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roosterforme · 7 months

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The Younger Kind Part 53 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is surprised by what Maverick has to tell him, and he's not sure how to convey his mixed feelings to you. The urge to keep everything inside is strong, but you catch on right away and shut it down. In the end, he's not sure he has made the right decision.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, pregnancy topics, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

There was something a bit ominous about the way Maverick said, "Rooster. We need to talk."

Bradley followed him toward the tower immediately, getting more annoyed by the second. This was supposed to be an exciting day. You and Bradley had started telling people you were engaged. It was a shame that Casey was among the first to find out, but Bradley had expected Maverick of all people to remember his plans for the weekend.

But Bradley didn't say a word until they were inside the tower in private. "She said yes, by the way," he told his godfather blandly. "I proposed after the air show."

Maverick grinned and pulled him in for a tight hug that Bradley barely returned. "That's wonderful. I was just about to ask, but I knew she would say yes." He slapped him on the back before releasing him. "So it's safe to tell Penny now?"

Bradley rolled his eyes and couldn't help but smile. "Yeah. It's safe. She can't ruin anything at this point."

Then Maverick's smile started to fade, and Bradley remembered exactly why he had followed him here to begin with. "We really do need to talk, Bradley, and I'm not sure you're going to want to hear this right now."

Bradley braced his hand on the wall next to him and asked, "Are you deploying me?"

"Not exactly," he replied as if he was trying to choose his words very carefully.

But Bradley was so used to being spoiled right now, he didn't have the patience for this. He had you and Noah and now a baby and a wedding, too. "Just spit it out, Mav. Please."

He glanced around and cleared his throat, and Bradley's nerves just got worse when he finally spoke. "Your name came up behind closed doors. The admirals have you listed as a top selection for a training mission."

"What kind of training?" Bradley asked, wishing he would just get on with it.

Maverick's voice dropped lower as he said, "Sixth-generation fighters. Nothing that's available in the U.S. You'd be one of the first to fly them for tactical testing."

"You're joking," Bradley rasped, his body frozen as Maverick shook his head.

"It's no joke. It's also optional. Not your traditional deployment. Nobody is going to force you to go this time. I can't supply you with many more details unless you give your verbal and written agreement to participate, but I can say that this would go a long way toward career advancement."

"Shit."

You were pregnant. This was not the best time to leave for optional training. But six-generation technology was something he might never get to experience during his career unless he partook in this. It would be years, maybe even a decade, before Naval aviators were flying these jets off of carriers for real missions. He knew exactly what this meant. He could be among the very first to take them up in the air, and his flight details could help shape the way these jets were eventually distributed to the United States and used by the military. "Jesus, Mav."

He nodded in response. "I know the timing isn't ideal for you and your family, but it's something you should seriously consider. Go home and talk to your fiancée about it, and if you decide you want to be included in the meeting on Thursday, let me know."

"Right," Bradley muttered. "Am I dismissed?"

"Yeah. Head home. I'll see you tomorrow."

Bradley should have gone directly home and waited for you and Noah to arrive, but instead he took his time in the locker room. He tried to imagine what it would be like to leave you for a few weeks or months while you were pregnant, but it made him feel too uncomfortable. He could turn the opportunity down without even mentioning it to you. That actually sounded like a pretty good plan.

While he showered and got changed, he felt guilty in a different way. He didn't want to hide this from you even though all he wanted to do was protect you. And part of him really wanted to fly these prototype jets. If he did, he could leave a lasting impression on the future of Naval aviation even after he was done spending time in the cockpit.

"Fuck," he muttered as he packed all of his things up for the day and headed outside to his Bronco. It was actually pretty late now, and there was no doubt you were at home with Noah, probably making dinner. But Bradley took a detour to the coffee shop first, and then he stood there like an idiot for a few seconds, because he wasn't sure if you were still supposed to have caffeine or not.

He ended up ordering the decaf version of your favorite drink. Then he asked the barista to borrow a sharpie, and he wrote something new on the cup this time. He stuffed a few dollars into the tip jar and headed home, still completely undecided about what he wanted to do.

---------------------------

Noah was his usual adorable self, and you wanted to be having a good day, but you were exhausted from work and Casey. Dinner was in the oven, and you were taking the time to carefully cut apples into peanut butter snails for Noah to have as his dessert, but Bradley wasn't even home yet.

You were looking forward to getting changed out of your wrinkled scrubs and taking a long shower, which would be much easier to do if he were here. Everything was easier with him around. You started planning a trip to Disneyland on your phone while dinner cooked, but you wanted to run it past him before you booked anything. You smiled softly, knowing Bradley would tell you to put it on your princess card before thanking you for planning the next family vacation. But you had your first doctor's appointment coming up and thought it was better to go to Disneyland after that. But October was looking promising.

When you heard the front door open, and Skittles scampered into the living room, you felt your body sag against the counter in relief. "Daddy's home," you told Noah, and he pushed his new dinosaur coloring book aside and followed after Skittles. You brought up the rear, but that just meant that you'd get the longest hug from Bradley when it was your turn.

"Come here, Mrs. Bradshaw," he rasped after he set Noah and Skittles down, and you were tucked in his embrace with your nose buried against him immediately. It was obvious that he was tired and hungry, but he didn't rush anything. He just held you like his life depended on it. Soft kisses teased along your forehead and temple as he whispered, "I brought you some coffee."

Then you noticed the cup he had set down on the TV stand, and you rubbed your cheek against his chest as you read it. "That's adorable, Daddy." He had scrawled Princess +1 on the cup this time, and it made your face feel warm. "But I think I need to cut back on my caffeine consumption."

"It's decaf, Princess" he whispered, his lips and mustache brushing the shell of your ear.

The soft moan that left your lips had him chuckling as you said, "The baby and I thank you." Then you ditched his arms in favor of the coffee cup. When the kitchen timer went off, you kept your eyes on Bradley as you walked backwards away from him. "After Noah goes to bed, I want to talk about something important. It rhymes with Tisneyland. I thought we could go next month. After I talk to my doctor, of course."

He winced for a split second, but it would have been impossible to miss. Okay. You thought he made it clear he wanted to go on another family trip. Maybe he changed his mind. "Shit," he whispered, swallowing hard. "We can... we can go. No problem. Whenever you want."

The timer was still buzzing, otherwise you would have pressed the issue. Without another word you turned toward the kitchen and grabbed the oven mitts so you could get dinner on the table. But Bradley was acting strange. He even seemed more subdued with Noah which had you worried.

"What happened at work?" you asked, sliding a plate of dinner in front of him.

He shrugged. "Just a regular day. But I did tell Nat we're engaged." At least he smiled when he said that, and then he reached for you, looking up at you as you stood next to him. "Hey, I can't wait to go to Tisneyland with you."

You couldn't help but laugh, but you said, "We don't have to go in October. We can go next year or never. I just thought it was something you wanted to do."

"Book it," he said, squeezing your hip before dropping his hand. "I'll request a day off as soon as you book it after your appointment. We can take a long weekend."

Something was wrong, and you couldn't place it. But his eyes were clouded with doubt and your stomach soured so much, you could barely eat your own dinner. This didn't feel like the sweet man who agreed to go to daycare drop off with you this morning simply because you didn't want to go alone. When you offered to get Noah ready for bed, he agreed without really paying any attention to your words.

"Come here, Sweet Noah," you whispered after Bradley kissed him goodnight, clearly distracted. You got him into his pajamas and got his teeth brushed, and like usual, he was yawning before his head even hit the pillow. You started to read him the book about farm animals that you picked out a few months ago with Bradley, and even though he was sound asleep by page two, you finished reading it just to have a few extra minutes with him.

Eventually you found Bradley sitting on the couch with Skittles on his lap. When you leaned against the doorway, he held his hand out to coax you forward. "You didn't tell me about your day," he said softly.

"I tried to during dinner, but it's like you weren't even there," you bit back, not moving an inch. "What's wrong? You change your mind about getting married?" you asked, holding up your left hand and spinning the ring loose with your fingers. "Or about the baby?"

Now he was up off the couch in an instant, Skittles looking rather alarmed by his sudden movement. "Hey," Bradley snarled, pulling you against him with his left hand and using his right fingers to push your ring back into place. "Don't say that. It's never going to happen."

"Then what's wrong?" you asked, giving him no room to continue to be vague and weird with you. "Just tell me."

"You gonna keep that ring on?" he asked, and you saw a flash of everything you loved so much about him in his eyes.

You pressed up onto your toes and kissed him. "Yes," you whispered before kissing him again and again. "I'll keep it on. Just tell me what's wrong."

He pulled you toward the couch, and after he sat, you straddled his lap while Skittles curled up on the cushion next to you. "Nothing's wrong," he whispered, his big hands sliding down your hips to your thighs, stroking you through the thin fabric of your pants. He was staring at your name where it was embroidered on your scrub shirt instead of meeting your eyes. "Earlier today, Maverick told me about something... interesting."

"Go on," you whispered, raking your fingers through his soft hair. "I already know something's bothering you, so just say it, Daddy."

He nodded slightly and kissed your forearm before he finally met your gaze. "It sounds like there's a brand new fleet of aircrafts with technology updates that have never been flown by American pilots before. I'm on a short list of aviators who have been invited to train on these jets overseas, most likely in the hopes that the Navy will adopt these planes in the future."

You nibbled on your lip and considered his words. "So, it's kind of like a deployment?" you asked, still dragging your fingers through his hair as you scooted a little closer.

"Sort of," he said softly. "But it's optional. And I'm going to tell Mav I don't want to go. I'll be here, okay? We can go to Disneyland next month."

You studied his handsome face, and while he looked more relaxed now that he told you what Maverick said, you knew that wasn't the end of it. You pieced it together in your mind and leaned the rest of the way to his lips. He accepted your kiss as he rubbed his hands slowly along your thighs. You hummed and let your forehead rest against his.

Your voice was calm as you asked, "But you do want to go, don't you?"

He remained quiet, but he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you so your body was flush against his and your cheek was resting on his shoulder. You relaxed against the steady rise and fall of his chest and the soothing beating of his heart.

When he finally spoke, his voice was gravelly and deep, and it made you shiver. "The last thing I want is to be away from you and Noah and the baby. I don't want you under the impression that those thoughts are on my mind, okay? That's not what this is."

"I believe you, Bradley," you whispered against his neck. "But this sounds like a big deal. You made the list? Over so many other people? They chose you to try something brand new?"

His voice was a little more forceful as he said, "I do not want to leave you alone right now. It wouldn't be fair."

You kissed your way up his neck until your lips found his earlobe, and you kissed him there, too. You inhaled the smell of his shampoo as you said, "I love you, and I want to support you as much as you support me. If you want to do this, then I think you should."

There was no denying that you felt safer and more loved when you were with Bradley than you ever had before. But this was his career, and it sounded like he had a chance to be part of something huge.

"You're right, Baby. I do want to go."

You nodded as he held you. "Do you have any other details?"

"No. There's a meeting on Thursday that I can sit in on if I let Mav know I'm interested, but I doubt I'll get a ton of information short of a departure date and maybe a location unless I sign on for this thing."

You kissed his cheek and pulled away so you could look at his face. "Next time, just tell me what's on your mind instead of trying to make an important decision without me."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, reaching for your left hand and kissing your palm and the spot where the band of your engagement ring wrapped around your finger. "But next time, don't even pretend like you're taking this thing off."

"I won't."

--------------------------

Somehow Bradley made it all the way to the meeting on Thursday, his curiosity piqued. When he found out where the meeting was being held, he was even more surprised.

"Come to Admiral Simpson's office promptly at one o'clock," Maverick told him, and Bradley silently thanked you for clearing things up with Cyclone the way you had. There was no way his name would have made it onto any list if you didn't send the man a glass of bourbon at Warlock's retirement party.

"I'll be there," he promised. And if he was surprised by the location, he was even more surprised when he showed up to find Cyclone and Maverick waiting for him and him alone.

"Sir?" Bradley asked, standing until he was given permission to sit. He knew better than to ask a single question about the training before he had some information to work with, but his brain was swirling nonstop. You and he stayed up last night making a list of things he needed to know before making a decision. For example, Bradley desperately wanted to fly these sixth-gen fighters, but he wasn't willing to be gone for months on end. Hell, you still hadn't seen your doctor yet. That appointment wasn't happening until Monday.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw," Cyclone said, pushing a folder toward Bradley as he sat down behind his desk. "We chose you for this training protocol. Only you. If you are unwilling, then we will regroup and try to select someone else. However, time is tight and details are going to be scarce unless you agree to participate. Do you understand?"

"I understand, Sir," he replied, and then Cyclone tapped his fingers on the folder before releasing it to Bradley.

Maverick was standing near the window, and Bradley got the feeling that his godfather was proud of him. He still wasn't sure why he was the only one here, but as he opened the folder and skimmed the pages, many of his immediate questions were answered.

As soon as he saw it, he shook his head. "You want me to fly to Japan on Monday morning? Because if that's a hard set date, then my immediate answer is no."

He closed the folder and started to hand it back to Cyclone who was sharing a look with Maverick. "And if we could push it to Tuesday?" he asked without taking the folder.

"I'm listening," Bradley replied, honestly wondering what he had that the other pilots didn't.

Maverick stepped away from the window. "Bradl- Lieutenant Bradshaw," he corrected right away. Bradley realized it was hard for both of them to separate their professional relationship from the personal one they shared, especially when they did things like take family vacations together. "This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. You were chosen for your skill set and the way you prioritize communication. We don't want to have to select someone else, especially when we believe you'd be the best pilot available."

Cyclone cleared his throat and added, "Consider Tuesday morning your new departure time. Do you have an answer?"

Bradley blinked at him a few times, glanced down at the information in the folder, and then looked up again. "You need me to give you an answer right now? Sir?"

He nodded once and folded his hands. "Before you leave my office."

---------------------------

You were too tired to do anything after work except pick Noah up from preschool. Seriously, if Casey even tried to talk to you, it was going to be her funeral. But for once, luck was on your side, because she wasn't even there. You signed Noah out without incident and headed home to talk about this special training mission.

Bradley must have learned his lesson from earlier this week. You couldn't believe he was about to make a decision without you like that, just to try to save you the stress. You could handle it. After your appointment on Monday, you could handle anything that came your way.

When he got home shortly after you did, he told you immediately that he needed to talk to you. He kissed Noah on the top of his head and pulled you to the kitchen doorway, a frantic look on his face as he stroked your cheek with his fingers. "I'm going."

Your heart plummeted. He really did decide without talking to you about the details. You wanted him to go, but you also wanted to talk about the pros and cons with him first. But in the end, you really had no say here at all. "You are? I thought we were going to talk it through."

"We were," he whispered. "That was my intention, Princess. But they made me decide before I could leave Cyclone's office."

You made a concerned face. "Cyclone's office? How did everyone fit in there?"

Bradley shook his head, his cheeks a little ruddy from frustration or embarrassment, you weren't sure which. "They didn't, Princess. It was just me. I was the whole list of people."

"Oh," you gasped. It was hard for you to understand at times that he was at the top of his career, because he was just as devoted to his life at home. With you and Noah. "Where are you going? And when do you leave?"

"Japan," he rasped, his face full of guilt now. "And I leave on Tuesday morning."

The pounding of your heart was making you feel nauseous. "Tuesday?"

He nodded. "They originally wanted me to leave on Monday, and if that was the case, I was ready to turn it down, no further questions asked."

"You were?"

His eyes went wide. "I'm not missing the first appointment for something optional."

You nodded slowly, because that brought up your next question. You sensed he might be missing subsequent appointments. "When will you be back?"

He wrapped his hands around your hips and pulled you closer to him. "I have no idea."

Then you started to cry, and you felt like such an idiot. You wanted him to go. You wanted him to have this experience and impact new pilots in the future, but you also thought you'd have a little more time before he left. "Just come back safely," you whispered while he let you cry in his arms.

--------------------------

Bradley noticed right away that you were a little distant. Maybe you needed a day or two to process everything, but in another day or two, he'd be packing and leaving. He thought he was doing what you wanted him to, but you cried yourself to sleep on Thursday. You were obviously exhausted and frankly kind of moody, and now he was kicking himself for agreeing to a training mission that had no disclosed ending date.

"Fuck," he grunted on Saturday afternoon when he took Noah to the park so you could have some time to yourself. Pretty soon, you'd be on single, pregnant parent duty around the clock for probably weeks on end. Bradley's guilt was really prevalent now.

"Daddy?" Noah asked as he was being pushed on the swing.

"Yeah, Bub?"

"Can I have a Halloween costume?"

"Of course," Bradley groaned, cradling his forehead in his hand. Halloween was still six weeks away, but he could already imagine the tears in his son's eyes if he wasn't home in time for trick-or-treating. Hell, he hadn't even explained to Noah that he was going away again yet. "You can pick something out with Mommy," he added, his voice harsh now.

Noah looked back at him over his shoulder and started to slow himself down. When he jumped out of the swing, he ran to Bradley who scooped him up. "Can we go home?" he asked. He wrapped his arms around Bradley's neck like he could tell he needed a hug. "I miss Mommy and Skittles."

Bradley kissed his son's cheek. "You know what? I miss them, too. Let's go home." He buckled Noah in and drove slowly. He should probably start packing tonight, but he was just dying to spend some time alone with you. The last thing he wanted was to return to a quiet house and a quiet fiancée right now. You and he were going to need to have another conversation about this, and he already felt like a jerk for wanting to have everything.

When he pulled into the driveway as the sun was starting to set, you were in the front yard with Skittles on her leash. You were wearing one of your little floral dresses, and Bradley almost ran into your car as he looked at you. God, he was stupid for voluntarily agreeing to leave you. Once he was parked, you opened the back door and started unbuckling Noah and lifting him out like the most devoted mom in the world, and Bradley was about to lose his mind if he couldn't sort this out tonight.

