#truly part of it is that father/daughter stuff just Gets to me

[fuckdamn]

slightly drunk but i’m sitting here thinking about jane margolis and like actually actively sobbing. i’m so sad she died what the fuck. her dad was a hardass and probably not someone i’d like very much irl but he also clearly loved her very very profoundly and if he didn’t like that he couldn’t always understand her lifestyle and choices and motives it wasn’t out of disgust or whatever it was because he was scared that if he couldn’t understand her then he couldn’t help her. is that fair to her?? no. and in the end he couldn’t save her because you can’t really save someone from themselves but how can that fact be any consolation when its your own child?? AND how can jane deal with being treated like a problem without internalizing that he thinks she’s a problem?? there’s no good answers there’s no right answers there’s only love that’s there despite everything and care and tenderness and the art that jane left behind and her room exactly how she left it like she could come back at any second but she CAN’T because don WATCHED them zip his lifeless daughter into a body bag and cart her off. that’s it. their last confrontation was a fight and the last time he saw her she was crying and she deserved better and she should have had more time and that’s all you can really say!! and don and jesse will have to carry on under the weight of not only crushing grief but crushing guilt (while the man who could have literally physically saved her will continue to justify his failure to act through increasingly twisted rationale). jane was edgy and snarky and ostensibly kept most people at arm’s length but she was vulnerable just beneath the surface and she was dry and funny and smart and self-possessed and creative and she made beautiful things and saw beauty in things and she was kind enough to give jesse a chance when nobody else would and making impulsive mistakes during a relapse doesn’t make her some kind of evil temptress who was in it for the money all along and the fact that i’ve seen so many dudebro takes that imply just that makes me want to scream. she was only in like half a season but to me she is utterly indelible i love you jane i hope you are painting sick ouroboros murals in the afterlife

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 11: Exhibitionism/Voyeurism - Winter Soldier

Summary: Home alone, you think it's safe to have some 'special time', but unbeknown to you, he's there, always watching and admiring.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dubious content, stalker!winter soldier, masturbation, sex toys, loneliness, exhibitionism, voyeurism

masterlist 📚 

kinktober masterlist😈 

AO3 Link 

Being the adoptive daughter of the infamous Alexander Pierce wasn’t always as exciting and full of potential danger as you’d expect. For the most part, you are confined to your heavily guarded home 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Despite being an adult and wanting to live your own life, your father deemed it too dangerous that you could be captured and used for ransom.

Throughout your life, you’d never even seen one second of action or risk, and some would say that just means your father has protected you to the best of his abilities. There is a point, however, where you need something exciting in your life even though there are only limited ways to get any thrill.

This usually occurred when you were home alone, like tonight. Bored out of your mind whilst watching the TV attached to the wall in the living room, your dad walked past, clicking a button on his phone before tying his show lace. Glancing at the time on your phone, you assumed he was going to work, considering it was so late; you knew better than to ask him what was wrong to demand his time.

Walking over, your dad briefly paused to lean down and kiss your forehead, pretending he cared, but there was nothing Alexander Pierce truly loved more than Hydra. He didn’t even need to say that he was leaving as your dad prepared to leave, assuming you had caught on to his gathering of stuff that he would be going, but before he could step out of the door, you shouted in his direction, “Am I expecting company tonight?”

Your Dad knew who you were referring to. The Winter Soldier. The assassin whom you’d met on numerous occasions tended to turn up unannounced to your home in search of your father to debrief or receive new orders, so you made sure to ask regarding his whereabouts so that you could be prepared for a midnight visit.

“No, he’s a couple of states away on a mission and not due to be back for another few days. I’ll lock up on my way out; don’t wait up for me”. Without another look or even an ‘I love you’, Alexander Pierce left out of the front door, and the sound of the shutters around the windows started to descend, and the thick locks on all doors clicked into place.

You were locked in, and as soon as the metal stopped creaking and you knew your dad’s car had driven off, you sighed in sweet relief at finally being home alone. It was almost like an automatic reaction for your body to become horny as soon as you were locked in, knowing that no one would interrupt and you had free reign to do whatever you pleased, which would always be masturbation.

Turning up the TV loud so you could hear it from your bedroom and not feel as alone, you changed your clothing to just an oversized shirt and nothing more, selecting which vibrator you wanted from the box beneath your bed. Today was going to be the purple bullet vibrator and then returned to the living room.

This was one of the only places where you could feel any sort of rebellion or thrill. Yes, you could and do masturbate in your bedroom just like anyone else would, but being able to do it in technically a public space gave you little bursts of adrenaline. If your father returned home, you’d be able to hear the security system unlocking, but it was also an area that was supposed to be where everyone gathered and had family time. This didn’t refer to your home, though, as you were the only person to use the living area as your father was either in his office, the gym or not home at all.

Lying down on the soft couch, your head nestling into the decorative pillow, you tried to focus your mind into the horny zone. The excitement you anticipated hit you in your gut as you lifted your shirt until it rested over your collarbones to reveal your nude body.

As the chilled breeze ghosted over your skin, it caused a ripple effect of goosebumps to shiver over you, nipples hardening, which sparked pleasure to build in your abdomen and moisture to slick at your entrance. Closing your eyes, your fingers teased over your breasts, imagining they were someone else's hands, exploring the fresh and finding where you were most sensitive.

Pinching your nipples gently, you released a soft sigh as another hand drifted down to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Biting your lip, your knees separated to allow your fingers to collect some of the juices that had leaked from your hole and then spread it over your clit, massaging the bundle of nerves in circles.

You were entirely in the zone, feeling increasingly more aroused with breathy moans and whimpers escaping your open mouth each second. This was your favourite place to be, hot and bothered, getting yourself off to feel your cunt pulsing around two of your fingers.

Then you were pressing the vibrator against your clit with two fingers delved into your warmth, curling and pressing on the spot that had your back arching and breaths hitching.

Everything was building, like an orchestra reaching its crescendo, approaching the peak of no return and complete euphoria. Then, the sensation rushed over you. Not the pleasant orgasmic blissful shiver but a haunting, the hairs standing on end over your arms and the back of your neck with unease. It felt like someone was watching you, but that wasn’t the case; the building was locked down, and the security cameras didn't point in this direction.

Your eyes opened on instinct, and fear, horror and dread pulsed through your stomach as you screamed, closing your legs and rushing to stand and cover your body with your shirt. Your knees buckled from the lasting effects of getting yourself off, but you clung to the arm of the couch whilst trying to turn off the vibrator.

It felt like your heart had moved to your throat, with the fear of throwing up and passing out at the same time taking over as you stared unblinking at the man currently sitting in the armchair next to the couch you’d been masturbating on. He was sitting as still as a statute, head to toe, in his tactical gear, even the mask.

“Soldier?” your voice reverberates off the walls you’ve shouted that loud. All it earned you was a tilt of his head to the side, but he didn’t say a single word, so you continued to shout, even though you knew you should have remained calm around someone as dangerous as him. “What the fuck are you doing here? You should have knocked or- something! How did you even get in here?!”

He simply sat there, staring at you with deep blue eyes, his long hair framing his face, his deadly hands resting on the arms of the chair, acting casually like he hadn’t just been sitting there as you feverishly masturbated naked in front of him. The more time passed, the worse your tremors became, almost like you were vibrating with anxiety.

It wasn’t uncommon for the Winter Soldier to not knock when he came to the house however usually your father was present or he’d been anticipated but for him to somehow get in when the house was on lockdown and not be expected, it had you on edge.

“Why didn’t you announce yourself, Soldier?” you tried to sound confident and not fearful, but your voice cracked on the last word, which gave away your anxiety. Your thoughts were going around and around in your head; how long had he been there? How did you not even hear him walking into the room?

The Assets head tilted to the other right, his eyes remaining focused only on your face as he finally began to talk in his low, drawled voice, “Why did you stop?”

Your eyes widened in shock briefly before trying to regain control, “What did you say?”

“You don’t usually stop. Why did you stop now?”

Your heart seemed to stop at this question. Swallowing the thick glob of spit in your mouth, you asked, “What do you mean usually? Have... have you seen me doing this before?”

He nods slowly, and you want to vomit immediately. Closing your eyes briefly, you tried to take a deep breath, hoping it would give you some composure. Maybe this was karma working her evil magic on you, you had decided, for having a kink with being caught, which is why you masturbated in the living room. Why on earth were you now upset when you’d actually been caught?

Sighing and rubbing both hands over your face, ignoring that they were still slightly wet from earlier, you tried to explain to the assassin, “You know, it’s not normal to watch people during intimate times like this. You’re supposed to announce yourself or something”.

“But you look at peace when you do it”, he says in the same emotionless voice. His words catch you off guard, but he continues, “You didn’t finish today like you usually do”.

The way he spoke about what you were doing, you weren’t even sure he knew what it was or the consequences of your actions. You knew his history, who he was and how they controlled him. Did he even know what sex was with all the times his mind had been wiped? He wasn’t acting like a creep, even if he had snuck in to watch you masturbate and clearly had watched it several times before. If he was going to hurt you, he would have done so by now, so tentatively, you sat back onto the couch, still pulling the bottom of your shirt lower over your legs and hiding the vibrator beneath your thigh.

“I didn’t finish like the other times because I didn’t know you were watching; it can make people uncomfortable knowing someone is watching them”.

“Does it make you uncomfortable that you know I’m watching?” his tone lowered with the question he was asking.

“Yes! I don’t want people to watch me do this, and what if my Dad finds out? What if you tell him what I’ve been doing?”

Bucky finally showed some emotion as he frowned in confusion, “Why would I tell your father about this? It has nothing to do with the mission? I like watching you because you seem to enjoy it; isn’t that a good thing?”

He seemed so innocent in his questioning. “Just so I’m getting this right, are you expecting me to continue?” The soldier nods yes in an answer as you release a long breath. “If I say no, will you kill me?” This time, he shakes his head, giving you the answer no, which did little to alleviate the nerves catapulting through you.

Standing up from the couch whilst clutching the vibrator, you rushed towards your bedroom, intending to hide the sex toy and lock yourself in so that you didn’t have to sit looking at the soldier anymore. However, as you stood before the door, you thought it over more. If he’d been watching you all of this time, then what’s the difference with him being here now? He could overpower you any time he wanted, and he didn't want any pleasure back; otherwise, he would have made advances before.

This whole situation came about because you liked the thought of being watched or caught, so why were you running away from that scenario? Having made up your mind, you returned to the living room, where the Soldier hadn’t moved even a strand of hair since you’d left in a hurry.

Sitting back on the couch, your eyes remained everywhere but on him. In fact, as you led back down, you closed your eyes with the hopes that not being able to see him would help to calm the pounding of your nervous heart.

Your nipples were still hard, so you pressed on them through your shirt with trembling fingers, not quite believing you were in this situation. The wetness from your earlier escapades was still evident over your thighs, which you sept firmly closed. Biting your lower lip until it hurt, you kept stimulating your nipples by rubbing the peaks around in circles before pinching them to elicit more of a reaction between your legs.

It worked after a couple of minutes as your muscles lost the tension and melted into the cushions further. Eventually, your thighs were spreading as you tried to only think about that orgasm that had been so very close to pleasuring your body but had quickly disappeared from the soldier's appearance.

With your legs now parted and cunt on full displaying, facing the Asset at the end of the couch, you turned the vibrator on, deciding to go straight for the toy this time rather than playing around first. Pressing the device just above your clit, you released a breathy moan, thighs shaking with the increased delight.

This time, your body heated to the point of sweat, and your face hot to the touch because no matter how much you tried to think of anything else, it always came back to the man sitting near you. With your hips jolting and rolling to push against the vibrator, your fingers moved the shirt further up your stomach, revealing your navel and breasts so you could rub and play with them without restriction.

Then, to both your horror and delight, the Winter Solider flashed into your mind, but this time, it was him hovering above you, using his gloved hands to press against your nipples. Your moans increased in volume, back arching with this thought as you begged your mind to continue this naughty thought.

Releasing your breast, your hand trailed down your body, tickling the delicate skin before dipping past your clit and two fingers into your drenched cunt. You were sure he had thicker fingers than you, but the thought of him between your legs, curling them right into that beautiful spot, his other hand holding the vibrator to your clit, had you whithering around on the couch.

Your pussy clenched harshly around your fingers, trying to draw them deeper, needing their fullness. You weren’t sure when it was, but at some point, your eyes opened so that you could look directly at the man in question, who still had failed to move from his seat in the armchair. You weren’t looking at his body thought; you were looking at those sparking blue eyes partially hidden beneath his hair as they continued to look at just your face like he only wanted to see the pleasure you displayed rather than just touching yourself.

“Oh god”, you groan aloud to these thoughts, legs spreading further open and half-flopping off the couch as you curl your fingers faster and harder. You wished it was his fingers touching you, getting you off and bringing you close to the point of orgasming. The vibrator stroked back and forth against your throbbing clit, and that was all the additional stimulation you needed to reach your peak.

Your eyes finally closed once more as you came hard, body shaking and curling in on yourself with each pulse of your pussy around your fingers. You hadn’t orgasmed that hard in months, so it took you a couple of minutes to try and catch your breath and come out of the buzzing created by the euphoria. 

Now what? You thought whilst turning off the vibrator entirely and leaving the two of you in complete silence. The assassins still hadn’t moved, and for a brief second, you thought of his arousal. Could he even be turned on? Was that a function the scientists allowed him to keep while brainwashed? Was he watching you enough to turn him on?

The thought was swiftly pushed out of your mind as you realised he was the fucking Winter Soldier, the highest-trained assassin who was also 70+ years old; this was probably last on his list of things to be worried about. Sitting up whilst covering your body with your t-shirt once more, you struggled to think what to say or do.

“Do you want me to call my Dad to tell him you’re here for a debrief?” From the corner of your eye, the Asset nodded. You stood to take the call in your bedroom, but as you stood, your eyes briefly looked at him more clearly and noticed that he very evidently had an erection with the way his tactical gear was tented at the crotch. For some reason, this made you feel relieved that he had been turned on by what you saw, and it wasn’t just a one-way situation.

Standing and walking into your bedroom, you collapsed onto the bed with your phone raised to your ear.

Your dad answered immediately with a stern tone, “Yes?”

“Uh hey, Dad, just to let you know, the Soldier’s here”.

“What?” came Alexander Pierces’ concerned voice through the mobile.

“Yeah, he just turned up a couple of minutes ago in the living room”.

“Well, tell him to get back to the compound. I won’t be home tonight, so he needs to come here”.

Finishing the conversation with him, you stood to tell the Soldier his orders but found him nowhere in the building, not in the living room, kitchen or even by the front door. He had simply vanished, and what's more, the alarm was still in place, which meant he had a way of getting in and out of your home without triggering the alarm, which you were sure if it terrified or excited you.

[miniwheat77]

Smash pt 2. (dbf!Price X Reader.)

!hefty age gap, daddy kink, mentions of violence, smut, THIS IS FILTHY AGE GAP SMUT YOU’VE BEEN WARNED!

John rubs his eyes as he wakes up. His phone is ringing and he wants to answer it before it wakes you.

He sits up and grasps the phone, silencing it and walking out of the room before answering it. He regrets not taking a look at who’s calling this early. “Hello?” John asks into the phone.

“John.”

John sighs as soon as he hears his voice come over the phone. “We need to talk about this John. I just got a call from a buddy of mine saying that he saw you with Y/N buying groceries. How long is this going to last?”

John shakes his head. “That’s none of your business.”

“My daughter is my business.”

“Hardly, you treat her like rubbish.” He scoffs. He’s trying to talk low so that he doesn’t wake you. He can hear your dad sigh on the other end of the phone. “Listen. If you part ways with her right now, never speak with her again. I can let this go. We can continue to be good friends John. I can forgive you.” John shakes his head. He can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“Your daughter needs someone to guide her. Someone who won’t treat her like she’s nothing. She needs support. She needs a fucking father. Who chooses her over his wife. Who puts her first. Who gives a shit.”

“And what, you want that to be you?”

“Course not, I love Y/N. The more she talks about you and everything you’ve done to her, the more I hate you. I mean really. You’ve always put Y/N last and truly, it disgusts me. You’ve messed up with this one but I’m going to pick up the pieces and help her heal. Until you’re ready to apologize to Y/N for all you’ve done and want to be a better father to her, don’t call again.”

A ‘beep’ is all your dad hears on the other end of the line.

John sighs.

He needs to wake up. He makes his way into the kitchen for coffee.

Once you smell it, you start to stir in your sleep. Feeling the bed empty makes you sigh. You didn’t like waking up alone. Maybe choosing a military man who wakes up so early didn’t help with that. But because of who he was and what he meant to you. You’d deal with it.

You sit up, wincing as your feet hit the cold hard wood floor. Standing up. You make your way out of the room and down the hallway to the kitchen. “Morning darling.” John smiles. “Morning.” You smile. Picking up the coffee pot and pouring yourself a cup of coffee. You make your way over to him, sitting across the table from him. “Something wrong?” You ask. “Uh.. well.” He sighs. “Your dad called me this morning.” He mumbles. “Oh boy. What did he have to say?” You ask, sitting up more. “Just.. a bunch of bullshit. How if I get away from you right now he’ll forgive me. Bunch of rubbish.” He rolls his eyes. He sees you smile. “Got quite a way with words, does he?” You giggle. He shakes his head. “God no.”

“Best thing about that man is his daughter.” He winks at you. Seeing your cheeks warm up. “I know right. I’m pretty great.” You sip your coffee. It’s still too hot to drink. “Was thinking we could go to the mall today.” He says. You tilt your head. “Hm? Why?”

“Get you something nice.” He shrugs. You laugh. “No John. Quit trying to spend all your money on me.” You roll your eyes. He stands up, making his way round the table. Sliding your chair out slightly. “Ah cmon darling. Maybe we can find you something pretty to wear tonight. Something we’ll both like ah?” He bites at his lip. “That’s the real reason you wanna go hm?” You laugh. “Well. You already call me daddy. Might as well give you the sugar part too, right?” You roll your eyes. “You’re not my sugar daddy John. You’re my boyfriend.” You scoff. He tilts his head, gliding his tongue over his teeth. “Boyfriend huh? I like that. Makes me feel not so old.” He laughs. “Cmon though. I can look for some stuff, you can look for some stuff. We can look for some stuff together. It’ll be a date.” He smiles. “Alright alright. Let me get dressed.” You laugh.

———

Your eyes scan the whole wall of fragrances.

“Oh dear.” John mumbles. You can’t help but laugh at his apprehension.

“You got 4. It’s buy 3, get 3 free. So I can find 2.” You smile. “Right. Right. But if you want more than that, I’ll buy you 3 more.” He laughs. “No. 2 is good. I can get a spray and a lotion.

You spray one on a fragrance tester card. “What about this one?” You ask. He leans into it, taking a sniff. His nose crinkles up. “Bloody hell. What is that?” He pulls away like his nose has just been assaulted. You roll your eyes. “So dramatic John.” You laugh.

After looking across a few more, you find one you really like. “What about this one?” You decide to spray it on your wrist and let it soak into your skin for a second before letting him smell it.

He nods his head. “Like that one.” He smiles. “Perfect. Now let’s go, this store is giving me a headache.” You murmur. Going up to the front.

“Did you guys find everything you were looking for today?”

You nod your head. “Yeah we did.” You smile. After finishing checking out, you make your way around the mall. Coming across a Victoria's Secret. "Isn't this what you came here for John?" You smirk. Seeing his cheeks turn pink. He rolls his eyes. "You think I'm scared?" He laughs. "Course not. Cmon."

You're shopping around a bit, you've only found a couple of things to buy. You don't expect to run into your friend. The one who was supposed to go to the barbecue with you. You wanted to call her up and thank her for not showing up. Than, you might not have gone home with John. She approaches you when she sees you. "Hey Y/N." She smiles. "Hey. What are you doing?" You ask. "Just shopping around. I haven't heard from you in a couple weeks. been worried about you." She looks concerned. "Oh... It's a long story." You blush. She looks confused. "Sorry darling, I had to take that phone call." John appears from behind you and once her eyes see him, they widen slightly. "Oh. I see. Is this uh..." She asks. Seeing you nod your head. "Oh shit." She laughs. "I missed a few chapters I see." She smiles. "John, this is my friend I told you about, the one who was supposed to come to the barbecue." He reaches a hand out and firmly shakes her hand. "Nice to meet you. Y/N has told me a lot about you." He nods. His accent is thick just like you said it was.

She laughs. "Trust me, Y/N has told me A LOT about you too." She winks. Seeing crimson rush up your cheeks. "Well I got class in a few hours and I still have more shopping to do. I'll see you around Y/N. Nice meeting you John." She smiles. After some more goodbye's, you're parting ways. After checking out and going through a couple more stores with John, you're making your way out to the parking lot. "Eventful day ah?" He laughs. "Very."

He opens up your door for you and just as you're about to get in, you hear someone calling his name from across the parking lot. "Hey John." You see a man jogging up to him. He's familiar. You seen him around your dad a few times, knowing who he is. He's a friend of both John and your dad. "Is... Is that Y/N?" He asks. Seeing you sitting in the passenger seat. "Yeah." John smiles. "Oh.. so what he said is true." He looks awkward. "What did he say?" John crosses his arms. "That you were messing around with his daughter." He laughs, turning to look at you. "You okay honey?" He asks. You narrow your eyes. "Oh, I'm great. Better than ever." You stand up, pushing the door open further. Wrapping an arm around John. "I guess you could say that. I don't know why he acts like he even cares about her. You know he let his wife send Y/N off drunk from that last get together they had? If it weren't for me she would've had to walk home." John shakes his head. "You're kidding, he always made himself out to sound like a great dad." He shakes his head. "No, his wife had my car towed the next morning and he didn't even care." You grumble. "Wow. I'm sorry to hear that Y/N. Well... as weird as it is to see the both of you together, I hope you're doing well. See you around." He tilts his head. John waves and you get back into his truck.

"Jesus. Let's get home before we run into my dad next." You laugh. "No kidding." John laughs.

———

John is finishing up the dishes. You said you needed to shower and get ready for school the next day, so you're upstairs.

You feel a little bad for leaving him hanging but you know the surprise you have for him will make up for it.

You finish putting on the set of black lingerie he had his eye on. Waiting for him to come upstairs. You can hear his footsteps coming upstairs. Waiting in the doorway of his bathroom for him. When he steps inside, you step into his line of sight. Seeing a smirk grow at his lips. "Jesus..." He breathes. He steps closer to you, hands gliding over your hips to pull you closer to him. "Where you been all my life huh?" He laughs. Pressing his lips to yours.

Before that night at your dads house, if someone had told John this is where he'd be a couple months later, he'd tell them they're crazy. His hands glide down your ass, he hears you gasp because of how cold they are. "Jesus." You laugh. Taking a breath. "You're perfect you know that?" He breathes. He pulls you back into him. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you standing between his legs. He toys with the black lace of the lingerie set. You take in a deep breath, eyes feeling heavy as his hands climb higher up your stomach, hands cupping your breasts.

You didn't know how long this would last. Maybe John would have a come to jesus moment and feel bad for messing around with you because you were so young. Maybe he'd tell you to stay away from him someday, restore that friendship with your dad. Leave you with nothing. Maybe he didn't really believe that you were in love with him.

But you knew, all you could do was savor it. Relish in every last burn his fingers left on your skin. You tilt your head back as his hand moves higher, brushing over your throat. John is like some sick drug. The effects he has on you are everlasting. He presses his hand over your throat, pushing you back so that he could spin you around. He pushes you back onto the bed and you barely realize where you are. "Am I losing you darling? You this crazy about me huh?" He laughs. You look up at him, gliding your tongue over your lips. You don't know what to say, so you choose to say nothing at all.

