#and look at his life�� look at his mother— of course he is!
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All you wanted to be was a sandwich artist, like how Ma was, and how Grandma and Grandpa were.
You didn't think the decision to pursue such a career could potentially cost you your life.
Yet here you were, standing face-to-face with one of the city's most intimidating villains, who you decided would be such a great idea to base a sandwich off of. But could you really blame yourself? It was such a clever gimmick! It brought in a lot of customers, who were eager to try your sandwiches based off of the heroes and villains who seemed to have the city in the palm of their hands.
No wonder why the rent was so cheap... you should've expected that when moving to such a place.
And you also should've expected a villain to be curious enough to try a sandwich based off of them.
You should've expected a lot of things.
"H-hello, sir!" You stammered out. "Would you like to order anything?" You asked while giving a nervous smile, blinking rapidly as your heart threatened to explode from the amount of fear you were in.
It felt like you were serving royalty, and in a way, you were. His outfit was based on a prince's outfit, and he often fought with swords, bows, and arrows. The silver crown that adorned his head also helped convey the vibe you were privy to.
It felt like you were going to be beheaded if you misplaced a singular tomato on his sandwich.
"Hello," he replied back. He looked up at the menu and was silent for a good minute. The store was dead silent, as your customers stared at the man before you. Some began to quietly leave the building, others pulled their phones out, while a mother cautioned her children to "look away", as if you were about to be mutilated right then and there.
Finally, after a long moment, he spoke up again. "You make sandwiches based off of us?" He questioned.
"Y-yes. K-kind of a nice marketing technique if you ask me!" You squeaked out, trying to relieve the tension in the store.
He quickly looked down from the menu and right back at you, which caused you to slightly flinch.
You wanted to kick yourself for saying that.
Fortunately, he took the joke well, as he let out a quiet chuckle. "You're not wrong. I would've done the same thing... I should do the same thing..." He muttered that last sentence quietly to himself. "I'll take the 'Dark Flamboyant', please." He ordered while giving you such a kind smile, one would think that he was an actor on a preschool television show and not a cold-blooded villain.
"Of course!" You answered.
You then began the process of creating the sandwich right in front of him. Your hands shook as you felt his gaze observing your each and every move. Since you didn't die from a heart attack, you were sure you were going to die from your neck being slit by one of his swords, which he could summon at a moment's notice.
When you finished preparing his sandwich, you wrapped it up as neatly as you could, your hands still trembling from the anxiety that weighed on you like a steel beam. You rang up the price for the sandwich, and he paid using a credit card. After he finished paying, you carefully placed the sandwich into a paper bag, and handed it to him.
"Thank you!" He smiled at you again.
"No problem! Have a nice day!" You smiled back as your eye twitched.
He walked out of the store, his cape flowing elegantly behind him. As the door closed behind him, the whole store let out a collective sigh, and the tension in the atmosphere began to dissipate.
You passed out on the floor right then and there.
Later that day...
After a long day of serving sandwiches, you were now finally home, in the comfort of your own bed. You went to the website of your store to fix a minor issue, only to notice a new review.
It was the villain from earlier.
He had given you a five star review, and left a comment with it.
"This was one of the best sandwiches I've ever tasted in my entire life. The shop's atmosphere was pleasant, and the owner was very friendly. I think I'll come here again sometime. :)
If anyone tries to hurt this business in any way, contact me, and I'll deal with them for you!"
Reading that review left you speechless. You gently closed your laptop and stared at the ceiling.
You then decided to go to sleep, even though it was just past seven.
This day had been uncomfortably long and exhausting...
You own a sandwich shop in the heart of a superhero city. After gaining customers by making sandwiches based on heroes, you decided to try making some based on villains. Today, a villain stopped to review theirs.
#I had a lot of fun writing this!#I decided to name the villain in this “Dark Flame”#because why not#this guy has oc potential#if you see a post with him again you know what happened#I think I might write about this duo again but y/n will just be an actual character and not an insert#and I would make the story in third person 👍#writing prompts#writers on tumblr#writing#my writing
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If you're still taking ficlet requests, maybe a dark or soft dark Bucky who works for your dad?
I hope you like where I went with this, nonnie!
Dollhouse
Pairing: Soft Dark!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Word Count: Over 900
Warnings: Toxic family, implied cheating (not reader or Bucky), drug and drinking reference, inspired by the song Dollhouse. Soft!Dark Bucky Barnes and implied future dubcon/noncon.
You didn’t want to come home for the weekend. You lost track of how many times you told your dad that. It didn’t matter that you weren’t a child anymore or that you weren’t living at the mansion. The expectation was that you would play the part of a supporting daughter in front of his employees no matter what. It was laughable, if not utterly sad. Either most didn’t know your family was far from a happy one or they didn’t care. And why would they as long as they got what they wanted?
Places, places, get in your places. Throw on your dress and put on your doll faces.
“Dad, I’m going to change and go for a swim,” you announced.
Your dad along with the group of men that surrounded him turned their heads toward you. Most of the men averted their gazes after a moment, except for one: Bucky Barnes. Ever since he started working for your dad he took an unexpected interest in you. He was always asking about your personal life, and he seemed all too happy when your recent relationship ended. Your dad, of course, loved him because he was a hard worker and made him money.
“Where’s your brother?” your dad asked, making you look away from Bucky.
“Couldn’t tell you,” you answered. If you had to guess, he was off in his room getting high.
“Okay. Just enjoy your swim, princess.” You did your best not to roll your eyes at the nickname. “But make sure you’re set for dinner. Your mother’s cooking your favorite.”
You did roll your eyes this time, and Bucky continued to stare. Your mom never lifted a finger in the kitchen. She’d order out and make it look like she did it herself.
Everyone thinks that we're perfect. Please don't let them look through the curtains.
“Of course, dad,” you said, leaving without another word and feeling a pair of cold blue eyes follow your every move.
The chatter from the main room filled the hall as you went to your room to change, the sound muffled once you shut the door. You blocked it out as best as you could as you selected one of your bathing suits and changed. You hoped your mom wouldn’t drink too much and embarrass herself at dinner. You also hoped your dad was smart enough not to bring a side piece around until after she passed out. It could be a little entertaining though if your brother ran his mouth.
Picture, picture, smile for the picture. Pose with your brother, won’t you be a good sister?
“Well, look at you.”
Your heart leapt to your throat when you turned around to see Bucky standing by your bed. He held your cover up in his hand. How the hell did he get in your room so quietly? Why was he there?
“What the hell are you doing?” you demanded.