"Hey, Daddy," you said softly as you turned, holding a very sleepy looking Noah against your shoulder. "Should we feed him dinner and get him in bed?"

"I think so," Bradley replied, eyeing you up and down, his gaze catching on your glossy lips. "You look gorgeous. Why are you all dressed up?"

You shrugged like it was nothing. "I just wanted to look cute for you."

His eyebrows shot up in response. "Don't you always?"

A soft smile found your lips as you started to head for the front door with Noah. Bradley followed you inside, and once Noah was eating leftovers, he pulled you into the hallway where he pushed you back against the wall.

"Does this mean we can talk about some things tonight?" he asked, stroking your bottom lip before kissing you softly.

You moaned gently into his mouth as his weight pressed against you. "Yes," you whispered. "Of course. We can talk about anything you want."

"You told me you wanted me to fly this mission," he said, and you nodded before you kissed the tip of his nose.

"I know. And I do. I just needed to process everything. The timeline just threw me off a little bit. And if I'm being honest, it's never not going to be scary when you leave."

"I'm coming back," he promised, knowing full well he only had so much control over that. "I'm coming back to my family as soon as I can."

This time when you nodded, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the lips. "I know, Daddy," you whimpered between filthy kisses, rubbing yourself against him. He rutted you back into the wall, and you moaned his name as he cupped your ass. And that's when he felt it, firm against his fingertips compared to the softness of your body.

"Fuck," he grunted, easing your dress up inch by inch until he was touching the silicone.

"Do you want me to put my crown on to match?" you asked sweetly as he spread you open wider with his hands. "I can be your going away present."

Bradley leaned closer until his lips were pressed to your ear. "I want you in bed with your crown on as soon as Noah's asleep. Then I'm going to fuck the absolutely shit out of you. And then after that, I'm going to make love to you until you're satisfied. And then we're going to talk about everything that's going to happen while I'm in Japan until we're both comfortable with all of it. And then we're going to start planning our wedding."

"Yes," you agreed. "That's exactly how I want to spend our evening."

----------------------------

Just a few more chapters left. Do you think he made a good decision? Leaving Princess right now? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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639 notes · View notes

kisakis-boyfriend · 3 days

Note

any juice for baby boy shinichiro?

when ppl put him with a partner who is taller, extremely attractive and just generally insanely out of his league...ive seen some ppl write this exact trope for both male and female readers and omg its so satisfying for the soul. + his friends reacting to how the fuck did shin pull a big dick supermodel. godtier trope

nsfw but genuinely do what you prefer either way!! love to read everything you put out, regardless of the contents or characters haha

♦️

Author's Note: I made the reader a literal model because I really like that idea, hehe. HCs + scenarios filled with plenty of sub Shin getting his entire world rocked, just for you, anon! 😜

Pairings: Shinichiro x male reader

Warnings: Male model!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Shinichiro, risky sex, sixty-nine, size kink, mild hand fetish

• Who would ever think that Mr. Handsome who visits the local mechanic shop was actually dating the shop's owner?! No one, clearly

• Customers whisper amongst themselves after you and Shinichiro step into the office in the back, and, if they're lucky, they might catch a glimpse of you two locking lips

• Or a glimpse of your strong arms bending Shin over his own desk. They try to avert their gaze once they realize that you're about to pound the store owner's brains out right then and there

• On many occasions, he's had to take off work the next day because his legs have become jelly… and if you really feel bad for him, you'll give in when he sniffles “You'll need to take care of me while I recover :(”

• It's not any different when your lovely partner comes to visit you at work. Photographers can be impossibly picky some days, and when you pose for hours in little to no clothing for, yet another, underwear ad, it is nice to see your lover's smiling face walk through the door

• Shinichiro brings you lunch—made by his own hands, of course—complete with a note or doodle. And when he doesn't cook, you'll jump at the opportunity to leave the studio for a lunch break together

• The crew at the studio are always annoyed at how long you're gone, but what they don't realize is that more than half of your "lunch break" is just you and Shinichiro banging in the public bathroom

• Shinichiro isn't short, though when he stands next to you, he sure feels like it… you're nearly a foot taller than him (or more) and quite muscular to boot. And yes, you will use these facts to tease him

His arm stretches as far as it can, but it's just not enough to reach the item he needs on the tippity top shelf. He calls out to you for assistance, and you stroll into the room, grinning mischievously as the gears turn in your head.

“Aw, shorty can't reach it all by himself?”

Shinichiro pouts, “I'm not short, you're just too tall! …But I do need help getting that down please…” he relents.

“Of course.” to his surprise, he's suddenly lifted up by his waist, now at the correct height to reach what he needs. With embarrassment quickly setting in, Shinichiro snatches the item then stammers for you to "put him down, now!"

He thinks himself safe when his feet touch the floor again, but it's only for a second. As quickly as you let go of his waist, you spin him around and plop him on top of the counter. The blush dusting his cheeks begins to show as you still tower over him, even now. His eyes slowly close as you kiss him—eagerly pushing your tongue past his lips and pulling a few moans out of him.

…aaaand just like that, you pull away and leave. Leaving behind a lightheaded mechanic with a newfound throbbing sensation between his thighs.

• If it's not obvious yet, I do think Shin would have a bit of a size kink. Maybe he doesn't realize it until he's actually with you, but it's definitely there

• Someone larger than him, laying their weight on his back while a massive cock fills him so much that it creates a stomach bulge? Yeah, that's the good shit 🥴

• I just had an image of 69'ing with Shinichiro pop into my head… ugh

Wrapping your lips around his pretty dick while he struggles to take half of yours. His tip is leaking already, and you gladly accept everything that drips out and onto your tongue.

Shin arches his back, enjoying all of these sensations; your hot mouth around his cock. Your cock pushing further and further into his mouth. Your hands spreading his cheeks apart and–

“Mmgh~ babe, please…”

“Please what?” you ask, popping off his dick long enough to ask a question that you already know the answer to.

A groan echoes within his throat, garbling the words attempting to escape through his lips. “D-do it… I can take it.”

With a serious fire lit within you, you suck his cock deeper into your mouth. Gently, at first, a finger eases its way into Shin's hole, making him arch deeper and dig his nails into the skin of your thighs. Soon after that, a surge of cum surprises you, shooting down your throat as you're forced to swallow it. Poor baby is apologizing when he hears your choked moaning… he didn't mean to cum yet, you just made him feel so fucking good 🥺

• He looooves having your hands on him~

-> Hands holding his waist while you slide into him. Breath heavy and right in his ear, whispered words of praise and how fucking tight he is

-> Hands connecting with his as you pin him down and steal (yet another) kiss

-> Hands working their magic on his erection. Both hands wrapping around his cock, milking more out of him like a relentless living fleshlight

-> Hands combing through his messy hair after a ride in the town. Detangling the knots as best as you can before he takes a shower

-> Hands on his lips, sliding into his mouth while you coo “Good boy~”

-> Hands scissoring his hole open. Making his knees wobble as you take it nice and slow, rhythmically pumping in and out with your thick fingers

-> Hands wiping tears from his eyes on your wedding day ❤️

• Uh um, yeah… moving on 😵‍💫

• Now, since you're a model, Shinichiro has gotten some unwanted attention from random strangers and paparazzi. It's mostly when you're seen together, but some fans have even shown up at his shop just to ask if you were there 🤐

• You're very quick to tell anyone off though. Polite, if possible, yet stern all the same. Because gods help any person who's dumb enough to lay a hand on your man, or even make him uncomfortable in the slightest. All of your muscles aren't just for show

• And, as a model, you have been known to pull a few strings. Only a few times. But you were able to have Shin as a guest for a few magazine covers or spreads

It's hard to act professional when his beloved is basically nude��nothing except the brand's boxers to cover that thang that makes Shinichiro squirmy and wet.

The photographer wants some rather intimate shots of Shinichiro sitting on your lap, facing you. The makeup on his face does help hide the growing blush, but to you, as you sit merely inches apart—it's quite obvious.

You also notice the semi-boner underneath his own set of boxers… you have to remind him that this is a professional setting, and he needs to calm down or you'll both get in trouble. But honestly, how can he? Even staring into your gorgeous eyes would be enough to turn him on!

Gently, you rub his back and whisper to him “Keep it together here, and I'll give you a private show later tonight, ok?” To which Shinichiro enthusiastically shakes his head, nearly making himself dizzy.

Oh, the things you do to him later~

• Now, about his friends and family……… yeah they have no idea how the hell Shin is dating you

• They don't mean it in a rude way either. It's just, you're literally actually a model… you're insanely attractive, handsome, breathtaking, kinda fuckin rich?, and so on and so forth. So, what made you choose to stay in Shinichiro's hometown (save for business trips and vacations) as opposed to, oh I don't know, living in some mansion or beach house surrounded by other models?????

• Every single time, your answer is the same: “Because I love him and want to spend the rest of my life with him”

• Yes, your career is important to you, but you can travel when need be for that. Shinichiro Sano lives here, and you're not willing to give him up

• As siblings do, Shinichiro's younger ones definitely make fun of him for being with someone way way waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyy out of his league. But it's all in good fun. Besides, they're also protective of him, and make sure you know that, if you ever break Shin's heart, they'll break a leg or two :) (especially Izana… that guy kind of scares you… except he's also a sweetheart once he realizes that you also care about his brother)

#my writing #requested #shinichiro sano #shinichiro smut #shinichiro x reader #shinichiro x male reader #sub shinichiro #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x male reader #tokyo rev smut #tokyo revengers smut #male reader #dom reader #top reader #dom male reader #sub male character #headcannons #scenario

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sunkeji · 1 year

Note

Heyyy can i ask for tsukishima and sakasu were them and the reader try those periods simulation things! The reader is all fine and chill while the boys are screaming bloody murder and asking how the reader deals with these on a monthly basis! Separately please! Thank you!!!!

Period simulator ft. Tsukishima & Sakusa

a/n: I'm sorry I got to this late!! I didn't like how I wrote it originally so I scrapped the whole thing and redid it. Hopefully you like this (⁠^⁠^⁠)

Warnings: curse word used in sakusa's part, not proofread, if taken out of context it sounds pretty weird,it feels like i wrote a descriptive essay.

Imagine you make a bet against your boyfriend that if he was a girl, he wouldn't be able to bear the pain of period cramps but he says otherwise. So after that conversation with him, you purchase a period simulator to try during the weekend with him. Sitting on the couch side by side with the period simulator between you two, he steels himself for what's about to come while you are brimming with anticipation.

Tsukishima Kei

He was super confident at first that he would be able to withstand the pain. Not because he undermines the pain of period cramps but because he thinks he has a high pain tolerance. But little does he know...

At the first setting, it was still alright. It was uncomfortable, but still bearable. He brushed off your teasing comments, telling him that it's okay to back out now if it was too painful. He merely rolled his eyes and quipped back, saying he could go to sleep at this setting.

You crank the pain to level 3 and you see Tsukishima jolt. You give him a teasing smile and he quickly says that it was just very sudden and how he didn't expect it and blah blah blah.

You don't even give him a minute to get use to it when a mischievous smile makes its way to your face and you switch it to the highest setting.

Just as quickly as you switched its setting to the highest, you hear a quiet whimper come out of him. The both of you freeze and time seems to have stopped save for the ticking of the clock in the living room.

You hit him with the:

You open your mouth and are about to say something but he quickly interjects in a quiet voice; "no, keep it to yourself, I don't want to hear it" all while avoiding eye contact. You know he's not being mean, just a bit embarrassed or sulky maybe 🤔 so you don't take it to heart.

After that whole fiasco, he made you promise to not utter a single word to anyone about this. And one more time you bring up the fact that the great Tsukishima Kei had actually whimpered, he might actually strangle you for real this time.

Jokes aside, He's left speechless that you actually have to deal with this each time you get your period. He's much nicer to you now when you're on your period, You get less sass from him when on your period and he's more understanding of your situation now.

Sakusa Kiyoomi

Can’t believe you actually bought it. Scolds you for wasting your money but since you’ve already bought it, might as well try it. He pretends like this whole thing is a nuisance but he is actually very curious.

He’s kinda nervous because from what he’s seen with you on days where your period cramps are really bad, it looks like you’re suffering from an unknown stomach disease that’s plagued the entire female population in the world and you are just another one of its victims.

Some very tiny part of him wants to be tough and show you that he’s strong but in actuality, he’s in for a rude awakening. He takes level 1 and 2 like a breeze but when you turn it up to level 3, beads of sweat are rolling down his forehead and he’s gripping the armrest of the couch and the veins in his arm are visible.

You glance at him, waiting for another reaction but when nothing else happens, you feel a tad bit disappointed and tell him you’ll put it to the highest setting now. He’s about to protest and reaches out to grab your arm but the intensity of the period simulator takes him by surprise and instead he ends up grabbing your thigh and squeezes it hard.

Now the both of you are screaming profanities and are thrashing around. If he doesn’t let go, you can’t adjust the setting of the period simulator. And if you don’t adjust the settings of the period simulator, he can’t let go because it hurts like a bitch. It’s a whole never ending cycle.

So its a few seconds of the two of you thrashing around before you reach under his shirt and yank the wires and simulator off of him. Then, it’s just the sounds of the two of you heavily breathing and trying to catch your breaths. You turn to him and your eyes go wide when you see he actually has a few tears rolling down his cheeks as he stares at you blankly.

Now you’re left wondering what’s the appropriate course of action. Do you start cackling like a maniac because you never thought he’d start crying then console your boyfriend or do it the other way around? Well you didn’t have to think about it for long because a few seconds later, his head fell ontop of your lap with his arm covering his eyes.

You ask him if he’s feeling okay with a goofy smile plastered on your face from the event that had previously unfolded. You hoped your boyfriend wouldn’t move his arm now otherwise he’d pinch you for smiling at his misery. He mumbles softly about how he just needs a few minutes to recollect himself and then he’ll be good to go. So in the meantime, you brush your fingers through his hair. After a few minutes or so he asks you with a sigh; “You’ll never let this go will you?”. You laugh and plant a kiss on his head “Nope!”

You remind him how it feels even worse by adding the nausea, dizziness and low blood pressure you may get. So now he takes extra good care of you 🫶 he feeds you lots of red meat, refills your water bottle and even gives you massages anywhere you're feeling sore.

#haikyuu x reader #tsukishima x reader #kei x reader #tsukishima x reader fluff #tsukishima kei x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader fluff #haikyuu x reader fluff #taking care of you on your period #hq x reader

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nicoline1998enilocin · 1 year

Text

Take care of my love

PAIRING | Loki Laufeyson x Avenger!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1K

SUMMARY | You have been struggling lately, and the rest of the Avengers are starting to take notice of this. One night, Thor approaches you and catches you off-guard, making you suddenly feel very self-conscious about your arms and legs. Loki happens to be nearby and notices, making sure you're feeling safe as he comes to your rescue.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Mentions of past self-harm, mentions of depression, Thor being an asshole, Loki being a really great friend.

A/N | I’d love to start writing more for Loki, so if you have a request, please let me know! It can be fluff, smut or angst - or a combination! Thanks in advance 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Main Masterlist | Loki Laufeyson Masterlist

You haven't been in the best headspace lately, and it is starting to show. Not just in the way you dress or look, but in your behavior too. Usually, you don't mind people seeing your scars nowadays, especially the Avengers, but your depression has been catching up with you again. The missions have been getting harder and it is difficult for you to stay focused when you're even going on one to begin with. Where you used to be the light of every room you walk into, now you're feeling like you bring everyone down with you as your mood turns sour very quickly.

You've rarely gotten out of bed these last few days, and your hygiene has been suffering as a result. When Steve calls you in for another mission, you text him to say you can't go, because you're not feeling well but you don't want to talk about it. He accepts but he's worried regardless, he's seen you go down a spiral like this before. Not much later, he's at your door, knocking softly. ''Y/N? Can I come in?'' he says but you send him away. ''Okay, but please take care of yourself, okay?'' he asks and you don't answer, you don't have the strength.

That evening, you have a sudden burst of energy, and decide to take advantage of it by taking a shower and getting yourself cleaned up a little. When you're done it's already close to midnight, so you just put on a pair of sleep shorts and a sports bra, so you can get a snack and something to drink before diving back into your bed. You look at yourself in the mirror and your eyes go over the scars on your arms, legs, and stomach, some from battle, but most from the years of self-harm. Some faded into almost nothing, some still pink from the fact that they're relatively fresh. You haven't done it in almost three months, but the scars don't fade that quickly, and you're well aware.

You finally manage to rip yourself away from the mirror and you walk towards the kitchen, not expecting anyone. When you arrive in the kitchen, however, you're met with a surprise in the form of a certain God of Thunder, as Thor is sitting in the kitchen eating a snack. ''Hey Y/N-'', he says before the rest of the words die in his mouth, and his eyes are grazing over your scars. You want to curl into a ball and cry right about now, because you're extremely uncomfortable at this moment, but you're trying to stay strong. ''What the… I thought you stopped harming yourself,'' Thor says as he walks up to you with big steps, and grabs your arms into his big hands.

''Thor, please let me go,'' you whimper, tears starting to trickle down your face. ''Not before you tell me why-'' he says bluntly, but suddenly you hear a familiar voice behind you. ''Brother, I believe the lady said she wants you to let go,'' Loki says and Thor immediately does, but not before looking at them for a few more seconds. ''I thought you didn't-'' he starts, but Loki doesn't let him finish. ''Stop, she's already in enough distress as is right now. Just go and don't be such a dick next time,'' he says shortly to Thor and he pulls his eyes away from you. ''I'm sorry,'' is all he says before walking out of the kitchen, and you sink into your knees, sobbing uncontrollably at this point.