He grasps the hem of his shirt. Pulling it over his head. "S'alright. You can keep daydreaming. I'll take you somewhere nice baby." He leans down, kissing you again. He's got himself propped up with one hand to unbutton his jeans. Once he's freed himself, he pushes your legs apart. Grasping the panties you had on and pulling them down. He moves himself up. Looking down at you. It's dim in the room. You swallow hard. He lowers his head, lips right near your ear. "Just relax for daddy, yeah?" He smiles. His warm breath causes chills to rise on your skin. "Fuck." You breathe. He lines himself up with your entrance, sinking into you. A hiss leaves his lips. He doesn't feel he'll ever get used to the way you wrap so tightly around him.

"Fuck." He breathes. He slides out, pushing himself back inside. The warmth he feels from you is always so much. He doesn't know how he holds back from cumming so fast that it's pathetic.

The way he grips the sheets is like a maniac. Holding on for dear life as he loses himself in you.

"Look at me baby." He breathes. Lifting your chin to look at him. You look up at him, eyes full of tears of pleasure. They always are when the both of you are intimate with each other. Your thighs shiver and he's barely touched you. "Give yourself to me." He breathes. "Want you to look at me okay?" He breathes. "Keep looking at me baby." He breathes. He raises his hips just slightly, rutting deeper into you. Your eyes close instinctively. You hear him chuckle. "Keep them open darling. Keep looking at me." He breathes. He keeps a steady pace, watching the walls behind your eyes start to crumble. He's so good at making you fall apart. Picking apart every last nerve ending in your body. He uses his thumb to rub your sensitive nub, sparks shooting into your lower stomach. Your lips part and cries start to leave your lips. Your eyes get heavy but you obey him. Keeping them open.

You push him off of you, taking him off guard.

You push him back, climbing on top of him. He gasps as you slide down onto his length again. It's easy with how wet he's made you. You grasp his wrists and pin them above his head. He entertains it and lets you. Wondering what exactly you had in store for him. "It's your turn. Your turn to look at me." You start to rut your hips into his, seeing his face turn up like he's in pain. You know he's not. He's feeling good. He groans out as you raise your hips off of him, sliding back down on him. You keep eye contact with him. Getting exactly what you wanted. His eyes are fixated on yours and his lower stomach clenches up. "Fuck, you feel so good baby." He hisses. He lowers his gaze for a second to watch his length disappear into you. The perfect show.

You're soaking him, the wetness of your pussy gathers at the base of his cock. He can feel it running down him. "Fuck- John." You pant. He grips your hair. Tugging your head back. "No, that's not what you call me baby." He growls. Your body shakes over him. "Daddy." You mewl. "So close.. so so close." You sob. He starts to rut his hips up into you. watching you fall apart above him. "Look at me." He sits up, holding you into him. He keeps thrusting up into you. "Cum with me. Look at me baby." He pants. Your hips jump slightly. Body going stiff as you cum, but you keep eye contact with him as he finishes you off. He holds you tight against him, thrusting up into you, emptying himself of his filth. Pumping you full of it.

When he finally stills inside of you, you take a deep breath. Laying your head on his shoulder. After a few minutes, he finally laughs. "Feel better sweetheart?"

"Much." You laugh.

"I'll always take care of you, you know." He brushes your hair out of your face. You rest your head on his chest. "You don't have to go through any more bullshit, not while I'm here."

Your dad gave John a choice.

But he thinks he's got his mind made up already.

[dulcewrites]

Fool Me Once (pt 2)

Pairing: Aemond targaryen x reader (wc: 3.6k)

Summary: Despite learning about Aemond cheating on you, life has never been sweeter. Who knew being so bad could be so good.

Warnings: manipulation, mentions/allusions to pregnancy issues, mentions of self harm

A/N: first, I just have to say thank you for the response to part 1. I truly had no idea it would get the reception it would. Thank you to everyone who followed me as well. I hope I can continue to produce stuff y’all like. I’m hoping to write more hotd stuff, Aemond and non Aemond related. I plan on taking a small hiatus but will be back around thanksgiving weekend. I will be writing on/off during that time but just away for a trip/the holiday. If you have any hotd requests my inbox is always open. I would try to get them out either before my hiatus next week (11/16) or after it ends (11/26). I’m pretty open to writing any character, though I will warn you I’m way more fascinated by the greens so they just come easier to me. Anyway please reblog, like, and follow if you read anything you enjoy 🫶🏽🫶🏽. And some housekeeping: in this Aegon is not r*pist who enjoys watching children fight (the hotd are truly…. not right for the cartoonishly evil way they wrote Aegon). He’s just petty and neglected. Also the timing of this is different from the books bc Aemond meets Alys pre dance.

Fmo masterlist

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A bastard Strong. The irony is not lost on you. Your straight-laced husband fucking someone who is the complete opposite you. Older, no kids, no title, and no duty to uphold. At this point, it doesn’t hurt anymore. Instead, it makes your blood boil in the most delicious way. Aemond’s betrayal made you realize how you’ve been going through the motions; endlessly sleepwalking, hoping one day Aemond would come around. It woke you up to how much he’s taken advantage of you. He sees your kindness, and aversion to standing out as a weakness. Something he can manipulate and twist like one of his daggers.

The both of you must have forgetten where you came from. A rich, well respected house. The only daughter of smart, albeit conniving, family that knows how to get what they want. Your family didn’t have dragons or absurd ideas of exceptionalism to help you gain power. You’ve learned that inflated egos and prideful indulges can cloud Targaryen judgment. A trait you hope skips your children.

Shame on you for thinking Aemond would be different. Shame on him for the carefully curated facade.

All you do after Larys Strong comes to you the first time is think. You can’t remember the last time you’ve had this many options in front of you. Your mother’s words about patience run through your head. Keeping your wits is key. Play your hand too quickly, and you lose all leverage. You have Daella and the babe in your belly to think about. You stood pat in the beginning; Lord Strong simply relaying messages to you. You make sure Alys gets the letter Aemond wrote, and the ones after that. Lord Larys makes sure you get the details of each letter exchanged.

When the days grew lonely, and your body aches because of the babe in your stomach, you think about the letters. The declarations of love and recounts of lust filled meetups simmer in your head, but it’s the mentions of you that makes the anger sizzle and crackle. It makes the guilt you feel wash away.

You question if the rumor is true. That his Alys is a witch. Does her magic allow her to see the way Helaena can? Fuzzy premonitions and dreams that only make sense after they happen; a gift and a curse. A part of you wishes it to be true. You hope while your stomach stirs with untold truths, hers stirs with regret. Maybe the pain that runs through you leaves an unfamiliar taste in her mouth. That she can’t quite put her finger on it, but she feels you.

You wonder if when Aemond prays, he asks the Father to protect him… to protect her. The same way when you pray, you ask the Warrior to help you find the courage to destroy him.

It started with a bruise. A bruise that you don’t even remember how you got. Maybe one of those things you just wake up with. But it’s there, on the inside part of your left arm. It’s starting to fade but an otherwise noticeable bruise that stands out when you wear something with shorter sleeves.

The idea doesn’t come to you till you see the curiosity in Alicent’s eyes when you absentmindedly rub the bruise while asking if she’s seen Aemond. It’s only you two in the walkway; an unusually quiet day at the Red Keep. Her eyes go from it to the far away look in your eyes. It makes her tilt her head in thought.

“No dear, I haven’t,” her eyes go back to the scratch. “Are you doing alright? I know for some, the second babe can be even harder than the first.”

You look down at your arm, and something just clicks.

“I’m fine,” you start, then you make your voice tremble a bit. “I will be fine. I think I’m just tired.”

You give her a strained smile, and she returns one that tells you she doesn’t believe you. You can feel her big brown eyes burning into your back when you walk past her towards your chambers. There could be two thoughts in her head: you did this yourself or someone else did it to you. Either way, her son’s sweet pregnant lady wife is not doing well, and her son is nowhere to be found. Queen Alicent is one of the smartest, if not the smartest, person you know. She sees the change in her son; the change in the dynamic between Aemond and you.

It hits you. It would be too easy to physically harm Aemond. Though the idea of taking the blade that hangs from his hips and putting it to his throat has crossed your mind more times than you’re proud of. It would be too easy to get Larys to kill Alys. You don’t want to give Aemond the satisfaction of having his whore’s blood on your hands.

Where’s the fun in killing when your rage could be channeled into something more… methodical.

Under all that false bravado is the little boy who got picked on for not having a dragon. To break the man means bringing out that little boy. A truly broken man can’t love anyone. Isolation, and self hatred. What a gorgeous combination for your dear husband.

If this is going to work you need to up the ante.

So, you write. If Aemond and Alys can document their love, you can document your pain. You sent your lady in waiting out to get a blank book from one of the maesters. The color dyed cow skin feels smooth under your hands. There needs to be a slow build. Each day you grow closer and closer to shattering. Whoever reads it needs to know Aemond brought you to this place. He is the villain in the story of the poor, innocent wife that did nothing but carry his children and try to love him.

It will read like a diary, but to you it is a creation. A mixture of truth and imagination. A manifestation of pent up feelings. Purging and revenge all rolled up into one. You make sure to mention how terrified you are for your safety, and for you children’s safety. How an angry or disenchanted Aemond is nothing to toy with, especially if he has a bastard witch on his side. How maybe life would be better for Aemond if you just weren’t around.

But this fading bruise isn’t enough. Neither is just having a diary that will be discovered in due time. A deep cut, a dark bruise, half hazardously placed hand prints.. now that could work.

There’s something cathartic about the pain you feel when the dagger slices through your skin. The blood is so red and warm. It smears so smoothly on the page. Blood on your dress, cloth pressed to the wound, and wandering the halls is how Ser Criston finds you. You notice the worried, confused look in his eyes when you stutter out an ‘I don’t know’ when he asks what happened.

As the maester tends to your wound, you notice how Alicent and Criston stand in the corner of Alicent’s quarters. They occasionally glance at you while they whisper to each other. You recognize the familiar crinkle she gets in her forehead when she’s upset. All her children do it too.

“Sweetling, we both think it might be a good idea to give you your own knight of the kingsguard,” she sits next you. “Just to help you and… keep an eye on you during this vulnerable time.”

You blink. Not one mention of her son. But it’s clear to see how Ser Criston is with his queen. Submissive, and utterly devoted. Having someone like that is an asset. So, you smile weakly and nod. The more people who see you in this way, the better.

Ser Quinton Throne was quiet in the beginning. As if he was scared to be in your space. A far cry from the rambunctious knight his brother, Rickard, is. Moving past the initial shyness, he is attentive and even indulges Daella’s fascination with him. Despite you telling her not to, she would always run up to him, tugging on his white cloak to get his attention. She likes having someone around just as much as you.

The distance between Aemond and you had started to carry over into his relationship with Daella. Kids are more intuitive than adults give them credit for. Your throat felt tight when you daughter finally asks where father goes. You lie; it comes easy to you, easier than you thought it would. It makes you think if this is how easy it is for Aemond to lie to you. Or for everyone to not gloss over the clear problems in your life.

You would lying if you said it wasn’t nice having a man around, even if it was his job. It was Aemond’s job to do right by you, and he couldn’t do that. A man carrying out his orders with a warm smile was welcomed. The comfort of having someone who sweared his allegiances to you, and only you, and intended on keeping them.

You look from your embroidery loop to see Daella and Ser Quinton sword fighting with wooden swords. It’s an uncharacteristically sunny day. Perfect to get much needed fresh air, and apparently going to battle.

“She’s gotten quite good.”

Like a storm rolling in to ruin a sunny day, your husband’s tone is ever cold and distant. You hate the uncomfortable energy that radiates when he sits next to you.

“Yes, she has,” you stare at the Lysene lilac flower starting to come to life on your loop. “He’s good with her as well.”

You know he won’t like you saying that. He hates Quinton being around, and he especially hates how Daella taken a liking to him. Aemond scoffs and mumbles something under his breath you can’t make out.

“It’s just lovely having real protector around,” you continue to push your luck. “Someone so attentive and… strong.“

You look at with his a sickening sweet smile. He opens his mouth to say something, a complaint or rude comment since those seem to be the only reasons he talks to you, but he is interrupted by Daella yelling out for him.

“We’ll talk about this later,” he mutters to you, getting up.

“Oh you’ll actually be here long enough for that?”

The words slip out your mouth and it makes him turn to glare at you. It reminds you of the gossip you heard about him when you first arrived at court. How cold the king’s second son can be. It should’ve been a warning to you.

Quinton takes it as his cue to leave them be; you know he can sense how much Aemond doesn’t appreciate his presence. You watch as Daella clings to her father. As selfish as it sounds, you patiently wait for the day she too realizes he can’t be depended on.

“My mother used to make me embroider,” your knight’s voice breaks you out of looking on. “Something about being dangerous with a needle is just as great as being dangerous with a sword.”

You take a good look at him. If Aemond is the moon - ethereal, mysterious, and always changing, then Quinton is the sun. Bright, forward facing, and shines brighter with time. His choppy black hair, beard, and warm standing in contrast to your husband’s Targaryen features.

“Sounds like a smart woman,” you smile as he sits next to you.

His eyes linger on your embroidery work before traveling to you right arm. The blade wound was just starting to scab and scar over. His first day on duty was marked by seeing your husband give a long lecture on safety and ‘using your brain’ after Aemond saw your wound. The blade cut wasn’t under pure circumstances, but the look of resentment on your face was real. He saw that. He’s never asked what really happened to your arm.

“How are you my lady,” he whispers. You told him he can address you by your name, but he still insist on the formal names especially around others. “Is the babe giving you trouble.”

Ser Quinton, Helaena, and Alicent are the only people that seem to care about your well being, on top of the babe’s. Aemond concern went making sure the babe was fine to just not asking all together. It’s better that way, you think. You don’t think you’d be able to take fake concern about your little ‘mistake’.

“My bladder is being pushed on, I’m finding clumps of my hair on my pillow, and Maester Oliver told me this baby will weigh more than Daella did,” you reply lightly. “But other than that I’m doing fine.”

This pregnancy had knocked you on your ass. You’re sure the stress and thoughts that consume you don’t help. You know how it feels to come into a fracture family; it makes you feel awful for the babe in your stomach. Your parents tried hard, frankly too hard, to pretend things were good between them. Trying to prove their union was more than a duty for their houses. Till this day, you don’t know what’s worse: knowing they didn’t share that love or the years you watched them fake everything. They had ambitions, and to carry them out there needed to be an appearance of an united front. You took your father’s lead, knowing he always tried to have your best interest. The relationship you have with your mother often ebbing and flowing, especially since your marriage.

When you ravened your mother about your pregnancy troubles, she tells you that this is your responsibility to your husband. Harsh and utterly true. You don’t know if your father ever had indiscretions like Aemond, but you know she’d never plot the way you do. Her calculating nature showing up in different ways. Instead of going after him, she chose to focus on elevating you.

Her and Queen Alicent remind you of each other. Devoted to a fault. A victim who had no other choice but to fall in line.You pray for the both of them. Pray that they find peace with the sacrifices they’ve made. Pray that you never get that far. A shell of yourself. Duty, responsibility, cleaning up others’ messes - what a dull way to live.

“Once he’s out, I’m sure it will all be worth it,” says Ser Quinton, voice not wavering.

He’s trying to be kind, mentioning the working theory in the castle that you’re having a boy. You try to smile at the thought. It’s hard to believe that. Plan or not, you still have to know the truth about the father of your children. There is hole left in your heart about that. Him disrespecting you is one thing, but his words pertaining to your unborn child is another. A sudden spurt of anger rushes over you thinking about everything. It makes you stand abruptly.

“I’m feeling tired,” you watch as Daella pretend to stab her father with her sword. Her giggles ringing out when he reaches to pick her up. The dichotomy of Aemond Targaryen will always fascinate you as much as it terrifies you. How he manages to smile in her face, and lie to yours is quite a sight to watch. “I’ll send Margret out to get Daella.”

Waiting for the perfect moment is not going to work. There no time like the present.

The stiff upper lip of this family is something you noticed the moment you stepped into their presence. It’s seeped into the way they gatekeep a dying Viserys. Alicent is cold and collected in the most beautiful way. A sharp glittering icicle. A pretty rose littered with thorns to keep you admiring from a distance. Even Helaena, who you consider a friend, keeps certain things close to the chest. It’s better to keep the full truth away from her.

But there’s Aegon.

Pitiful, and lonely Prince Aegon. A drunk with a bad attitude. But he’s also the most painfully self-aware person you know. There will be times that you and him exchange looks, as you are in on the joke. That everything is a farce. One day someone will just come up and say it’s all been a bad dream. You think it’s the reason why he frustrates Aemond so much. The teasing on top of him never taking the Targaryen name seriously. Aegon spends his days trying to drink and fuck his way out of thinking about his life. Stuck in a royal cuckold. The first born son of a king with nothing to show for it.

He’s messy, nosy, and so openly brash. He’s your missing chess piece. The perfect pawn.

You leave the diary around places in the castle you know he will be. It’s not until you conveniently leave it in the play room where all Daella, Jaehaera, and Jaehaerys all frequent that you know he’s taken the bait. His lilac eyes seem to follow you whenever you two are in the same room. It takes days for him to confront you; book in hand and wry look on his face.

“Is it true? Everything you wrote?”

You stroke your belly while looking at him, a small smile on your face.

“Does it matter that if it is,” you tilt your head, and his eyes glitter with something you’re not used to seeing.

He mirrors your head tilt with a full blown smile on his face this time. It’s like a bright light after weeks of darkness. A person who also sees through the bullshit that enraptures once you call yourself a Targaryen.

“I greatly underestimated you my good sister,” he whispers. You know he’s thinking about his own words. ‘Pretty but horribly dull’.

“That’s fine,” you motion to the seat next to you. “You can make it up to me.”

Queen Alicent stands facing the fire. Aegon, Helaena, and Ser Quinton off to the side. All of them standing across from where you sit. Aegon gives you a knowing look while Quinton’s eyes are filled with pity and anger. Pity for his princess, anger towards his prince. Helaena looks like she wants to say something.

“I… do not know what to say,” her voice is strained with pain. You know this hurts for her. The image of the perfect son being destroyed. The pedestal she put him on crumbling before him.

You’ve gotten better at crying after Aegon told you tears will be necessary to sell it. It’s an automatic response now. The perfectly timed emotion that breaks like flood gates when Alicent holds out the diary. You say you’re embarrassed. That you never meant for anyone to read it, especially not anyone in the family. Aegon gets to be the concerned good brother. He rubbed your back, while his mother called for Helaena. She needed to know who else knew about this.

“I can say what everyone is thinking,” Aegon pipes up. “He’s a fucking cunt.”

“Aegon.”

His mother turns to glare at him, but it doesn’t deter him.

“Walking around with that self righteousness just to fuck a Strong,” he scoffs. “Calling his child a mistake?”

The words makes Alicent sigh, and squeeze her eyes shut. Helaena continues to play with her fingers with a quizzical look in her eye. If Aegon of all people can judge, the actions must be bad.

“This all my fault,” you decide to take it up a notch. Your breath catches. “I must’ve done something to deserve this.”

“Oh my sweet girl,” Alicent walks over and sits next to you, pulling you into her chest. “None of this is your fault.

“I just don’t know what I did to deserve this,” you continue. That part is true; what the seven hells did you do to deserve this marriage? “This, and the baby, and missing my family. I’m just so unhappy here.”

Alicent strokes your hair. You can feel her heart thumping in her chest. You can tell she’s upset and scared. Scared for what your unhappiness means. You’re a risk now.

“Maybe… my father can come and visit. He hasn’t been here since Daella was born.”

After you got married, your parents left court to tend to your house. They felt their work was done. That the marriage was as far as their political ambitions can go. They visit from time to time to see their granddaughter but normally you’re the one who has to make the trip.

“Of course,” you can see the wheels turning in her head. “I’m sure the Hand would love to pick his brain on some things. Your father has always been so kind and helpful”

Queen Alicent is as predictable as she is smart. Your dad thought your marriage would help him get a seat in the small council. When no offer came, his ego was bruised. If your marriage couldn’t, maybe a desperate Alicent can. The idea of sending a raven about the news makes you have to bite back a smile. An ally in an castle full of strangers.

“I’ll speak to Aemond about this,” she nods to herself. “You don’t need to be worrying about this in your condition.”

The disappointment is clear in smooth voice. Before you can reply with a thank you, Helaena finally piped up.

“A baby’s green eyes spurs brighter skies.”

She mutters it before looks at you curious. You look down at your swollen belly, feeling confused. Neither Aemond or you have green eyes. You try to push the sinking feeling out of your stomach. Even Aegon, who normally ignores Helaena’s cryptic language, has perked up a little.

You take a look at Ser Quinton… his eyes as green as spring grass.

Ok this is my first one doing a tag list, so I’m sorry for those I’ve missed. It only let me do 50??? Idk it’s it’s different on desktop or I’m doing something wrong. Hopefully I can find a more conducive way for this. I also only tagged people who specifically asked: @afro-hispwriter @crispmarshmallow @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @its-sam-allgood @lol-im-done @grey-water-colors @sassysaxsolo @justsumstufff @lilithskywalker @dc-marvel-girl96 @bekky06 @claudie-080102 @cloudroomblog @shelbythequeen @crazylokonugget @solacestyles @instantpeachpeace @katyadenauer @nsainmoonchild @deeeeexx @iwanttohitmyself @rosa-berberifolia @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @princessmiaelicia @bregarc @castellomargot @thesadvampire @chaosmagiq @icarusignite @happinessinthebeing @flavorofsalt @wishfulwithwine @slut-for-eddie-munson @rosaryos @mistalli @inana-mm @winxschester @papery-maniac @nolongereviliwantlove @fultimefangirl @missusnora @skinmittensgoblin @duckworthbean @b00kdiary @chiyausu @alexandra-001 @tachibubu @juneisreading @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @verycollectivecreator

[dulc3vida]

durazno

pope heyward x lamb!reader

content warning: a peach gets violated, blasphemy, the good stuff. 18+ read at your own risk.

2.4k words

Pope Heyward is not a religious man. He’s a man of science. He likes tangible things that can be studied and understood.

No matter how much he tried explaining that to Heyward, it didn’t matter. As long as he lived under their roof it meant he had to put on his best dress shirt and slacks every Sunday to go to church. It wasn’t all bad. Everyone was really nice there and the music was pretty good.

His favorite part of church is you. The preacher's daughter. Always at the front of the choir, soft voice singing “Christ Be Our Light” and other hymns. You’re truly an angel. You always helped lead the kids out of mass into their Sunday school classrooms. You always volunteered with the food bank and at the animal shelter. You even tutored after school at the public library.

It’s a self indulgent fantasy, Pope thinking he could have you in any way. You’re kook royalty, right up there next to the Camerons. Even if social status wasn’t an issue, a girl like you would never go for him. He reminded himself of that fact every time you caught him staring and smiled demurely from across the pews. You’re a nice girl, you smile at everyone.

Pope, unfortunately, always managed to look away before he could catch your eyes lingering and your teeth sinking into your plush bottom lip as you stared at him with curiosity.

After hurricane Agatha, you suggested to your father the church should gather resources to help with relief. You were surprised at his reluctance and you recited bible verses until you turned blue, not taking no for an answer. “Love thy neighbor, daddy. You taught me that.” He held out for a while, but nevertheless he agreed so long as you helped organize.

You rallied the support of all the kooks, gathering donations. They could never say no to you, even if they didn’t necessarily want to help provide aid to the inhabitants of the cut. You got on your dad’s boat with a group of volunteers from church and set sail for the mainland, returning with tons of food and other necessities. It took an entire day for your group to get all the care packages ready and to assign groups to specific addresses.

When delivery day came around, you made sure one specific address was reserved just for you. Your dad made himself clear that he didn’t want you wandering around the cut by yourself but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, you thought to yourself as your bike rode up the gravel driveway of Heyward’s. You prayed the night before that Pope would be there and God answered. Pope was on the dock, spraying some buckets clean with a hose. His striped button down open and his bare chest on display, making your heart pound in your chest. He doesn’t turn around to look at you when he hears you approaching.

“Almost done, Pops. Just got a few more.”

“Hi, Pope.” You greet, lacing your words with sweetness.

