#Blanche & her reaching out for their arms/hands… that one moment she tried to grab at Dorothy in the final what if that was my last straw.
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eeblouissant · 9 months ago
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15, 19, and 20 for the golden wives if you want!! That ask game is so cute omg
“do they always say I love you before leaving (a room, the house, etc)?”
Yes!! oh yes & all three of them do it in different ways imo!
Dorothy isn’t afraid to tell either (or both) of them that she loves them, it’s getting into specific thoughts & feelings that intimidates her (& ends in her shutting herself off most times). So she does, but she will never leave a room completely until the other(s) confirm that they’ve heard her. Yelling an ‘i love you (both)’ across the room & getting a response can be enough for her. Rose will normally come running to give her a quick kiss & Blanche follows behind to admire!! Not that she doesn’t also want to steal a kiss, and she will if she feels so inclined, but sometimes standing back & getting the look from Dorothy for smiling so unashamed while roses smothers her is exactly what she wants (she’s a little menace, I don’t make the rules I just follow them).
Rose is just the sweetest of sweethearts (as if that even needs to be said), neither of them leave the house (& most rooms) without a kiss, an I love you, and very often a ‘where are you going?’ (Because she wants to come with!! By the time she’s said that she’s already up & on her feet). She follows the both of them around the house a lot, so they’re never really out of her sight. But when they do leave the house without her she showers them in affection. Hugs & kisses, helping with their coats & shoes, last minute touch ups to hair & makeup, making sure there’s not a thing in the world they could possibly need before they leave��� all of it!!
Blanche would be similar to Rose, but heavier on the physical touch side of things. Reaching out for hands/arms/wrists, so so many kisses. But I think hugs are her favourite before one of them leaves the house. Leaving a room I don’t think she’s as conscious of it (saying anything), but she always makes sure they’re a little loved on before leaving the house without her! I think she’d rather tag along whenever she can, so she’s never really saying goodbye to them.
‘How do they feel about PDA?’
oh boy. I think they’re very torn on this one:
For Dorothy it depends, but for the most part it’s a huge nono. Based on my own observation (& a hint of my own hcs) she seems to put her walls up impossibly higher when she’s outside of the house. So anything that could possibly send them crumbling down she’d avoid like the plague (or in this case, give a very stern warning to. Which she wouldn’t enjoy doing, especially not to either of them and especially not to poor Rose. Blanche understands, but rose seems to take it a little harder even after it clicks). I think there’s a chance of her warming up to the idea of a quick kiss on the cheek or linking arms, but it would never go very far on her part. & the others know (and would never cross) that! They know that if Dorothy is interested she’ll make it known.
Rose doesn’t hide her love for them, why would she? & in public the most of that energy gets thrown Blanches’ way (after she comes to understand Dorothy’s situation a little better, she’d never want to make her feel uncomfortable. The guilt would eat her alive). She shows the most affection towards Blanche but always makes sure that Dorothy knows that rose knows she’s also there. & that she loves her just as much. They share a look, & Dorothy smiles, & that’s enough for them.
Blanche, to me, is less touchy than I think most would like to believe. She loves the feeling of having someone (rose, mostly) on her arm or being on (hers). Her & Rose initiate equally & respond similarly. But blanche loves knowing that others know that she’s in love, for one reason or another. She’s not searching for external validation necessarily, I think she’s just a bit possessive. (Dorothy would also be that way, if she became that comfortable. Sort of an internal yes, she’s on my arm because she’s my wife. Jealous?) (and oh how Blanche would feed off jealous looks).
‘Choose one song that perfectly describes their relationship’
only one?!!! must I???
Because I can’t choose only one, I’m giving them each a song that I think describes their relationship perfectly from their perspective:
Dorothy: meadows in bloom by Jonathan Bree.
Rose: a lots gonna change by Weyes Blood.
Blanche: get free by lana del rey.
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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 1 year ago
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Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 73
Part 1 Part 72
Steve clutches Eddie and Will tighter to him. He can feel the warmth of their skin beneath their clothes, so warm against the November air that it burns. He clutches them tighter still, hoping he can immolate himself on their warmth, let that golden light in.
The kids are all yelling behind him, asking questions he doesn’t have answers to. Their faces blur together, as do their names, consumed slowly by the thing he can feel in the back of his head. It’s an ice pick through his brain. He wants to lean into it, even as he rubs his cheek into Eddie’s chest, the zipper biting roughly into his jaw.
“It got me,” he murmurs, words buzzing through Eddie’s heartbeat.
Eddie runs his fingers through Steve’s hair, pulls his face up by a fistfull of it to meet his eye. It stings. Steve wants to rub against it like an affection-starved cat. “What was that, sweetheart?”
Steve looks into his deep, brown eyes, and tries to keep them in his mind past the cold all around. “I can feel it,” he says. “It got me.”
Eddie’s biting his lip, blanching it white around his teeth. Without thought, Steve reaches out his pointer finger and pulls it down until it springs free. Eddie swallows audibly, Adam's apple bobbing with the movement. Steve sort of wants to bite it until he tastes blood.
“Should we go to Dr. Owens?” Will asks.
Steve whips his head to the side quick enough that Will lurches back a bit, falling out of the pile their bodies make and into the grass. Steve wants to reach out and drag him back. The through-line between them feels frozen, made brittle by the cold. Like if he pulled just a little too hard the whole thing would snap with catastrophic blowback for them both. But–
“I’m not going to a doctor,” he says. So vehement that it barely sounds like his voice at all.
Will shuffles back a little farther, hands outstretched and empty.
Eddie sits up, holding Steve beneath the armpits like he’s a toddler being carried. He sets him down right in front of Eddie and grabs his bare hand. It’s so scorching, it burns. Steve clutches on, watching tight-lipped as Eddie reaches his open hand out for Will’s own, making a fucked up little circle full of fucked up little people.
Whatever moment Eddie’s trying to create pops when one of the kids surrounding them opens her mouth.
“You should go to the doctor,” she says, clutching a skateboard to her chest when everyone turns to look at her. “What? That wasn’t normal!”
Steve looks at her, tries to make the lines of her face resolve into a memory, any memory at all. It doesn’t work. “Who are you?” he asks.
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, random girl, I get it,” she says, throwing her hands in the air as she storms away, throwing a biting, “leave me out of your freaky shit, then. What do I care!”
Once she’s on the sidewalk in front of the school, she drops her skateboard to the ground, jumps on it and skates away, jumping showily over the split on the sidewalk, big enough to lose a quarter in.
“So cool,” one of the kids mutters, the curly-haired one. Dustin? He has a brief flash of the kid sitting at the edge of a bed with white sheets, bouncing in excitement, before it fades back.
“She’s right, though,” another kid says, crossing his arms and glaring down at Steve haughtily. He’s like a judgemental raincloud, and Steve would know, he can feel one pushing him out of his head right now. “You need to go to the doctor.”
Something unfurls in Steve’s head. He wants to reach his hands out and wrap around the kid’s neck like a snake. He wants to squeeze and squeeze and squeeze. But Eddie’s still holding his hand, skin so hot that it hurts. So he doesn’t.
“I’m not going,” he says, standing up, his grip on Eddie’s hand pulling him up as well, leaving Will to scramble up behind them, hanging on tightly to Eddie’s hand as Steve leads the procession away from the kids and back toward the high school.
“Where are we going?” Will asks, voice small and frightened.
Steve squeezes Eddie’s hand like Will can feel it. Eddie squeezes back. “I’m going home.”
No one says anything as they walk up the sidewalk, as they reach the school, as Eddie presses Steve into the passenger seat, and Will into the back before climbing into the driver’s side.
He drives them all home.
The heat in the van’s been busted since he met Eddie, barely trickling heat out of the vents no matter how high Eddie blasts it. Steve settles in, letting the chill of his skin and the comfort of Eddie’s familiar music fill him up.
His first view of the trailer hits like a breath of relief. Home, home, home.
The heat in the trailer works. When Eddie opens the door, leading Steve by the waist into its comfortably familiar interior, the heat of the place hits Steve in the face, making him gasp.
He shakes out of Eddie’s grasp, already breathless, walks to the thermostat and turns it down until the heat clicks off entirely. He goes to the little window in the kitchen, and the window in their bedroom, opens them both, letting the chill in.
“What are you doing?” Eddie asks, as Steve makes his way to the bathroom, opening that window as well. Steve brushes past him, propping the door open like his Father taught him to make sure the air circulates.
Will’s voice murmurs from the kitchen, telling someone where he is and that he’s fine and that he loves them. Steve only realizes he was on the phone when he hears the familiar click of the receiver being put down.
“Steve?” Eddie says. Steve looks back at him. “What are you doing?”
Will walks out of the kitchen, silent enough that Steve wouldn’t have noticed him hovering partially behind the separation wall if it wasn’t for the brittle line connecting them, even still. His eyes are wide, face pale as he looks at Steve desperately. Steve wishes he knew what the kid wanted, but his head feels so full, it’s going to burst, so he just says, “he likes it cold.”
Somehow, Will’s eyes get even wider at that, pupils darting over to where Eddie’s still hovering at the threshold of the bathroom. Eddie’s holding up one of his curls above his mouth, the way he always does when he’s embarrassed or bashful, but his eyes are wide and wet and sad. Steve takes a step toward him, hand outstretched.
Something unfurls within him when Eddie takes his hand, even as it burns burns burns.
“Who likes it cold?” Eddie asks quietly, a secret between the three of them.
Steve looks into his eyes, says nothing. He knows they both know who he means, can see the recognition in Eddie’s face. Still, he looks up, like he’ll be able to see it still, now, even here.
All he sees is the gaudy yellow of the Munson’s ceiling, like the warm light glow of the sun is cracking through and shining down on them, even as the clouds outside clap open and pour down on the shitty metal shingles.
Eddie squeezes his hand, linking their fingers more securely like he never wants to let go. “Okay, Steve,” he says, even quieter still. Steve doubts Will can hear it from where he’s still hovering on the outskirts of the kitchen. “We’ll figure this out. I promise.”
He raises Steve’s hand to his lips, sears a burning kiss across his hand and then drops them back down to dangle in the minute space separating them.
Steve wonders what there is to fix. This is how it was always going to go, how it’s supposed to be. Steve closes his eyes, and feels the shadows slither within.
Part 74
Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @1-8oo-wtfbro @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x @bookworm0690 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @wonderland-girl143-blog @nerdsconquerall
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sanjifucker42069 · 1 year ago
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Looks Like Lingerie to Me - Part Two
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Word Count: 1.4k
Part 1
A belated and awkward part 2. I’ll start writing part 3 in the morning (it’s like 1am lmao)
For those who need a visual aid, here. (oof feels like wattpad or quotev but girlypops i am cringe but i am free. it isnt a perfect representation, but its pretty accurate. titilating, no? ;) )
Warnings: Lingerie lmao…this is pretty short, and is just a set-up for part 3. A lot of this is my own feelings surrounding cis men in lingerie. As with part 1 gender neutral reader. Yeah! Hope you enjoy!
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Sanji couldn't stop thinking about it. You thought he'd look hot in lingerie? You thought he looked slutty?
It had overtaken every waking moment. Any time he wasn't focused on a task all he could see was the dumb stare you gave him, eyes focused on his thighs.
He'd love to wear lingerie for you if it meant you'd stare at him like that.
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The Going Merry was docked, the Straw Hats carrying out their duties, and Sanji had a plan.
"I'm gonna go shopping. You coming (Name)? Sanji can carry our bags." Nami preened, looking absolutely glowing at the prospect of new clothes. Sanji bit his lip. He wanted to go with Nami and you, really he did, but if either of you caught on he'd die of embarrassment.
"You okay, Ji?"
Huh?
You were asking something.
"What? Oh, yeah, love. I'm fine. I'm afraid I have business to attend to on the island."
You blinked at him before smiling that dazzling smile up at him. He was smitten, his fortitude nearly wavering. "Of course. You do what you gotta do!"
Business his ass. Instead he hurried to check out the town.
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A small, seedy shop tucked away in an alley. Sanji entered the store warily. A small, old woman trotted out from the back. Sanji blanched. He didn't want to discuss this with a grandma! 
"Hello young man, here for something for your wife?"
Sanji felt himself flush. He tried to wander around the store. "No, no-"
"Your girlfriend then?" 
Ah. This grandmother didn't know when to quit.
"Not exactly?"
The old lady grabbed his arm. Sanji raised a brow, turning back to her. She was grinning at him, eyes narrowed and sparkling with something he couldn't place.
"Is it for you? Such a handsome young man as yourself." 
What? Sanji's face was on fire. He was flustered beyond belief. His hands were lightly shaking, eyes darting around for anyone else in the store.
"Come with me darling. My name's Bea." The old lady chimed, dragging Sanji with her. "What colour were you thinking?"
"Oh, um." Sanji was panicking, voice high. Did she even have lingerie for men? "Blue?" 
Bea hummed. "I do have blue, but I have a lovely pink set that would just make your skin pop."
Pink? Sanji didn't think it was possible to flush darker, and yet here he was. "I, uh, would it even fit me?"
"Of course sonny! You're quite slim." Bea swatted at his arm, patting his biceps for good measure as she led him through the store. "So, tell me about the lucky one."
"They're beautiful." Sanji began dreamily. Where should he even start? "The most gorgeous creature I've ever laid my eyes on. They have this laugh that just brightens up any room, and such a sense of humour. I’ve been smitten with them since I met them.”
“You two aren’t together?”
Sanji shook his head sadly. “No, no. We’re just good friends. They, uh… Do you know what shirt stays are?”
Bea laughed, patting the cook on the arm. “Say no more.”
She let go of him when they reached the back of the store. Sanji watched nervously as she carded through a rack of, well, did it really constitute clothing? Skimpy piece after skimpy piece were revealed.
And then he saw it.
It was a gorgeous baby pink. Bea ahhed as she removed it from the rack, holding it up to inspect it. She turned to face him, sizing him up next to the set. Sanji felt his throat go dry as he really took it in.
The set was a simple baby pink bralette, made from some kind of sheer lacy material with a flower motif. The plunging neckline was created to draw attention to the cleavage, and it was adorned with some delicate string of pearl-like decoration to highlight the collarbones. The panties were the same sheer material, clear that they weren’t to hide much. The sides of it were accentuated with cute ruffles that further added a feminine touch. Sanji felt lightheaded. 
Finally, it was a beautiful pastel garter belt that sat in the middle, completing the look. It too was made from the same stretchy, sheer lace. It would wrap around the waist, strategic cutouts to accentuate the waist, hips, and the bellybutton. The central cutout had a simple chain of pearls to add interest and movement. Four satin-looking ribbons led from bottom front and back, with clips attached to hold up stockings.
Oh, maybe his shirt stays were kinda…
Nonetheless, it was breathtaking. Sanji had clearly marvelled at it for too long, as Bea chuckled, causing him to flush red. The old woman, lingerie in hand, led him to a mirror. 
“I’m…I can’t.”
Bea just chuckled, holding the hanger up against him. “Look in the mirror boy, I’ve been making lingerie for fifty years. This suits you.”
Sanji obeyed her, staring at himself in the mirror. What he saw took his breath away. He looked a mess, face red and hair messy. He had to hand it to the old woman, the colour was flattering against him. Even the cut looked good. Sanji shifted from foot to foot, anxiety creeping in. He wasn’t really sure how he felt about looking so…so feminine. 
Sanji was a man. It wouldn’t be right for him to wear something so delicate and gorgeous. Right? Of course women’s clothing was beautiful, the fabrics they used, the stylish designs he’d seen the girls on the ship sport. Men’s clothing just, well it was meant to be masculine and boring. Right? He couldn’t let himself give in to that want to feel pretty, that would be wrong.
Right?
Bea, clearly noticing his inner struggle, scoffed.
“Sonny.”
“Sanji.” “Right. Sonny, I’ve been doing this for a long time.” “You, uh, you already said that.”
“I know that!” Bea snapped, swatting at him. Sanji’s gaze drifted back to the pink lace. “I’ve been doing this for a long time. When I started, well, I made boring beige bras and the same lacy black underwear again, and again, and again. I got bored. I got creative! And when I got creative, I became determined to make people feel pretty. People, Sonny, not women.”
Sanji went rigid, his throat was so dry. Was he that obvious? All he could make out was a simple, “Oh?”
Bea grinned. “Everyone deserves the right to feel pretty.” Sanji opened his mouth to speak but the old woman just held up a wrinkled hand. “Nope. Don’t care if you’re a ‘man’. Everyone. Sonny, one day you’ll realise that being a ‘man’ is more than just grunting like an ape, or never showing any vulnerability, or even having a penis. Man is a state of mind, and Sonny, the sooner you feel comfortable in who you are, the more beautiful life is going to be for you.”
Sanji felt breathless. “Really?”
“Really.” Bea nodded, a fondness in her eyes. “Come, we’ll get you a choker to go with it, I have just the one.”
Sanji felt a million miles away as Bea led him to the shop counter. She handled a delicate pink satin choker with care, presenting it to him. It was a giant bow, a simple snap holding it in place around the neck. Simple, but delicate. If Sanji was honest with himself, he liked it.
“Like a million berry! Your precious one will love you in it!” Bea smiled fondly at him. “So, Sonny, you buying?”
Sanji sucked in a deep breath. When he spoke his voice was foreign to him, a shakiness underlying the wispiness. Sanji felt like he was treading water, unsure and scared of the newness of it all. He could drown at any moment.
“Yeah.”
“Good, good!”
So Sanji paid. Bea took extra care to wrap the lingerie up in a delicate pink tissue paper. His own little present. She then promptly put it in an unmarked bag. She understood, shooting him a wink.
“So, anyone, huh?”
“Oh yes, yes. You see, originally I made them for my girlfriend when I was a much younger lady. She was a farmer’s daughter, wonderful girl, shared many a kiss with her, and then some! Now I make these lovely ones for my current husband. You remind me a lot of him, Sonny. You see he lets me wear this harness thing that I put in his a-”
“Thank you grandma, I’ll be out of here now!”
“Yes, yes. Good luck, Sonny! Stop by with your sweetie and get something nice one day, okay?” Bea waved her goodbyes from the doorway, smiling that same sweet old woman smile. Sanji clutched the bag to his chest tightly. 
Right. Time to put the plan into place.
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twigg96 · 1 year ago
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Right Here with You
Daryl X Reader
Place: The HIlltop
POV: You
Pronouns: You/ Your/ They/ She/ Her/ Wife
Warnings: Fluffy fluff, Domestic Fluff, Phoenix acting out, Pregnancy, Complications with pregnancy, Birth, anxiety, worry,
Summary: After the Savior's War you find out your unexpectantly pregnant with your third. You and Daryl move through the motions as best you can surviving the best you always do.
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Ever since the Saviors War, you and Daryl had found yourselves visiting the Hilltop more and more. Hershel had just turned one. Phoenix liked to visit and help her auntie Maggie and neither of you minded her using all of her energy doing the mundane tasks Maggie assigned her. Beau was fascinated with the youngster and when you both started to visit after his birth would often be found staring down at him with wide curious eyes whispering imaginative stories to the baby. As time went on however, Beau became strangely clingy to you. You wrote it off as just normal jealousy. That since there was a child younger than him he wanted attention from you he had to make sure you gave him equal treatment.
But strangely enough his behavior persisted for months past when you thought it would stop. Even when you had caught a summer flu that had you down for nearly a week, Beau was clinging to you like a life line. Each time anyone tried to pull him away he screamed at the top of his lungs, kicking and screaming until he could scramble back into your embrace.
So you sat on the wrap-around-porch of the Hilltop with Maggie. She had just finished feeding her little one and handed him to you to hold while she went inside for a quick meeting. Bouncing Hershel on your knee you listened to him happily babble nothingness to you, smiling away. "Is that so?" You whispered back once in a while, giggling as he squealed reaching out with chubby fingers to grab at your face. "Am I interruptin'?" Daryl teased, trudging up the stairs, dripping in sweat, completely filthy from whatever work he had been doing around the Hilltop. "Nah. Just listening to his complaints." You teased back, lifting Hershel up for him to take. Daryl smiled taking the baby from you looking at the baby for a moment. "Ah... he don't look like he's got a lot to complain 'bout... 'sept the mashed peas taste like shit." He laughed as the little one giggled waving his arms around energetically as if to agree with him.
Feeling a soft tug at your shirt you sighed and rolled your eyes. Without even looking down you smiled, reaching down to pat your son on the head. "Well, hello there... how can I help you Beau?" You asked. Beau whined, yanking at your clothes, desperately trying to scale your body and climb into your lap. "Hey... no Beau." Daryl chided, shuffling Hershel in his arms. "C'mon you said ya wanted to come with me ta talk to yer aunt Maggie. So let's go." He muttered. Opening your legs a bit so you could hug your son close you sighed into his hair. "Go on now. Go go keep your Daddy company." You whispered, kissing his crown. But instead of pulling away, you felt him lay his head and his little hands rub your tummy. "I'm so excited, Momma." He giggled. You couldn't help but laugh cocking a curious brow. "Excited for what, baby?" You asked meeting Beau's brilliant blue eyes. "I'm excited for the baby in your belly Momma!" He started and instantly you felt your breath catch in your throat and your skin blanch. Meeting your husband's worried glance you could tell this was news to him too. And why wouldn't it be... you weren't pregnant.