''Is it okay if I touch you? I just want to hold you in my arms until you calm down, that's all,'' Loki says as he crouches in front of you, and you nod with your face in your hands. He wraps his arms around you softly as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear, calming you down. The two of you stay like that for what feels like forever, and multiple Avengers came to check up on you, but Loki whisked them away without saying a word. He didn't have to, because they all knew he had it under control, he is taking care of you right now.

When your sobs have turned down to soft sniffles, you take your hands away from your face and you look at Loki, who gives you nothing but a look of pure adoration. ''Hi beautiful girl, I'm glad to have you back,'' he says as he softly runs his fingers through your hair. ''Do you want me to bring you to your bedroom?'' he asks and you nod, and he picks you up so your wrap your arms and legs around his shoulders and waist. ''Ah, you're my little koala bear now!'' he softly jokes and you chuckle a little because he's not wrong.

All you can think of is how grateful you are right now. In all honesty, the two of you haven't spoken that many times, but you've always been nice to each other. You never expected him to do this, however, but you'll soak up every second of it while it lasts. He softly strokes your back in circles as he walks you to your bedroom, and he can feel you physically relax in his hold. ''It's okay, beautiful, you're going to be okay,'' he says in your hair and smiles softly. He's glad he can help you like this, and he's honestly happy that he walked by when he did, because he doesn't want to think about what happened if he hadn't.

When the two of you arrived in your bedroom, he softly puts you down on the bed, and as he wants to walk away, you finally say something. ''Thank you, Loki. For saving me,'' you say, and all he says in response is ''Please, don't mention it. I'm just taking care of my love,'' he says before bending over and placing a kiss on your forehead. ''Stay, please,'' you say and he does. He strips down until he's just wearing pants before climbing in the bed with you, as you curl up into his arms, your head against his chest. ''We're going to talk about this later, right now, you need your sleep,'' he says and you agree, slowly falling into a deep sleep in his arms. You've never felt safer in your entire life than you do right now.

#loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x female reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x y/n #loki laufeyson fanfiction #loki laufeyson fluff #loki laufeyson angst #loki #loki x female reader #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki fanfiction #loki fluff #loki angst

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tan1shere · 8 months

Text

Too Late

Ellie Williams x female reader

A/n: it's just one of those days for angst 😍 I put my whole heart into this I hope you all enjoy it <3 also did the paragraphs differently idk which layout I should do. This or my normal one...

Summary: Ellie was blind to it all. But so were you. Blind by her sweet little remarks, sucked in. You fell first but she fell incredibly harder once she realized she'd lost you entirely.

Warnings: not much just angsty angst my friends. NO HAPPY ENDING hehehe sorry not sorry ;)

Masterlist

Tears threatening to spill. For what felt like the thousandth time that week, you've been crying your heart out. Yes that's right, crying over someone who doesn't even glance at you, the way you would like. Doesn't even want anything to do with you... The way you'd like. How could you be so stupid to fall, to cry when they haven't even done anything. Ellie williams, your best friend. Well not right now. You two have been drifting and it hurt like anything. Shes very affectionate towards you, so much that at some points you wonder if she could ever like you for more. You were very stupid to think that even for a second.

Sitting in your room, alone. Text after text. You just wanted to wither away into thin air. Your eyes stung from the constant truckle of tears. But what hurt more, were the texts weren't even from the one person you wanted it to be. You were a bit younger than Ellie, so maybe she just thought of you as a child. That roamed around your brain for what felt like hours. Overthinking to the absolute max. You just wish your brain would zip it. Stop talking to you, just stop. It was silly to think that someone as amazing as her, would ever go for a wreck like you. Turning over in your bed, trying to get your brain to stop antagonizing you.

Fast forward a few days later, you were in your last class of the day, eyes droopy. Dark. Sore. Every possible thing that wasn't good. You were pale from lack of sun, just genuinely looking dead. Exactly how you felt deep inside. Dead. Dead. DEAD. "Y/n?" You get pulled out of your depressing thoughts by a voice. Her voice. You swallow, worried if you look at her you might break and crumble. You turn around looking at your feet, avoiding everything. "Hey, you haven't been in classes recently." You close your eyes for a split second praying that in some random universe this was all a silly dream.

That you were safe in your bed, dreaming this all. But no, ofcourse not. This was reality, she was talking to you and all you wanted to do was puke. Hurl. Your mind was racing. "Everything alright?" Your mouth goes dry, feeling like you can't form any words. You really were dead. So you do the only thing you could think of and just nod. "Babe are you sure?" There it was. That hope. That name. You kept everything in you not to let go completely and just run off to your small apartment, as you didn't live on campus. You finally look up at her, going to be strong as you had finished for the day. Not long to go now. "I'm sure. Just tired." She nods. "Ok well I want you to come with me this avo, I'm having a small party at mine. I miss you, please come."

Does she not understand what she's doing to your little heart. You feel it break more, every single day. You don't know how much longer you can keep going until it fully breaks in half. Jagged edges pinching your organs with that sting of pain. Or do you get over it once that's happened, maybe you want her to hurt you just that much, so even if you're broken you have nothing left to give. No more worries. "Yeah maybe." You go to leave not wanting to continue this any further. But she grabs your wrsit stopping you. "Please. I've missed you these past few weeks. And I have something really exciting to show you." For the first time in what felt like a decade you smile.

She was poisoning you. Your tiny heart started to mend again. Heartbreaking as it was you still loved her so much. You were inlove with her. "Okay, I'll be there." You were still so stupid.

Later on rolled round pretty quickly, your spark had come back again, you still looked like a bit of a mess but nothing a little makeup couldn't fix. Hiding those bags, and dark circles. You decided to wear something cute, maybe in hopes she'd fully see you for you. As you were approaching the dorm room that Ellie lived in you were smiling ear to ear, then suddenly everything in you fades. The door was open music booming, people everywhere. But you saw her. And she wasn't alone. A pretty girl was perched on her lap, they were laughing. Everything went buzzy. Your ears, numb. Your body. She sees you and smiles. Coming over to you hand in hand with this girl.

She looks to be Ellies age. Making your overthinking come face to face with you, as it was true. "Hey, you came! Id like you to meet Layla." You stare at both of them unsure of how to even process anything right now. Your brain was muddled. Hurt. So hurt. Your heart ached. The girl doesn't really say much she just smiles. You get a gross feeling. But you being you. You stay silent. Letting it hurt quietly, not wanting to ruin how happy she looks. But it isn't with you. You gulp thickly. Wanting to do nothing but go home and melt into your sheets.

"I- uhm. I have to go." You abruptly say, letting your small body wisk off, you get into your car and sit there. Feeling like a broken bone, not yet sunk in as the shock still consumes you. But when it hits you. It hits hard. You sob, cry. Break down, putting your head on the steering wheel as you let your heart out. You had gotten your hopes up. Again. In hopes that she'd love you like you loved her. You hit the steering wheel, sobbing with every bit of strength you have left. And just like that your heart was fully broken, no amount of super glue would fix it. No, nothing would fix the ache. The sting. You let out a pained scream as you rest your head back, knowing you can't drive like this.

You get out your phone and call for an Uber, you could pick up your car in the morning when you felt a bit better. But who are you kidding you'd never feel good ever again. It's like the person in you has just deflated. Gone. As you get out you hear her voice. You don't even know if it was a dream or reality. But you didn't care for the calls you couldn't. "What the hell was that." You then hear. You stop in your tracks. Is she really going to be putrid right now. "What...?" You don't turn around. "You heard me, what the fuck is up with you lately." You start to cry more, frustration starting to fuel your body. You slowly turn around. "Are you stupid Williams.." She squints at you. "Excuse me?" You stay silent. Not even sure what to say to her.

"Babe. Just talk to m-" That's when you lost it. "No. NO. stop fucking calling me that. God Ellie. After all these years you don't even fucking know me!" You get a bit sidetracked, letting everything in. "Dont stand there calling me that, you don't know how much it hurts me. When your off with someone else, leaving me behind you say you miss me but where were your texts huh? You're the only one I wanted texts from. I only wanted you." She was speechless. "But no, I'm not going to stand here and argue with you, because if anything im mad at myself. Glad you're happy." Your Uber had pulled up in time. You get in not even looking at her as the vehicle drives off.

Numb. Empty. Dead. You felt emotionless the next day. You truly had no tears left to cry. Like it has been your eyes hurt. But this time, you didn't even care. It was sort of soothing. Comforting to know you could atleast feel something. You hadn't moved that whole night. Hadn't slept. Just laying there. Your theory was right. Your heart was now fully broken, it felt exactly how you had imagined it to. You had nothing left to give. But you were glad about that. Ellie broke your heart to the point where you just lost all that love for her. It was just gone. You scrunch your face up at the sound of a car parking outside. It sounded exactly like your car. And you were greeted with the sound of a knock on your door.

Confusion strikes you. You slowly, emotionlessly. Get up and head over to it. You're greeted with that one person you never wanted to see again. And yet, you don't even care for her arrival. Nor ask why the hell she's even here. You just move, heading back inside and leaving the door open for her to do what she wanted. You did not care. "Hi..." She speaks softly. Your cold, dark. You don't say a word. "I uhm. I had a spare key of yours that you had given me in case of anything so." Silence. Nothing. You go into your kitchen grabbing a glass of water. Was the only thing you felt like. "Me and her aren't..-" She sighs. "She was just using me to make her ex boyfriend jealous and, well. It worked." You turn your head to slightly look at her.

"B- Y/n I'm so fucking sorry-" You don't even know what came over you but you speak. "I'm not inlove with you anymore." She stares at you for a second, letting out another sigh. "I didn't know you were." She responds. You look into her eyes, yours drained and tired. Full of nothing for her, or anyone else in this world for that matter. She saw it now. She didn't the other day because she was so hung up on something that deep down she knew wouldn't end well. She's full of regret, hatred for herself. How could she not of seen any of it. "I can make this up to you, I genuinely want to be with you also-" You then look at her, making her shut up for some reason, worried about your reaction or response. "Guess it's too late for that." Her face drops, watching you going into your room, shutting the door behind you. Leaving Ellie stunned in your living room. Knowing she's lost you for good.

#elliewilliams #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams angst

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thebiggerbear · 9 months

Text

Something Real

Summary: You had offered him the chance for something the two of you could build, something real, if he gave up the suit for good.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female Reader

Warnings: angst, character death, implied violence, implied injuries, mentions of blood, mentions of terminal illness/treatments/effects, implied sex, Soldier Boy being himself at times, language (I guess?), tears, heartbreak - I think that pretty much covers everything

Word Count: 9434

A/N: Something I started writing back on Thanksgiving. I was hurting that day, needing heat to ease the pain, and I was working on something else for SB. This just popped into my head (the idea of "warm hands") so I ran with it. Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. I picked the name Violet because it's a bit of a reference to the other SB story I'm working on. Please let me know what you think (and please don't kill me).

I heard this song on a Soldier Boy fan edited video on YouTube and ever since then I can't get it out of my head for this one shot. It just makes me see Ben and the reader that much clearer in my mind.

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

SB Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx

“I forgot how warm your hands are.”

Ben could feel his devastation threatening to overwhelm him but he quickly forced it away. He had to be strong for you; no time to be a pussy.

As if you had heard his thoughts, you gave him a sad smile, your own eyes starting to blur with unshed tears that you were trying to hold back yourself, not wanting to make this worse for him than you already knew it would be. But then it suddenly hit you that life was indeed short; what did it matter if you let your feelings surrounding your current circumstances show? You had never held back before. Why would you start now? So you let your tears flow but you did your best to turn them into happy tears so whenever he thought back to this moment, he wouldn’t see how scared or sad you really were. You were determined for him to never know the true depths of your fear or despair in this moment.

Instead, you weakly lifted your hand and placed it against his cheek, watching as he briefly closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. His green gaze settled on you once more and you could have sworn you could see a slight shimmer there but in the next moment, it was gone, so you couldn’t be entirely sure.

Both of you were having flashes of the same memories that your words brought to mind.

You were both in bed, naked, you laying sprawled out over him, having just made love for the second time that evening. Ben always called it fucking but you refused to use that word to describe what the two of you did. Sure, he fucked you sometimes but things were more serious between you than you just being a bedwarmer of his or some random pussy for him to stick his dick into and get off as he’d crudely put it.

They had been ever since you’d caught him by surprise one night after too much whiskey mixed with conversation and you kissed him ever so sweetly. He’d tried to turn it into something else — because he was who he was after all — but you wouldn’t let him. Something changed between you that night and an understanding began to form. If he wanted you, then he’d have to give up everything that wouldn’t allow him to keep you. That meant the women, the drugs, the bad behavior — all of it. You weren’t trying to change him, not at all, but you knew those things weren’t really the true make-up of who he was; it was a mere reflection of the suit and persona Vought encouraged, expected, and enforced. Ben made his own choices of course, but you knew he could do better, be better. And that’s who you wanted; that’s who you loved — the man that belonged with you, not the Supe that belonged to a greedy corporation and the world. But it would have to be up to him to make that final choice. You made that perfectly clear and told him to come to you when he was ready, ready for something real.

And sure enough, despite his keeping away for a while to prove a point, he eventually ended up on your doorstep that night three years ago, dressed in modern day clothing and cleaned up in all manners of the phrase. Ben was ready. He wanted you, he wanted real and most of all, he wanted it with you.

You’d been together ever since and while things hadn’t been perfect, they’d been perfect enough for the both of you. So here you were, laid out in bliss, listening to his strong heartbeat underneath your ear as his hands glided up and down your bare back. You closed your eyes, smiling, and murmured, “I forgot how warm your hands are.”

Instead of answering you, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, letting his lips linger there, as he tightened his hold on you, pulling you closer into him. He held you like that for a little while until you could feel him stirring beneath you once more and his caresses turned more insistent before he rolled you onto your back, his kisses feverish as you both started your third round of lovemaking for the night. Supe stamina and all that.

You winced as you felt another sharp kick to your stomach. “Damn,” you muttered.

Ben’s eyes were immediately on you, worried. “What?”

“Nothing,” you tried to lie but another kick had you flinching.

He laid down the wrench he had been battling the pipes with and wiped his hands with a rag before making his way over to you. “The kid kicking you again?”

A third kick had your face screwed up in a grimace as you nodded. His jaw tightened and he urged you down onto the sofa before joining you and holding you from behind. He lifted your shirt above your belly and you both watched in fascination as there was a slight movement to it right before you hissed in pain and bit your lip to keep from crying out. Ben lowered his hands and began to rub your skin soothingly. The pain eased and like always, your baby started to settle down, something it did whenever it sensed its father’s strong presence. You assumed it was a Supe thing, since your kid would have half of those V-mutated genes, and you refused to let that worry you in the slightest. There was no guarantee your child would have superpowers like its dad though you wouldn’t be surprised if it inherited his strength if these painful kicks were anything to go by. Either way, you’d cross that superpower bridge if and when you came to it.

You let out a breath of relief and closed your eyes, leaning your head back against Ben’s shoulder. “I seriously forgot how warm your hands are,” you whispered, enjoying how the warmth both settled your child and you at the same time.

“Don’t know how,” he murmured into your ear. “I hardly ever take them off you.”

You smiled wider at his teasing and wrapped your hands around one of his arms, humming your contentment. After a moment, you opened your eyes to find him watching you with an affectionate smirk. You lifted up and gently kissed him. “I love you.”

His smirk melted into a smile and he leaned down to kiss you one more time. “Back at you, doll.”

And almost as if your child wanted a say, to agree with the sentiments exchanged between both parents, it kicked against Ben’s hand albeit more gently this time, not causing any pain.

You grinned as you watched Ben teach your daughter, Violet, how to make a snowman. Which really meant he was making it for her. She had her father completely wrapped around her little finger. If there was anything that could bring Soldier Boy to his knees, it was his little girl. The strongest Supe in the world was at the mercy of the whims of your six year old.

You both had been surprised when the child you’d both eagerly been anticipating turned out to be a girl. You were excited — you’d always wanted a little girl. Ben — you weren’t sure how he would react. His heart had been set on a boy and while you could see a faint layer of disappointment shadowing his expression when you heard the doctor’s announcement, the moment he and your newborn daughter locked eyes, he was hers. It turned out you had nothing to worry about, on any counts.

He had promised you he would be better than his father and thus far he’d lived up to that promise. While you both had discussed extensively what type of parenting style you’d be implementing, you weren’t sure what would happen when the tough days of parenthood would hit. And while he had come a long way from his antiquated mindset (which had been beyond painful for the both of you back in the early days of you moving in together), you wanted to make sure that none of that would ever touch your child, literally and figuratively. But it turned out, you really had nothing to worry about. There were only a few instances that you had to gently remind him that it wasn’t the 1940’s anymore and each time he’d apologized, and set about making it right however he could.

Ben pleasantly surprised you in being there for all of the night time feedings, being willing to change a diaper after you’d eventually forced the issue and he found out that it wasn’t as big a deal as he was making it out to be, and taking her from you so you could sleep, shower, or get some time for yourself when he realized he wouldn’t break her. Her tiny form made him nervous and all the more careful. He held her hand when she started walking, read to her at bedtime (even though he secretly told you later there was a lot of pussy bullshit stories the world had available for kids these days), and beamed when one night she’d sleepily hugged him and whispered that Daddy was her hero after a particular conversation they’d had about a story he was reading, when she asked why the main character was going to fight the dragon. “Because he’s the hero, sweetness, and heroes fight the monsters.” You’d found him later standing at the foot of her bed, watching her sleep, an expression of sadness mixed with realization in his face.

You’d wrapped yourself around his arm, hugging him, as you joined him in his study of your daughter. “You okay?” You whispered after a moment.