Pope whipped around at the sound of your voice. “Hey-Hi.” His face burns as he stutters over a basic greeting. It didn’t help that you were staring into his soul with your big brown eyes like a lost little lamb. “Can I help you with anything?” He asked, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. He almost thinks you’re checking him out.

“No.” You shake your head, soft waves cascading over your shoulders. There is an awkward silence, neither of you knowing what to say until you remember the bags in your hands. “I brought this… For your family… It’s from the church. You know, relief. It’s not much-”

“This is great, thank you.” Pope took one of the bags and then noticed the other one in your hands. “What's that?”

“Uhm… Peaches. For you.” You held the bag out, intentionally letting your fingers linger on his. “My dad went to Georgia last week for a church thing. These are my favorite.” You licked your lips as you watched him pull one out of the bag and dig his teeth into the flesh of the fruit. You wondered what it would feel like to be the peach.

Pope didn't know if he just wanted the fruit to taste good or if it was actually that good because he practically moaned at the taste. “This is the best peach I’ve ever had.” It made you laugh and it sounded like a melody. He could only imagine that you tasted just as good. “Thank-”

The sound of JJ hooting and hollering alerted both of your attentions. “Come on, loverboy! We gotta get a move on!” He called from the HMS Pogue.

“I should go.” You smiled at him warmly. “Bye, Pope. Have a blessed day.” You called out to his friends, waving as you turned to get back on your bike.

“You too, sweetheart!” JJ called back, earning a slap to the arm from John B.

“Don't be a creep, dude.”

“What? I was just being nice?”

Pope watched you swing your leg over your bike, the wind catching your skirt and blowing it upwards just enough to reveal your cotton white panties. JJ nearly broke his neck trying to get a better look.

“Pervs…” Kie rolled her eyes. “That's the preacher's daughter, you know that right?”

“I know.” A smirk spread over JJ’s face. “Church girls are always the freakiest. You know, pent up sex feels? Bet she humps her pillow every night starin’ at a cross-”

“Okay, that's enough.” Pope finally turns around once he is sure his hardening dick isn’t visible. “Let's go.”

“Ooh, peaches?” John B wiggled his fingers together and reached for the bag but Pope yanked it away. “Oh come on, there's at least 12 in there. Are you on your way to be in a math problem?” Pope sighed and tossed one at John B. He turned to Kiara and JJ who were sitting on their knees, groveling like dogs. They each get a peach tossed at them.

“That's what I’m talking about.” JJ bit his peach. “She's totally into you.”

“No, she's not. She's just being nice.”

“Hey, John B? You get any Georgia peaches in your care package?” He looked at the label on the fruit before biting the peach again.

“Nah. You?”

“Nah. Want my advice?” JJ tossed the pit of his peach into the water.

“I really don't-” Pope shook his head, taking control over the wheel of the HMS.

“Try that door. I guarantee it's unlocked for you.”

Pope was usually a sound sleeper. His dreams were never too scary and he was always able to fall asleep once he focused on his breathing for a bit. Tonight was different.

Every time he closed his eyes he saw you.

He couldn’t help it. You invaded his mind the second he stepped into your fathers church. When he raised his hand in worship it was always for you. As far as Pope was concerned, God wasn’t real. You were real. Someone he could genuinely worship and devote himself to completely. Selfishly. You were the lamb and he was the pathetic, cowardly lion.

Pope sat up in bed and looked around his room tiredly until his eyes stopped on the bag of peaches. He wasn’t sure why he brought them into his room but he knew he would regret it in the morning. He got out of bed and grabbed a peach before lying back in bed. He pressed a finger against its center, obscenely digging his finger inside and pulling out the pit.

Juice dripped onto his chest and onto his chin as he sucked all the fruit off the pit before tossing it aside, moving the peach down his boxers. It was a tight fit and it made him screw his eyes shut. It didn’t help.

All it took was 3 strokes and the image of the faint outline of your pussy through your panties and he was biting his hand to muffle the sound of his orgasm. He set the peach on his nightstand feeling the need to take a cold, cold shower before he went to bed.

In the morning, Pope felt guilty. Pope is not a religious man but something about what he had done made him feel the need to seek penance. He needed to face some kind of punishment, even if it meant confessing that he fucked a peach to the thought of the preacher’s daughter.

The only spot in the world where you could truly be yourself was the confessional. No one came to confess as much as they needed so it was only really ever used on occasions that called for it. You liked coming to the church on the days where no one was there except your father doing paperwork in his office. It was the perfect place to read books your parents wouldn’t approve of. From medieval torture methods to smut. Anything mildly taboo that you could sneak out of the public library. You always returned the books and repented.

Today, you were halfway through A Certain Hunger when you heard the doors of the church creak open. You peek out of the door and immediately close it. Pope is making his way towards the booth.

He steps inside and closes the door, not daring to look towards who he thinks is the minister. Instead, he closes his eyes. “Forgive me father, for I have sinned.” Pope inhales sharply when there is no response. He takes it as permission to continue. “I gave into temptation and lust. I… I…” Pope didn’t know how to describe it. “I… committed a sex act… with a peach. I feel incredibly guilty and it’s not the act that I feel most guilty about but who I was thinking about during it. I feel like I violated her in some way and-”

“Was it me?” Your soft voice made his heart drop. He thinks he’s hallucinating. It was silent for a minute before you repeat yourself. “Were you thinking about me, Pope?”

Pope took another moment before responding. “Yes.” He was mortified at your silence. “I’m really, really sorry-” He was cut off by the sound of your door opening and shutting. His mind raced with the possibility of you running to your father ready to tell him what a sick deviant he is.

Instead, the door to his side of the confessional opened and you closed the door behind yourself.

“Hi.” You practically whispered, a smile playing on your face that you were trying to hide. “Did you, really?” He nods, afraid to speak. “I’m sorry.”

Pope has to blink a few times to digest your words. “Why?”

“I was tempting you.” You confess, thinking on everytime you would give Pope a coquettish glance or your bold move wearing a skirt you knew would show your panties off with one breeze. He stared at you inquisitively. “I’ve been trying to seduce you. I’m sorry I led you to sin.” You knelt before him. “Recently, I have been overcome with lustful thoughts about you. I… I use the thought of you for pleasure.” Your confession was sending all blood in Pope’s brain straight down to dick. “I don’t think you deserve any penance.” Your voice quieted to a whisper before you carefully reached to touch his bulge. Pope made no move to stop you.

“What are you doing?” He questions, voice strangles at the feeling of your hand rubbing against his dickprint. You looked up at him, the same way you look when you take the body of christ into your mouth.

“Paying my penance.” You slip your hand down his pants and stroke his already hard cock. His skin is soft and it’s a little bit curved. Your mouth waters at the feel. You do what you read in your books, pumping your hand up and down slowly. You were enjoying this.

Pope’s breath gets caught in his throat. “Wait… Are you sure we should do this?”

“I can stop if you want…” You pulled him out of his pants, admiring how pretty his dick is in your hand. “But, remember Pope… The Lord is my shepherd. I shall not be in want. Neither should you.” You sink your mouth onto him and he feels like he is in heaven. “We can always repent. Love covers a multitude of sins and God loves us.” You reassure him, taking him back into your mouth.

Pope feels like he’s on fire from his head to his toes. His head rests against the wall as you bob your head up and down his length. He’s not a religious man, but this is the closest he has come to truly feeling God’s presence. He looks down at you and you are already staring at him, mouth full as you choke down as much as you can. You gag around him and come up for air, gasping as you kitten lick his tip before taking his tip into your mouth and swirling your tongue around it.

You look beautiful. Your eyes never left him. Your hair stuck to your forehead from sweat and your eyes were all watery and glassy. You even had your heel between your legs, rocking back and forth on it. You moaned and it sent vibrations all through his cock. He wanted to worship you the same way you were worshiping him. He was praying for the strength to stay silent as his eyes roam the walls, staring at the intricate cross motifs carved into the wood panels. He had never felt the watchful eye of God until now.

It was truly a miracle he lasted as long as he did because it didn’t take much longer before he was trying to pull you off. “I’m gonna-” He panted out, breathing becoming ragged. You didn’t want to come off though. You forced yourself down until your nose touched the base of his cock. You could feel him pulsing as it all shot down your throat.

Pope almost screamed when you kept sucking after he came. You came up, pressing kisses against his dick. Neither of you spoke while you put him back in his pants and then nuzzled his leg, wanting attention like a needy lamb. He pet your hair, tucking it behind your ear.

“Did you throw the peach away?” Pope shakes his head no. “Can I have it?”

this was unhinged and very self indulgent :p hope u like!

[kayentokk]

Hey :) How are you doing?

Okay so, i wanted to request a platonic father Aizawa in which he is out patroling and he finds his teen daughter doing something ilegal with her friends or something like that.

Please and thankss :)

A/N; I’m okay thanks for asking! Love this idea, I’ve gotten many requests somewhat related to this lately actually! I’ll be posting those throughout the week. Also sorry it’s taken me a while to get to this! 🥲 I truly believe Aizawa is a girl dad and a softie parent. 

Pairing; Platonic!Father Aizawa x Fem!Daughter Reader

Contains; a little ooc Aizawa, fluff, soft, drug mentions, reader is about 16-17 like mha characters, quirk-less reader, death mentions, bad friends, comfort

wc; 1,763

You weren’t supposed to get caught. In fact, you didn’t even think you would. It wasn’t a big deal anyways, you only did it because you thought it’d be a way to relax with your friends. Plus, if you guys did get caught your backup plan was your father. It wasn’t like he was going to detain you…right?

Wrong.

You were very wrong to believe that your father wouldn’t take you into custody over a little weed with your friends. You just wanted to have fun! Besides, you didn’t want to be the ‘perfect heroes daughter’ who’s a buzzkill. Why couldn’t he understand that? 

There was just so much pressure that came with being the child to a hero. Your friends already joked about how you were too ‘good’ to do anything remotely illegal. Which is part of the reason you were in this situation in the first place. 

Of course he just happened to be patrolling around the alley you and your friends decided to get a little high in. That was just your luck, he didn’t seem mad though. So you thought he’d just tell you guys not to do it anymore, and move on. Nope. Leave it to Aizawa to want to teach you a ‘lesson’ all of a sudden. He was normally just a “don’t do it again,” kind of parent. Mostly because you had never done anything of this caliber before.

“Did you really have to bring me in?”

Silence.

“I mean come on, none of the other heroes care. They’re too busy thinking about protecting the city, shouldn’t you be too? Nobody cares about a couple of kids getting a little buzzed, besides everyone does it nowadays-“

“That doesn’t make it okay y/n.”

You’ve rarely seen him like this, so tense. He didn’t look angry, but you couldn’t shake the feeling you got that he was. It was almost….scary. 

So you resigned to a simple, “Okay, I’m sorry.” Were you really sorry though? Not that much, you still didn’t see the big deal. 

He let out a low grunt, “This is serious y/n, I know you think I’m making a big deal out of nothing,” well he said it first, “but you could’ve been seriously hurt.”

“Hurt? From getting a little high?”

“Criminals lace that stuff all the time, whether it’s with poison, more drugs, or whatever else they decide-“

“Yeah sure, but we got it from a trusted source-“

“And who’s that?” He said crossing his arms. 

Oops.

You decided it’d be best not to respond right now. Especially since the source wasn’t technically trusted, just another kid who got it from someone else. Who probably got it from someone else too.

Sensing your apprehension he decide to drop it, “we’ll revisit that later,” he said waving a dismissive hand. “I’ll drop you off at home, you’re grounded.” 

You internally groaned at that, grounded? That’s a new one, you were starting to really regret your decision. You should have just told your friends no, even if it meant being the ‘buzzkill.’ Then you remembered, your friends-

“What about my friends?”

“We’re working on calling their parents to come pick them up soon.”

“No!-“ you said sharply, “I-I mean, can’t you just let them off? Or something?”

“You know that’s not how this works, they are already getting off with a minor offense. The worst they’re going to get is their parents’ scolding.”

“Dad! You don’t understand-“

“I understand perfectly fine, a bunch of young kids wanted to ‘have fun’ and thought this was the best way to do it.”

Okay maybe he did understand, but not your side. He didn’t get that now you’d officially be the outcast, the top 10 ranked hero’s daughter who gets everyone in trouble. Does he get how embarrassing that is? 

“Come on, let’s get going.”

You stood from the chair leaving the comfort of being shielded, by the small desk separator, from your friends’ piercing gazes. They thought your dad would let you all off too considering the chaos the city’s currently in. 

You nervously waved and mouthed a quick ‘sorry’ to them before rushing out the door trying to follow closely behind Aizawa. 

You guys didn’t speak the whole way home, you opted for silence mostly because it wasn’t that big of a deal and he just didn’t know what to say. You had never done anything like that before, or had he just never caught you? When did that start?

He remembered when you were little and you’d give your vegetables to stray animals so you didn’t have to eat them, or when you tried to sneak out at night and he caught you. But those were all pretty minor things, and he was only always concerned with your safety.

You’d never done anything this bad, and in terms of the worst thing you could do of course this wasn’t horrible but he still didn’t get why. It couldn’t have just been for fun.

He entered the house after unlocking the door and opening it for you. Before you could make it to your room, where you’d probably go to sulk, he decided he’d ask.

“Why did you want to do that y/n?”

You stopped and turned around to face him. He was standing in front of the door, and now that you actually took in his appearance he looked tired. His dark circles more prominent, eyes a light pink most likely from his quirk, and his black pants had small patches of dust that had been hastily patted off on them. 

You replied after a moment, briefly forgetting his question, “For fu-“

“And don’t just say for fun, because I know you and there are plenty of other things you would do for fun.”

You huffed resigning to just come out with it, “it was a bet.”

“A bet?”

“My friends bet me that I wouldn’t get high with them since I’m a hero’s daughter.”

“And you decided to take them up on that?”

“Yes, I know it was stupid okay?”

“I know you know, you’re smarter than that. So why’d you say yes?”

Why’d he have to be so persistent? “Maybe because I thought I’d finally get some friends.”

“What do you mean y/n? You do have friends.”

“No, I don’t. Momo, Tsu, and Uraraka only hang out with me out of pity, since you’re their teacher, if they even have time-“

“Pity? Y/n no they don’t, there’s nothing pitiful about you at all-“

You scoffed, “don’t lie. I get you’re my dad and all but be honest with yourself, truly honest.”

“I am being honest. I’d never lie-“

Guess you’d just have to spell it out for him then. “The only daughter you had killed your wife, was born quirk-less, and there’s nothing special about her!” You were shocked at the admission of your own feelings but kept going, “I don’t have a talent, I’m not exceptionally smart, I’m not breathtakingly pretty, and I can’t even make friends!” You listed raising a finger for each reason, “Now tell me what about that is not pitiful?”

After that question there was silence, and Aizawa was just looking at you. You hadn’t even noticed you were crying until the first tear slid down your nose crease and hit the corner of your lip. Before touching could even wipe your tear or register the sound of footsteps approaching you, you were being hugged. Fully covered by his arms, your head grazing the bottom of his chin where stubble had began to grow, face buried partially into his scarf. 

You heard high pitched wailing, which you hadn’t even registered was you until his hand began to rub up and down your back with quiet ‘shh’s to try calming you.  

“Don’t cry, it’s okay. It’s not your fault, none of it okay?” He began whispering in your ear.

“Your mom and I both knew the challenges she’d have if she gave birth to you. We were well aware, and she wanted to have you. She didn’t care if she’d die in the process, you are our child.”

He continued comforting you, and when you eventually calmed down he let go and gently pulled your face out of his chest so you could look him in his tired, red eyes. “I love you so much, and I’m sorry if I don’t tell you that enough okay? It’s my fault I’m sorry. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and you’re perfect. I mean that, I’d never lie. You don’t need a quirk, to be super smart, or have a special talent. You’re perfect to me, okay? And that’s all that matters. You’re important to me,” he said firmly. 

“Okay?”

You sniffled, reaching a hand to wipe your nose, “okay.”

“Hey,” he said turning your face back to his, “I really mean it, I’d be no where without you. And how could you say you’re not beautiful? I know I’m not the best looking hero, but haven’t you seen the pictures of your mom? You take after her, gorgeous. Nothing I’d ever change about you, I don’t regret anything.”

“Okay,” you said slightly unused to him saying these things, “I’ve never heard you say something so corny dad,” you said chuckling trying to lighten the mood. 

At that, he gave a small grin which faded when he remembered your earlier point, “And Ochaco, Tsuyu, and Yaoyorozu do like being your friend. Not just because I’m their teacher, trust me I’m more of a supervisor if anything. I let them figure most stuff out on their own. They wanted to meet and hang out with you. I don’t think you give yourself enough credit, you make friends just fine.” 

“I know, I know, it was just heat of the moment stuff dad.”

He let out a sigh of relief, hugged you once more, and pressed a kiss to the top of your forehead.

“I still have about another hour of night patrol, but I’ll stay here if you want me to?”

“No dad, it’s fine go.”

He looked at you once more as if saying, ‘are you sure?’ 

“Yes I’m sure I’m fine, it’s only an hour anyways.”

“Okay, call me if you need anything, I’ll be back soon,” he said headed towards the door.

“Okay,” you said starting to walk to your room. 

But just before he shut the door you dashed for it and started, “Hey! does this mean-“

“No you’re still grounded,” he said. 

And with that the door shut.

@/cafekitsune for the divider!

[mothwingwritings]

Can we have Ren/Fox (TPOF) and Mc with a child?Long after Fox decided to stay with MC, they both had a daughter (probably not something with consent and a bit of Stockholm syndrome).The daughter asks her mother how she got the scars and this makes MC have memories of post-traumatic stress.

I was so tickled by this ask that I started manically typing out a response for it nearly as soon as I saw it in my ask box (which at this point, was quite some time ago. Forgive me, I am a mess lul). I wrote the whole damn thing in a fit of passion, excited to release it into the world… But ultimately hated it and thought it was garbo, so I scrapped it and tried again. Wrote a second iteration and thought ‘hell yeah, this is it!!! Sick!’, but then I read it AND HATED THAT ONE TOO AAAHHH!!!

I rewrote this… so much…

But I never give up on my dreams, and you shouldn’t either! Persevere! Don’t give up on yourself! Here’s your daily motivation for the day! Keep writing even it makes you cry!!! :D

Anyway, so I wrote this third one, comprised of new stuff and the stuff I actually did like from the first two stabs, and it ended up being the one. Truly it is a Frankenstein of a fic lol. Regardless of all the reworking, I had a lot of fun writing this and enjoyed the prompt very much!!! I I hope you enjoy reading it just as much. :)

I’m sorry if the writing seems a tad too mature for the reader’s daughter in this, writing children isn’t my forte. ^^;

Due to the nature of this fic, IT IS 18+ ONLY!!! Thank you!

WARNINGS: Incessant mentions of abuse of all kinds for reader and mentions of physical abuse for her child!!! Reader is heavily scarred from said abuse and that’s a main theme in this fic so please avoid if that is upsetting to you. Also, though not the main focus, there are multiple mentions of child abuse in this fic, as well a part where reader goes off verbally on her child, so please be mindful of that as well! Other things of note: reader is a parent in this (which you can probably tell by the prev warning lol), reader getting hurt, blood, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome, being held against your will/isolation, mentions of noncon, sad family stuff :(

Diminishing rays of afternoon light splayed through the open window of your quaint living room, casting a comforting orange glow over everything they touched. The light gave the environment an ethereal and nostalgic feel, wrapping you in peaceful warmth as the sun sunk lower and lower. The loveseat you occupied was plush and inviting, and a mug of your favorite tea stood at the ready on the small coffee table beside you, steadily cooling with help from the last hurrah of winter blowing in gently from the outside. Besides the slight chill, the wind brought with it the heavy scent of freshly bloomed flowers, a delightful precursor to the oncoming spring.

Relishing the rare moment of serenity, you couldn’t help but wish that all your days could be this lovely.

You smiled down at your daughter who sat perched in your lap, happily flipping through the newest gift she had acquired from her Father- a thick picture book full of bright illustrations highlighting various exotic animals. As it lay sprawled across her tiny lap, her chubby finger pointed out each animal she took an interest in, her high pitched voice chirping away as she explained what she liked about the creatures. She got particularly excited when she spotted the page full of foxes, jabbing at the red one feverishly as she exclaimed “its daddy!”

Spotting the foxes began her down a path of assigning an animal to not just herself, but you as well. She didn’t find it fair that only her father had kin in the animal world, even though you pointed out that she technically did as well by sharing half the man’s blood. Your revelation did little to deter her, she wanted something new, something just for herself, and she wasn’t going to stop until she found her perfect soul animal. So she continued on, scanning each page in earnest until she found a creature that suited her.

She ended up picking a bunny for herself, supplying you with a comprehensive reason as to why she chose it. As she explained in great length, skimping no details, you couldn’t help but hold back laughter. She spoke as if she were a professor teaching a class, and you did your best to keep a straight face as she yammered on with her shoddy reasoning, deep down knowing she only picked a rabbit because of how cute they are.

After she was done waxing poetic about bunnies, she continued scouring the book, coming to a halt once she reached the wild cat section. She stopped with a gasp, beaming up at you as she pressed her finger firmly against one of the images on the page.

“Mommy this one is you!”

Your eyes traveled to the picture she was rapidly tapping, “An African Wildcat, huh?” You smirked down at the little girl in amusement, “Why did you pick that one for me?”

“Because it looks just like you!”

You chuckled at her enthusiasm, “It looks like me? How so?”

“It has marks just like you do!”

Her innocuous words sent a chill up your spine. Eying the stripes that crossed the cat’s legs, you felt a great unease begin to overtake your body. Her reasoning was not lost on you, the cats coat did quite resemble the jagged scars that covered nearly every inch of your body, and just like the feline in her book, your limbs were the most prominent location of said ‘markings’. You quickly shook your head, not wanting to dwell on it further. In hopes of moving on from the subject, the outpouring of words that flew from your mouth were jumbled and messy.

“O-oh, I see,” you stuttered, clearing your throat to steady your voice, “well you certainly picked a cute animal for me! Thank you baby, it was a good choice.”

She smiled at you innocently, a gesture that usually made your heart melt with affection. But as her tiny hands moved from the book to your arms, that smile did nothing but fill you with dread, the realization that you wouldn’t be getting out of this sticky situation hitting you like a brick to the face. 

“Yeah mommy, the kitty’s marks are just like these ones,” her stubby fingers gently traced the old wounds, a look of reverence reflected on her cherubic features. “They make you look like that kitty mommy,” her little voice cooed, “I like them a lot!”

Your muscles constricted at her words, a slight tremor coursing through you as you involuntarily tightened your grip on her. She took note of this, looking up at your strained features with a puzzled expression on her face.

“Don’t be sad mommy,” she spoke assuredly, “I really do like them! I think they are pretty!”

Her words burned you, scorching the inside of your frozen shell of a body, leaving you feeling sickly and discombobulated. The room around you started to spin in a hazy blur, a wave of nausea making you nearly wretch. Your breathing grew erratic as you tried to calm yourself, inwardly repeating that your daughter was just a child, a little girl barely four years of age who had an incredibly limited view of the world. Her words were not meant to upset you. Her opinions were coming from a place of total naivety.

Yet still, the mental assurance did little to help with the extremely uncomfortable position you now founds yourself in. It wasn’t as if this was her first time noticing your scars. She had mentioned them before, her curious mind trying to piece together the reason that her arms appeared different from your own. Each time she brought your old wounds up you couldn’t help but feel flustered, responding with weak explanations and misdirection to try and quickly brush off her questioning.

The marks came from a silly mistake, or a childhood accident, or from a careless moment when mommy should have been paying more attention. It was always excuses on repeat. How many lies had you told her on this topic alone?

But even if they were lies, it beat telling her the truth. You didn’t want to have to explain where the scars on your body actually came from to anyone, let alone a child, and especially not to your own daughter. How could you possibly word it gently, or in a way that she would understand, when you barely understood why you had them yourself? How could you look her in the eye and tell her that these markings were a permanent sign that you had been very, very hurt and that it was her own fathers hands that inflicted the pain?