Before you could even speak, Beau had kissed your tummy and pulled away running over to Daryl, holding his hand tightly. "Yeah! There is a baby in your belly like when auntie Maggie had her baby. And when you have him it'll be so cute!" He giggled, bouncing up and down, using Daryl's hand like a spring. "Beau..." Daryl mumbled looking nearly just as sick as you felt. "Who told you Momma had a baby in her belly?" He asked. Your little hellion looked up at Daryl and smiled. "No one... I just know." A wave of nausea crashed over you which absolutely did not help the situation. By the look on your husband's face he felt about the same... ever since the whisperers started to become a problem, none of you ever felt completely comfortable. A new baby... thrown into this... it always was dangerous but now of all times. Right after you just got Daryl back... when you still felt so raw? You felt lightheaded and unsure. But then again it was just something your son said... right?
Standing slowly you turned to the door as it creaked open. Maggie stood smiling, Jesus by her side. "Know what?" She asked, stepping forward holding her arms out to take her son from Daryl. "Momma's got a baby in her belly!" Beau yelled before either you or Daryl could react. Both of the Hilltop residents looked completely shocked, looking from Daryl to you back to Daryl. "Well, congratulations..." Jesus said smirking a slight hint of a tease in his voice. Daryl sighed rolling his eyes as he handed Hershel to Maggie, but you for whatever reason couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed, cornered. "We ain't pregnant." You bit out a little too venomously for anyone's liking. Maggie frowned, holding Hershel to her chest. "Well... Judith was my early warning... she told me and..." She went silent looking to the wood of the porch swallowing a lump in her throat. "That's when I first tested ya know." She whispered. Jesus nodded along. "A lot of the children here have predicted pregnancies... if anything you should at least-" But you didn't let him finish, turning on your heel you huffed, holding your middle you stormed down the stairs. "I said I ain't pregnant!"
"Hey!" Daryl's annoyed voice called out to you as you stormed through the fields of the Hilltop. watching as people hulled wood from one place to another. Trailer doors opening and closing as people filed in and out. Hammers working tirelessly at the heavy wooden wall. You only stopped when you felt Daryl's strong fingers wrap around your wrist. "[Y/N]!" He nearly yelled, pulling you to a stop with him. "Hey! God damn it! Stop and talk ta me." He huffed. The world around you felt like it was moving all too quickly but not fast enough. Your chest felt tight and like there wasn't enough air in the world to supply you. Turning to face your husband you shook your head as the first sob rattled you both. "I-I" You got out just as he pulled you close. "Hey..." He whispered into your hair. "Take a deep breath... tell me what's gonin' on in that head of yers." You couldn't help it. You wailed. You made a scene. Clinging to Daryl like a lifeline you let yourself release the tense anxiety that had been drowning you ever since the day Negan took him well over a year ago. And maybe Daryl understood this because he never said a word edgewise. He never tried to move you. He simply let you do what you needed. And as your sobs died down and you were able to formulate sentences you tried your damnedest to make sense. "I- sorry." You started, only to be shushed with a gentle kiss to your temple. "It's alright, don't ever feel sorry baby. Just tell me... what's wrong."
Clutching to his shirt you pulled away looking deep into Daryl's blue eyes. "I just got you back..." You whispered, tears rolling down your cheeks. Daryl stayed silent but you could see it written on his face. That shared uncertainty. The fear of losing each other you both experienced. "I'm right here, darlin' girl." He whispered cupping your cheek gently. You nodded, reaching up to mirror him. "I know... I know and I could never be more grateful, Daryl. But..." You closed your eyes feeling the hot tears stream down your cheek only to be swiped away by his calloused thumb. "But, nothin'." He whispered back, taking your wrist in his other hand he turned his head, gently kissing the inside of your palm then your wrist. "I am right here. I'm right here with you. That's all that matters. Ya told me that when I first came home didn't ya?" You nodded staring longingly up at your husband. Daryl smiled kissing your wrist once more before pulling you closer, wrapping your arm around his neck. "Then we'll get through this... no matter what happens. Always do." You blushed, wrapping your arms around his neck as he leaned down to kiss you sweetly. "Love you, Dare..." You whispered into his mouth. Pulling away he smiled. "I love you more than anything... now lets get you tested."
Staring down at the little pink plus sign you felt yourself shaking and turning pale. Daryl held you close to his chest, his chin resting atop your head. "Mrs. Dixon." Dr. Carson prodded, frowning at the pair of you, pulling gloves over his hands. "I'd like to preform an ultrasound if that's alright? To determine how far along you are." Glancing hesitantly to Daryl, he scanned your face. "Up to you, baby. I'll be with you every step of the way no matter what you choose." He murmured, but there was a sadness to his eyes you could see. You had been strong with every child you bore. Phoenix who had been a complete surprise to you both who were both still just teenagers yourselves. Beau who you could say was planned but in reality was just as big a surprise as Phoenix. Turning to the doctor you nodded. "We can do this..." You muttered hesitantly. Dr. Carson smiled ushering you over to the exam table. "Just lift your shirt a little. We can do an internal later if you feel you need one." He said softly, plugging the machines in and getting the jelly out of the cabinet you just knew would be cold as ice. Jumping onto the side of the table you laid down, wincing away from the coldness of the metal.
"Sorry. Wish I could have a better area but..." the OBGYN sighed as he clicked a few buttons on the machine. Daryl stepped to stand beside you taking your hand he squeezed it reassuringly. Holding the wand high Dr. Carson turned the screen so that the three of you could all watch. "Ready?" He asked, not waiting for an answer as he pressed the wand against your tummy. "Sorry if it's cold." He muttered, fully focused on the screen as it came to life in a bright array of whites and greys. You whined, trying to sit as still as you could for the man as he pressed it harder into your full bladder but you couldn't help but pull away slightly. "I know it's uncomfortable..." Dr. Carson whispered, twisting the wand to the right pressing a few buttons and then to the left. "Alright... moment of truth." He said twisting it downward. You had expected to see a sea monkey or a bean like you had when you found out you were pregnant with Phoenix. Maybe even an alien looking ameba. But if you hadn't been laying down, you would have most certainly fallen to your ass when the doctor showed you both a fully formed, kicking, moving baby inside you. "What the-" You squealed. "Well..." The doctor chuckled. "You're most defiantly pregnant."
Daryl's hand slipped from your own as he stagged back, siting in the chair beside the table staring up at the screen in disbelief and shock. "H-How?!" You whined, gesturing to your flat stomach. You hadn't shown... at all. "Are you asking how you got pregnant? Because if you two need the talk after three kids I might need to put you on a makeshift birth control..." Carson joked, smirking as you glared and wound back to smack him. "No... but seriously." He chuckled, handing you a towel to wipe your stomach off with. "You're having a cryptic pregnancy." He said suddenly becoming serious. "You're lucky we caught it now, even though it's as late as it is. Most women who experience them never find out until they go into labor. Especially now it could lead to a very serious and dangerous birth for you and your baby." He said, rolling the machine away. "You could have gone into labor out on a run... or worse in the middle of escaping the walkers or whisperers.” The doctor said watching your face blanch in horror.
“That’s not to mention the other complications this type of pregnancy causes.” He muttered, tossing his gloves in the bin before grabbing a small clear model of a pregnant torso with a little extendable belly. “What normally happens is that the uterus fills with fluid and falls into place in your pelvis here under your other organs pushing the belly out.” Carson said squeezing the little devise to make the uterus enlarge and the belly grow. “You however,” he said covering the belly and pushing the uterus back in. “Have either grown too strong of abdominal muscles and it is holding your uterus inside. Or during the birth of Beau you tore some vital ligaments and it’s keeping your uterus from having the room it needs to grow. Either way, your uterus is moving all your organs up and out of place.” He pointed to the model and how the little jelly organs moved when he pushed the belly in. Carson went silent for a moment placing the model down before sighing. “There is a higher chance of stillbirth, SIDS, and even higher mother mortality with this type of pregnancy. Due to the strange placement of the uterus and chance of preexisting injury it may be harder to push or even cause the child to get stuck on the pelvis and can require a cesarean. You'll both need to consider your options carefully.” He muttered softly refusing to meet your eyes. “I’m very sorry.” Covering your face you tried not to gag or scream. “Fuck… fuck.” You whispered hot tears rolling down your face.
Guilt washed through you as your breath hitched in your throat. Daryl was by your side in a second, you could feel his calloused hand wrapping around your wrist desperate to move it away from your face. "I-I... I smoked. I drank. I was doing heavy lifting." You whispered desperately, letting your husband pry your hand away. "You didn't know." He countered but you could see the fear swirling in his eyes. Carson nodded. "We do our best with the information we have, [Y/N]." He muttered reassuringly. "Just stay away from the stuff from now on til baby comes." He said in the most cartoony doctor voice you had ever heard. "You can lift things in moderation but I want you here so I can keep an eye on you and monitor your birth... and I really don't want you walking or riding home if you can avoid it. The least amount of danger we can put you in the better. If I had to guess your only a few weeks away from having this little one." He said handing you a picture of your ultrasound. "I'll leave you two alone to talk. Just make sure to lock the door when you leave." He said softly, touching your hand.
Watching the doctor walk out of the makeshift clinic you sighed. Laying your head back on the paper like pillow you sniffled. "Do you know what this means?" You whispered to Daryl, meeting his stormy eyes. He stayed silent scanning your face for an answer. "It means we gotta get Carol to make our son cookies." You whispered a sly smile crossing your lips. Daryl chuckled a smile blooming across his own face. "Scoot over, woman." He laughed shooing you over on the exam table. Laying down beside you, Daryl draped his arm around your body holding you close. "Oh, god we're gonna have to get the nursery ready." You whispered, swiping at your tear stained face. "We are." Daryl agreed, nuzzling his head against yours. "Do we still have Beau's old crib or did we give that away?" You asked, gripping your hair. "It's in the attic." Daryl whispered. "We need new cloth diapers I think we burnt Beau's old ones..." You whined. "We did." Daryl hummed, threading his leg through your own.
You seemed to relax slightly holding the little black and white photo up. Your thumb swiped over the baby in the picture. "I wonder if it'll be a girl or a boy?" You whispered. "As long as both of my girls are healthy I don't care." He hummed. "You don't want another boy?" You asked curiously. "Nah... boys fight. Girls don't do that." He muttered curling in on you. "That's a lie and you know it." You giggled. "Phoenix has kicked boys asses before." You giggled as Daryl let out a satisfied hum. "She better always be that way too." He chuckled. You whined playfully. "Phoenix was a big baby, Daryl. Beau was an even bigger baby." You reminisced. Daryl chuckled. "Yeah, they were." He laughed until you bopped him on the back of the head with the ultrasound photo. "You gave me big ass kids Daryl!" You whined, handing him the picture. "Has ta come from yer side." He hummed, sitting up on an elbow. "Merle said I was a month and a half premature." You stared at him silently for a momet as your fingers carded through his hair. He already told you this... several times before. With Beau when you were as big as a beach ball and when Phoenix was small Merle always commented about how much bigger she was at her age than Daryl was being "unseasonable".
"Do you think we can really do this again?" You asked, turning your gaze from the picture to Daryl. Your husband shrugged. "We gotta try right?" He hummed looking up to you. You nodded, scooting closer to him. "Yeah..." You whispered letting your hand fall to your tummy for the first time. Nothing. Not a kick. Not a flutter. Not even a butterfly. It frustrated you. "You ever hear of a cryptic pregnancy before?" You asked. Daryl hummed moving his hand above yours. "No." You sighed, turning your head away. "Don't do that. This isn't your fault." Daryl whispered. "Yes it is, my body is-" You replied, closing your eyes. But Daryl cut you off. "Darlin' girl." He hummed kissing your neck. "You're perfect and I'll make damned sure everything turns out alright. Ya have my word."
Slowly. Steadily a week passed at the Hilltop. And while you still felt totally normal, you felt the heat the eyes made drilling into the back of your head. Already you were starting to go a little stir crazy inside the walls. You never liked to be confined. Dr. Carson let you stand guard up on the wall with the exception that someone stand with you and you didn’t actively put yourself in danger. Daryl left on the second day after you assured him for the umpteenth time that you weren’t about to have the baby without him. He radioed back from the Kingdom when he arrived. But before he could get a word in edge wise he was cut off by Carol. “Who told you two you could have more munchkins!” She screamed over the radio. “I’m so happy for you two!” You giggled. “Thanks Carol.” “So have you thought of any names yet?” Carol asked seemingly both of you as you heard Daryl’s struggle to get his radio back over the waves. “Not yet C. You’ll be one of the first to know when we do.”
“Do ya know what yer havin’ yet?” Maggie asked softly, walking side by side with you, later the same day. She was carrying half of the wood you would normally carry to the drying rack. You hummed, shaking your head. “Nah. Dare and I always liked it to be a surprise with Phoenix and Beau. Figured we’d keep the tradition with this literal surprise.” You giggled placing the wood down on top of the ever growing pile. “How’d ya know it ain’t twins?” Maggie teased. But the mere thought of it made you choke on your own spit and gasp for air. “Jesus, Maggie don’t put that nasty juju on me!” You wailed wiping away the spit from your chin as Maggie laughed so hard she was bent over her legs clenched to keep from peeing herself. But when your next appointment with the doctor came you couldn’t help but to crane your neck to see the monitor. “Looking for something?” Carson asked. “Making sure there’s not two in there.” You muttered to the doctor who only laughed and shook his head.
As the second week dawned Daryl spent most of his time between the Hilltop, on runs looking for baby supplies, and Alexandria. When he came back he told you all about the preparations he was making to your home. “I moved the crib down from the attic and found some diapers in Beau’s old things so we’re good there.” Daryl muttered taking a bite out of the crab apple he picked up from the ground. “We kept those? Ew.” You whispered making your husband laugh. His strong arm wrapped around you as you walked, pulling you close to him. You could feel his large hand rubbing circles on your flat tummy. “Did you remember to feed Dog before you left?” You asked absentmindedly turning your eyes to the changing colors of the leaves. “Like always.” He hummed. “Do you think he’ll be good with the baby?” You whispered, leaning down to pick up one of the leaves. “He’s always been good with Phoenix and Beau. Don’t see why that would change with this one.” Daryl lied. But you shrugged letting it slide. “Wish I could feel ‘er.” Daryl muttered, his mouth full of apple. “Me too.” You deadpanned.
Little did you know that you would both be wishing for the exact opposite in just a few hours time. It started in the middle of the night. You felt what you thought was fluttering. Maybe gas. But soon that gas became painful and you knew this feeling. Reaching behind you in bed you patted your husband awake. “Baby, I think I’m going into labor.” You whispered tiredly. You giggled feeling Daryl’s strong arms pull you closer to him, his stubble tickling your bare shoulder. “It bad yet?” He asked tiredly, his drawl stronger in the dead of the night. You knew from experience Daryl knew when to panic. That he would understand when it was go time or not. But this was early stages of labor. Simply moving his hand from your chest to your stomach to act as hot water bottle you hummed. “Nah not yet.” You felt his hot breath on your neck as he sighed. “Good. Try and get some more sleep.”
Hours passed. The ache that once felt like cramps radiated to your back uncomfortably but not overwhelmingly painful. You paced back and forth in front of the house trying to ignore the way everyone's eyes were on you. "You could be doing anything other than staring." You tried not to hiss glaring at your husband and two children. Daryl cocked a brow, leaning back on the porch stairs. "What d' ya need me to do?" He asked. Phoenix worriedly watched you from her place beside him. Beau on the other hand was all too interested in the little bug crawling on the wood of the stairs to care. If anyone had a camera and could capture a photograph, in the old world the picture would have sold for millions in the old world. "I want you to stop staring at me. Go find something better to do." You growled. Phoenix sighed patting her father on the shoulder before she stood. "Whatever you say..." She huffed. "but you both should consider getting fixed!" She screamed, kicking a metal bucket full of water over as she walked away. You wanted to yell at her. The hormones throwing a rave in your body were telling you to scream and cry. But instead you took a deep breath trying to breath through the next wave of the contraction crashing through you. Daryl stared at the ground in front of him, biting at the skin around his thumb. "She's j'st worried." Daryl murmured, instinctively wrapping his arm around Beau's waist to keep him from tumbling off the porch, reaching for the flying beetle.
Tears slipped down your cheeks when the pain slowly started to get worse. You had managed to make it back inside to your shared bedroom. Kneeling beside the bed you rocked side to side, Daryl right beside you, his hands on your sides acting as heating pads. "On a scale of one to ten where are you?" He whispered. Your low groan stopped you from answering. "Do you need me to get Carson?" He whispered, daring to kiss your collar bone. Shaking your head you let out a sob. "I-I'm not ready." You whispered. "Yes you are." Daryl whispered kissing the shell of your ear. "You have two beautiful kids and your gonna do great with this one." You sobbed again shaking your head. "W-We didn't even pick a name." You whined, groaning as another contraction ripped you in half. "We'll know when we see her. Just like we did with Phoenix and Beau. We'll know." He whispered kissing your cheek. "Now I'm going to get Carson."
You fucking hated this. You hated Carson looking at you down there. You hated that you were in an uncomfortable bed that smelled of old people and moth balls. You hated that you could hear Greggory screaming about staining the linens from outside your door and Maggie doing her best to keep him from barging in. You hated that your fucking god damn knees were being held up behind your head like a fucking pretzel by Daryl and Jesus. But overall it was the pain you hated most. With Phoenix it hurt, sure but you were drugged up for the bottom of the ninth so you didn't feel it after they kicked in. With Beau the pain was more from the ripping when he came too fast for your body to adjust. But with this one... the pain was different and overwhelming. Bearing down just as Carson instructed you pushed with all your strength. Sweat dripped down your face. You tried not to scream or moan. Carson said it was it was a waist of energy. But when it became too much for you to bare you couldn't help it. As the contraction ended you gasped, slumping against the pillows behind you. "Doin' great darlin' girl. Just keep fighting. Don't give up." Daryl breathed, rubbing your thigh, lovingly. Jesus on the other hand looked like he was about ready to be sick. "Y-Yeah..." He managed to get out. "Just... do that."
Before you could manage an answer you could feel another contraction ebbing its way up your spine. "Fuck..." You whimpered. "You're so close to crowning, [Y/N]. Just keep it up." Carson praised, reaching up to help pull you forward and help you to bare down. Holding tight to your thighs you moaned beginning to push with Carson's encouragement. "There you go! There's the head!" Carson yelled, moving his hands down. Jesus paled, turning completely towards the wall. But Daryl... Daryl moved so that he could see his baby being born. His face lit up in a way you had only seen happen two times before. With one more good push you felt it happen. At first there was silence. You were too afraid to breath. You could see Carson moving swiftly below you, grabbing towels and wet cloths. You could see him rubbing the baby's back. "C'mon." he whispered. And suddenly you had a whole new fear as the men holding your legs let them down gently. But when you watched the little baby twitch and heard the sudden inhale followed by the tiny most perfect cry you had ever heard a baby make you couldn't help but sob. Handing you the wriggling bundle Carson smiled. "It's a girl." He whispered. You sobbed, moving the little blanket from her face. "She's beautiful." You whispered watching Daryl cut her cord. "She's so tiny." Daryl replied holding out his finger to his tiniest daughter who instantly grasped it in her hand. "Lilybeth?" You whispered looking to Daryl. "Nah, don't sound right..." He hummed, caressing your daughter's cheek with his thumb. "Lilian?" He offered making you smile. "Perfect. Lilian Beth Dixon." He smiled kissing you then her head. "Now c'mon. let's get you cleaned up, momma."
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mads-weasley · 2 years ago
Text
Here With You
Lewis Nixon x Reader
Masterlist
A/N: Hey y'all! I've never written for Nix, but I wanted to try, so here it is! I hope you enjoy it! I do not own any of the rights to these characters.
Summary: During the liberation of Eindhoven, (y/n) and Lew finally share a sweet moment, but it is soon shattered by a drunken local with one thing on his mind.
Warnings: attempted assault, mentions of blood, fighting
(y/h/c) - your hair color
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September 1944
The streets of Eindhoven were filled with celebrating Dutch, bright orange flags waving from every window. (Y/n) couldn't help but smile at the sight of a people who were under oppression for so long becoming a free town once again.
As she walked through the happy mob, she made sure to stay right with Lew and Dick.
"Can you believe this?" Nixon asked, looking around them in awe.
She smiled up at her husband. "It's crazy. I know."
Taking her hand, he sent a smirk her way, knowing no one would notice the couple amongst the chaos of the celebration.
Their intelligence had suggested that the Netherlands and Holland were nothing but old men and kids, but they were all wary to accept that. Once they were there, though, the men let their guards down and enjoyed the festivities the town provided.
Pushing through the crowds, people grabbed at them and kissed her cheek. A few even tried to kiss her straight on the lips but she managed to swerve them in time. She rolled her eyes and swatted Nix's arm when he whispered, "Is it my turn for a kiss?"
A few minutes later, a few children came running up to her, attaching themselves to her legs. They couldn't have been more than 5 years old. Dropping Lewis' hand, she crouched in front of them. Their wide toothy grins brought a wide smile to her face.
"Hi, there. My name is (y/n)."
Not responding, one of them reached out and gently pulled on her dog tags, while another pointed at her American flag patch.
"I'm an American soldier."
"Amer-can?" A small blonde boy asked, thick with his accent.
"Yes!" She exclaimed. "American."
Beaming, he put his hand up to his chest. "Finn."
"Hi, Finn," (y/n) whispered, holding out her hand to shake his tiny one.
Little did she know that above her, Nixon was watching on with soft eyes at the interaction. Watching her with the children warmed his heart to no end, and those moments were rare now that they were at war. When they did happen, most of the time they were because of his loving wife.
