#it's. easier to deal with my feelings about my mother in some ways | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

i-cant-sing · 6 months

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I can’t get this scenario out of my head with yan!batfamily in which Bruce worms his way into a depressed reader’s life by marrying their mother and slowly taking over the role of parenting reader while dealing with the depression.

No because Bruce would do that. In his head, its just another mission to "save Y/n" and sure, your mother isn't exactly his type, and your depression isn't exactly her fault- the poor woman just works day and night for you both to survive in this outrageous economy, she doesn't have had enough time to see you not doing so well mentally.

Bruce and his sons, by whatever sequence of events, are now infatuated with you. What started as concern for your well being has now turned into obsessive need to control your life to make it better. So, yeah... Bruce decides to marry your mom, who is more than happy to finally find a chivalrous, handsome man... who just happens to also be very rich.

Meanwhile, you hate him. It's stupid, but you hate how filthy rich he is and even though you know that he donates a lot to charities, you still hate him because Bruce thinks money can solve everything (and in your case, it almost can), but you can't help but feel insulted everytime he offers you a cheque, a wad of cash to pay off your bills and loans, or even a $20 bill to get yourself some snacks. It feels... abnormal. You're not a charity case.

Perhaps your socioeconomic status isn't the only reason you're depressed. Maybe it's just you missing your father (could be dead/murdered/suicide/just moved far far away).

The moment Bruce finds out that your dad is the reason why you're so depressed, oh it's "I WILL FATHER ANOTHER CHILD IN NEED OF PROFESSIONAL HELP" time. He's doubling down on his paternal instincts and he's just mentally smacking himself like "ofc you need a father figure in your life. Who better than me????"

And it just makes your skin crawl at how nonchalant Bruce is about all this- about incorporating himself into your and your mother's life. Treating you both, especially you like you're actually related. Like he's been around with you two his entire life. You lose your appetite when he stays for dinner, but you sit at the table for your mother. You try to make excuses when your mother tells you that you have to go with her at the Wayne Manor because "Bruce wants to spend a day with family". You can't help but look at your mother in wonder at how she is comfortable when you both pull up at the manor. You thought things would be easier if Bruce's sons were also uncomfortable or even hated you and your mother (or thought that your mom was a gold digger), but no, they're just as worse as Bruce. Dick being particularly the worst in the sense that he's more affectionate and his love language is physical touch, so you get squished to his chest everytime he sees you, with a small cry "my baby!" Sometimes, "sis" would be added.

You didn't like either nickname.

Then there's Jason, who is the most normal one of them all, perhaps because he isn't around much and when he is, he just makes small talk.

Tim doesn't talk much either, but he stares a lot. Somehow you feel like he knows something about you, at least more than he's letting on.

And lastly, there's Damian, that pompous little shit. You know he's being amicable for Bruce, but his eyes look at you like he's judging you- thinks you're beneath him. Which is true, in the sense of finance. Despite all of that, Damian still wants to show you off his interests/things around the manor. He's still being arrogant ofc, "Look at this oil painting- it's a Van Gogh original. Van Gogh is a famous painter- he's dead though. I'm sure you aren't familiar with his works. I can take you to the Gotham gallery to show you more paintings. Father owns it, so it can be just us two without other people bothering us." He's nice but also not nice. But at least he's not doing it intentionally.

Then there's Bruce. Who is always looking at you with a small smile, but his eyes are always analysing you, even when he's not looking at you directly, you know that he's watching your every move like a hawk. He tries spending time with you, often he succeeds, only because your mother makes you go. He's a good man, hasn't done anything exactly inappropriate, but... even something as small as making you walk on the inner side of the sidewalk so that you're safe from the cars... it doesn't sit right with you. Why is he being so paternal? You certainly have been rude to him on purpose. Always giving him one word answers when he asks you how your day was.

Then one day your mother returns home with a beaming smile.

"Bruce proposed to me! We're getting married!"

After only 3 months of dating? It's what you wanted to say, but you held it back when you saw how happy she was.

The next day, Bruce held a dinner at the manor to celebrate the engagement. Surprisingly, that was the first time you saw Damian looking mad at you and your mom.

It was a reasonable reaction. Acceptable to you, instead of the overly excited yell of Dick "WE'RE GOING TO BE SIBLINGS! That means we can have slumber parties and pillow fights and-"

Your mother and Bruce were shopping for the wedding, looking at dresses and venues and all the shenanigans while you were at the manor, moving your and your mom's stuff in with the boys. It was the last thing you wanted, but your mother.... she insisted on it. Or at least that's what she says, you know Bruce insisted.

Doesn't matter because by next year, you'd be moving away to college anyways.

You just need to put up with this for a little longer and see your mother finally be happy.

You didn't expect your mother to be dead a week before the wedding.

It was out of the blue. You were sitting in the library at the manor because Dick refused to let you be alone in your room all the time, so he was making you some cookies while you read. Then he and Bruce came together, their faces pale as they looked at you.

"Y/n... your mother, she... she got in an accident."

She was driving to some restaurant, wanted to get you your favourite fried chicken and spend some time with you alone. But on her way, a truck crashed right into her car.

She died on the spot.

Whatever little improvement you had on your mental health went straight down the drain. You locked yourself in your room and just cried quietly. They left you alone the first few days, but then Bruce and Dick tried to persuade you to come out, that they were concerned for you. You did come out the day the funeral was held. And it hurt you... it hurt you so deeply when you found out they were burying her at the Wayne cemetery.

She wasn't a fucking Wayne.

If you had any strength, if you had any energy at all, you would've taken your mother and buried her someplace else.

But you didn't.

When you returned inside the manor, you went straight to your mother's room, which was also Bruce's room but you didn't care if he saw you in there or not. You just started packing all of your mother's stuff, her clothes, her jewellery, her photos, everything she came here with, which wasn't much to begin with but still.

"Y/n?" You stiffened when Bruce called you, but you didn't pause on packing. "What are you doing? Looking for something?"

You sighed. Might as well get this over with.

You turnd around, not looking him in the eye.

"I'm moving out. And I'm taking mom's stuff with me. You can check, I'm not stealing anything that belongs to you."

Bruce looked at you in confusion. "Moving out? Where are you going?"

"College. I'll be going there soon anyways, so I'm moving to an apartment with some friends."

"Oh, but you don't need to move out. You can stay with us. Youre family-" you cut him off.

"Bruce, let's not." You finally look at him. "We're not family. I never was, I never wanted to be. Mom's gone now, and I have no reason or desire to be here. Thank you for letting me stay here for as long as you have, but I will be moving out by tomorrow, if not tonight." You said picking up your mother's bag of stuff and walking out of the room. Bruce followed you to your room.

"But I don't want you to move-"

You dropped the bags. "I don't care what you want!"

Bruce looked at you with his brows furrowed. He didn't get why you were acting like this. Your yelling had gotten the attention of the boys too, all looking in confusion at the bags.

"I don't want to be a part of this family. I never have, and I never will. I never liked you or anyone in this family. And if you're concerned about me speaking to the media about you guys, don't worry. If it helps you, you can make me sign an NDA!"

Damian narrowed his eyes at you. "Dont talk to father like-"

"Shut up!" You yelled harshly. You didn't care who you were hurting. Your mother was gone, you had no reason to be amicable to them anymore.

They left you alone that day, and by the next morning, you were ready to leave. At 6 am, you walked down to the main door, with your bags. You weren't expecting them all to be waiting for you, but here they were. You took a step towards the door, but Dick stopped you.

He cleared his throat. "Um, this is the NDA... if you'd just sign it here." He handed you the papers.

Unbelievable. They actually drew up a contract. You took the pen from his hand and signed at the dotted lines.

"Bye." You took another step, except Damian and Tim blocked your path.

"What now?"

"Where are you going?" Tim asked.

"Do we have to go over this again?" You grumbled. "College." You answered.

"You can't." Damian said smugly. What's he smirking for?

"You're gonna break my legs?" You scoffed.

"No, you just signed a document saying that you're a part of this family, and Bruce Wayne is your guardian and has authority over all decisions concerning you like going to college, or even... going out of the house." Damian replied.

You looked at Bruce, because there's no way Damian is being serious. But there were no signs of joking. You looked at Dick, at Jason-

They were all dead serious.

"You cant- you can't be- you can't keep me here." You said.

"You signed the documents. It's your fault for not reading them." Tim said.

"Bruce-"

"I really do believe that it'd be better for you to stay here." Bruce said, taking ahold of your shoulders. "At least until you're doing better mentally."

"I'm fine-"

"I don't think so. And I could even take you to a psychiatrist, they'd agree with me." Bruce cupped your cheek as you flinched away. "You'd be happy here. I promise you that, you'll be safe and happy with us."

You'd try fighting, but you already knew you were outnumbered.

Besides, even if you weren't, even if you were alone with the smallest one of them, you still wouldn't be able to leave. You have no idea what Damian is capable of.

After all, he's the one who had your mother killed.

#yandere batfamily #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfam #yandere batman #yandere batboys #yandere bruce wayne #yandere damian wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere tim drake #yandere jason todd

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shadesoflsk · 4 months

Text

YOUR? OUR MARGARET

PAIRING: Leon Kennedy x Single mom!reader

SUMMARY: Life slowed down when Leon first saw those tiny rays of sunlight. But he didn't think he would fall in love with the whole sun. Or: Leon falls in love with a single mother.

WARNINGS: Brief mentions of alcohol, government, leon's traumas, love confessions, Leon is a bit insecure and awkward but he's also a sweetheart and has a soft spot for kids, cheesy and corny type of love, this is just fluff believe me!

WORD COUNT: 4.5k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: If I had a nickel for every time I've written about Leon's transition from vendetta to death island I would have two which it isn't a lot but it's funny it happened twice. If you wish to know what song Leon played this is the one I had in mind. As always, I hope you like it. This is my Valentine's Day fic for today!

MY MASTERLIST

Gruesome scenarios and depressive states of mind have tainted Leon's path in life. However, the grizzled and gloomy agent has had a rather rough patch this last year in which he was left alone to die in his own sorrow—Raccoon City, Spain, China and his already-known addiction took a toll on him.

He doesn't have anyone to blame, nor does he want to. Yeah, he could blame the government for stripping him of his innocence and his genuine wish to help people but he felt like he had failed his nation, not the DSO, not the FBI, just him.

Behind closed doors, in the white house and for everyone else he's Agent Leon Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy, and if someone were to ask the president he'd say he's the most trusted weapon the country has.

He has grown accustomed. His shield has hardened to the point he's numb to most things he should find disturbing or annoying yet he couldn’t help but wish someone would see him the way he really is.

A bittersweet feeling grew in Leon’s system. Alcohol no longer brought the same dull sensation that’d put him to sleep even in the loudest and sleazy bar. So, slowly he grew out of his addiction. Not alone, though. Alongside him were a couple of therapists which he reluctantly confided in. Not because he didn’t believe in mental health, but because he thought it wasn’t for him.

Also, his friends made his life a bit better. Spare the man the embarrassment, but friendship does indeed make you see the world more colorfully. It was nice hearing his name slip out of his friends' lips. Leon, Leon! Aww, Leon.

However, life didn’t prepare him for the moment his name was replaced by a:

Dada.

Therapists had told him he should look for a hobby, something that’d fill those moments where boredom or monotony would push him to fall back into his deadly addictions. And he completely understood, he ought to follow the experts’ advice in order to actually improve.

It was rather easier, he was not a complicated man.

Even before the Raccoon City incident, he loved exercising. Whether it was lifting weights, cycling, or plain running he’d always be found doing something. The mere thought of just lying in bed was something he’d never engage in, especially not now that he’s getting better.

So, he combined two things. One he was familiar with and a second one he hasn’t been able to really connect with: nature.

Near his current apartment, there was a small park in which he goes jogging. Usually, his schedule would only allow him to go there in the early hours of the morning where the only people he’d find were retired grandparents who danced to some Spanish music he couldn’t understand.

Peaceful, he liked it.

But when he was getting used to his daily morning jogging, a call from work told him they needed him ASAP. So, his little detoxicating activity would be postponed to the afternoon.

After dealing with the usual stress from work, calls from Hunnigan, and a rather bothersome headache, he got to his apartment and decided to get ready and not skip his so-needed jogging.

The afternoon sky was painted with a hue of blue mixing with the slightest orange color, the gentle breeze hitting Leon’s face as he jogged around the park. His tempo never missed a beat not even after an hour or so between his physical training and some pauses. Sweat fell from his forehead and onto the ground with each step he took, meaning that he was reaching exhaustion.

At last, he found solace under a tree that cast a shadow, perfect for Leon to catch his breath. Closing his eyes, he let his lungs inhale as much air as they could.

His peaceful moment was broken when a tiny voice called out for him. Or rather, mistaken him for someone else.

“Dada!” A little girl came walking to where he was seated, wobbly steps trying to reach him.

“Margaret!” You appeared out of nowhere before the toddler could reach and hug the stranger. The giggling and excited kid seemed to have heard “run faster” by the way she didn’t stop at your call.

A hint of confusion washed over Leon as he watched the scene develop with rather curious eyes. A mop of curly hair running away from your grasp. The white dress turned into a slightly brown color, Leon guessed the child must have been playing in the dirt.

And then a glimpse of a faint smile replaced his previous bewilderment as his eyes fell on you. As you tried catching your daughter, he observed her antics and your patience.

Finally, your hands lifted the little one as her tiny legs kicked in the air, ready to run in the air.

You fixed Margaret’s dress and messy hair while her bright eyes continued being focused on the man sitting on the grass. Her hands doing the typical “grabby” motion to Leon. Sighing in defeat, you spoke to the man.

“Sorry, don’t know what happened.” You sheepishly said as you offered the man an apology for your daughter’s previous mischievous actions. “She usually doesn’t call random people dada I assure you.”

“She gave me quite the scare.” Leon chuckled as he got up from the grass. “My past actions flashed before my eyes.”

“As I said, I’m sorry.” You repeated your words while your daughter tried wriggling her way out of your arms. When she saw that her mother’s grip wasn’t budging, she took matters into her own hands.

She started crying.

You weren’t letting your daughter play with a stranger, that much you knew.

“My name’s Leon, by the way.” Leon said, extending his arm, but he pulled back as soon as he saw that you were too busy handling the tantrum your daughter was having.

You told Leon your name which easily fell from his lips to confirm he heard you well. “Do you normally come here?” You asked.

“Yes, but just in the mornings.” He responded, watching the little one pouting. “Something came out today so duty called. Cops don’t rest.”