Reliving the horrific moments that left your body in such a state was overwhelming enough on its own, but to also have to lay bare her father’s sins, relay to her the unsavory proclivities of a man who she idolized and adored, was not something you were keen on doing.

She didn’t know her daddy like you knew him. She was ignorant to the constant state of concern you lived in, unaware of the worries that plagued your mind and kept you up each night. All the troubles of the hell she had been born into were completely lost on the small, carefree girl.

But honestly that was for the best. You had made an unspoken promise the moment she entered your life that you would protect her no matter what. From the day of her birth onward it became your mission to keep her as happy and healthy as possible.

Ren had broken you, but she did not have to suffer the same fate.

At this point in her life, your daughter knew nothing of her daddy’s profession or ‘hobbies’, and you wanted it to remain that way for as long as possible, if not for the rest of her life. You dreaded each time Ren came home from an auction, terrified he may let casually slip too many details about his ‘lively client’ or that he would carelessly step through the door with the stains of his liaisons still littering his clothes. Your daughter was at an age where she was brimming with questions, and she was relentless in getting answers to each question she asked. Everything had to be explained in complete detail for her to be satisfied, drop the subject, and move on. She was a smart little thing, possibly too smart for her own good. You highly doubted a silly joke or wave of the hand would assuage her whirring mind should Ren grow too impetuous in her presence.

And should her questioning become too pesky, you fretted over what Ren’s reaction to it may be. The more you tried to avoid thinking about it the more you seemed to fixate on the topic, pondering just how much goading it would take from your daughter before his temper would rear its ugly head.  You, above anyone, had firsthand experience in just how volatile the man could be, the scars that littered your body a testament to his turbulent emotions and violent outbursts.

Looking back on it now, it’s a wonder you survived any of it at all.

Ren often told you he loved you, each confession spoken through honeyed words that spilled from his lips easily and often.  And while you didn’t doubt those words (you knew better than to, at this point), you also knew his sweet nothings weren’t merely a term of endearment, they also served as your curse. He loved you, but he also loved your fealty to him, your adoration and worship of him and only him. Should you not reciprocate his feelings as quickly or ardently as he expected, the mere thought of whatever punishment he would concoct was enough to send you into a debilitating panic attack.

There were few things he loathed more than when you flinched from his affection or if you exhibited any sign of distress towards his presence, especially after he had spent so many years going above and beyond to provide for you, devote himself to you. You had learned early on to keel any feelings of aversion you had to his advances, several of your more prominent scars a brutal reminder of that misstep alone.

 If your daughter uncovered the truth and saw her father for who he truly was, if she began to fear him the way you feared him, how would he respond?  If not only his partner, but his own daughter started shying away from him, what length would he go to to correct this behavior?

Dwelling on it made your skin crawl.

But perhaps all of your worries were asinine. Despite his inclination for cruelty, Ren had never so much as raised a hand towards your daughter, even when she did act up. If anything, he was overprotective of her, barely letting her move faster than a brisk jog lest she fall and hurt herself. He hated seeing his little girl experience even a modicum of physical pain, mentioning to you previously that were he able, he’d keep her locked up in a padded room all day and night to prevent any foreseeable accidents or injuries. Surely it was just his idea of a joke, but the insinuation still made you cringe.

It was almost comical, just how greatly the manifestation of his affection for her differed from how he showed his love for you.

His domineering nature shielded her from experiencing any true pain. Every scrape, bruise, and cut she ever received was superficial, nothing that caused major bleeding or left a lasting impression. She had no way of knowing what had been done to you to cause the scars that marred your form, the torment and hell you experienced with each slash, smack, burn. Hell, she probably didn’t even really understand what a scar actually was. All she knew was that her mommy and daddy had strange marks on their skin that didn’t follow any kind of set pattern, weird jagged lines and indents that her soft skin was curiously free from. The mystery of it all was as puzzling to her young mind as it was enticing.

However, some mysteries were best left unsolved, and just as with each other time she brought up this hot topic, you found yourself unable to look into her clear, bright eyes and tell her any semblance of the truth. She may have been forced upon you, but she was your daughter. You loved her, and you refused to be the one to shatter her innocence. You would keep her ignorant for as long as possible, shielding her to the endless nightmare of your daily lives, even if it cost you your sanity.

“Mommy,” her voice jarred you, dragging you from your thoughts, “mommy did you hear me? I said I think they are pretty!”

“T-that’s… I…” You stuttered, struggling to find the right words to say, your voice coming out much smaller than you intended it to. The room felt like it had dropped thirty degrees, your body twitching in response to the sudden chill.

“Daddy told me he gave some of them to you, like this one,” her pudgy, cold finger pressed into the faded heart that resided on your chest, the first of many indelible sins he had etched onto your form. Only the top half of the carved symbol was viewable above the collar of your shirt, so she tugged at the loose hem until she could see it in its horrible entirety.

“Daddy said he gave you this one because he loves you so much,” her voice grew quiet, a thoughtful look in her eye as they drank in wounds you wished you could forget, “Daddy loves me too, right mommy? You think he’ll give me a cute heart someday too?”

You felt as if you had been hit by a train.

“S-top,” the words were forced from your throat, airy and breathless, as if someone was wringing your neck to make them come out, “p-please, just stop talking.”

“What did you say mama,” your daughters sing-song voice responded as her fingers continued to trace and prod your scars, “You are whispering, is it a secret?”

“I told you to SHUT UP!”

As if following your command, your booming voice instantly silenced the small girl. Unused to such a violent outburst from her mother, her happy-go-lucky nature quickly shifted to one of alert, her tiny body going rigid as she stared up at you with fearful eyes.

Seeing her in such a state and knowing that you were the cause of it would normally have killed you inside, making you fall to your knees to beg for the child’s forgiveness. But right now, the thin thread that had been holding you together had snapped, and your words rushed out in a torrent you couldn’t begin to quell.

“Shut up, shut up, shut UP!” You seethed, clasping your hands to your ears to try and block out your own intrusive voice, “Just STOP TALKING about it! What are you even saying? Why would you ever want to look like this?!”

Tears started to flood your eyes, blurring the image of the girl who had quickly jumped from your lap and was now cowering before you. Through your bleary vision, you could see tears were brimming her eyes as well.

“You… You have no idea,” your voice warbled, shaking in equal parts grief and frustration, “You have no clue what you are saying, so just STOP IT. KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT AND DON’T YOU DARE SPEAK OF IT AGAIN!”

You slunk from the chair down to the floor, burying your face in your cold, stiff hands. The soft blubbering of your daughter could be heard through your own sobbing.

“I-I’m sorry mommy. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Hearing her broken voice began to shatter the spell you had been under, instant regret jerking you roughly back to reality. Your head sunk lower, your body scrunching itself up as tightly as possible to hide from this cruel reality.

Your screams were born from deeply buried feelings of hatred, tucked far, far away as a means of self-preservation. For a moment, you felt as if you despised your daughter, her existence tethering you to this wretched excuse of a life, binding you irrevocably to Ren. But as you lifted your heavy head, glancing up to stare into her young face, a face so very similar to your own, a face contorted in panic and sadness over her mother’s abrupt descent into madness… you realized it wasn’t her that you hated.

It was yourself.

Your daughter didn’t deserve this. She deserved normalcy. She deserved a father that didn’t pose a threat to her. She deserved a mother that wasn’t ruined by his hands. She deserved a happy and untroubled life, not to be stuck being raised in a barbed cage, navigating her way through life with nothing but the shattered remains of a battered woman to guide her.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked under the weight of your overwhelming emotions, snot and tears running freely down your ruddy cheeks and chin, “I’m so, so sorry baby…”

“What the hell is going on?”

You hadn’t heard the front door open, nor had you heard Ren’s jubilant greeting as he entered your home. He had no doubt been upset by the lack of welcome-it was one thing to be ignored by a child, but his doting wife? That was not something he was not apt to look past.

But surely any feelings of annoyance or frustration fled from his mind the moment he entered the room, his eyes falling upon your crumpled, messy form collapsed on the floor. You cursed his arrival, upset that he entered the scene at such a compromising time, right as you were struggling to regain an ounce of composure and properly apologize to the little girl who had done nothing wrong.

“D-daddy,” your daughter’s voice warbled as she barreled towards him, colliding into his waiting embrace. You wiped at your face in a desperate attempt to hide your previous outpouring of emotions, doing your best to avoid eye contact with Ren as his sharp gaze quickly flicked from you, to his daughter.

This had already become enough of a scene without Ren’s interference, it was best to try and begin damage control now. 

“Daddy I-I made mommy cry!” Tears continued to pour from your daughter’s eyes, her face twisting into a look of pure dismay. Her misguided admission of guilt made you recoil, knowing full well it would grant her no favors with the person she seeking comfort from. “I’m really sorry daddy! I didn’t mean to!”

After several endless seconds of silence, Ren spoke.

“… You made her cry?”

His voice was far sharper than it needed to be, further agitating the precarious state of affairs. In most cases he would have offered your daughter leniency, letting her get away with far more than she probably should. However that leniency was null and void if you ended up suffering in the process.  Ren could not forgive anyone that caused you any duress (himself, of course, being the exemption) even if that person was his own flesh and blood.

“What do you mean you made her cry? What the hell did you do to her?”

“I-I don’t know,” she wailed, a fresh wave of tears spurred on by the accusatory tone of her father’s voice, “I just told mommy I thought her marks were pretty and then she started crying! I wasn’t lying daddy, I like them! I think they make mommy look really pretty!”

“Her marks…?” Ren’s look of vexation began to dissipate as the meaning of her words donned on him. He lifted his arm, rolling up his sleeve to reveal his own scars to the little girl. Pointing a clawed finger to them, he leaned down until he was looking her in the eye, “You mean like these?”

As she nodded her head vigorously in confirmation, Ren tutted, “That’s the reason for all the water works? An innocent compliment started all this fussing?” He scoffed, shaking his head, “Isn’t that a little bit… silly?

You tensed at the sound of his barking laugh, your frown deepening as an amused grin spread wider across his lips. You wished that you could say it was shocking for him to have such disregard after finding the two of you in such an agitated state, but it was painfully in character of him to shrug off your misery and suffering as inconsequential.  How he could so nonchalantly normalize this hellish situation he kept you and your child ensnared in, you would never understand.

Your daughter was apparently sharing similar thoughts, as her face began to once more morph into a pre-sobbing scowl. She was no doubt wounded that her father was not offering her the comfort she was seeking, her emotional state already greatly weakened by her mother’s venomous tantrum.

To help quell another round of tears, Ren pulled the child closer, wrapping her up in his arms so that her tiny form was nearly enveloped by him.  “Shhh, no more tears angel,” he cooed sweetly, patting her head gently to appease her, “There isn’t any reason to cry, especially because… Well, you’re right! Mommy’s whole body is pretty, isn’t it? Her marks just compliment the beauty that’s already there.”

Slowly but surely, her tears began to dissipate. Hunched over shoulders loosened, and sniffles and hiccups gave way to even breathing. Like clockwork, her father’s gentle handling soothed her, the same touch that destroyed you offering her salvation.

As if under a spell, the turmoil that had overcome your daughter quickly began to vanish, her sobbing fading into quiet sniffles. Once she was fully calmed, Ren continued speaking, “That’s all you meant to say to mommy, right angel? I’m sorry she took it the wrong way, she’s probably just tired or hungry, you know how mommy gets. She’ll get over it in no time flat!”

Heat spread through your body at his flippant dismissal of your feelings, an indignant blush lighting your cheeks as you gripped your hands tightly at your side. Your previous emotional episode left you all but drained, but your will to fight back against his callous commentary could never truly be contained.

“In fact, I bet she is already over it now,” Ren’s voice took on a jovial tone as he directed his focus solely on you, “Aren’t you, pumpkin?”

With the ball suddenly in your court, you flinched as both sets of expectant eyes fell on you. Your own eyes darted from Ren’s piercing glare, down to your daughter’s wide-eyed look of unbridled hope. You felt much like the rabbit that had been caught by the fox, stuck in a lose-lose situation. Seeing him hunched over her small body as she clutched to him as a life line, openly concerned that her mother may once more reject her while her father remained a bastion of strength and understanding, left you reeling. Either you would get heated again and stay the villain, but possibly hold on to an ounce of your dignity, or concede to Ren and have yet another piece of your soul wither away and die-the price to pay so that your daughter could remain in blissful ignorance for another day.

“Aren’t you, pumpkin?” He repeated himself slowly, enunciating each word. The kindness in his voice serving only as a mask for the threat buried beneath.

“Y-yes,” you responded quickly, shooting them both a smile you hoped was convincing, “I am very sorry, baby. Daddy is right. Mommy is just… tired.”

A serene smile lit her face, your words placating her. Seeing her happy once more helped relieve a bit of the ache in your own heart, making the lie worth it.

“Good, good,” Ren affirmed with a nod, carefully detaching himself from your daughter as he stood, “but you know little one, mommy deserves some love too, don’t you think? She may have been in the wrong, but it’s not nice to make her cry like that. Why don’t you go give her a hug, hm?”

With no further persuading necessary, she quickly padded over to you, hopping on your lap with so much enthusiasm that it nearly knocked the wind from you. Her arms tightly latched around your torso as she smushed her face into your chest, rubbing it back and forth like she was trying to burrow beneath your skin.

“I love you mommy,” her voice spoke clearly, any hint of previous sadness long gone. You sighed, relieved that this dramatic chapter was over as you pulled your daughter closer to you.

“I love you too.”

During this show of affection, Ren had made his way behind you, slinking so deftly you hadn’t even known he had moved until you heard him chuckle softly behind you.

“This is what I like to see,” he spoke with a sickeningly dreamy sigh, “nothing makes me happier than when my two girls are happy.”

He placed his hands gingerly atop your shoulders, trailing them down until they rested on your arms. His thumbs pressed gently against the marred skin, rubbing in a small circular motion in an attempt to subdue you. His claws grazed your flesh, uncomfortably scratching against you as they snagged against your skin.

He planted a firm and lingering kiss to the side of your head, pulling away just enough that his lips grazed the shell of your ear. “There really was nothing to cry about,” he whispered breathily, his words quiet enough that despite your daughters’ proximity, she would have no chance of hearing them. “It’s almost unfair how gorgeous you are, scars and all. But you must know that, right my sweet pet? I tell you all the time.”

Ren took in a deep breath, releasing it in a shaky sigh, “Seeing these scars reminds me of all we have been through, all that we share. They are a symbol of our bond.”

One of his claws pressed down sharply, a small bead of blood pooling around the piercing. Leisurely he began to drag his finger up your arm, a thin red line following in its wake. You shivered at the burning sensation, but deigned to give him any reaction further than that.

“Don’t forget pumpkin, these pretty marks are a reminder of my constant love for you.” He chuckled softly, peppering a few kisses to the back of your neck while his claws slowly sunk deeper, “And right now I am feeling  terribly sentimental, so for old times’ sake, why don’t I add a few more to remind you just how precious to me you are~?”

[funficwriter]

A Wolf And A Snake (Wriothesley x Reader)

A little dark fairy tale I want to write~

A/N: GOOD GOLLY I'M SO EXCITED FOR THIS! First off, let me warn you that this is a multi-chapter story. Each one gets more and more dark, this is just the light stuff (in comparison to what I have planned). I will do my best to have C2 out ASAP, but as I'm a grad student, it might be a while. But be assured that I am very excited for this story, so I'll do my best to write loads for it!

Synopsis: Being a noble meant that marriage was a chess game, not an affair of love. Unfortunately for the pristine Balthazar family of Fontaine, Y/N has long been enamored with love and sought it out before their priorities. After her grey, boring time of courtesy and fake niceness, she meets Duke Wriothesley, who makes her yearn for the first time in her life, and it's the same for him. Threatened by the idea of losing this first, it seems they'll stop at very little to be together...

Warnings for this chapter: Sexist marriage system, yandere Wriothesley, kinda OOC Wriothesley, yandere fem!reader, mention of sexual blackmailing (1)

Chapter 1: A Breakthrough

As a child, you loved reading. Your parents would worry about it, because while being articulate and cultured were good and necessary, you were still a girl of one of Fontaine's royal families. They didn't want you asking questions you should not, but all they could do was limit your selection by a margin you wouldn't doubt.

You liked fairy tales of all sorts. They were so intriguing through several concepts. The one that got the lion's share of your attention was love. So many of your stories ended the same way that made you warm and fuzzy: The girl is reunited with the boy she loves, he declares the same, and they're together forever. How sweet!

When you asked further about love, you'd get one of two answers. The first was: "Look at your mother and father. That's love.". However, it failed to satisfy you; While they were courteous to each other, and even made contact every now and then, they were so... Cold in comparison to your fairy tales. The dissonance could confuse an adult, never mind a child.

The second was: "Love is essentially your marriage! Once you're a little older, you'll have suitors competing for your hand, and one will be your love!".

Marriage. A funny little word that you so desperately wanted to understand beyond the technical definition. Being the daughter of a baron, you were practically raised with the word more than your parents telling you that they loved you. While a baron was among the lower royal titles, it was still a part of Fontainian royalty. Ergo, you had to take marriage seriously. Of course, marrying above your father's rank (cough, cough- A high-ranked Count or Duke-) was a pinnacle of success.

When you came of age, many predicted that you'd fare well. You were quite pretty, and with the elite tutoring you have received, you were poised, graceful... You were ready to socialize not as the baron's cute daughter, but as the lovely young Lady Balthazar, considering suitors.

Only, they missed one thing. That perfect girl I mentioned would care about love, but being a good girl, she'd prioritize standing, finances, power and the like beyond it. While you liked being taken care of, that wasn't enough. You wanted to marry like the girls in fairy tales. For your world being flipped upside down in the most beautiful way. For love.

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

"Oh, remember Baron Balthazar's little daughter? She's now a maiden!".

"I saw her! She had truly inherited her grandmother's legendary beauty! I nearly choked when I first saw her-".

"And her mind is just as gorgeous! Earlier, we got to talk about Fontainian literature. I've never met such a cultured girl her age!".

It's not like you hated the praises. The party as a whole was just that: Okay. You met many unwed nobles, each being more shocked with you. With each one, your father beamed a little brighter, your mother squealed a little higher, to the point where you started questioning if there was a time where they were this happy with you.

"The nobles are enamored. Many are Dukes or Counts! This is going better than I imagined!".

Your mother turned to you: "Well, dear? Aren't you happy? Not many maidens have the opportunity to brag about bagging such important persons as you did.".

Again, nothing wrong with the (potential) suitors in particular. Everyone was nice and well-mannered, some even interesting to talk to. You'd love to have such friends, and that was your issue; Your feelings towards them did not go beyond: "I'd like being his friend.". No spark of attraction, no coup de foudre, nothing that could kickstart the feeling of love you wanted to chase, yet seldom had an idea of. With time, this would get boring. Would you really have to marry someone you found boring?

Alas, you knew the answer deep down. Unless the best suitor was also someone you fell for, you'd be lucky to go with someone you kinda liked. As you grew older, you realized that most marriages within your class were business deals, not affairs of love. Your own mother admitted that she married your father to consolidate the union between the two families.

When you were younger, you often asked her if she loved him. She'd say 'yes' without a second thought. Now, as you were heading into this, she'd tell you: "Yes, but what does it matter next to the benefits you enjoy today?".

"Mother, can I please go grab a cupcake? I didn't eat yet.".

"Alright then! Just remember, be sociable and talk as much as you can, and eat gracefully! Just like we said, and-"

"I will, I promise!".

The last thing you felt like was another etiquette lesson. At least you had some luck with food; There was one more chocolate cupcake left, and no one else seemed interested. Perhaps it would cheer you up a bit.

Celestia works in funny ways, though. Just as you reached out for it, another gloved hand landed on its other side, immediately stopping with yours. Despite your hunger, your attention diverted to the silver glove. All the men here were nobles, so he had to be too. You never saw one wearing chains and a wolf as an insignia, of all animals.

"Oh... Forgive me, I-"

Once you heard that baritone, there was no going back. You looked up to see a man quite unlike the preppy nobles you had to entertain all night. His scarred, rough appearance enthralled you more, for it was unlike anything you ever saw. And perhaps it was out of unfamiliarity, but you thought him quite gorgeous in comparison to the others.

"Oh, erm- Good evening, my Lord! Terribly sorry if I interrupted your break...".

"...No, no. It's fine, young lady, you can have it.".

"But... Um..."

The ensuing awkwardness was unbearable, but an idea emerged into your head. You split the cupcake, making sure it didn't crumb too much, then handed him one half: "Here you go, my Lord.".

He revealed a stunned expression, as if seeing something for the first time. Then he smiled and accepted the half. The grin was the most beautiful you saw on a man. It made your heart beat faster, and despite the fall, you felt stuffy and hot in that moment.

Just what the hell was going on?

"Um... May I inquire as to who you might be?".

"Of course, young Lady Balthazar. I am Wriothesley, from the Fortress of Meropide.".

You almost choked upon hearing his name. That's Duke Wriothesley! Is he? When you heard of him, you imagined a scary, much older man who didn't socialize much. On the rare occasion he did, he'd probably be left alone, with no social opportunity. And yet here you were, sharing a cupcake with him, accepting his leaning into you to listen... Among his tousled hair, the wolf ears perked your interest, too.

"I see! Forgive my surprise. It's just that I only ever heard of you."

"Don't worry, I understand.".

He was so... Appealing. You wanted those icy eyes on you. You wanted the excitement, the joy they cause by being posed on you. The only way to do that was have his attention. So you were done with awkwardness for now, and decided to try to chat.

"So, what brings you out on this fine night, Your Grace?".

"As you see, I spend most of my time in the Fortress. I don't socialize much, but I thought I needed a change of scenery.".

"That's good for the soul, I presume. How do you feel about the festivities?".

That grin was going to be the death of you, but better that than boredom. On one hand, you hoped you wouldn't be diagnosed with palpitations by the end of the night. On the other, you'd happily have a heart attack if it meant he smiled at you more.

"I should be asking you that. You're the star of this party, are you not? As soon as I walked in, all I heard was raving about the Balthazars' youngest daughter.".

"But there are many young, pretty girls walking around. Any of them could be the lady in question. How did you know it was me?".

"Accurate descriptions. I also heard the young Lady Balthazar is of the court's most empathetic. One sharing her favorite pastry sounds like that.".

You were having such a good time with him. You couldn't help laughing: "To be fair, I wouldn't want anyone to be deprived of chocolate when it's there.".

It was his turn to chuckle.

Please never stop laughing, or talking, or breathing. Please keep leaning my way. Please keep liking chocolate so we can share. Actually, stay with me for the rest of the night. Oh Focalors, please please please let him send Father a declaration of courting, and let him approve because I don't see a ring and I don't know why I like him so much-

As you carried on friendly conversation, something in you kept the train of thought going. You liked this man a lot... More than many other men you've met. More than any other man, maybe. He was funny, for one. He had no problem eliciting laughter from you. Like all the other nobles, he liked tea and music and engaged in politics. But he asked you lots of questions and heard you out. You even tried detecting a hint of surprise or disgust that you occasionally received, had you talked too much; None was found.

The real sealer was when he liked literature. But unlike the other nobles, he didn't just read the few titles that trended or made a name. He read, and so did you.

"This is the first time I've told someone I like lycanthrope literature and received a kind response.".

"And it's my first time seeing someone be appreciative of lycanthrope artistic culture, especially the books. Have you read Tale of a Toy-Making Werewolf? What did you think of the ending?".

He was amazing. He was awesome and charming and everything good. You were about to voice out your thoughts, until you heard murmurs behind you that maybe were meant to be heard.

"Not to be judgmental, but young Lady Balthazar has spent quite a bit of time with Lord Wriothesley...".

"Earlier she talked with many other fine gentlemen, like Duke Archandelle or Count Evermore... Why is she sticking onto him, of all people? I mean, he's a fine gentleman, but you know how it looks for a maiden...".

"Hehehe! I wonder what Baron Balthazar will think of this arrangement?".