Even though he was standing in a crowd of people, he felt as if he, (y/n), and the kid were the only ones there. He couldn't help thinking back to the first time something like that had happened; when the world stopped spinning. It was the first time he'd laid eyes on her, and he would never forget it.
1939
"Dad, can I please just skip out on one party? I've been to too many. They're all the same. Ever-" A 21-year-old Lewis Nixon pleaded as he fixed his tie in the mirror.
His father wouldn't budge, as usual. "No. You're going. End of discussion."
With a sigh, Lewis finished getting ready, buttoning up his suit as his sister, Blanche walked into the room, flopping dramatically on his bed.
"I refuse to go to another party where creepy old men try to flirt with me, Lew. I just can't do it."
He turned around from the mirror. "Me, too. I hate talking to a bunch of rich old jerks-"
"Like father," she interrupted.
"Yes, like father."
Their mother's voice made an appearance as she walked into the room. "You two need to give this party a chance. You never know, maybe this one could be different."
"Yeah, I'll believe it when I see it," he snarked.
A few hours later, Lewis Nixon sure did believe it after seeing a beautiful girl walk down the staircase in a bright royal blue dress, her curled (y/h/c) hair cascading down her back. At that moment, everything stopped. What the man beside him was saying became background noise as he only focused on her.
As she reached the bottom of the steps, she was met with Blanche, who smiled and embraced her. When she returned the smile, the boy lost his breath.
Without taking his eyes off her, he stopped their butler as he passed.
"Who is that?" He questioned breathlessly.
Following Nix's eyes, he smiled. "(Y/n) (y/l/n). She doesn't have a date, either, sir."
Breaking his trance, Lew nodded thanks at the man before walking over to the two girls. On the way, he passed a waiter, quickly grabbing two glasses of champagne from his tray.
"Hello ladies," he greeted cooly.
Blanche didn't spare him a glance. "Hey, Lew."
Looking over at (y/n), he held out his hand. "Lewis Nixon. And what would your name be?"
Grinning, she took his hand but let out a surprised laugh when he brought it up to his lips. "So you're one of those guys, huh?"
"And what type of guy is that?" He asked, intrigued.
She glanced down at the extra glass of champagne in his hand, raising an eyebrow. "The rich, cool, Ivy League student who thinks they can get any girl they want by flashing a smile and bringing a glass of champagne. I bet you live for parties like this to show off your status."
Blanche laughed hysterically, champagne almost spewing from her nose. She cursed as she spilled some on her dress.
"I'll be back", she muttered, heading towards the bathroom.
Turning his attention back on (y/n), Lewis downed the extra champagne glass in one gulp. "Alright. That statement is only half correct."
"Okay, what's not right, then?"
"Yes, I'm a rich, Ivy Leaguer. No, this champagne was not for you-"
(Y/n) chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Yeah right."
"And I actually hate these parties with everything in me."
"I somehow find that hard to believe, Mr. Nixon."
"Lewis, please. And when you've grown up being forced to go to these things, trying to fit into the high-class society gets tiring, and frankly, I wish I wasn't even associated with it whatsoever."
Seeing the serious expression in his eyes, she believed him. Something about him was different. Maybe her assumptions were wrong after all.
"You are something else, Lewis." She chimed, walking away from him. "I hope I'll see you around. And if not, you can ask Blanche where to find me."
Lew ran a hand through his hair, sighing at the interaction. "Oh boy. I'm in trouble." He whispered to himself, drinking the other glass of champagne in his hand.
Present Day - 1944
He's dragged out of his thoughts by Harry asking him something.
"What?"
"I said, we should get moving."
Nix nodded, squatting next to (y/n). "Hey, sweetheart. I'm sorry but we've gotta get a move on."
"Okay," she sighed, saying goodbye to the children who threw their small arms around her.
As they walked further into the town, Lew had a hand gently placed on the small of her back, leading her through the crowd. Suddenly, two girls barreled past (y/n) and threw themselves onto Lewis, who shrunk back from the women, trying to get away. Laughing, (y/n) grabbed his hand and pulled him away from them.
She looked up at him as if to say something but was cut off by his lips crashing against hers. Pulling away, she quickly looked around them, not seeing any Easy Company men watching. In fact, the only one she saw was Talbert, and his attention was fully captured by the girl he was making out with.
"Lewis Nixon. What do you think you're doing?"
"I'm kissing my wife."
"As much as I wish we could, the men can't know."
"Why not?" He challenged, raising an eyebrow. "Why can't they?"
"Because..."
"Exactly! You can't even come up with a reason. We kept it secret in the first place so that it wouldn't cause trouble with Sobel in basic, but now that we're over here, so why not?"
Mulling it over in her head, the young woman couldn't find anything wrong with his plan.
Instead of answering him, she pulled him down by his collar and kissed him roughly. Once out of breath, she pressed her forehead against his. "Yeah. Let em' find out, Lew."
The sweet moment soon ended as Harry pushed past them, grumbling. "Alright. We get it. You two are so in love. Yay for us."
Following him to the other officers, the couple held hands once again. "You're telling me that if Kitty was here, you wouldn't be doing the same thing?" (Y/n) asked, trying to suppress a laugh.
Before he could respond, Buck walked up to the group as they found Winters. "What's up, Welshy?" The blonde asked cheerily.
Harry flipped up his collar with a scowl, looking at (y/n). "Snipers."
She couldn't resist the laugh that bubbled up her throat as she flipped her collar, covering her lieutenant bars.
"We've got to get to these bridges," Dick stated, turning to (y/n), Buck, and Harry. "Round up the men."
With a nod, she started to walk away her arm was caught by Nix.
"Where are you going?" He asked, concern filling his eyes.
She sighed lightly and rubbed his arm, wanting to avoid the overprotective side of her husband. "You heard Dick. I'm getting my men."
"Okay. Please be careful, alright?" He whispered, caressing her cheek softly.
Walking away, she winked at him. "I will be, Lew. Don't worry."
Nix watched her smaller form disappear into the crowd, turning to Dick while shaking his head. "That woman will be the death of me."
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As (y/n) pushed through the celebrating crowd once again, her eyes searches for the familiar screeching eagle patch on her men's uniforms. Just as she saw Liebgott in the distance, a rough pull of her hand had her reeling backward, falling into the chest of someone. Whipping around to face them, she discovered it was a man a little bit older than her with a devilish grin aimed right at her. Instantly, she tried to pull away from the hold he had on her arm.
"Let go," she demanded calmly, raising her left hand to show the ring on her finger. "I'm married."
He jerked her closer to him, and she could smell the alcohol on his breath. "Jammer dat je man niet hier is om te kijken wat ik met je ga doen, meid."
(Y/n) didn't have to understand Dutch for her to get the message as he moved his other hand to grab her butt, pulling her flush against his chest.
"I said let go!" She yelled, thrashing around, trying to get away. His grip only tightened as he angrily let go for a split second and raised his hand to strike her. (Y/n) heard it before she felt it. The loud smacking sound stunned her and was soon followed by a burning sensation radiating from her cheek as the taste of copper filled her mouth.
The man used her shock as an opportunity, smashing his lips to hers. Realizing what was happening, she sealed her lips closed, quickly pulling as far as she could from the man.
Suddenly she reared her head back before slamming it into the man's nose. His hold on her disappeared as he stumbled back, clutching his bloody nose. (Y/n) could see the anger radiating off him as she tried to escape into the crowd.
"Jij amerikaanse teef!" He seethed, following her through the crowd.
Out of breath, she frantically looked for any of her fellow soldiers once again. Tears filled her eyes when she saw an all too familiar head of dark hair sitting in a chair a few feet in front of her.
"Lew!" She cried, glancing over her shoulder at the man who was gaining on her. "Lewis!"
As soon as her desperate cry left her lips, he bolted up from his chair, turning to where the sound came from. The second he saw her terrified expression, he ran to meet her. Just as he was about to bring her into his arms, she yelped, being dragged out of reach by her hair.
"Hey! Let her go!" Nix barked athoritatively, quickly stepping forward and taking a swing at the man.
Being heavily drunk, he didn't have fast enough reflexes to dodge the punch in time. Lewis' fist slammed against the man's jaw with a satisfying crack. Instantly letting go of (y/n), the dutch man wobbled on his feet for a moment, before falling to the ground in a heap.
Nix thought his head was going to explode with rage. He wanted to beat this man to a pulp for what he'd evidently done to (y/n). Moving to crouch over the man do to just that, he felt a strong hand on his shoulder. Dick pulled him back, motioning over to (y/n)'s shaking figure.
"Go help (y/n). She needs you. I'll take care of this." He said lowly.
With a nod, Lew looked over at her and their eyes met. His heart broke at the sight of (y/n)'s face. Tears brimmed her waterline and blood slowly dripped from her lower lip. The worst part was the bright red handprint on her left cheek that infuriated him more than anything before. Rushing over, he pulled her into his arms, kissing her hair lovingly.
“Breathe, darling,” he murmured, fighting off tears of his own. "You're safe, now."
He looked around and found an empty restaurant on the corner. Leading her to the secluded area, he kept a strong arm around her, worried she would fall without it.
Once inside, he sat her down on a chair and pulled another one next to it. Her head was tilted down, facing the floor as she replayed the last few moments in her mind.
She was brought out of her thoughts by her husband's soft touch under her chin, lifting it to face him. Her tears had not yet fallen, and Nix knew she was trying to stay strong.
"It's okay to cry, honey," he whispered, cupping her cheek softly.
At his words, she let out a quiet sob as the tears slipped down her cheeks. He just pulled her closer, allowing her to bury her face into his neck.
"I'm so sorry, Lew. I-I didn't-," she cried, pulling back to look at his concerned face, which quickly morphed into a confused expression.
Nixon's heart broke at her tear-stained cheeks. "You didn't do anything wrong. There's nothing to apologize for," he said softly.
"But I could've fought harde-"
"No," he interrupted. "Do not say that. You did everything you could."
She shot up out of his arms and on her feet, throwing her hands up, shouting. "If I can't even fight off some drunk civilian, how am I supposed to fight in this war against trained German soldiers?"
Nix rose to his feet. "It wasn't your fault, (y/n)!"
"Lewis, I shouldn't be here. I should be-"
"None of us should be here! Half of our men should still be in school, and the other half should be with their families!" He paused, eyes beginning to burn. "W-We should be at home raising a family, not here in Europe fighting, but we are, and nothing we can say is going to change that."
After a few moments of silence, (y/n) walked towards the man, slowly pulling him into a hug.
"Thank you for saving me, Lew," she whispered, voice thick with emotion.
He sighed, burying his face in the crook of her neck. "Of course. Always remember I'm here. Wherever you go-"
"I go," she finished, leaning back and cupping his cheek with one hand. "I love you."
"I love you, too, sweetheart."
He then connected their lips softly, wrapping his arms around her waist when the doors flew open.
"Sir-oh. Sorry for the interruption, uh Lieutenants." Talbert sputtered, wide-eyed.
Parting slowly, Nix groaned as he and (y/n) walked past Tab.
"Can't I get 5 minutes with my wife, for pete's sake," he muttered.
Floyd stood there shocked, and (y/n) chuckled under her breath as they walked back onto the street. When felt a warm hand enclose hers, she knew she would be okay. She also knew that by the end of the day, their secret wouldn't be a secret anymore, and she was perfectly fine with that.
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Tag List:
@typical-simplelove @softguarnere @brassknucklespeirs
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago
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Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨3
Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) sleep paralysis, stress.
This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.
Note: I’m so happy people are liking this story. Thanks so much to everyone reading and sorry if I’m a bit inactive lately, I’ve been exhausted and yesterday didn’t end, I swear.
Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)
I really hope you enjoy. 💋
<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!
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On Monday, you yawned over your keyboard as your fingers moved on instinct alone. Your eyes ran along the text but the words were just letters to you. You had a lot to think about, a lot to do. 
You decided you would skip lunch and get through your work day an hour early so you could head to Clark’s right away. He was hard to deny when he asked if you could make it back so soon. You told him you worked everyday from home and you had hours beside that at the gallery three times a week at least. He accepted it with a nod but his silence was telling so you caved and said you could make it but not until the evening.
You texted Marcus as you waited for your Uber. He had a few hours to go still and you left him everything he needed to make supper with instructions; the veggies were cut, the meat thawed, and the pans already arranged on the stove. You had faith he could manage on his own.
The mansion was just as intimidating as the first time you visited. You walked up the drive and to the front steps. It was human nature to be envious of the sprawling yards and lavish estate and yet, it didn’t feel as if someone could truly live here. It would be like staying in a hotel as you were always overly aware of your every move, afraid to break something or make a mess.
You hammered the large knocker when your soft tapping brought no answer. You heard someone on the other side and wiggled your foot nervously. The door opened and square-faced woman greeted you in another language. You couldn’t tell if it was Swedish, German, or some other dialect. You were never a skilled linguist.
“Um, hi, I’m…”
“Ah, you are the lady painter,” she said, “I remember. I am Nina, Mr. Kent’s housekeeper.”
She turned and beckoned you to follow her. You closed the tall door and trailed her across the spacious foyer and behind the stairs into the kitchen. She turned through another room and led you out through the glass doors that opened onto the pool.
“Miss, would you like a drink? Tea? Coffee?” she asked.
“No, thank you,” you said as the water moved and your eyes were drawn to the figure moving beneath the surface.
“Miss,” Nina nodded and left you.
You stood, awkward and listless, and glanced around at the loungers and the umbrella over the round table. You weren’t entirely sure what to do. Had he forgotten about you?
“Hey,” your gaze was drawn back to the pool. Clark waded to the edge, his broad shoulders and chiseled chest visible as he made his way to the shallow end, “sorry. Lost track of time.”
He grabbed the metal railing and climbed up the stairs. The water slaked off his tight trunks and down his thick thighs. He appeared even larger with less clothes. You looked away before your thoughts lingered too long.
“It’s fine, I should have texted I was on my way,” you said, “I can go wait for you--”
“No worries,” he took his towel and rubbed dry his dark hair. The scruff along his chin was thicker than before, almost a full blown beard, “you’re not in a hurry, are you?”
“No, not really, can’t really rush… painting,” you shrugged, “I just… I didn’t mean to catch you off-guard.”
“Pfft, I’m ready for anything,” he grinned, “but I should also listen to the artist. I’ll go get changed and you can get settled in the studio.” He directed you ahead of him as he approached the sliding doors, “you just finished work? You should take a few minutes to unwind.”
“Uh, yeah, but it’s just, um, typing, not exactly hard labour,” you said as he followed you inside.
“Work is work,” he said, “I will never fault anyone who works hard, regardless of what they do.”
“Yeah, I suppose,” you stifled a yawn behind your hand.
He let out a breath as you came out into the foyer, “I’m sorry, you could’ve… you’re tired. We could have rescheduled. I’m sorry if I came across… pushy yesterday. I don’t mean to take advantage of you.”
“No, no, it’s fine,” you assured him, “I’m fine.”
“Alright,” he said doubtfully, “but you let me know if you need a break.”
“Will do,” you murmured as you neared the stairs.
🎨
You weren’t even close to done just the background of the portrait. Clark really didn’t even need to be there as you shadowed the folds of the curtains around his figure and the marble bust. Your arm hurt from reaching across and up the gigantic canvas and your eyes burned from squinting at your work.
You backed off the ladder carefully with your paintbrush and palette balanced in one hand. The paint was drying and you needed to mix more. You set down your armful and wiped your hands on the rag. He was watching you, he was always watching you. Well, no, he was just looking in your direction; it was all for the portrait.
You hit the button on the side of your phone and gasped. It was midnight. You had several messages from Marcus and you blanched as you unlocked the cell and quickly texted back. You rubbed your eye as you hit send and turned to Clark.
“I didn’t realise it was so late,” you said, “I gotta go.”
“What time is it?” he asked and looked at his watch, “oh.”
He pushed himself to his feet with a grunt and stretched out his arms as he neared. You took your brush and rinsed it in the tinted water in the jar.
“I’ll just clean up as I wait for an Uber,” you said as you let the brush rest in the jar and lifted your phone again.
“I’ll drive you,” he said as he grabbed a rag, “it’s a long way. I’ll hire a driver for you from here on out. It’ll be easier and cheaper.”
“You don’t have to--”
You flinched as he wiped your cheek with the rag. He smiled and showed you the paint on the white cloth.
“I wouldn’t offer it if it was too much trouble,” he tossed the rag down, “and I did have something to talk to you about. The drive will be more than enough to get it sorted.”
“Oh, okay,” you eked nervously. Had you done something wrong? Were you not painting fast enough?
“I’ll meet you downstairs,” he touched your arm gently.
He left you and you finished scraping off the palette and cleaning your brushes. You dumped the jar in the sink just inside the nearest bathroom and rinsed the porcelain back to white. You left everything arranged neatly on the table and descended to the first floor.
Clark stood by the door in a different jacket, his tie gone and the top button undone. He held the door for you and showed you to the garage. There were at least a half-dozen cars inside and he took you to the same silver one he drove the night of the show. You settled in and groaned as the tension left your shoulders.
He started the car as the doors rose behind him and he backed out smoothly. He turned down the long drive and onto the desolate roads of the wealthy countryside. He kept one hand on the wheel and dropped his other to his thigh casually.
“So, your job, you like it?”
“It’s work,” you said, “I get paid to sit at home and type. Half the time, I’m just waiting for an assignment.”
“I asked if you liked it,” he said more pointedly.
“Oh, well, not… really?” you answered, unsure. 
He could be so pleasant and then so blunt. He made you nervous and the more you thought of it, the more you realised you knew almost nothing about this man besides his name. You didn’t know how he made his money or what exactly he did outside of his extravagant mansion.
“If I doubled your fee, would you quit?” he asked without hesitation.
“Quit? This… the painting won’t take forever,” you said, “I can’t really just drop everything--”
“This is an opportunity,” he said, “you could spend your days doing what you love. And who’s to say it’s just one painting? I already have something in mind for the dining room and I have friends asking about you.”
“Friends? Who--”
“One thing at a time,” he said curtly, “I’ll introduce you to them in time. Is it a deal?”
“I… it’s all very sudden, can I think about it?”
He looked at you in the rearview and you caught his eye. For a moment, you were afraid. There was something in his expression that left you breathless. He lifted his hand and stretched his arm between the seats, his fingers gripped the leather just above your shoulder.
“Sure, I’ll give you a couple days,” he said at last.
“I--I’m sorry…” you didn’t know why you were apologizing but it felt appropriate, “I just, I’m tired.”
“It’s fine, sweetheart,” he assured and the epithet hung in the air.
“I have to go to the gallery tomorrow, I’ll get back to you on Wednesday,” you said as you rubbed your chin nervously. Your lips was quivering. He was smiling but you felt his impatience in the small space of the car, “if I… if I say yes, I have to talk to my boss and that might get messy.”
“No problem,” his voice softened, “you take some time and figure it out.” His thumb rubbed the leather seat and he pulled his arm away to grasp the steering wheel, “why don’t you close your eyes. We got some time left.”
You peeked over at him and nodded. 
“Okay,” you murmured and hugged your bag against you as you tried to relax against the leather. You turned your head and looked out the window up at the starry sky. You closed your eyes as the fatigue settled over you but you could only fake dozing as your nerves stormed inside of you.
He was right, it was a great opportunity, but you just couldn’t believe it would last. Was it your own doubt getting to you? Or should you be weary of this fairytale buyer? It was late and you couldn’t think. All those worries could wait until tomorrow.
🎨
You crept into the dark apartment. It was after one and you foresaw a long day ahead of you. You’d get maybe four hours in before it all started again. You put your purse down and went into the bedroom, undressing in the shadows and crawling into bed next to Marcus as the colours of the tv moved around him. The playlist he was casting kept on even as he slept.
He grunted as you laid on your back and he turned to graze your arm with his fingertips. 
“You’re home,” he grumbled and kissed your cheek, “I was worried.”
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, “I… it’s so far out there and it’s a lot of work. The canvas is like nine feet-- I’m sorry, I’ll let you sleep.”
“No, no, it’s okay,” his voice was gristly as he propped himself up on his elbow, “you’re gonna finish the job right?”
“I don’t know,” you said, “I don’t know if I can.”
“Of course you can,” Marcus insisted, “I mean, at that price, you can do anything.”
“It’s not about the money, Marcus,” you huffed, “I don’t know if it’s worth all this. Going back and forth…” you ran your hands over your face, “he wants me to quit my job and just paint for him.”
“You should,” Marcus said blithely, “why not? He’s paying you well enough.”
“And what about when I’m done,” you whined.
“You’ll find more work. Vanessa even offered to take on more of your work in her shows, so what’s the problem? Isn’t this what you want?”
“Y-yeah, it is but… I don’t know, it just seems too good to be true.”
“You do this and we might even have enough for a down payment,” he said, “something had to give after all these years. Why can’t it be this?”
You looked at him and tried to smile, “you’re only saying that because he has a pool.”
“Maybe,” he kidded, “but I also want it for you. You spend all your free time painting anyhow so why not get paid for it?”
“Mhmm,” you mumbled, “yeah, I just don’t know why I feel so… I don’t know. It just all seems off.”
“Sleep on it, you’ll feel better,” he leaned over and kissed your lips that time, “love you.”
“Love you,” you echoed as he grabbed the remote and shut off the tv.
You closed your eyes as the darkness shrouded you and despite your anxiety, you fell into a deep sleep. You didn’t even roll onto your side before you sank into your REM but found yourself caught in limbo. The abstract and intense sensation of paralysis overtook your body and your eyelids flicked open.