“Wait, Are you a cop?” You seemed to relax at the revelation and he couldn’t help but get a Deja Vu from this little interaction. A friend of his asked him the same question, but at least now he wasn’t surrounded by zombies.

“A cop…” A whisper came out from Leon’s lips, a playful yet gentle smile formed on his face. “Kinda.”

“I’ll assume you’re way more important than that.” You adjusted Margaret in your arms when she finally calmed. Although she kept on staring at Leon, her bright eyes focused on him. “Because if you were indeed a cop or a chief you’d be puffing your chest out.”

“Are they always like that?” He acted surprised.

“Here, in New York? I don’t know… you tell me.”

It’s been a while since he last spoke with someone this freely. Surely he has talked with his friends a lot. But they were people he had previously known and shared the same past as him, a connection to the outside world seemed impossible and even greedy in a way.

Soon, both of you found yourselves unable to stop talking, even Margaret chirped from time to time, making her opinion loud and clear. He got to know a bit about you, and you got to know little fragments of his life. The ones who wouldn’t lead him to share more than necessary, obviously.

Despite the rough exterior, his constant frowning stopped as a soft expression replaced it. Margaret's chubby hands absentmindedly held one of Leon’s fingers as he spoke with you, blabbering and being overjoyed by his presence.

However, her cheerful mood slowly turned sour as soon as she got hungry. Glassy eyes and sobs warned you that the conversation would come to an end.

“Yup, I gotta go.” You murmured trying not to bring more stress to your already distressed baby. “It was nice talking to you.”

“Likewise.” Leon kept his hands in his pockets, unable to come up with anything else. He wanted to say that perhaps they could repeat this. But then again, he’s been so deprived of normal social interactions that he no longer knows if that would sound creepy.

“Have a good night.” He decided it would be the wisest thing to do. He watched your soft expression as you took your little girl’s hand and waved goodbye.

Ever since that little interaction, his schedule changed. His morning routine was long forgotten. An excuse was made, something between the lines that his shift changed so he has to work in the mornings.

And he was delighted to spend time with both of you. The highlights of his whole day would be getting to hear about you and Margaret.

Each day that passed meant new memories being made. From the way he got to know Margaret’s favorite ice cream flavor to your childhood dreams. Every detail mattered for him because he could now see how simple life could be.

He took—both of you mostly— on little dates. Let it be to try a new cafeteria near the park, drinking an americano while Margaret drank from her sippy cut which was filled with chocolate milk.

However, there were times in which Margaret would stay with a friend of yours. Allowing you to be alone with Leon. And while he appreciates the joy and happiness your daughter brought, he also loved the moments in which he could focus just on you.

Sadly, years of training didn’t prepare him to man up and make the first move. When he thought he would brush away every insecurity and second guesses, something would come up.

He wanted to grab your hand, the waiter would come at the worst time. He wants to compliment you, he'd almost choke with his own saliva. He wanted to give you a goodbye kiss after driving you home, someone would call him.

It was as if the universe was against him.

Thankfully, you had picked up those hints. And if Leon wasn't the luckiest man out there, you can help him in his predicament.

On a usual afternoon, as Margaret played with the leaves that had fallen from the trees, you shot him a question.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?”

“Huh? Yes, it sounds nice.” Leon absentmindedly replied, thinking it would be like the rest of your dates.

“I mean… In my house. I don't think I've invited you yet.”

In the meantime, Margaret had grabbed some leaves which she placed on Leon's hair. The man didn't even react to it, already used to her antics.

“I wouldn't like to intrude.”

“You wouldn't. See it as a friendly meeting.”

Friendly meeting, of course. He couldn’t be so selfish.

“If you insist.” He says as the little one giggles, her smile just showing two teeth. “When would it be?”

“Are you free this 14th?”

He nods, he doesn't even remember if he's in fact free. But he'd make time.

Besides, who works on Valentine’s Day?

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

He wishes he would've realized about the implications of the day sooner.

The other dates have been nothing but platonic. Of course he had been nervous, biting his nails to the point where had to put on clear nail polish.

But this one is for Valentine's Day. Day where people confess their love in dramatic ways. Some lucky people even propose on this date.

Leon has been out of the dating game for years. He believes he'll mess it up somehow, especially as he sees the reflection of himself in the mirror.

Of course, he knows he's getting better. But his appearance tells everyone otherwise. His hair continues being dark, a big contrast from his past self whose blond hair would be the talk of some people.

The palm of his hand brushes over his stubble cheek. The sensation of those tiny hairs is similar to blades. He looks at his watch, there is no time to shave. The last thing he wanted was to be late on his first date.

He sighs and walks toward the table, on top of it are two bouquets. One has multiple red and pink roses, that one is for you. The other one consists of a single white rose, for Margaret. Even if he has forgotten the basics of dating, he wouldn’t go empty-handed to your home.

The drive to your house isn’t an easy one. Not because he lacked driving skills, he is pretty much proud of how well he could drive when he is not facing life-or-death situations.

He takes his car, just for today. He knows he has to be himself and show you his love for bikes. But he would be lying if he wasn’t a tad scared about coming to your house driving his usual motorbike. What would you think? Surely you’d dump him for risking his life or something like that.

But he is so damned anxious. He turns on the radio, trying to muffle his thoughts but the first thing that comes up is a Valentine's Day advertisement. ‘Don’t mess up your date today! Try our newest product and—’ He’s trying, he doesn’t know what the ad is talking about but he needs no product for this date to be a success.

He turns off the stupid machine. After all, today’s music sucks. Nothing personal, he just doesn’t like it. He’d prefer if the radio played real music. Some Deftones and Korn would do.

But right now he’d dance to anything. Valentine’s Day, after all, should be a romantic getaway from the normalcy of life. Even though years had made him a corny individual, if it’s with you, romanticism should never die.

He’s rambling, his head is a mess. He sees himself slow dancing with you, Somethin’ Stupid playing in the background. He foresees a future in which he could paint next to your daughter, suns and trees never looked so pretty as he imagines that scenario.

Dating you would come with the whole pack, he knows well. But even at his age, he still feels like a broken child whenever he sees himself in the mirror. Memories of his innocence being stripped away of him and his present still clinging on to the faint threads of hope.

So that’s why he made the promise of taking this relationship seriously. No matter if you end up being nothing more than friends. People often say that you just know when you meet the one. And he saw the beacons of lights announcing the whole sun when he met you and your little one.

Eventually, he reaches your home. Double-checking the address you had previously sent him over text, he confirms this is the place you live in. A modest house, enough for you and Margaret.

He switches off the engine and takes out the key from the ignition. Placing his hands one last time on the steering wheel, he takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. And with a newfound conviction, he grabs the two bouquets and gets out of the car.

When he walks towards the door, he immediately knocks. If he dared to wait just a second just to calm his anxiety, he’d spend at least 5 minutes staring at the wooden material. So, he sacrifices that priceless time in order to face reality.

A ‘coming’ is heard by Leon a few seconds after he knocks. Eventually, the front door opens and you welcome him with Margaret in your arms. “Hey.” You greet him, Margaret doing the same as she waves her hand.

“Hey, you two.” Leon says with a warm smile, trying to hold back the fact that there hasn’t been a better image than this. “I couldn’t come empty-handed to your house so I took the liberty to bring you these.”

Leon then hands you the bouquets he had brought—the bigger one for you, and the smaller one with a single rose for Margaret.

“Are these for me?” A dumb question, of course. But there’s no harm to ask and surely it would get a nice reply from Leon who has been dancing around the idea of flirting with you. Too scared to come off as awkward and silly.

“I don’t see another pretty woman around here.” It slips so smoothly out of his lips. Leon Kennedy, you still got it, he mentally praises himself.

“Yeah, right.” You roll your eyes, satisfied with the answer you received. “Please, come in.”

Leon nods and enters your house. The living room was nicely organized, and the way some toys blended in with the decoration brought a smile to his face. The perfect balance between the sober expected room with the colorful and childish playthings.

You set Margaret on the floor not before giving her the rose Leon gifted her. She absentmindedly walks toward the couch and sits down to inspect what an amazing thing the funny man brought.

“Well, looks like she likes them.” Leon hums as he watches how Margaret starts happily tearing the flower into tiny pieces. Her antics filling Leon’s heart, he could get used to this feeling.

He wants to.

“Yup, definitely.” And your eyes meet Leon’s, his piercing blue eyes are not cold as he often thinks. They remind you of the beach sea, of the gentle waves and the gentleness they carry.

And he sees himself in yours. In your eyes, he isn’t a cold and depressed agent who is fighting off the odds. He admires the man he’s becoming. The man who despite everything he has experienced, wants to do better.

“I haven’t told you yet but…” Leon trails off as he gathers the courage to do this simple yet nerve-wracking action. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

He grabs your hand and brings it to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he kisses your knuckles. A gentleman through and through. If he could win your heart, he’d do anything to protect both of you.

Although he was lying, even if he weren’t to win you over, you have already gained a friend who would literally save the world for you to live in with your most beautiful miracle.

“You’re sappy.” You shake your head laughing, but you don’t push Leon away. In a way, your teasing comes off as a thank you.

“And you break my heart.” He chuckles, letting go of your hand which falls to your side.

As it does, your eyes fall on Margaret. While she continues playing with torn pieces of the flower, you see her head swaying slowly from side to side, as if fighting off sleep.

“It’s nap time for little Margaret.” You break the silence as you walk toward Margaret whose tiny fingers still try to tear up the already destroyed rose.

You pick up Margaret and with the way she isn't getting fuzzy, your assumption was correct. She is fighting against Morpheus, sadly losing.

You glance at Leon who is standing in the same place you left him. Admiring the scene of you carrying your daughter.

“Would you like to help me?” You murmur.

Of course he does, he wants nothing more but to embark on this new life. He has seen so much horror and for once, he wants to indulge in this domestic dream of his.

“If you let me.”

Humble, timid, and definitely not showing how enthusiastic he was about helping you.

You nod and guide him upstairs. Margaret’s room was just next to yours, even though you prefer to sleep with her, still too nervous about her getting tangled in her own blankets.

As both of you reach the room, shades of pink and white greet Leon. Some toys are scattered around the floor too. Proof of Margaret’s wholesome behavior.

Margaret shifts in your arms, her previous peaceful demeanor changing given the frustration of not falling asleep yet. She is pretty much easy to handle when nap time comes, but today is one of those days.

“You told me I could help.” Leon's hushed voice reaches you. His eyes express the need to assist you in a task like this.

“Sure…” Your heart flutters as Leon steps up to help you. You indeed asked him if he wanted to come with you. But the fact he had so eagerly accepted the role made you appreciate him even more.

If that was even possible.

As Margaret starts letting out soft cries, you hand her to Leon who is quick to catch her. At first, Margaret is held rather awkwardly which brings a smile to your face before her cries get really serious.

You help Leon by moving his hand. That gains a quiet ‘ok ok’ meaning that he got the hang of it.

He positions Margaret on his chest, her face seeking the crook of his neck as she continues letting out tiny sobs. With his hand supporting his back, he rocks her.

If anyone were to see him, they'd think he's a father holding his daughter. But in his mind, he's holding your world, his world.

Oblivious to it, Leon started humming a song. He doesn’t know where he had heard it before. Maybe it came from his mother, a memory he thought was deeply buried in his mind.

Eventually, your baby falls asleep which definitely boosts Leon’s mood as she grins. He's built for this! He thinks.

He lays Margaret in her crib. The little one breathes slowly as she drifts off to dreamland.

Both of you slowly and quietly walk out of the room making sure not to make any loud noise and wake the sleeping princess.

As you slowly descend from the stairs and are once again in the living room, Leon’s mind is filled with expectations.

What's next?

What is he supposed to do now?

As if on cue, your words break the silence.

“I forgot to order the food.” You sheepishly admit as you nervously laugh. Between cleaning the house before Leon came and taking care of a toddler the fact that a dinner without food wouldn't be a dinner slipped out of your mind.

“I'll do it right now just give me a second to search for this one restau—”

“Hey, it's okay.” Leon reaches for your arm before you can walk toward where the phone is. He takes this opportunity to do all the things he has wanted to do with you. To accomplish each one of those silly yet endearing wishes of his.

“Besides… this is a great excuse for us to bond more.”

He lets go of your arm but instead, his hand takes out his cellphone. Your eyes curiously watch as he types something.

For a moment, Leon doesn't utter a word and you can see how his fingers are slightly shaking.

Leon looks up from the phone and gives you a gentle smile before he sets the phone aside. After a couple of seconds, the slow and wistful chords of a piano announce the beginning of a song.

“May I have this dance?” Leon extends his hand toward you.

You opt to accept his hand. In the back of your mind, you wanted to tease him one more time. Just like you did when he told you happy Valentine’s. But you feel this is way more important than those simple words.

As your hand locks with his, he pulls you closer to his body. His free arm finds its home in your lower back, not too low to keep it PG and not to discomfort you in this intimate dance.

Letting him guide you, you sway from side to side. His past self wouldn't have imagined that he could reach this level of serenity and tranquility. The simple thought of having a family was like a faraway dream.

Your head rests comfortably on Leon's shoulder, the scent of his cologne being your new favorite aroma. The one that brings you memories from the time you met him to all the dates you had that led to this very moment.

The song continues its course, and the outside world is forgotten for a moment. No words are exchanged as both of you drown in the homely feeling of dancing in each other's arms.

After a while, without lifting his head and allowing his lips to ever so slightly graze against your ears, Leon's voice cut through the peaceful melody.

“Let me in.” He whispers, his hands ever so slightly tightening around your middle section. His words brush against your ear like the soft melody that plays in the background.

“What do you mean?”

“Let me in, in your life. I don’t want to ask you to just be your partner.” The weight and truth of his statement turn your head in a messy place. “I want to be part of your life and Margaret’s.”

He wants to stick around, he wants to be greeted by you and Margaret each time he comes back from a mission. He wants to give Margaret the childhood he never had. And, he wants to fulfill every little dream you and he may have.

“I want to wake up next to you each morning. To Margaret telling us she's hungry in her own way.” He's always been a man of few words, but in this moment he could recite the whole bible if he wanted.

“I want to put Margaret to sleep every day just like I did today. And I want to sleep next to you every night, knowing that you're safe.”

“I don't want you to be a memory.” His lips move to the side of your face, daring to kiss your cheeks in a sweet manner. “I want you to be my whole life.”

Smoothly and with ease, his words fall from his lips while his tempo never falters. His thumb now softly rubs your skin, where his hand is located to support your back in the dance.

He'd want to take pride and tell you he's that good with words. However, many times he has rehearsed this speech that if he had stumbled on his words he'd have let the earth swallow him.