“Sorry. I was trying to find the bathroom,” he said. A terrible lie, like he didn't even try. “Such a large place, you know. Easy to go through the wrong door.”
“Do you normally pick up garments that don’t belong to you when you’re 'lost'?” you asked, trying to take it from him.
He pulled his hand out of reach. “Not normally, but I couldn’t resist,” he said, not hiding the lust in his eyes as they landed on your chest and slowly drifted down. “You know, you have a pretty fucked up family.”
“Tell me something I don't know,” you scoffed.
Everyone thinks that we're perfect. Please don't let them look through the curtains.
“Allow me,” he offered as his gaze flickered back to your face.
“No, thanks,” you said, attempting to grab the cover up again as he narrowed his eyes.
"Turn around,” he ordered, his voice deeper and gruffer than before. “I won't tell you twice.”
Tell, not ask.
You hoped your trembling wasn't noticeable when you turned and faced the mirror, having to look at his reflection as he slowly walked up behind you. He was handsome, you couldn’t deny that, and large. He could overpower you easily.
“This is such a beautiful color on you. Must drive all the boys crazy when you wear it. Also must be why your daddy keeps you locked up as much as he can,” he said more to himself than to you as he ran a gloved finger down your side. “But I’m not a boy, am I?”
“He doesn’t keep me locked up,” you whispered, unsure of why you were arguing. Maybe it would distract you from his touch.
He brought his mouth to your ear, his eyes locked with yours in the mirror. “You think because you live on your own that you’re free? That you aren’t watched at all times?” He asked, chuckling when you shivered again. “You may be your daddy's princess, but you'll be mine soon enough.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I make your dad a lot of money. He owes me.” He straightened up and slipped the fabric over your shaking frame. “As much as I hate to cover up such a beautiful piece of art, I may lose control if I don't,” he said, as if he had the right to do so. “Keep your door unlocked for me tonight.”
“I won't-”
He had a hand around your throat, but didn't squeeze. “You will,” he said, kissing your temple. “And we'll see if you can keep quiet.”
Love and thanks for participating in Ficlet Friday! ❤️ And this one may be fun to continue.
#navybrat writes#ficlet friday#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x you#soft!dark bucky barnes#soft!dark bucky barnes x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky imagine#james buchanan barnes#the winter soldier#sebastian stan characters#x reader#sweet nonnie
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"Your girl" - Part 1 | The Salesman x Reader
Summary: After getting attacked at the train station, you get rescued by a mysterious stranger. But is that really better?
Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, attempted rape, violence, murder, hints of blood and gore, trauma talk
He was a twisted motherfucker. And you knew it was your own fault you ended up in his claws. But how could you have possibly known? After all, at first he seemed like the good guy.
Looking back, it was entirely lost on you, how he managed to pull that off.
You remembered vividly how it felt when you sat on the cold bench in the waiting area of the underground train station, just like you did every evening of your life. Except for Sundays. Sundays were reserved for books and tv shows, to numb out your mind. Sundays were for you.
Your thoughts had been occupied with work and the feeling of your lower body slowly freezing off.
UTI, honey. You'll get UTI, if you sit on cold surfaces for too long. Your mothers voice took up a lot of space in your head, despite the fact that the last time you saw her was years ago. It still made you feel uneasy, but there was not much you could do. She was your mother, your inner voice, your compass. The part of your mind that still relied on her advice didn't know that she was long gone from your life and for a reason.
The first thing you noticed was a pair of cold hands reaching for you. Everything seemed to be cold that day. And God, you hated the cold.
His cold hands reached for you and before you even realized it, he had you pinned against the bench, trapped in-between him and the cold surface. You didn't have time to react at all. His one cold hand went up to cover your mouth, while his other cold hand cupped your breast through the fabric of your clothes.
Of course you struggled. It was a reflex. You tried to fight him off as soon as you realized what was going on. You struggled and squirmed, at some point you even tried to knee him in the crotch. But he straddled your waist, keeping you down with his weight and you knew where this was leading.
You hadn't even seen his face. His ugly ass blue hat with the dove on top was pulled down deep in his face and you couldn't make out his eyes. Not that it would have changed anything, but it made everything even worse for you.
But what was by far the worst thing, wasn't the cold. It wasn't even the fact that the station was empty except for the two of you. The worst thing was that no sound came out when you opened your mouth to scream. No sound at all.
Oh, how you had feared that. The dream came often, frequently even and it was a shitty feeling every time, wanting to scream but no sound came out. Your throat was tight, your tongue useless, your lips parted in a silent plea.
No.
This was the end, you were sure.
He'd violate you and if you were lucky, he'd leave you like that, on the cold bench, to fend for yourself. But that wasn't your biggest fear. Your biggest fear was what would happen if he didn't decide to leave you like that.
Maybe it'd be quick. A blade to your throat and within a few minutes everything would finally be over.
But what if not?
A knot built in your stomach as you saw your future right infront of you. Sold off to some twisted people, spending the rest of your life as a tool for someone else's pleasure, someones amusement, someones-
No, being violated wasn't your worst fear.
Being sold off was.
At some point people would believe you were dead and then they'd stop searching.
Tears streamed down your face and your body shook with suppressed sobs as he ripped at your shirt impatiently. Your lips parted in another desperate plea, but still, no sound.
You were done for. This was your end. You couldn't breathe.
Until, suddenly, you could again.
You let out a shuddery gasp when you felt his weight lift off of you. You were frozen solid after you backed away against the wall.
The man appeared out of nowhere, looking like someone from a novel or a movie.
His hair, which looked like it was normally slicked back neatly, hung into his face as he dragged the man off you, his expression twisted into something you couldn't read.
You took a deep breath. In. And out. In. And out.
You were safe. The police would come, the man would get arrested and he wouldn't ever touch you again. You would finally see his eyes and-
Oh God.
You winced outwardly when you heard the cracking sound and the man with the blue hat went limp in his arms. His unreadable expression turned into something resembling smugness.
You watched in horror as he tossed the lifeless body onto the train line. The train came on time. Of course it did. Punctuality was a good deed, especially here in South Korea.
What you witnessed then was probably the most gruesome scene of your life and you immediately knew you would never get that picture out of your head.
The sound of a gunshot forced you back to reality and you winced painfully. When you looked up, you saw him still pointing his gun at the security camera in the left corner of the area. On his face a subtle smile. The twisted smile of an avenging angel...or an obvious demon.
He pushed the gun back beneath his waistline and held out his hand to you.
The man who had almost destroyed your life was dead, scattered across the train station in blood and gore and the man who would undoubtedly destroy your life held out his hand to you.
You heard your mothers voice again, small and subtle.
