fingers rubbing themselves against you some more.

“You’re so wet.. I bet it’d be easy to slip my cock in there, wouldn’t it?” His voice is low, a rumble in his chest as your cunt clenches at the thought, your wildest fantasies so close to coming to fruition when someone clears their throat. You pop up, Kōtarō jolting and keeping you on his chest as he moves.

Keiji is looking at the both of you, a heavy blush adorning his cheeks. The room is dim, only the lights from outside the inn illuminating him. He’s right at the door, right in front of where Kōtarō was just fingering you. Kōtarō’s hand finally leaves from between your legs, glistening wetness shown in the lamplight. “If you want to give her experience, you need to go over everything involved in foreplay, Kōtarō. There’s more to prep,”

“M-More?” your voice is small, barely a whisper as you find more slick oozing from you, Keiji entering the room. He kneels down in front of you, still held against Kōtarō’s chest.

“Has he even kissed you, yet? Or did he go headfirst into fingering you?” When you shake your head, Kōtarō himself sucking in a breath, Keiji knows he was right. With the elegance he always exudes, Keiji tilts your chin up towards him. “Then, allow me,”

The kiss is gentle, yet not simple. His lips are firmly against yours, molding perfectly as he keeps your chin tilted. As he deepens the kiss, you find your hands grasping at his own robe, feeling yourself lighter than you were when you had entered the room. Keiji moves to pull away, a brisk kiss on your lips once more before swiping his tongue over your bottom lip, sending heat all over your body.

“Akaashi..” Kōtarō whines, his grip on you tightening. “This is supposed to be my time with her,”

“Well, you’re going too fast. Why not elongate the time spent together, hm?” His voice sends tingles down your spine, his hands removing you from Kōtarō’s grasp. “Lay back, Bokuto-san. You’ll get your turn,”

Your brain is going haywire as he speaks, undoing Kōtarō’s robe with unconscious grace. He’s not doing it on purpose, you know he isn’t, it’s just how he is. Once Kōtarō has been disrobed, you find more heat springing to your cheeks as his muscles ripple and flex. The lack of light prevents you from seeing everything, but you’ve always found yourself insatiable when thinking of his broad frame and what hides under his clothes.

“Give me your hand, [Y/N],” Keiji’s voice has you coming back down to earth, yet you find yourself once more shy with Kōtarō’s legs spread, his cock heavy and so large in Keiji’s hand. You comply, though, your much smaller hand joining Keiji’s around Kōtarō’s girth. It’s so much, the way it feels and the heat of the skin under your fingertips. A soft groan comes from Kōtarō as Keiji moves his hand, his other hand shuffling you between his legs.

“This is called a handjob, [Y/N],” Keiji says. You nod in understanding, realizing he’s teaching you. “Moving your hand up and down the shaft is the basic function of it, but you can also use your fingers to tease the slit, like so,” he demonstrates, swiping his thumb over the small slit, puffy and red where Kōtarō’s cum is dripping from. The simple act has Kōtarō throwing his head back, moaning as his hand covers his mouth. The walls are thin and if his family is back, they probably have a good idea of what’s going on.

“I see,” you hum, continuing to move your hand up and down the shaft. Keiji nods, seeing you’re understanding.

“Or tease his balls, like cupping them or massaging. Don’t squeeze them hard, though. It won’t feel very nice,” his hand moves to cup and tease Kōtarō’s balls, the man himself laying on his back as his face turns red, the ministrations getting to be too much. “There’s also a blowjob, but we can teach you that next time,”

“N-Next time??” You squeak, jumping a bit. Whether it was a one time thing or the beginning of a relationship didn’t cross your mind. His words, however, seem to please you more than imaginable.

“Of course, darling. We’re not done here, either. Why don’t you let Bokuto-san show you what other kinds of pleasure he can give you?” At Keiji’s words, Kōtarō pops up with a bright smile on his face.

“Sit on my face, baby,”

“Oh, woah, wow, uh..” you stop, unsure how to politely decline. His mouth and nose, down there? Not to mention your weight on his head? You were sure he’d regret his decision. “I don’t think”

“I’ll be fine. C’mon, I gotta show you what else my mouth can do besides dirty talk,” he winks, sending more heat to your cheeks, making you feel rather hot for a winter’s day, clad in only a robe. Keiji seems to read your mind, taking your robe from your shoulders, the belt falling undone easily from the previous activities. Once you’re down to your birthday suit, Keiji presses a kiss to your shoulder blade, a whisper to go that sends you crawling closer to Kōtarō’s face. He grins, eagerly taking your thigh and placing it on the other side, keeping your drenched cunt close to his face. He says something, but only a muffled noise comes out, his tongue swiping along your folds.

With your back to him, Keiji wishes he told you to face him and watch, yet he finds the scene of you erotic. He may have a bit more expertise than you and Kōtarō, it seems that’s all that’s needed. He smiles, gaze catching on the way Kōtarō’s fingers dig into the fat of your thigh, making indents. Completely forgotten, Keiji spits a glob onto Kōtarō’s cock, him jumping at the feeling. With a few more pumps of his hand, he flicks his tongue against the head.

Kōtarō’s moan has you mewling, the sound acting as a vibration as your fingers tug harshly on the silver and black strands. Though not as long as they were in high school, there’s enough to grasp and pull on. The wet sounds from behind you has your head turning, eyes falling on Keiji’s mouth wrapped around Kōtarō’s cock. It’s an erotic scene, his head moving up as more of the length is revealed, his blue eyes settling on your own as you feel a nip down below. So focused on Keiji, Kōtarō wants your attention all on him. Keiji chuckles, almost like a hum, that vibrates around the cock in his mouth that has Kōtarō moaning.

The tongue that flicks against your clit has you squirming, restrained mewls and moans leaving your lips as hands tug on his locks. Kōtarō licks and suckles on your clit occasionally, then moves down to prod and swipe over your entrance. The position makes it easy for him to breathe, but he moves down further. New position has you squealing, hands flying to your mouth as you squeeze your eyes shut to focus on the pleasure. Another moan from Kōtarō that sends shivers down your spine, heat to your core, accompanying the obscene noises of Keiji sucking Kōtarō off.

With Kōtarō’s nose bumping against your clit, his tongue’s only focus is on your pretty little cunt, sucking and swirling his tongue. The sensitivity from earlier makes quick work of you, hunching over as your thighs tighten around Kōtarō’s head, his strong hands keeping you from hurting him as you gush all over his face. A moan comes from him as he laps at your juices spilling over his face, his own orgasm coming as Keiji takes him down as far as he can. Globs of white cum spurt from the side of Keiji’s mouth, a gagging sound as he struggles to swallow it.

A hand on your shoulder has you leaning back, falling against Keiji’s chest with his cheeks puffy. Kōtarō manages to look up at the scene, gaze fuzzy as he watches Keiji kiss you once more, cum seeping from where his lips meet yours. When Keiji pulls away, his tongue is out, pushing the dripping cum into your mouth where the rest lies. It’s enough to have Kōtarō hard once more, a dark and heavy blush settling across his cheeks and nose.

The thick appendage pressing into your back once more has you gasping and jumping, some cum spilling out your mouth and down your chest. As it travels between the valley of your breasts and over the perk nipples, Keiji takes it upon himself to lap at the milky droplets. You gulp down the rest in your mouth, making a show of it by tilting your head up, throat contracting as you swallow it all. Kōtarō finds himself unable to look away from the scene.

“Ah, seems like someone’s still raring to go,” Keiji breaks the silence, eyes glancing back to look at Kōtarō’s cock, once more standing tall and proud. He then looks to you. “Shall I let you handle this one alone?”