And as the song came to an end, so did Leon’s confession.

A few seconds of silence create the worst nightmare in Leon's imagination. He could already hear your words telling him you don't feel the same that you're already in love with someone else or—

Your knuckles caress Leon’s face, feeling the growing stubble on his cheek and jaw. The sensation of being touched like this has been a long-distance memory that he's completely forgotten what being loved felt like.

He now feels both of your hands cupping his face, prompting him to look you in the eyes. His blue eyes lock with yours and admire the softest of expressions drawn on your face.

As he gazes into you, he can only think how in love he is. And what a good life awaits for him.

And what feels like both an eternity and a split second, your lips connect with his in a tender yet meaningful kiss. One that he's been expecting after all this time.

The one is indeed not a myth.

AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: I had so much fun writing this. There's something about found family that makes me all soft and sappy lmao. And sorry if my despiction about cops is wrong... I've never set foot in the US so spare your writer the embarrassment. Anyway, I hope you all have a beautiful day! No matter if you spend it with your lover, friends or alone. (Dividers are from: @/cafekitsune)

💬 SHADESOFLSK: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #resident evil #resident evil x reader

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b00kdiary · 5 months

Text

Stay With Me | Rhysand

Rhysand x Reader

Rhysand reappears at the cabin four hours after he had gone on a mission- wounded and bleeding. Y/N has no choice but to help him, even if it means yanking out every ash arrow embedded in his wings by hand. But something Cassian once told her makes her re-think the line between pleasure and pain, and she will do anything to make it better for her High Lord.

‘Cassian said that the talon holds the most nerve endings, does that make it the most delicate to touch?’

Warnings: Mature themes (18+), swearing, body-image thoughts, blood and gore, and smut (Hint: Wing play)

MASTERLIST - 1 and 2

PART TWO

PART THREE

I couldn't stop pacing.

That's what I did when I was nervous, and on edge- I paced. Back and forth, back and forth, again and again, until I wore through the carpet and my entire body was thrumming with dread.

It had been four hours.

Four hours since Rhysand left to track those Hybern soldiers through the forest, hoping to be led back to their camp. For several weeks we've been dealing with Hybern forces infiltrating our land and yet we had no idea what they were planning.

It was the unknown that had made Rhysand go out tonight.

I had insisted I come, to help, to watch his back, something- but with the heavy snow and rain, he had been adamant that it would be easier to fly alone. Though I knew it was an excuse to keep me here, safe, and unharmed, while he was out there risking his life.

And now he was missing.

Four hours of silence and I was starting to feel violently sick with worry. I contemplated leaving the cabin, trekking on foot through the forest in search of him, but with the weather so furious and the fact he had been flying not walking, I knew it would be futile.

And Rhysand would kill me if he knew I had gone after him, especially when he had specifically instructed me to stay here.

"Stupid, arrogant High Lord," I cursed under my breath and despite the log fire crackling before me and the layers I wore, I still shivered from the brutal cut of the cold wind. My heart seized at the thought of Rhys out there in the brunt of it.

Hybern soldiers were ruthless and their hatred of the Night Court, of Rhysand was known. They could do anything to him; ash arrows, Faebane, dark magic, and Mother only knows what other weapons they have we don't know about.

"If he thinks I'm going to sit here like some kind of damsel," I scowl, my hands shaking as I yank on my discarded sword belt and daggers, "Then he is a bigger idiot than I thought possible."

I try and let my anger bubble over and overtake my fear as I make my way toward the heavy wood door, the sound of the whistling wind and perilous skies getting louder the closer I get to it. I'm trembling as I grip the handle, yanking it open with effort, the hinges stiff with the cold.

I stumble back a step at the sight of a tall male slumped against the door pane- blood pooled around his feet, stark against the white snow.

"Rhysand!"

All thoughts eddy from my head at the sight of him- his skin pale and dull, his midnight hair in disarray, his armour torn and filthy, and an agonised grimace lining his lips. A groan slips from him when my hands come to his chest, and my stomach turns at the warm blood that coats my palms.

"Cauldron, Rhys," I gasp, my throat closing as I stumble back into the cabin, his body weight half-leaning on me and every step he takes is slow and staggered, his face twisting as I guided him back with me. "What happened?"

"Hybern soldiers are assholes," Rhys grits out, a rough laugh slipping past his lips, but the sweet sound soon melts into a pained hiss when I turn so I can slam the door shut behind us- and I see why he's bleeding so goddamn much.

"Rhy- Rhys," I stutter, my fingers tightening into his suit, his muscles rippling under my touch, every breath he takes deeper and faster than the last. "The arrows, holy shit, there's so many-"

Five.

He had five arrows embedded into his back and wings.

"Really? I didn't notice," He grins, his heavy head lifting and those violet eyes meeting mine- though upon seeing the ire and worry on my face, that grin falters, "Hey, c'mon don't look at me like that, I'm alright-"

He sucks in a sharp breath of air, his eyes screwing shut when I begin to move back toward the sofa and I try not to let my body lock up when his hands fall to my waist and hips, long, ringed fingers digging into my flesh for leverage.

"Huh, I knew you wouldn't listen to me," He scoffs out a laugh, half-amused, half-breathless and my face burns with heat when he runs his hands idly down my sides, grazing pointedly over my sword belt and daggers. "You know it's an offence to disobey your High Lord, right?"

"Well since you're wounded and I'm the only one here to help," I grit out sardonically, ignoring how close his face is to mine as I guide his front down onto the sofa, careful not to touch his wings as I move behind him, "I'm sure you'll find a way to forgive me."

I frown at the amount of blood seeping out from his wounds, and I can feel how rigid his body is under my palms- he always was good at hiding his true emotions, masking his pain with an arrogant smile, or teasing words.

My breathing is shallow as I climb onto the sofa behind him, my soft thighs brushing his strong ones and my heart racing as I settle on my knees. His wings are limp on either side of him, one drooping down to the floor and the other sprawled over the cushions.

"You need to rip them out, darling," Rhys muses gently from under me and as if sensing my worry, his voice has lost all sense of humour. "No need to be gentle, I'm a big boy, I can take it."

"We both know you're a big Illyrian baby, Rhys," I tease, though my voice is strained and when he shifts his head sideways, looking over his wide shoulders at me, I see the small smile tilting his lips too.

I swallow the lump in my throat, shifting forward and placing a trembling hand on his back. To the arrow embedded at the junction of his wing and spine.

His hand slips back and curls around my thigh, fingers sprawling around the flesh and digging in as if he were bracing himself. The touch is distracting but I focus on my fingers wrapping around the arrow, a few inches from the entry point- and I hate how Rhysand's body flinches at the soft touch.

"Come on, darling," Rhysand sighs, his grip tightening around my thigh as I release a long breath, "Amren's going to kill me if I get any more blood on these cushions-"

I rip it out mid-sentence- and Rhysand's whole body jolts as I tear the arrow free from his flesh, a grunt of pain muffling into the leather beneath him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I whimper, my hand clamping down and applying pressure on the wound, the arrow discarded on the floor beside us. Rhysand trembles under me, his jaw locked so tight I can hear his teeth gritting together, "Shit Rhys, I'm sorry."

"It's- it's okay, it's okay," He pants, and I watch his face from the side, seeing him get paler and paler. He squeezes against my thigh, once, twice, and his eyes blink open, those violet eyes dark. "Keep going darling, you're doing so good, keep-keep going for me."

I feel the familiar burn of tears in my eyes as I lean forward, my fingers slippery with blood and gore as I curl my hold around the second arrow, this one just barely stuck near the very bottom of the left wing.

Ash arrows were notoriously dangerous, known for splintering within the flesh, one wrong move and Rhys would have pieces of the wood stuck in his wings and those would be near impossible for me to remove on my own.

I grit my teeth and pull, swift and brazen, not giving him or me a second to think about it. Again, Rhysand grunts, body viscerally jumping but he seems to bear the pain better the second time, his thighs clenching around mine for support.

"Forget what I said, I was wrong," I clear my throat, trying to force some ease and comfort into my tone as I run my hand up the muscles of Rhysand's back and I feel relief when he sighs, his body melting into my touch. "You're not a big Illyrian baby, you're a tough, strong male."

"What finally convinced you? The very manly way my body is shaking right now?" He released a long exhale, his mouth tugging into a smile and I can't help but laugh when his eyes glance back to meet mine. "Or the groans that keep slipping out no matter how hard I try to contain them?"

I laugh softly, my blood-stained hands running across the planes of Rhysand’s shoulders and back, the pad of my thumbs and forefingers circling around the stiff muscles, trying to get him to relax. He sighs, and his hand pulls against my thigh coaxing me higher up his body, closer than before.

"Nothing wrong with being vocal, Rhys, I would have thought five hundred years of existence would have taught you that," I run my finger across the membrane of his wing, feeling the soft, leathery texture as I move to the next arrow. "Females love to hear how you feel."

"Cruel, wicked thing," Rhysand mumbled, his breath hitching at the tender touch I grazed over his wings, and it was a very different sound to before. "You're enjoying this, aren't you? Having me at your mercy."

I wrap my hand around the arrow stuck in the middle of his wing and his body tenses- knowing what was waiting. I frown, hating that he is in pain and unconsciously, my left hand moves to his other wing, and he gasps, eyes widening when I run the pad of my thumb over the talon at the tip- a spot I knew was sensitive.

I tear the arrow out of the right wing with one hand, while my other rakes down the curve of his left wing, my nails scratching softly against the tender flesh there. Rhysand groans, louder this time, and it's a sound that I feel through my body.

"Are you- are you trying to make it feel better, darling?" He asks quietly, his breaths loud in the silent room and his hand at my thigh caressing, his thumb swiping soothingly back and forth.

"Yes," I reply, equally as soft, and my heart is racing as I edge closer, my core and ass settling over one of his burning hot thighs. "Is it working?"

"Yes," He swallows, an audible sound and I see his Adam's apple bobble, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips as I reach for the fourth arrow. "Yes, it is, don't- don't stop." There's a slight tremor in his voice, a neediness that makes my head spin.

His body vibrates under me, but for a completely different reason now and it seems the more my idle hands wander curiously over the dancing veins and soft membranes of his wings, the less control he has over himself.

"Cassian said that the talon holds the most nerve endings, does that make it the most delicate to touch?" My voice is hoarse, and I ignore the sweat coating my skin and heat burning through me as I grab around the arrow, my shoulders bracing for the strength needed for this pull.

"Why are you and Cassian talking about the most sensitive parts of a male's wings?" He grits out, his thigh muscle tensing, and I feel it brush against my centre- wet and aching with need. A smile tugs at my lips at the darkness in his tone, that smile broadening when his wing twitches violently against my fingers.

"He also said that males can like having their wings touched during sex and that a brush against the right spot can make you climax, is that true?" His nails dig into my thigh at my whispered words, a moan slipping past his lips when I grip around the talon with a firm hold.

This time when I rip the arrow free, he doesn't feel the pain- too consumed and dizzy with pleasure.

"You're killing me, Y/N," Rhys chuckles, his body shaking with the laugh, a sound that travels through the air and over my skin like a phantom touch. I circle the heel of my palms into his shoulder blades, massaging out the tension and Rhys moans appreciatively, a low rumbling sound from deep in his chest.

"Only one left, Rhys," I say encouragingly, and he mutters incoherently in agreement as I lean forward, the last arrow embedded in his upper back- much deeper than the rest. I frown, rising onto my knees, already missing the strength and heat of his thigh between my legs. "This one's gone all the way through, I'm going to have to dig it out the other side."

"Just when I thought this couldn't get any more fun," Rhys jeers, his hand grazing along my thigh as I sit up as if needing my touch as reassurance.

My eyes narrow at his remark and suddenly the blood and the arrows and his pained face hold no bearing with me, the sympathy vanishes- replaced by the anger that had me ready to march out into a storm to look for him.

"That's what happens when you go chasing the enemy with no backup," I mutter stiffly, and this time when I grab the arrow, I don't give Rhys any satisfaction or comfort- no, I break the arrow in two with an easy snap of the wrist, dropping the fragmented piece to the floor with a clink.

He winces, and when I hover above him, his head turns to look at me, a sheepish smile on his handsome face.

"I take it you're still upset with me then, darling," Rhys muses and the ting of humour in his words makes me scowl, my touch no longer soft or soothing, my body no longer enjoying the hard, perfect feel of him.

“Turn around,” I order, dismissing him as I rise from him and onto my feet. His hand reaches for me, trying to grab me, a yearning in his touch, but I move away from him stiffly. “I need to dig out the arrow from the front.”

He purses his lips at my cold words, and I almost feel bad for him when he hisses in pain, his muscular, lean body so frail as he rolls onto his back, his sore wings moving slow and deliberately, barely able to lift higher than his shoulders before sagging back down again.

“Y/N,” Rhys sighs, a deep frown tugging at his lips as he drops his head against the armrest. I stare at him in silence, seeing him splayed out before me, chest rising and falling in harsh waves and those violet constellations unwavering upon me.

"You could have been killed, Rhysand," I grit out, and I hate the tears I feel prickling my eyes as I stare at him, at the blood coating my hands, and the sofa and the floor, the wound puncturing through his left pectoral. "If you don't trust me to have your back-"

"Don't say that, never say that" He rises faster than I can protest, and my hands shoot up to stop him, but he doesn't relent, his face harsh with discomfort but his eyes burn with determination as he sits up. "I trust you more than anyone, more than myself, don't ever think that Y/N."

"Alright, okay Rhys," I sigh, shaking my head and my hands are weak as I place them on his solid shoulders, trying to guide him to lay back down. His eyes never once leave mine and I can see the hurt in them- that I would even think such a thing. "I'm sorry, just lay down, you're still hurt."

His face tightens severely, and he looks so at odds with the male known for his easy smiles and bright stary eyes- but he obliges me as I guide him back down. His hands curve up my thighs and rest on my hips, and he doesn’t speak as he yanks me down, dragging me so that I straddle his waist.

“Rhys-“ I suck in a sharp breath when he settles me, forcing my weight to sit atop him, my thighs clamped around his hips, my core settled just under his belly button and his calloused hands kneading the flesh at my sides.

"I told you to stay here because I couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to you," He whispers, eyes unbearably soft, and his touch igniting something hot in me, "If they did something to you if you got hurt... I don't know what I would do, Y/N."

I swallow the lump in my throat, my heart hammering in my chest as I bring my hands forward to the front of his leathers, my fingers stumbling as I unbuckle the belts and slip off the buttons one by one, revealing the acres of tan skin and the dark whorls painted across his chest.