It was an awful feeling you knew too well. You knew you were dreaming, you knew it was all in your mind, but your body was filled with sand and your subconscious conjured visions of doom. The tall man stood by the door as he always did and just stared. He got closer, just a little at a time, and you fought to move just a finger and free yourself from the trance.
You felt like you were drowning as your body remained heavy and unmoving. He was getting closer and closer. As he did, his figure changed and his shoulders got wider as his features came clear in the slat of the streetlight that leaked between the curtains. It was Clark staring down at you, his blue eyes sinister and sparkling. 
He reached for you and you woke with a start as your name rose from his lips. You inhaled sharply and looked over at Marcus as he snored. It was only the two of you. You reached for your phone, it was just after three. You turned onto your side but your heart still raced. It always happened when you were stressed, the dreams felt so real that you never really came back down after.
You stared at the wall and curled up under the blanket. You didn’t expect to get much sleep anyway, not with the question on your mind. Should you quit and live your dream or should you kill all hope before life did it for you?
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i-need-entertainment · 4 years ago
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Haikyuu!! Boys getting accidentally hit ‘where it hurts’ by their kids
Characters: Akaashi, Washio, Konoha, Kita, Suna, Ushijima, Yahaba, Iwaizumi, Futakuchi, Daishou, Numai and Iizuna
Happy Easter if you celebrate it!! I thought a fluffy little hc’s of the Haikyuu!! Boys with their babies would be cute for today so here we are~
Warnings: Uh- just our favorite boys getting hit in the balls, I’m seeking more therapy I laughed way too hard while writing this uHm, mentions of grabbing the crotch cause what else you gonna do??, I do reference the Bad-dad moments and being flashed posts. 
**POST TIMESKIP CAUSE CHILDREN!! YOU AND THE HAIKYUU!! BOYS ARE MARRIED~ ALSO THE NUMBER OF KIDS THEY HAVE CAME FROM THE BAD-DAD MOMENTS!!**
@foodacoochie I thought you might want to see this~
Akaashi Keiji: 
Today was Akaashi’s day off, so naturally he wanted to spend it with his family!
You were all situated in the living room, your youngest who was a little over 1 sitting on your lap, and your oldest, who was about 3 was sitting across from Akaashi.
Akaashi was on his knees, throwing a tennis ball like thing back and forth with your 3 year old son, who was standing.
Everything was going great, just some wholesome family fun.
Until Akaashi said ‘give it all you got!’ his child smiled, wound up, and-
‘OOF-’ you watched as your husband immediately hunched over, falling to his side as his hands flew to his crotch.
Your eyes widened as you tried not to laugh, your son however started giggling when his father groaned, your baby following suit.
“K-keiji? *snicker* are- *ahem* are you okay?” You barely got through the sentence before you started laughing, Akaashi just slowly nodded, eventually returning to his knees.
He was much, much more conscious of his lower region from that point on.
Washio Tatsuki: 
It was Halloween time, and you and Washio had taken your 3 kids to a pumpkin patch!
You guys have 3 kids, the oldest two are 5 (fraternal twins, 1 boy 1 girl), and the youngest is 2.
The farm had made several ‘haunted houses’, one for little kids and one for teens+
Your twins had decided they wanted to go in the haunted house!
Well, your son did. Your daughter was not thrilled.
But! When her daddy offered to hold her hand the whole time, she decided she could brave it out, after all it is Washio we’re talking about.
You stayed by the entrance with your 2 year old, while Washio took the twins inside.
Everything was fine for awhile, your son was very excited, giggling at the jump scares and all in all having a good old time.
Your daughter...not so much. Poor thing was just about shaking, but she wanted to do this!!
They were about 2 scares away from the exit when someone dressed as a werewolf came from no where, your daughter screaming and turning into her father, her elbow at the perfect height to connect with his groin.
Sucking in a quick breath he ever so slightly tightened his hold on his children's hands, walking them through the last few jump scares and out to you.
You immediately grew concerned as the first thing your husband did was take a knee when he got outside, hands coming to grip at his face as he just slowly let out a breath, nodding when you asked if he was okay.
But even after getting elbowed in the balls, he never let go of his daughters hand😤
Konoha Akinori: 
You had just finished drying your son off from his bath when you heard giggling coming from the living room.
You sighed as you saw your husband, relentlessly tickling his oldest daughter, right after you had gotten her all settled down for bed.
Despite the irritation you felt knowing it would take at least 2 more stories for her to be sleepy again, you couldn’t help but smile knowing how much he loved being a dad.
“D-daddy *giggle* st-stop it!! It-it tickles!!!” Your husband smiled, continuing to gently tickle your daughter as she continued to laugh.
“No-can-do missy! Your laugh is just too cute!” 
Your daughter, despite her laughing, started to squirm, small arms pressing down on her fathers forearms, and little legs and feet pressing on his shins and thighs.
Until one particularly ticklish brush of his fingers caused her foot to slip, ending with her heel hitting him right in his crotch.
He shrieked as he let go of his daughter, hands flying down to his groin as he fell on his side, all the while his little girl laughed as she crawled up towards you, who was hunched over ugly laughing/crying as your husband continued to whine.
Kita Shinsuke: 
Today was the first day of your spring cleaning, and your 4 year old daughter insisted on being a big help!
You were working in the living room while Kita and your daughter worked in the kitchen.
Kita was teaching his daughter how to use everything, and helping her when she needed it, she was of course a wonderful listener and was having the time of her life.
They had just finished dusting, and now it was time to do the floors.
You guys had linoleum in the kitchen, so all they had to do was sweep and mop.
Kita got the broom from the storage closet and came back to the kitchen.
He sighed when he realized he had forgotten the mop, setting the broom up against the kitchen counter and telling your daughter he’d be right back.
Now, she may more responsible than most kids her age, but she was still 4. And very curious.
Picking up the broom, she started to play with it, completely oblivious to her father rounding the corner.
Before he could so much as blink his daughter turned, the top of the broom catching him right in the balls as he very narrowly avoided cussing, choosing to grip the counter instead.
Gasping your little girl ran to you, on the verge of tears as she grabbed your hand and started pulling you towards the kitchen.
“Mommy help! I think I killed daddy!”
When you got to the kitchen, you saw Kita, head down on the counter as his hands wrapped around his head, small groans coming from him.
He made sure to be out of his daughter reach when teaching her to sweep.
Suna Rintaro: 
Suna was in the living room, your 2 oldest in there with him as he was ‘rough housing’ and doing stuff dads do with their kids.
You were in the youngest 2′s room, putting them down for a nap.
Suna gently held his daughters legs as she planted her palms on the floor, him lifting her up when she was ready.
That’s right, Suna was teaching them to do handstands.
Giving her a high five he turned to his son, telling him what he needed to do, completely oblivious to his daughters concentrated look.
Keep in mind, Suna was standing, with his knees slightly bent and his hands on his knees.
Your daughter gave herself a firm nod, putting her hands above her head as she dipped down.
You had just finished putting the littlest ones down for their nap when you walked into the living room, watching almost in slow motion as your daughter leaned her upper half down, and watching her her leg came flying straight up.
Straight up in between her father’s legs.
You watched as his eyes widened, the air being knocked right out of him as he practically folded in half, forehead resting on the carpet as your son just looked at him and your daughters hands came up to her mouth.
You were of course dying in the doorway, him shooting you a glare as you gave your poor daughter a hug, her giving her daddy one as soon as he unfurled from the fetal position.
Ushijima Wakatoshi: 
Ushijima had taken his 3 oldest sons to the Schweiden gym.
He was putting in a little extra practice time, but wasn’t going to give up time with his children!
So, he figured it would be good to take them with him, they always loved going with him anyhow.
Right now, he was with your oldest son, Ren.
Your second born was whisked away by Romero and his son to play, and your youngest was whisked away by Hoshiumi and Sokolov.
Ushijima had been teaching his son to spike.
Nothing crazy, the kid is only 5, so they were spiking from the ground.
But there’s still a lot of power that goes into those spikes!!
Ushijima had taken his eyes off of his son for not even a minute, distracted by the giggles he heard from his youngest as he sat on Hoshiumi’s shoulders.
He really should have been paying attention, because right in front of him his son was winding up for a spike.
He didn’t notice until the *SMACK* on the gym floor echoed, the volleyball being shot right into his groin.
He cursed under his breath as he dropped to his knees, hands holding his crotch as Sokolov and Romero cringed, Hoshiumi and Ren laughing at his misfortune.
Yahaba Shigeru: 
Yahaba had taken his 2 sons outside to play with a model airplane they had just finished putting together!
It was one of those thick-foam nice ones, so it was going to fly nicely.
He stood a good 15 feet away from his oldest, his youngest about 15 feet away from him so they formed a triangle, You watching with your phone ready for memories!!
Your oldest, Hayato, waited for the wind to come before thrusting the plane up and into the air, it glided for a good few seconds before doing a loop and coming back to the ground at a sharp angle.
For a foam plane, it moved quite efficiently, and at this speed it was moving quite quickly.
Before anyone could react, the plane had nose dived right into your husband, his face blanching as his hands shot downwards.
You laughed, your sons cringed, and Yahaba just about cried.
“At least the plane’s okay! It would have actually been bad if it broke” Your youngest walked away after picking up the plane, Yahaba looking at him in disbelief. 
“Yeah, well don’t go asking me and your mom for anymore siblings, *cringe* I don’t think that’ll be happening.”
He cringed even more when you revealed you had gotten everything on video~
Iwaizumi Hajime: 
With it being the off-season for volleyball, Iwaizumi was spending more time at home with his family!
But, keeping in good shape was also important, so one of the things he would do is while he worked out in the home gym, your 3 sons would be in there with him.
You guys had a pretty good set up, one of the newer additions being a punching bag and gloves. (any other boxers out there?)
Iwaizumi was working with weights, currently doing bicep curls while his sons wreaked, albeit controlled, havoc.
His oldest had found the gloves, slipping on on his hand as the middlest took the other, the youngest slipping on a mit instead.
Poor man was so focused in his workout, he didn’t even notice his middlest son come waking towards him.
When he did notice, he was too late, his son had already wound up and launched his gloved hand into Iwaizumi’s crotch.
Iwaizumi grunted as he just about dropped the weights, falling onto his hands and knees as he tried to steady his breathing.
All 3 of your children bolted out of the room, the little brats laughing before they ran into you.
You walked in to see Iwaizumi, who was now on one knee, eyes still closed as he seemed to be meditating.
For those who are wondering, “padded boxing gloves” do  n o t h i n g  to subside the pain of being punched😢
Futakuchi Kenji: 
Futakuchi’s parents had been over for dinner one night, his younger sister and her fiancé were there too!
You guys had just had a nice dinner and were now sitting in the living room, bringing up old memories and laughing about things that have happened.
Your oh so loving husband had decided to bring up how you had “flashed” him in high school, you rolling your eyes as you hit his arm with a pillow you threw, him being on the couch and you cuddling with your youngest on the floor.
Now, you guys have 3 little girls. 
Your oldest is 6, middlest 4 and your youngest is about 3.
Your youngest was very much a mommy’s girl, and would actually glare at Futakuchi for no given reason, then turn around and giggle and smile at you. (lol my little sister went through a phase like this when she was, like, 2)
She had been sitting on your lap, so when she saw you ‘in danger’ and it was from ‘the enemy’ aka dad, she stood, chubby little cheeks forming a pout as she marched towards her dad.
With the whole family watching, she pulled her fist back and swung, catching him right in his balls as she scurried off and back into your arms, you not knowing how to respond to the situation and your husband doubled over in pain.
Daishou Suguru: 
You and Daishou had 2 kids, 1 girl (oldest) and 1 boy.
Daishou was a good dad!
He cared for his children, gave them endless amounts of love and affection, and was never late to any event big or small.
But he was still a dad, and dads all have those things that they do.
For him, it was popping out of random places and (lightly) scaring his daughter.
Currently, he was hiding behind the wall right at the top of the stairs, smirking as he knew his daughter was on her way up them.
He got his hands ready, feet in a good position to jump out as he watched her little shadow grow closer and closer to the top.
As soon as she hit the floor of the 2nd level he jumped out.
“BOO!” Screaming she kicked, landing a strong kick right in between Daishou’s legs, causing him to yelp as his hands gripped his crotch, sinking to his knees as his daughter gasped.
She felt bad for a whole of (2) seconds before sighing, hands coming up on her hips as she pouted, “Daddy, that’s what you get for scaring me!!”
Numai Kazuma: 
You guys had 3 sons and 1 girl, your baby girl being the youngest of the 4.
Right now, you guys were in your backyard, having an outdoor day and playing a variety of sports and games.
The game they were currently playing was baseball.
You sat in the shade with your youngest son and baby girl as they played in the sandbox, your oldest two with their dad as he set up the little stand and put the ball on it.
He had put on the catcher’s mit and stood a good 10 feet away from the batting station, his oldest son ready to hit, and his youngest son a safe distance away.
“Alright, come on buddy, you got this!”
Steadying his stance, your son swung with all of his might, the ball going fast and low to the ground, and right towards Numai-
“uGh-” Your hand came up to your mouth when your husband dropped to his knee, hand coming up to wave off his son, forcing out an “I’m okAy-” as he struggled to regain his composure.
For the remainder of the time they played baseball, he kept the mit a little lower than he originally planned.
Iizuna Tsukasa: 
Iizuna had been away for a game for the past 2 weeks, and your 3 year old daughter was very excited to see him again.
His arrival time was in the afternoon, so you were able to bring your daughter with you! Which Iizuna was thrilled about.
Your little girl was practically bouncing with excitement, little pigtails jumping as she looked up to you with a toothy grin.
You gently ran your fingers through her hair, as she clutched onto your leg, both of your eyes searching the gate for your husband.
As soon as you saw him, you crouched down to her ear, “There he is! There’s daddy!” Squealing she ran, and I mean she ran full force towards her father.
Iizuna, seeing his incoming 3 year old barreling towards him, dropping his bag, kneeling down so he could catch her.
Which he did, but he didn’t account for just how much force she had carried, so he didn’t expect the little foot that kicked him right where it hurts.
Careful not to impulsively squeeze the life out of his toddler, he shakily sighed as he gave her a kiss to her head, her nuzzling into his arms.
He may have been in an extreme amount of pain, but nothing was going to stop him from hugging his little girl.
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unohanadaydreams · 3 years ago
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This was originally an ask I answered quite a while ago that I’ve gone back and edited. It went from 1k to 1.6k words so it’s been significantly reworked, so much so that if you’ve read it before, it’s enough of a new piece that you’ll hopefully enjoy reading it again! I’ve edited the original ask to reflect all changes, but believe me--it’s been through a transformation.
But, yeah, I’ve gotten quite a few asks for hurt/comfort Ukitake so this is an offering for all of you!! He only suffers a lil bit. <3
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so close and yet so far from death [1.6k]
Jushiro Ukitake x Reader:
Falling to her knees, Kiyone pressed her blubbering face against the thin door. “He won’t tell us! Not a thing,” she said, like she was struggling to contain a sob.
Sentaro’s arms circling around her waist, he tugged her to a stand.
“We tried our best.” Despite his eyes holding yours, it seemed more a reassurance for the down trodden Kiyone leaning against him.
Your smile was soft when it lifted.
When had they ever failed at keeping their captain first in their hearts and minds?
“Of course, you did,” you said, trying to infuse your thanks into a tender tone. “Thank you for your efforts.”
Relieving them from their post with a squeeze to Sentaro’s shoulder and a ruffle of Kiyone’s hair, you pressed on.
And immediately crouched to the floor, your fingers smoothing over the warm knit blanket tossed in the entry way, your heart squeezing.
Oh, Jushiro.
You smothered your face in the blanket. Breathed in his scent. Desperate to collect yourself with arms full of buttery soft yarn. You waited, crouched and tense, for the knot of tears that pricked at your throat to loosen and dissolve away.
The growing sadness only made the tears spill. How hypocritical of you--wishing  Jushiro would see more than pity in your actions, while you paused here…pitying you both.
With a soft determination, you nodded, brushed tears from warm cheeks.
“Right!” Using the momentum of your renewed hope, you hoisted yourself up, wrapped the blanket around your shoulders, and toed off both your sandals. Your thoughts of ‘poor Jushiro’ left in the doorway with them.
The blanket hugged you, warm and comfortable as you padded across the tatami mat to the backyard. You might have paused longer without the yarn-spun shield--near dead, with Fall smoothly moving to embrace Winter, the garden looked unwelcoming.
The chill of stepping outside slapped at your exposed face in uneven bursts of wind, but you persisted, fingers foisted in the blanket.
You seemed to spot him all at once, as though the slump of his frame had camouflaged him. His bleak mood folding him into the similarly blanched surroundings.
He was without his captain’s coat. The thin, faded kimono he often wore to bed was all that shielded him from the wind’s bite. Strands of his long, bone white hair lifted, like the wind was a mouth, tugging.
You kept your feet steady despite the worry, unsure if the deep concern you felt would cause him to flee; a deer bolting at the first crunch of underbrush.
“Jushiro,” you said. Your voice tensed his shoulders, caused his head to jump as though roused from thought.
Your arms de-tangled from the wool and draped it over his shoulders before you sank beside him. “Your lieutenants are sulking like puppies, you know.”
“Hm. They should be used to it by now,” he said in a melancholy tone that you struggled to hear. Jushiro never spoke about the silly tag team who constantly trailed him like that.
‘Patience be damned,’ you thought. Groaning loud and forceful you smacked your cold hands against your equally frost licked cheeks. “I can’t do it!”
Jushiro finally turned to you, eyebrows raised.
“I can’t stand seeing you so down on yourself,” you carried on, the steam of your outrage warming you, causing your breath to puff in white clouds. “And I’m not leaving until you talk to me!”
He winced, a bitter twist raising his lips at the sight of your hand grabbing for his. “I couldn’t get through the proposal.”
“It was just bad timing.”
His gaze retreated, moving to track flashing scales of sluggish, well-fed koi instead.
“Yes, exactly,” Jushiro croaked. “What if it’s always bad timing? Will you be so understanding when it’s our wedding day that I’m coughing up blood at?”
Your hand tightened around his, rubbing at his pale, thin fingers. “Of course,” you said, trying to contain your frustration. “Jushiro, I love you. I love all of you. Not just when you’re healthy or when life is easy.”
His dark brown eyes met yours for a breathless moment before his hand squeezed back and he laced your fingers together. “You deserve someone like that, -chan. Someone healthy. Who makes life easy.”
You couldn’t have shaken your head with anymore force, wishing you could smash your forehead against his and force every ounce of your feelings through his thick skull. Jushiro’s determination to upend your point tightened your throat.
“No,” you said, voice quivering in frustration. “I deserve the man who proposed to me because he loves me so much he wants to spend his life with me!! I--”
His arms were tugging at your back before you could speak further. Your deep, shuddering breath sucked the cotton fabric against his chest to your lips as you began to cry in earnest.
There was nothing to do but say it once more--”I love you, Jushiro. I do.”
“Oh,” he said, so mournful in his regret. “My dear.”
“Am I?,” you sobbed. “Then why can’t I be your wife, too?”
His hair tickled at your ears as it cascaded over you, his chin sharp against your scalp. “You are--oh, you are.”
He called your name, then again, and again, each utterance more bare than the last. “It’s just like me to forget how far pride forces you from others, isn’t it.”
Jushiro’s lips pressed to the top of your head, the chill of his own tears pooling between the kiss. The proof of his hurt did nothing to satisfy you. But your crying slowed, your arms hugging him, hands meeting behind his shaking back.
“Yes, but you understand now, don’t you? You’re not a sickness I need shielded from.”
Arms almost crushing, he held you tightly, for long minutes that were marked only by soft crying and whistling wind. “Thank you,” he managed after his body had grown steady.
Your tears wet his kimono in a warm pool of relief as he rubbed firm circles against your back. Your hands clutch at his sides, pressing to feel the warm of his body.
“Forgive me, please. I’m just so used to...”--Jushiro grappled for words and you waited for him to wrestle the correct ones down--”keeping it hidden. Only being sick behind closed doors, away from everyone, and coming back when it’s through. There doesn’t seem to be any room for that kind of separation in marriage.”
“No,” you agreed. “I wouldn’t want there to be.”
Tentative, almost too low for you to hear anything but the vibration of his chest, he said, “I don’t want it to be that way either.”
“So, if you understand” you sniffle, muffled by fabric and skin and salty tears, failing at light-hearted. “Are we still getting married?”
Jushiro pushed at your shoulders until you felt the wind drying your tears in a cruel chill. His thin hands cupped your face, thumbs swiping at the damp tracks trailing your cheeks. You did the same for him. “-chan,” he sighed, tender and reassuring. “Would you marry a silly man like me? Through all my sickness and little bits of health?”
Puffs of visible warmth formed between your faces as you chuckled in pathetic, wet hiccups. “Yes. For the second time, yes.”
Jushiro relaxed fully in one large breath as he leaned forward to kiss you, both of you unbothered by the mingling tears wetting your faces or the briny taste of them shared between your tongues.
His hands cradled your back and pressed you fully against him as he deepened the kiss, his head canting to the side. The blanket fell from his shoulders. Tumbling from your reach as you locked your arms around his neck.
Your lips detached from Jushiro’s as a thump sounded from the porch, Shunsui’s voice registering seconds after.
“Well, what did I say, you two?”
Quick enough to bring spots to your eyes, you turned to see Sentaro’s body lying prone against the wood, his fingers shielding a blushed face. Both he and Kiyone looked mortified, yet unable to look away as Shunsui glided toward you.