Don't take his hand, honey. Something's most definitely wrong with him. I bet he's dangerous.
That was what made you take his hand in the end. However bad he was, he couldn't possibly be worse than her, could he?
A few minutes later, he made a point of passing about every car on the highway.
"Where do you live?" His voice was like silk. It was terrifying.
After what had happened, you felt like you had stopped breathing for a while and just now were you slowly getting back to it again.
No ins and outs. Straight up hyperventilating.
"I- I don't know." You gasped out truthfully.
He cocked a brow and briefly glanced at you from the drivers seat.
"You don't know?"
You frantically shook your head.
"I always take the same path. From the train station, take a turn left and- and-"
"Where are you from, sweet girl?" His voice sounded so calm, as sweet as honey. It was almost offensive, it was infuriating.
"Yorkshire." You whispered without missing a beat.
He hummed softly and briefly eyed you up and down. "England, hm? I should have recognized from your grace and beauty."
Was he fucking flirting with you? After he just...just murdered someone?
"What takes you to South Korea then? School? Uni?"
"Work." You murmured, not even recognizing your own voice. But at least by now it was back. Fucking betrayed by your own body, wonderful.
He raised his brows as he passed another car in a nerve-wrecking speed.
"Work? You look a little young to be that far from home, working here. Do you even speak the language?"
You subtly shook your head and he nodded.
"I work with...with computers." You mumbled absentmindedly. In your head, the scene from earlier kept repeating like a broken record. All that blood...
He hummed again. An odd sound. He radiated such a calm energy, it was truly confusing.
"You were awfully quiet earlier." He remarked.
You swallowed back the lump in your throat and looked out of the window.
"Ah. Sore spot. I get it."
At first you had thought he might be taking you to the police station. But then you realized; after he just butchered someone down without flinching? Probably not.
Still, you had hope. That was until you saw the city sign disappear in the rear view mirror. This wasn't good. Maybe for once you should have listened to your mothers voice.
"Where are you taking me?" You asked quietly.
He didn't respond, just kept his gaze firmly on the highway before you. You kept glancing at him for a while, before eventually you looked down at your hands. You hadn't even realized how much they were shaking. You wanted to ask many, many questions.
Who the hell are you?
Where are we going?
Why did you kill that man?
...Am I next?
But all you managed was a quiet, desperate exhale.
"Are you hungry?" He asked matter-of-factly.
You thought back to the massacre and immediately felt nauseous again, so you shook your head.
"Yes, you are. You need to keep your strength. Don't worry, sweet girl. We'll be home soon. I'll take good care of you."
The cold sweat that broke out on your body was nearly painful. You knew he wasn't normal, but you couldn't yet tell to which extent he was crazy.
Was he just a little twisted?
He was a killer after all. And now you were with him. In his car. Maybe, just maybe you could...
You glanced down at the doorhandle, when his calm voice made you jump.
"Don't even think about it, sweet girl. That won't work. I'm driving so fast, the second your body hits the pavement, your head will explode like a balloon."
The was that tightness in your throat again. But this time something was different. He had his hands on the steering wheel, not on you. You could still breathe.
Suddenly you saw yourself again, sold off. And damn it, suddenly exploding didn't sound so bad anymore.
You furiously tugged on the door handle, but it didn't work. It was locked. You kept trying it desperately, a soft passing your lips. After a few moments you realized it was pointless.
Slowly you tilted your face back towards him, only to realize he was already watching you. He was still smiling that subtle, not at all genuine, smile, but this time something was different. It was like a cold fury had taken possession of his eyes.
Maybe he wasn't a demon. Maybe he was the devil.
"That one was free. Because we don't know each other all too well yet." He said slowly. "But next time, I won't be so forgiving."
You looked back at the street ahead of you. And suddenly you realized something. Maybe he was worse than your mother.
God, what a terrifying thought.
About half an hour later, there you were. Home.
A great apartment complex, somewhere God knows where.
Suddenly it hit you. He hadn't covered your eyes. Not in the car, not infront of the house, not in the elevator.
You weren't leaving this place, at least not alive.
He led you inside one of the apartments. To your surprise, everything looked pretty normal, except for the part that it looked fairly expensive.
The walls were painted in a warm apricot color and the floor was made of dark wood.
He led you deeper inside and you realized, it was indeed a normal flat. The couch was made of black leather and there was a giant bookshelf, next to a big tv. For some reason the sight of the bookshelf brought you an odd sense of comfort.
How bad could a person be, if he was well-read?
Your mind soon wandered off to Hannibal Lecter and you dismissed the thought.
"Sit."
You sat down on the couch as instructed. All the while you were careful to keep your shoes off the cream colored carpet so you wouldn't get it dirty. It was odd how your mind worked.
He followed your gaze, his expression unreadable again.
Then he crouched down before you, so you were eye level with him. His eyes were of a pretty brown and soulless to the core. You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. He sized you up for a while, until eventually he sighed. An exaggerated, mocking sound.
"How do you like it here?"
Your insides twisted.
"It's pretty." You said in a choked whisper.
He laughed, a hearty, yet sarcastic sound.
"Look at you. Just look at you. Being my good girl already." He said slowly.
He leaned in so close that his breath tickled your ear. You forced yourself to stay still.
"The door can be opened only by me. The same goes for all windows. All the walls are soundproof. There's no way you can get out, until I want you to. Do you understand?" For the first time, his voice was low and you could grasp the subtle threat. He didn't pretend to be cheerful for once.
Or was it truly pretense?
You forced yourself to nod.
And just like that, his twisted smirk was back.
"Very well." He swiftly stood up. "What would you like for dinner?"
You slowly tilted up your head to read his expression. Read his intention. Read his character or the lack of it. But there was nothing. Nothing for you understandable, nothing that made any kind of sense.
"I'm not hungry." You whispered.
He pretended to pout, but eventually held out his hand to you again. A bittersweet deja-vu. As much as you wanted to refrain from taking it this time, you were far more afraid of what would happen if you refused him.
You hesitantly took his hand and he pulled you up to your feet.
"Maybe a nice, hot shower then?" He purred.
Of course. This time, it wouldn't be a faceless man with a blue hat to violate you, it would be him. The devil himself. You could already feel it, smell it and taste it. In the shower, on the bed, the kitchen counter, the floor and against the wall, until he grew tired of you.
That was why you were there. That had to be.
Before you could react, he had led you back to a spacious bathroom. Everything looked ridiculously clean and expensive. The freestanding tub was sparkling and the fluffy towels begging to dry you off.
He'd bend you over the tub. Maybe push your head under water. You knew he would. Just a minute more.