His ears perked up at the gossip, and for the first time throughout your encounter, he scowled. He couldn't do so at them, lest your name gets dragged in worse mud. He liked you a lot, too much to make you get in trouble for him. But by the stars, how he wanted to. After years of stillness, he found someone who just... Understood him. Liked him off the bat, showed promise of the greater bond he's been looking for, for years. Then here comes those stupid 'good, high class girl' rules to halt your interaction.

Celestia, he looks terrifying and gorgeous.

"Listen, if you wish to take some distance, please don't feel ashamed about it. I understand how... Ruthless the rules for socializing are for a blossoming lady.".

"No.".

Your look towards the gossipers barely lasted a minute, as if they were barely worth your gaze. You looked back up at him: "I want to stay with you, but I'm not sure how. Oh. Wait...".

You took off to your mother's, and made it a point to say hi to Count Evermore again, just for good measure. A part of you couldn't believe you were doing this, screaming at you to abort the plan. You could get in trouble if you were found out, but hey, they wanted you to meet men and marry. You wanted to marry someone you loved. Maybe with time, you could find a middle ground, starting with this action.

"Mom, I talked to Count Evermore again.".

"Wonderful, wonderful, dear! Be sure to give some attention to Duke Arya, and-".

"I will, but I might faint from the stuffy air. I just need a minute in the powder room to fix myself up.

She didn't look too pleased, half expecting this: "But you were gone just now.".

"But I socialized, and I will continue once I'm back.".

"Well, alright then. I guess you should take a minute to look nice. Be back sooner than Duke Arya leaves.".

You took off, desperate to find Wriothesley again. You had to entertain a few nobles, but did so meagerly. You didn't want them. You wanted Duke Wriothesley, Lord of the Fortress of Meropide, Keeper of Justice and (not officially but kinda by existing) Advocate for Hybrid Rights.

Speak of the devil, he appeared in your vision again. He immediately lost interest in the art in front of him. You nodded towards the door and took off before anyone else could huddle you up.

Oh. Oh, he got it. You weaseled a way and some time for you. Truly, there's more to you than what meets the eye. He loved how such an angelic-looking, (supposedly) pure noble girl could lie as such to see him. The smirk at the thought did not leave his face.

"I know the roof is pretty private, Your Grace. Let's head there.".

"Actually, there's a stop I wanted to make first. Follow me.".

You both headed off to the kitchen. You were a little confused at the choice. It was still crowded, so you could get caught. He told you to wait outside for a bit.

"Wriothesley! We could get caught here!".

This was far too amusing. Far too much.

"First, you pay more attention to one man over everyone else in the ballroom, during your own coming of age party. Then, you lie to your parents to spend extra unchaperoned time with that man. After that, you call him by his first name in the same night. You haven't ceased to surprise me, little maiden.".

Your first instinct was to be ashamed. He had a point; Your behavior was not that of the pristine lady you had to be. But when you gathered your courage and looked up, he was smiling. Any other noble would either be fuming, ready to snitch on you, or blackmailing you through... Unsavory means. He smiled like troublemakers do when they carry something out successfully.

In retrospect, that's what you were doing right now.

"We will go to the roof, but just wait for me. For a few minutes. Since you got us out, I promise you won't get caught here. I'll be quick.".

He retreated into the kitchen. Your mind barely had the time to entertain scary thoughts of getting caught, because he came back just as quick, carrying a black package. You both took off for the roof.

As soon as you got there, you both sat down. Wriothesley undid the package in front of you. Right before the contents were revealed, he couldn't help his grinning, thinking of your reaction. Just when was the last night someone made him smile this much?

"What is it?".

"Your parents ought to look into better catering for their next party.".

In the box were cupcakes, truffles, cookies and many other chocolate desserts. Dark, white, mild, you name it.

You burst out into laughter, much to his initial confusion. You laughed so hard, you could barely speak, until you caught your breath: "This is the first time I hear of a prison lord stealing sweets!".

He realized the comic element and joined in on your laughter, unsure what surprised him more: The girl underneath the 'fancy' facade, or how much fun he was having. How he missed it. How he wanted to have it everyday. It was clearer and clearer; He could make that happen, if you were his. Once he courted you, (hopefully) got your father's approval and married you, you two could laugh and have chocolate and talk about whatever the hell you wanted everyday. Until you died. Forever.

After you calmed down, you ate and talked more about books. He offered to loan you some from his own library, and you might have just been book buddies. If it weren't for you remembering your mother's 'imposed' countdown, you would have forgotten the very concept of time. What did it matter when you finally felt your heroines' red cheeks, and excitement burgeoning deep within?

"Y/N...".

"Yes?".

Both of you laid down, even if it meant risking your looks. The tiredness that took over your bodies did not stop the bullet-fire chatting between you two. However, his sudden lower tone made you feel special. All through the night, he was your 'partner in crime', and you felt like he was going to let you in on a conspiratorial secret.

"Do you have a private mailbox? Can I have your code, and you can have mine?".

The question. His rough tone. His hair, swept over his face. Above all, the fact that he wanted to talk to you further.

Your little heart burst on the spot.

YES! YES! YES, HAVE IT ALL!

"Sure. But you know, our correspondence would have to be a bit... Er, hidden. Depending on what happens.".

"I'll be forward. I don't think I can carry on without the contact I had tonight. In this one night, I had so much fun, I found what I was looking for for years. I know you found me stealing sweets rather comical, but believe me, I have long renounced petty crime.".

"I noticed. Wouldn't it have been easier to just buy them? Or ask the chef? I mean, you're a Duke, I doubt they can refuse you.".

"Perhaps. Though I'll be honest, I partly did it because you looked so sad when they ran out of chocolate.".

Once again, you laughed. It was such a trivial matter, but it had you thinking; If he cares this much about it, what would he do for greater ones?

He stood up and held out his hand to help you. One more look at the stars prompted his thoughts.

"I'll be sending Baron Balthazar a declaration of courting. While I may be a little different from the other nobles he may be expecting, I am still a Duke, and an important component of Fontaine's justice. I'm sure that will help me. And then... We can meet more. That's a good start.".

"Wriothesley... Please, please do. Tonight was nothing short of magical. If we can make it happen, I'll be the happiest girl in all of Fontaine. And I promise I'll be a good wife, and-".

He chuckled: "Slipping back into your manners, I see."

Only when you made it back and went your separate ways, so as to not cause suspicion, did your heart fill up with your usual boredom and gloom. He was not by your side anymore. Soon enough, Duke Arya gave you his boring talk of how gorgeous you are and his accomplishments. Like all the other men, nothing like Wriothesley. You only saw him once more, where he barely paid attention to you.

If looks could kill, Duke Arya would have been mutilated on the floor. You thought you saw him angry at the gossipers, that was nothing. No, this was all the rage, all the offense that could only be expressed by something beyond human. His hands clenched until a loud 'CLANG!' could be heard across the roof. Wine, glass and a bit of blood fell onto the floor.

"Lord Wriothesley broke a glass!".

"Well, he's not entirely human, is he? I hear... His kind are prone to these things.".

That barely mattered to Duke Arya, and less him. He couldn't have cared less before he started talking to you. Now that he took your eyes, your words, all of you, he was only a bit worse than the criminals at the Fortress. Much later did he calm down and remind himself that one way or another, no man would be crassly taking you away from him.

[silversainz]

the 'big' name drop

Lewis Hamilton x mom!reader

summary: in which while having dinner. your daughter accidentally drops the big name on Lewis

warnings: none it's all fluff. I wrote this late so there is maybe some errors.

you and Lewis sat at the dinner table with your daughter who wasn't Lewis, and was in fact from your previous boyfriend who wanted no part in taking care of her and left you as soon as she was born. so whenever you met Lewis, he truly stepped up and started taking care of her as much as he could. she happily swinged her feet, while Letting small giggles, as she ate her food and listened to yours and Lewis's conversation about how the race went and more stuff that she didn't fully understand but she still listened and nodded her head acting like she understood.

about fourteen minutes into dinner the conversations soon died down. and now your daughter and Lewis spent majority of their time laughing and gigging while making funny faces to each other, while you just watched and admired this moment from afar.

you felt so happy that your daughter was finally able to Express herself while having such an amazing person in her life that would take a bullet for her. while you sipped on your water and sat the glass back down, you listened to their conversation a wide smile on your face, enjoying the way they spoke freely to each other. But as you went to take a sip of your water again the next words your daughter spoke made you and Lewis freeze up and look at each other with wide eyes.

"hey papa can you pass the potatoes? please" your daughter asked holding out her small hand trying to reach the potatoes but failing, in the end she eventually gave up and cussed her arms a pout on her face. When she got no response from him she looked at you both and immediately looked down embarrassed, because she had just realized what she said.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to you that" she was worried she messed badly, considering she's never called anyone that before. but Lewis was quick to hop off his chair from beside you and walk over towards her chair where she had her head down playing with her fingers nervously and tears welling up in her eyes.

Lewis kneeled down beside her, a hand on her back and one on her small hand, trying to reassure her "hey, shh love it's okay" Lewis pulled her into his embrace and tried to calm her down. "i-i-i didn't to c-c-call you that, p-please don't be mad" she cried out as she held onto him as tightly as she could

you jumped up from your seat and kneeled down beside him and her, rubbing her arm in comfort. "Shh honey it's okay. he'll never get mad at you" she slowly lifted her head from his shoulder but still hid her face by playing with his strings on his hoodie, Lewis gave her a small kiss to the forehead and wiped her tears off her face

"I won't call you that again, I'm sorry" the hurt in her voice made you want to tear up and by the looks of it, Lewis wanted to tear up as well. but he pushed them away and looked at you with eyes that you knew all too well and so you nodded your head, giving him the okay.

"no it's okay. you can call me that all you want. as a matter of fact," Lewis cleared his throat and that caused her to look at him. "me and your Mom have been talking, and well, I'll love it if you allow me to become something of an father to you" she tilted her head in confusion not quite understanding what he was asking and so you explained it more to her.

"what Lewis is asking, is will you accept him to become a father to you, as in he will take care of you, take you to school, help you with math. and well do things that most fathers do for their own daughters, he will treat you like you're his own" as you explained it to her, the excitement grow more and more in her eyes. and without you even needing it explain it more, she instantly jumped up into Lewis's arms, causing him to wrap his arms around her.

"Yes! Yes! I would love that" you and Lewis laughed at how happy she sounded and even laughed harder at how she grabbed onto your shoulder pulling you into their hug. shouting how happy she was.

"wait so I can call you dad right?" She asked again and looked at Lewis with curious and happy eyes "of course you can" and with that, she went back to hugging you both very tightly. you and Lewis looked at each other with Adoration in your eyes and smiled at one another, ready to start this new chapter together.

a/n: this ideal came to my head so suddenly and I rushed to write it. so I'm sorry if it's sloppy and not well-written. but a different and more detailed fic will be coming soon. once I finish my other fics I'm working on!

[roseofdarknessblog]

Irreplaceable (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Word count: 5 040

Disclaimer: english is not my first language, I apologize in advance for any mistakes

Summary: When you married Levi, you already knew he would one day be an amazing father. So when your daughters were born, you had zero doubts. Even Levi gained confidence in himself after becoming a father. But with the Rumbling and the birth of your third child, many things changed once and for all.

Irreplaceable

You swallowed hard, looking over your shoulder once again. Levi was only sleeping, he was alive. You just checked... he was breathing just fine and his pulse, although still a little weak, was regular. Hange did everything to ensure that he was going to be okay. But still. As you saw him there in such a terrible state, your mind started to wander to the darkest places.

He simply couldn’t die. No. What would you tell your children, if their father never came back home? His precious little girls wouldn’t understand what happened. Not at seven and four years old.

„Are you okay?“ Hange asked when they came back to your little improvised camp with more firewood. If it weren’t for the Scouts they killed to keep you safe and the stuff that was left after their deaths, you would have nothing. Only the still-soaked clothes you were wearing. „How’s your knee doing?“

You waved your hand. „It’s a little swollen, but okay. I’ll be fine,“ you assured them, rubbing your left knee. It hurt pretty badly, but nothing you wouldn’t be able to suffer through. You didn’t even know where and how you injured it. Only when you finally came out of the river, it was already hurting. „He’s fine, I just checked.“

Both of you looked at Levi before Hange nodded and sat down at the fire next to you. Staying awake and alert was the most important thing. There was still a possibility, that someone would come after you.

„I’m sorry you have to be a part of this.“

You shrugged, looking into the fire for a moment before you looked back at Levi once again. „If I ever see Floch again, I’m going to rip him apart like a piece of paper,“ you hissed, looking back at Hange. Even they, your lifelong friend, were surprised about what you just said. But after all, you had all the right reasons to hate him. And all his men as well. They wanted to kill Levi when he needed their help the most. And anybody, who even thought about hurting your family was your enemy and deserved to feel your anger.

You were just an ordinary civilian, not a soldier. You spent your life on your family’s little farm with your father, or on the farmer’s market in Trost with your mother. That kind of life was all you knew. But just until you met Captain Levi Ackerman and the two of you fell in love. It was a long and slow process, but the wait was so worth it. The stoic Captain, who was known as Humanity's strongest soldier, became the most treasured person in your life and after years of getting to know each other and dating, you became his wife and soon after the mother of his children. 

„What are we going to do, Hange? We can’t stay here.“

„I know, but... I need a little more time to think. And Levi needs to rest, we can’t move just yet.“

„I have to get back home.“ Hange nodded, reached for one of your hands, and squeezed it reassuringly. „My parents are surely taking the best care of our girls, but what if the Yeagerists go after them as well? What if they hurt them, just to lure me and Levi out from hiding?“

„No, no, no. Don’t even think about that, they’ll be fine, I’m sure. I know your dad, Y/N. He’s going to chase them away with his rifle if he has to.“ Something about that thought made you smile a bit. Yes, your father would do such a thing. His family was his biggest treasure and if anybody tried to hurt his wife, you, Levi, or his granddaughters, he wouldn’t hesitate to even kill to keep you all safe.

But still... he was alone and he wasn’t the youngest anymore. And if Floch with the others truly came to your parent’s house...

When they crossed your path in the morning, you were heading to the town for some mundane shopping. The day started out as usual, your girls were still sleeping and you decided to get the shopping out of the way as soon as possible. You never thought, that you wouldn’t return home. Floch with the Yeagerists cornered you out of nowhere and made you go with them.

For a long time, you didn’t know what they wanted from you – from Captain Levi Ackerman’s wife. Nobody bothered to tell you what was going on. Only when all of a sudden Hange joined you. From that moment, everything started to go downhill.

And now you were here – on the run, hiding in the forest and feeling more scared than ever before. Your husband’s life was still in immediate danger, while you couldn’t be sure if your parents and daughters were okay. And on top of that... you were carrying another little Ackerman nobody except your parents knew about.

„I’m pregnant again,“ you heard yourself say very quietly to Hange. It was only natural to tell your best friend about something this special. If they weren’t spending the last few months in Marley or planning the Liberio raid, they would already know and probably be as excited as when you were pregnant before. „Nobody knows, only my parents.“

Hange looked at you with a huge surprise on their face. „When did it happen? We’ve been away for almost three months and Levi was here with Zeke since our return.“

„I’m roughly five months along,“ you said, putting your hand on your belly. Every single day, you spent more and more time when you were getting dressed. Mainly when you went out to town. You wanted to hide your growing pregnancy belly as best as possible to avoid rumors from people you knew. „I first started feeling a little off before you all left for Marley for the first time. But I didn’t go to the doctor until Levi was home. And since then I didn’t really have a chance to tell him.“

You only saw Levi for a couple of short minutes, after they came back. That time was enough for a long hug and a couple of quick kisses. Levi asked how you and the girls were doing, and that was basically it. He was gone once more and when you saw him again today, he was bloodied and on the brink of death.

„So another member of Levi’s personal squad, eh?“

You smiled when Hange excitedly leaned closer and hugged you. „Yeah, another little Ackerman is on the way. Maybe finally a little boy.“

Levi loved being a girl dad, but you really wanted to give him a son as well. A little boy, who would hopefully look like him, even though your daughters both had their father’s hair and features. When anybody, who knew Levi looked at his kids, it was immediately obvious, that they were very closely related. And you loved this fact so much. You loved seeing your husband in those two little miracles the both of you created together.

„So that’s why you had such trouble getting into the saddle earlier? Or why you didn’t want the Yeagerists to touch you at all?“

You nodded, caressing your belly. About two weeks back, you finally felt the baby start kicking for the first time. Even now, during your third pregnancy, it was something magical. „Didn’t want them to accidentally see or touch my belly.“ Your loose black dress with a colorful long vest hid your pregnancy pretty well. But you still had to be careful not to draw much attention to your abdomen.

„I’m so sorry you got caught up in this situation. Now even more.“

„It is what it is,“ you said and looked over at Levi again. He was still unconscious, but at least he didn’t hear you talk to Hange. This was not the moment you wanted to announce your pregnancy to him. „I just hope all of this ends soon.“

Deep down in your heart, you knew Levi will be okay again. He had to be. He was your husband, after all. He had a family that needed him back home. Your girls needed their dad, who they loved and absolutely adored every waking hour of every day. He truly was their hero. And not because he was Humanity's strongest. But only because of how much he loved them and cared about everything that regarded his two precious little angels.

You knew very well Levi wasn’t just a cold and grumpy soldier. Not when he was with you. But seeing him become a father was something completely different. He even cried, when your first daughter was born. And he was just as emotional, happy, and grateful when your second daughter was born almost three years later.

„Not to sound grim, but I don’t think we’ll know peace in the near future,“ Hange said, stood up, and went over to Levi to check on him.

You worried about him to the point that you felt physically sick. Maybe because it was such a rarity to see him hurt. He came back unharmed even from the worst expeditions. And now here he was – completely dependent on your and Hange’s help.

And it was one of the worst feelings ever. Knowing how close to death he really was. Seeing him hurt and all bandaged up, while you sat just a couple of steps away with your third baby on the way. Thinking about Levi never knowing about the baby... about never seeing him or her...

A quiet sob escaped your mouth before you could press your hand to your mouth. Hange immediately turned around and looked you over with great concern. You really never felt so much fear and pain all at once. So much despair.

„I’m fine,“ you got out and tried to take a couple of deep breaths to calm yourself. Hange seemed pretty out of place when they saw your tears. From experience you knew, that they weren’t the best when it came to comforting a crying person. „It’s just...“

„Yeah, I know,“ Hange said and smoothed Levi’s hair down a bit. If he was awake, he would probably frown at them and pull away. But not now. „But try not to stress yourself too much, please. You have to be extra careful.“

Hange seemed way more tense than before you told them about your pregnancy. And that was understandable. They were the Commander and the person in charge now. You telling them about your pregnancy just put extra weight on their shoulders. Now they needed to look after Levi, you, and even your unborn baby.

„I’ll get you home, don’t worry,“ Hange said after a minute and came to sit back down next to you, wrapping their arm around your shoulders. „And I’ll keep Levi safe for you and your kids. I promise.“

You gave them a weak smile, leaning your head against theirs. This was a really bad time for crying, but you were an emotional mess during every pregnancy. Not to say in a situation like this, when death was lurking dangerously close.

The bright morning sun was shining right on the bed, where you were slowly waking up from another long and almost sleepless night. You almost forgot how it felt to have a newborn, who woke up many times and needed attention. Not to mention your other two kids waking up as well because they still weren’t used to their new home.

The Rumbling happened almost half a year ago, and the world was still upside down from all the consequences. You still remembered the day Paradis started shaking as the Wall Titans followed Eren on his mission to destroy all your enemies. When you parted from Hange and Levi, to return back home, you found your parents and daughters out on the porch of the farmhouse, watching the Titans in horror. The girls were crying like never before. And there was nothing you could do to calm them down and assure them, that you’ll all be alright. They cried for their dad and kept asking you when he was coming home to protect them.

And you had no idea.

When you kissed Levi goodbye, you couldn’t be sure you’ll ever see him again. For many weeks, you didn’t know what happened to him or the others. And for an even longer time, there was no way for you and your family to get to Levi. You spent countless amount of nights crying and worrying, which ended up causing preterm labor.

But despite that, everything turned out okay. Your baby was healthy and beautiful, and you recovered even faster than when you gave birth for the first and second time. Before you knew it, you were back home with your girls, who were in awe when they first saw their new sibling.

Even after your baby’s birth, it took another almost two months, until you got a chance to leave Paradis and travel to the place where Levi was staying and recovering. It was the Azumabito family, who helped you get to your husband. It all happened so fast. You and your parents had to pack up the kids and your whole lives in a couple of days and leave Paradis... probably for good.

And that was maybe for the best. After everything, many people, who knew you were Levi’s wife, acted harshly toward you. A lot of things in your homeland changed and not necessarily for the best. So leaving and starting over was probably a smart idea. Your kids deserved a much better life, with nicer people surrounding them.

Most importantly... they needed their father, just like you needed your husband.

Traveling across the ocean and finding a way to cross the burned lands which the Wall Titans and Eren left behind, took a toll on your whole family – your elderly parents, two spooked-out kids, and a still fragile newborn. And on you, too. Physically and also emotionally.

But in the end, it was all so worth it. When you saw Levi after many long months... an unimaginable wave of relief and happiness washed over you, making your eyes water almost immediately. And when your girls ran up to him, not minding even a tiny bit, that their father looked much different, your heart almost burst from love and gratitude. They didn’t mind his new scars, his blind eye, or the wheelchair he needed because of his leg. All they saw, was the father they adored and loved more than anybody else. They exchanged many hugs and kisses. Levi sat them both onto his lap, wrapping his arms around them and holding them close, whispering how much he missed and loved them.

Levi knew, that you and the girls were coming. He was happy to see your parents, too. The biggest shock for him was the roughly two months old newborn baby in your arms. Nobody except your late friend, who you still missed very dearly, knew, that you were pregnant. And it seemed that Hange didn’t tell Levi. So when he saw the tiny black-haired Ackerman baby, who was looking at him with bright blue eyes in complete amazement, he wasn’t able to say anything. Until the girls started telling him everything about their new sibling, who they loved greatly.

„Oh... good morning. What did I miss?“ you asked, when you finally found your whole family – out on the porch, enjoying a beautiful colorful sunrise. When you didn’t find Levi or the girls in their beds, it was obvious, that they were somewhere outside, having a peaceful and quiet morning.

„You came just in time, the sun’s coming up shortly,“ Levi said in a hushed voice. The baby, your third daughter, was peacefully asleep in his arms, while your four-year-old was sitting on his lap and hugging him, also half-asleep. Your oldest daughter was sitting on the porch right next to Levi’s wheelchair and was holding his hand – the one, which was missing two fingers.

Seeing them content and peaceful like this, made your eyes well up with tears almost immediately. You were all still adjusting to your new life and for the most parts, it wasn’t easy. That’s why moments like these helped you more than you would be ever able to express and explain.

You loved watching Levi with his girls. All the love between them was so pure and innocent. It was very precious to you and Levi as well. He had so many doubts about becoming a father. And they were all pointless, because the second your first daughter was born, he was already a natural. Always tending to his daughter’s needs and doing everything in his power, to give all of them everything he didn’t have growing up.

„The girls came into our room and since I couldn’t sleep anymore, I took them outside so you could rest a bit more. It was a rough night,“ Levi said, looking down at the sleeping baby.

„I love the newborn phase, because they are so tiny and adorable, and you are getting to know them for the very first time, but that constant waking up in the night...“

With a chuckle, you kissed all of them on top of their heads and sat down on the other side of Levi’s wheelchair, crossing your legs. The air was a bit crisp, a thin layer of fog was hovering between the trees of the forest behind the small house you lived in now.

„I think we should enjoy it because it’s probably the last time we are experiencing this phase.“

„Is it?“ Levi teased you.

You raised your eyebrows. „Would you like another baby?“

„You wouldn’t?“

„I would like another sibling,“ your seven-year-old said enthusiastically. She was a big help when you brought the baby home from the hospital for the first time. It was almost as if she knew, somebody had to take Levi’s place. „Maybe a baby brother for a change.“

„You know we can’t influence that, honey,“ you said with a smile.