“C-captain we-we just,” Kiyone said, her teeth chattering in anxiety as she squashed her face with clutching hands, fingers wide enough to allow her eyes an unobstructed view.
“We came to celebrate the newlyweds,” Shunsui interrupted, smoothly raising a large, elegantly decorated bottle of unopened sake. “But don’t let us interrupt you just yet. Sake’s always sweeter with a view, after all. And something tells me it was just getting good.”
Jushiro inhaled deeply as he hugged you close again, but his brown eyes were light, twinkling with humor. “I should thank you to keep that particular gaze away from my future wife.”
Freeing your head with a twist, you eyed Shunsui with a dramatized sniff, your own arms tight around Jushiro’s body. “Sorry, but that was the end of whatever show you were hoping for!”
Shunsui flopped boneless to the porch. With a wink, he began pouring booze into large drinking saucers and you couldn’t help but grin. “Maaa. Just my luck.”
“We’ll be going now, captain!” Kiyone bowed dramatically, tugging at Sentaro’s uniform with enough force to tug it loose from his obi, as she backed away. “We’re so happy for you!”
“Congratulations, captain! I’m the happiest I’ve ever BEEN for you!”
“Everyone’s going to be so excited!!”
“Kiyone! How dare you?! I would NEVER spread this information without our captain’s permission!”
“Wha--no! Captain, I meant when they find out! I would hate even MORE to spread your private information around.”
Your laughter warmed everything inside you. Jushiro’s arms holding you helping just as much.
Thanking them, you and he dismissed them with fond smiles that they took with them, their bickering explosive with relief.
As Jushiro pressed his lips to your cheek and led you to the porch, you were glad for both his and Shunsui’s hand helping you to kneel. Your soul felt so light, without them, you’d surely float away.
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ragingbookdragon · 4 years ago
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I'm Only A Crack In This Castle Of Glass (Hardly Anything Else I Need To Be) PT. 3
Batfamily x Batsis Story!
Word Count: 2.1K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst! Tags!: @itsnottilly @cloudyskylines
Author's Note: DUN DUN DUN!!!! Y'all enjoy this now, because it's only gonna get so much more angstier soon. -Thorne
Set Three Months After PT. 2:
She didn’t have to look up to know who entered the shop, because his voice carried over the air. “Melisandre!”
Humming, she immediately plated a pastry and a hot coffee, sliding it on the counter just as he sat down. “Good morning, Wally,” she greeted, watching him take a bite. “Right on time, as always.”
He smiled, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. “Morming Merisamdmur,” he replied, and she rolled her eyes with a snort.
“Jeez Wally, didn’t your mom teach you to not talk with your mouth full?”
Shrugging, he swallowed and said, “I was trying to be polite.”
“I think it’s more polite to chew with your mouth closed and speak after you swallow.”
They glared at each other before one of them cracked a smile and they fell into laughter. She tossed a napkin his way. “How’s your day going so far?”
Wally groaned and laid his head on the cool marble countertop. “I’ve got so much to do today, it’s not even funny.”
“Well, well, Wally the procrastinator is finally feeling his toes at the fire, huh?” She ignored his glare. “What do you have to do?”
“Barry needs my help with my cousins and my friends are coming over today to hangout and I haven’t bought any food or drinks for that and I have yet to even start cleaning my house.”
She giggled and reached over, patting his head sympathetically. “There, there, Wally. Everything will be alright. Why don’t you just bring your cousins over to your house and watch them while you hang out with your friends?”
“Because my cousins are annoying and I’m not subjecting my friends to that,” he countered and propped his chin on his palm. “Unless…”
She cocked a brow and waited for him to continue and he offered, “You come over with my cousins and help me watch them?”
“No.”
“What! Why?”
“Well for starters, I don’t know your friends and it would be weird for me to just show up.” She countered.
“They’ll like you though!” he cried, and his hand shot out, wrapping around hers. “Please, Melisandre!”
“Wally, I’ll just watch your cousins at my apartment and Iris can just come get them later, that’ll be easier and won’t force me to sit in a group of people who don’t know me.” He tried to speak but she tossed another napkin, hitting him in the face. “I’m watching Dawn and Don so you and your friends can hang out without being bothered, and that’s final.”
His face pinched. “You sure you can keep up with them?”
Something passed between them and she quirked a brow. “I can keep up with you, can’t I, Wally?”
Wally chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, that’s a fair point.” He glanced at her. “They would like you though.”
She ignored the comment in favor of, “Tell me about them. What are they like?”
He inhaled sharply and took a moment to think. “Donna’s strong willed, Roy’s loud, Lilith likes to get in your head, Garth is easy to annoy, and Dick’s kinda the glue that keeps us together.”
“Dick? He get that from Richard by asking nicely?”
Wally barked a laugh. “Oh, I’m definitely gonna tell him you said that.” He nodded. “But yeah, his name is Richard Grayson, but he goes by Dick.”
Her eyes almost bulged out of her head and she was lucky that Wally was looking at his watch then.
Don’t ask. Don’t do it. Leave it alone.
But she couldn’t stop herself.
“Richard Grayson?” she feigned. “Why does that name sound familiar?”
Wally met her eyes. “Bruce Wayne.”
She snapped her fingers. “Right! The ward.” Wiping the counter, she added, “I heard they added a new addition to that family too. A daughter, right? Cassie? Cassidy?”
“Cassandra,” Wally corrected. “Yeah, that’s Dick’s new sister.” He put his elbows on the counter. “She’s nice, doesn’t talk a lot though.”
“The quiet one, then?”
He laughed. “Of them all.”
Don’t dig any deeper, (Y/N). Keep your fucking mouth shut and let it go.
“I always wondered what happened to that other daughter he had,” she murmured, and Wally’s face blanched like he’d witnessed a murder.
“What?”
She met his gaze. “He had another daughter. I think her name was (Y/N).”
He swallowed thickly. “He does.”
“Does? She’s still around?”
“Yeah, she’s in some Italian villa.”
“Wait really? I thought she died or something?”
“What? No! She left—” Wally snapped his mouth shut like he was about to reveal a secret, but she knew anyways. “She left and went to Europe for a mental retreat.” He finalized and she wondered if that was the story Dick told him to say if anyone asked. Or maybe it was Bruce.
“It’s been like three years now, right? You’d think she’d post something on social media.”
“The whole point of a mental retreat, Melisandre, is to get away from social media.”
Oh please, I know plenty of elite who do that shit and still post crap on their socials.
“There’s no way that girl hasn’t.”
“Why do you say that?”
She scoffed. “Oh please, she’s the daughter of a multi-billionaire. There’s no way a girl that wears Gucci belts and carries Prada purses keeps herself off social media.”
Wally’s eyes narrowed like he was thinking hard about something and she internally cursed.
Oh, smooth move you dumbass.
She coughed and waved a hand. “Well, it’s all theory anyway.”
After a moment, he nodded. “Yeah…theory.” Wally got to his feet and handed her the empty plate. “I should go ahead and get back to my place and clean up before they get here.”
“Have fun,” she smiled, and he grabbed her arm.
“Take a pic with me.”
“What? Why?”
“So, I can tell my friends about you and prove I’m not lying.” He pouted. “Pretty please, Melisandre?”
Don’t do it. Dick will know. You know he’ll know.
She smiled despite her internal thoughts. “Sure.”
Wally grinned and raised the camera where she was in the background. She threw up a peace sign and gave a cheesy grin, momentarily blinded by the flash of the camera.
She spun and filled a bag with pastries then handed it to him. “Here, so you can give even more proof.”
Wally took the bag and hopped onto the counter, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. “Thanks Melisandre!” And he was dashing out the door.
You’ve ruined it all. This is going to come back to bite you in the ass. And it’s going to come quicker than you think.
She frowned and wiped down the counter again, trying to ignore her thoughts. Maybe. Just maybe, it wouldn’t.
***
Waving Barry and Iris off, she smiled as the twins climbed into the backseat of their car and the taillights signaled their departure. She closed the door behind her and glanced at the mess the two tornadoes had left. Even for the little she had in her apartment, they sure did know how to make a mess.
She sighed as she bent over to pick up one of the cushions when her doorbell rang and she stood up, confusion coming over her as she made her way to the door.
“Hello?” she asked, and a muffled voice echoed from the other side.
“Melisandre, it’s me, Wally. Can I come in?”
She opened the door, surprised to see him. “Wally? What are you doing here? I thought you were with your friends?”
“Yeah, I told them I had to do something really quickly,” he said as entered her apartment. He took a moment to examine her living room. “Man, Dawn and Don did a number here, didn’t they?”
She chuckled. “We had fun building forts.” Nudging him in the side, she added, “I don’t mind the mess.” She looked at him. “Do your friends know? About you being…you know?”
He nodded. “We’re all special in some way.”
Understatement there, Wally.
“So, why tell them you need to do something then come to me? Is everything alright?”
Busying herself with the couch cushions, she waited for him to explain, but nothing could’ve prepared her for his words.
“It will be once I get to the bottom of it…(Y/N).” She froze for a split second, but it was all he needed. “It really is you, isn’t it?”
(Y/N) stood upright and gazed at him. “When did you know?” Her voice was a lot colder than she meant for it to be.
“I had suspicion for a while, but when I showed the picture to everyone, Dick said it looked like you.”
“Really?” she laughed. “I thought I did a good job changing my appearance from three years ago.”
Wally didn’t laugh, he merely gaped at her. “Why?”
“Why what?” (Y/N) knew what he was referring to.
“Why’d you just leave?” He took a step towards her. “Do you have any idea what your family has gone through since you disappeared on them? The grief? The shame?”
She shrugged. “I explained everything in the letter I wrote my dad, Wally. There’s no reason why they should still be concerned with me.”
“They love you!” he shouted, taking her by surprise. “They love and miss you so much!”
“My family ignored me for eighteen years straight, Wally!” She yelled right back. “What was I supposed to do? Sit and pretend being forgotten was all normal?!” (Y/N) couldn’t help but shove at his chest. “I chose to leave because my next choice was taking a swan dive off Wayne Enterprises!”
His eyes went wide, and she shook her head. “I left because the only person who cared about me, was me.” She turned and fixed the final couch cushion while he watched her do so.
“They’re still looking for you, you know. Dick is always staring at his phone hoping there’s a text from Jason or Tim that they’ve found a sign of you.”
(Y/N) sighed. “If you’re trying to guilt trip me, Wally, it’s not going to work.” She shot him a glare. “I got over the fucking guilt the second the flight to Central took off. I got over the fucking guilt the night I laid in a hotel room bed curled into a ball where I cried myself to sleep. I got over the fucking guilt the moment I realized I’ve done so much better on my own than when I was there.”
She marched up to him and got in his face. “I got over the fucking guilt when I realized Barry and Iris Allen were more of a family than four brothers and dad ever were.”
They glared at each other and finally, she let out a sigh. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve already started a new life here and I have no plans of ever going back.”
“At a college that doesn’t have a real name. You know that’s illegal, right?”
(Y/N) scoffed. “What’re you gonna do, Wally? March into four-C and tell them Bruce Wayne’s daughter is going to school under a false name? We both know you wouldn’t.”
“I’ll tell Dick,” he suddenly shot back, and she went rigid.
“You wouldn’t dare,” (Y/N) threatened and he took a step towards her, getting nose to nose with her.
“Try me.”
They stared one another down and she said, “I think you need to leave, Wally West.”
His eyes narrowed. “Yeah, I guess I should.” He spun on his heel and marched to the door, but stopped when she questioned,
“Are you really going to tell him?”
Wally gazed at the ground for a moment then he murmured, “…No…it’s not my place to.”
(Y/N) swallowed and nodded. “Thank yo—”
“Don’t thank me, (Y/N). I’m lying to my best friend about knowing the real location of his baby sister he misses dearly.”
She looked away. “Cassandra is his baby sister now. He should focus on her.”
“You really have no idea about what they feel for you, do you, (Y/N)?” He asked, and she grunted.
“Get out, Wally.”
“Don’t worry, I’m gone,” he spat, slamming the door behind him, hard enough that it shook the walls that held the doorframe.
(Y/N) stared at the door for a few moments then cursed sharply and collapsed onto her couch, eyes directed to the ceiling. Three years down the drain in one conversation.
Way to go, (Y/N). You did a spectacular job of keeping it all under wraps.
She groaned and picked herself off the couch, not caring about the mess as she headed to bed. She’d deal with it all in the morning.
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a-mended-pact · 3 years ago
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Let the Right One In
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A/N: So this is for @boldlyvoid 's challenge. I had so much fun writing this. Even though I'm still super anxious about posting my stories. It's been a pleasure and an honor getting to know you Em. Congratulations on reaching 2k! 🖤
Warning: Mentions of insecurities. Maeve Donovan. Faking a death.
Word count: 2,082
It was midday when I heard knocking on the front door. I was half tempted not to answer. Spencer was away on a case and neither him nor I were expecting anyone. Anyone that would come over at all was away on the case with him or states over. So who could be coming over unannounced? I clumsily headed towards the door. My fuzzy socks are making it difficult to stay balanced on the hardwood floor. A knock came again. It was gentler this time. 
I looked through the peephole and saw a small woman looking around nervously leaning from foot to foot. “Who is it?” I wondered if I could at least get a name. 
“I’m here to see Doctor Spencer Reid. I got his address from Aaron Hotchner.”
  My face blanched at the sound of Hotch’s name. It had been quite some time since anyone had mentioned him. After he went into protective custody with Jack even though the reaper was dead he still chose to stay away. Contact with him was rare and slim. I quickly opened the door and watched her jump back slightly. 
“Who are you?” she asked. She looked around the same age as him. She is actually quite beautiful. I wonder how Spencer knows her? 
“ I’m Y/n Reid.” She tilted her head to the side as she studied me.
 “I didn’t realize Spencer had a sister.” She finally met my gaze and smiled.
 “Is he here or do I need to come back at another time?” A small laugh escaped me 
“No, I am not his sister. I am his wife.” I crossed my arms over my chest and locked my foot in place behind the door keeping it only slightly ajar not letting her see into our home. 
Her face shifted to one of slight surprise. “Oh well I better just go then.” She went to turn away. When a thought crossed my mind.
 “Wait, I can call him if you’d like and let him know you are looking for him. What’s your name?” I was wondering whether this was a good idea or not to even call him but i had already offered and i am already in far too deep to turn back now. 
She stopped not turning to face me again. “My name is Maeve. Maeve Donovan.” 
Maeve. Why did I know that name? Why is my brain going off with alarm bells? But why do I know that name? I watched as she vanished from the hallway down the flight of stairs never turning back around to look at me. 
I slammed the door shut as I racked my brain on if I should mention this to Spencer at all. Especially while he is away on a case. Maybe I should wait until he gets home. He should be home later tonight. At least if the weather was alright over in New Hampshire. He had left me a message earlier this morning to let me know the case was solved and it had started snowing there but their flight wouldn’t be ready till a little later. 
He should be home in about an hour now. I will wait. I’ll definitely wait.
 
~
When Spencer walked through the door he looked sluggish and about ready to just collapse. The exhaustion clearly got to him from not getting enough sleep while he was away. He took off his satchel and his suit jacket. He began undoing his tie as he walked his way into our bedroom. Not even making eye contact with me. 
He came back out moments later in nothing but his flannel sweatpants. “Sorry I know I should have said hello to you. I just felt like I was suffocating in my clothes today.” As he spoke he made his way to the couch where I sat at one end.
 Once he sat down he leaned down and put his head in my lap. I gently started running my fingers through his hair while scratching his head. 
“That feels really nice.” His voice was soft and he let out a quiet sigh as he relaxed into the couch and my lap.
 If I wasn’t petting his head I was gently caressing his back with my fingertips. I know I needed to tell him. I was just so nervous. I knew somewhere deep down this would be stressful to him. The day already has worn him out so completely. It was like he needed my touch to recharge himself. I began biting my lip as my hand stopped on his lower back. 
“Hey, Spence, A woman came by to see you today. She said she got your address from Aaron.” He made a humming noise to let me know that he heard me. “Her name was Maeve Donovan.” I felt his back muscles tense at the sound of her name. He sat up immediately. 
“Wh- what did you say?” He looked at me as if I had just grown an extra head or as if I had just spoken another language.  “Mae-” He cut me off. “No, I heard what you said. I don’t need you to repeat yourself. It’s not possible she was at the door. She is dead. She’s been dead for years.” 
He pushed himself up off the couch, the muscles in his arms flexing more than usual. He was more tense than I have seen him in a long time. The last time I saw him this upset or stressed was when he first came back from prison. We were just dating back then.
“I am going to go call Hotch.” he moved quickly to grab his phone when he finally reached it. It began to ring. He looked at it for a couple of seconds before he answered.
“Hello?” His eyes widened slightly. I watched as he clenched his jaw and tears brimmed his eyes. 
“M-m-maeve?” He leaned himself back against the wall. His breathing became irregular as he slid himself down the cold panel. At the same time I saw a couple of tears leave his eyes.
I sucked in a breath and sighed. Was this going to be the end of us? Now that all the stories Spencer told me of her came back once he said that she was dead.
She was his first love after all. It would only make sense right?
====Spencer’s Pov=====
My vision was blurred beyond recognition. I could hear my blood pumping in my ears as the sound of her voice drifted in and out. This isn’t real. It’s not possible. I watched her die. I saw her. She was pronounced dead at the scene. I mourned her. It’s been years. Nearly a decade.
“Spencer? Can you hear me?” I felt my tears stream down my face, nodding as if she could see me. 
“Yeah, Yeah I can hear you.” My voice cracked as I answered her. 
“Just like old times huh? It’s so nice to hear your voice. I’ve missed you.” My breath hitched at her words. 
I felt my heart hammer in my chest. I glanced up to see if I could find my wife. She was watching me with concern but otherwise she hadn’t moved not yet. All the guards Y/n had torn down throughout the years started building themselves up higher and higher. 
"H-how are you alive? I watched you die." The horrible memories of that fatal day still haunted me. What am I supposed to do now?
Do I still have feelings for her? Is it wrong if I do? I don't know how to handle this. What should I do?
"That's why I came to see you earlier.  It was an idea that I came up with at the last minute.  So I faked my death." Her voice was calmer than my breathing.  I felt the walls Barricading around me to keep me safe. I was suffocating.
I wasn't sure I had heard her right. I could feel my ears ringing as the blood in me ran cold.
"You faked your death and made me believe for a decade that the first person I ever loved died a brutal death because you wanted a new life?" My tone was harsher than I anticipated.
I felt my wife's hands run through my hair in a comforting manner as she lowered herself to the floor with me.
I glanced at Y/n as tears streamed down my face. The memories of Maeve and my feelings for her wreaking havoc on my heart.
"Darling, I think you should hang up. For now anyway." She whispered it as her hand lowered to the back of my neck giving me a gentle message. 
My back stiffened. I was so caught up in my own nightmare I hadn't realized that this is probably a living one for her.
"Spencer. I can expla-" I cut off the call before she could even finish her sentence.  Y/n was right.
"You have a lot you need to process and I'm sure you didn't want to say anything you would regret. I'm sorry if I've overstepped." She looked a little nervous as if I was gonna snap at her the way I had Maeve 
I gently grabbed the hand that was touching me and brought it up to my lips placing a kiss on it.
"Nonsense. You are my wife. You were right. I should have hung up. I just. I don't know how to explain what I was feeling." I could feel my breathing begin to slow slightly as I tried to match her breathing to get mine back to normal.
It was like my world paused for a moment and began to spiral faster than I could catch my balance. I felt air fill my lungs when I heard her voice but yet I was left gasping for oxygen. 
The very thought of Maeve brought back so many things I thought I had dealt with prior to now.  I leaned my head against my wife's shoulder as I just let the tears fall.
I felt awful having her comfort me over another woman. Yet I couldn't bring myself to completely care. She was the one offering me comfort.  
She held me in her arms. Whispering to me that things will be okay. That we'd figure things out.
I truly didn't deserve her. She loves me so unconditionally it's unnerving. That's when my phone went off again.
It was the same number Maeve had called me from.
I glanced at my wife. Who just watched me. That's when I fully knew and decided something that had been bothering me for over the past hour or so.
I let my phone continue to ring as I cupped her face. 
"You...you make me feel special and good and all these things that I still don't have the words for yet— good things… things I never thought I deserved to feel.” I pulled her in closer letting our lips caress one another.
"I love you Spencer.  You don't need to say all of this right now. I know you are still-" She tilted her head to the side as if she were trying to figure me out.  "Cluttered and that's okay."
I kissed her harder than I've ever kissed anyone before.
"I’m not in love with her, I’m in love with you”
I have no real idea on if she needed this reassurance all I knew is that I did. I wanted her to know out loud what she meant to me. I couldn't imagine a better partner. A better lover or a better best friend than her.
 I wasn't going to have her doubt everything about us. Not for anything.
I stayed close to her as my phone kept repeatedly going off until eventually it stopped. I was still figuring things out. 
Knowing that Maeve was alive before I met Y/n would have changed my life completely but now? I didn't want anything to change.  For once I was happy. I had someone in my life who put me first. Who cared about me. Who wasn't afraid to hurt my feelings as long as it kept me safe. She loved me for me and all the mess in between who I have yet to become.
She saw me for me. I wasn't Doctor Spencer Reid.  I wasn't a federal agent or a professor to her. I was just Spencer.  The man for some ungodly reason she chose to love. 
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welovethecloudboytoomuch · 2 years ago
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MHA Vigilantes Week Day 1
Prompt: Forgiveness/Pop/Sickness
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Tags: Koipop, Fluff and angst, Confessions Pop wakes up after the events of the Nightmare Night, and has to adjust to the changes that comes from it.