Instead, he gently ushered you inside.
"I'll get you something clean to sleep in." He said matter-of-factly. "I'll leave it infront of the door. Take as much time as you need."
With that, he disappeared and closed the door behind him. Your eyes widened almost comically. You then rushed forward to lock the door, which worked with ease. Next, the window. You tugged on the handle, desperate to open it. Not that it would have made any sense, you were too high above the street. But the thought of opening the window still filled you with hope. Like maybe, at least there would be one way out.
When nothing worked, you tried to break the glass. But you quickly noticed it was no normal glass. He hadn't lied. The windows provided no way out.
You slumped down below the sink and cried for a while. To no great surprise of yours, your tears ran dry quickly and you just sat in silence for a while.
You were trapped.
And you had no idea what you were here for.
After what felt like half an hour, you got up with shaky legs and decided to check if the door was truly locked. It was. You unlocked it and perked your head out, only to realize he had left you a bathrobe outside, as well as slippers and a nightdress. It was pretty basic, made of cotton. But it wasn't revealing or anything. The thought was oddly comforting. You picked up the clothes and disappeared back into the room, where you locked the door and sighed.
Your eyes settled on the tub and you thought, why the hell not?
You made quick process of it. You got rid of your sweat-soaked clothes and stepped into the tub. The water filled up the tub rather quickly. At least the warmth of it provided some kind of comfort. You poured some scented lavender oil in and sunk deeper down.
You didn't dare close your eyes though. You were still sure he would come and take what he wanted. Mayhe he just wanted you to be clean first? He would come. He surely would.
But he didn't. Minutes passed, another half an hour. And he didn't come. You rinsed off and stepped out of the tub. The giant, fluffy towels felt heavenly against your skin. It was almost like you were in a hotel. Except for the murder and abduction part.
You slipped into the nightdress and the slippers and towel dried your long hair. Then you folded the towel neatly and placed it on the radiator. After a few long, deep breaths you carefully stepped outside. The cold air brought you back to reality as you followed back the same path he had led you earlier. You were surprised to find the living room empty, but you heard rustling sounds from the kitchen.
And then your gaze settled on the door.
It were less than five steps. You could make it. You could. If you were quick and took off the slippers, you could stealthily...
"Sweet girl?" That fake sweetness again, with the hint of underlying warning to it. You swallowed thickly and looked up. He stood in the doorway and looked at you with something resembling a warm smile.
"How was your bath?"
You stood frozen. Five small steps. If you thudded against the door loud enough, maybe someone might hear. Alert the police. Rescue-
"I asked you a question."
"Good." You whispered. And involuntarily added: "Thank you."
Good girl, purred your mothers voice.
But all he did was smile.
"Come, I made dinner. Just a few bites."
Your mind drifted back to Hannibal Lecter and you nearly spat. A careful glance into the kitchen and...
Pancakes. You gasped in relief.
He tilted his head to the side, smiling softly.
"You don't like pancakes?"
"I do." You whispered involuntarily.
They might be poisoned, but the fact that you hadn't eaten anything since lunch at work got the better of you. He slowly guided you into the kitchen and sat you down on one of the chairs, before he sat down opposite you.
He caught you staring down at the food suspiciously, which made him chuckle.
"They're not poisoned."
When you still didn't move, he rolled his eyes and took a bite off your fork. He chewed and swallowed with a smug expression.
"See?"
You reluctantly moved. They weren't bad. Pretty good even. You chewed carefully and never took your eyes off him. He did the same. And he still looked so unbelievably calm.
After you finished eating and downed a glass of water, you stared at him...expectantly.
His smirk widened.
"A curious little bird, aren't you?"
He narrowed his eyes somewhat and reached out to touch your cheek. "You cried."
To your surprise, when you flinched, he pulled his hand back and hummed softly.
"No need to cry, sweet girl. I'll take care of you. All you have to do is agree."
You already regretted asking. "Agree to what?"
He leaned back and bared his teeth in a predatory smile.
"Being mine."
Your brows furrowed in confusion and straight up stress. The calming effects of the bath were slowly fading away.
"What?"
"Mine, sweet girl. My girl."
"Your girl?" You asked somewhat incredulously, which was something he didn't seem to appreciate.
He reached out and cupped your face in his hand, his grip firm, but not painful. Yet. Your heart immediately skipped several beats.
"Oh, you will agree, sweet girl. The question is, will you agree willingly? Or do I have to make you?" He narrowed his eyes even further.
"Who are you, sweet girl?"
You stared up at him with wide, fearful eyes. Something told you that there was no right answer to that question.
And then, in a rare fit of courage, you said your name.
He took a long, deep breath and slowly dropped his hand from your chin.
"That's very tragic, sweet girl."
With a disapproving tsk he shook his head.
"Unfortunately, that was the wrong answer."
#squid game#squid game fanfic#squid game fanfiction#squid game x reader#squid game x yn#squid game x you#salesman#the salesman#the salesman squid game#squid game the salesman#squid games salesman#salesman squid game#salesman x reader#the salesman x reader#salesman x yn#the salesman x yn#salesman x you#the salesman x you#the salesman smut#squid game smut#gong yoo
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𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐀𝐑 | 𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐀𝐄 𝐁𝐘𝐄𝐎𝐊 ౨ৎ
pairing : saebyeok x fem!reader
fluff
warnings : none
summary : Cheol starts seeing you as a mother figure
a/n : inspired by @karli6 comment on one of my posts bc it’s so cute i couldn’t not write about it
𝐓he scent of lavender fills your small apartment, a comforting aroma that’s become synonymous with Saebyeok. it’s a stark contrast to the grit of her life, the harsh edges that you know so well, and a gentle reminder of the soft woman beneath. you’re perched on the edge of the couch, a half-finished crossword puzzle abandoned in your lap. Saebyeok is at the small table, her brow furrowed in concentration as she counts the meager money spread out before her.
you watch her, a fondness blossoming in your chest. you love that even in her moments of vulnerability, there’s a strength that radiates from her. it’s the same strength that protects her younger brother, Cheol.
speaking of Cheol, a small, hesitant cough echoes from the doorway. you look up and see him, his backpack slung low on his shoulders, his eyes large and uncertain. he’s holding out a crumpled sheet of paper.
“i… i need some help.” he mumbles, his gaze darting between you and Saebyeok.
Saebyeok glances up, her expression softening as she notices Cheol. “homework again?” she sighs, a hint of exasperation in her voice. she picks up a pen, ready to tackle the task at hand. but Cheol shakes his head, his focus locked on you.