I gnaw on my cheek as I tug back the shirt, Rhysand silently watching every action, every breath I take, and my face falls at the wound leaking blood above his left pectoral, the arrowhead peeking through the gore.

“And what if something worse than this happened to you?" I whisper, my voice hoarse with emotion and when my eyes meet Rhysand’s again, his face tightens at the tears in my eyes, “What do you think I would do? How would I be able to live with it?"

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Rhysand swallows thickly and I watch as he grits his teeth, his body pulsing when I run my fingers over the wound, gauging how deep I have to feel, how best to remove the arrow in one piece.

“I need to dig it out with my fingers to get it to the surface first,” I clear my throat, ignoring the thick prolonged silence and taut tension between us, “It’s going to hurt, badly.”

“I know,” He locks his jaw, the strong angle sharp and I see the grim anticipation on his face when I move my index finger and thumb into position over the exit point. But without speaking, I move my body, lower, until my core settles over the front of his breeches- over his long, hard length.

“Y/N, you don’t have to-“ His breath hitches at the contact, his violet eyes widening and latching onto mine in surprise.

“I want to,” I whisper, need spreading through me at the feel of him under me, the smell of his arousal and mine wafting through the air, making me dizzy. “I’m trying to make it feel better, remember?”

I roll my hips, ever so slightly, and the electricity that shocks through my clit at the contact makes me gasp. Rhysand grunts, a low, heady sound, and the way he lifts his hips up to dig his cock into me is almost desperate.

“Cauldron,” He curses as I dig my fingers into his wound, the metal sharp and hot against my fingertips as I try and get leverage around it. His face twists but when I rock my hips again, dragging down his length, his pain dissolves into something carnal. “Cauldron, Y/N-“

“There we go,” I whisper, my fingers gripping around the arrowhead firmly, twisting it a few inches higher so that it protrudes out of his chest. I bite my lip to contain any sounds as I rut against him, my underwear and trousers soaked through, seeping into Rhysand’s slacks, making it easier to rub over his twitching length. “I’ve got it!”

He moans- the most erotic, lewd sound rumbles from him, low and loud, echoing through the room. I pant as he runs his hands over my body, over my thighs and hips and waist, kneading my stomach and love handles, before settling over my ass.

His nails carve crescent moons into the flesh as he palms me, the control he was so used to wielding in the bedroom not dwindling as he guided me back and forth faster and harder against him.

"This is the best pain I've ever felt, darling," Rhysand purrs, his voice like melted chocolate against my senses and the fire burning between my legs fans at his words. I lean forward, my breasts brushing his chest and my stomach settling against his- and I run my free hand over his sprawled wings.

"I'm going to pull it out now, yeah?" I mumble against his cheek, and I know his head is spinning, the pain and pleasure so at odds, so damning that his canines flash at me, his fingers bruising against my ass and his hips jolting up violently to meet mine.

“Do it, daring,” He commands, the role of the High Lord imprinted into him no matter the situation and almost as if it were programmed in me to obey, I kiss his cheek tenderly- and yank the arrowhead free in one go. “Shit, shit-“

I drag my centre over the tip of his cock, rolling my hips in fast, sharp strokes and Rhysand crumbles at the action- his eyes screw shut, his body stills like stone, and the filthiest, rawest cry tears from his lips, louder and fragmented when I rub at the tip of his talon with my palm.

I whimper at the feel of every hard inch of him cemented against me, the warmth of his hot seed leaking out and soaking his slacks, mixing our arousals, getting messier the more I rub against him.

“Y/N,” He moans my name into the crook of my neck, his teeth scraping against my pule point and his hands curling around my ass, forcing my hips to stop. Instead, he clamps my body flush to his, my tits pressed to his chest, my face buried in his soft hair, and I feel his cock pulsing and tremoring hard against me as he rides out his orgasm.

I feel Rhysand laugh roughly against my neck, the sound of his ragged breathing and the erratic rise and fall of his muscular chest against me making me sigh. His hands don’t loosen, in fact, they get tighter, guiding me until I’m laying flat, his arms wrapping over me and keeping me to his chest.

He was holding me like he didn’t want to let go.

There’s a long silence as I lay with him, our bodies melting together and his touch unrelenting upon me, holding onto my flesh for dear life, feeling me against him and sighing at the comfort. His breathing starts to deepen, turning heavy and I blink, shifting to move my weight off him.

“Don’t,” He grumbles, his arms drawing me back to his chest, a deep groan escaping him as he shifts so that my body slips between the gap of the sofa and his side. His eyes flutter closed again, and I watch his face ease into serenity as I lay my cheek against his shoulder.

“Stay with me.”

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

@mis-lil-red @hyemishii @assaultsofthought @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @satellitesunshine @queenofangrymoths @highlady-ofillyria @ladespedidas @magical-mischief-makers @lyracarvahall @ummmmmwat @eerievixen @bitchyinternetinfluencer @meritxellao @rachelnicolee @fanfictioniseverything @queen-of-arda @magdalenka @bunnymallowo @azzydaddy @fanboyluvr @maddithefangirl @jeannineee @fakelust @whatthefuckshappeningrn @honeycriess @cheneyq @brujitafantomatico

A/N:

Comment to be added to the tag-list >3

Should I make a part two??? part two here

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yanderehsr · 8 months

Note

Yandere Lyney, Zhongli, Dottore ((why not)) Neuvillette and Tighnari bring up the idea one day that they want a baby but darling dislikes children so she keeps changing the subject or ignoring the idea all together completely shutting that thought down plus the very idea of it makes her stomach cringe having a baby with them

I have a good idea which 4 I'll pick here, Hope you'll enjoy😄

Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour, Kidnapping, Suggestive in all of them, proceed at your own risk

Zhongli: You can't tell me this guy doesn't want children with you at all costs, so when you change subject and reject the idea, it honestly hurts him a bit, did you not want to have children with him, isn't he good enough. He can't deal with that, he is going to have a child with you no matter what you say.

All Zhongli needs is to slip you some nice sleeping aids, and he'll whisk you away to somewhere so far removed from society that only he knows about it, you have only yourself to blame here, if you hadn't rejected him then this wouldn't be happening at all, you will wake up sore with Zhongli cuddling you, you have no idea where you are and you feel strange, weird huh.

"This wouldn't be happening if you just accepted it from the very beginning. I am sure you'll be a great mother"

Dottore: Let's be honest here, this freak doesn't do this because he has a kink or because he genuinely wants a family, these children serve two reasons. One, they will bind you to him, it's something of a possessive bond. Two, they are experiments plain and simple.

Dottore also finds a bonus in all of this, he can use children to threaten you to be compliant, he doesn't care about your refusals or your discomfort, he just wants to pump a baby into you so it's easier to get you to obey. He doesn't even hide it and that's what is scariest.

"Wake up, I have confirmed that it worked this time... why are you crying, aren't you happy to have a child? No matter, you are having it whether you want to or not"

Neuvillette: He has brought it up to you so many times and each time you either change subject or completely shut the idea down, it's honestly starting to get to him a little, shouldn't the ultimate goal of any female be to have a child, that is atleast what he understood from other humans.

Neuvillette isn't someone who would force you to have a child, that would go against his morals, or the little morals he has left after kidnapping you, you can at the very least be happy he isn't someone who would force this, he will continue asking tho, hoping that one day you will say yes.

"I just wanted to bring up the subject of potential future childre-... Oh, ok, I understand, could you tell me how your day has been at the very least"

Tighnari: Fennec foxes mates for life, meaning they only get together with one person ever, and that so happens with you, Tighnari does want children but wont force anything if you don't want it, that is until he enters his heat.

Tighnari before a heat will force you away from him, but this time he forgot, and you happened to walk in on him during the heat, he would catch you quickly to have his way with you, he can't really control what he's doing here, but when he goes back to normal he finds himself happy instead, he is sure you'll make a great mother.

"Well there's nothing we can do now about it... you don't need to be so sad about it, I'll be with you every step of the way, MY mate"

#yandere #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere male #yandere zhongli #yandere zhongli x reader #yandere dottore #yandere dottore x reader #yandere neuvillette #yandere neuvillette x reader #yandere tighnari #yandere tighnari x reader

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punkpandapatrixk · 5 months

Text

🌟Blessings to Expect throughout 2024 ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

‘You’re always here. What are you doing?’

‘Nothing…nothing in particular.’

‘You’re Saibara’s grandson, right? Aren’t you working at the Blacksmith shop?’

‘I’m not interested in that. I want to go back to the city.’

‘Oh… I came from the city, too. My dad moved the family to this village because he was going to study plants. I felt lonely at first. But the people here are all very kind.’

‘I don’t feel lonely. But I can’t find what I want to do in this village.’

‘What is it you want that you can’t find here?’

‘Well, it’s…oh, nothing…’

‘My mother always says that if you can’t find what you want to do, then do what you can see to do now. Nobody finds what they want immediately. But if you waste your time every day because of that, you’ll never find anything... To tell you the truth, I haven’t found what I’m looking for yet, either. See you.’

— Mary and Gray’s conversation from Harvest Moon: Back To Nature

SONG: Somewhere Over the Rainbow by Judy Garland

MOVIE: The Wizard of Oz (1939)

[PAC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Welcoming Love, True Love

VIBE: Ready for Your Love (feat. MNEK) by Gorgon City

end of a struggle – King of Swords

You’ve been incredibly and marvellously responsible for…quite a number of years, I think? For some of you maybe a couple of months or so. But your struggles have ended; nearing ending; or you just haven’t realised yet how everything has changed for the better now. If you take a moment to really notice yourself, I’m sure you can tell just how much clearer you’ve become about many things pertaining to your surrounding and sense of Self. I feel you’ve worked really hard to overcome excessive trauma noises that have caused you a great deal of psychological pain.

Starting this year, you can feel more confident in your intellectual capacity to gauge situations right in front of you. Making choices will be a lot easier now because you’re clear about who you are as a person and what it is you truly want out of your own existence. You’ve clearly set enough boundaries with those who didn’t have your best interest. Seems to me you’ve learnt the hard way to be more selfish in the spirit of self-preservation. And so, the adventure of a lifetime begins right this moment.

In fact, I feel like your entire Life up until this point has been quite the adventure—only it has been filled with sorrow and misery, sorta. Surely it was your Hero’s Journey taking shape for the early chapters of your Life’s Story. A slow burn of a lifetime, if you will. Beginning this year, you’re entering the most exciting part of your rise to glory and everlasting happiness!

in your favour – 8 of Pentacles

You’ve been hustling behind the scenes for the most part. At least, those who aren’t close to you will never know just how much work you’ve put into bettering your world from the inside out. You worked so much on your mindset; you must’ve exercised a lot, too; tried to eat more cleanly and healthily; worked on your glow-up; brushed your skills; etc. You were investing in yourself for the future vision you’ve always held close to your heart. And for that reason, the seeds are now blooming.

You’re making me think of the bamboo plant. Did you know that a bamboo seedling takes around 5-7, maybe even 8-10, years to gestate underground? All alone in the dark without anyone knowing what’s going on down there. And when the seedling shoots up to the surface, the bamboo plant is famous for being the fastest growing plant there ever is.

So yeah~ fast or no fast in your mind, the point is that you’ve done the work on yourself and all the plans you’ve ever had for your Life. This year, 2+0+2+4=8, is the year you reap all the rewards and grow even faster from where you are now. Whatever undertaking you begin this year will gain traction super fast! Pat yourself on the back because when things get super good, you deserve to take a small break and just enjoy how far you’ve come~! Breathe~

catching stars – Page of Wands

Your Story is totally far from finished. With the Page aenergy—a kid’s aenergy—you’re only on the precipice of entering a Life of passion and purpose. You could almost say, it’s a new Story altogether just because this chapter of your Life is SO SO SO super good in comparison to the chapters about your struggles. I guess you’d call this a new arc huehue

You’re young Hercules now. Pretty soon, there will occur some big event that propels you into a bona fide hero, and then, you’ll meet your Megara~ This part of your Story is where you enter a circle of true—at least truer—friends and lovers who will motivate you throughout the next chapters of your Life. Sure, sure, struggles don’t just end, poof, like that and you will continuously need to learn to sift through these new breeds of friends and acquaintances. But that’s also part of your next level growing up, so don’t sweat the possibilities XD

Throughout 2024, you could be moving to a new environment and then meet new friends. Highkey you’re gonna be meeting Soulmates and Soul Fam members; these are the people who resemble you so much either on the inside or outside. These are people who think like you, care about the same things as you; basically you’re gonna finally feel like you truly belong somewhere on this Planet. Love is in the air because you’ve been giving so much Love to yourself before this point. You are Love. You emanate Love wherever you go because you love yourself, and thus you become a magnet for people who also will love you just as good~

APPLE STRUDEL🔻💛

honey lemon juice – Silver Magus (Merlin)

have a sweet time, honey – Priestess of Love

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Rising Up to Accept Yourself Wholly

VIBE: She Said from Kamikaze Girls

end of a struggle – Knight of Cups

You’ve kinda just gone through a death of a paradigm of sort. I feel that in the past, you simply didn’t really know who you were or what you were meant to be. This confusion of an identity was caused by your parents/caretakers not really appreciating you for who you were as a child or it could also be caused by your environment, race, culture, custom, tradition, stuff like that. It wasn’t your fault, you know. You literally grew up on your own and finally got clear about your own identity—you stopped caring if your real identity is too weird, too eccentric for this world.

Basically, you got tired of rejecting yourself. And you realised that you were doing that because you knew others wouldn’t accept you. Then you realised people are shitty and lame for the most part anyway, so you learnt to be OK with embracing all of your weird heart’s little desires. And you nurtured yourself and nurtured yourself until you rose above the lameness of most of Humanity. Did you know? You did the right thing, really. Through and through.

You’re definitely an Advanced Soul. I think even when you were a kid you always felt like there was some spirit/shadow parental figure walking behind you, guiding your thought processes. This older/bigger unseen figure was really just your own Higher Self, you know :D More than others would give you credit for, you’ve been such a good gal/boi for always listening to the guidance of your Higher Self~

in your favour – 3 of Pentacles

Beginning this year, you’re going to finally meet people who are similar to you. Similar as in, you’re going to meet a lot of colourful characters, really. People who also feel somewhat like society’s outcast. These people are going to come from various backgrounds and they will each have very interesting back stories and life experiences that will entertain you for a long time. These people could also have very strange, unusual hobbies that will spark your interest in new, alien pursuits.