„Maybe we could try... somehow...“ Levi suggested playfully, winking at you with his healthy eye. „After a couple of years, that is. No need to hurry. We need to properly settle down first.“

„And open your tea shop,“ you said excitedly, reaching your hand towards Levi and stroking his arm. „After many years, we can finally turn that dream into reality.“

„With me being like this?“ Levi asked in a much colder tone, looking down at you with a grim expression. But before your eyes met, he looked away and instead kissed both of his sleeping daughters. „Don’t think that would work out.“

„Why do you think that?“ He shrugged, almost as if he didn’t want to tell you what he really meant. Maybe because the girls was here. Or maybe because you already knew too well.

You and he already had some pretty harsh and painful conversations. They were all pretty similar – all of them ended in tears. Sometimes only Levi’s or only yours. Other times you cried both. For many minutes, even hours. In the middle of the night, or even during the day, when the girls weren’t around. Levi was still hurting – mentally and physically as well. And some days, the pain and sorrow got the best of him. He cursed, screamed, and cried. He even wished for death.

That’s how much he hated the current version of himself. He despised looking into a mirror – even now, many months after all of his injuries happened. Most of them were healed by now, but that didn’t make a big difference to him. Not even your words and tears could make him hate himself less.

„Nobody said, you would have to run the shop alone, darling. It can be a little family business. Bet my parents would love to help out, mom has a lot of experience when it comes to dealing with customers.“

Everybody on the farmer’s market back at Trost loved her – buying fruits, vegetables, homemade erb soaps, or any other good stuff from her, or just stopping by for a quick chat. With her cheerful personality, she was able to charm everybody. And probably would be no difference here. Or at least you hoped.

„And dad is already grumpy because he has nothing to do here. He really misses the farm and all the work around there.“

„I miss the farm too,“ your seven-year-old said. „All the animals and growing plants. The flowers we used to plant with grandma each year. It’s a shame we had to leave, I loved it there.“

„We can build something similar here as well,“ you said to her, trying to sound hopeful. But deep down in your heart you knew, that nothing would ever be the same. Having hope was a nice and necessary thing, but it wasn’t enough.

„Nobody said we have to stay. If we don’t like it, we can just pack up all our stuff and leave,“ Levi said suddenly, once again sounding a bit more cheerful. It was all just a pretense, you knew it. But appreciated his effort anyway.

All you could do was nod in agreement. But after that, watching the rest of the sunrise in silence was the best possible choice. A moment of quiet and peace was necessary for all of you. Just a moment of sitting down and enjoying something so simple and yet beautiful. Something, that always gave you hope, that the new day would be much better than the previous one.

Just after breakfast, your parents came over and took two of your oldest daughters for a fun day in the town. The house got quiet when you took care of the baby and settled her down into the crib. Instead of preparing lunch for you and Levi, you and he ended up outside on the porch again.

„Sorry I talked like that in front of the girls.“

„It’s fine, you didn’t say anything wrong,“ you assured him, pulling up a chair next to him and reaching for his hand. „I know it’s hard. For all of us. But we have to keep trying, Levi. We have to keep going for our family.“

Moving away from Paradis and starting over in a foreign country wasn’t even close to being easy. Not even you felt comfortable and content with your new life. But you had to try. You simply had to. For your parents and daughters, but mostly for Levi. You wanted to be his everyday dose of motivation and the reason he kept smiling from time to time.

And above all... you had to be strong for yourself. You were just as important as everybody else in your life. Because if you wouldn’t be able to function, everything else would start to fall apart as well.

„I’m tired, Y/N. Exhausted, worn out...“ You squeezed his hand, brushing your thumb over his knuckles. „I’m still angry with myself for not being able to function like before. For not being able to be the father, husband, and son-in-law all of you need.“

„Levi, you’re everything and much more, than all of us need. You’re still the same person I fell in love with. You may not look the same, but that’s not important to me. It never was.“ His quiet chuckle surprised you. But also warmed your heart and gave you hope. „And if you want to know... I still find you very handsome.“

„Well, am I a lucky guy?“

„Definitely.“ You nodded, leaning closer to him and hugging him around his right arm tightly, but gently at the same time. „I love you, and I always will. No injury can change that, Levi. You will always be the love of my life. The only one I want to share my life with. The one, who I know loves me back just as much.“

„Not just as much... but even more,“ he corrected you, the tone of his voice sounding warm and loving. „I know I’m blessed to have a wife like you and a precious family. Many people died so we could sit here like this and talk.“ He stopped for a second, taking a couple of deep breaths to hide how his voice was starting to break once again. Since you came here and reunited with Levi, you have seen and heard him cry more times than throughout your entire relationship. And it kept breaking your heart over and over again. „Despite that, I can’t seem to find the way out of the darkness. It keeps following me everywhere.“

„Because you keep being too hard on yourself. You still think, that being a soldier or a weapon for someone in power, is what made you matter. But we both know that’s not the truth. You’re perfect as you are... here in this moment. You don’t need to be Humanity's strongest soldier to feel important, admired, and loved. It’s enough for you to just be... Levi.“ You knew he longed for the power and all the abilities he once had. He wanted to feel like his old self so badly, that he kept forgetting what was truly important. „You changed and there’s nothing wrong with that. In here,“ you said and placed your palm over his heart gently, „you are still the same person I love and admire. I traveled across the world, which was almost burned to ash just to be with you again. And I’ll never regret that.“

You told him similar words many times before. But that was pointless, you would repeat yourself as many times as he needed to hear it, hoping he would take something away from them.

„You are still you, Levi.“

„But is that enough for you, Y/N? In this state, I can’t give you the life you and our girls deserve.“

„I don’t expect you to give me anything. All I need, is your presence in my life and in the life of our girls,“ you said, leaning closer to him and kissing his cheek. „If I had to, I would carry this on my own. But I really, really don’t want to. I want to share everything with you, just like before. The good and the bad as well.“

„I know you could do this all on your own. You did it for the last couple of months, and you did brilliantly. Enduring an entire pregnancy without me even knowing, giving birth, and traveling with three kids across this forsaken world just to... find me again... I...“

„I did it for us, darling. For our family, our future.“

It was hard and even traumatic in some ways. But all of that was over now, everything was okay again. Levi was right there beside you, and your family was complete once more. Nothing was perfect, and it never will be. Finding true happiness was always difficult, and in this new world, it seemed close to impossible. At least for now. Many things were changing for you and for the whole world as well. So it was probably normal to feel this way.

„And I would do it all over again if I had to,“ you added in a reassuring tone, holding Levi’s hand and squeezing it reassuringly.

„I know you would. That’s why I love you.“

Before you could say anything back, both of you heard a faint cry from inside the house. With a quick kiss, you left Levi outside and hurried after your baby. All it took, was a diaper change and a few kisses before you could return to Levi, your youngest daughter once again contently resting in your arms.

She was a carbon copy of her father, just like her older sisters. With Levi’s silky black hair and his adorable nose, she was a true Ackerman. And Levi was all about that, just like when he saw all of the girls for the very first time.

„Everything okay?“ Levi asked, reaching for his daughter immediately.

You nodded with a smile, carefully handing him the baby. It looked like she became immediately happier when Levi cradled her against his chest and kissed the top of her head. She cooed quietly, looking up at her father with eyes wide open. Almost as if she was seeing him for the very first time.

Levi’s touch and voice always calmed the kids down. His mere presence was enough for them to feel safe and loved. They missed him very dearly every time he went on an expedition or had a lot of work to do. Sometimes, the girls even waited for him to come home from the HQ, just to see him for a couple of minutes or get a goodnight kiss from him.

„She’s so precious,“ he whispered, kissing the baby’s hair once more and offering her one of his fingers to hold. „To think I almost didn’t get the chance to meet her...“

„No, stop! Don’t talk like that, please.“ He wanted to say something but decided to stay quiet and instead whisper to the baby how much he loved her. „You know... this is when I find you the most irresistible.“

„Crippled?“ he smirked.

„Levi!“ you scolded him and hit his shoulder playfully.

When you heard him laugh a new spark of hope flared up in your heart. Maybe everything could be okay once again. Not today or tomorrow, but eventually. You both had something very precious to fight for and keep trying. You went through so many challenging things together and apart as well. But love always helped you find your way back to one another.

„I’m glad I have you all,“ he said after a while, his eyes still glued to his daughter, who was carefully watching his face. „My irreplaceable Ackerman girls.“ With a tiny smile, he leaned over to you and gently grabbed your chin. „I’ll keep fighting for you all. With everything I have left. I can promise you that, Y/N.“ 

„Only if you let us fight for you... my irreplaceable Ackerman,“ you teased him, before brushing your lips against his in a long and loved-filled kiss, which said more than a hundred words ever could.

[bbimharuuu]

Reader in Yandere! HOTD 4

Hi lovelies 💕 Sorry for not updating fast enough, I was in the middle of an exam week so I tried my best to update. Here's part four, hopefully I can finish the requests and asks in my inbox before starting on pt. 5! Enjoy :)

‌Seeing all of your family member standing there was surreal for you. Your father was nowhere to be seen but Daemon said that he's busy with other businesses.

‌You ignored the growing suspicion inside of you, not wanting to look uneasy when such a happy atmosphere was engulfing the family.

‌Yesterday the servants helped you pack your stuff with Ser Criston Cole guarding. You don't know the man too much, but it seemed he's close with the royal family, especially Queen Alicent's family. Now standing next to your step-mother, gone was the calm and soft look he gave you yesterday. Instead it was replaced with a hard and cold gaze as your step-mother walks slowly to you.

‌She smiled at you, but it always looks the same. Tense, not reaching her eyes, just for formality. But now you noticed an underlying fear in her eyes as she placed a small box in your hands. "Take this. It seems I have...overstepped my boundaries."

‌You tilted your head in confusion. Never once was she rude to you, so you're mentally asking yourself why she's acting this way. But before you could ask her, Rhaenyra placed her hand on your shoulder, turning you around as your step-mother was escorted away by guards.

‌"How are you, my child? It seems that lady has given, or to be more exact returned one of your belongings."

‌"Mine?" You asked before opening it. It was one of the many necklaces your step-mother wore. You remembered your father giving her this for her name day, but why was this given to you? "Why did she gave me this necklace?"

‌Rhaenyra sighed, brushing away locks of your hair behind your ear. "It's far too complicated of a story to tell my child. Let's just say that your mother was...still is my most cherished friend. Losing her is one of my most deepest regrets, and I will not lose you too."

‌You nodded, playing with your fingers as you listened to Rhaenyra. It seemed that your mother was very close to the royal family, but it's still a mystery to you. "Why? Why was she close to you?"

‌"Because she has always been with me even before my mother died. I would like to tell you all of the stories, but now is not the time. When you arrive, then I'll tell you stories about your mother," Rhaenyra smiled before pushing the box to you. "Keep this safe [Name]. It's a gift from your mother before she died."

‌Now that caught your attention, glancing back at the necklace before nodding to Rhaenyra. She hugged you before ushering you away to get ready to leave. You look back towards your siblings, all standing there with nervous looks. You didn't feel sad for leaving them, maybe you'll miss their presence but you know you'll be friends with people. You raised your hand slowly before waving at them, walking backwards before getting ready to leave.

‌The family decides for you to travel using Corlys ship before you try to ride a dragon, claiming it was too dangerous if you have no experience. You did see them in the distance, feelin in awe at their presence and size. Daemon promised he'll help you get used to riding dragons when they'll be back, maybe even letting his daughters help you when they claimed their own dragons.

‌Corlys beamed with happiness as he ushered you to his ship, flaunting it as he explained the history and the significance. It was very interesting to you as you looked around, asking questions here and there to quell your curiosity. Rhaenys soon came along, who chided her husband for already overwhelming you too much. But you reassured her that it's fine, that it's very interesting for you to learn.

‌You heard Rhaenys mumbling something along the lines of 'Always curious, just like her mother.' You kept quiet though, not wanting to take your eyes off the sea as the ship sailed away.

‌Turns out, it was truly boring for you to see only sea everywhere you look. You huffed as you sat down next to Rhaenys. You remembered the box of necklace in your small bag, grabbing it before putting it on the table. "I want to know my mother, please?"

‌Rhaenys chuckled before lowering her book. "What do you want to know? It seems that you're almost bursting because of the questions inside your head."

‌You opened the box. "I want to know her relationship with you, all of you. My father told me she died in childbirth, but it seemed it was all lies. He never told me about her house, her family, anything. I've never been so...interested with her life before any if you came along."

‌Rhaenys smiled softly at you. "Your mother is special to all of us because many different reasons. For me, it was because your mother was always fighting and being a brave little thing. Not wanting to back down from a challenge. Yet she still kept her grace as a lady. She grew close to my family after she grew close to Viserys and Rhaenyra."

‌You bit your lip. So your mother had a very close relationship with the family for a long time. It seemed that they cherished her so much, yet they never knew much about her death. "What about her death? Did she run away from all of you?"

‌Rhaenys looked away, face growing tense. It was quiet for a long time, only the crackling fire from the candle was heard. "Your mother's house was not a well known one. One day it collapsed because the Lord was not managing it very well. Your mother was sent away to marry your father to pay the Lord's debt."

‌You grimaced about the fate of your mother. Rhaenys exhaled softly before continuing. "It was shocking news for all of us. We went to ask the Lord of the house for her whereabouts but he vanished into thin air. We searched for her all the time yet we never succeeded. We only knew about your whereabouts because a servant came forward, claiming that your mother was living amongst them."

‌"Amongst...them?" You frowned. Odd choice of words, but maybe the servant chose the wrong words to tell that your mother was still living.

‌"Tell me," Rhaenys tapped her fingers on the table. "Have you ever met a servant rushing around to work with you or near you?"

‌You looked away, trying to remember if any servants did that. Most of them kept their distance with you, only a few came to your aid sometimes. You shook your head, glancing back at Rhaenys.

‌"It seemed you have forgotten about a certain maid that once came to your help when you cried in the gardens?"

‌Your heart stopped, looking back at Rhaenys in suspicion. How did she know about that incident? You cried there because you were tired of living there as if your a burden. That was back then before you accepted your fate, maybe when the birth of your new sibling was still new. You cried in the gardens at night because no one was there. Until a servant came up and comforted you with kind words and given you a few snacks. You don't remember her face, but you did remember how close your hair colour was with each other.

‌"You're not—you don't mean..." You stammered nervously as you played with the box.

Rhaenys nodded. "That servant was your mother, [Name]. She escaped from her room before she was inevitably killed by your father."

[lemmetreatya]

car washer!avdol who loves his job because of the flexible hours it gives him. being a part time Only Fans creator doesn’t bring in all the money so he helps wash cars at his father’s dealership.

hes been washing cars before he knew how to drive so doing so is second nature to him. whenever locals or frequent customers come, they always make sure its him who’s buffing up their rides.

“i only want my car cleaned if mo’s doing it!”

and his father will assure them with a hearty laugh that that’s the case.

“it’s his only job!” he’d muse back, the irony in his words undetected.

but then on some weeks, car washer!avdol‘s father would take a few days out and leave the garage solely to car washer!avdol. these are the days they dont do walk-ins so car washer!avdol knows hes unlikely to be disturbed during this spare time. car washer!avdol likes to film impromptu photo-shoots and car wash scenarios that he posts to his Only Fans. they’re not high quality — 720 at best — but they seem to be the most receptive content on his site.

but on one of his off days, car washer!avdol‘s father tells him he has someone who’s cashed in a favour; a good friend of his wanted to get his car washed and was having his daughter to deliver it off. of course he agrees because what harm in there was washing one extra car? More so, who was car washer!avdol to say no to his pops?

but when you arrive to the dealership with your father’s car in tow, faux minx jacket and large square sunglasses on, car washer!avdol sees you for what you truly are.

“ive seen your stuff by the way.” you say as you lean against the pillard wall. car washer!avdol only gives you an amusing look before asking:

“what stuff?”

“Your Only Fans stuff, what else?”

car washer!avdol is slightly thrown off because no one he knows in real life has confronted him about this before but once he hears your tinkly laugh, his interest is piqued.

“don’t worry, your secrets safe with me. if anything i find it kinda cool.” you say.

car washer!avdol has an inkling for where you’re taking this conversation but he doesn’t say anything just yet — in case his mouth betrays him.

stepping forwards towards your father’s soapy car, you stand just besides car washer!avdol with your arms crossed.

“you done anything apart from solo content?”

car washer!avdol shakes his head.

“never. but it’s always been on my list to do meet ups or at least film content with others.”

your eyes almost sparkle as you lean over your father’s car to give car washer!avdol a hooded look. he wants to tell you your clothes are getting wet from the soap but something tells him that was the intention.

“well, why don’t we film sumin now?”

it was his idea, but car washer!avdol has you sprawled out over the hood of your father’s car as he fucks into you from behind. he has his phone filming you both from the side and yours filming from inside the car on top of the dashboard.

your moans are pornographic as car washer!avdol’s thick cock hits all the right places and more! you can’t believe how deep he’s surging into you and a good portion of your brain urges you to tap out.

“i-i-i-ist…fuck…so fuggin’ full.”

words barely leave your throat whole as youre cheeks are pressed against the soapy bonnet of your father’s car. each thrust earns a grunt out of car washer!avdol‘s mouth — every one dragging you deeper and deeper into wanton pleasure.

car washer!avdol doesn’t even let you come down from your first orgasm before he’s tugging you over onto your back, your ankles adjacent to his ears.

“so…fucking…”

he cant even finish his words, car washer!avdol feels so hazy delving into your wet fruit that he almost looses his grip and makes you slip off the hood! luckily, you catch yourself in time and car washer!avdol buckles his legs to support you but it doesn’t take long before he’s finishing inside of you with a low and almost inaudible gasp.

car washer!avdol sends you back to your father with a clean car. he however, cannot say the same for you.

[hoedamn-eron]

he found the box of condoms - part 1

Your best friend, Paul, is ranting to you about his father possibly dating someone. It's you, he's dating you.

Warnings: 18+. Drinking happens with some spiciness but nothing explicit and it's all good and consenting (unprotected at first but then it's not, wrap it before you tap it). Age gap, but it is appropriate/legal. Some swearing. I have never seen nor read Dune (yet), so there may be some inaccuracies (Duke and Paul being OOC, stuff like that), but it's Modern!AU anyway. Mentions of taking drugs but not actually being on them. Slightly proofread. Edited on 27/09 because I stupidly mentioned reader being a daughter when it’s a GN fic 😑 Word count: 3,376 GN!Reader, no use of Y/N.

Inspired by BFD by @abelslittlebunny (blog no longer exists, I'm so upset!)

Part 2

“I think my dad is seeing someone.”

Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes widened, looking at Paul, your best friend. His declaration had really taken you by surprise. “Pardon me?”

“I found an open box of condoms in his bedside drawer.”

“Why are you looking in his bedside drawer?”

Paul ignored your question, looking at you with a mixed expression of frustration and confusion as he paced back and forth in front of your place on his (his dad’s) couch. “He’s seeing someone, or someones, and I don’t know why he didn’t feel the need to tell me that he was even dating again.”

It’s you.

You’re the someone.

It had started last summer, after Paul’s graduation, before he was going away to Law school. You had been away travelling Europe since you decided college wasn’t for you (unlike Paul, who obviously excelled at everything he did), and you were visiting your parents, who were throwing yet another summer barbeque; this time it was for Paul’s departure to Harvard Law. You had surprised him, not telling him you were back from your most recent trip to Portugal.

“What the Hell are you doing here?” Paul had asked, wrapping his arms around you in a too tight hug.

“As if I wouldn’t be here for you when you’re going off to Law school!” you cried, hugging him back just as tightly. “I’m so proud of you.”

You and Paul had been friends and neighbours since you were thirteen, when he moved after losing his mother. His father, Leto, had been a refreshing change to the neighbourhood, being that dad that the mothers were fawning over at school drop off – and as you got older, you couldn’t blame them. He was incredibly good looking and had an impressive beard that made all the other dads jealous (including your own). He was truly the silver fox that made everyone fall to their knees (you included, most recently).

You had harboured a harmless crush on Leto since your junior year of high school. You’d always find yourself blushing whenever he asked you about your day at school or if you were hanging out with Paul, he’d ask if you both needed anything. Just with any interaction you had with him really. But he was your best friend’s dad. You knew it would pass, probably when you started travelling.

And it did pass, until you arrived home for Paul’s barbeque, intending to stay for a little while and start to settle down. You were in your mid-twenties, you had had your fun. You wanted to start saving up for your future, and your mother had managed to get you a job at her shop helping with customer orders. Leto had stopped by to drop off some food that your dad was going to cook, and you were making fresh lemonade in the kitchen.

Amidst the conversation he was having with your father (which you weren’t fully paying attention to), you caught Leto’s eye.

All of a sudden, he wasn’t just your best friend’s dad. He was an insanely good looking, single, man, who was looking at you differently to what he used to do. You held his gaze for a moment longer before turning back to the lemonade, biting your lip to stop yourself from grinning like an idiot. He was someone that you could admire from afar; you couldn’t have him. Again, it was just your fleeting crush coming back after not seeing him for so long.

But he would call you names that he hadn’t before, like sweetheart, and honey. He seemed to make more of an effort to talk to you about your trips around Europe, and how you were home for good now, planning on working with you mother until you could afford a place of your own (you were only a few hundred away now, which would make dates a little easier). The way he spoke to you made your chest feel warm, and you could feel yourself getting all tingly. He had such a nice smile, you’d always thought so, and he was smiling a little more than he used to as he spoke to you, listened to you.

The next day, as you stepped outside to go to work, you caught him mowing his front lawn. You stopped short, at risk of fainting at seeing him hot and sweaty, and wearing a tank top and shorts, sunglasses perched on his nose. You held tightly onto your car keys, trying to even out your breathing as Leto spotted you. He grinned, stopping mowing to give you a wave.

You barely had the coherency to give back a shaky smile and a quick wave back before you darted to your car, refusing to make any more eye contact. You drove away quickly, not giving much caution to your surroundings as you drove away, fanning yourself as soon as you were out of your neighbourhood, your own body hot and clammy. You blamed the weather, and not your best friend’s dad. Definitely the weather.

After that day, you didn’t see much of him. It was as if he was avoiding you, and you berated yourself. You probably weirded him out with your actions towards him, acting like a hormonal teenager. Of course he was just being friendly, you had looked too much into it and now you’d made him uncomfortable. He’ll be talking to Paul about you, asking him if you were on drugs or something like that. You needed to get a grip of yourself.

But it was so hard to do when he was so good looking.

With Paul’s departure to Harvard, you spent less time at the Atreides’ house, which was good enough for you. At least you could keep yourself in check, making sure this harmless crush goes away. You had even downloaded Tinder, since you concluded it had been that long since your last rendezvous, was what was sending you into a spiral when it came down to Leto Atreides.

One week after Paul left, on a Saturday night, you were home alone as your parents were out of town for the weekend. You spent the night scrolling left and right through Tinder, eating your body weight in snacks and a terrible Netflix film on in the background which you hadn’t paid a scrap of attention to. You were contemplating going out last minute just to have something to do when the doorbell rang, causing you to jump slightly. You sigh as you stand, padding your way to the front door, wary since it was late at night and dark out. Only familiar people and murderers come knocking at night.

Your eyes widen as you see Leto through the glass in the door, a bottle of wine in his hand. Your brow furrows as you open the door, looking between his gorgeous face and the bottle of wine. “Hi, Leto.” You lean lightly against the door as your eyes settle on his warm, brown ones. “What brings you over?”

Leto doesn’t answer straight away, swallowing nervously as his eyes trace over you. You were suddenly self-conscious, since you were only wearing a large, oversized t-shirt with a pair of shorts. Leto seems to remember where he is and he lifts the bottle of wine. “Thought you could use some company.”

You hold back a smile as you move aside, letting him into the house before you closed and locked the door behind you, remembering the murderer comment.