“not for you.” she shuffled closer, his gaze imploring. “can you help me, please?”
your heart melts. it’s not that Saebyeok isn’t good at academics, but her way of teaching sometimes involves a lot of direct answers, whereas you prefer a more patient, guiding approach. you know that Cheol can be easily intimated, and perhaps you offer a calmer space for him to learn.
you set aside your crossword and smile, beckoning him closer. “of course, Cheol. let me see.”
he practically barrels himself into the space next to you on the couch, his small body warm against your side. as you smooth out the paper, you see it’s a math problem involving fractions, a subject dreaded by many young students.
“okay,” you say, pointing to the equation with a pen. “this looks a little tricky, but we can break it down. what do you think about first finding the common denominator?”
you spend the next half hour patiently explaining the concepts, drawing diagrams on scrap paper, and gently nudging him towards the solution. you praise him for every small victory, and his eyes light up each time he grasps a new idea. you realize these moments are precious. you enjoy being able to support and teach him.
Saebyeok watches from the table, a subtle smile playing on her lips. when you finally help Cheol arrive at the correct answer, he bursts into a grin, his satisfaction radiating through the room.
“thanks! you’re the best!” he declares, his eyes shining with newfound confidence. he scrambles off the couch, heading to his room, leaving a trail of discarded papers in his wake.
you turn to Saebyeok, a warm feeling settling in your chest. “he’s a smart kid, just needs a little encouragement.”
she nods, her eyes holding a complex mix of affection and almost… relief? “yeah.” she says quietly, returning to the money.
over the next few weeks, you notice a pattern forming. Cheol starts seeking you out for help with his homework more often. it’s never forced, always a gentle request. and you never refuse. you find yourself looking forward to the quiet evenings spent poring over textbooks and diagrams with Cheol. it’s a nice change of pace from the anxiety and fear that usually permeates both his and Saebyeok’s lives.
sometimes. he even asks for help with things beyond schoolwork. it’s in these seemingly mundane moments, as you help him, that you feel a strange connection to Cheol, like you’re something more than just his sister’s girlfriend.
one evening, as you’re helping him with a particularly challenging history assignment, Cheol pauses, his small fingers tracing the outline of an illustration in his textbook. he looks up at you, his eyes wide and earnest.
“you’re like mom,” he says, the words spilling out before he can think them through. “she used to help me with my homework too.”
a wave of emotion washes over you. it’s not even a conscious decision, but you pull him into a gentle hug, holding him close. it’s a bittersweet revelation. his mother is a gaping hole in both their lives, a void you can’t ever hope to truly fill. but if you can offer him a semblance of stability, of care, it’s something you desperately want to do.
you feel Saebyeok’s eyes on you from across the room. you look up and lock her eyes. she’s watching you with a soft smile on her face, a silent understanding passing between you. she knows the weight you carry with Cheol’s words, and she knows the strength you hold within as well.
you squeeze Cheol gently, kissing the top of his head. “well, i’ll try my best, okay?” you say, before returning to the history book, a different kind of warmth filling the space within your small, lavender-scented apartment. it’s more than just homework, it’s the beginning of something that feels like family. and you wouldn’t trade it for anything.
#kang sae byeok#kang saebyeok#sae byeok#saebyeok#kang sae byeok x reader#kang saebyeok x reader#sae byeok x reader#saebyeok x reader#squid game#squid game x reader
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Family Outings | K. Sy
Genre: Fluff, parents au!
Summary: In a family outing, Soonyoung finally able to make a proper thanks to his mother after trying to keep up with his sons.
Welcome to The Densworld Kwon Soonyoung 🤍🌼
Soonyoung’s life became a whirlwind of joy and laughter ever since he started a family with you. From the moment he got married, he always imagined himself as a quintessential "girl dad." In his daydreams, he pictured himself wearing a sparkly tiara, cradling a tiny teacup, and proudly sporting mismatched nail polish in the favorite colors of his daughters. He thought he’d master the art of braiding hair and join endless tea parties with princess costumes and giggles filling the air.
But life had other plans. The moment his first son, Kwon Yootae, was born, he realized he was destined to be a father of sons. And not just any father—he was made for this. The role suited him so naturally it even surprised him.
Got a kid who needs to burn off endless energy? Enter dancer Soonyoung, always ready to tire them out with moves no one asked for.
Need a little discipline in the house? Strict Soonyoung appears, balancing warmth with authority in a way that commands respect.
Kid having a bad day and needing a laugh? Comedian Soonyoung is there to clown around, pulling faces, cracking jokes, and doing whatever it takes to make his sons’ smiles come back.
“I could do this forever,” Soonyoung said one day, grinning ear to ear. “Raising boys is the most fun I’ve ever had.”
“It’s because you always act like you’re their age,” Jihoon retorted, deadpan as always, delivering a truth Soonyoung couldn’t argue with.
Soonyoung’s sons, six-year-old Yootae and four-year-old Gitae, couldn’t be more different yet somehow mirrored him in distinct ways. Yootae, the eldest, was calm and reserved, much like you. He had a love for books that made your heart swell with pride, often curling up beside you for hours, reading quietly. But his need for attention? That came straight from Soonyoung. Yootae had a knack for saying the funniest things or sharing bizarre, almost unbelievable facts just to make people look his way. And when he succeeded, his little face lit up, a perfect blend of your quiet charm and Soonyoung’s flair for the spotlight.
Then there was Gitae, your little firecracker. Gitae was the embodiment of pure energy, a whirlwind of flips, jumps, and splits that seemed to defy the laws of physics. The only time he ever slowed down was when he caught a cold—and you and Soonyoung dreaded those moments more than anything. You’d much rather have him bouncing off walls than lying listlessly in bed. “He’s like me on a sugar rush,” Soonyoung joked once.
The group chat was always buzzing with stories of Soonyoung’s adventures as a dad. One night, he shared an anecdote that left the members of Seventeen in stitches.
“You should see Gitae during family mafia games,” Soonyoung said, shaking his head in disbelief. “He’s just like me—so good at bluffing, it’s scary. Sometimes he gives me goosebumps.”
“Wait,” Jun interjected, shocked. “Did you just call your son a freak?”
“Well, he is! In the best way!” Soonyoung laughed, completely unbothered.
Raising boys had turned Soonyoung’s world upside down in the most beautiful way. It wasn’t what he initially envisioned, but it was even better. The bond he shared with Yootae and Gitae was special, filled with laughter, chaos, and tender moments that made him grateful every single day. Watching Soonyoung thrive as a dad, you couldn’t help but smile. He was the kind of father who made parenting look like an adventure, and your family was all the better for it.