With that said, this year could be the year you begin a new passion project of your own, with these people, new friends, you share a vision with. They do care about you and want to succeed together, so you can trust that these connections are going to bear sweet feelings for you. Most importantly, this year you’re going to know the sweet feeling of doing something meaningful with your natural talents born out of your innate interests. When you finally get the money, you will first and foremost taste gratitude from those who seem to love and enjoy what you do or have to offer~

Life really is getting better now because you’ve mustered the courage to explore your possibilities in all your eccentricity. Your Higher Self never meant for you to fit in anyway. You were always meant to be some sort of a genius trailblazer—a source of inspiration for the other lameass Humans who are too afraid to be themselves.

catching stars – 10 of Pentacles

What more can be said? On top of embracing yourself fully, loving yourself wholeheartedly, and meeting kindred spirits, you’re also going to gain a massive amount of money! Life’s always good when you have a lot of money! More money means a happier heart and more to share as well. But in your case, if you’ve chosen this Pile as your main pile, know that before a lot of money even trickles into your reality, it is the sense that you’re serving your Life Purpose what will make you feel rich.

After all, there could people reading this who came from a wealthy background and you may think you don’t crave or even care about money. Exactly. You never cared about a lack of money but didn’t you struggle with grounding yourself to this Reality because you didn’t know what you were put on Earth to do? This ‘10 of Pentacles sense of abundance’ encompasses a sense of material abundance that feels deserving; you can now feel worthy of getting paid for some passionate, incredible, show-stopping contribution you’ve made to society. Isn’t that such a wonderful feeling?

Some of you reading this could mend some broken bonds with family; some others could finally find a tribe—a Soul Family—and feel that you belong; some could start a family of your own with someone worthy of your high-grade affection. Congratulations~! You’ve really made it this far~ Things can only get better and better from here♥︎

APPLE STRUDEL🔻💗

honey lemon juice – Green Historian (Herodotus)

have a sweet time, honey – Priestess of Patience

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Pile 3 – Stepping On the Pedestal of Destiny

VIBE: Cheer Up, Charlie from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory

end of a struggle – King of Pentacles

If you’ve chosen this as your main pile, I just know it that you’ve been working so hard on yourself, on a level that’s practically incomprehensible for most people. I’m sure you’ve survived so many deaths of the spirit—and perhaps even some of the more dramatic attempts. And you’ve come on top of your misery now. You’ve gotten healthier and clearer about where you’re going next. I sense sometimes you still doubt yourself but it isn’t a sin to doubt, it’s just a sign that you want to do well. And on so many levels, sometimes you’re afraid because you genuinely want this dream/vision to happen to you.

I assure you with this reading that you’re on the fast track towards a rendezvous with Destiny. Fast…is honestly relative to each Soul’s blueprint tho XD Time is on your side and what’s meant for you can’t miss you. So chillax, OK? One thing to know about this great dream/vision of yours is that you’re going to see it manifest because you’re different from the rest. Different in that you want to see it manifest to be of service to the rest! When you really think about it…

Don’t you just know from deep within your Soul that you’re deserving of this great destiny? It’s because you’re going to serve a massive purpose with it! So many people would benefit from your realising this dream. And that’s the very thing! You’ve been holding on to this vision, and you want it, because you’re MEANT for it.

in your favour – 4 of Cups

I’ll be referencing the 1971 ver. of Willy Wonka here. And honestly, I think you should watch it by the weekend or something because that movie’s whole vibe will feel tremendously validating to you, I sense hahah

Have you heard of the theories that say Charlie was literally singled out by Willy Wonka from the very beginning? That he had chosen all of those horrible brats because he wanted to punish, oops, teach them a lesson, and that principally he had been watching Charlie and wanted HIM to inherit the Chocolate Factory. If you watch the 1971 film you’ll literally get it! And with this 4 of Cups, know that that’s how the Universe feels about you stepping into your destiny. Willy Wonka, or God idk, doesn’t want anybody else but YOU to fulfil this role~!

You’ve literally been chosen and singled out by the Universe to win the grand prize! Just so you know, as I’m typing these words I literally have the Willy Wonka movie playing on another window and as I typed ‘grand prize’, the person in the movie is saying it right at the same time at around the 19:11 minute mark. Things can’t get any more synchronous than that!🤯

This year, you’ll really see how every single thing is going to work out in your favour. And knowing the inner work you’ve done on yourself, I’m sure you’re spiritually mature enough to sense, to notice every small nudge that tells you what you need to do at a given time😊New adventures are just around the corner, baby~!

catching stars – 5 of Pentacles

So you see, how is 5 of Pentacles appearing for a segment about you catching stars? This is, in fact, reaffirming that your dream come true will also serve as a salve for those who are wounded and hurting. You really are a medicine for this sick world. This year, you’re going to see serendipitous events and meetings what will open the door towards the physical manifestation of your dream Reality. Once you step on to the pedestal of Destiny, there’s no stopping you. You’ll be moving so fast it drives you mad!

This card is also saying you must be careful of possible leeches coming towards you; it’s best to use caution and discernment when revealing to others your plans and goals. Be stingy with information as per your gut instinct’s nudges, OK? Be mature enough to know not everybody will be happy at the prospect of your massive success that could potentially change Mankind. People get envious of such ideas, alright? Be careful not to hit the already low self-esteem of some people around you LMAO

I also feel that this year you will begin new routines that benefit your health and physical strength. If this is something you’ve been working on, you will see this year that the implementation of these routines feels more natural and effortless. You’ve managed to master your thoughts, emotions, and time management—or soon to do. Money will also come more abundantly, so all your basic needs are easily met. You’ve become a magnet for good luck—or soon to notice you’ve done so!🍀

APPLE STRUDEL🔻🧡

honey lemon juice – Red Astronomer (Johannes Kepler)

have a sweet time, honey – Priestess of Innocence

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

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marimbles · 8 months

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I know. (I feel much more than I speak.) I know you, you know. (I see you, sometimes, in the shape of my shadow, in the blacks of my eyes, in the darkest corners of my nightmares.)

She is. (She disappeared one day, but she was fading long before.) I won’t tell you that I never thought about it. (The promise used haunt me—a new reality, written to the shape of my dreams.) Of course I thought about it. (I still think about it, some days. The dream still makes me ache.)

But everything comes at a price. (The price is always blood, and that’s why we’re both bleeding.)

In order to bring our mother back, (She had green eyes, like ours.) someone else would have to lose theirs. (I like when people say I look like her. I like being like her, any way I can. Don’t you?) And that, I couldn’t wish on anyone. (We are the same weight, you and I. Both heavy with the ache of missing her.)

Me? I manage to go on living, (The ache will not die and neither will I. We’re a package deal now.) trying to be happy, (It’s harder than you think, and also easier. Smiles are born from such simple things—did you know?) as she wanted me to. (I think she’d be proud, if she were here. It makes me smile.)

I have my friends to comfort me. (On grayscale days they are the color. They paint me from the inside out.) I’m okay now. (I will be.) I’m as well as I can be, anyway. (It will get better. That’s what their colors tell me.)

It must be painful (I know the hurt.) for someone who doesn’t have any close friends, (I used to watch my window like a movie, looking out at the life I wish I had.) or anyone to comfort them. (The house was always cold. I’m shivering even now.)

(Someone like you, yes.) (Someone like me, not long ago.)

Only you can decide not to be alone. (If you reach out in the dark there will be hands to meet you.)

(I understand. I love you now.)

(Do you?)

#this scene was a poem to me so i made it a poem #ml spoilers #ml paris #ml paris special #claw noir #griffe noir #ml #miraculous ladybug #ml paris spoilers #adrien agreste #mine #my art

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romanticintheory · 1 month

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Okay but could u write something fluffy with soap. Tbh I feel like he'd be the best friend to lovers kinda thing.

AND YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT i love friends to lovers so much guys u don't understand :(

also, i realize now that this isn't super fluff-heavy!! apologies </3 i got carried away.

johnny "soap" mactavish x gn!reader

warnings: horrid scottish slang from a non-scot (i am sincerely sorry), my writing from 2 am on three hours of sleep (also sincerely sorry)

-best friend to lovers with soap except there wasn't really a specific moment you two become each other's. it just... kind of happened.

-growing up with him and supporting his dreams to be a soldier while he supported yours. the first time he came back from a mission, you were the first person he wanted to see once he was allowed back home.

-you used to fuss over any injuries he got from being himself as a little kid, and the worry only heightened when he'd come back from missions with real wounds.

-his mom would always have a cheeky smile seeing you two together. she never said it, but it was always hinted in the way she acted. she was always talking to johnny about how you were such an impressive and loyal young person, often doting on you and insisting you stay for dinner (which, of course, you couldn't refuse).

-the first time johnny started dating someone, it was hard for you to deal with, but it got easier the more it happened.

-what you didn't know was johnny would take it even worse whenever you told him you started dating someone. he'd act all proud and protective in a brotherly fashion, but behind closed doors he was scowling to himself without knowing why.

-one day, you're visiting him in his apartment after he had been away for a few months. you're strangely more subdued than usual, and of course he notices.

-"hey," he calls to you softly, a strange contrast to his usual loud self. "what's wrong?"

-"nothing, don't worry about it," you reassure him, fiddling with the little plushie he got you from his travels--one of the many trinkets he's gotten for you. he always says it's to make up for the fact that he won't be there to bother you in person, but it's actually because every precious little thing he sees reminds him of you.

-"ah ken you're lying," he tells you in a warning tone.

-"i got broken up with, is all," you admit, turning your head away from him.

-"what?" he booms incredulously. how could anyone leave you? "is he insane? after getting an apartment together?"

-"there was this girl from his work and, well, i don't know," you shrugged, fighting back the tears you thought had dried days ago. "he wants the apartment. i mean, he did pay for more of it so-"

-"come live with me."

-it was your turn to be in disbelief, turning your head to face him with a confused look on your face.

-"what?"

-"th' place is empty with me at work. no rent, 's away from yer stupid ex, and ye get to be around me," he added jokingly. you rolled your eyes, but how could you not take him up on his offer?

-from then on, you're living with your best friend and taking care of the place while he's away. if you're staying rent-free, the least you could do was try and be as neat as possible (he insisted it was okay with the place looked like it was lived in, but you refused).

-when he'd come back from his missions, he'd still shower you in little gifts he'd get along the way when possible. you always tried to have some kind of meal ready for him, too.

-"you're always cooking for us, a'm feeling like i should do it sometime," he says, already knowing the answer to that proposal.

-"absolutely not." (the one time you let him cook was when you were both in college. he caught a pan on fire, somehow.)

-"you hurt me!"

-"oh, please."

-eventually, the routine becomes more and more domestic to the two of you. soap's mother always calls out how you two are living like a married couple, but the both of you just laugh it off like neither of you have noticed.

-you eventually notice changes in johnny's gifts. it went from gag gifts and plushies to little pieces of jewelry or intricate pens. sometimes you even think you catch him staring at you, but maybe it was just wishful thinking. he hasn't mentioned being interested in anyone in a while, either.

-it all comes to a head when johnny doesn't come home the day he said he would. sure, it happened at times, but this was the longest amount of time he's been late.

-eventually, he finally walks through the door with too many injuries, a bruise on his lip, and walking with a rough limp.

-you tend to him immediately, of course, interrogating him on what his doctor told him he should do to take care of his healing wounds. the rest of the night goes just like how the others have gone, with you making sure he's fed, warm, and resting.

-by the time you're closing his window for him, you're absolutely exhausted. you had barely gotten any sleep because of johnny's delayed return. normally, you would've let him do more for himself, but the extent of his injuries was worrying you.

-"ye ken am alright, aye?" he asks you in that low, rich voice, searching your eyes for something other than worry and sleepiness. he's sitting up in his bed by the time you walk back to him (despite the fact that you told him to lay down).

-"you're injured. you came home late."

-"what? ye have no faith in me?" he mocks hurt, trying to put a smile on your face or at least get an exhale of amusement out of you, but you weren't in the mood. he could tell by the way you didn't respond and the permanent but subtle frown on your face.

-"i know you're good at your job, johnny," you finally say, ready to call it a night.

-"good. then ye know i'll always come back home to ye, aye?"

-you swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded, too tired to overthink about what he just said.

-"come here," he orders quietly, reaching out to you.

-gently, he coaxes you into laying next to him. the last time you ever slept in the same bed as johnny was when you two were kids. you were having a sleepover at his house with you in his bed and him on a spare mattress. you had a nightmare so bad it woke johnny up, but instead of brushing it off and making a joke of it, he jumped into bed with you and hugged you protectively. he said it was a good way to train for becoming a soldier, and you couldn't help but snort with laughter.

-just like back then, you had an easy time falling asleep in his arms, now.

-you woke up that morning well-rested and still encased in johnny's arms, which was impressive considering the fact that most times he sleeps in a position that looks like he flung himself across the bed.

-when he wakes up, you sit up with the intention getting breakfast up and running, but johnny doesn't like that idea.

-"johnny, it's almost eleven. we have to eat something," you chide, trying to get out of his impossibly strong grasp.

-"ye get all sad when am gone but yer trying to leave, now?"

-"well, i suppose if you're well enough to joke, you're well enough to clean the rest of the house and cook, yeah?"

-he lets go of you immediately in a comical fashion, and you have to catch yourself as you hurl out of bed from the built momentum of your escape. you look back at him with a seriously? look on your face as he laughs at your near fall.

-"doesn't that hurt?" you question him, remembering the bruise and cut near his lips and throat.

-"maybe a little," he admits. "kiss it better?"

-the grin on his face makes you think he was setting you up for that one. how could he be so confident?

-just like the times when his mother called you two a married couple, you laughed it off and headed to the kitchen to start breakfast.

-that wasn't the only time johnny's behavior changed noticeably. now, his longing stares at you were more blatant than ever. he'd hold you by the waist if he was moving past you and even told someone flirting with him "oh, i've got someone at home," while he was on call with you on the other end.

-what more could you do than accept it? it wasn't like you didn't like it, anyway.

-one night, you're both in the dining room with you standing and him sitting down on a chair. his hands are on your waist with his legs on either side of you as you reapply a band-aid to his temple (something he could very well do on his own, but any excuse to be close to you, right?).

-as you finish putting it on, your attention draws itself to his lip nearly healed. gently ghosting your finger across the barely visible bruise, you murmur, "good to see this one's basically healed."

-"awe, but it isn't," he corrects you, a slight pout on his face.

-"it isn't?"

-"no, still hurts like hell." you should've seen this one coming. "kiss it better?"

-"that's the second time you've asked me," you were rolling your eyes as you withdrew your hand from his face, but he caught your hand in his.

-"am being serious, (n/n), only a kiss'll make it better," he insists, that damn smile back on his face.