He looked unsure how to answer you so you gave him a little time to think of what he wanted to say, smiling as you noticed your daughter’s quiet breathing, her little lips curled up in the cutest pout as she dreamed — of what you had no idea but you hoped it was warm and wonderful and everything she could possibly want in her four and a half years of life.

“She said I was her hero,” Ben admitted quietly.

You turned to glance up at him and caught the furrow of his brows.

“I’m not really a hero, though.” He pressed his lips together. “Not with the things I’ve done.”

You slipped your hand into his, intertwining your fingers, and squeezed. “Then be one.”

His eyes snapped over to you in question.

You gently framed his face with your hands, forcing him to look at you. “Ever since you decided you wanted something different from what you had before, you have made better decisions every single day. Who you were back then, Ben…that’s not who you are now. So if you want to be a hero,” You briefly glanced at your sleeping daughter. “Her hero, then be one.”

Ben contemplated your words as you released him and his eyes drifted over the child that had somehow carved herself into his heart in a way that the fucked-up Homelander or the idea of any kid of his that possibly existed out there never had. He was already trying every single day to be better, for her, for you, for himself — and it was something he would keep doing.

“But just so you know,” you whispered to him. “No matter if you wear the suit or you’re just plain ol’ Daddy who reads her stories and threatens the monsters in her closet before she goes to bed each night, you’re already going to be her hero.” You gave him a soft smile and watched as your words played out upon his face. His lips lifted up slightly in the corners and he ran his tender glance over his little girl. It surprised you though when he then turned that smile and gaze onto you.

He marveled at just how simple you made it all sound sometimes. Not that you hadn’t acknowledged his effort or the strides he’d made in attempting to be a better father than his old man — a better man period — but he secretly admired when you gave it to him straight, no bullshit, no matter the subject. And while he wanted his daughter to always see him as the hero she called him earlier, he was grateful that you made sure to make such a distinction in your words: he didn’t have to put the suit back on to be his little girl’s hero. That’s not who she saw him as anyway. She saw him as her hero because he was her dad — and that was enough for her.

There were times like this where he’d remember exactly why he chose to give everything up for you, why he chose you. You’d seen past the suit, past his public persona, saw all of the good and even more of the bad, and yet you still chose him first, still loved him, and still gave him the family he’d been craving even if it wasn’t how he’d imagined it for years on end. You gave him exactly what you’d promised if he chose you back: something real. And Christ did he love you for it.

Ben had never been very good at saying the three words that seemed to take no effort whatsoever to roll off your tongue every single day, even when it came to your daughter. While he might have had no issue speaking his mind back in the day, when it came to the two important things in his life, he struggled to put into words exactly how he felt about you two or to return the sentiment because it was unfathomable to him. He had never known that he could feel the love he did as a husband, a true partner, never mind as a parent. You both were his world and he wasn’t sure how he’d function without either of you in it. Hell, he wasn’t even sure how he functioned before either of you came along though a small dark part of him knew the answer to that: booze, drugs, sex, violence, and enjoying the Supe high life all combined. But right now, he was feeling that overwhelming feeling again that he hesitated to put a name to but deep down knew what it was. However, instead of just being able to say it, just once, he did the second best thing like he did every time you made him feel like this: he showed you.

He took your hand in his, squeezing, and glanced once more at Violet. Noting again that she was sleeping soundly, he then turned his attention onto you and led you from the room. Once her door was shut, he was on you, his kisses passionate and insistent yet desperate, his hands hungrily trailing your body, before he picked you up and walked you down the hall to your bedroom.

So watching him now making the snowman your daughter wanted — old hat, scarf, pipe, and all — you were amused but also couldn’t be prouder. Ben had heard you that night and he had chosen to be the hero his little girl wanted him to be: her dad while also being a good man and someone she could be proud of. It didn’t erase his past but it was just another step in the right direction towards his future. The suit was still hidden away in a closet but he hadn’t pulled it out for which you were also immensely grateful. Vought International and The Seven had been annihilated years ago at the same time Homelander had been killed. Supes had scattered across the globe, now not being run by one single entity anymore. Some had world governments after them for crimes they had committed previously and were still committing to this day. Compound V as well as Temp V had now unfortunately hit the streets so random fresh Supes were turning up everywhere. The world certainly had its hands full when it came to the whole Supe thing. Maybe it was incredibly selfish of you but you were relieved when Ben chose to stay out of the fray and instead concentrate on living the life he’d chosen to live with you and focus on your family.

Your grin grew when your daughter excitedly hurried over to you. “Mama, mama! Did you see the snowman Daddy made?”

“I did, kiddo. He looks great.” You arched a brow over at the snowman though when you noticed something. “Well, just a tiny bit lopsided, but that’s okay. It gives him character.”

Ben huffed, appearing next to you. “I don’t make lopsided snowmen.” He then turned to Violet. “Your mother needs to have her eyes checked.”

“Hey,” you cried out indignantly. “Who are you telling to get their eyes checked, old man? Considering it’s a lop-sided snowman, I say you should get yours checked.”

Ben flashed his teeth in a grin. “My eyes are perfect, like everything else about me.” You couldn’t help your eye roll though in your estimation, he wasn’t too far off the mark. Never aging thanks to Compound V would do that to someone you guessed. You tried not to be too envious when you remembered back to the few gray hairs you’d managed to find coming from your scalp a few weeks back.

Violet was giggling watching the two of you and you couldn’t help but join in her merriment. “Sure,” you teased. “So instead of Frosty the Snowman, we’ll call him Skewy the Off-Balance Snowman?”

Ben sent you a mock glare and you shrugged, smiling, making your daughter laugh again. He handed an old ratty coat to her. “Vi, why don’t you put on the finishing touches so your mom can stop being a critic and finally appreciate our hard work?”

“What? I am appreciating it. I even appreciate that you have to tilt your head a bit to see it straight. Off-kilter is all the rage now, I get it. See? I’m appreciating it.”

Your daughter grinned and took the proffered coat before rushing back over to the snowman.

Hands suddenly on your hips whipped you around and Ben was on you before you could utter another word. He kissed you hard and you swore you could see stars when he finally pulled back, letting you catch your breath. He smirked down at you, muttering “Pain in the ass” good-humoredly, before you both caught movement out of the corner of your eye. You both glanced over in time to see your daughter leap gracefully into the air to toss the coat onto the tall snowman. Ben’s smile was proud and you watched in awe as she landed lithely back down on the ground. As you had wondered often enough when pregnant with her, your daughter had inherited some Supe DNA from her father after all. Something you and Ben both worked hard with her to keep tamped down when in the presence of other children and especially their parents. Your life was blissfully lowkey, normal (as normal as it could be with two Supes in the house), and safe — you and Ben both wanted to keep it that way and you both especially wanted to make sure your daughter’s life continued in that fashion as well. You didn’t want your daughter to be ashamed of her special abilities and Ben was able to teach her restraint, something he had to teach himself long before she was born.

Ben watched as she used her strength to shift the snowman a little to the left so it would indeed be a little straighter. He rolled his eyes at your triumphant smirk but his smile never left as he cupped your face between his hands. “There. Happy?”

“More than you know,” you answered honestly. His smile faded slightly when he realized you meant more than the adjustment to his recent snow creation. You saw an all-too familiar internal struggle play out in his eyes that you had seen often enough over the years, especially lately. When he was making love to you; when he quietly watched you and your daughter working on her homework together; when he found you in the kitchen late at night when you couldn’t sleep and without speaking you’d turn on a slow song from his era and hold out an expectant hand to him; when you wrapped your arms around him from behind in a hug and snuck in underneath his arm as both of you observed Violet playing out in the yard with the dog she’d managed to convince you both to get — you knew what that struggle was and while it might have bothered another spouse that he never properly vocalized his feelings, you more than understood. How could you not after you knew how Ben had grown up, what he’d been taught? He’d made tons of strides over the years to undo all of that programming, but this…this was the hardest for him, and you knew why. So you didn’t push and instead willingly took what he gave you, knowing he was doing the best he could to show you how he felt instead.

You pushed yourself up on your toes and kissed him. “I love you, too,” you whispered, letting him know it was okay; you knew. You felt his thumb glide along your bottom lip as he studied you intently, and you could feel the heat radiating on the sides of your face. “I always forget how warm your hands are.”

He gave you a suggestive smirk. “You better not have forgotten how warm the rest of me is.”

“Might need a reminder,” you murmured, leaning into him.

His smirk widened. “Then you’ll get one.” He kissed you and before you could get too carried away, the sounds of your daughter giggling and calling “Daddy” had you both pulling apart. “Later,” he promised, pecking your lips one last time before looking over at Violet and the snowman whose apparel had changed to wearing her coat and hat instead.

Ben gave her an indulgent smile. “What’d you do, Princess?” Violet giggled again and her father shook his head as he headed over to her. You watched as he picked her up, tickling her and making her squeal in laughter, and you smiled. Life really didn’t get much better than this.

You laughed yourself when Violet tried to tickle Ben back.

Not by a long shot.

You gave your husband a tired smile when he walked into the room.

“Did she get to school okay?” You asked.

He nodded and removed his coat, hanging it up on the empty hook on the wall.

“And you gave her the envelope I left on the table, right? The one that had her pictures and money for the yearbook?”

“Yeah,” he gruffed out, taking the empty seat next to you and ignoring the curious stares directed his way. Ben was huge and even though he hadn’t been recognized in years, his hulking stature still attracted inquisitive gazes every now and then.

“Good. Thank you for doing that.”

He took your free hand and frowned when you involuntarily shivered.

Your smile was immediately apologetic. “I always forget how warm your hands are.” You gently gestured to your head where a cold cap sat. “This is freezing so with your hands, it felt like I stuck mine over a fire for a second.”

His frown intensified but he let your hand go.

“No, no, it’s fine.” You grabbed at his fingers and intertwined them with yours once again. “I like warm.” You then tried to give him a flirtatious smile. “You know that.”

His responding smile was more of a grimace but he kept his hand in yours. “There anything you need?”

You noticed that once again, he was hardly making eye contact with you while you were receiving treatment. You hated it when he did that though you understood. He hated to see you like this, knowing there was nothing he could do to help you. Correction, nothing you would let him do that is.

You’d found a lump in your breast during a self-exam and you’d gotten it checked out right away. More examinations and tests later, it was confirmed: you had cancer. Thankfully, it was not the aggressive kind but your doctor wanted to go after the tumor just as if it was anyway. Your daughter was only in high school; of course, you agreed to whatever plan the doctor suggested. So now here you were, getting chemo after a successful removal of the tumor.

Ben and Violet had been worried but you assured them that you would be fine, even if you didn’t know that to be true. Ben kept it together in front of your daughter, but once she had gone to bed, you could tell that even though he wouldn’t admit it, he was scared shitless. He knew what cancer meant like everyone else but he didn’t understand the mechanics of the treatments you would be receiving or the rates of survival depending on the ability to remove the tumor and keeping it from spreading versus the percentage rate of success of said surgery and treatments. He asked you question after question after question which you tried your best to answer while trying to keep from falling apart yourself. Eventually, he got frustrated and assured you he would get a hold of some Compound V. Though the government was still currently fighting the sale of the drug on the black market, they had to have some locked away for evidence or testing or they were just simply hoarding it. And if that didn’t work, he planned to track some down and get you a vial. Even if it was only Temp V.

You were horrified at this suggestion. “Ben, no. I’m not taking that stuff!”

“Why? It’ll make you healthy! It’ll get rid of this fucking cancer! Why wouldn’t you take it?”

“I can think of several reasons. If you break in somewhere to steal it, you can get caught and thrown into some max security prison or CIA black op site that I’ll never be able to get to, never mind being able to find, where they’ll keep you locked down with that gas! Or if you get it off of the street or from the black market, you have no idea if it’s been tampered with or if they’ve laced it with anything else. Temp V is completely out of the question, from a legit source or not. Not to mention, we don’t even know if this would work. It might not heal me or it could even kill me instead. That’s why!”

“You don’t know that,” he insisted.

“I don’t care. I’m not doing it, Ben.”

His eyes were darker than usual and he looked as if he was about to say something that you probably would both end up regretting. And sure enough, he did. “You’re fucking taking it and that’s it.”

“Excuse me?” You hissed. “This is my life we’re talking about. My life, my decision!”

“We are your life, goddammit!” He roared. Your eyes began to burn as you held back tears and he noticed the familiar sheen in them. When he spoke next, his tone was a bit quieter but no less firm. “So, it’s our decision. You’re taking it and that’s final.”

He had stormed out of the house after that and you had burst into tears. You knew he could hear you but he didn’t come back. You’d cried out all of the fear and anguish and despair you’d felt since receiving your diagnosis.

It was only later that night when Ben crawled into bed, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you into his body, that he whispered an apology into your ear. You squeezed his forearm, letting him know you’d forgiven him.

“If I can get a hold of some, will you please take it?” He begged.

You thought it over for a moment, weighed the risks heavily against the rewards that it could yield, and then shook your head. “No. It’s too risky. It could kill me, Ben. At least with the surgery and chemo, I have better odds.”

“What if I gave you some of my blood?” You heard his voice break near the end of his question and that shocked you. The entire time you’d known the man, he had never once cried. Not in front of you, at least.

You slowly turned in his arms and while you didn’t see any tears, you saw the shimmer in his green eyes along with pure, unadulterated fear that you’d only seen rare glimpses of over the years: during your pregnancy; the birth; when Violet was a baby and he held her small body in his too big arms, afraid he might break her; when you’d gotten into that car accident on the way to Vi’s dance recital that left you with a few scrapes and bruises; the one time a new Supe in the making claimed to the media that he didn’t believe the death rumors and he was hunting Soldier Boy down in order to prove himself as the strongest Supe which ended up with Ben relocating your family to somewhere even more lowkey (you’d had to talk him out of going to find that damn kid and teaching him a lesson). But now, here it was, naked and laid out plain for you to see. You’d been right; he was scared shitless.

You ran your fingers soothingly through his hair and he briefly turned to kiss your wrist. “We have two different blood types. It wouldn’t work.”

“I could find a scientist that’ll make it work. With all of these watered-down Supes running around, you can’t tell me there isn’t another Vogelbaum out there somewhere studying them. I could nab him and make him help us.”

You gave him a sad smile. “It doesn’t work like that. This isn’t something that can be fixed by some mad scientist or some miracle superhero-making drug.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Ben,” you pleaded. “Please…”

He laid a hand against your face and stared into your eyes. “I don’t want to lose you.” You heard the breaks in his voice again.

A tear slipped down your cheek and he gently wiped it away with his thumb. “One day, you’re going to. Whether it’s now or later, it’s inevitable.”

You could see how hard that hit him, even though you both had known this truth for some time. This wasn’t the first time he’d brought up the possibility of you taking Compound V in your relationship and it wasn’t the first time you’d refused.

He wanted to keep you with him, always. You didn’t want to live forever and once Violet came along, you definitely didn’t want to outlive your daughter. And that was only if the drug was successful and didn’t outright kill you. Not to mention, even if it was successful, who was to say that it would work for you the same way it worked for Ben? Perhaps you could still easily be killed or you would still age. Perhaps your abilities would be completely different to his. He’d offered to get you some Temp V to preview what it would do, but after what you’d seen happen to Billy Butcher from taking that stuff, you refused.

Now, having cancer, as much as that terrified you, you still didn’t want to risk it. The doctors knew you wanted to see your daughter graduate high school. That was enough for you, for now.

You’d watched as Ben compulsively swallowed and pulled you up to meet him. He kissed you and you could feel the desperation, this time layered by a whole new level of it. He’d made love to you that night, the most tender in his touches and movements since the accident. He took his time with you and even though fear clung thickly to both of you, by the end, you felt loved and cherished and warm.

Such a contrast to how you were feeling now. You let out another involuntary shiver and Ben frowned over at you. By now, he would have picked you up and deposited you on his lap, wrapping you in his embrace to warm you up. But he couldn’t due to the goddamn machine and tubing you were connected to. So instead, he got up and laid another blanket over you, leaning in to murmur into your ear, “When we get home, I’ll warm you up.”

He pulled back with a wicked smirk and you gave him a grateful smile before he returned to his seat. You knew he only meant that he would hold you until you warmed up or until he had to pick up your daughter. You were much too tired for anything else, especially after each treatment, something you hated but it couldn’t be helped. You missed being intimate with him, you missed having the energy to do your usual flurry of picking up after your family around the house, you missed being the one to take Violet to school every morning — you missed it all. You lived your life as normally as possible but the tiredness, the lack of energy, the sickness, the effects this drug had on your system…sometimes it was beyond frustrating and that was putting it nicely. But Ben and Vi had been there through it all, ready to help and step in wherever needed. Violet did her chores like always but she also helped her dad whenever he would allow her to. And Ben…well, he had really stepped up. There were zero complaints that men shouldn’t be doing the laundry or the cooking (something that had been a leftover contention point from the early days of your relationship). He did his best to help Vi with her schoolwork if she had any questions and you were napping. He did the picking up around the house now and he took care of you when you got sick, his nose no longer scrunching up at the smell of vomit (something you had noticed when you had morning sickness and he sat with you, rubbing your back; he later explained to you just how sharp his sense of smell was). He did everything you asked him to and even things you didn’t. He had been a pillar of strength and support that you hadn’t even known you’d needed in the beginning.

When he took your hand again, you carefully lifted his and kissed the back of it. “I love you,” you whispered, smiling as you nuzzled his warm skin.