"Dad, promise me you'll watch my drum recital next week," Yootae said, his small face filled with determination as he walked into the kitchen where Soonyoung was helping you prepare dinner.
Soonyoung glanced at him, smiling warmly. "Of course, I’ll be there. But how about you help me with something first?" He handed Yootae the utensils and gestured toward the dining table. "Set the table for me, champ."
As Yootae dutifully walked off to complete his task, Gitae was sprawled on the living room floor, eyes glued to a video of one of Soonyoung's dance practices. Mimicking every move with astonishing precision, he twirled, jumped, and hit every beat as if he were part of the team.
“Gitae, great move!” Soonyoung called out, beaming with pride as he caught sight of his younger son nailing one of the harder steps. Turning back to you, he leaned against the kitchen counter with a grin. “What do you think about him becoming an idol someday?”
“That’d be good,” you replied with a knowing smirk, stirring the soup bubbling on the stove. “We’ll send him to dance practice every time you bribe him with candy.” The sharp edge of sarcasm in your tone wasn’t lost on Soonyoung, and he winced at the memory.
You were referring to the night he’d given the boys candy—secretly, of course—before heading out to work, leaving you alone to deal with the sugar-induced chaos that followed. It had taken hours to calm them down and even longer to get them to sleep.
Soonyoung walked over to you, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. Sliding his arms around your waist from behind, he rested his chin lightly on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, baby. No more candy without your consent. I promise.”
“That includes donuts too,” you shot back, though your voice softened as his warmth melted away your annoyance.
Soonyoung nodded solemnly, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on your cheek. “And donuts. Noted.”
You couldn’t help but laugh quietly at his sincerity, even if you knew his mischievous streak wouldn’t vanish overnight. You were strict about what your kids consumed for good reason. You worked hard to ensure their meals were balanced, nutrient-packed, and beneficial to their growing bodies. Too much sugar turned them into tiny whirlwinds of energy, leaving them cranky and impossible to settle when bedtime rolled around.
"Yootae, don’t forget to line up the chopsticks neatly!" you called, glancing at your eldest, who was now carefully arranging the cutlery.
“Okay, Mom!” he responded, his voice cheerful.
From the corner of your eye, you noticed Gitae attempting to replicate a more complicated move from the video, almost toppling over but recovering with a laugh. Soonyoung released you and clapped his hands in encouragement. “That’s it, Gitae! You’ve got this!”
In the middle of dinner, Soonyoung’s phone buzzed on the counter. He picked it up, his face lighting up when he saw who was calling. “It’s Mom,” he said, quickly answering. “Hi, Mom! What’s going on?”
His mother’s cheerful voice filled the room, audible even to you and the kids. “Hi, sweetheart! We’re planning a little family outing next weekend, but this time, we’re keeping it simple—just in the backyard. Your sister is coming too, and we’re hoping to see everyone there. It’s been too long since we’ve all been together!”
“Backyard barbecue?” Soonyoung guessed, grinning as he leaned back in his chair.
“Exactly! Dad’s already excited to fire up the grill, and I’m planning to make everyone’s favorite dishes. You should come early so the boys can play in the garden,” his mom said.
“That sounds perfect!” Soonyoung replied enthusiastically, his voice a little louder than usual as excitement bubbled through him. “The boys will love it. We’ll definitely be there!” His grin widened as he placed his phone down, and it was clear he was already imagining the day—the laughter of children running through his parents’ backyard, the smell of grilled meat wafting in the air, and the warmth of family all around.
He turned to you, his eyes bright and full of joy, as if the plan had already taken shape in his mind. “It’ll be great!” he said, his hands gesturing animatedly. “A cozy backyard gathering, all the cousins playing together, Mom’s food, Dad’s barbecue skills—how could it get any better?”
You smiled faintly at his enthusiasm, but the feeling of guilt that had been sitting in the pit of your stomach all day now weighed heavier. The truth you’d been putting off telling him clawed its way forward, demanding to be spoken. You shifted slightly in your seat, the clinking of your chopsticks against your bowl breaking the silence.
“It does sound lovely,” you started, choosing your words carefully. “But I have a work commitment that weekend. I don’t think I can make it.”
The happy buzz in the room dimmed just slightly. Soonyoung paused, processing your words, before flashing you an understanding smile. “That’s okay,” he said, his tone reassuring. “I’ll take the boys, and we’ll represent the Kwon family in full force. You can catch up with us after your work is done.”
“Are you sure?” you asked, guilt tugging at you. “That’s a lot to handle on your own, especially with Gitae’s energy.”
Soonyoung leaned closer, his signature playful grin returning. “Have you forgotten who I am? I’m Kwon Soonyoung—master entertainer, expert dad, and barbecue connoisseur. I’ve got this.”
Yootae, who had been quietly listening, looked up with a hint of concern. “But, Mom, you won’t be there to eat Grandma’s pie with us.”
Your heart sank, and you reached out to hold his little hand. “I know, sweetheart. I’ll miss that, too. But I promise we’ll have a special day just for us soon, okay? I’ll even make your favorite pie.”
Yootae nodded slowly, his lips forming a small smile. “Okay, Mom.”
Meanwhile, Gitae, who had been more focused on his plate than the conversation, suddenly perked up. “Can we play tag in Grandpa’s garden, Dad? I’m really fast!”
“Fast? Ha! I’m faster!” Soonyoung teased, ruffling his youngest son’s hair. “We’ll see who’s the fastest in the family on Saturday.”
“And no candy!” you interjected pointedly, giving Soonyoung a mock glare.
He raised his hands in mock surrender, a playful smirk on his face. “No candy, no donuts—scout’s honor. But, uh, maybe just one marshmallow from the barbecue…?”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling at his antics.
As the evening wound down, the house quieted with only the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the settling walls. You had just finished tucking the boys into bed, each of them fast asleep after the day’s adventures. Soonyoung lingered by the doorway of their room, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of their tiny chests as they dreamed.
“They’re finally out,” you whispered with a small smile, stepping away and closing the door gently behind you.
Soonyoung turned to you, his expression soft in the dim light of the hallway. “You’re amazing, you know that?” he said, slipping his arm around your shoulders as you walked back to the living room together.
You leaned into him, letting out a quiet sigh. “I just wish I could be there this weekend. I hate missing out on moments like these.”
He stopped you in your tracks, turning you to face him. His hands rested lightly on your waist as his thumbs traced soothing circles through the fabric of your shirt. “Don’t feel bad, okay?” His voice was warm and gentle, and the way he looked at you made it impossible to doubt his sincerity. “You’re doing your best. You always do. I’ll make sure the boys have a great time, and we’ll send you lots of pictures. You won’t miss a thing.”