-you couldn't help but wonder if he was actually being serious or just pulling your leg.

-"how could you be so sure?" you challenged him.

-"seen it in ma dreams." oh, that was a funny one.

-"you dream about kissing people to heal your wounds?" you ask through the remnants of your laughter, but he's still looking at you with that same far-off smile on his face.

-"no, just of you."

-there's a pause between the two of you as you process what he said.

-"oh."

-he squeezes your hand with an expectant look in his eyes, like he knew you were head over heels just as much as he was for you.

-you cleared your throat and tried to ignore the searing burning in your cheeks. "well, i guess if you dreamt it, it must be true," you tell him.

-he places his unoccupied hand under your chin and guides your face to his, but he doesn't close the gap. it was like he was waiting--making sure you really wanted to go through with this.

-but you do, so you press your lips to his and he lets go of your face to put his palm on the small of your back, pulling you impossibly closer toward him.

-later that night, when you're back in his arms watching your guys' favorite show and he's calling his mother to tell her the news, you can hear her shrieks of excitement coming through the phone.

-the only thing you don't hear is when she asks, "when's th' wedding?"

-"soon, hopefully," he looks at you leaning against him, head pressed against his shoulder and arm clinging to his like it was meant to be. "but there's no rush. a've waited this long, aye?"

#call of duty imagine #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #cod imagine #call of duty x you #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x you #johnny mactavish imagine #johnny soap mactavish imagine #soap imagine #cod mw x reader #soap x y/n #johnny mactavish x y/n #rarawrites

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princessconsuela120 · 4 months

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☾ SUNNY DAYS ☾

—☾

Request: Hey, could you write a remus x reader, childhood bestfriend? Maybe it was unrequited at first (by remus) then they got into a fight and he slowly started realizing?

Warnings: cursing, fighting, angst

Author’s note: I loved this request so much. I’m sorry to everyone who sent in requests, I’ve been really only in the mood to write for Harry Potter atm so it’s taking me a while to find inspo for the others. Enjoy guys!

—☾

FOR AS LONG AS YOU COULD REMEMBER, Remus John Lupin had been your one saving vice. Growing up, your mothers both met each other at a pilates class nonetheless, quickly becoming college best friends. Coincidentally, they both met their future husbands at the train station in London, when they were traveling to work. It was a surprise to both of them when they realized they were pregnant with you and Remus at the same time, let alone that the two of you would be wizards.

You both boarding the train to Hogwarts together, met the marauders together, and even managed to share majority of your schedules. But life didn’t get easier for you after going to Hogwarts. Student were mean, and people stuck their chins out at people born from muggle parents. For Remus it was easier to look the other way, considering he had enough to deal with as is. But for you it was harder.

Not only did you get teased for your blood status, but you soon realized that your friendship with Remus was growing to be more. You couldn’t love him like that, he was your best friend. Yet you did. He owned all your heart in the palm of his hand, and worst of all he didn’t even know.

“The more you stare at him, the more obvious it is that you're totally whipped.” Marlene teased, raising an eyebrow at you as she took the horklump juice from your hand, not wanting you to cause an explosion due to your daydreams.

“I’m not staring. I was just, seeing if I was doing it right.” You defended yourself, shaking yourself out of your daydream, your lips curling to a smile when you caught sight of Remus laughing at something James had said.

“Right, cause you meant to almost pour the whole bottle into the cauldron.” She gestured for you to look down, noticing the many ingredients you had almost incorrectly added, causing you to groan as you shook yourself back to her.

“Sorry I just, sorry.” You mumbled in response, looking down with a sigh.

“Y/n, come on.” She sighed, handing you a ladle to mix the potion. “This is torture seeing you like this.” She said, smiling sympathetically as you nodded.

“I know, I know. I just, I can’t do anything about it Marls. He’s my best friend, he could never feel that way about me.” You explained, shaking your head as you moved back to continue adding to your potion.

“Sunny, Marlene.” Remus greeted, your heart fluttering at the nickname. Ever since he found out you were in Hufflepuff, he gave you the nickname if sunny. Not just for your yellow clothes, but for the sunshine you give off. “May I steal this one real quick?” He turned to Marlene, making her nod.

“She’s all yours.”

“What’s up?” You asked, following him over to where you needed to get more ingredients.

“Well, I know the Yule ball is coming up…” he said, earning a nod from you.

“It is? Do you need help asking someone?” You suggested, digging through the budget for some billywig stings.

“Actually, I was going to ask you.” You turned over to look at him so quickly, you almost spilled the whole jar.

“Really?”

“I know, I know, it’s not romantic. But, well, James is bringing Lily, and Sirius can’t decide between the three girls he’s taking. Even Peter is bringing someone. I don’t want to be alone.” He explained, making your heart drop slightly.

“So you want to take me, so you won’t be alone?”

“Exactly. Do you accept?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at you excitedly, making you nod.

“Of course I’ll go with you Remus.” You accepted, making Remus smile as you both began walking back to your tables. Marlene smirked at you, to which you waved her off, not feeling like getting into detail over the fact that you had just been ultimately friendzoned.

—☾

YOU HAD BEEN CASUALLY WALKING AROUND HOGWARTS, your books tightly held in your hands as you made your way to care for magical creatures. As your walk continued, you ran into none other than Gideon Prewitt, a wide smile in his face as he came up to you.

“Y/n, hey.” He greeted kindly, making you smile back at him.

“Gideon, hi how are you?” You asked, a slight flirtatious smirk adorning his face.

“I’m lovely, how are you?”

“Good, good. What can I do for you?” You asked. You seemed to have a confident walk to him, which made it nice to be around.

“Well, I understand the Yule ball is coming up.” He suggested, making you squeal slightly with excitement.

“Yes, I can’t wait. I just got my dress yesterday.” You cheered excitedly, making Gideon nod happily.

“Perfect. Just let me know what color, and we’ll be on our way.”

“Why do you need to know the color?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him as he chuckled nervously.

“I guess I should have started with this, Y/n L/n, you are the most beautiful girl at Hogwarts. I would be honored if you would attend the Yule ball with me.” He said, handing you a red rose he had been hiding behind his back.

You’d be lying if you said his words didn’t give you butterflies. You couldn’t help but blush at the compliment.

“Oh, Gideon that’s really sweet…”

“She’s going with me.” Remus growled lowly, interrupting you before you could finish, making you press your lips together nervously.

“Oh, Remus, I’m sorry dude. I thought you guys were just friends.” Gideon said, raising his hands defensively.

“We are, we’re going as friends.” Remus grumbled, making Gideon chuckle awkwardly.

“Oh, um. Okay. Well, Y/n, if you want to go with someone for real, my offer still stands.” He said with a wink, before turning and leaving towards the Gryffindor common room. Remus scoffed loudly, rolling his eyes as he began walking beside you.

“What’s with that guy huh?” He hissed, making you shrug.

“I don’t know, it was kinda sweet. He got me this rose and all.” You smelt the rose, a slight blush coming on your cheeks as you did.

“Are you seriously considering going with him? You already agreed to go with me.”

“Yeah as friends Remus. Maybe, I don’t know, maybe I want to have a romantic night with someone who wants to be there with me.” You explained, causing Remus to stop in his tracks, grabbing your shoulders so you’d look at him.

“I wanna be there with you.” He said, a slight frown on his face as he did.

“You know what I mean, Remus. Like, I don’t know, someone who likes me that way.”

“What, is he everything you ever wanted, y/n?” He asked bitterly, making your face twitch with anger. You pointed a finger at him, your face contorting with hurt.

“Remus, you’re being mean. Stop.” You spoke angrily, your voice breaking as you brows furrowed with hurt.

“This is bull shit.” He shouted, throwing his arms to his sides angrily.

“Remus!” You yelled, taken aback by his temper.

“No! You agreed to go with me, now, what, you change you’re mind cause Prewit gave you a rose?”

“Remus, I am so sick and tired of chasing after you! I’m not going with you for pity!” You shouted, now angry with the boy, catching him off guard.

“It’s not pity, it’s a school dance y/n!” He yelled in response, angry by your outburst.

“I don’t care! I have loved you, all my life.” You shouted, quieting down slightly, not expecting to have admired that, but not caring at the same time.

“What?”

“Remus, I’m so tired, okay? I can’t just keep waiting here for you, in the hopes that maybe one day you’ll like me back.” You pinched your forehead with frustration, ignoring the longing look Remus gave you.

“You like me?” He asked, making you scoff.

“Oh come on, it’s obvious is it not? Remus, I will always love, just, I can’t keep waiting for you. It breaks my heart.”

Before he could answer, you quickly ran forward, hoping to make it to class in enough time to take the spot next to Sirius so Remus couldn’t sit next to you today. Remus was left in shock. It may have been the first time since Remus started Hogwarts that he missed a class before a full moon.

—☾

“OH QUIT MOPPING MOONY.” Sirius teased, shoving Remus teasingly as the werewolf rolled his eyes. They were sitting at their table for the Yule ball which consisted of James Sirius, Sirius’ date of the hour, and Lily. Marlene and Dorcas had agreed to accompany you at your table, to not further strain the awkwardness of the situation. You did decide to go with Gideon, after the angry response you got from Remus, it was clear to you that you should go with who you wanted.

“Don’t tell me what to quit, padfoot. Does Amanda know she’s your fifth date tonight or did you want to let her find out on her own?” Remus hissed, raising an eyebrow at sirius, who’s eyes widened when his date, Amanda, slapped him over the head.

“You prick!” She shouted, storming away from the table, sirius chuckling angry as Remus smirked.

“Thanks for that.” He grumbled, choosing to put his anger aside when seeing the sad look on Remus’ face.

“I’ve ruined the one and only good thing in my life.” Remus mummbled, hiding his face in his hands. Sirius rolled his eyes, nudging him.

“Sitting right here Moony.” Sirius snarked, earning a shove back.

“Shut up.”

“Oh come on. It’s y/n, I mean, it’s your sunny! She can’t stay mad at you.” Sirius explained, causing Remus to shake his head.

“She loves me. I mean she really, loves me.” He said in disbelief, shaking his head as he sighed.

“And you don’t love her back?” James asked, his expression soft as he looked at Remus with concern.

“I mean, I don’t, I can’t right? I mean she’s my best friend. Anyone but her.” He explained, the other marauders sharing a smirk before turning back to Remus.

“I don’t know moons, love works in mysterious ways.” Sirius teased, making Remus roll his eyes again.

“Posh, what do you know about love.”

“Well, I know that you and y/n are meant for each other. Wether it be friends, or true love.” Sirius said, making Remus shrug.

“Yeah, whatever.” He mumbled, choosing to ignore Sirius’ comment and resting his chin against his palm angrily. He looks up to see you walking into the room, hand and hand with Gideon. A wide smile adorned your face as you smiled around at the decor around the room, making Remus smile.

“Wow.” Remus muttered, his eyes trained on you which caught the boy’s attention.

“She's so pretty.” Lily said, waving for you to come and sit over with them as she got up to greet you.

“Pretty? Are you kidding? She’s gorgeous.” He whispered to himself, causing Sirius and James to share a look.

“Someone’s gawking.” James teased. Remus gestured to where you stood, you face seemed to sparkle under the lights as you spoke to Lily.

“How can you not. I mean, wow. I’ve never seen sunny in red before.” He couldn’t help the way his heart picked up speed when you waved over to him.

“I guess red suits her in more ways than one.” Sirius mumbled, referring to the fact that Remus, the gryffindor boy, truly did belong with you. Remus didn’t hear him, having been making his way over to you the second he saw you wave.

“Sunny, hey.” He greeted, causing you to smile widely as you hugged him.

“Remus, hey.” You said in response. The second you pulled away you noticed a thick awkwardness that wafted between you two.

“You uh, you look great.” Remus complimented, making you smile, bowing slightly before turning to Gideon.

“Thanks. I’ll be right back Gideon, I’m gonna grab us some punch.” You explained, absentmindedly kissing Gideon on the cheek as you ran from the awkwardness. Remus would be lying if he said his heart didn’t ache at the sight.

“So what, you two are dating now?” Remus asked, watching you walk away as Gideon shrugged.

“I don’t know. I might go for it, I think she likes me.” He explained. Remus snorted, rolling his eyes. “What, you don’t think so?”

“No just, well, sunny could do a lot better than you.”

He wasn’t sure why he said it. Remus never had a problem with Gideon before, in fact he considered him a good friend. He had no idea why the thought of him with you made him so mad. Well he did, but remus decided to stay cluelessly angry with clenched fists instead of admit that.

“What, like you?”

“No, just, better.” Remus responded with a shrug, causing Gideon to sigh.

“Look, Remus, if you like her I can back down. You’ve had her longer than I have I wouldn’t step in the way of that?”

“Had her?” Remus asked, now looking at Gideon with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah well, I guess you’ve had claim on her for longer.”

“Claim? She’s not just something you can claim Prewitt, she’s a person!” He shouted.

“Calm down Remus, I just meant…” Gideon tried, holding his hand up with defense before Remus interrupted him.

“No!” He shouted, shoving Gideon back angrily. “She deserves better than you. She’s a human being, not just someone you can set your claim on like, like some kind of animal.” He shook his head, feeling anger consume him. It was strange, he had never felt this incredibly angry before unless a full moon was near, which hadn’t happened since last week, so that couldn’t be it. There was no one you could make him feel as powerfully as a full moon could, right?

“Oh come on now, we all know how it goes around here, right? You’d know better than anyone, what with Sirius being your friend and all.”

Remus felt as though Gideon had burned those words into his brain.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m sure you’ve all gone back and forth choosing who would get to have her.”

It didn’t take much more from Remus before he swung a punch right at Gideon, knocking him to the ground. He wasn’t sure what came over him, but Remus just started punching, and he didn’t stop. He choose to ignore Gideon’s pleas for him to stop, his anger taking over.

“Remus stop! Stop it now! Merlin’s beard, what is wrong with you guys!?” You shouted, quickly pulling Remus back. He wipped him nose, a punch Gideon had landed now causing it to gush blood as he grunted. Gideon was only able to land a few punched anyway, and Remus stood back trying to catch his breath.

“Nothing.” Remus grumbled, clenching his fists. He fought the urge to say something, before huffing as he walked outside the building.

“What the hell was that?” You asked, watching as Remus pulled a cigarette out of his back pocket, something he only did when he was angry.

“Nothing.” He hissed. You grabbed the cigarette from his mouth, putting it out which only made him angrier.

“Nothing??…nothing!?! Remus Lupin, explain yourself. Now!” You shouted. He huffed again, gesturing out at Gideon who was being checked out by Madam Ponfrey in the hall.