He watched you, a familiar struggle taking place inside of him as a tell-tale shimmer started in his eyes that he didn’t want you to see. By the time you opened yours and looked over at him, the shimmer was gone and a tender smile was in place. “Back at you, dollface.” He leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, staying like that a bit longer than he usually would have. You thought he was telling you what he still couldn’t put into words and he was. But he was also doing his best to warm you up. He’d felt the cold when you’d kissed his hand and rubbed your lips against it. Cold wasn’t something he felt easily so if he felt it, then he knew just how cold you really were. He hated these treatments, how sick they made you, how cold those damn caps made you (at this point, he didn’t care if you lost your hair, it wouldn’t change how he felt about you and he just wanted you warm and alive), he hated that there wasn’t anything he could to make you better — he hated it all. He meant what he’d said to you, when he got you home, he was going to strip you both down and hold you under the thickest, biggest blanket he could find in your house until it was time to pick up Vi from soccer practice. Warming you up, now that was something he could do. Which is exactly why he made sure to keep his lips connected to yours until the ice cold feeling disappeared and some color came back into them. He stared into your eyes, making you a silent promise that he would always chase the cold away and he would keep you here with him, warm, for as long as he could.

You smiled and leaned in to kiss him again, not caring in the least that you might have an audience with other patients and their family members or nurses. You loved Ben with everything you had; you didn’t care who knew it or even saw it.

“Oh, come on!”

You could hear Ben’s chuckle from the other room and you smiled.

“You cheated!”

“No, I didn’t,” Ben insisted, sounding offended.

“Yes, you did! Dad, admit it!”

“Oh and you didn’t? Those bombs came out of nowhere, right?”

You heard your daughter groan. “It’s battle mode, Dad. You’re supposed to battle it out!”

“We did and I won.” You could practically see the triumphant smile on your husband’s face.

“Yeah, by cheating. What do you think, Rose?”

You could hear the poor girl practically stuttering out her response, trying not to offend either party. “Uh, I think it was…pretty fair…”

“What?” Violet yelled. “You call what he did fair?”

“Y-Yes?”

Ben let out another chuckle. “I knew I liked you, kid.”

You shook your head, smiling to yourself. The two most competitive members of your family had decided to play a video game while you were cooking to help pass the time. Vi had offered to help but you shooed her away since she had brought a friend home with her for the holiday. Ben had looked over at you expectantly, wondering what you would ask him to do, but you’d simply put a beer in his hand and sent him off to entertain the girls. He’d tried to hide his relief as he made his escape but you saw right through him. Thankfully, he didn’t see your own relief. You loved that Ben would do whatever you asked of him when it came to the kitchen, but sometimes he had his own way of doing things (from the time you’d been sick) and it clashed with yours. So, for a meal this large, as much as you loved him, you’d prefer for him to be out of the way. While it was a lot of work, your time to yourself in here was peaceful and you were amused at the bickering you overheard between Ben and Vi. Video games, board games, puzzles — it didn’t matter. If they were involved, there was bound to be claims of cheating by one of them or both, and massive competitive drives. You’d learned long ago to let them battle it out while you would be happy to be in 3rd place in Mario Kart or own St. Charles Place and maybe a railroad during a round of Monopoly. Most of all, though, you loved spending time with your two favorite people in the world, whether they were bickering over a game or competing against each other for a pixelated trophy on the television screen.

You heard voices start to rise slightly, Violet’s in particular. Someone else might have been nervous, especially for the young girl who was your guest, considering two Supes were locking horns, but you weren’t worried. Vi was now in college and thankfully, you’d been in remission for a couple of years. If your family had managed to survive that, you knew they’d overcome any argument over something as silly as who won a race between a plumber and a mushroom man.

But just in case, you called out, “Guys, remember it’s just a game, please. We have a guest.”

Sure enough, Violet lowered her voice but you could still hear her accusing her father who scoffed his denials. You rolled your eyes in amusement.

It wasn’t long before you felt strong arms wrap around you from behind, and lips pressed against your neck. “And the victor returns,” you murmured, smiling and leaning back into him.

“Mm-hmm,” Ben hummed against your skin. “He wants his spoils.” You felt him attempting to lift the hem of your dress and you slapped his hands away.

“Ben,” you hissed. “Not right now with our daughter and her friend in the next room.”

He didn’t let you deter him; he was determined. “Then let’s go upstairs while this bird cooks. The kids can entertain themselves for a few minutes.”

“A few minutes?” You teased. “You mean like this morning?”

Ben had sweet talked you into sneaking out to the garage after you set everything up and put the turkey in the oven. He’d had you up against the hood of your car, his hand covering your mouth as he went to town on you, both of you in a hurry because he’d heard your daughter starting to wake up on the floor above you.

Instead of being insulted or rolling his eyes and glaring over at you, a dirty smirk settled onto his face. “Mmm, that was hot. You were hot. So hot I want to lift this dress up and do that thing with my—”

A loud throat clearing coming from the other room had you both straightening up. Right. Your daughter shared super senses with her father. Whoops. “Uh, Mom? Is dinner ready yet?”

“Uh.” You quietly cleared your throat yourself as you moved away from Ben, making him frown. “Not for another two hours or so.” You had just checked the turkey before you’d been interrupted.

“Okay, well, Rose and I are going to go walk outside for a bit. We’ll be back.”

“Okay, sweetheart. Be careful and make sure to take your coats. It’s cold out,” you warned.

Violet laughed. “Yes, Mom.”

She must have said something too quiet for you to hear because Ben suddenly went rigid. “Listen to your mother,” he added for good measure.

Another laugh. “Sure, Dad.”

You continued prepping dinner and once you heard the front door shut, Ben was on you. “Ben,” you laughed. “I don’t have time!”

He picked you up and moved you to the one area of counter space that wasn’t covered. “Yeah, you do. There’s always time for a quickie.”

“A quickie? Another one of Ben’s infamous life rules?”

He lifted the skirt of your dress over your thighs and quickly worked your underwear down your legs. “Another one of my infamous life rules with you.” You and Ben were used to having the house to yourselves so anywhere, anytime had become a sort of routine you two had. You missed Violet tremendously but you also had time to physically reconnect with your husband.

Almost as if he heard the direction your thoughts were going in, he framed your face with his hands. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured.

You gave him a grateful smile. The truth was, while you were grateful to be in remission and for more time with your family, you had worried about the toll chemo had taken on your body as well as your sex drive. The doctor assured you that while it would take time, there was a good chance you would start to feel normal again. Ben had been understanding but you had been frustrated. However, the doctor was right; it took a while but you started to feel back to normal, libido included.

Luckily, you hadn’t lost a lot of your hair, the cold caps having helped, and once the treatments were over, whatever was gone did indeed grow back. Unfortunately, a lot of gray hair also came with it. You’d wanted to dye it back to your original color but Ben urged you not to. “You look fucking sexy as hell with it,” he’d murmured before you watched him nibble on your ear in the bathroom mirror. You knew his preference for older women, something you knew before you’d even gotten together, walking into the bar you’d found him in and seeing him making out with a grandma one time. So you knew your aging wasn’t an issue; he’d told you often enough that he didn’t care how old you got, he only wanted you. That was why he had wanted you to take Compound V, far before your diagnosis, because he wanted to be with you forever, or as long as forever would be given your actual life span and his. But you were still struggling with all of the changes your body had gone through in the last couple of years and you’d broken down into sobs, letting your face fall into your hands. He’d held you and whispered reassurances into your ear that everything was going to be okay.

And thankfully, he had been right. It had all turned out to be okay. You’d gotten to see Violet graduate, you’d gotten to go on campus tours with her as she decided on a college, you got to drive up with her and Ben to move her into her dorm room, you’d gotten to spend more time with your husband who loved you deeply — you’d gotten more time period.

And here you were, able to cook a full Thanksgiving dinner for your family on your own, and all three of you were thriving. Most people would be stating what they were thankful for on this day but you — the gratitude you felt overwhelmed you and it was something that couldn’t be put into words. You had a beautiful life, a wonderful life, a daughter just as beautiful and wonderful, and you were thankful for the man who had given it to you. Who had laid down his shield (and everything that came with it) and chosen to make this life with you.

You stared into his green eyes, seeing a certain amount of reverence mixed with affection watching you back. You felt his skin warm against yours, reminding you of all of the days and nights he spent trying to keep you warm during and after your treatments, and you smiled. “Your hands are so warm,” you whispered the familiar words. “I always forget how warm they are.”

And as expected, he grinned and responded with, “Not sure how, dollface. I never take them off of you.” He ran a thumb tenderly along your bottom lip. “And I never will.”

He kissed you then and you couldn’t help the tear that escaped and rolled down your cheek. The quickie ended up being not so quick. The turkey was a little drier than you liked but your family ate it all the same while Rose politely complimented you. Violet gave you a nod, smiling, missing her father unapologetically smirking over at you while shoveling forkfuls into his mouth. You gave him a look when your daughter glanced back down to her plate and he chortled before digging in again. You gazed around the table, smiling, content as could be. Gratitude. Thankful. Those were the two words that repeated themselves over and over in your head as you watched your family eat the food you’d cooked for them, even when Violet insisted that Ben had still cheated in Mario Kart, her father told her to let it go, and both agreed to a rematch right after dinner.

This is what you’d wanted back when you gave Ben your ultimatum, but never in a million years did you think you’d actually get to have it. Thankful indeed.

Being awash in these memories, you failed to notice that a tear was making its way down Ben’s cheek until it fell near your hairline when he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. You didn’t really feel anything that wasn’t pain or cold, except for him. Even his tears were warm. So warm.

“Not sure how, baby,” he answered you, smiling, his eyes wet. “I always have them on you.”

You couldn’t help but smile in return at your familiar exchange. That smile fell, though, when you heard what he said next.

“I’m gonna get him. I promise you that.”

You could see the faint edges of Soldier Boy peeking through as you saw your husband’s green eyes harden in an all-too familiar fashion. You slowly shook your head, even that tiny movement causing you pain. “I don’t want that. I want you and Vi to be safe.”

He looked as if he wanted to argue but thought better of it. Instead, his eyes softened once more and he gave you a nod. “Okay, baby.”

You and Ben had been walking through town, buying last minute Christmas presents. Ben wanted to order them online and avoid the crowds, but you wanted to take a walk, breathing in the fresh air and be imbued with the Christmas spirit that permeated the town. Ben had begrudgingly indulged you and you enjoyed yourself as you bought gifts for Violet, her fiancee, and you even managed to sneak one for Ben when you’d sent him to ask the guy manning the stand in the outdoor market for a price on an item. The woman from the stand next door had just bagged your gift when you noticed a young man walking through the market, commanding everyone’s attention. He had a suit on with a cape so it was obvious he was a Supe and he was looking for something or someone. His eyes flickered in Ben’s direction, who had his back to him, and a dangerous smile formed on his face. Within seconds, you recognized him. He was the Supe you had seen on TV a few years back, though he’d been wearing a different suit then and he wasn’t nearly as bulked up as he was now. He was the one who had been saying he would hunt Soldier Boy down to kill him. You quickly glanced back at Ben who was completely unaware, involved in the discussion he was having with the older man. You saw the Supe’s eyes begin to glow and you knew what would happen before it did.

You dropped everything in your hands and ran as fast as you could towards Ben, yelling his name. He glanced up at you, his brows furrowed, and he tensed seeing your expression. It was mere moments that passed before you were in front of him and you felt a lava-hot feeling erupting from your insides, making you scream.

You fell to the ground and you watched as Ben went to catch you but was forced to let you fall when he looked up to see more lasers coming his way. He moved out of the way just in time. As you lay, unable to move, hearing some of the sounds of battle all around you and people screaming and stampeding out of the market while your ears were still ringing, you prayed to whoever was listening that your husband won and that he and your daughter would be safe.

It wasn’t until you heard something that sounded like a jet taking off into the sky and saw Ben’s boots come to a stop in front of you that you realized he had survived. You nearly cried at the sight of those worn work boots that you kept urging him to replace. He managed to roll you over though you cried out in pain as he did and he settled you onto his lap, his eyes wide as he took in your injuries. Not only could you feel how bad it was, but you could also see it on his face. It was a miracle you were somehow still alive, able to talk even, but you didn’t have long. You didn’t need to be a doctor to know that the rapidly-spreading cold wasn’t a good thing. Your hands and arms were practically numb at this point. And you thought cancer would be the one you’d have to worry about showing up.

“Make sure you take care of Vi. She’s going to need you,” you urged him.

He gave you another nod. “You know I will.”

“And don’t let that asshole find her.”

His jaw tightened and his eyes hardened again. “He won’t.” You knew what that meant but not having much energy left, you could only hope that when he thought back to this moment, he remembered what you had told him you wanted.

It worried you a little when he picked up your hand and kissed your palm that not only could you not feel it, but your hand looked the palest you’d ever seen it, even during chemo.

More tears rolled down your cheeks but you made sure to look up at him. You had no idea how much time you had left but you needed to tell him, you needed him to know. “Tell Vi that I love her and I’m so proud of her.” And you were. Inspired by what had happened to you years back, she became a doctor, specifically an oncologist. She was determined to find a cure and in the meantime, help people who had gotten some of the worst news of their lives. “And, Ben.. Thank you for our life together. Thank you for our daughter. Thank you for everything.”

You could see his eyes beginning to glisten once more and he compulsively swallowed. “I should be thanking you for that.”

“You made the decision to walk away. If you hadn’t…”

“It was an easy decision.”

You tried to give him a smile that probably came out more of a grimace. “No, it wasn’t. But I’m thankful you made it.”

He leaned down to press another kiss to your forehead before staring into your eyes. “I’m thankful for you.”

You tried to smile wider but instead a cough erupted out of you and you could feel something wet on your lip. Ben gently swiped his thumb across it, moving it out of your sight, and a slight panic set in when you realized you could barely feel the action. “Ben,” you croaked. “I’m so cold.” You could barely feel the pain anymore and it felt as if someone had turned on an A/C inside you at full blast and the icy air was making its way up to your head.

Ben attempted to give you a familiar smile. “Then I’ll warm you up, doll.” You heard the breaks in his voice but when he leaned down to kiss you, you let him, taking comfort in the familiar show of affection. You breathed through your nose and you relaxed, feeling the last bit of warmth that was infused into your lips.

Ben stayed there long after you took your last breath, long after you went limp. He knew you were gone but a small irrational part of him told himself that if he just kept trying to chase the cold away for you, he might somehow succeed. But ultimately, as he knew it wouldn’t, it didn’t work. He lifted his head and stared down at you, silently willing you to open your eyes. When you didn’t, more tears fell down his bearded cheeks and a sob tore out of his throat that he had no idea was there waiting to escape. “Baby,” he choked out, shaking you as gently as he could, still mindful of your wounds. But still, nothing. Then he said the words he’d always struggled to give voice to, thinking if nothing else would bring you back, this might. “I love you,” he let out in a broken whisper against your lips. When that didn’t work either, he knew that was it and subsequently broke down, rocking you tenderly in his arms as he buried his face in your neck while his shoulders shook. For the first time ever since becoming a Supe, Soldier Boy cried and didn’t care who saw it or knew about it. He ignored the cries of people looking for their loved ones, he ignored the police cars showing up and the sirens of the fire trucks on their way, he ignored people clamoring around the site asking what happened or trying to help others — he ignored them all. All he focused on was you. You had knowingly put yourself in front of those lasers to save him. …And now you were gone.

A/N: Please don't hate me.

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged for this character.

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#soldier boy x you #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #the boys fanfiction #soldier boy #soldier boy fanfiction #jensen ackles #jensen ackles character #soldier boy fanfic #the boys fanfic #thebiggerbear writes #something real #jensen ackles character fanfiction #jensen ackles character fanfic

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ukiyowi · 11 months

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Spirit guides personality and messages

Note: Hope you like it! Reblogs help a ton. I got hospitalised recently and it would be a huge help if anyone would be interested in buying paid readings or tipping! Every little penny helps! Thank you so much 🩷🩷🩷

Pile 1

Personality

Cards: The Devil (rev.), Wheel of Fortune, Queen of Swords.

The strong female energy that's coming through, I heard warrior/generational warrior. Your spirit guide is cold and detached, independent I'm seeing they're very very strong and loyal. They're also extremely powerful, I'm getting that they'll only communicate with you if needed, letting you fight your own battles, however they're very protective. I feel if anyone ever does you wrong, it always comes back to them in the worst way possible. They're someone who's very wise and travelled, they don't like meddling too much. I also get strong maternal energy, so maybe this is a female ancestor. What's funny is when the first two cards fell out, I was thinking of a warrior with flowing hair in an Armor with a sword and then the queen of swords fell out. Again, giving me warrior, very strong and analytical. They're straightforward and blunt, may come off as grumpy or annoyed occasionally. Like their space, someone who's fair and trustworthy. I'm getting they may like things staying the same, they love routine.

Messages

Card: The Tower (rev.)

Stop trying to resist good change. If something is falling apart, it's meant to trying to hold on to it will bring nothing but delay, hurt and harm. Go with the flow, stay true to yourself. Rebuild what was fallen because now by then you'll have learnt from your mistakes.

Song: Lullaby for a cat – Epik High

Pile 2

Personality

Cards: The Moon, Page of Wands, 7 of Pentacles

Okay first message I got is they're very communicative, and may try to talk to you or send messages through your dreams. They may be emotional and irrational at times, I'm also getting may be doting in a way. They seem optimistic and cheerful! I'm getting extremely fun and daring energy, there's not much that scares them probably because of how long they've been around, the kind to have seen everything. They may be a little fast-paced however, I'm getting if you're not progressing fast enough, they may try to step in, guide you in the right direction (or try) so that you can grow faster, they just want what's best for you. They're determined and persistent, very balanced energy, they value stability a lot especially mental and emotional stability and may help you manifest faster. They're selfless and fiercely protective especially against evil eye or the envy of others. You may have a lot of people who dislike you because of your success, your spirit guides protect you from that negative energy so it doesn't manifest into your life.

Messages

Card: Page of Cups (rev.)