“You’re okay on your own?”

You walk through to the kitchen, Leto following you, before working on opening the bottle of wine from the bottle opener he knows is in the drawer, you find some wine glasses in the cupboard. You nod at his question, reaching for the glasses. “I’ve been on my own before. And I am twenty-five, Leto.”

You hear him chuckle behind you, the sound of the cork popping lightly from the neck of the bottle. “I forget how old I am.”

You give a soft smile as you close the cupboard, both wine glasses in hand. “You’re hardly old.”

“Coming from you, that means a lot.”

You hand him a glass, your fingers lightly brushing against each other for a brief moment, causing a tingle to go up your arm and down your spine. He pours a glass for each of you as you tell him, “Don’t sell yourself short, we all love a silver fox.”

Leto lightly snorts into his wine glass, shaking his head before taking a sip. “You’re flattering me.”

“You did over a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon,” you said, grinning at him before taking a sip of your own glass. “Come on,” you motion for him to follow you back to the living room, which he does without pause. “I was just watching…whatever this is.” You wave nonchalantly at the TV, where the cheesy film was still playing and the leads were sharing a kiss in the rain.

“I didn’t think you would be into this kind of thing.”

“I’m not,” you reply, sitting on the couch and folding your legs underneath yourself, Leto sitting next to you. “It was background noise. I was…scrolling through Tinder.”

You said it quietly, almost embarrassed at being caught doing it, even though you were a fully grown, single, adult.

Leto groaned, the sound causing you to involuntarily shiver lightly. You took another drink of your wine so you had something to think about other than the noises he made. “I’ve done that before, it never got me anywhere.”

“You?” you asked, your eyes wide as you look at him in amusement. “You were on Tinder?”

Leto laughed as he looked at you with a pointed look. “Even someone as old as me wants some company sometimes.”

You roll your eyes but you feel a blush crawling up your chest and neck to your cheeks. You sip at your wine to hide it. “You’re not old. And anyone would be lucky to have you, Leto.”

You chatted into the night, soon finishing the bottle of wine. You were feeling a buzz, on the verge of being tipsy but not quite there. You were a little more giggly and chatty, your earlier embarrassments about being around Leto forgotten.

After a while, it was quiet between the two of you before Leto let out a small chuckle. “I thought it would have been awkward to be here.”

You look at him curiously. “Why?”

Leto cleared his throat as he looked down at his wine glass. “I initially came here to apologise.”

You raise an eyebrow as you took the last gulp of your wine, nerves kicking in tenfold. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Leto replied, looking at you with an intense look on his face. “I’ve been…I’ve been very rude to you recently, and I’m sorry about that.”

You shook your head, placing your wine glass on the coffee table. “I hadn’t even noticed.”

You had.

Leto was already shaking his head. “No, you have, you’re just being polite. It’s…” he trailed off, before rubbing a hand down his face with a deep sigh. “I’m not sure how I’m supposed to say this without coming off as a complete pervert, but I distanced myself because…because I’ve been feeling inappropriate things about you, and I shouldn’t be.”

You stopped breathing. You stare at him, frozen to your spot on the couch. Was this real? Were you dreaming? Had you actually fallen asleep on the couch and now this was what your imagination had come up with? Wine and confessions on the couch on a Saturday night? Had your slightly tipsy mind started hallucinating?

Leto took your silence as a bad thing and tried to explain himself more. “You’re my son’s best friend, and my neighbour’s kid, my friend’s kid, and it’s completely unacceptable and I know I shouldn’t have come over – “

Your hand on his silenced his rambling, him looking away from his wine glass and at you with a slightly helpless look. You traced your finger lightly on the back of his hand, not really realising you were doing it. You gave him a small, closed lipped smile. “It’s okay. Really.”

Leto’s breathing was a little laboured, but he ended up giving you a firm nod. “Okay.”

He paused for a moment before tilting back his wine glass, downing the remaining wine, removing his hand from yours.

You scrambled to get your next words out, in an unusual boost of bravery. “I’ve actually been trying to avoid you too. For the…same reason.”

He froze, staring at you from the side. He had stopped breathing, you were sure of it. You bit your lip, suddenly feeling sober and braver. You shuffled towards him, your eyes watching each other like hawks. He reminded you of a hawk; proud, sharp. His eyes followed you, but he didn’t move away. You found yourself swiftly swinging your legs over his lap, straddling him, your hands landing on his shoulders.

You held back a whimper as you felt his warm hands land on your exposed thighs.

This was really happening.

You played with the curls which sat at the nape of his neck. “Is this okay?”

Leto nodded, not trusting himself to be able to talk. His eyes closed as he leaned forward, his forehead landing on your sternum. You felt him take a few deep breaths before he said, “I can’t believe this is happening.”

You giggled. “Well, we’re both consenting adults, albeit a little tipsy. We can do whatever we want.”

Leto looked up at you, an eyebrow slightly raised. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

You were already nodding, biting your lip as you look up at him. “Yes. Absolutely, yes.”

Your night was filled with heady moans and whispers of Leto’s name, as if he was some sort of prayer. He set your body on fire, you’d never experienced anything like this before. Your body had arched against his, his heartbeat against your chest, and hands roamed all over each other, never settling on a place for too long, trying to get as close as possible. It ended what you felt like was all too soon, with a cry against his lips, your whole body shaking underneath him. But he had trailed his lips down your exposed neck, only for the dance to start again.

It had started off as casual, until Leto admitted that he wasn’t actually seeing anyone else. But neither were you. And it was fantastic, Leto treated you better than any other ex-partner had in the past. And the hiding it from others had given you a bit of a thrill for a while, having to sneak next door when you told your parents you were going out.

But that had all come crashing down now that his son had found the open box of condoms that you had purchased last week. You’d been nervous ever since Paul came back to visit – his first visit since you and Leto became an item. And now, you felt like you were just treading water, keeping this a secret from him.

“I’m just…I’m a little hurt that he didn’t feel the need to tell me.”

You heart broke for him a little at the crestfallen look on his face. “Maybe he thought you would be a little apprehensive about it.”

He definitely would be.

Paul shrugged. He stopped pacing and sighed as he flopped onto the seat next to you, burying his face in his hands, his elbows on his knees. “I’m not sure how I should approach him about it.”

“Because you found out by going through his drawers?”

Paul groans your name. “Stop, okay, that’s not important here.”

“He’s a grown man, Paul,” you say. “You’re not a kid anymore, you don’t even live here. Maybe he just finally feels ready to start seeing people again.”

Paul stops, finally lifting his had from his hands to gaze blankly at you before his eyes narrow, scrutinising you. “What do you know?” he asks after a few moments of silence.

A chill descends down your body. He can’t know, not yet. It’ll send him spiralling, knowing his best friend was with his father. You had to break it to your parents first, God that was a day you weren’t looking forward to. You just shake your head at Paul, deciding you had taken too long to answer. “Nothing!”

“You hesitated.”

“I did not – “

“Have you seen him with someone?” Paul leans forward towards you, his eyes widening in curiosity.

Oh God. “I-I haven’t – “

“Now you’re stuttering, what are you hiding?”

“Jesus, Paul, I’m not…” you can’t lie to him. You’ve never been able to lie to Paul. He just always knew when you were, there was no point to it. “Take it up with your dad.”

You both jumped as the front door opened and closed, Leto walking in looking oh-so-scrumptious in a denim shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, sunglasses on his nose, shopping bags in his arms.

His muscled, tanned, manly arms…

You shook your head, clearing your thoughts as Paul stood, walking over to his father and taking one of the shopping bags. Leto gave him a smile as he closed the door. “Thanks, Paul.”

Paul nodded as Leto greeted you with your name, the two of you trying to look as nonchalant as possible. Paul followed his dad to the kitchen, out of your eyesight, but you could hear him talking, mostly about how Paul’s new girlfriend was taking him out to dinner that night, before you hear Paul clearing his throat and saying, “When I come back from Chani’s later, can we have a talk?”

You grimaced as you heard the Leto starting to put the shopping away. “Yeah, no problem, bud. Anything serious?”

You don’t hear Paul reply. You stand to say your goodbyes, knowing that they probably won’t say anything with you in the house, but Paul walked back into the living room, grabbing his jacket that was hanging by the door. “I’ll call you later, yeah? After my talk with dad.”

Oh, there will be no way he’ll call.

You nod, not knowing what to say as Paul slipped his jacket on. “See you later.”

You gave him a quiet bye as he left. You let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding, leaning your hands on your knees as you leant forward, trying to calm your beating heart.

“Does he suspect anything?”

You look up at Leto, who was stood by the kitchen door, his sunglasses off, his brown eyes looking at you in concern.

You shake your head. “No, but he found the condoms.”

Leto inhales through his teeth, pulling a face of someone who had been caught with their hand in the – figurative – cookie jar. “Shit. Does he know – “

“He doesn’t know it’s me.”

Leto sighed, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “I’ll…uh…I’ll tell him I just – “

“It’s been seven months,” you said. “Don’t you think we should…I want to tell my parents.”

Leto stared at you for a few moments, studying you before he finally nodded. “Okay. I’m happy to do that if that’s what you want.”

You nod. “I think it is.”

Leto nodded, hands sitting on his waist, shifting from foot to foot. “I’ll tell Paul tonight then, when he’s back from Chani’s. I suppose he’ll want to talk about the condoms…why was he looking in my bedside table?”

You shake your head, letting out a small laugh. “I’m not sure, he told me it ‘wasn’t important’ when he thought you were dating and didn’t feel the need to tell him.”

Leto groaned, throwing his head back slightly before making his way towards you, his hands sliding around your waist before he buried his head into your neck. You giggled at the feeling of his beard tickling your skin, his warm breath causing you to tremble. “Well then, let’s enjoy this last afternoon together why we can, because I’m sure your father will chase me out of the neighbourhood.”

You laughed again as you felt his hands trail lower down your body. “I suppose Paul won’t notice a missing condom.”

[imjustwritingg]

I’m not this anon, I only read this ask on here from someone else but I wanted to know your take. I didn’t read any post interviews bc I was upset so I’m not sure what was sad. Here’s the anon post I saw

“I know no one wants to say anything negative but as a fan of upstead as well as Jay and Hailey separately that interview with Gwen and Tracy is awful on all sides. i thought maybe Tracy was secretly hating all this, her character's unnecessary misery, her onscreen husband’s character assassination, Hailey and Voight’s father/daughter storyline. But she’s not, she’s happy with the ending and has had talks with Gwen about her season arc (probably even could have had input on her ending because she does seem to be Gwen’s favorite) and she was fully on board. This will be the thing that gets me to move on the most because if she thinks that’s a good ending for fans of her character then we really never had a shot.”

For me, personally, I don’t put a lot of stock into those interviews from Tracy in regards to Hailey’s storyline and how things went or could have gone. We know Gwen has final say of everything as showrunner and that has been made clear. It has also been made clear after those interviews, that Gwen had no intention of reuniting Hailey and Jay in any capacity, even when it was seemingly brought to the table. I feel like she had her mind made up before they even got to that point in the writers’ room.

From my perspective of things and reading between the lines just based on actions and context, I don’t think Tracy was necessarily “happy” with the storyline for her exit. I’m sure there was some truth to it to some degree as far as Hailey’s journey and wanting to send her off in a good light and not kill her off, as well as the stuff she said about Jason, but I also think she probably gave her input and was ultimately overridden. She worked with what was given to her.

At the end of the day, Tracy is a professional and she truly loves what she does and she loved being a part of PD. She’s not going to badmouth the show or the writing or her co-workers, especially when one of those co-workers who was responsible for her character’s exit is on the phone, sat beside her, or on the same Zoom meeting with her in the same interview.

That’s where I’m at with it.

[aotopmha]

At lvl 87 Endwalker quests.

The Venat duty absolutely destroyed me.

I was planning to get Elpis done this weekend, but I struggled almost an hour and an half (maybe even twoish hours, didn't precisely track it) on this duty until I, for probably first time while playing this game, turned down the difficulty of a solo duty, and I'm pretty exhausted, so the rest of Elpis is left for another day.

It's a fantastic encounter because it sells you just how powerful Venat truly is really well, but it's another bit of gameplay proof to me that the difficult content of the game probably isn't something that is for me (and makes me incredibly grateful for the lower difficulty options for solo duties).

(At the very least I know progging some of the Savage content and especially Ultimates would probably drive me up the wall.

Extremes, I do want to give a try because they generally seem less time-intensive and lenient. I won't *completely* exclude tougher stuff, but at the very least I know that kind of content would get unfun fairly quick for me because of what it is by nature.)

It's the orbs that got me with every class I tried; just couldn't get enough of them in time, but as said, I'm pretty grateful for the 'easy' button.

With this out of the way, I think there is actually a good amount to say about all of the lvl 86 and 87 content up to the solo duty.

It can be actually summed up pretty easily: it's all just a lot of characterization, but it is characterization for a bunch of different characters and essentially an entire culture. More than any other zone, I think it is the motivations and perspectives of the characters that matter the most.

You've got the friendship between Emet and Hythlodeus, the father-daughter relationship between Hermes and Meteion and as I see it a student-mentor (maybe?) relationship between the WoL and Venat.

Between these are less focused dynamics like Venat teasing Emet or the cute budding friendship between the WoL and Meteion.

Then we have the individual characterization for all of them, too.

But before I fully go into them, there is a pretty big general thought I have about Elpis:

It is fanservice.

It is such unquestionably, blatantly, unflinchingly obvious fanservice that it should bother me so much more than it does.

For crying out loud, the entire portion of the story starts with Emet filling you with his aether. They're fully indulging the Emet simps.

But it is also substantial and thoughtful every step of the way, and I think really well told, so I really like it.

So, I'll get into exploring all of the characters in their basics. You could probably an entire massive post about every single one of them, but I just want to go into them in the most concise, simple way for now.

I'll start with Emet-Selch. I think my favorite part about Emet in Elpis is how he reacts when he learns about his actions in the future.

He cannot comprehend how he could be so disrespectful towards the sacrifice of his brethren, while all across the questing during the zone, his actions especially show just how much he cares about the well-being of the Star and his brethren, and that is the exact reason why he ends up doing what he does.

The reason why everything happens is because of who he is as a character. It is fantastic character-based plot writing, which is kind of a trend across all of Elpis (and happens to be probably my favorite type of writing, I love it when things happen because of who the characters are).

It is delicious Greek tragedy fodder.

Next, I've talked a bunch about how I no longer think character arcs are the be all and end all of good character writing and I think Hythlodeus is probably the best example in FF14.

He is just a super fun and likeable good (tease-y) friend. And he doesn't need to be more as a character.

(And everyone loves him!)

Obviously he has much less time on screen than everyone else, and he would probably get old after a while if we had him for a bunch of expansions, but I think he is proof that all you need for a great character is a likeable base personality.

His teasing dynamic with Emet is super fun and his presence only emphasizes why what Emet does and believes in the future makes sense.

Next are Hermes and Meteion.

The more I think on it, the more I feel like they're the thematic core of the story. And both are also carrying another type of narrative I love: stories about feelings.

Technically you can argue all stories are to some extent about feelings because stories are kind of there to make you feel.

But to me Endwalker is specifically about mental illness, more specifically perhaps about depression and despair and overcoming it.

It's fascinating, every time I even type about these ideas, I feel an unease, as if it shouldn't be a big deal, as if I'm making a mountain out of a molehill but also as if I was judging people for it. I feel there is still an unspoken stigma to it.

But it is a very serious issue. I myself have struggled with these thoughts, and though I luckily have found my answer and have gotten better, I still see and feel that judgment and disapproval directed at anyone who is suffering.

"Just stop being sad!"

"It's not that big of a deal!"

And in that sense, I feel Hermes is probably the most real of all of the characters in Elpis.

Is he the anomaly for essentially experiencing depression? Is he the anomaly for not agreeing with the norm of just discarding animals, thus other lives on a whim? For not seeing death as "beautiful" as his culture does?

As someone who has been there, dismissing or simplifying Hermes' struggle rings false to me. This is what mental illness does, what depression does. Mental illness makes everything bigger, creates tunnel vision, so Hermes can't see the good around him and so turns to look for purpose elsewhere.

I remember seeing a video title along the lines of "Hermes should suffer more" or again talking points about him "just being sad" and while it might have been for clickbait purposes, I think I've seen sentiments along those lines a bunch of times and I feel like many people just miss the point of his character and maybe even have this opinion towards him because of how they view emotional struggles like this.

Obviously stuff like this is super personal and hits different for everyone, but fictional characters are also not real people; they serve a narrative purpose and in this case Hermes represents someone going through this kind of struggle.

Among other things, he is a general thematic symbol, an idea within the story.

Even if he had the most awful ambitions imaginable, what message would further torturing a character going through this kind of emotional struggle ultimately send?

The idea of fantasy as a filter exists for a reason; were it real life all of these characters, even the more heroic ones, would be morally abhorrent.

But fiction allows us to explore some of these heavy ideas within its safe framework. And you're not obligated to like art like this, either. I just think that's the brand of fantasy FF14 is going for and I fully read most stories within this framework and really enjoy them.

I don't need characters to be morally good for a story to be good, but I actually do also think Hermes is a pretty good example of a narrative distinguishing between the sympathetic and antagonistic parts of a character's actions.

You're not empathizing with him wanting to destroy the world. The entire point is to just understand where his perspective came from. That is the framing I see.

But again, a text can have many reads. In the end I just disagree with a bunch reads on Hermes.

But to move on from Hermes, I think if Hermes is the most "real", Meteion is probably the most tragic.

She is by nature essentially an empath. If Hermes is the adult suffering from mental illness, Meteion is the child feeling the consequences with no say on the matter.

Meteion feels what Hermes feels and those are often negative feelings; and when he sees Meteion suffer from it, he in turn feels guilty. And Meteion suffers from that in turn.

Hermes very clearly cares for Meteion, but he also ends up using her for his own ends just like the other ancients do creations. His entire reason for creating Meteion was for his wish to see other civilizations to be fulfilled. It's selfish. Hermes is not immune from his culture's principles.

And while it hurts him to hurt her, he still does it. It's a crazy good complicated relationship.

As I said, I think there is so much more to say, but I think I'll move on to the final pair.

Truth is, I'm not 100% sure what to label the Venat/Azem/WoL relationship because while teacher-student is a strong sense I get, I also get a very strong "simple friendship with a fellow traveler" feeling out of it.

I can see why the Emet/Hythlo or Emet/Azem/WoL ships are so strong, but I never got that sense out of Venat.

And I don't see the parent/child parallel that strongly either despite all of the mommy jokes.

I need to think on that more.

But what I do love, is characters that *love* the world.

Who unconditionally, fiercely love it.

Life is a miracle to her and so she aims to protect it with all of her being.

And she didn't use to think that way. It is the pursuit of knowledge that lead her to that conclusion.

And to me, that makes her a fantastic meta parallel to me as a player because that is how I grew to see FF14 as I saw more of its story and then got to eventually play it.

Because at first I wasn't interested in doing any of the side content, only the main story, but as I went on I became interested to the point of wanting to do the blue quests, then yellow quests, then tribe quests, and any of the side content.

My plan for Dawntrail is to really take my time and really take in literally all of it, down to eventually the least significant yellow quests.

It'll take time, but that is my eventual aim with the entire game currently.

I grew to love this story, this world and all of the characters in it.

I'm not sure if this is the meta intention with Venat, but that is how it worked out for me as a player.

"Has your journey been good? Has it been worthwile?"

She asks and while my most immediate thought is "gotta get that audience survey in there", a split second later, all can I think of is "yes".

At this point I have about 700+ hours in the game and the only bit of content I've disliked is traversing the ARR, HW and a bunch of the SB zones.

But going back to Venat, I like that despite being so graceful in image, she has fun and joy in her.

Her being the previous Azem is very fitting in that sense and is another aspect of her character that makes me view her as a adventuring friend.

My overall thoughts about Elpis so far are really that I love how well-defined the characters and the relationships between them are; it is a feast for someone like me who loves character-centric stories.

I look forward to what is coming next; really nearing the final stretch here and I look forward to covering it as I go through it.

[atxxzist]

broken | c.s (01)

next // series m.list

pairing: choi san x reader

word count: 6.3k

warning: allusion to neglect, abuse, expect some heavy stuff

there's only been a couple, rare instances where your aunt helped you with a genuine smile on her face; cooing a tune under her breath and packing your belongings with no complaints.

of course all of them relating to a time where you had to leave, whether just for a few days, or maybe now permanently.

you know she won't take you back after you walk out the door.

a part of you truly wanted to despise her, for all the snarky comments through the years, and that uncomfortable, embarrassed, look on her face whenever she'd get asked if you were her child.

a woman of her age holding a grudge against a teenage girl unheard of.

but ever since your mom dumped you on her doorstep, you know you've made her life hell since.

that although she's overbearing and would probably throw you to the wolves first chance she gets, you'd have no roof over your head and no food in your stomach if it wasn't for her.

because if your uncle wasn't out sitting on the porch with a cigarette in between his fingers or downing his fifth soju bottle by noon, he was in bed taking one of the many naps of the day.

she's had a hard life, and you've only made it worse.

so maybe after all, all you can do for her, is leave. one less mouth to feed and one less problem to worry about. she probably has been waiting for the day you become of age anyways.

the goodbye is straight to the point; no crying or weeping tears of sorrow. nothing alike any departures that you see in movies. but it's over with. a new life, new people, and a new city you go.

mingi's dad is the one to drive you guys. if there has been anyone in your life remotely close to a father figure, it would be him.

he was the one who always paid when you were too out of pocket to really do anything with mingi. paid for the school festivals, for your uniforms when it was getting dirty, and when he found out you were going to be spending the new year alone, he gladly swooped you in for a trip with them.

a lot came with mingi, after he found you under that oak tree in your freshman year of high school, lost and alone. all of them a blessing.

"how do you guys think seoul people are gonna act like? are all the rumors true?" yunho speaks from beside you; he's another blessing that came with the package.

shortly after forming somewhat of a friendship with mingi, which solely consisted of him pestering you and sticking his nose where it didn't belong, he introduced you to yunho, his best friend.

and what were the odds that the only kid who actually bothered with you, would be your next door neighbor as well.

it was then that you met his parents and it very much explained where mingi got his mannerism from. though he has his moments.

"yeah. are they as stuck-up as everybody say? do they drink until morning--"

''--mingi, almost everyone drinks until morning. even back in that old town of ours," mr. song cuts.

mingi spares his father one glance and scoffs.

"yeah tell me about it, father. tell me how you grew that big belly of yours that is two months past due."

you and yunho chuckle quietly in the backseats, accustomed to their father-son banters.

mr. song hisses under his breath and snaps a quick headlock at mingi before moving his eyes back to the road.

"if i wasn't driving, i'd slap that mouth of yours," he says, "why can't you be more like yunho?"

"what!?" mingi voices in disbelief. "he was the one who started it!"

"oh..." he continues, "i know what this is about. it's cause i'm gay and you want a daughter-in-law after seeing minji and yunho."

both you and yunho roll your eyes at the boy's dramatic act.

it was something mingi had told you only a couple weeks after you got to know him. it's still mind-boggling how fast he trusted you, but he said he just did. something about you.

and a year later, he confessed to his parents. afraid at first of course, who wouldn't be. only to get a slap on the head by mr. song, not because he was gay, but because he had snuck out with you after mr. song specifically told him to watch the stove.

safe to say, he almost burned their house down that day. but the constant stealing of mrs. song's makeups and the hidden collection of boy band posters under mingi's bed kind of gave it away.

"yeah, sure," mr. song replies with a dry sarcasm. mingi rolls his eyes.

"anyways! about the dorms, i'm excited!" he diverts.

"i don't know..." you mumble.

you had wanted a lone room to yourself--those were an option. but neither you, nor mingi and yunho knew very much about the process. everything is new to you all. so by the time you guys had signed up, there were only leftovers.

meaning you're going to have a roommate; possibly one that's gonna have to put up with you for the next four years.

you don't know how to feel about that. especially a stranger.

so while mingi and yunho are esctastic about the mystery of their new roommates, which you're sure they won't have a problem becoming best buds with within a week span, you on the other hand, is dreading it.