The guilt weighing on you began to ease as his words settled in. “Thank you,” you murmured, resting your forehead against his chest.
Soonyoung wrapped both arms around you now, holding you close. For a moment, you stood there, cocooned in the quiet intimacy of the moment. “You know,” he said, his tone shifting slightly, a playful edge sneaking into his voice, “with the boys asleep and the house so quiet… we have a rare opportunity here.”
You tilted your head back to look at him, one eyebrow raised. “An opportunity for what?”
He grinned, his gaze dipping just slightly as his hands slid down to rest on your hips. “To remind you how much I love you,” he said, his voice lower now, the warmth of his breath brushing against your cheek.
A soft laugh escaped you, but your heart raced at the way he was looking at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. “Oh, really? And how do you plan to do that?” you teased, your hands resting on his chest.
He leaned closer, his lips brushing against the corner of your mouth as he whispered, “I have a few ideas.”
Before you could respond, he captured your lips in a slow, deliberate kiss, his touch grounding and electrifying all at once. The worries of the day melted away as you lost yourself in the moment, his presence overwhelming in the best way.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and his grin was unapologetically mischievous. “Feel better now?”
You chuckled softly, your cheeks warm as you nodded. “Much better.”
“Good,” he said, stealing one last quick kiss before stepping back and taking your hand. “Now, how about I make us some tea, and we see where this rare quiet evening takes us?”
You followed him, a smile tugging at your lips as you realized, once again, just how lucky you were to have someone like Soonyoung.
*
Soonyoung climbed into his car, exhaling deeply as if he’d already run a marathon, even though it was barely morning. Behind him, the boys were buckled into their car seats, brimming with energy and excitement. Their chatter filled the car, contrasting sharply with Soonyoung’s tired demeanor. The morning had been chaotic, to say the least.
Your work agenda had started earlier than theirs, leaving Soonyoung to manage the boys’ bubbling enthusiasm alone. Thankfully, you’d packed their bags the night before, neatly organizing everything they’d need for the outing. At least that spared Soonyoung from the added panic of forgetting something crucial amidst the chaos.
“Gitae, grandmother wants to see you in this shirt. Let’s put it on,” Soonyoung had pleaded earlier, holding up a neatly folded shirt. But his youngest had been too engrossed in his impromptu performance of Maestro, twirling dramatically in the living room.
“Yootae! Are you ready?” Soonyoung had called out to his eldest, only to freeze in disbelief when he entered the room. Yootae, still wrapped in a towel, was sitting cross-legged on the bed, a bottle of lotion beside him untouched.
“Did you put on lotion yet?” Soonyoung asked, stepping closer.
Yootae immediately pumped the bottle, rubbing lotion onto his arms with exaggerated slowness, his wide eyes locked on his dad as if performing under pressure.
Soonyoung sighed, ruffling his hair in frustration. “Alright, let’s just have a light breakfast, shall we?”
At the breakfast table, a simple bowl of cereal finally bought Soonyoung a few moments of peace. The boys sat quietly for once, munching away. It was enough time for him to catch his breath, gather his thoughts, and—most importantly—get himself ready.
As they settled in the car, Gitae wriggled with excitement. “I’m going to beat Leena in tag!” he declared confidently.
Yootae smirked, ever the realist. “Leena is faster than you, Gitae. And she has longer legs.”
“My legs got longer after dancing to Maestro. Right, Dad?” Gitae grinned, looking to Soonyoung for validation.
Soonyoung chuckled, shaking his head. “Sure, buddy. Whatever helps you win.”
When they arrived at his parents’ house, the boys jumped out of the car with boundless energy, running straight into their grandfather’s open arms. Soonyoung carried the bags inside, his tired smile widening at the warmth of his father’s greeting.
“Y/n couldn’t make it?” his mother asked, noticing her absence.
“No,” Soonyoung replied, setting the bags down on the couch. “Her schedule pulled her out earlier than expected today.”
His mother chuckled knowingly. “You got them ready all by yourself, didn’t you?”
Soonyoung nodded, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Good job, my son.” She patted his head affectionately before heading to the kitchen.
Not long after, his sister arrived with her husband and their daughters. The cousins immediately broke off into their groups—Soonyoung’s sons sprinting around the yard with their grandfather while his nieces calmly arranged their dolls on a picnic blanket.
Soonyoung settled on a bench beside his father, watching the kids. His mother and sister prepared the meat for the barbecue nearby, their laughter carrying on the breeze.
“Gitae looks so much like Y/n,” his father commented, nodding toward the younger boy.
“Everyone says that,” Soonyoung replied, smiling as he watched Gitae run across the yard.
“But he’s got your energy,” his father added with a laugh, shaking his head in amusement.
“I’m going to look like you when I get older,” Soonyoung teased, nudging his father.
His mother overheard and quickly interjected, “Don’t. Don’t be. Don’t embarrass your wife.”
Soonyoung burst out laughing, shaking his head as he helped his sister arrange plates and utensils. Despite their rocky relationship growing up, he’d found a sense of camaraderie with her since starting a family of his own.
“What’s it like having daughters, noona?” he asked, glancing at her girls, who were still engrossed in their dolls.
“I don’t get tired much,” she admitted, pointing out the difference. “Look at them—calm and quiet. Meanwhile, your sons…”
Soonyoung followed her gaze to Yootae and Gitae, who were racing around with their grandfather, Gitae screaming gleefully while Yootae laughed. He sighed, shaking his head.
“Getting them ready this morning was my biggest achievement,” he confessed. “It’s usually Y/n who handles that.”
His sister laughed, “They didn’t listen to you, did they?”
“Not even once! I told Yootae to put on lotion and underwear while I bathed Gitae, but when I checked, he was still sitting there with the lotion bottle.” Soonyoung rubbed his face in exasperation.
Their conversation was interrupted by a piercing cry. Gitae was on the ground, clutching his knee and wailing.
Soonyoung sighed deeply, already on his feet. “That’s alright, we’ve got you,” he said softly as he crouched beside his son, examining the scraped knee.
“It hurts!” Gitae sobbed, pointing to the bruise.
“I know, buddy,” Soonyoung said, scooping him up in his arms. “Let’s get you cleaned up. You’re my strong little guy, right?”
Gitae sniffled, nodding slightly.
The day pressed on, and the chaos only seemed to grow. After cleaning Gitae’s scraped knee and soothing his tears with a superhero bandage, Soonyoung barely had time to take a sip of water before Yootae tripped over the garden hose, landing in the dirt. Another round of comforting, brushing off dirt, and reminding him to be careful followed.