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What needs to be said
Kazuho fades in and out of consciousness. It feels like there’s this heavy weight on her chest and in her head, holding her down as it lulls her back to sleep, but a voice is calling out to her. The weight of the bed shifts as a body sits down next to hers.
“Kazuho?” the voice asks. Then it takes on a happy lilt as she tries to blink open her eyes. “Kazuho!”
She’s disoriented as she wakes, the world seems like it’s spinning, and she has a splitting headache.
It takes a moment for her to orient herself. The back of her bed moves up from behind her and helps her into a sitting position. Someone holds a cup of water up to her lips to drink, and as the first sip hits the back of her throat, she grabs the cup from their hand and voraciously drinks down the rest of the glass.
Her vision comes into focus at different lengths. She blinks as she tries to focus on the space in front of her. Soon the chair next to her comes into focus, but her periphery is still fuzzy. Half of the world is blocked off by a bandage over her left eye and the light of the room is blinding. She winces at the overstimulation and closes her eyes again as pushes back into her bed, away from the light.
The person on the bed next to her notices and gets up. Suddenly the brightness of the room fades, and some of the noise in her head quiets. Her bed slumps once again as the figure comes to sit next to her.
“Kazuho, you’re awake!” says the voice. “I just pressed the button, the doctors should be here in a sec.”
She relaxes as the voice next to her talks, almost instinctually.  
Everything’s staring to come into focus now, but it’s a bit hard to make out with the light of the room. She sees a face close to hers, dark hair, dark eyes and-
Kazuho’s heart sinks to her stomach.
A dark scar runs down the man's face, one that looks far too familiar.
She blanches as panic rises quickly in her chest, and the steady beeping of the machine next to her becomes a persistent thumping noise. 
No, she thinks. No no no no no-
She lies against the pillows, body in panic mode but still not able to respond properly. She reflexively closes in on herself and shuts her eye.
Not him, anyone but him! She thought she was safe. She swears that she had know Ko- No no no!
A hand holds onto her shoulder.
“Pop?” the voice asks. “Kazuho, you’re okay here, I swear. Just look at me, please?” he pleads.
She fights through the panic as it forces her breaths to come in quick fluttering bursts sucked through her teeth. 
Slowly, tentatively, she peaks though her lashes and looks at the man next to her. 
Koichi is there, tears in the corners of his eyes, but smiling and safe. He has the same big brown eyes, same dark hair, but on the side of his face there's a dark scar that comes up and across his cheek.
Instinctually, she reaches for his face and runs her thumb across the red, aggravated skin. 
At her touch Koichi’s grin spits open wider. He puts his hand up over hers and stutters over the words as he says, “Hey Pop.”
Tears start to stream from Pop’s eyes and her breathing stutters again as he realizes that he’s here. “Koichi.”
She dives into his chest, and he wraps his arms around her as sobs cause her frail body to shake. He strokes the back of her head and mumbles comforting words.
“You’re safe now Pop. You have no idea how worried I was. Thought about you the whole time you were in here. I just didn’t know how I would feel if you never yelled at me again-“
He says his comforting ramblings into her hair and his beating heart provides her with a pillar as she leans into his firm chest. 
For the first time in a long time, Kazuho feels safe in his arms.
After awhile she calms down enough to pull away, but Koichi keeps talking. 
“-and there were so many heroes here Pop you shoulda seen it! I don’t think I've seen that many heroes in Naruhata since the first big trigger outbreak. You remember that one right? Anyway, and apparently All Might showed up. In Naruhata! Can you believe that?” 
It’s there, in that moment, in dim light of the hospital room that Kazuho interrupts Koichi’s rambling by pulling his face to hers and kissing him.  
Koichi is startled for a moment, but then leans into it and closes his eyes. They break slowly, foreheads coming to rest against each other as she grabs his hand and says “Koichi, you’re an obvious blockhead, and the kindest, most caring person I've ever met. So, you probably haven’t realized it yet, but I’ve been in love with you this whole time.” 
And then the words are out there, real and in the world.
Pop watches Koichi’s face as the gears turn in his head. His face crunches up like it usually does when he's thinking really hard, and Pop begins to panic a bit.
Then he says, “There was this really pretty moon I wanted to show you.” 
Kazuho raises her brow, though Koichi seems to relax as he gets his thoughts in order.
“And I wanted to show it to you, but you weren't there. I was so, so worried the whole time. I couldn’t sleep right, knowing that you were still in danger. I wore the same underwear for like two weeks. And I realized that I didn't want to be without you, that I wanted to show you the pretty moon everyday if I could.”
Koichi stops, satisfied that he’s said what he needs to say.
Pop face then splits into a smile, real and blinding with tears still in her eyes. She laughs the first genuine laugh she’s had in a long time.
“You idiot.”
// If your confession doesn’t include a part about underwear you’re not doing it right.
Fun fact: I wrote the initial draft of this before Koichi was actually scarred in the manga, so I had his and 6's scars be identical.
Happy Vigilantes Week!
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mmvalentine · 3 years ago
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Pomegranate pt 5 | Feysand
Hades/ Persephone inspired AU. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6
Rhys stays up most of that night with Cassian and Amren, making battle plans. The Night Court is far north enough that they aren’t in immediate danger. The same cannot be said for the Spring Court.
Since Hybern is already in the mortal lands, they are closer to the Spring Court than Rhys’s armies. He starts them travelling that very day, and then in the evening, is back in Feyre’s room. She is in his arms almost as soon as he winnows in.
“Hello lover,” he says into her hair.
“You still haven’t slept, have you?” she asks. Rhys doesn’t answer.
“Any response from Tamlin about the Hybern attack?” he says instead.
“Just one,” Feyre replies dryly, and then pulls back enough to meet his eyes. Rhys blanches.
Feyre’s face is mottled with bruises on her chin and temple. There’s an ugly gash across her left cheek, and a small cut in her eyebrow. Rhys’s knees give slightly, and he pulls her to sit on the bed before kneeling in front of her and inspecting her face and body. There are cuts on her hands, too. “Tamlin says, how dare you side with that night court whelp over your own father,” Feyre recites. “If I say Hybern isn’t a threat then it isn’t a threat. Stupid stubborn bastard.”
“He hit you?” Rhys said. His jaw is clenched so tight Feyre can see the muscles jump. Feyre’s laugh is brittle.
“Oh no,” she says. “He never hits me himself. He just… explodes things in my vicinity. And then he panics and says I shouldn’t have been standing so close. Or pressed him after he said to stop. Once, he actually told me I should have thicker skin.”
A snarl builds in Rhys’s throat, but Feyre touches his cheek.
“I’m okay, Rhys. They’re just scratches.”
“I’ll kill him.”
“Rhys. Don’t do anything dumb. Besides, whenever he really loses it at me he usually feels so guilty that he lets me out again. You know, until he finds another reason to lock me up.”
Rhys looked up at that. “So you’re free to go?”
“He hasn’t said anything yet, but he usually waits until breakfast anyway.”
“Well fuck waiting. Just come with me tonight, leave Tamlin for Hybern.”
“And abandon my own court? Would you do it?”
She has him there. Rhys sits back on his heels and drops his forehead to her knee. “I don’t know when they’re coming,” he says. “And I can’t just leave you waiting. Not when Tamlin’s doing this shit to you.”
“Okay, then stay here,” Feyre says. He looks up at here.
“Stay with you?” he asks.
“Yeah. I never like it when you leave anyway. And you need to get some sleep. Seriously.”
He looks at her and the anguish stings his eyes like hot tears. Hybern is coming. Tamlin is hurting Feyre. She’s asking him to sleep in her bed. There are too many things to feel.
“Come on,” Feyre says gently. She tugs him off his knees. “Come to bed.”
Rhys lets her pull him up into the bed. He toes off his boots and shrugs his arms out of his jacket and shirt, sending them in to a pocket realm in case someone comes in and finds his things on the floor. Feyre blows out the candle on the table by the bed, and gets under the sheets with him. He pulls her against him, and nuzzles her face into her shoulder.
“My armies are on their way,” he says. “Hybern won’t win.”
“Sleep now, Rhysand,” Feyre whispers, and he doesn’t think he could just fall asleep when he’s wrapped around this girl in her bed, but she hums a lilting song under her breath and he does.
///
Feyre wakes Rhys early in the morning by tracing her fingertips over the contours of his face. Travels the mountains of his cheekbones and the planes of his nose. Trips over the valleys of the crease above his eyelids, and is just brushing over his lips when his fingers tighten at her waist.
“Hello you,” Feyre says softly.
Rhys’s eyes open slowly, and he loves that she is the first thing he sees in the morning. The dawn light is filtering in through Feyre’s gauzy white curtains, and catches in the loose strands of her honey-gold hair.
“Hello my favourite flower.” His voice is scratchy with sleep.
Feyre’s hands are now trailing down his bare chest, and he watches her studying his tattoos. His hands start to wander, too, and he can feel the heat of her skin through the short satin night gown that he doesn’t remember if she was wearing when he got in last night.
“What do these mean?” Feyre asks quietly. Rhys uses his ankles to tug one of Feyre’s legs between his, and strokes down her flank again.
“It’s sort of a rite of passage for Illyrian warriors,” he tells her, now swirling a finger up her arm and over the top of her bare shoulder. Her skin in contrast is creamy white and unblemished.
“Did they hurt?” she says. She’s now following the tattoos over his biceps.
“Yes,” Rhys replies, with a smile in his voice. His throat bobs. “But it was worth it to have you touching me like that.”
Feyre smacks him lightly and pulls her hands back, but Rhys grabs them and places them back on his chest. “Don’t stop,” he says.
Feyre meets his eyes then, and in the dawn light Rhys finds flecks of gold in her blue-grey stare. He circles his arms around her and pulls her closer in. “I’ll never get tired of your hands on me,” he murmurs. Feyre’s gaze drops to his mouth then, and she blushes slightly but her fingers start to move again. Cautiously at first, up his chest and over his shoulders. Rhys closes his eyes and breathes deeply while she does it. Feyre rubs a little more firmly down his arms and back up. The next pass down, she scratches lightly and a rumble stirs low in Rhys’s chest. His fingers twitch around her waist.
Feyre runs her nails up and then down his back, and now Rhys can’t keep his own hands still. He makes broad strokes over her back, too, fingertips following the line of her spine from the nape of the neck all the way down her backside. Back and forth, slow and leisurely, while Feyre’s hands slide under his hair and scrape down the back of his neck. The next time Rhys reaches Feyre’s ass, he keeps going and brushes her pussy through her underwear.
Feyre’s touch stutters, but she doesn’t make a sound. Moves her hands down his chest and over his abs, while his travel back up. And then back down.
With every pass he pushes his fingers against the growing heat of her, and on the third stroke he can feel her getting wet through the cotton. Rhys pauses, and then pushes her underwear to the side so he can feel her. When his fingers slide down the bare core of her, Feyre moans softly and it’s all Rhys needs to be rolling smoothly over her with his erection pressed firmly at her centre.
“I’m going to vanish our clothes now,” he says, an inch from her nose.
“Okay,” Feyre says breathlessly.
Rhys does so, in a moment between moving his body down and back up hers. They both breathe sharply when they find nothing separating their skin, and Rhys gets achingly hard between her legs. He holds still for a minute.
“Just a reminder that we have to be quiet,” he grits out. “Is this a terrible idea?”
“Yes,” Feyre says. She grins like sunshine through clouds. “Let’s do it anyway.” She rolls her hips beneath him and Rhys is moving again. He snaps his wings out and cocoons the both of them, as if that will help stifle sound. He puts his mouth on hers, and a second later he’s shifting between her legs and pushing against her pussy.
Feyre gasps slightly, but Rhys just kisses it from her lips as he focuses on going slow. Her breathing shallows but he’s holding his breath until he hits his hilt, and then he exhales hard against Feyre’s neck. She is so impossibly tight around him and she’s got her hands under his jaw now. He looks at her, and tries to anchor himself in her eyes as he pulls out just as slowly and then pushes back in.
“I fucking love you,” Rhys whispers to her, and then he moves again. Feyre tries to reply, but can’t form the words. She tries to hold onto his gaze but her eyes roll back as her body adjusts to the size of him and he starts to speed up. Just a little.
“It’s okay,” Rhys tells her. “I’ve got you. Keep your eyes on me.” With some effort Feyre pulls her head back up. “That’s it,” he croons, and then fucks her a little harder. Leans down to press a kiss to her lips, but doesn’t break his rhythm.
“Rhys,” Feyre gasps.
“Yeah honey?”
Feyre opens and closes her mouth, but can only manage his name again. “Rhys…”
“I know.” Rhys slides his hand between them and touches his fingers to her clit. His hips are relentless, and Feyre can’t catch her breath.
“Rhys I… oh gods I…”
“What’s that, petal?” She doesn’t know how he sounds so calm.
Rhys sits up onto his heels, and the angle deepens. He’s circling his thumb over her clit now, and Feyre’s eyes squeeze shut again.
“Open them sweetheart, please,” Rhys murmurs. He curls one hand under her thigh to bring her in closer to him. “I just want you here with me.”
Feyre forces her eyes open, but it’s so much more intense when they’re watching each other.
“I can’t,” she whimpers.
Rhys drops back down over her, and hovers his face above hers.
“It’s just me,” he whispers to her. “I’m right here.”
Feyre moves her hands to his face and somehow, with him this close, it is easier. The room fades away and his violet eyes fill her vision, and then they’re back in the field of wildflowers and they are the only things in the whole world.
“Good girl,” Rhys breathes. He moves his mouth on her nipple, then her neck, then her lips. Feyre's hands are on his ass and pulling him in further now, and he gets drunk on how much she wants him, too. Rhys watches her for a minute, then whispers in her ear. “I want you to come for me.”
And out of nowhere there it is, her climax is right behind her. Feyre holds onto Rhys more tightly as her breaths come fast and shallow, and there’s a moment she’s lost and her knees are gripping Rhys’s hips for dear life while his fingers move deftly between them and then the orgasm is bursting behind her eyelids and Rhys’s hand is clamping down over her mouth so she doesn’t make a sound.
Feyre shakes violently as the waves ebb, his wings tightening around her. Rhys takes his hand away and kisses her lips. She’s coasting on the come down when she realises Rhys has started to build his rhythm back up. He’s got his mouth at the hollow of her throat now and his hand squeezing over her breast, and before she knows it the spiral is tightening again.
“Come again honey,” Rhys says huskily.
“And you too?” Feyre asks.
“Yeah,” Rhys manages. His thumb is flicking over her nipple in time with the one over her clit. “I’ll come if you come.”
Rhys’s hips are getting erratic now and finally he is unravelling. Feyre is satisfied. She pushes her fingertips against his wings and listens to his breathing change, and then she’s floating again. She forgets to keep eye contact but at this point she can’t care about anything at all.
Rhys watches her eyes roll and her face flush. He loves her reactions to him, loves being able to watch her orgasm sneak up on her and the glorious look of almost surprise when it hits. Most of all he loves the way her pussy clenches tight around his cock when she comes, and this time when it happens he loses it and he’s right there with her, and he yells as he comes before biting down hard on his lip to keep himself quiet.
Their bodies shudder together and Rhys gathers Feyre close to him as they chase their breath. He takes in lungfuls of the scent of her and it is minutes before he finally pulls out and cleans them up with magic. Rhys has just gotten his arms back around Feyre and closed his eyes when there is a crash in the hallway outside.
Feyre sits bolt upright and looks at him with terror in her eyes. “My father,” she says.
But Rhys can hear shouting minds in the corridors. “No,” he says, sitting up more slowly. “Hybern. They're here.”
**** Happy weekend my loves! Wishing you all a wonderful day xx
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smelted-applejuice · 4 years ago
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Babysitting Duty.
Parings; c!Sapnap x Reader (PARENTAL), c!BadBoyHalo x Reader Pronouns; she/her Desc; You’ve never been great with kids, you dont know why your boyfriend thought it would be great for you to babysit. You haven’t even met the kid!
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requests are open!! -
[YourName] was asleep peacefully in her warm bed, not a worry in the world, until there was a loud banging on her door. She did her best to simply ignore the noise, but then she heard keys and the front lock unlock, and then she knew exactly who it was. [YourName] groaned, placing a pillow on top of her face and flopped onto her stomach, hoping if she simply ignored her boyfriend, he wouldn’t bother her too much. Maybe Bad had left something last time he visited and he was simply picking it up!
Her thoughts would be proven wrong when she heard her bedroom door open and weight on her back. “What the-” [YourName] groaned, she felt the pillow get picked up and thrown beside her, “Wakey, wakey!” Bad’s voice said gently. [YourName] tried to bury her head into her bed but felt her hair get pulled, “What the hell!?” [YourName] yelped. Bad gasped “Sapnap, you know better, no tugging hair.” he scolded picking up whatever weight was on your back. [YourName] went through her mind trying to figure out who Sapnap was.
[YourName] gasped, “Bad, if I lift my head and your child is in my room, I swear.” she deadpanned. Bad’s nervous laughter filled the room as [YourName] looked over, and there was Bad with a young toddler in his arms, “Bad! You should’ve told me-” [YourName] complained moving quickly and sitting up. She was obviously still in her nightclothes, but it didn’t stop Bad from placing the active toddler into his girlfriend’s lap, “I’m not even good with kids.” [YourName] said, glancing down at Sapnap who was slobbering on his hand.
“Nonsense, dear! You just need practice, and this is a perfect opportunity.” Bad cooed, [YourName] huffed but then realized what he meant. “What?! No! No way am I babysitting! I’ve never met the kid so I don’t know his interests, or what time he likes to eat!” [YourName] said panicked, Bad shrugged “He’ll tell you! He can’t talk, but he knows how to sign ‘eat’!” he said trying to ease his girlfriend’s worries “It’s not as bad as you think, dear!” he finished placing both of his hands onto her shoulders. “Want to explain why I am placed on babysitting duty?” [YourName] asked looking tired, her eyes were lidded and she had her arms wrapped around the slobbery toddler.
Bad swayed side to side, placing his hands behind his back as he did so, “Well, ya know- uhm..” he stumbled over his words for a moment. “I told Skeppy he could have the next two weeks off from babysitting Sapnap, but I didn’t account for the fact I still was needed in the Nether..” Bad confessed, [YourName] chuckled and shook her head trying her best not to laugh at him. “Know what, it’s fine, I don’t mind babysitting Sapnap- just nervous.” [YourName] replied in hopes it would relax her boyfriend’s worries about his son, “Anyways, he will be my step-son of the sorts one day.” she added winking toward Bad who nodded despite the flustered look he had on.
[YourName] offered Sapnap back to Bad so she could get ready for the day. Bad sat at the end of [YourName]’s bed and watched as she exited the bathroom fully dressed and then sat down to do her hair, “If I end up liking kids because of this..” she mumbled as she did the last touch-ups. Bad couldn’t help but chuckle at the soft conversation she would have with herself, it was always such a sight to see. He kept his hands on his son’s waist as Sapnap blanched on his thighs and slightly jumped in his spot gurgling at [YourName].
“Good, he likes me” [YourName] joked, happily taking the toddler out of her boyfriend’s hands. She placed Sapnap on her hip as she walked with Bad to the front of her house once more. “I’ll be back in a few hours, I promise. Before dinner.” Bad explained, kissing Sapnap’s head before leaning down and placing a gentle kiss upon [YourName]’s lips. [YourName] smiled and nodded, “Alright, we’ll see you then, be careful.” she reminded, watching her boyfriend leave before shutting the door.
Bad had truly come in clutch, on her couch were all of Sapnap’s necessities, puffs, food, toys, god he had it all! “Your daddy does not play games with you, huh?” [YourName] mumbled placing Sapnap on her living room floor, she gave the kid some toys and rushed to her kitchen to put her breakfast in the microwave and returned just as fast as she left. “Good, haven’t set anything on fire- I’m watching you kid, I’ve heard stories.” [YourName] said jokingly glaring at the toddler, Sapnap simply giggled and hid his face before returning focus on his ghast toy.
[YourName] shook her head, grabbing her food and returning to the floor. She and Sapnap would chill on the floor for a few hours, but after watching Sapnap nearly melting the plastic off of one toy and throwing a hissy fit, he finally gave in to his needs and placed his fingers together before pointing to his mouth with them. [YourName] sat there for a second squinting her eyes trying to figure out what the child was trying to say.
“HUNGRY! YOU’RE HUNGRY!” [YourName] said, snapping her fingers as she stood up quickly, she grabbed some food out of Sapnap’s bag. Sapnap watched [YourName] with a deadpan look as she scattered around to get a good spot to feed him, he crawled over and knocked some puffs off the table and kept himself busy until he was picked up and moved to a different location. Sapnap pouted at first, reaching for the little puffs he had dropped, [YourName] just scoffed, “No, Sap, they’re dirty, gross, disgusting… Uhm.. The feeling people feel when your daddy says ‘language’ at them.” she rambled.
She knew Sapnap had no idea what she was talking about, but still, one-hundred percent went with it. She couldn’t help but smile when she successfully fed Sapnap some warmed-up chicken bits, and it made her, even more, happier when Sapnap lightened up with each bite. He got some peach yogurt too which seemed to make up for the loss he had earlier with his puffs. After he was done, [YourName] took him out of his spot and let him crawl out the rest of his energy.