Don't let others envy bring you down, nurture your inner child. If you keep working all day every day without giving yourself time to heal and replenish your energy, everything you've worked for will come falling down. It's not easy to forget or forgive the happenings of the past and you don't have to, but stop holding onto them with a vice grip.

Song: Fall - Sasha Sloan

Pile 3

Personality

Cards: The Fools, The Lovers, 3 of Cups (rev.)

First thing that came through: past life lover, a past life lover is your spirit guide, or someone who carries that energy. They can be a little scattered at times but they're youthful and love adventure. They also seem pretty idealistic for better or for worse, I'm also getting they're very patient and understanding, a lot of compassion is coming through. They're agreeable and cordial, I see that they love new beginnings and cycles, they are also extremely abundant in showing their adoration, either through symbols, signs, animals all of that. They're critical by nature, sometimes too much but they try to tone it down I'm hearing and focus on the positives. Yeah, I'm not getting much to be honest, they would love to communicate with you, I hear they use animals a lot as symbolism and can be blunt when giving advice or guidance simply because they feel like sugar-coating is a waste of your time.

Messages

Card: Page of Pentacles

You've worked very hard so far, keep that up, there's new things coming into your life that will send you back in motion. Lay your foundations before building your empire, don't sway from the goals you set and you'll be good to go. Remember to stay humble and grounded, meditate.

Song: Older - Shallou

#tarot cards #tarot reading #pick a pile #tarot commissions #tarotblr #tarot deck #tarotcommunity #tarot readings #tarot #intuitive readings #pick a pile reading #pick a card reading #pick a picture

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taintandviolent · 4 months

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Knead ; Kit Walker x reader

summary: Kit hasn’t been coping well with Briarcliff life, and developed an unhealthy solution to the numbness he feels on a daily basis. You’re a perfect, beautiful part of his plan.

word count: 1.7K

w a r n i n g s: hurt, angst, depression, kind of whump, brief mentions of smut, female receiving, violence, fist fights and brief mention of injuries.

a/n: my first official Kit Walker fic!! requested by an anonymous!! anon; hope this is what you had in mind and I delivered!! I tried to focus more on Kit’s motivations and issues than the smut, so that’s why it’s a little lighter on the fucking this go round! I dunno why I struggle writing for Kit so much, aaaaah! also written at work, so usual apologies for any disjointed or clunky writing!!!

full fic under the cut! / ao3 link here! / I don't have a taglist, but please turn on post notifications if you want to be notified of future fics!

The storm raged on outside, a horrible deluge that had lasted days. Kit's dark eyes flitted to the clock on the wall. The hands ticked by but time never seemed to change. Not here. He needed to feel something. Anything. The days turned into weeks, weeks into months and nothing ever changed. He was an accused man, previously compos mentis, but with his surroundings, that title deteriorated gradually.

Kit Walker was losing it. Slowly, but surely. The cold, grey tone of Briarcliff was swallowing him whole, like a starved, but fading beast. Days were the worst - at least come evening, he could sleep. With sleep, came dreams. Dreams of somewhere else, dreams of you. Days were long and dreary, and Kit soon realized that the only thing that mattered were physical feelings. His mind wasn't a safe place to be. The truth of it was, Kit felt his fire burning out, and started acting out.

First, it was intentionally burning the biscuits. He was reprimanded and sentenced to biscuit duty for the next two weeks. Then it was sneaking out from the common room on repeated occasions, sulking along the hallways as though he wanted to get caught. Deep down, he did. Reprimanded again, and confined to solitary as punishment. But that afternoon, he craved something deeper. He needed something that would last, and Sister Jude had an unusual streak of mercy lately. It had to be good.

"Hey, sugah’."

Your tired hands stopped their kneading. You looked up, wide-eyed, with a smear of flour across your cheek. He didn't know it, but you'd had a thing - a silly little crush - on Kit Walker since you saw him in the common room during your first week. You'd heard the rumours, but every time you exchanged words, he was the nicest guy you'd ever met. Seemed like he had good, strong family values and manners -- which was more than you could say for most of the men you'd met.

Kit spotted the dash of white and reached out, wiping it away with the pad of his thumb. You really were one of the cutest girls he'd seen since Alma. It wouldn't be hard to do what he wanted... what he needed to do to feel again.

"Hi, Kit." You murmured, frustrated before returning to the pile of off-white dough. The last thing you needed was a distraction; the biscuits were already hard enough to get right, and Sister Jude was a stickler for them being made correctly.

"Whatsa' mattah'?" He could sense your irritation, and furrowed his brows. Maybe his plan wasn't going to work after all.

"I can't... get these darn biscuits right! Every time I try, they come out too hard and I'm just..." You grit your teeth and shoved the mound of dough away from your hands. "I'm so frustrated!"

"Dough duty, huh?"

You nodded, and pushed a strand of hair out of your eyes with your wrist.

"Here, sweethaht', lemme' show you. I've done enough of 'em to know how to do it right."

He was suddenly behind you, his arms stretching out to the table in front of you. He rested his hands atop of yours, and slowly began moving them, kneading them slowly. Much slower and softer than you had been.

"Just like that," he murmured, his lips close to your ear. "You gotta' be gentle with 'em... firm, but not too much... or they'll seize up on ya', makes 'em tough." His words were low and sweet, and you didn't have to try very hard to find another meaning to them. They evoked a deep, body-rocking shiver from your core. It travelled up your spine and made your teeth chatter. Kit laughed breathily behind you.

"Am I doing it right?" You whispered, your voice sweet and demure, laced with intention. "I have a tendency to wanna'... go fast."

"Slooow, sugah', nice n' slow. Othawise..." His teeth grazed your ear. "The dough won't rise."

Without warning, you rutted your ass against his groin, moaning aloud. You ground your ass against him slowly, just like he told you to. Kit made a fist in the dough over yours, forcing your hands deep into the flour. This was progressing faster than he expected. He hadn't known you'd be so willing to his advances. His cock twitched to life, tightening the front of his pants.

"You want it bad, sugah'?"

"I want it bad," you echoed. Suddenly, all worries of getting caught went out the window, you were no longer concerned about which Sister would find you - you just wanted him.

It had been weeks since either of you felt intimacy, felt that clawing hunger as it boiled in your core. You whimpered and dropped your head to his shoulder.

"Let me feel you, Kit... please..."

Kit ripped his flour-covered fingers from the dough, and reached back to his crotch, pulling his throbbing cock from his pants. He flipped the edge of your uniform up, and pressed his heavy cock against the curve of your ass. The sensation was indescribable, and he let out a throaty groan.

The hunger had him. The hunger, and the promise of punishment. Your body was soft and sweet like the dough in front of you two and had him going, that was undeniable, but the threat was what was really driving him forward. He needed to feel everything he could. He took hold of his cock, stroking it slowly against your ass cheeks, feeling the precum as it leaked into his hands.

Kit's free hand wrapped around your hips again, urging them backwards into his own. You whimpered, letting him take full control. Your fingers were still embedded in the dough, squeezing through the spaces between your digits.

With a deep sound, Kit slipped himself inside you. Your walls squeezed around him as he plunged himself as deep as he could, humping you hard. His thrusts were determined, but steady and slow. Just like he'd said...

You reached around to take hold of his soft brown hair, making a fist in the locks. He didn't care that your fingers were covered in flour, and it was falling into the collar of his shirt. He didn't care about anything except what he was feeling.

Touch-starved, it didn't take him long to climax. Kit emptied his load inside you, pumping it deep. You whimpered, rolling your lips inward to soften the moans. You were close behind him, and when he whispered in your ear, begging you to do it, you did.

Kit heard the heavy bootsteps before you did. But he didn't move. He was ready.

"Hey! What in the hell do you think you're doin'!?" The orderly bellowed, and Kit yanked his softening cock from you. Your legs twitched together as it left you, the slippery feeling sending another wave of pleasure through you.

Phase two of his plan was in action. Kit stepped in front of you, fists raised in front of his face. He pumped, and threw the first punch, making contact with the guy's cheekbone. He reeled back, touching his skin to see if he'd broken skin -- he hadn't. But he was going to pay for that.

Fortunately for Kit and his now-sick need, he hit him back, harder, splitting his lip immediately. You spun around, pressing your back against the table, covering your mouth in horror as the two men fought.

The man threw a hard left hook and Kit went down, falling to the cold cement floor with a thud. You could do nothing but scream, begging for him to stop. Through winces, Kit looked up at you and shook his head. To you, he was being noble. To him, he was revelling in the pain he was feeling and wanted nothing to interrupt it.

"Assaulting an orderly, Mr. Walker?"

"Yes, Sistah'. He looked at me sideways."

"He interrupted your fornication, is what he did." She sternly remarked. Kit swallowed, looking down at his feet. The punishment was coming - he wouldn't have been called into her office otherwise.

"Seems like he got the better of you." She gestured to him pointedly. He had, that was true. Kit had gotten a few good punches in, but the orderly was bigger and brawnier, and had walloped him as soon as he'd gotten the chance. The cut on his lip stung every time he spoke, and his ribs were definitely bruised from the steel-toed berrage that he'd endured earlier.

"Over my desk," she rasped. Kit was almost excited -- a disgusting, disappointing feeling that he knew, deep down, he shouldn't be feeling. But a feeling was a feeling and he had to ride it out, in whatever way he could.

"Sistah' Jude," he interjected, as he bent over the modest wooden desk. "I'm sahrry' for what I did but don't punish her. She didn't do anything. It was all me."

"Mr. Walker," she replied. "I'll do exactly as I see fit."

The first hit stung. She was using the wooden switch, and it sliced through the air with an audible thwip. It burned against his skin, sweltering hot heat coursing over his cheeks and the back of his thighs. Tears bit at the corner of his eyes, it felt so terrible. That was just it -- it felt so terrible. He hadn't felt this much in weeks.

She hit him again, just above the spot where she'd previously hit. Kit winced again, clenching his fists hard atop her desk. Another one, and the tears streamed down his cheeks. He inhaled through clenched teeth and exhaled hard through his nose with each hit. Sister Jude's kind streak had ended, and she was unrelenting.

Twelve hits later, she finally stopped. Kit was sent back to his room, welted and bruised all over, but hell... at least he felt something.

#Kit Walker #Kit Walker x reader #Kit Walker x you #kit walker x y/n #ahs asylum #myfics #AHS smut #AHS fanfiction #Evan Peters #fanfiction #kit walker fanfiction

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pockeymcmockey · 2 years

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𝔄𝔫 𝔈𝔶𝔢 𝔉𝔬𝔯 𝔄𝔫 𝔈𝔶𝔢 | ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ

Summary: After Aemond takes the eye of his niece as revenge, he realizes he's made a mistake he may never get to fix...

Warnings: Angst, violence, blood, major injuries, ages follow the show and not the book, Reader goes by female pronouns, reader is the only child of Rhaenyra and Daemon, conceived during the brothel scene, cute matching moment between Aemond and Reader.

Author's Note: This is the edited version whereas I realized the original did not build as much of a relationship between Aemond and Reader as I would've liked. I hope this is much better to read!

𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 ℑ | 𝔑𝔢𝔵𝔱 𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱

A belching roar echoed throughout the stone walkway. Aemond's hand clutched the eye Lucerys attacked using his brother's dagger. Jacaerys stared with wide eyes at his uncle, whom was yet to react in any other way except sob for his missing eye. Guards and handmaidens rushed in at the gargling cry that intruded the quiet halls. Princess [Name] stood, frozen in horror at the act her younger brother has committed.

As the children were gathered in the King's chambers, Rhaenyra and Laenor were quick in their steps to reach their own children. Laenor checked on the boys while Rhaenyra sought out any scars upon her eldest's skin, only to find her unscathed. Rhaenyra held her daughter to her chest and turned to face her father and the Queen.

"What has happened? Why are my children scared out of their minds?" Rhaenyra breathed heavily, scared out of her own mind, worried about her children ending up as corpses one day. This wouldn't be the first time she found herself defending her children, finding that Alicent quite enjoyed trying to push punishment on them, especially her boys.

"Is this how you raise your children, Princess?" Alicent antagonized the Targaryen Princess with mocking words. "Allowing them to strike their own kin because of a beast?" The Queen narrowed her eyes at her former best friend, holding her youngest child close to her chest much like Rhaenyra. Aemond, while in his mother's hold, wouldn't take his stare off of his niece. She was older than him by two years, same age as his older brother, only months apart.

Aemond always had quite the strong feelings for his niece. Since he could remember she was always in the background, braiding his hair, sewing his clothes, fighting his battles. She was a gift from the gods to him. But he didn't want her to fight his battles. In fact, he almost resented her for thinking he was too weak to fight for himself. That resentment bubbled up into hatred, and he could think of nothing but.

Princess Rhaenyra, heir to the Iron Throne, sent her boys back to their respective bedrooms before checking once more that her daughter was unharmed. The younger Princess kept her apologizing gaze on Aemond, brows furrowed and a frown evident on her lips. Her eyes said "I'm sorry" but Aemond could only see pity, blinded by the hatred he grew to have for the girl.

Princess [Name] Targaryen, First of Her Name, returned to her bedchambers to sleep off the frightful events of the night. She found herself having trouble falling into slumber, fluffing up her pillow did not serve to alleviate her insomnia. Out of options—and patience—the princess asked for a bath to be prepared. When the white, pristine tub was displayed in front of her and the handmaids assigned to her aided in her undressing, [Name] sunk into the scolding water that would boil any other man.

The Princess dismissed her handmaidens, wanting isolated time to think upon what has transpired. Silence filled her chambers until a creak of her wooden door alerted her of someone's presence. Aemond stood with his hands behind his back in a defensive stance. His expression was one of true spite, vengeful, even. Before the princess knew what was coming to her, a scar was plastered on her left eye.

Blood slowly seeped out of the jagged wound slashed across her eye. The Princess held a trembling hand over it but the blood kept pouring. She used the undamaged eye in her possession to look up at her uncle, he wore the face of a boy who'd kill for his own greed. He was unfazed by the tears welding up in his niece's eye, or how she whispered his name repeatedly, asking him why he would do such a thing.

"An eye for an eye." Is all he spoke before storming out of her bedchambers to hide in his room. The Princess stood in the tub, droplets of translucency rolling down her figure and back into the mahogany puddle of blood. She used one hand to wrap herself in a robe while the other tried and failed to keep any more blood from spilling out. During her fiasco of dressing as appropriately as she could, Jacaerys and Lucerys both charged into her room.

"Seven Hells!" Lucerys cursed, earning an elbow nudge from his older brother. "What happened to you?" The youngest finally asked. Before the Princess could answer, their mother walked through, wondering why her children were still up. When she saw the damage made to her daughter's eye, the heir lost her resolve and sent a guard for her father.

When the King and Queen enter the Princess' chambers, they both find horrified expressions upon their faces. Rhaenyra sits beside her daughter, holding her protectively as Daemon checks his daughter's eye to see just how much damage his nephew caused. When the Rogue Prince was complete with his task of scanning his daughter, he turned to his brother and the Queen.

"That little cunt of yours blinded my daughter, brother." Daemon rested his weight on his sword, the Dark Sister, before speaking up again, "I'm sure he won't mind being a cripple for the rest of his life. I'll make sure he's still able to use his arms." Daemon chuckled at his own jest. The King raised a hand and shook his crown-bearing head, scolding his younger brother for speaking in such manners, about his own nephew at such.

"I'll personally have a talk with my own son if that's alright with you, dear brother?" Viserys Targaryen, First of His Name, King of the Andal, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm and Prince of Dragonstone, slouched toward his granddaughter. The two Targaryens, Grandsire and granddaughter, had quite a close relationship. Since she was born Viserys has done nothing but spoil her. She had the best than her own brothers.

Rhaenyra asked her father to step outside the chambers with her to discuss the issue at hand. The heir offered to leave for Dragonstone, feeling as the Red Keep is no longer safe for her children anymore. Viserys reluctantly agreed, wanting nothing but safety for his daughter and grandchildren. The Princess Rhaenyra calmly walked back inside the bedchambers of her oldest child, born full Targaryen with platinum hair and violet eyes that could pierce any mans heart with just a look.

The Targaryen heir and her children headed for Dragonstone that night. Just before leaving, [Name] caught the eyes of Aemond whom heard his parents quarrelling about his stunt this evening. Her gown blew behind her from the evening breeze and her hair that glistened like snow under the moonlight made her much better to admire from afar. Aemond looked away and to his hands, clenching them to where his growing finger nails left crescent stab wounds in his palms.

That night, the King and his wife, Alicent Hightower, berated Aemond for committing such a heinous act. The King more visibly upset about it than the Queen, whose only hope was that her son's recklessness wouldn't get him in too much trouble one of these days. Aemond spent the rest of his hours of the night wallowing in regret, knowing he mistook his hatred for Lucerys as his hatred for [Name], acting out on her instead of his attacker.

•⚔•

𝕾𝖎𝖝 𝖞𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖗...

The Princess [Name], given the title "The Princess of Vanity and Vengeance" for her breathtaking Targaryen beauty and the relentless fist she pounds into her enemies. On this day, the princess bares an eyepatch over her eye, hiding the consequence of her moment of weakness. Of course, no one would blame her, she was just a young girl, but the older princess, the one who pierced armour and led armies, would not allow herself to be seen as such any longer.

The eyepatch she wears reminds her of her biggest failure. Failing to protect her family and herself. Would things be different if she had told on her brother? Would she still have her eye? Questions she asks herself everyday hoping she'd somehow, someway, come up with the answer. But for now, she will head to the Red Keep with her parents and brothers. Being the only daughter, and the oldest at that, came with many challenges as men were more hesitant to listen to her than if it were her brother Jacaerys or even Lucerys.