"come on, y/n. it'll be fun," mingi attempts to lighten from the front.

yunho nods along. "yeah. and maybe even if your roommate turns out to be a major buzzkill, think about everything else. you're in a new city now. it's a fresh start."

"right," mingi agrees, "you need it, y/n. after everything you've been through. this is going to be great, i already have a feeling."

and for once, mr. song is onboard with his son. you see a smile on him from the rearview mirror.

"you're going to have a good time, sweetheart."

"i can't wait to see who's the hunk that i'm gonna be sharing a room with," mingi suddenly says, like his father isn't just right next to him.

mr. song shoots him a glare and mingi clears his throat, drawing back.

"i mean--"

you and yunho erupt into a fit of laughters.

~

you're definitely in seoul's air. the hustle and bustle, chitters around every corner that you pass--much louder than the old, quiet town, and the many tall buildings overlooking the city.

after bidding farewell to mr. song, with mingi stubbornly and smugly swearing on his life he's so glad to finally be away from his parents' domineering ways, only to break down and refuse to let his father get back into the car, you made it.

some rather confusing conversation with the lady at the front desk, but somehow you manage to convince her into giving you the key to the room.

mingi and yunho are off to their own before you even make it past the elevator. some friends they are.

"43-d 43-d...." you mumble to yourself repeatedly, just in case you happen to miss said room, staring at each number plastered on the wall so passively strolling by.

"43-d!"

you stop in front of a door quite secluded and far from the main hall, taking in the big '43-d' stickered to the side, before dingling the key in your hold.

you wonder if your roommate had already made it in. wonder if she's sitting at the edge of the bed and intently peering at the door because she's equally as curious.

if she's gonna be the best thing for the next four years, or the worst nightmare all in one.

a small creak is heard at the opening of the door, and the view in front of you; a squared-room as small as you imagined. a window right in the middle separating two single beds and a girl with long, flowy hair sitting on the one at the right, her back facing you.

she turns to the source of noise and her face just as pretty as the rest of her body. she gets off to stand on her feet.

"oh my gosh! are you my roommate!" she beeline towards you. you nod at the question.

"i'm yuna!" she holds out one of her hand, a smile on her face suiting for a girl of her class. you wouldn't know exactly, but judging by her outfit, it probably cost a pretty penny.

"i'm y/n," you answer, almost whisper-like, shaking her hand in return.

now that she's standing, you realize how much shorter she is in comparison to you. a couple inches at least.

"i was afraid my roommate was gonna be a creep. but you look anything but that!" she chuckles; another thing so pretty about her.

"thanks?" you respond, a small smile gracing your lips at such thing.

"so y/n..." she says, reaching behind to shut the door, then proceeding to drag your wrist; the rolling of your suitcase grating to the ear. "what's your major?"

she goes back to sitting at the bed, but her stance facing you and hands in her lap. you stand there overlooking her, unsure where to place your hands or how to bend your legs.

"oh, uhm... information technology."

you weren't really sure initially, but from the years of beating both mingi and yunho at whatever games you got your hands on, and the constant troubleshooting of mingi's hardware issues, they figured you're kind of tech-savvy and highly encouraged you to consider the field.

all of your childhood being spent with some kind of distractions since your parents were too busy being elsewhere or really there for you, paid off in some ways.

"cool!" she beams, before tilting her head slightly, "so... what is that?"

you giggle, not a stranger to such question. you learned pretty early on that not many people care about the government term.

"just computers."

"ah!" she nods at it all coming together.

"and you?" you're surprise that came out, but she sounds easy-going enough.

"art!" she proclaims, the way she said it tells you it's something she takes pride in. "i was just about to hang these up!"

it's then that you notice the many pieces of artworks laying on the bed she's sitting on, all framed and to go.

the one in her hand right now of a pink lotus flower perfectly painted and almost quite even realistically. all the strokes of it are gentle and pastel, you can tell the efforts put into it.

"it's beautiful," you compliment her with a smile.

the first two weeks goes by awfully fast.

your classes and professors are alright, and your roommate is someone who you can actually see yourself becoming decent friends with, because you don't exactly plan on living the next couple of years in lingering awkwardness and dreaded silence.

but while her half of the room is padded with decorations, like someone actually lives there, your half just looks sad.

you didn't exactly have much to bring. neither mingi nor yunho brought a lot either. just a few necessities and clothes; everything else buyable with the change you carried.

problem is, you don't have a lot. just a couple bucks you were able to save through the years and some from mr. song that he so kindheartedly gave you.

so there weren't a lot of options for decoration. but at least for now, you have a pillow to sleep on and a blanket to counter the cold.

you need to start job hunting.

aside from that, you spend your days in the comfort of mingi or yunho, or both, sitting in the library and listening to their narrations of how their week or day went. who they met today and how great everything is already going.

well, that's mostly mingi.

yunho just sulks about how much he misses minji, his girlfriend. she had decided to stay back in the old town and attend university there. the program for her major was better, she said.

the names definitely tripped you at first. it also didn't help that the two were constantly at each other's throat and cursing one's parents name for the similarity. but you get used to it.

mingi's met a lot of people. a lot. but none of them he talks about as much as jung wooyoung, who also happens to be his dormmate.

the name at first hitting you with familiarity. you've definitely heard about him, from passings and whatnot. from mouths of other students.

his parents are rich rich, and although he's just a freshman like you guys, with only two weeks into the semester, he's already throwing the most lavish parties that will be the talk of the town for at least an entire year.

mingi said he didn't have to be in a dorm, he wanted to be in one. someone like jung wooyoung, barely of age, can already buy his own house right next to campus if he so desired, but you know this is probably all fun and games to him, to try to live the life of a struggling college student with restrictions.

so what are the chances that jung wooyoung, probably by far the most popular freshman, is mingi's companion. some odd strings of fate that is.

but it's mostly pathetic when they'd ask about you. how your day and week went or if you have gotten yourself into a sorority yet. you already told them about yuna, and that was mostly it.

if there is even anything remotely close to interesting from your college experience so far, it would probably be kang yeosang.

not that you would tell mingi and yunho about him, though. especially not in a place so public and exposed where words can easily get around. because if you're to say something about your encounter with kang yeosang, it's definitely not anything nice.

"intro to computers, room... ah!"

you finally found the room, after only mindlessly wandering around for thirty minutes or so, but you did it.

you're at least five minutes late. not a good look to the first day of class, but there's a plethora of worse outcomes.

when you walk in, your heels nearly dig into the flooring and a nervous speck flashes across your eyes, overlooking the population of students and seeing that it's a fucking sausage fest.

damn you for having picked a male-dominated field.

they watch you trail to a seat like you're the first sighting of a rare creature, which makes it all more nerve wracking that you can barely grasp where you're going.

just that you took a seat in an empty chair, as long as everyone stop staring at you.

then, you hear someone clearing their throat all of a sudden. you turn to the source but his eyes are gone. only his shiney, blonde hair in your view as whoever it belongs to, begins scribbling down something, but never returning your gaze.

it's only until the next day during attendence that you learn the mysterious boy's name.

kang yeosang.

you also learn within the next few sessions that he's an exceptionally gifted student, his skills in the course makes your amateur basic knowledge of computers pale in comparison.

you respect him. your professor likes him. and other students know he's in a league of his own.

he's even pretty. like the man jumped straight out of a manhwa cover. nose perfectly sculpted, features full of innocence yet deadly at the same time. and the hair color that brings an extra glow to his skin.

you feel nervous just sitting next to him, even. someone of this caliber should be starring in tv dramas or attending some prestigious university. what the hell is he doing sitting next to you in some intro class that he can probably pass with closed eyes.

that is until you actually speak to him. and all respect, any small amount of admiration you had for him, goes out the door.

because this dude is entitled and stuck-up as hell.

he's always had this aura around him that he's better than everyone else in the class; speaking very little and barely acknowleding anyone. but you gave him the benefit of the doubt.

you're working on a simulation assignment, stuck on a step you cannot get past although you already double checked everything. a quick glance to the front shows your professor already occupied with assisting other students, so you bite the bullet.

you don't do it very often, you're not good with new people. but there's no other way.

seeing as yeosang is already done with his, maybe he can help you out on just this very teeny step; a favor.

but he nearly snide; click his tongue and puffs out an air of annoyance like you're a mere inconvenience when you just muttered a small "hey..." with the lightest tap on his arm.

he looks over your screen momentarily and has the most irritated expression you've ever seen on anyone.

then a scoff departs from him. mockingly.

"if you're already struggling with something as simple as this, maybe you should reconsider your choice of major, princess."

and your jaw drops.

so uncalled for, and all over something so miniscule. the nickname and his tone lets you know of the blatant sexism since you're the only girl in a class full of men.

his attitude reminds you of someone. someone you've since learned to forget. leave behind.

and from that day on, you told yourself: kang yeosang can go choke on a stick.

"it's gonna be fun!" mingi slaps your back.

god knows how the hell he actually managed to convince you to come to one of jung wooyoung's magnificent party. your first ever college party. but he had gotten an invitation from the man himself.

not even a week after talking about them, and you're already here to testify it for yourself, if they truly are as great as people say they are.

you had asked yuna if she wanted to come along, just because she's the only other person besides mingi and yunho that you know, but she had plans with her parents tonight.

yunho is running late and had given the okay for you guys to go first. said he'll show later with his roommate, who he has been hushed about except for a few small comments that they get along well.

"i think i might throw up," you say, turning to mingi with a frown.

the house isn't as big as you had thought; quite mid-size actually and very modern, which leads you to believe that jung wooyoung does in fact, have a house off-campus as well.

"no no," mingi coos, rushing to your side immediately, arms thrown around your shoulders.

"you're going to be okay. i'm gonna be right next to you all night. i promise." he smiles. "now let's go in."

the music is blaring loud, strobes of flashy lights; all pink, green, and blue, lasering through your eyes and there's drunken bodies everywhere as mingi drags you through the front and into the house.

the space is so tight with everyone busting ass on the dance floor and you attempting to dodge so you won't get hit, you're literally holding your breath in hope you won't lose mingi, or the other way around.

he finally stops near a corner with less traffic, a couch to the right and he lets go of your hand.

"hey!" you hear a voice; a new one.

you watch as a smaller, much shorter man than mingi with parted black hair and a red solo cup in his hold, goes to handshake him.

you're guessing that's wooyoung.

"you made it!" he screech excitedly. you just realize how high he can actually go.

"i did!" mingi replies back with the same enthusiam. "and it looks awesome, man."

these two are literally made for each other, you think.

"thank you thank you," he accepts the compliment with a cheeky smile.

"ah! this is my friend i was telling you about!" mingi all of sudden pulls you into the spotlight, only for you to cower in immediately with a flustered reaction.

wooyoung chuckles.

"she's a shy one, i see."

mingi chuckles back.

"you have no idea."

wooyoung straightens his posture, eyes boring into yours and holding his hand out.

"wooyoung." he smiles.

you slowly and hesitantly reach out your own to meet his, uttering in the quietest volume known to men, "y-y/n."

when he kisses the top of your hand, you almost jump just from the cultural shock, but is able to contain yourself in just the same 'ole flustered face.

"nice to meet you."

he breaks apart the contact, and so do you. resting your hand back at the side.

"if you need anything, or have any questions, just let me know, y/n. happy to help."

you only nod in return, averting your gaze to mingi for him to say something because the nonexistent social butterfly in you is dying out.

"oh, yes!" he says out of nowhere.

~

you're now seated on the couch, watching the abundance of people grind against one another on the dance floor, and then moving your attention back to mingi and wooyoung still at the same spot chatting away like they have all the time in the world.

mingi had gotten you a drink just so you'll have something to do. just so he'll feel less guilty about having dragged you up in here and is now throwing you off to the side.

nothing alcoholic. just punch.

you take another sip of your drink, the cup just out of your vision and boom--mingi and wooyoung now gone. just like that.

so much for "i'm gonna be right next to you all night." your freaking ass.

a small surge of panic rushes at the comprehension of no mingi in sight and a bunch of strangers around you, stuck on someone's couch.

you pull your phone out to text yunho.

y/n: are you at the party yet? mingi just left me. i don't know anyone here ☹️

yunho: yeah i arrived a little while ago. where are you?

y/n: i don't know. inside the house, on the couch?

yunho: i'm coming

you breathe a sigh of relief, hoping yunho will be able to sweep you away soon, but proceeding to leave a message for mingi as well, just if he answers.

everything's already beginning to close in like walls and making you majorly uncomfortable.

but then five minutes passes, then ten, then fifteen, and yunho is still nowhere to be seen and mingi hasn't replied either.

y/n: are you coming?! 😭

yunho: some dickhead is out here causing a ruckus and blocking the entrance inside the house. stay put, or maybe go out to the back and see if mingi's there?

you scowl. just great. one glance to the left confirms the commotion, so you get up and shove your phone into your pocket, carrying the cup in your hand that still has a decent amount left, and going on a search for your wonderful best friend.

it doesn't seem as packed back here as it is up front, but still requiring for you to muster up some strength to be able to push past some sweaty bodies and out into wooyoung's backyard.

but it becomes a grave mistake, because if the front is bad, this is just heinous.

music from all corners of the yard, a big heated pool right in the middle and a bunch of almost-naked people in their swimsuits splashing in and out. you don't know how you're going to even make it to the other side to find mingi.

but all it takes is another once-over of the current situation for you to conclude that you'll probably have better luck of yunho finding you.

you spin around to head back inside, until a voice, almost like nails on chalkboard at this point, comes into the picture.

"i didn't think i'd see you here," yeosang mumbles, just standing slightly off to the side, hands in his pockets and a smirk on his face.

your eyebrows furrow into madness because instead of running to anyone else, it just has to be him.

didn't think he'd see you here? why? because you look like a total bookworm who'd rather stay in her room than be out at a party? it might be true, but his generalizing ass is annoying you.

you don't give him any sort of reply that might feed into that sick ego of his. only roll your eyes dramatically and continue on your feet, trying the best to get inside once again.

but it seems like the crowd only multiplies by the minutes, more and more people coming and you getting lost in the herd.

"excuse me," you grit through your teeth, not at all giving up.

but with shoulders grazing, body parts touching, and reeks of alcohol that definitely isn't you, one lift of an arm from anywhere and the drink in your hold will be gone.

which is exactly what happens. your cup flies out of your hand to whoever's hard chest you just came in contact with. it drops and rolls onto the ground, stepped on by passersby and crushed to the sinking cement.

though not before whatever was still left in there spilled itself onto this stranger that was coming from inside while you were countering from the opposite direction.

"i'm so sorry!" you say apologetically, the sight of his drenched black shirt already embarrassing as it is.

but one push from the back and a grunt leaving your mouth, you trip and fall right forward--which would have been detrimental have an arm not wrap themself around your waist to keep balance.

your palms now on this stranger's hard chest and you're thinking to yourself: it can't be any worse than this. wetting this stranger and now he has to keep you from falling, too.

but when you finally look up to meet his gaze, it gets much worse when you see just about the most attractive person right in front of you.

his sharp eyes returning your starstruck ones and a coy smirk on his lips from having you in such a position.

you think you're about to pass out.

"you okay?" he asks, and it plucks one of your heartstrings, how mellow and soft his voice is. nothing alike his intimidating appearance.

you nod, and only just registers you're still leaning on his chest like an idiot when a small chuckle leaves him. his arm already untangled itself.

"sorry..." you whisper lowly, standing back on your toes and he smiles. you catch the indentations on his cheeks that are made of dimples and oh my gosh. this is the guy you just made the worst first impression on.

"hey, it's okay," he assures.

you observe him peeking his head out, checking either sides before swooping your wrist so fast, you almost gasp.

he turns back around and leads you inside the house. the process is much quicker, considering he's taller, stronger, and able to squeeze his way through without all the pitiful pleadings.

you're not sure where he's going, but he seems to know his way around just fine.

but such a handsome stranger gripping onto you so tightly does do a little something to your heart.

you take the time to admire him from the back and you notice he has some broad shoulders. manly, sexy, broad shoulders.

"let's get you cleaned up."

his melodic voice snaps you out, seeing that he brought you to the kitchen, right next to the sink.

it's surprisingly peaceful in here. the muffled music still audible from an earshot, but nothing barbaric like it was before.

maybe this handsome stranger is a regular at wooyoung's parties.

he starts ripping the paper towels from the holder and you can only stare in amazement at how he manages to make such a simple task look so... captivating.

he hands you a bunch of them and it takes a hot second for your words to unclog itself from your throat.

"oh no. only a little bit got on me, and some on my shoes, i think," you refuse the gesture.

he giggles silently and switches his gaze to your sneakers.

"cute shoes." he smiles, and it also just sinks in right now how unreal the lighting from the kitchen makes him look.

you feel your cheeks heating up. hopefully he doesn't notice.

"thanks..." your eyelashes flutters once, and a faint smirk crawls onto him from the image.

"you don't go to parties often, huh?" he says, dabbing his shirt lightly with the paper towels.

was it the way you looked? that excruciating expression on you that tells him you've never been to a single party in your life, or maybe the clueless, dim-witted act in such a setting that speaks volume.

"not at all actually. i was looking for my friend."

"oh!" he perks up, some kind of interest sparking. "i might be able to help if you tell me who she is, or maybe he?"

"well, i'm sure you know jung wooyoung."

a smile so handsome cracks on him at the name drop.

"i know jung wooyoung. he's your friend?" but something about the way he said it feels like he knew more about wooyoung than just know.

you shake your head.

"my friend went off with him. mingi. song mingi."

he squints his eyes.

"name's not ringing any bell. but shouldn't be too hard locating wooyoung. he's usually upstairs entertaining the guests or down by the pool hosting some games. i'm guessing you already checked outside?"

"i was out there, but... there were too many people. that's why i was coming back."

he nods and settles on a gentle smile.

"we can check upstairs then, you okay with that?"

you nod and wait for him to finish, keeping quiet as he throws the used towels to the trashcan. but you can still spot some wrinkles on his shirt where it has been untouched.

"you're not going to clean all of it?" you ask so genuinely, innocently, he thinks you're already too endearing.

he releases a chuckle and shake his head.

"you get used to drinks spilling on you the more you attend these events. might not be the last one of the night, you never know."

"oh..." all you say, a little embarrassed from the remembrance of your doing, but he finds the pink blush decorating your cheeks incredibly cute.

he smirks, only to replace it with a smile shortly after.

"let's go find your friend."

you nod and follow behind him. almost wishing he'll reach around to pull you along with those veiny arms as he guides you just like he did before.

baby steps, y/n. baby steps.

but you guys aren't even out of the kitchen yet, when something goes off in the pocket of his pants.

he stops instantly and you could've knocked right into his back, but manages to keep a safe distance.

you only observe with wide-eyes as he pulls his phone out, the screen reflecting on his perfect face and something about him changes that second.

a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips that lasts longer than the one he gave you before, shooting a quick glance your way, moving back to the screen and thrusting the device back.

he turns around and you await in your stance.

"unfortunately, i won't be able to. something came up. think you'll be able to navigate your way around? turn right after you exit and the stairs should be there. wooyoung is usually in one of the rooms upstairs."

it's a bit disheartening but this stranger has already done so much for you, especially given the starting circumstances. and you couldn't ask for more.

"i should be able to," you tell him.

"perfect." he shuts his lips into a smile. "and if you don't mind me asking, may i know your name?" a more cheekier one arises.

"y/n..."

"y/n. i'm gonna remember that. well, then i'll see you around on campus. you go to the one across the street, right?"

you nod. "same one as wooyoung, yeah."

"awesome! see you then, y/n."

a part of you conflicted, wondering if you should ask for his name, too. you would want to know the name of such a kind, handsome stranger that helped you.

but you open your mouth to say something, and he's already gone. ponder about the possibility of ever really seeing him again, and acknowledge the two or three butterflies in your stomach.

you just might have developed the tiniest crush on someone you barely knew and have barely spoken with for under an hour.

a defeated sigh leaves you, eyes moving back to the kitchen exit and meeting yunho's surprised ones.

"y/n!"

when mingi suspiciously brings up you not being upset, or at least not upset enough that he ditched you, you tell him that it's fine. it happens. college party shit.

you won't really tell him that because he's an awful, promise-breaking friend, it eventually lead you right into the chest of a cute, handsome, dimpled stranger. literally.

and you also won't tell him that you're still thinking of this stranger; so much that you didn't even realize you had carelessly accepted an invitation out to dinner until he comes knocking at your door.

"how do you accidentally say yes to an invitation? i gave you a whole ass speech about it, girl. and you were nodding with hums and 'uh-huh'." he rolls his eyes.

"you talked a lot, mingi! i clocked out halfway." you shrug.

"you're a shit ass friend. just awful."

you scoff and lightly push him by the shoulder.

"you literally dipped on me for some dick, what are you talking about."

"okay, first of all, wooyoung is as straight as a ruler, believe it or not. and second of all, what happened to it's fine."

you blow a raspberry.

"so that's why he invited you out to dinner? you guys are friends now? and people can change their mind."

"more than friends," mingi corrects with a smile. "best friends now."

you roll your eyes and shake the statement off.

yunho's room is just a floor above mingi's, already able to spot the room number he gave you guys from where you're standing.

"oh shit," mingi suddenly voice out.

"what?"

"i forgot my phone."

he checks the pockets of his jacket, then patting down his pants, and... nothing.

"you go first. go wait in the lobby if i'm still not back yet by the time yunho's ready."

"fine."

he walks off, and then there was one.

lately, luck seems to be working against you, doing the most to make sure you're excluded from your friends. that includes being in the same dorm building.

you knock the door just twice, afraid of coming off annoying.

yunho also have a roommate, you have to keep in mind. mingi had mentioned his roommate will be dining with you guys.

you're about to knock again, when it flashes open with a squeak of the frame and your jaw drops at the person standing before you, having to nearly rub at your eyes just to make sure this isn't some sick joke.

"what the hell are you doing here?" you spit so bitterly.

yeosang grimace, before letting loose an irksome laughter.

"this is my room."

and that's when it hits you that...

"hey y/n!" yunho speaks from behind, fixing at his shirt. "about almost ready."

well hallefuckinglujah. might as well run you into the ground at this point. and when a smirk dashes across yeosang's lips, you can picture how red your knuckles are from all the clenching.

~

you're greatly disappointed in yunho, and in mingi.

okay, maybe they didn't know you knew kang yeosang and your rather unpleasant experiences with him since you didn't tell them, but it does make you question how they're able to stand someone like him. especially yunho.

someone so... egocentric and self-absorbed, when yunho is anything but that.

makes you want to shudder even more thinking back to him talking so kindly about his roommate that he gets along with so well.

even right now as yeosang's sitting across from you with that stupid smirk still on, it makes you want to lounge forward and wipe it off his equally stupid face.

"my treat, guys! eat to your heart's content," wooyoung announces. he's in the seat next to yeosang and even he, already likes him, too.

"don't have to tell me twice," mingi replies, flipping through the menu.

"oh, right," yunho snaps up. "about this friend of yours, he coming?"

wooyoung had talked about inviting another friend along, but he's running late. very late.

"he should be on his way, yes."

you're listening to wooyoung when you suddenly feel a soft kick to your ankle, almost giving it away by your reaction.

you move your focus from wooyoung to yeosang and see that he's trying to hide an amused smile.

two can play at a game.

so you kick him back, with actual force and gratification when his face twists in pain.

you're too busy playing footsie with yeosang and lasering each other deathly glares, that you miss the opening of the restaurant's door, and even wooyoung standing up.

"ayyy, he's here! my best bud, my partner in crime!"

only at wooyoung's louder voice, do you turn to the new arrival and immediately, heart eyes overcome your vision when you realize who it is.

and when he locks gaze with you, his mouth draws into a smile; those cute, cute dimples showing. and he's so, so handsome.

"my man, choi san!"

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