Finally came the part of babysitting she always dreaded, it was changing a diaper. She laid Sapnap out, and after many attempts of him escaping she got him to relax. “Pee on me, I dare you, you’re gonna see a whole different side of me, man.” [YourName] mumbled wrapping up Sapnap and changing his onesie, she picked up the kid and placed the dirty diaper in the trash can. Sapnap showed no signs of being tired and it was a little after eleven, nearly noon. He must’ve been up for, at most, an hour before coming over, so it’s been a good almost five hours.
“When do you nap?” [YourName] asked, scrambling around the kitchen making herself lunch, she glanced at the kid who just threw his head under her chin. “Mmm, now?” She asked, he shook his head, so [YourName] just nodded and finished up her lunch. It wouldn’t be until after she ate and did a few chores that Sapnap began to get fussy, so it was most definitely nap time! “Look, I could go for a nap too, Sap. Let’s get our nap on.” [YourName] said trying to compromise with the toddler.
[YourName] gently placed Sapnap down and placed a pillow next to him before crawling under her covers with Sapnap and letting the child cuddle up to her. [YourName] couldn’t fight the smile on her face as she gently ran her fingers through his black hair. “You’re so sweet..” She whispered placing a kiss against his hair, and within minutes the two were out. Sapnap would move onto his back while [YourName] kept a gentle hand on him at all times, too anxious to let the child go even as she slept.
About an hour later, Bad would come back. He had finished up earlier than he thought and thought he would get Sapnap off [YourName]’s hands now. After a few knocks and no answer, he unlocked the door himself and made his way through the house. Sapnap’s bag was opened and toys were scattered around the living room, and in the kitchen, the plastic baggy and tub that held Sapnap’s lunch were emptied, so he knew his child was well fed and played with. After more looking around, he made his way into the back and smiled at the scene in front of him.
He wished he had the ability to photograph the moment, it made him melt from the inside out just seeing [YourName] and Sapnap bond how they have today. The messy house told the whole story and he was overjoyed. He simply stripped of his boots and took his weapons off along with his glasses and crawled in behind [YourName], he held her close while [YourName] backed up against him embracing the added warmth Bad provided. Bad smiled at [YourName]’s hand lifting up and down, hearing Sapnap sigh heavily he leaned over and kissed his girlfriend’s cheek, placing his hand gently on top of her’s. He would fall asleep, the view in front of him coaxing him into the most peaceful nap he had have in a long time.
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brat-tamer69 · 4 years ago
Text
Dead Branches and New Leaves
♡ Summary: Levi’s relationship with his son Eren reaches a new low, and Y/N is there to confront Levi in an effort to rebuild. Very much inspired by this picture and in response to this request.
Part Two TBA
♡ Notable Tags: AU, Married, Parenting, Levi x Fem!Reader, Broken family, daddy issues, argument, angst and over 3k words holy shit!
❥ Disclaimer: Levi and his actions in this are not intended to be perceived as anything other than him being emotionally unavailable. He lost his temper and it is acknowledged numerous times that he is remorseful. I would like to emphasize that he is not emotionally or verbally abusive but this content may be upsetting to some readers. Please use your own discretion if you are sensitive to the topics.
♡ Send requests here!
Levi’s head instinctively whipped around to face the house’s front entrance when the screen gritted against the doorframe’s track. If he was not mistaken, his son would come bounding into the house from the front yard to ask for yet another snack. And Levi would once again shave down a carrot and before handing it over so it could be crunched down in seconds. How the kid had the energy to take off and put on his rain boots so many times in such quick succession, Levi didn’t know. But Eren did thankfully understand that if not for that talent, his dad would rip him a new one for tracking mud onto the freshly mopped tile.
As if summoned by thought alone, the percussive pattern of little feet hitting the floors echoed, and the urgency in it suggested that he was running. Levi pressed his lips together and closed his eyes, trying to cling onto what felt like the last second of peace he might have since Eren was running.
“Dad! Dad!” the toddler addressed him shrilly.
“What is it, runt?” Levi sighed and rotated in his spot in front of the stove to face his son.
“I was playing outside, and- and there was a big boom in the sky! And- And I wasn’t scared at all,” he added matter-of-factly. “But there was a little kitty outside, and I think him was scared.”
Levi stared down at the boy, bemused by how he managed to squirm and point every which way during a ten-second-long story. He then shifted his gaze back in the direction of the screen door, praying that Eren had possessed enough sense to close it behind him on the way in as the heavy rain had been accompanied by wind all morning. Levi had bargained with Y/N to support his stance of keeping Eren indoors but, in exercise of her wonderful parenting strategy, she insisted it would be better for him to play outside and get used to the daunting nature of thunderstorms.
Well, it’s working, Levi noted as he circled around the “big boom” Eren pointedly mentioned he wasn’t scared of. Still, his concerns were loyal to the furry little pest that seemed to be taking shelter in his front yard. “It’s ‘he was scared’,” Levi corrected. “And that’s too bad. Maybe he’ll run off somewhere safe on his own.”
Eren deflated, his shoulders and his volume falling while the size of his eyes grew. “But what if he can’t, Dad? What if the rain gets him sick?”
“Then the rain gets him sick,” Levi shrugged. “Not everything is meant to survive in this kind of weather, Eren. Besides, he might already be sick if he’s out there hanging around our house.”
An indiscernible emotion flashed across Eren’s face and disappeared just as quickly Levi picked up on it. But before he could engage, Eren was sprinting away and to the front yard again.
“Whatever,” he mumbled to the likes of himself. One thing he’d learned since become a father was that the less he knew, the better. If Eren did do something drastic like fall into a puddle of mud or befriend a sickly cat, he would scale the mountain of mishap once he approached it. For now, he had his focus on finishing dinner just as he promised his wife he would, and that was all he had the mental energy to do.
Perhaps one too many moments passed where Levi worked on simmering his kimchi nabe in the quiet, the slightly gentler rain being the only noise in the background. As he replaced the lid to the pot, he seemed to simultaneously sink back into reality. The thunder had finally ebbed. Y/N was still working on hemming some of Eren’s new clothes…
And Eren. The damn toddler that was notorious for popping up for snacks and attention hadn’t reappeared once in the past twenty minutes. The thought made Levi’s mouth dry and his throat swell faster than they would if he’d have swallowed a handful of cotton rounds. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered. A clenched fist still equipped with a ladle, Levi set a brisk stride toward the front yard where, if his nonexistent god had any mercy, Eren would still be playing in the rain.
During the walk, the rain, the shuffle of his house slippers against the tile, and every other noise slowly faded. All he had in his ears was the vivid imaginary scream of his wife as she found out her son went missing under his watch. And the image of Eren with teary eyes burdened by fear was not any kinder to his growing panic.
“Shit–” he spat.
“Momma said that’s a curse.”
Levi looked down at the origin of the voice, the relief he felt in seeing Eren standing in front of him in perfectly healthy condition lasting but a second. It was instantly replaced by rage. As the panic drained from his body, every inch of him became ignited by disgust, disappointment, grief and a slew of other emotions he was too angry to even process. The blankness in his mind caused by the adrenaline rush was being filled in by the stench of the sopping wet stray cat being held out in front of him. “Eren…” he seethed in a low voice. “What the hell is that?”
Eren chewed his lower lip in hesitation. Levi almost wrenched when the boy had the gall to hoist the rancid being up higher, as if his father wanted to inspect it. “It’s the kitty! See?” he answered in earnest. “It’s the kitty I told you about! I told him to go find a new house so he doesn’t get sick, but he didn’t want to! And his tummy is bleeding, too!”
A soaking wet, bloody, feral cat. Levi didn’t know if he should give in to the hysterical, exasperated laughter bubbling in the depths of his stomach or if falling to his knees and sobbing would free him from the chaos he felt. Helpless to his anger toward his own child, all he could do was touch his hand to his face in a feeble display of his emotion. The outwardly endless consequences to Eren bringing a bleeding cat inside the house started to appear in his mind one by one, each adding to the pressure he felt building underneath his temples.
“Daddy?” Eren squeaked.
Levi was so distracted by his inner turmoil that he hadn’t even realized the minutes of silence that passed between them. “Go put it outside and wash your hands. Now.”
By the particular tone of voice his father used, Eren knew better than than to disobey him—even a single casual command from Levi would normally be enough to move him. But after trading glances between his dad and the injured cat, Eren shook his head.
Levi was in disbelief. He could feel his heart racing with every ounce of searing blood it sent through his veins. His hand trembled as it gradually fell from his face to reveal a nearly crazed expression, his eyes opened as wide as they could go but his brows furrowed impossibly low over them. “Did you just shake your head at me, boy?”
“Uh, well, the- the kitty is scared and has blood on him,” Eren gulped. “H-He can’t stay outsi–”
“Put it outside. And the next time I have to repeat myself, I’ll put you and the damn cat out.”
A small gasp escaped Eren’s quivering lips, but he swallowed it quickly before tucking the cat underneath his arm and escaping out the front door in a flash. Levi sucked in a shuddered breath, only now noticing the thick, brown splatters of mud and the droplets of red that created a trail to the yard and soiled his previously spotless tile.
“What happened? Where’s Eren?” Y/N’s soft voice questioned as she paced into the kitchen. “I heard you raise your voice. What’s going on?”
The worry in his wife’s shaky words gave way to her equal distress if not for the hand gently laid over her heart. It was enough to draw the ire from Levi’s body. Like the bright red leaving the eye of a cooling stove, anger steadily seeped from parts of him he wasn’t even aware were tensed. His set jaw unclenched, he lowered his shoulders and his fingers loosened from their intense hold on the ladle.
“Eren,” Levi replied to his wife in a breath at long last.
“Eren what?” she urged, her pupils growing.
“Eren’s fine. He just brought a fucking dying cat into our house.”
Confusion distorted Y/N’s features while her eyes moved frantically across Levi’s face in search for some sort of unspoken answer. When she didn’t receive it, she whirled around with a small huff then grabbed a fistful of her skirts and hurried to the front yard.
By her reaction itself, Levi knew he was finished. Y/N’s kindness knew no bounds in even the most stressful situation. In circumstances where his own instinct would be to react first, his wife was guided by the purest ethics; she would comfort, ask questions then gather herself enough to find a solution. But her consideration skipped him this time, and it was because she was livid with him. Levi could tell that much.
Bending at the knee to retrieve the cleaning supplies from the cabinets, he expelled a wearied sigh. He figured there was no better way to postpone is annoyance with the situation than by losing himself in the pleasures of cleaning on his hands and knees. He forced himself to focus on the acrid scent of chemicals burning his nostrils instead of the gut-wrenching sobs he could hear once his wife opened the front door. He tried to remember which solution was best to polish the ivory colored tile, but god damn it, he couldn’t think when he saw Eren’s little body, defeated and dripping wet, shuffling down the hall. His knuckles blanched as he all but strangled the cloth, putting all his upper body strength into scrubbing away what little remained of the muddy footprints.
Y/N watched Levi in silence for a brief period, absorbing how pathetic he looked down on the floor, frantically erasing the nonexistent spots while his son cried himself to sleep in the other room. She didn’t know what possessed her, but her nails were starting to dig into her palms in effect of how hard she was trying to contain it. If not for the pitiful picture of her baby boy standing outside, wailing over the corpse of a cat, she might have been frightened; she had never felt this way about Levi. But today was different—for everyone.
Levi released his rag and sat back on his heels when the shadow of his wife fell over him. At the same time, a coldness that he was far from feeling fell over his eyes. He could only hope it would protect him even a little bit.
“What the hell did you do?” Y/N demanded of him through her teeth, her voice faulted by an emotional tremolo.
He rose to face her and swiped his palms over his apron. “I did what any parent would do if their kid brought in a dying cat from outside. I told him to put the vermin back where he found it and wash his hands.”
“You cursed at him,” she sneered. “And you threatened to put him out of the house if he didn’t listen to you. It’s raining!”
He tried to keep his voice leveled though his need to emphasize his point superseded the attempt. “Well, if he listened to me the first time, I wouldn’t have cursed. And he’s a smart kid– He knows I wasn’t going to put him out.”
Already jaded by the argument, Levi mentally readied himself for Y/N’s rebuttal. But it didn’t come. Instead, her open hand flashed across his line of peripheral vision, and if it weren’t for his unique reflexes, it would have left a bright red print on his left cheek. Overwhelmed by the sequence of events, Levi’s defenses fell. By putting his energy in holding his wife’s wrist tightly, just mere inches away from his face, he’d lost his composure. His mouth went dry as it fell slightly agape and his eyebrows were pressed upwards together in sheer astonishment.
“Y/N–”
“You bastard!” she cried, her tears leaking through her voice as well as onto her face. “Do you have any idea how scared and alone he felt, watching that cat die in the rain?! And to make things worse, you were punishing him for your selfish ass obsession with keeping the house clean!”
Levi’s eyes darted past his distraught wife and landed on Eren’s bedroom door, paranoid that his mother’s shrieks might wake him. “It wasn’t like that.”
Y/N shook her wrist in his hold defiantly. “Then explain it to me! Explain to me what the hell you wanted to do! What, were you scared of telling him he couldn’t keep it?”
“No, I wasn’t!” he growled back. “The first thing I told him to do was let the damn thing go. It was a dying cat, Y/N! That thing could have given him or any one of us all kinds of diseases with its filthy fur in seconds! What if it had bit him or scratched him?”
Y/N met her husband’s eyes squarely and stared into them for an unwavering minute. His volume had fallen off marginally by the end of his question. Her eyes narrowed as his softened. She caught him. Letting out a mirthless laugh, she finally ripped her wrist from his grip. “You didn’t even check if it did, so why are you bringing that up as if you actually care?” she whispered.
Shit. “He would have told me it did,” he answered then swallowed, not quite convinced of his answer himself.
“Don’t you get it? He doesn’t want to tell you anything, Levi. And he wouldn’t ever if he had the choice.” He braced himself as he noticed her hands balled at either side of her waist. “You’re so goddamn bent on policing him that you forget to parent him, and you’re nothing but an authoritarian that feeds him. Our son has the biggest heart, and by the way you treat him, he would never know that he got any of it from you because you act just like your father figure, not his.”
Levi prided himself on his steel-like aplomb. But if anyone could melt steel, it was Y/N and any selection of words that came from her heart. Often times, they were sweet—almost cloying as he felt he never deserved her praise. This time, they were filled with venom and provided a sensation no different than someone plunging a blade between his lungs. In fact, each of his breaths in following were shaky at best.
Y/N knew that Levi hated being likened to the weasel of a man that raised him almost as much as he hated the man himself. Still, she pressed on, resolved to defend Eren and put an end to the struggles he had with his dad. “You’re silent,” she pointed out. “Because you know it’s true. I’ve tried so many times to get you to understand, to be more gentle with Eren, and you just aren’t. Today would have been the perfect opportunity for you to bond with him. But you didn’t. You couldn’t even treat him like he was worth something. You didn’t reason with him. You didn’t listen, you didn’t explain the why’s or even make sure he wasn’t being hurt by what was happening. You just cursed at a child– My child for having empathy. And you let him sit out in the rain, grieving and crying alone.”
Nausea washed over Levi as the color drained from his face. He felt as though someone had tied an anchor to his lungs and allowed them to dangle precariously in his chest. Tears sprung to his eyes when he realized that the way Y/N described the evening’s events were simply how it happened for Eren. While Levi had been driven by his compulsion toward cleanliness, Eren was acting on his innocence. The child wasn’t hardened by and consequently numb to death like his father was. Eren only saw an injured animal, retrieved it then looked to his dad for help. And Levi had sent him away, practically abandoning him. Even if it was just for the moment that he’d lost his temper, the impact on Eren was irrevocable.
He started to fix his lips to apologize, but he knew the words would be insultingly inadequate given the circumstance. “What do you want me to do, Y/N?” he asked thickly.
By the time his words were out, it seemed an eternity had passed and Y/N already had most of her back to him. What he could see of her face was a perfect and painfully personal illustration of disillusionment. “I want you to stay here, with Eren.”
“What?” Levi felt his own voice sounded like a distant echo in the room.
“I can’t stand to look at you, to be perfectly honest. And you hurt Eren more than you’ll ever know. You need to fix this—all of it while he’s young or you’ll never have the relationship with him that I always wanted for the both of you.”
Y/N turned to walk away again, but in this instance, it felt more final. It was why Levi threw his hand out toward her as if it had any power to halt her from such a distance. “Now you stop right there,” he ground out, masking his misery with a roughness. “You can’t just leave after the shit you’ve said. So where the hell do you think you’re going?”
She paused, providing truth in her earlier statement by keeping her eyes trained on one of the pristinely cleaned tiles. “I’m going to say goodbye to Eren then going to my mom’s house. And if he’s not attached to you by the time I get back, then you can set up a new living arrangement with her.”
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krisdreaming · 5 years ago
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this is just a request 👀 I don’t know if you do like team requests but I would like a manager!reader for Seijoh, Nekoma, and Karasuno and how the teams react to a strange male harassing her on like a team relaxation day/ outing/ just shopping?? LMAO IM SORRY IF THIS IS A WEIRD REQUEST I WOULD REALLY LIKE TO READ THIS??? 🤡👀🤧
Oooh yes, I can definitely do this, and I don’t think it’s weird at all! I love writing the team dynamics ^^ Fem!Reader is implied. I tried to mention most of the team in each one, but obviously I couldn’t include them all!
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SEIJOU
It’s already kind of an unspoken tradition that some / all of the boys will walk you home or to the bus stop or wherever you need to get to whenever practice runs late and it’s dark. They don’t want anything to happen to their precious manager-chan (these are most definitely Oikawa’s words, but the sentiment is shared by the whole team).
On this particular day, it’s completely dark by the time you leave the gym. You have to stop at the corner store to pick something up for your mom, and you tell the boys they don’t need to wait for you.
There’s a weird looking guy who just so happens to be in every aisle you’re in, and you brush it off as a coincidence - that is until you make your purchase and he follows you out the door without even buying anything.
You start walking F A S T towards home. “Hey!” He’s trying to talk to you, but you ignore him, pulling your phone into your hand when he reaches for your arm. You’re almost paralyzed with fear, but the moment his hand wraps around your arm you hear someone bellow out, “Y/N!”
You turn, and Iwaizumi, Mattsun, and Kindaichi are sprinting towards you (it was Iwa who yelled your name). The guy looks like a deer in headlights.
“Do you know him?” Mattsun calls out before they’re quite there, and all you can do is shake your head, hard. No no no. Words don’t want to form right now.
By the time they get there, the guy has already turned to flee, and Iwaizumi rests a hand on your shoulder as Kindaichi moves to pat your back awkwardly. Mattsun is just kind of standing there with his hands balled into fists.
“I - I-” You still can’t quite speak, the fear making your breaths come quick and short.
“Breathe, Y/N.” Iwaizumi looks into your face, concern in his eyes. “He’s gone now. Did he touch you?”
“No.” You try to take a deep breath in an effort to calm yourself. “Almost, but you guys were just in time.” You heave a shaky sigh. “That was terrifying.” You admit in a small voice.
“Y/N-chan.” Oikawa suddenly appears beside you, panting slightly, it’s obvious he’d been running. Yahaba and Watari are behind him. “I heard Iwaizumi call your name - are you alright?” One look at your face tells him that you probably aren’t quite alright, but you’re surrounded by your boys who are absolutely doting on you.
“I am now.” You say with a shaky smile. “Thanks, guys.”
“You are never, ever allowed to walk home alone again.” Oikawa’s tone is not one you’d argue with, even if you wanted to. Every single head nods in agreement.
NEKOMA
You’d all decided to go on a team beach trip, just for a day, to celebrate the training camp being over. It’s a perfect day, warm and sunny with just the slightest breeze and a few wispy white clouds in the sky. It means the beach is especially packed.
You have all the beach blankets and towels spread out with a few umbrellas and chairs, and you’re content to dig your toes in the sand and read your book. Many of the boys are splashing around in the water, and every so often you glance up to watch them, smiling to yourself. Kenma is laying near you with a t-shirt over his face, and Lev and Shibayama have set about building a sand castle nearby.
You hear a whistle, and you ignore it at first, but then it comes again, closer. Peering over the top of your book, you catch sight of two guys, perhaps around your age, not bothering to hide the fact that they’re absolutely ogling you.
“Hey there, sweetheart.” One of them says as they approach, and you cringe inwardly. Really? Kenma lifts an edge of the t-shirt to peer at you. “Want to come hang with us?” He jerks his chin in the direction of his friend.
“Ah, no thank you.” You say firmly, pulling your book a little closer to your face. They’re still hovering there, and the sandcastle making is forgotten as Lev rolls back onto his heels, taking in the situation. Kenma has pulled the t-shirt off his face and is sitting up now.
“Hey hey, Y/N-chan!” Yamamoto is jogging toward you, followed closely by Kuroo, Kai, and Yaku. “About those snacks you said you brought-” He cuts off when he notices the guys, and the way they’re standing a little too close to you.
“Oi.” Yamamoto’s expression darkens. “Everything alright over here?” Kuroo adds nonchalantly, though his expression is anything-but. They all take a few steps closer to you and the creeps, who take a few steps backwards.
“Y/N.” Kenma says quietly, gaze flickering between you, his teammates, and the strange boys. Lev has stood to his full height.
“We were just leaving.” They practically stumble over each other in their attempts at getting away fast. Immediately, you have a whole herd of volleyboys surrounding you, asking all at once if you’re okay.
“Of course, nothing even happened.” You smile even though you’re a little shaken. “That was close, though.”
“WE’LL NEVER LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN!” Yamamoto shouts, practically face-down in the sand. No one else is quite as vocal about it, but they all agree. Your boys will always protect you, no matter what.