“Nothing happened alright? He pissed me off, so I hit him.”

“You can’t just lash out on people Remus. It’s, it’s not healthy for you.” You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “Merlin, you need to start taking care of yourself, and stop getting into these fights over, stupid things.” You explained. He didn’t say anything in response, just stared at you as you dug through your pocket for the disinfectant you always kept with you, for him.

“Do you really like him?” He mumbled, causing you to look up at him, your heart rate increasing.

“What?” Your voice cracked as you spoke.

“Gideon, do you like him?”

“I don’t see why that matters.” You replied shortly, causing him to sigh as he stared deeply into your eyes.

“Just tell me the truth.”

“I don’t know Remus, he makes me feel special. Like I’m important, like I matter.” You explained, meeting his eyes as you felt your cheeks heat up.

“And I don’t make you feel those things?”

“You’re the one that told me we were just friends, okay? You. I-I can’t keep liking you, and getting my heart broken.”

“No, no no no.” He muttered, shaking his head as you spoke.

“What do you mean no?” You hissed, now angry that he felt he had the right to keep pulling at your heart.

“I-i don’t know y/n. Something about seeing you tonight, with him…I don’t know I just felt, angry.” He explained, shaking his head at the ground as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“Because I was with Gideon?”

“Because you weren’t with me.” His voice broke as he spoke, though he spoke with such certainty you almost melted on the spot.

“But you…”

“I know what I said.” He stepped closer. “And I felt it, I did. I thought, anyone but you. I couldn’t love you , anyone but you. And then I saw you tonight, and I felt it.”

“You felt what?”

He smiled, stepping closer again, your faces as close as they could be before touching.

“Love. And not the kind that means I love you because your my friend, the kind that means I want to be with you forever. The kind that means in love.” He explained. He caressed your cheek with his hand, smiling as you looked at him with uncertainty.

“Remus..”

He didn’t let you finish, getting the reassurance he needed as soon as he heard his name, pulling you into a kiss. It was gentle, yet the most passionate kiss you’d ever experienced. You pulled away, smiling at him as he smiled back.

“Everything you’ve ever wanted?” He asked, making you chuckle, resting your forehead against his as you kissed him again quickly.

“You have no idea.”

#remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin headcanon #remus x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin imagine #marauders x reader #marauders imagine #marauders

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spacecowboyhotch · 5 months

Text

In Plain Sight, Ch 2: A Hoard of Cupids

summary: nathan’s much more insightful about you than he used to be. it’s making you uneasy…and curious.

pairing: nathan bateman x f!reader

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, enemies to lovers (sorta), boss/employee dynamics, pining, nathan trying to be nice but he’s so abrasive lol, pining, mentions of caretaking/sick family members, mentions of emotionally abusive parents, masturbation (m), sub!nathan if you squint

wc: 2,745

AN: back at it with part twoooo. thank you all for the kind words and support on this fic, i didn’t expect it to get the response it did but i’m really excited to give y’all the rest. fair warning that these chapters seem to be getting longer as i write on. happy reading!

in plain sight masterlist | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

Nathan gives you space— at first. When you return the next day at 7 a.m. sharp he’s nowhere to be found. Not in the living room or in the kitchen, not on his patio boxing. You assume he’s in his room, probably toying with one of his bots in a distasteful manner. The idea makes you shudder. But is it not easier to come to work with every task he could want you to do placed on his desk, no fuss?

You don’t like Nathan Bateman. He’s a pompous asshole, a know it all, a man who thinks only about his own desires. When he apologized— or rather attempted to— yesterday you thought that maybe you slipped and fallen down the stairs on your way out. By his standards, it was a top tier apology. You’d never once heard him apologize to anyone. On your drive home you had wondered if he had ever apologized in his life. The thought made you giggle, and then you’d turned up the music and forgotten about him until right now.

Sat at your desk, an ungodly stack of things to do. There’s a note sat on top. It’s simple and straightforward, lacking emotion but somehow still has your stomach flipping. It reads:

In meetings all day— let me know if you need anything. Go home early today.

Mr. Bateman

P.S. I’ll spruce up my apologizing skills.

You regard the note cautiously, raising your brow at it before you let yourself laugh a little. Was this a joke or had Nathan Bateman taken some criticism to heart (which is rumored to not exist). You fold the note up, and for some reason slip it into your bag.

The last thing that’s on your mind is that Nathan’s watching you. He sits in the dark at his monitors, leaning in closely. His eyes trace your figure on the screens intensely, watching as you read and read and read. He expects no reaction from you beside maybe throwing it in the trash. But then you laugh, and he watches you store it for safekeeping. A piece of him will go home with you. Nathan never thought he’d be jealous of a piece of paper, not when he seems to have the entire world at his fingertips.

—

He returns to his normal behavior after a week— partially because he thinks you settled in. And partially because…well he begrudgingly can admit to himself, in the comfort of his own mind, that he misses you. When you get to work the next Monday he’s sat on an observation table, examining what looks like a deconstructed robot brain.

You aren’t even able to open your mouth and say good morning before he’s talking to you.

“Are you sleeping okay?” He asks, his eyes appraising you intensely.

You stop in your tracks, regarding him as always, your expression pieced into that calm expression. So you’re back to normal, none of that fire. He expected it but that doesn’t keep him from feeling disappointed.

“Sir?”

“You look really fucking tired. Exhausted,” He tacts on for good measure.

Your spine goes completely rigid, your grip on your bag tightening. You are tired. So very tired. You work shitty hours for incredible money and then go home to take care of your younger sisters and mother. Dealing with Nathan is for them. For your sisters’ schooling, so they won’t feel left out when the other kids have the newest gadget or shoes. For your mother’s ever piling medical bills. It’s important that you don’t jeopardize something so precious.

“Is it affecting my work? Have I done something wrong?” You ask him softly.

“No— that’s not why I’m—“ He stutters before closing his mouth and starting anew. You’ve never seen him like this. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was flustered. But knowing Nathan, he’s just never asked a single employee he’s ever had if they’re alright. “I’m your boss, I worry about your well being. That’s what good bosses do.”

“Are you sure?” You ask evenly, eyes still trained on him.

“Am I—“ He stops, eyes wide for a fraction of a second before he bites away his smile. “Are you fucking with me?”

If he was looking at you so intentionally he would miss the way your mouth twitches. “I’m fine, Mr. Bateman. I have a lot of responsibilities, not only here but out there as well.”

“Out there?”

“The real world. Thank you for the concern, sir.”

For the second time, you’ve rendered Nathan speechless. That night he lays in bed thinking of you, like many nights prior. He turns your words over in his head time and time again. The real world. Do you think he doesn’t know what it’s like out there? He wonders how much research you’d done for the job. Nathan used his brain to get here, climbing and climbing. He hadn’t been born into this but his personality lent itself to such a conclusion. Nathan knows what his real world used to look like, though one day he hopes that any of his contraptions can help him forget. He wonders what your real world looks like.

There’s no ring on your finger, but you could have a partner. Kids? Another job? He pays you well enough for that to not be necessary. Maybe you volunteer at a puppy shelter. He could picture it. You in something other than your stuffy work clothes, a smile on your face as you drown in puppy breath and slobber.

He groans, rolling over in bed to plant his face deeply in the pillow. Maybe he can smother himself out of this. Thinking about puppies? He might as well be one, he’s practically lovesick if you have him thinking like this. When would he get used to feeling this way? His usual cynical thoughts feel like they’re being pillaged by a hoard of cupids.

He doesn’t even know if you feel the same. Being better for you is one thing, but what if there’s no payoff? What if he changes for you and you leave him high and dry? Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He feels the back of his neck sweating and sits up.

Nathan’s been down this road before, it’s brought him his fortune and an insane work ethic. It’s all brought him sorrow he’ll never be able to escape. Being with his parents feels like a fever dream sometimes and other times he feels 6 again, like he’s drowning in their expectations and insults, trying to measure up. He’d given up eventually, once he realized that they would never love him the way parents should. Why try to do anything anyone wanted but himself when they could still treat him poorly for it?

He’s the way he is from his own indoctrination. He doesn’t know where he would be if he hadn’t convinced himself that he was the only person that truly matters.

But, now there’s you. You, who looks so soft, you that scratches an itch he didn’t even realize he had. You, that he wants to goad and prod and poke until you unleash all of yourself on him. He closes his eyes and lays back, envisioning you right here with him. He feels insane, his heart— his mind, his dick— are taking him through a whirlwind of emotions right now.

He palms himself through his boxers, eyes squeezing shut tighter than before as he tries to narrate. He pictures you in one of his white shirts, it’s fabric nearly see-through with the way it clings to your breasts. He grasps his length through his boxers letting out a heaving sigh. Fuck he wishes this was you.

If there’s anything that Nathan knows how to do its not only being smartest but the most imaginative. He’s been daydreaming for as long as he can remember. Universes with better outcomes— having worth, or loving parents or anyone for that matter. Anyone to be on his side. He imagined codes and synthetic body parts that live and breathe in front of him. He can surely imagine you, breathy and horny in his bed, jerking him off. He doesn’t care if it’s fucked up, or inappropriate. He wants you, and maybe this is the only way he can have you. He slides his boxers down, finally done teasing himself. Licking his palm, he grabs his cock, starts stroking and succumbs to the thought of you.

Another moan bubbles out of his throat. He can see your nipples through his shirt when you straddle him like this. Your thighs are soft against his own and he would reach for your free hand, thread his fingers through your own. Your hands are smaller than his, smooth and supple. And god, you’re stroking him just the way he likes it, the soft wet sound making pleasure shoot through his groin.

You’d overstimulate him wouldn’t you? With that clever mouth barely pulling up a grin, eyes full of fire as you stroke him past the point of pleasure. Would you make him watch? See the way your hands would grow slick and shiny with his cum as you kept pumping and pumping, pushing him to another release. Covering you both in him, until you’re too needy to keep toying with him. Nathan cums just as he’s imagining the feeling of you dragging your bare pussy against his sensitive cock. He whines and keens off the bed, the high singing in his veins. He swears he can almost imagine the way you would moan.

His eyes open, the spell broken. He’s alone, covered in his own spend, chest heaving like he just ran a 10k. He avoids his reflection when he walks into the bathroom to clean up. His loneliness spikes again and he heads to the kitchen, reaching for the first bottle he can find.

—

“You’re late,” He says stiffly, crossing his arms as he watches you cross the space to sit at your desk.

The day after he’d gotten off thinking of you he’d had the slightest difficulty looking at you. It quickly faded, he was too greedy. Too needy, if he’s being honest. He can’t get enough, he doesn’t know if he could ever say it but you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

You’re openly frazzled; your shirt isn’t tucked in, your hair is a little more frizzy than usual and you look as tired as ever. He regrets his biting tone immediately.

Even as you explain you’re moving, setting your to-go mug on the desk, fetching your calendar, booting up your computer. “I know, I’m sorry, Mr. Bateman. My sisters were less than cooperative this morning.”

Nathan turns completely away from the bins he’s been searching through, raising a brow at you in surprise, “Your sisters?”

“Yes— one is 7 the other is 14. The little made getting out of the house…difficult,” You murmur distractedly, eyes trained on your screen.

“Isn’t that your parents’ fucking job?”

His question snaps you back to the present— you hadn’t shared nearly as much as you could’ve. But you’d gone into this job wanting to be nameless and faceless. Memorable only for the quality of the work you do.

You shake your head, daring a quick glance in his direction that you immediately regret when your eyes meet his.“I realized that I’ve shared far too much about my personal life. I should work, Mr. Bateman.”

Nathan immediately understands your deflecting. How many times has he been asked by reporters and interviewers where his family is? Enough times that he’s had his publicist strike the topic from the acceptable lists. That was about all he was good for anyway, Nathan says what he wants when he wants.

He goes back to the task at hand— though now with you here he doesn’t quite remember what that was. A part…some sort of part that he needed. Wires? Screws? A metal plate? He sighs in frustration and leaves without another word.

Your gaze is on the door as soon as it shuts, making sure he’s gone. The tears that you’ve been biting back fall and you bury your face in your hands. Your youngest sister had begged and pleaded for you to stay warm in bed with her this morning. With your mother so sick, you’ve practically raised her yourself these last few years. It makes her needy, which you understand. But what she doesn’t understand is how delicate the balance you found in caring for your entire family is. Middle sister lacks just as much understanding, with heaps of attitude. She doesn’t want to snuggle with you or with younger sister. Mediating this entire situation is what made you late.

It feels like you’re cracking under the pressure but that isn’t an option, is it? As if the universe wants to make it clear, your computer chimes. It’s Nathan, asking you to come to his office.

—

He’d meant to go clear his head in his office and come back to get whatever part he was in need of. But, when he sat in his chair he was met with the sight of you hunched over your desk, presumably crying by the way your shoulders jerked every once and a while.

He’s pinging you before he can think better of it. He watches you read his message. You’re such an anomaly— you sit up immediately, reaching for some tissues and cleaning yourself up as if nothing happened. You even check yourself in the reflection of your computer, fidgeting with your hair, tucking in your shirt once you stand. As soon as you start out of the office he turns off his monitors, not one to be caught snooping around though it’s right and was clear in the contract. Maybe you’ve forgotten. Perhaps you don’t think your anything worth watching…Nathan would like to change that assumption.

“You pinged me, sir?”

How would he play this? He couldn’t admit that he just watched you cry.

“Trying my hand at this apologizing shit again. I— Nathan Bateman— am sorry for being insensitive. Like I said last time, I don’t know your life or you. Alright, how was that?”

“I would say a solid, 5/10, which is a 50% improvement.”

“Fuck me, you’re a tough crowd. What am I docked for? You know I’m all about perfection.”

“There was a lack of originality. And you omitted your middle name.”

It takes everything in Nathan not to giggle. The way the words come out of your mouth are so funny… or maybe he’s just obsessed. It could be both. “My middle name is classified information.”

“Does Wikipedia know that?” You ask, tilting your head in that uncanny way.

Nathan can’t hold in his laugh this time, running a hand over his beard, “You’re funnier than you look.”

Your mouth twitches, and you give him the smallest nod, “Thank you, sir. Is that all?”

He pretends to think about it. “This apology is feeling pretty one-sided to me.”

“I accept your apology, Mr. Bateman, thank you.”

“Accept something else,” He proposes, going out on a limb. Suddenly your stare is too intense, the room is too hot and small. What the fuck is he doing?

“What’s that?” You ask, as soft and sweet as ever.

“Dinner. Tomorrow,” He says simply.

“With you?”