Riding in on dragon-back, [Name] lands her dragon, Llanerion in the center of the courtyard, announcing her presence through actions. The white-bellied, blue scaled dragon shook the grime off his scales and allowed guards to lead him to the Dragonpit. As the Targaryen family entered the Keep, Rhaenyra and Daemon split up, heading toward the King's chambers. The children were made aware of the King's illness but do not know the extent of it which is best left unsaid.

Jacaerys called for his brother and sister to join him on the training grounds, wanting to get some practice in if he is to be King someday. [Name] was offered the role of heir by her mother but has denied that privilege, only wanting to live alongside the King or Queen as a warrior fighting for her people. Her mother had never been more proud of her.

The Princess [Name] noticed a crowd of men circling two others but paid them no mind, offering her helping services to her brother who gladly accepted, knowing his sister was one of the best sword fighters in Westeros. The two eldest children of Rhaenyra stood at attention, their swords crossed in an 'X' position, readying for a match. As their swords began to clink and slice against one another, the attention of the men surrounding Aemond and Ser Criston were redirected to the heir's kin.

[Name] ducked under the blade of her brother and kicked at his calf, knocking him off balance and bringing her sword around to dig into his neck just a bit. "If you are to be King someday, you must know how to outsmart your opponent, Jace." The princess offered her advice to the boy on the receiving end of her blade. Jacaerys huffed and took the hand of his sister who helped him up.

Applause startled the princess when she turned around, only to find the matching eye of her uncle staring at her with an expression unreadable. She glared swords at him and sheathed her own into its holster, climbing the cobble stairs from the training grounds to the halls of the Red Keep. Lucerys and Jacaerys noticed the longing gaze their uncle gave their sister and they followed her actions, narrowing their eyes at the man who ruined their sister's life.

Aemond returned to his chambers after training, removing his eyepatch, noticing how the loss of the eyepatch did little to repair his vision. He smirked at his remembrance of his niece with an eyepatch as well, giving her the benefit of looking almost unnoticeable to the prince. But Aemond knows her eyes, he knows her lips and he wishes he knew her touch but he allowed anger and revenge to cloud his mind. He ruined what he could've had with her and now he may never get another chance.

Taglist

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viharbinger · 3 months

Note

dad! jin makes me so soft 🥺 i would love if u would write smth for him

pairing: (ghost of Tsushima) dad!Jin Sakai x fem!reader

warnings: female reader, pregnancy, marriage au

a/n: I wanted to make this gender neutral but I'm not really sure how to do that considering this is dad!jin so I hope you are fine with it anon! 😭 maybe I could've made him like have a child earlier before he met reader but that would be an entirely different story I could probably make on a different day

also side note sorry for taking so long I've been playing a lot of uncharted 😝

When he found out you were with child, it's like he's gotten a strong instinct to support you. He's been coming home everyday from his missions with gifts for you and the unborn baby, from a hand crafted child's toy to a hunted deer for dinner!

"Jin.... What is this?" You raised an eyebrow at the sight. A deer mounted on his horse. "Dinner. For you and the little one." He caresses your head, the other hand rubbing against your stomach.

"We can't possibly eat all this before it goes bad." And he replies, "We won't let anyone go hungry. Don't worry." He reassures you before taking the deer down and walking off towards the kitchen where he'll let the servants do the rest of the job.

Right. You do so happen to live in a really privileged and comfortable home. Such perfect conditions to raise a baby. "How thoughtful of you." You say as you follow him through the snow. It looks like you're going to give birth to your baby in the spring, beautiful timing, as Yuriko and Jin says.

You were four months along now, not like you can't handle yourself but Jin begs to differ. He doesn't like you doing anything that he considers 'too dangerous' like doing the laundry or even walking around the streets of Omi village.

Not like you don't do these things against his wishes behind his back though. You do love your walks in the village, but you also do love being pampered by your husband. Oh, he'd cuddle you like a papa bear and shower you with affection. In your last months pregnant, you'd practically run to the door when you hear him come home on his horse but immediately start acting like you were a waddling penguin trying to get to her husband.

"What are you doing up? It's getting hot out, stay in." He ushers you in, brushing the hair out your face that blew when the wind passed by.

And finally... When your baby was about to be born he was so nervous. It was a rough night for the both of you, especially for you of course. But he was pacing around the entire house as you struggled with your contractions. And then came out a healthy, chubby little baby boy.

He was so adorable with his little arm and leg rolls, he was loved by everyone in Omi village. Oh... And your husband just won't leave him alone either. You think that because he's brought him on his horse so much as a baby that that's the reason why your son is so eager to be on one now.

Your husband would wrap your baby to his chest and take him on short rides outside, whispering things to your baby that he won't be able to understand. He'd show your son where he used to spar with his uncle, or where he first met you, telling stories in sweet whispers.

Meanwhile, your son was just sleeping against his chest as he talks to him. Maybe he was more so talking to himself. Jin would also learn to carve toys out of wood for his little boy, which your son absolutely adores. He's definitely spoiled alright.

And in the future when your son gets older, Jin would be teaching him how to hold a sword and fight with it. You actually want him to start learning a little later but they never waited for your approval anyways. Having them sparring and practicing without your approval in mind, you don't say anything because it's definitely funny when they scramble for their words looking for excuses. Like father like son, I suppose!

#. bees posts #ghost of tsushima fics #ghost of tsushima x reader #jin sakai fics #jin sakai x reader #jin sakai x you #jin sakai #ghost of tsushima

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5cookiekitty · 1 year

Note

Could you do a fanfic with you demon slayer fanfic idea with reader having the same personality as daki but worst and visiting them and was attacked by a hashira and had to call one of her siblings

*『koku-nii』

Yandere uppermoon {kokushibo} × little sister reader

Fanfic idea

'This is to easy.' The hashira avoided the array of pin like crystal that came flying towards him with a slash of his breathing. 'Somthing isn't right here.' He could feel it in his bones a she watched uppermoon zero send out more crystal's from the ground in which he weaved and dodge once more. The crystal's on her face that formed in the middle of head in the shape of a butterfly glowed allowing for crystal like butterfly to fly through the air.

"I can you feel you getting weaker and slower! Your a hashira right! If I kill you here I will certainly expect some praise!" The demons voice was sickenly gleeful on such a beautiful face. Her Kimono , that split open to show a leg that wore geta sandals and a ankle long white sock , fluttered in the wind like falling angel wings. Maybe she was one.

The hashira stared at the demon who was taunting him much like how a child would. ‘Something isn't right here.’ he thought as he easily deflected away another array of crystals coming his way. ‘There's no way it should be this easy right.’ this was an uppermoon of course but even he was getting bored with this battle. ‘Doesn't matter anyway…’ he activated his breathing as he slashed forward in an instant and behind the demon. “Cause your through”

The demon was quick to try to snap her head around with the anger on her beautiful face clear as day. “What did you just say to me you li-” and then suddenly the world was upside down and spinning as she collapsed like a marionette without its strings attached as her head gently rolled on the ground as her body slumped to the ground on its side. “Huh?”

“Do you mind telling me where your little demon friend is hiding.” he watched those e/c eyes glare at him from the floor. “Since you're too weak to be the one who killed all those slayers.” he got an angry screech in response. “What is that supposed to mean! I really am an uppermoon ,I am! I'll kill you for your insolence!” he looked down at the demon on the floor with confused eyes. “Can't kill me if you're dead.” His voice was flat and deadpanned.

“It's not over yet , You just caught me off guard! If I put my head back on, I'll show you! You wont get me a second time”

“You're right I won't get you a second time cause there isnt going to be a second time.”

“But-”

“Stop it , it's over. You're over so why don't you just go ahead and die already. Your reign of terror is over.” he was about ready to stop entertaining this soon-to-be-dead demon when suddenly he felt something. ‘What the-’ all the hairs on his body stood to attention as he narrowly avoided a thin crystal needle coming at him. ‘Hold on, wait a minute, why isn't she disintegrating.’

“How dare you!How dare you! How dare you!” the shrill voice on the angry demon renovated throughout the forest as she sat up onto her hands and knees, head forgotten in favor of slamming the ground down in anger. “DIE! DIE! DIE! all of you slayers can die!” the demon continued her babbling angry rant as the hashira stared on in growing confusion. “I'm an upper moon!i'm strong and i'm getting stronger everyday! I'm better than you!I'm better than you, you hear me!” The woman now had angry frustrated tears streaming down her face looking and acting too much like a child in dire need of comfort.

“My head got cut off! It got cut off! He cut it off!”

‘Wait hold on , who is she complaining to-’

And suddenly with a hand raised in the air that once more slammed onto the ground she released what felt like death itself.

“KOKU-NIIIIIIIIIIII”

And before the hashira could comprehend what was happening there was a sudden burst of unimaginable bloodlust throughout the area as something started to emerge from the female demon's back. Suddenly he was swinging forward as every instinct in his body since becoming a demon slayer activated in a sudden urge and need to kill the literal death-bringing-thing coming out from where it was hidden with his katana. And yet as soon as he neared the thing , inches away , his katana cut through nothing.

And then he heard sniffling and a whine and his head quickly snapped behind him to see the demoness , crying softly into a hand that cupped the side of her face gently as she tried in vain to whip away her rapidly falling tears. Head now attached to her body with a person crouched in front of her. “Y-you saw what he did right.” Her voice was soft and shaky , reminding the slayer of a crying child and not of a heartless demon that he knew she was. “I wasn't doing anything and yet-” she sounded like another slot of tears was going to come out as the last of her sentence wobbled out.

The slayer stood to the back , uncertain of what to do. Even for someone like him the back to back abnormalities were coming quickly and he felt as though he needed some time to rest.readying himself he quickly zipped across the room only to jump back when his face came too close to being sliced in half by a sword. ‘Shit.’ He could feel blood begin to dribble down from his head as his eyes finally found the new occupant in the room. ‘Double shit.’ cause staring back at him were six eyes , the middle pair having kanji written in it.

Uppermoon 1

“I knew something was off.” the slayer mumbled as he looked the upper moon up and down. ‘This is bad. I can feel it in my bones.’ He watched as the girl, not a woman , never to grow up and be one continued to cry to herself in the background. ‘Not to mention that one aint exited from the land of the living yet. What the absolute hell is going on here.’ he stepped back , a bit nervously , when uppermoon took a stance that blocked most of his view of the woman.

“You must be a hashira.” The demon talked slowly, giving his tone that of a gravitas one. ‘His whole aura screams unnerving tranquility.as if he's in control of everything.’ The hashira got into a stance , hands on the handle of his katana ready to strike at a moment's notice. “Yes I am.” he watched as the demon brought down his katana also into a stance ready to fight. “Good.” he said. “Maybe you'll last longer…than the others.” and with a swing of the katanas and the swirl of crystals the fight was on.

hours later y/n would give kokushibo her gift she meant to give him before she attacked in the midst of a bloody massacre. A hand carved comb with little dragons painted onto it to with white crystals. It would the next night when y/n had combined herself with him that he would genly touched the comb hidden away in his kimono as he stared up at the moon.

#platonic yandere #platonic #yandere #yandere kny #yandere kny x reader #yandere demon slayer #yandere uppermoons #yandere uppermoons x reader #yandere kokushibo #yandere kokushibo x reader

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wisteria-blooms · 11 months

Text

sunburns & dragons (charlie weasley & reader) (5/??)

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

TAGLIST: @badgerqueen07 @superduckmilkshake @k-k-merlin @kisskittenn @pluiesdefleurs@lilianelena39 @bathwater101 @evilunicorns4minions @noah-uhhh-what (Let me know if I missed you, or if you want to be added!) A/N: Thank you guys for the sweet comments! I love reading them and they make me write faster, apparently, haha. Let me know if you have any predictions! I'm super curious. ;)

CHAPTER 5: You get a lot more than you bargained for when Charlie shows up at dinner. For one, how does he manage to make politics, sexy? (4.7k words)

CHAPTER 5: ELECTRIC POLITICS

You were cloaked in warm and well slept-in sheets. You nestled yourself in that comfort for another moment before turning onto your back and cracking an eye open. Above you was a familiar tall and white ceiling. Yep, you were definitely back in your bed. It was always in the earliest of mornings that for the briefest of moments, your mind was inclined to forget what had happened the night before. As your lucidity grew, figments of last night came to you slowly.

You were at a bar with Charlie, talking about plans…

…That he shredded.

Right, that happened.

But had it all been a dream? Maybe it was still the morning after that disastrous dinner and your subconscious had plotted out the past couple of “days”.

You pulled your covers off and stared at your naked kneecap. There was a light bruise, a pale spot of red, from when Charlie was trying to ‘gauge’ your limits or whatever he’d called it. To think he’d left a mark by just casually holding your knee in his hand, not even intently putting pressure on it. To think if he’d done anything with intent…

“Get a grip on yourself,” you chastised, fanning away thoughts that were too lewd for the morning. You were growing annoyed with yourself after losing every shroud of strong-headedness you had. Charlie was just attractive and confident. But so were thousands of other men in the world, so why did he get to control your narrative last night?

You exhaled, resolving to think about it later, then walked over to the closet to dress for the day.

Narcissa was the only one in the sunroom when you arrived. It looked like your father and Draco had already had breakfast and gone off to do whatever the day asked of them.

“Good morning,” you greeted, slipping into your chair.

“You got in late last night,” Narcissa responded.

You shrugged. “It was Friday, and I’m young.”

There was a wrinkle of disapproval on her mouth. By now, Lucius would’ve told her about Charlie and about your little scene last weekend at the cafe, and she would’ve filled in your whereabouts last night with that information.

She looked out the garden and then back at you. “What does your schedule look like in a month’s time? Say, the second Sunday of October?”

“I imagine it’s free.”

“You best keep it open, then,” Narcissa continued. “My monthly book club is inviting a prolific author for tea. I would like you to join us.”

“Oh?” She’d certainly piqued your interest. “Who?”

“Madame Millicent,” she said. “She’s been praised as the face of female empowerment in the literary world.”

Female empowerment. This was exactly what you needed after you let Charlie throw you around like a rag doll, falling docile to his every touch and word. Hm, maybe having tea with this Madame Millicent wouldn’t be so bad.

The problem was that you hadn’t even heard of her. “What should I read to prepare?”

“That’s up to you,” Narcissa advised. “Choose a title of hers that interests you. She has three titles out now. I have everything in the study.”

You nodded. You had about a month which gave you more than a week to clear each book.

You had your coffee and pastry with a side of small talk, chatting with your mother about mundane topics like what her book club was reading this week and what she was doing this weekend.

Before you knew it, it was Friday afternoon, the day before the dinner. This day in particular, you found comfort in sitting on the couch in Fred and George’s flat with free use of their owl, writing letters to Charlie. This old rickety couch was now your favourite creative outlet, you supposed.

You hoped Charlie wasn’t fickle in his decisions, so you had to confirm he would be present tomorrow.

Hi, Charlie We’re still on for tomorrow?

Of course.

What are you wearing

Just then, a loud explosion sounded outside. Your jerky response drew out the 'g' in your sentence. You set the quill down on the coffee table, walked to the main door, opened it, and looked to the room adjacent to the flat.

“Are you alright?” you called out into the abyss.

You saw a thumbs up against a plum of black smoke, so you retreated back to the couch. When you returned, the letter was gone along with the owl. Minutes later, the owl returned with another letter.

I don’t have to tell you how improper that sounds, (Y/N). I’m saving this letter for a later date.

You wrote back with a reddening face.

You know I mean for this Saturday. And burn it, please.

The same old thing I always do. Is that okay?

An attire of a jean jacket thrown over a comfortably worn t-shirt would make your classist father curl with rage. It was perfect.

Of course. Remember, we’re at 8 Estates Lane and dinner starts at 6 p.m. If you end up at 6 Estates Lane, you may encounter Cecile, a widow, who’s just getting over her late husband. She’s still healing, so best to leave her alone.

Got it. See you at six tomorrow, (Y/N) darling.

In the time it took to read Charlie’s letter, Fred had tiptoed in and peered over your shoulder.

“Why don’t you just talk to him in person?”

“Because,” you sighed, turning around to poke him in the face with a quill, “You make fun of me when I come over now, and Charlie doesn’t seem to like to play by the books.”

“What do you mean?”

“He shredded my script last Friday.”

‘And touched me in places he shouldn’t have, and nearly kissed me, and made a fool of me in retrospect,’ you thought. But you wouldn’t tell Fred that was why you were nervous to see Charlie in person: because of whatever spell he’d put on you last time.

“It wasn’t good anyway,” Fred remarked honestly.

You furrowed your brows. You poured your heart and mind into that thing! “What do you mean?”

“You were writing lullabies. I almost fell asleep listening to them.”

“This is the least I can do to ensure some consistency,” you argued. “I won’t convince anyone at dinner if I act just as shocked as my parents.”

“Charlie isn’t going to be boxed in by whatever the rules are. He just does what feels right to him at the time, and his intuition is often correct.” Fred threw his arms up in defence after seeing your increasingly perturbed expression. “But don’t ask me, Bill knows him way better.”

“I’m sure, seeing they’re, what, two years apart?”

“They’ll tell each other everything, anything,” Fred added. “Actually, you should ask Bill if you need any blackmail material to keep Charlie in line.”

You were about to agree, but that thought was interrupted by an owl flying into the open window and pecking at you. You stared at the animal quizzically. Unless Charlie was continuing your pretty much finished conversation, then who was this for? You slit the ribbon and unfurled the parchment. Immediately, you noticed the penmanship was different. Neater. Crisper. Like it was written by someone who needed their numbers and figures written crystal clear, say, someone whose profession might be that of a bank official…

(Y/N), Charlie is wearing a black sweater and grey sweatpants. I heard you were curious as per your last letter. Sincerely, Bill Weasley

Noticing your mortified expression, Fred was quick to snatch the letter out of your hands. Immediately, his braying laughter filled the room.