KARASUNO
Spending a day at the mall with the team is always an adventure. There are constant stops at the various food stands and you’re pulled into one store, then another. You’re stuck in the sporting goods store looking at different pairs of sneakers for entirely too long, but you still love spending time with them.
“Do you think these look cooler, or these?” Noya asks you, holding up two different shoes. You tilt your head in thought for a few moments. “Definitely the yellow.” You finally decide with a grin, and he laughs. “I thought so too!” Just as he trots off to grab the box, you feel an arm around your shoulders.
“Hey, what’s someone like you doing in this store?” You’re so shocked that someone you don’t know would so brazenly touch you that you freeze. “You don’t look like the sporty type.” (First of all, what’s that supposed to mean, anyway? And second of all... EW) You finally shrug his arm off of you.
“I’m here with friends.” You say, trying to politely inch away. Tsukishima looks up from the other end of the aisle, and with a jab in Yamaguchi’s side, the two move closer to you.
When Daichi, Asahi, and Suga come into view from around the corner, you can feel the relief coursing through you. They seem to catch on, because they approach you quickly. Somehow, your new “friend” doesn’t seem to notice them.
“So, do you have a boyfriend?” If you didn’t before, now you have 12. Daichi finally speaks up.
“Hi there.” He’s smiling that smile, and if it was directed at you, you know you’d be quaking. The guy next to you blanches a bit, but he doesn’t move any further away. “Y/N, everything okay?” Suga gives you a pointed look.
“Ahh...” Before you can answer, Tanaka and Nishinoya explode onto the scene. “Hey, what’s the big idea?? Can’t you see that she doesn’t want to talk to you?” Tanaka’s face is suddenly inches away from his. It’s impressive how quickly he’d moved.
“Um.” The guy mumbles a pathetic apology as he turns away, and Noya shouting after him to “stay away” seems to have drawn everyone else’s attention.
Hinata drags Kageyama over. “Uwa, what happened?!” He’s looking at you anxiously. “Are you okay? Was that guy just hitting on you?”
“I’m okay.” You can finally smile, relieved. “Thanks to you guys.” You look from one face to another. “Some guys are such creeps.” You add with a sigh.
“Then we’ll protect you from all of them!” Hinata declares, with Tanaka and Nishinoya quickly agreeing. You even manage to laugh at that. “I love you guys.” You say fondly, warmth replacing the discomfort in your middle.
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i-need-entertainment · 4 years ago
Text
Haikyuu!! Boys as Bad Dad moments
Characters: Akaashi, Washio, Konoha, Kita, Suna, Ushijima, Yahaba, Iwaizumi, Futakuchi, Daishou and Numai
**These are ways they “failed” as fathers. I am not talking about ACTUALLY failing as fathers, just things dads have done that most of us either remember/get told about NOT TO BE TAKEN  S E R I O U S L Y  it is just for      f u n  I also gave them all at least 2 kids cause SibLiNgS**
A ‘*’ means it happened to me lol
TW- Mentions of giving too much medicine, accidental pain caused to child, these are things I either experienced/knew people who experienced them, allusion to cursing/a FEW bad words (but I substitute a letter for something else :)
*Akaashi Keiji: 
He had been working in his office when his son had come in.
You had been putting your newborn to sleep for a nap when your son decided he wanted to be with his dad.
His son was only 3, so when Akaashi was held up in his office editing his son, Kenji, would sometimes come in and plop himself in Akaashi’s lap.
His sons small feel padded on the floor while he made his way to his father, softly tugging on his pants as he stuck his arms up.
Akaashi smiled and softly chuckled before gently picking up his son from under his arms and placing him on his lap.
He got to work soon after, reading and revising the pages.
Other than having his son on his lap it wasn’t unusual for him to be drinking coffee while working.
Keep in mind, your son had inherited a lot from Akaashi, and not just his looks or personality.
But also his habits.
Because of this, your son was very fidgety, usually toying with a string or your fingers.
That meant he tended to move around a lot.
Akaashi had just lifted his not-so-cold coffee to his lips when his son had made a sudden movement, causing him to knock his arm and, “AHH” Akaashi’s eyes snapped open as his son started crying, cursing under his breath he stood up gently holding his son in his arms as he carried him to the bathroom.
Sitting him down on the counter he dried the coffee off of his son, luckily it hadn’t been hot enough to burn him, but it was still hot enough to hurt.
“What happened? I heard crying, is he okay?” Akaashi sighed as he ran a hand through his hair.
“Yeah, he’s okay, he bumped my arm and I spilled my coffee on him. He’s okay! It didn’t burn him, but it did hurt...” Your frowned as you stood in front of your son, giving him a soft smile before kissing his arm, cause kisses always make it feel better~
You carefully picked him up from the counter, rocking him slowly side to side as he burrowed into your shoulder.
“Are you okay little man~” He nodded as he sniffled into your shoulder, little hands clutching onto the fabric of your t-shirt.
“You know daddy didn’t mean it, it was an accident.” He nodded again, lifting his head to rub his eyes and reach out for his dad.
Akaashi gave a wobbly smile before reaching over to grab him, kissing the top of his head as he carried him back to his office, making sure to have some iced coffee instead.
Washio Tatsuki: 
This would be the first time Washio was left alone with the twins.
5 months ago, you and your husband had had your first children, your adorable fraternal twins Natsuki and Tatsuo.
Today would be the first day you would be away from them, but with your mother being sick and you being the only one available to take care of her you had to go.
You weren’t too worried about your husband, he was already a good dad so you had no doubt they were in good hands.
But it was never an enjoyable experience to have to leave your kids, especially your babies, and for the first time. 
So, you decided to leave early in the morning, give them their good morning kisses and head over to your parents house.
Before you left you changed their diapers, letting them play in their little play pen while your husband tried to get up.
Rubbing his eyes Washio walked into the play room.
He had to go to the gym today for a meeting, fortunately EJP had a really good daycare system in the stadium, so he could leave his kids there while he attended the short meeting.
He stopped in his tracks as his face blanched and he felt his breath stop.
You had changed the twins’ diapers...but you hadn’t dressed them.
The twins were still young, so without looking at their, uh, biological differences you couldn’t tell them apart....
Now, usually when this happened you guys would just check the diapers, but you had just done them..
And he was already running a bit late.
So, he made his best guess, got them dressed (one in pink, the other in blue), fed and in the car driving them to the stadium.
Once he got there he quickly dropped them off, rushing to his meeting.
The meeting had been fairly simple, just some pre-season info he’d need.
After chatting with his coach/teammates, and stopping Suna and Komori from pulling a prank, he made his way back to the daycare.
He walked into the building when one of the younger care takers, Yui, walked up to him, One twin in each arm.
He smiled as he carefully put them into their carriers.
“Uhm, just a question...” He looked up to her and motioned for her to continue.
“...Were you aware that Tatsuo was wearing the dress?” Washio sighed as he ran a hand down his face shaking his head. Yui light heartedly smiled, “Don’t worry, we switched them.” Thanking them, he picked up his babies and went home.
He was not prepared for the way you cackled when he told you what happened.
*Konoha Akinori: 
You had gone away for a business trip, leaving your husband Konoha home with your 3 kids. (You guys have 2 girls and a boy)
Your middlest child, your son Akira, had recently come down with a cold making the poor thing miserable when he tried to sleep.
Being the good dad that he is, he gave his son some benadryl!
The next morning he woke up, and after letting his kids sleep in for a little bit he woke them up too.
...two of them.
He tried several times to get his son to leave his bed, but the little kid couldn’t so much as swing one foot over the side of his bed with out falling asleep again.
He didn’t think too much of it, the kid had a cold after all.
So he let him sleep for another hour or so before making him get up for real.
A day later you got home, and everything was pretty much normal.
Until you went to put your son to bed, and realized he had crashed on the couch.
“...Uhm, Akinori?” Your husband lifted his head at your voice, setting the dishes in the sink and drying his hands with a towel as he made his way over to you. 
“Yeah babe?” You took a look over towards your son before looking back to your husband.
“...Has Akira been like that all weekend?” Konoha ran his hand through his hair as he sighed. “No, only since Saturday. He wasn’t feeling good so I gave him some benadryl, he’s been dead to the world since.” You slowly nodded.
“Uhm, Akinori?” He raised an eyebrow at you. “How much benadryl did you give him?”
He left to grab the box, coming back with it in his hand as he continued to look at it.
He shook his head in confusion. “I gave him the amount the box said, 1 teasp-”- He paused.
Uh oh.
He in fact, had not given his son a teaspoon of benadryl.
He had given him a tablespoon.
*Kita Shinsuke: 
You had to leave early one morning for a doctors appointment; you were pregnant with you and Kita’s second child. 
Usually for these appointments Kita’s grandmother would watch your 3 year old daughter Kyoka.
But she had something to do that morning so Kita was the one responsible for getting her ready for preschool.
Kita was a good father so you weren’t worried.
You knew she would be put together, fed, and on time.
There was just one thing you couldn’t account for.
“Daddy?” Kita looked away from the mirror he was shaving in and down to his daughter, washing away the traces of shaving cream. “Yes sweetheart?”
She held out her small hand, 2 bright pink hair ties with little butterfly charms on them held out in her palm.
“Can you do my piggy tails please?” His eyes widened.
He hadn’t done hair...like...ever.
But from the puppy eyes his little princess was giving him, how could he not do it?!
Plus, it couldn’t be that hard...right? I mean, he had watched you do it plenty of times, and it was pretty straight forward.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed he had her stand on the ground in front of him.
He grabbed her brush and put the two hair ties she had given him on his wrist.
He brushed her hair and parted it as evenly as he could, trying to be gentle in the process.
Now time for the pig tails..
He pulled her hair back, trying to make it tight to it would stay.
...But he might have made it a little too tight.
He turned her around and realized he had made them way too tight.
Not only did her hair look like he had slicked it back with x4 strength hair gel, but it was so tight that her eyebrows had been stuck way up on her forehead.
He was quick to turn her back around, loosening the hair ties so she looks like a 3 year old again.
His face turned undeniably red as he told you what happened later that night, you light heartedly laughing at his misfortune.
Suna Rintaro: 
Suna had just gotten out of practice, and now he was on the way to his kids school. 
You and Suna had 4 kids, 2 boys and 2 girls. 
The youngest 2 had a doctor’s appointment earlier that day, which you had taken them too. Meaning Suna needed to pick the older 2 up from elementary school.
He had been listening to music, his music to be specific.
He had pulled into the parking lot, changing the playlist to a kid friendly one right before his children got in the car.
After they had told him about their days, and he had told about his, he switched back on the music.
It had been fine for a song.
Until he realized that he had a few songs qued.
The fun little song had just ended when the bass dropped, the color draining from his face as soon as the song started.
The mentioned song being “Big Bank” by YG, 2 Chainz, Big Sean and Nicki Minaj of course~.
He was quick to turn the radio off, waiting until he could pull over, empty the que, and turn on kid friendly music.
He told the kids to ‘forget what they heard’ and he continued on his drive home.
Now, you’ve got to remember, his daughter is in kindergarten and his son is in 2nd grade, so they’re still kind of at that “monkey see, monkey do” age range.
Or rather, “monkey hear, monkey repeat.”
He thought it was gonna be okay, they were good kids so he figured telling them to forget they even heard it, they would let it go.
There was just one thing about his children that he didn’t account for.
As obedient and well behaved as his children were, they were also very curious.
That night at dinner they had all been sat down at the table, eating dinner and talking about their days. 
You had been feeding your infant son while Suna had been watching the 3 year old, the other 2 older children happily eating their food. Until...
“Hey mommy?” You looked at your daughter with a smile, “Yes baby?” She continued to eat her dinner, “What’s a b!tch?” Your eyes widened as your husband choked on his food, your baby laughing at the scene before him.
Hitting his chest and taking a sip of water Suna tried to catch his breath.
“Nezuko we don’t say that, where did you hear that?!” She tilted her head as she looked at you confused before turning to look at Suna, pointing a small finger at him.
“It was on the radio, daddy told us to ‘forget’ but I didn’t know what it meant...What does it mean?” You sent a glare towards your husband as you sighed.
After explaining to your daughter why it was bad to say those things and not to repeat everything she heard you cleaned up your kids and put them to bed.
...You had quite the conversation with your husband later that night.
Ushijima Wakatoshi: 
Ushijima had been on grocery duty this week since you had a meeting with a friend.
He had the Friday off, and since you weren’t home he took the kids with him.
Now, I would like you to know that you guys have 6 kids. S I X.
Growing up with no siblings and divorced parents, Ushijima wanted to make sure none of his kids were lonely.
Originally you guys had two, each kid had a buddy.
...but then you had a third, and you couldn’t just leave him alone...
so you had another...then another...
And now you guys have 6. But it’s okay cause you both love kids anyway~
He was doing his best, he truly was. He had his 2 youngest sitting in the little seat by the handle bar, 2 kids in the basket, 1 hanging onto the side and the oldest walking alongside him.
When they got to check out he had to take one of the kids out of the basket, so he opted for his 3rd oldest, his son Kazue, figuring he was older so it’d be a-okay.
He checked out his extensive amount of groceries before loading them up into his car, and his kids.
He pulled out of the grocery store parking lot and got on the road, his kids singing along to the radio and chatting amongst themselves.
They had been driving for 6 minutes when his oldest child, Ren, spoke up. “Uh, dad?” He hummed, briefly checking the rear view mirror before returning his gaze to the road. “When are we going back to get Kazue?” His face lost all color as his eyes widened.
As swiftly and safely as he could he pulled over to the side of the road, whipping around in his seat to take a head count. ‘1..2..3..4..5...oh sh-’ Turning back around he got back onto the road, taking the nearest u-turn and rushing back to the store. 
Unbuckling his kids from their carseats he hurried them back into the store, his oldest holding the 2nd borns hand, as he held all 3 of the younger ones in his arms.
He frantically entered the store, almost collapsing with relief when he saw his son sat at the customer service desk with the security guard, eating a lollipop before smiling when he saw his dad come to pick him up.
After giving proof that yes, he was his father, he took all of his kids back home after getting them some ice cream.
...this would be one conversation he was not excited to have with you....
Yahaba Shigeru: 
Yahaba and his 2 sons had been hanging out in the living room while you finished making some snacks in the kitchen.
Yahaba had been trying to set up a DVD player, you guys were going to watch some home-videos from your high school days but they were all on CD.
So, after borrowing one from his parents house, he set out to hook it up to the TV.
...Which was proving much more difficult then he first anticipated.
His two boys, Itsuki (6) and Hayato (8) were in there with him, ‘helping’ as they had called it.
Yahaba groaned as he sat back, a hand ruffling through his hair as he racked his brain to think of the problem.
You had finished preparing everything so you came in, with the food, and set it down on the coffee table.
You came up behind your husband, kneeling down behind him and placing your hands on his shoulders.
“How’s it going?” He sighed, leaning back into you.
“Well, I think I know what I need to do, I’m going to have to stick my hand back there though. Hey Hayato, can you help me out buddy?” The 8 year old excitedly nodded.
“Great, I need you to hold this flashlight here, hold it steady okay?” Hayato nodded with a ‘Yup!’ before Yahaba laid down on his side, maneuvering to where he could see the back of the TV.
All had been going well, he had just got it hooked up, and after having you test it, it worked!
He tried to get himself out from behind the TV, until a sharp edge caught his finger.
“Sh!t!” Your eyes widened, “Shigeru!” He hadn’t realized his slip up until he was out from behind the TV, faced directly with your glare.
“Kids, don’t say that.” His youngest blinked at him. “But why?”.
Kneeling down in front of him Yahaba tried to explain, but it was a little hard when you were glaring holes into the back of his head and his oldest was giggling at the situation.
*Iwaizumi Hajime: 
It was a weekend in summer vacation, and you and your husband were both off work.
This meant, you guys got a whole day to spend with your 3 boys, and one of the things you guys loved to do as a family was play games.
On this particular afternoon, your sons had chosen to play twister.
You were a little skeptical because you had 3 competitive, rambunctious boys. 
And an equally competitive rambunctious husband.
But after getting 4 identical pouts you couldn’t say no...
But, you elected to be the spinner. (..for your own safety)
“Left hand, green.” This put your middlest son in quite the predicament.
The only space available was the Green directly by his fathers hand, meaning he’d have to crawl under Iwaizumi.
“Okay Hajime, right hand, yellow.” Iwaizumi grimaced as he tried to reach it.
 This wasn’t good, the mat was slick, his hands were sweating-
“oOf” Before he could catch himself he had completely lost his balance, landing right on his son.
You gasped in horror as you saw the life get squeezed out of your 5 year old, scrambling from where you sat to check on your now pancaked son.
“...Hiro..are you okay..?” 
His small head shot up with a “I’m okay!” Before he, albeit wearily, stood up brushing off his godzilla t-shirt before continuing on with his life.
You took a deep breath as you sat back down, flashing a warning look towards your husband who sheepishly smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
And after checking that yes, your son really was okay, you guys continued on with some...safer games.
Futakuchi Kenji: 
You had left for a weekend visit to see your parents in your hometown, leaving your husband and Your 3 girls alone.
It was a friday night, so after having a less than healthy dinner, ice cream and a fair amount of other sweets, Futakuchi figured a movie before bed would be a good way to finish off the night.
He scrolled through netflix trying to find a movie he could watch with his girls.
“Daddy, can we watch snow white?!” Futakuchi looked down at his oldest, Hayami, before he shrugged. “Sure.”
He may be a guy, but he was not above watching princess movies if it meant his babies were happy. Besides, it was a disney movie, what bad could be in it!
Everything was going swell, until the witch showed up.
He felt the sick feeling of dread in his stomach as soon as he felt his middlest curl in tight to his side, his youngest hopping off of the couch and climbing into his lap.
...Disney SHOULD have been a safe bet, but with the way his 3 girls were clinging onto him for dear life, he probably should have previewed it first..
That night he put them to bed, reading them a quick story before giving them each a kiss on their forehead and tucking them into bed. 
15 minutes.
15 minutes of almost sleep when he heard you guys’ bedroom door creak open, 3 sets of little feet pad over to his side of the bed.
“...daddy..?” He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he opened them, brown eyes meeting the teary ones of his 3 children as they stood there. Speaking in as soft of a voice as he could he tried not to sound as tired as he knew he was.
“What is it munchkin?” His daughters all fidgeted where they stood, fiddling with the hems of their princess night gowns as they stood there.
“...We’re scared...can we sleep with you..?” Knowing he wouldn’t be able to get them to sleep like you could, and being incredibly tired himself he moved to the side, opening the covers and making room for all 3 of his princesses.
...This was going to be a long night for him.. 
Daishou Suguru: 
Daishou had been playing outside with his kids, his 2 year old son Kento and his 5 year old daughter Shizuko.
His son was sat on his shoulders, one of Daishou’s hands wrapped firmly around the boys ankles while the other pushed his daughter on the swing.
You had been inside getting dinner ready while they had been outside; smiling fondly at the smiles that were plastered on their faces.
When dinner had finished you walked to the sliding glass door, opening it and calling to them. “Dinners ready! Come inside and wash up so we can eat.” Your daughter and husband replied with ‘okay!’ as you went back to get plates. 
Slowing down the swing Daishou brought it to a stop so Skizuko could safely get off.
In all honesty, he was a good dad.
He was very mindful of his children and their surroundings, so they didn’t get hurt too often.
He was also very careful not to accidentally hurt them.
But accidents happen.
Walking to the back door, he, somehow either forgot or the thought didn’t register in his mind that his son was still perched on his shoulders.
He didn’t remember until a loud *whack!* was heard, and his sons cries sounded above him.
..He had tried going inside, through the door, with his son on his shoulders.
Bringing him down from his shoulders he quickly brought him inside to set him down on the counter, you almost screaming when you saw the bruise forming on his little forehead.
“Ah-wha-how- SUGURU! What happened?!”
Groaning Daishou gently put a small ice pack on his sons head, “...He whacked his head on the door frame...” You looked at him, “And how did he do that?”
Daishou sighed as he looked down, grimacing at the purple mark already present on his sons head.
...For the next few nights the couch became a good friend of his.
Numai Kazuma: 
Today was your son, Kazuya’s birthday. Today he would be turning 1.
Kazuya was the first, and so far only child you had with your husband of 3 years Kazuma Numai.
You and Numai were still learning how to be parents, and it had been an interesting journey to say the least, but you guys were doing good!
Your relatives and friends had just left, leaving you, Kazuma and your son.
It was pretty late so you started cleaning up in the kitchen and Numai started in the living room.
Kazuya had been pretty fussy, you both figuring he was tired, but when you tried to put him to sleep he wouldn’t even close his eyes.
So, deciding it’d be best to get it out of the way Numai held Kazuya as he was cleaning.
Things had been going just fine before Kazuya had reached out to grab at something on a nearby book shelf, causing the book shelf to start tipping over.
At that moment the only thing going through Numai’s mind was ‘stop the book shelf’, because at the moment, getting his son and him crushed by a bookshelf seemed like a very bad thing.
But what he hadn’t thought of was the fact that reflexively he had used both of his arms to stop said shelf (which didn’t even fall), the same two arms that had been holding his- “WAAAHH”
His eyes snapped down to the BABY he had just let go of, now crying on the floor.
You rushed into the living room, seeing your husband now cradling your still crying son, whispering apologies into his hair as he kissed the top of his head.
“Kazuma what happened?” 
He avoided eye contact. 
“...Kazuma...” Looking down he spoke.
“...I dropped him...”
...
“...you what?”
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