Nathan ignores the twinge in his heart— your tone barely changed. If he wasn’t with you every single day, studying you, he wouldn’t even have noticed.

“I can invite the droids if you want. They’ll just stare at us while we eat.”

Your hand tightens around your planner. Dinner with Nathan…choosing to be around him? It seemed like as of late he was trying to be…more palatable. This could be an act of good faith. But, you have your sisters and mother to think about. You’ve given her nurse enough overtime hours in the last few weeks.

“Without getting too personal, I don’t think I’ll be able to swing it sir, I have to get home to my sisters as soon as possible.”

Yes, your family, that you never talk about. He could accommodate, what’s he the fucking boss for if he can’t?

“We’ll do it early.”

You sway a little as you think about this— that’s new, he thinks to himself, filing that information away for later.

“You’ve already got me apologizing, I can’t add saying please to the list of acceptable behaviors. I’ll lose my fucking edge.”

“How early?”

“3:30.”

“Alright, then, sir.”

nathan taglist: @missdictatorme, @hon3yboy, @runa-falls, @campingwiththecharmings, @toracainz, @steven-grants-world, @clemdango04, @jdbxws, @crispysublimecupcake, @sub-aro, @faretheeoscar, @cupidysm, @whentheskyispinkandabitblue , @nova-ivy541, @sparkypantelones, @veritable-trash, @mangoslushcrush, @kotaropuppy

#nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman x f!reader #nathan bateman x fem!reader #nathan bateman #nathan bateman fanfiction #ex machina fanfiction #in plain sight #arson writes #not sfw

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aheathen-conceivably · 2 months

Text

🎶 I gave him my heart, but he wanted my soul 🎶

It was just after sunrise and Josephine was in the kitchen, a sunbeam warming her hands as they worked. She had woken early to take care of the chickens. Their tiny, prehistoric beaks and beady eyes still repulsed her, but at least it was easier than tilling soil or scrubbing clothes.

Over and over again she folded the dough that Zelda had taught her how to make. A perfectly baked loaf already sat before her as she worked on another. My mother’s recipe, Zelda had said nostalgically as she recited it from the depths of her memory. These years with Zelda had been full of moments like that, ones where you could practically feel the domestic warmth radiating from her memories as she spoke of them.

A small, bitter laugh escaped Jo's lips. For all she may still love her mother, the closest thing Delphine ever had to a recipe was how to bat your eyelashes to earn enough money to pay someone else to make your bread. Josephine had thought that if only she could learn how to make it herself now, that she would finally be free of that, of her mother’s overbearing jasmine perfume and the inherent message that the only way to free yourself from a man’s grasp was through his touch.

Jo was taken aback by a pair of arms as they wrapped around her waist. Lost in the smell of jasmine perfume, she didn’t recognize them at first. She left her hands busy on the dough as she felt the lips trail over her silk blouse, along her neck, and to the base of her skull. He brought his cheek to hers and she tried not to pull away.

By then she knew who he was, not some figment of her past or her mother’s design. He was a man she loved, one who had made her feel more free than anyone else ever had. One who’s arms felt safer and happier than any of those memories. Only she hated the scruffy feeling of his face now, unshaven as it was most of the time and plastered with an expression that seemed to trigger all her anxiety for a reason she couldn't quite explain. “Good morning, mi raccomando. Is that what I think it is?"

“Bread, Gio. The same as always.” But really, she wanted to pick it up and throw it across the room, I did it! I fucking did it just like I told you I would. I tried and tried until I succeeded and still I’m unhappy. Still I feel trapped!

She spun around to face him and his eyes had the same expression as the first time she walked in this house. Happiness. It was the one that she avoided when she could, the same one that made her feel like her feet were glued to the spot and she had no choice whether she wanted to stay or leave.

Because it was sheer happiness that she was there; that he could wake and find her so near. A simple joy that the bread she was making was for him, and he would wake up to a house warmed and filled with the smells of clean laundry before he even put on his work clothes. Then in the farmyard it was knowing that he could come inside to see the woman he loved whenever he pleased, that she was there for him and only him.

It made her want to slap him, and she only knew one way of dealing with that.

So she moved back toward the table, wrapping her arm around his neck in a signal he understood immediately. He lifted her legs and moved the bread aside, small specks of flour rising into the air and staying suspended there for a moment, settling back down around her thighs as he started to kiss her.

She could swear that she smelled jasmine perfume in the air, but it was only bread. The ever present smell of bread and domestic subservience. Stop thinking about the fucking bread. Don’t think about the truck in the driveway, or how deeply he sleeps. Don’t think about how far you could drive before anyone would even know you were gone. Just run. Run away.

Only it wasn’t working, no matter how tightly she closed her eyes or grabbed his hair. Just run. You’re trapped here too. The same way you were there. With every thought the raging restlessness clawed its way back up her throat, mingling there with the bitter taste that this was her life now.

For so long, this had been enough, and the smell of jasmine perfume in the air was gone when he was near. At least for a little while. Only then it appeared again, whenever the chickens screeched at sunrise or she saw that look in his eyes. So what do you want to be then, my child? Some glorified maid for a man? Like that’s any life either.

When had she said yes to this life? She had denied his proposals a dozen times, only to end up here at his beck and call anyway, a farm wife in practice if not in name. Forever, mi raccomando. This is forever. The louder her thoughts became the more tightly she closed her eyes, only it wasn’t working anymore. Not at all. Her last bastion of control, the one place she could free herself from her past and her anxieties, now it all just smelled like jasmine perfume and some man she had never wanted, bringing with him the feeling of entrapment in the guise of freedom.

Josephine pushed him away with more force than she intended to. Her eyes were full of hatred for someone else’s touch, one far less kind and attentive than this one. The moment the smell of jasmine cleared from her head, she realized who was actually in front of her: a man who immediately saw the discomfort his hands were bringing and stepped back accordingly, giving her space to gather herself and her surroundings. Then he kept his head bowed and looked back at her in apology, no stranger to when she reacted this way or why that was.

Only it was easier for him to think that was the extent of it, because neither of them really understood that the smell of jasmine perfume and fresh bread were all the same to her, and that sooner or later the heady scent in the air would make her snap regardless of which one it was. “Not - not now. That’s all it is. I’m tired. The chickens woke me again.”

He seemed to sense there was something beyond what he already knew; but her eyes stayed glassy, focused on locking away every thought she had so deeply that even if he wanted to see her unhappiness, she wouldn’t let him. When he brought his hands to her shoulders she was sure not to pull away again. “Okay, mi raccomando. I love you. I’m right outside if you need me.”

As he looked back at her, there was a small beat. A brief pregnant moment he left just for her. I love you too, but I’m unhappy. Maybe saying it would have been easy, but it was pointless.

Antoine, Zelda, Violette. Gio. Each and every one of them was happy. What good would her words do? Ruin everyone else’s small sanctuary amidst a world in ruins? Force them to overturn their peace for an aimless restlessness she couldn't really explain, and maybe could never even mend? No, they were happy. All of them, and Gio had seemingly done nothing to deserve this.

It was simply easier to think that the problem was her, and her alone. Maybe her mother had broken her, and ruined her ability to let herself go to anyone else's desires. Maybe this was being happy, and her whole life all she had known before was excitement, not happiness. She couldn’t ruin it for all of them when she couldn’t even explain it, much less when none of them could be blamed either. She was trapped by guilt and love all the same as she had been by duty and need.

So she turned back around and acted as though she were redirecting her attention to the bread. The bitterness in her throat and the rising smell of jasmine in the air tried to choke back her words, “I love you too, Gio.”

Mollified, he walked back out the door.

#1933 #sims 4 historical #ts4 decades challenge #ts4 historical #sims 4 decades challenge #the darlingtons #sims 4 legacy #ts4 legacy #sims 4 story #ts4 story #1930s #Josephine Duplanchier #Giorgio Mistretta

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thefishermansharbor · 1 year

Text

The main 6 as parents!

The arcana x GN!Reader (TW: Mentions of pregnancy, reader is GN but hinted at being pregnant in Asra's chapter, light cursing.)

Asra Alnazar:

Again, someone who prefers adoption. A lot like Muriel, his past trauma of being an orphan on their own in aplace as dangerous as the Vesuvian docks made him want to be an open and safe place for children.

If you do get pregnant though, he turns to his mother. She’s experienced it - she might know what to do to in order for him to make it easier for you. He’ll research spells to lessen pain and morning sickness, and stuff like that.

He would love to give them a name dedicated to your love - for example, a combination of your names, or he might name them after some place special to the two of you.

Asra is a pretty chill parent. He’s not too bothered about what they do, as long as it’s safe and makes them happy. If they do get in trouble, he’ll use non-violent and pretty lenient punishments. Ex : Taking a toy away for a few hours, making them sit in time-out, etc.

He wants his kids to be free - spirited and do what makes them happy. Even if this makes his kids go for what might not be the safest option, he just wants them to feel empowered.

As a new parent, one can’t help but feel scrambled. Asra is no exception. Dealing with a newborn baby is not for the worried - or faint of heart. It’s especially not for those who don’t do well with little sleep.

This is what led him to his parents. He knocked on their door, hoping they’d come quickly. He didn’t know how much longer of his son’s screaming he could take. His mother opened the door, surprised.

“ .. who could it be at this hour.. Asra?” Aisha rubbed at her eyes, trying to rub the sleep away. “ .. what are you doing here, baby? Come in,”

He sighed, “ Sorry to bother you, mom.” She ushered him inside, “ It’s alright, hunny.” It took her a minute to register everything, she noticed the baby only once he’d gotten inside.

“ .. How’s ___? Are they keeping alright? How’s–” The realization hit her like a truck. “ oh my god! Did they go into– is that..?” He nods, and she bursts into tears.

“ Oh, Asra! You’re a father, you’re.. I’M a grandma! Before he could blink, Aisha wipes her tears. “ What’s it’s name?”

“ His name is Jordan, mom. He’s– a week old,”

“ why didn’t you tell me sooner, Asra?” She sighed.

“ I’ve been meaning to but things had come up and – well, I need your help.” Asra scratched the back of his neck.

“ Of course! What is it?”

“ .. how do you make a baby stop crying? I’ve tried everything.”

She laughs. “ give him to me.”

Asra hands her the baby, and as if it’s magic – Jordan stops crying full stop. He actually goes to sleep in Aisha’s arms.

“ H-how’d you do that?” Asra’s face with a mix of impression and surprise.

“ .. Grandma magic, hunny.” She winked,

Lucio Morgasson:

He has it rooted in his mind that children have to be biological to be the perfect ‘heir’ to Vesuvia. He’d push for it to be that way – but if you really wanted to adopt, he’d be just as an enthusiastic parent no matter what.

Lucio wants a larger family but to be honest, he wouldn’t be able to handle more than one kid.

If you adopt, he’s fine with adopting any age. If you get pregnant, he’d only give the best for you. He always has the finest made for you, but even more so. Although he, personally, isn’t much help - the castle staff are on higher guard and listen to you much more.

He’s totally a girl dad. His daughter wants him to wear a tutu and tiara? Goddamnit, he’s wearing one.

He’s a fun parent but he does what he wants - and his kids follow that. He doesn’t feel the need to be patient, or act in benefit of his kids. He’s really chaotic, and doesn’t recognize that he should be nurturing his kids, not partying with them.

“ Daddy! Daddy!” Lily shouts, grabbing his pant leg. He looks down, and smiles. “ There she is! What is it, silly-lily?” He tickles her face, and she giggles.

“ Auntie Nadi taught me how to paint my nails!” She confidently shows off some poorly done pink nail polish. He does a mock gasp and claps, “ they look amazing! Anyways, you were saying..”

“ Can I paint your nails, daddy? Pretty please?” She gives him those puppy dog eyes he can never say no to. He wasn’t too bothered about going to the event on Vesuvian finances, spending time with his daughter sounded a lot more fun.

“ Sure.”

That’s was all he needed to say. She flipped open a bag, and took several colors out. “ Which one do you want, daddy?” He surveys them, and chooses a deep blood red.

She paints carefully.. But a 6 year old can only paint so well. It’s messy, but she tried her best. Even though it’s messy, Lucio seems pretty happy with it. Valerius passes by, and notices it.

“ My count.. What are you doing?”

“ Getting my nails painted, obviously.”

Valerius rubbed his temples, “ My count, you cannot be serious. No one will take you seriously with that mess on your hands..”

Lucio furrows his brow. “ How dare you suggest that this is anything other than pure artwork!? I look absolutely FABULOUS. You are just too incompetent to recognize this pure beauty!” He winks at his daughter, who’s staring at him in awe. Valerius walks off, too tired to deal with Lucio.

Julian Devorak:

He personally would like to have biological kids. There’s really no reason for it, he just wants it and knows, being a doctor, that he can handle a pregnant partner well. He’d also want to have multiple kids, because his relationship with Portia is really good and he’d want his kids to have that experience too.

If you prefer to adopt, he would try and convince you to have biological children, but if you really didn’t, he wouldn’t keep pushing it.

He’d want to name one after Portia. She was what kept him alive at one point, and he knows that she’s special and deserves it - so as long as you’re fine with it, he wants that to happen.

He would be the authority parent. Definitely the “ just wait until your father gets home,” and he’s fine with that. He’s a very tactile parent otherwise, and is very sweet with his children.

Once they get to be older, he does try and embarrass them a bit. But it’s all in good fun and he doesn’t mean to really offend them.

He sighs, happy the long day of work is over for him. He jingles his keys in the door and walks through the entryway of your shared home. “ I’m home!” He shouts.

Two little kids come instantly running in from the living room. A little girl with bouncy brown curls hugs his leg, and a slightly older boy runs right up in front of him.

“ papa! You’re back!” The girl says, the boy nods. “ You’ll never guess what we did today!”

“ oh, really?” He says, taking his coat off. You walk through afterwards, sighing and smiling at the two of them.

“ Pasha, Ivan! Let your father get in the door.”

“ but ___! He’s been gone for agesss…” Ivan complains, “ yeah! And we have so much to tell him!” Pasha chimes in. Julian ruffles Ivan’s hair, and then tickles Pasha’s chin. “ It’s alright, dear. I love the attention,” You roll your eyes, leaning on the doorway. He walks over and kisses you on the cheek, before his hands travel to your back and he kisses you on the lips.

Your daughter looks away in horror, and your son boos. “ Ew, you guys! Stop, that’s nasty!”

Julian chuckles and steps back, you put your head on his shoulder.

“ – well, tell me about your day then, kids.”

He ushers them both into the next room, and you can’t help but smile and get that warm and safe feeling in your heart. You love them.

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