“I told you they tell each other everything!” he boasted.

For the third time this week, you were sure you were parading about a sinking ship.

Tick, tick.

5:58 p.m. on Saturday evening, Lucius crossed one leg over the other, looking expectedly at the circular driveway that wrapped around a marble fountain outside the main entrance. He set his cane aside and adjusted his tie, a black piece in his suit of all black.

5:59 p.m., Narcissa tapped her fingers on her stocking-clad legs. She, too, took to a dress of all black. The only colour on her body was an emerald brooch.

6:00 p.m., a wave of nausea overtook you. You fiddled with a button on your white textured cardigan that you slipped over a black pleated dress.

6:01 p.m., Draco, dressed like his father, let out a scoff at your expense. Pitiful was the sound and wounded was your ego.

“So,” Lucius’s voice cut through the tense air. “Where is Charlie?”

You blanched, at a loss for an explanation. He’d promised you he was going to be here. You had written proof, but it would have no standing in your father’s court of law.

“Well?” he urged.

“Probably weaving his way through the forest,” you excused with as most conviction as you could muster. “It’s not easy to find such a remote location, especially a mansion on Estates Lane.”

Draco looked at his silver watch on his wrist and let out a sound of competent. “He’s already five minutes late. But I wasn’t expecting anything more from a Weasley, anyway.” Then, he suggested something you didn’t want to hear. “Father, how much longer should we wait before we call off this dinner? You and I have more important things to deal with anyway.”

“I’ll give it—”

Lucius was interrupted by the unmistakable sound of the front door opening. A few seconds later, Dobby came running.

“Who is it, Dobby?” Narcissa asked, standing up.

“It’s Ms. Cromwell and Mr. Weasley.”

“Ms. Cromwell?” Lucius repeated.

The four of you, Malfoys and all, shared the same confusion as you scurried to meet your guest—plural, you corrected, guests.

At the entrance of the door, Cecile Cromwell stood with Charlie. She was the heiress you mentioned in your letter. The grieving heiress you warned him not to bother. Her late husband, Chuck Cromwell, held a large fortune in his name before passing last month. Cecile looked polished as always, layers of diamonds and silver looped around her twill dress. Wrapped in her shawl, she looked like the face of elegance and especially juxtaposed to Charlie…

Charlie, who was not wearing what he said he was going to. In fact, he complemented Cecile perfectly.

He’d slicked his hair back and tied the longer strands up. His blouse boasted some frilly lace that looked like it belonged on Genevieve’s wedding dress rather than his broad chest. The blouse sleeves were long, and the same frilly material poked out at his wrists. He wore a red undercoat that clashed heavily with his purple overcoat which was embroidered with gold stitches. Perhaps the most terrible thing was that his pants cut off past his knees. But his legs weren’t bare, absolutely not. He chose some sort of silk stocking to run down his legs before they were swallowed by his buckled shoes.

“My apologies for the delay, Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy,” Charlie said. “And to you, my lovely (Y/N).”

You were relieved that Lucius and Narcissa’s gazes were so zoned in on Charlie that they couldn’t even spare you a glance. Because your face was a clear tell that you weren’t expecting this at all. Whatever happened to his promise of a jean jacket and slacks?

“I’d expected him to dress like this, something reflective of his character,” Draco whispered from beside you. “A circus act.”

“Bugger off,” you warned, giving him a push away.

“It was a rather circuitous route through the dense forest and trees,” Charlie explained, dusting off a twig that was stuck in the loopy lace of his blouse. You wanted to scream. “Luckily, I had Ms. Cromwell to guide me to safety.”

“Cecile is more than fine, Charles,” Cecile assured, smoothing out his suit for him. “As we discussed on the way here.”

“And Charlie is fine, as we discussed,” he added.

“You didn’t have to walk all the way here, Ms. Cromwell,” Lucius said rather hastily. “It’s rather chilly. Let me have the house elf escort you back.”

“Nonsense,” she deflected, only giving Lucius a moment of her time before fixing a strand of Charlie’s hair that a branch must’ve unstuck. “Walking keeps me youthful in my old age. And meeting Charles, I mean Charlie here, was the sunshine to my gloomy day.”

“I couldn’t have assumed you were over fifty,” Charlie commented.

“Oh, you,” Cecile said with a loud giggle. You’d never seen the heiress act like a fifteen-year old. “You remind me of my late husband so very much. Same name, just as handsome, and you’re dressed like him when we met as teenagers. Any lady would be lucky to have you.”

Well, at least someone in the room thought he looked charming in those dated robes.

“Men these days don’t possess that same sense of charming style. It’s always the same shades of black and white.”

Lucius and Draco both silently peered down at their suit of all black before Lucius said: “I fear that a storm could break any moment now, you best get going,” he insisted, nudging Dobby to take the heiress’s hand.

“I’m happy to provide direction anytime, Charlie,” Cecile reminded as Dobby guided—very gently pulled—her to the door. She shot him a wink. “You know where I live.”

Charlie stepped forward. “Of course, Cecile. Have a pleasant evening.”

Then, the door shut leaving the five of you in silence.

“How nice it is to be able to meet your neighbours, Mr. Malfoy, despite the circumstances of my delayed arrival,” Charlie said. “It doesn’t impress well upon me. I hope I can be forgiven for the gaffe.”

It took Lucius longer than usual to register Charlie’s words. It was apparent he was embarrassed that Cecile Cromwell was cognizant that Charlie Weasley was invited to his mansion for dinner. And was dating his daughter.

“Of course,” Narcissa answered in lieu of her frozen husband. “Shall we proceed to the dining room?”

She took Lucius’s hand and gave him a less-than-gentle nudge towards the hall. Lucius walked like the troll that had somehow stormed its way into Hogwarts in your third year. Still unable to speak, he walked along with Narcissa. Draco scampered behind your parents. All you could do was stare at the chaos Charlie caused by merely arriving.

“Come on then,” Charlie spoke in a low tone next to you. He took you by the hand as well.

“Where did you get these robes?” you asked, referring to his costume.

“It was my great-aunt’s father’s, or something of that sort. Mum wasn’t clear. It really was stowed away in the attic, and I wore it against better advice.”

“Why?”

“I’m a classy man,” Charlie boasted. “What more can I say?”

Dobby rushed back just in time to pour the wine. You were seated next to Charlie, Draco in front of you, and your parents on each side of the table.

“How is work, Mr. Malfoy?” Charlie asked through a polite sip of red when it settled.

“It’s been keeping me busy,” Lucius responded almost robotically.

“September is never a quiet time for the Ministry, as both my brothers and father say.”

Lucius was half-focused on conversation. He’d recovered from the Cecile incident, but there was another enemy: he couldn’t keep his eyes off Charlie’s hand that was doting touches on your arm and waist. Truthfully, neither could you. Charlie’s fingers squeezed sporadically and you thanked the wine glass for absorbing your squeal.

“Of course not, which is why we look forward to the summer. Speaking of, where will you summer?” Lucius asked. You nearly rolled your eyes at the uppity way he worded the question. Arthur had once asked you the same, but in a direct way: ‘Where are you going this summer?’

“We spend a day or two at some of the beach resorts in Romania, or dip into Greece, but there is one spot I’ve been dying to visit,” Charlie said.

“Where is that?” Lucius pressed.

“Your brother Theodore’s new estate in Paris.”

Lucius mouth paused mid-retort. Narcissa’s red lip was stuck, pressed against the wine glass.

You, on the other hand, had to fight the thunderous laugh rising in your chest.

“I’m sorry,” Lucius said, shaking his head with a slight laugh of disbelief. “I didn’t catch that. Where is this?”

“(Y/N) was telling me about how tremendous your brother’s Parisian estate was,” Charlie clarified, his words full of air and cheer. “I can imagine how big it is compared to this mansion. And I hear he hosts a wickedly good game of golf, which I’d be happy to partake in.”

“It’s good enough for Paris,” Lucius said. “But—”

“See, you and I are similar in that regard,” Charlie interrupted, raising a finger. Lucius’s frown grew steeper at how Charlie was now lumping them in the same bracket. “Living in the shadows of our perfect older brothers and being constantly compared to them.”

Lucius scoffed. “My parents knew better than to do that.”

‘Yeah, right,’ you thought. Your grandfather, Abraxas, loved to pit his two sons together, like they were animals in a ring. And like an unbreakable tradition, Lucius imposed that on you and Draco, and you knew you weren’t as wonderful as the perfect little Malfoy next to you.

“I would be pleased to meet your brother one day,” Charlie said. “Maybe next summer. After all, (Y/N) has met most of my extended family and there’s nothing that ties a partnership like family.”

“We’ll see what our plans are for next summer,” Lucius said. “It’s a little premature to be thinking of that already.”

“Of course,” Charlie conceded. “My apologies for being so rash.”

“Will you be returning to Romania?” Lucius asked. “Is it possible for you to have time off during summer with your job, anyway,?”

“It’s hard to be thinking about the summer already,” Charlie repeated with a smile, taking Lucius’s line and stuffing it back in his own mouth.

“So, what will you and (Y/N) do to see each other?” Narcissa quickly piped in with a wife’s intuition that her husband was going to cause a scene about the manner of Charlie’s response.

“Well, I’ll try my very best to make it back to England when I can for the holidays,” Charlie promised. “But (Y/N) is also intent on visiting Romania for weeks on end if there are time constraints.”

Narcissa was startled. “And she’ll travel herself?”

“Yes, I will,” you confirmed. Charlie glanced at over you, his expression proud and thoroughly impressed at your improvisation. You gave a small smile back.

“All that travelling does take a toll on the body, especially that of a young woman,” Narcissa warned. You redirected your attention to your wine, evading her glance over.

‘Oh, mother, thank you for always being so cognizant of the state of my reproductive organs,’ you thought.

Narcissa dug further into Charlie. “Have you considered settling down in one place?”

“Not in the next couple of years,” Charlie said. He was so convincing that you could see your future reflected in the polished glass in front of you, full of Romanian castles and mountains. “Nothing like travelling when we’re young, right, (Y/N)?”

You nodded. “Absolutely. We should take all the time we need.”

“Have you thought about marriage? Children? Wouldn’t it better for a family to remain in one place, too?” Narcissa asked, oblivious to Lucius’s eye that had just twitched. The thought of you and Charlie producing off-spring might’ve been revolting for him to forget about dinner altogether.

Charlie looked solemn. “That might not be in the picture.”

You quickly looked over. This was far from what you would’ve wanted him to say, but Charlie squeezed your knee to silence you. You almost kicked up at the table.

“It’s a shared decision, is it not?” Narcissa asked.

“Yes, of course,” you added breathlessly. Best to just play along with Charlie. “And I think, I think… the same.”

“We’ll re-evaluate in ten years,” Charlie assured.

“Ten—!” Lucius finally spoke for his wife, before cutting himself off. “And you’ll be how old then, Charles?”

“Thirty-nine,” Charlie responded. Rubbing salt on the wound, he reminded your parents: “And (Y/N) will be thirty-three.”

Now it was Narcissa’s turn to look as white as a spirit. She had you when she was twenty-four, and Draco at twenty-six. Comparatively, thirty-three was geriatric.

You bit down to quell the laugh that was trying to escape your lips. Charlie knew how to make your parents tick and hit each box perfectly, like he was scoring points on the Quidditch field in his prime years. In your little ‘lullaby’, you and Charlie were having ten kids, but having none was clearly the better option. You did prefer your mother over your father and hated to make her upset, but the constant reminder on you and never Draco to be married, to bear children, to be a mother yourself, was a lot.

“Draco will obviously carry on the family name should my decision remain unchanged.” You nudged Draco with your foot. Your tone was devilish; it was time for Draco to bear the burden of everything. “Won’t you?”

Draco growled back. You both loved offloading familial duties onto each other.

“What is your reason, Charles, if you don’t mind me asking?” Narcissa asked.

“Seeing how much my parents had to sacrifice and give up for themselves,” Charlie responded, a tinge of sadness coating his voice.

Again, if Charlie Weasley needed a second career, acting wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility.

“Well, when you make the decision to have more children than you can afford, that seems like an unavoidable issue,” Lucius said hotly.

“They struggled, but I wouldn’t trade any of my siblings for anything in the world.”

The air of the room was clouded with confusion. Lucius was set out to hate Charlie, but Charlie was acting the part of a perfect, coiffed gentleman (save for the remarks about Uncle Theo’s bigger estate and inviting himself over). Narcissa, though milder than Lucius, would’ve preferred a different man for you than Charlie Weasley, but she was upset you weren’t set out to have her grandchild(ren) anytime soon. Draco, always in the mood for a snarky comment, didn’t know whether to laugh or continue to live through the horror of a conversation your parents were actually invested in.

“Very well,” Lucius said, leaning back. “It’s a shame Kingsley’s new policies have made it harder for the working class to have children.”

You groaned internally. Even Draco, who was always on his father’s side, rolled his eyes at Lucius’s favourite topic: blaming every bad thing in the world on the current Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. It was easier for him to have sway over his predecessor, Cornelius Fudge. Well, before Fudge was forced to resign over some controversies in his office.

“Undoubtedly,” Charlie backed him up with a nod. Lucius looked at him with surprise; he hadn’t expected him to agree. But you didn’t think Charlie was going to, based on the crafty smirk on his face. “It’ll take decades to undo the damage Fudge put forth in his years in office, draining funding from things like childcare and parental leave and putting that money in the pockets of his friends instead.”

There it was.

Shadows appeared on Lucius’s countenance. “Fudge did no such thing.”

Draco slammed his face into his hands.

Lucius continued. “He’s only ever introduced good policies, like the potential reintroduction of dragon domestication.”

“Having spent a decade near them, I can say they’re absolutely not suitable for domestication,” Charlie pointed out.

“The earliest of Malfoys have been domesticators of dragons,” Lucius stated. “And they did very well, before the Ministers of Magic intervened.”

It was a touchy topic for your father indeed. Centuries ago, Malfoys did the unfathomable: they domesticated dragons and the only way to do that was to really hurt the beasts. And hunted them for sport. The same terrible creatures that had power to burn down cities, the same creatures that people staked their lives to tame. But ethics and politics shook down on the practice, and dragon domestication reflected once again in a bad light.

Or that was what you’d read. Lucius preferred to say that those in power were gleeful to finally shake down on Malfoys. Maybe it was just transgenerational shame. You knew Malfoys hated being told what to do.

“For good reason. The fatality rate of those trying to domesticate dragons was beyond any acceptable threshold, and vice versa.” Charlie’s voice was now lower, more serious than you’d ever heard him. His lovely bass notes reverberated in your ear and sent a chill down your spine.

“So, what exactly is the point of your job?” Lucius asked hotly. “Don’t you, on a technicality, domesticate them?”

“I study and work with them, Mr. Malfoy,” Charlie corrected. In a battle for authority, Charlie was winning. “You can call it taming, if you’d like, so they’re less destructive to the environment and wizardkind. I can make them pliable for transport as well.”

Your eyes darted back and forth between Lucius and Charlie.

Behind Charlie’s cool and collected demeanour, you had to wonder if he was affected by your father’s words. You knew he cared deeply about dragons, never even taking more than a week off them in the past decade. He wouldn’t ever fathom hurting them for personal gain.

“Let’s have some dinner, shall we?” Narcissa said quickly. No one wanted to see Lucius riled up over politics.

The rest of dinner proceeded without a hitch, in your eyes at least. In between courses, Charlie pulled you close and whispered in your ears. You were sure this was for show because you didn’t understand anything he was saying, or maybe it was because you were too busy gazing into his deep blue eyes and studying every freckle on his cheek.

When the clock struck nine, and the last drop of coffee was had, Charlie excused himself to leave.

“Thank you, Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy for such a delightful evening,” Charlie remarked at the door. “And for such an insightful discussion on dragon domestication, Mr. Malfoy.”

Charlie was tempting war.

“I would be happy to discuss this topic anytime, Charles,” Lucius responded icily.

Charlie hummed in agreement. “Of course.” Then, he turned to you.

In a flash, all you could see was a mouthy smirk that had definitely sunk ships in past lifetimes.

His right arm reached out to take you by the waist to spin you around. You expected him to only bid you goodnight but you were way off the mark. His lips remained silent. His left hand did all the talking by climbing to the back of your neck to position you how he wanted. He tilted your head back and inched closer and then—

His lips landed on yours.

You might’ve been flustered or pushed him away under normal circumstances, but this was no normal circumstance. Unsure of what to do, you lay immobile in his arms, like that rag doll you promised you weren’t going to be. Except you were, again. He was playing you like a marionette puppet and his hands were the strings. His grip on your waist tightened, his fingers digging into the fabric of the dress until you could feel each one. His lips stuck on yours like honey, like a fruit lolly from Honeydukes on a hot summer day. His eyelashes brushed against your eyelids as he tilted your head down further to deepen the kiss.

Patches of muscled torso pressed against the front of your body. Warmth seeped from his hand to the back of your neck as his palm caressed your skin while his fingers tangled themselves in your hair.

He deepened the kiss once more before pulling away.

You stumbled upwards as he withdrew himself. Your fingers ghosted over your flushed lips in disbelief, but again, no one saw. In this moment, no one cared about you.

When the stars faded and vision came to be, the first thing you saw were the agape mouths of your parents. But they weren’t going to chastise Charlie over the improper way he said goodbye; there were no words to be had.

“Have yourself a wonderful evening,” Charlie said in a manner so unaffected that you didn’t understand. He had just given you the most electric kiss you’ve ever had, and in front of your parents and brother. “And many thanks again for having me.”

NEXT CHAPTER>>

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

#charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley x oc #charlie weasley x you #charlie weasley fic #charlie weasley imagine

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