Meanwhile, Gitae had already managed to get himself into another predicament, climbing the low branches of the cherry blossom tree despite Soonyoung’s repeated warnings. By the time Soonyoung pulled him down safely, the boys’ shirts were dirt-streaked, their hair sticking up in wild tufts.
“I told you both to stay out of trouble!” Soonyoung exclaimed, his voice tinged with exasperation as he wiped sweat from his brow.
“But, Dad, we were just playing!” Yootae defended, wide-eyed as if the entire mess was beyond his control.
“Yeah, and I’m Spider-Man!” Gitae added enthusiastically, flexing his little arms as though they could shoot webs.
Soonyoung slumped onto the patio bench, exhausted, as he watched the boys dart off again, their energy seemingly endless. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a groan. His mother, who had been quietly observing from the grill, walked over with a knowing smile and set a cup of iced tea in front of him.
“You’re just like them, you know,” she said, sitting beside him.
Soonyoung looked up, surprised. “What? Me?”
His mother nodded, chuckling softly. “When you were their age, you were exactly the same—always running around, climbing trees, getting into every kind of trouble imaginable. I couldn’t take my eyes off you for a second.”
Soonyoung laughed weakly, leaning back against the bench. “That sounds about right.”
“You’d get scrapes on your knees every other day, and you never stopped moving,” she continued, her eyes twinkling with nostalgia. “Your father was just as tired as you are now, and I’d always say, ‘One day, you’ll understand.’ Well, here you are.”
He sighed, shaking his head as he watched Yootae and Gitae chase their cousins across the yard. “I don’t know how you did it, Mom. This is exhausting. I miss Y/n so much right now.”
His mother gave him a warm smile, patting his knee. “Of course you do. It’s always easier when you have someone by your side. But you’re doing great, Soonyoung. You got the boys here in one piece, and they’re happy. That’s what matters.”
Soonyoung smiled faintly, grateful for her reassurance, but the ache of missing you lingered. He thought about how you always handled the chaos with such grace, calming the boys with a single look or turning their tantrums into laughter. You’d have known exactly how to manage Gitae’s climbing spree or Yootae’s dirt-covered mishap.
His mother’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, dear. You’re learning, just like we did. And for what it’s worth, you’re a better dad than your father and I ever were at your age.”
Soonyoung chuckled, shaking his head. “I doubt that, Mom. But thanks.”
As he glanced at his boys again, he couldn’t help but smile. They were a handful, yes, but they were also a reflection of you and him—a mix of mischief, love, and boundless energy.
His mother stood, placing her hands on her hips as she looked out at the yard. “Now, go check on your boys before they turn that garden into a battlefield.”
Soonyoung groaned, standing up with a stretch. “Back to the front lines, huh?”
His mother laughed. “Parenting never stops, Soonyoung. But don’t forget to call Y/n later. She’d love to hear about how you survived the day.”
He grinned, already planning to call you the moment he could steal a quiet moment. He needed to hear your voice, to tell you just how much he appreciated you and missed having you by his side. For now, though, he had two little whirlwinds to manage.
*
“Hi, beautiful,” Soonyoung greeted you with a warm smile as you walked through the door. His voice was soft, and you noticed he was already in his pajamas—a pair of satin ones you hadn’t seen him wear in ages. They were expensive, gifted by you on your anniversary, and seeing him in them now made you suppress a laugh.
“You finally decided to wear those?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.
He smirked, running a hand through his slightly messy hair. “Figured tonight was special.”
You stepped inside, slipping off your shoes, and immediately noticed something unusual. The house was too quiet—eerily quiet. “Where are the boys? I don’t hear them.,” you said, glancing around as though they might pop out from behind the couch.
Soonyoung raised his eyebrows, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “Well… I intentionally—unintentionally left them at my mom’s. They wanted to have a sleepover, and since tomorrow’s Sunday, I figured why not?”
Your mouth dropped open in shock, and then a burst of laughter escaped you. “What? You left them with your mom? Oh my gosh, baby!”
He laughed along with you, closing the door behind you and grabbing your things. “Hey, they practically begged me. I video-called them earlier, and they seemed fine. Besides, they wanted to stay with their cousins. It’s good for them!”
You plopped down on the couch, still laughing, and Soonyoung joined you, setting your things on the coffee table. “Your poor mom,” you muttered, shaking your head. “She’s going to have a tough time wrangling five grandchildren tonight.”
“I know!” Soonyoung said, his voice full of mock guilt. “I even told her that, but she insisted it’d be fine. She’s a saint, honestly.”
You leaned back into the cushions, letting out a contented sigh. “It feels so strange to have the house to ourselves. Weird, but also… kind of nice.”
Soonyoung looked at you with a grin, his hand brushing against yours. “Right? I felt the same way before you got back. It’s like we’re dating again, just the two of us. But then I also started feeling guilty, like I was abandoning my kids or something.”
You laughed at his dramatic tone, turning to face him. “I feel relieved, but at the same time, it’s like, am I a bad mom for enjoying this?”
Soonyoung chuckled, pulling you into his arms. “If you are, then so am I. Today was rough, baby. The boys were a handful. I even performed a bow to my mom—the deep New Year’s bow we always do—just to thank her for taking care of me.”
Your eyes widened in surprise. “No way. You didn’t.”
“I did,” Soonyoung said with a straight face, though his lips twitched with amusement. “I was that desperate. Honestly, I might perform one for you after this because I owe you for doing this every day.”
You laughed so hard your sides hurt, leaning into his chest. “You’re unbelievable. So, what was harder—getting them ready this morning or keeping them out of trouble all day?”
“Both!” he exclaimed dramatically, resting his chin on top of your head. “Yootae wouldn’t put on lotion, and Gitae was running around shirtless, singing ‘Maestro.’ I thought I was going to lose my mind.”
You tilted your head up to look at him, still smiling. “Well, you survived. And honestly, I’m proud of you, Love. I really am.”
He looked at you with such softness that it made your heart flutter. “Thanks, baby. But I think I’ll stick to choreography and leave the morning routines to you.”
You laughed again, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Deal. But tonight, you’re all mine. No interruptions, no kids.”
He leaned down, brushing his lips against your forehead. “I like the sound of that.”
Soonyoung's arms tightened around you, a playful glint in his eyes as he tilted his head to meet your gaze. “You know,” he began, his voice dripping with mischief, “after today, I’ve been thinking…”
You raised an eyebrow, already bracing for whatever ridiculous thought was about to leave his mouth.
He smirked, his tone mock-serious. “Maybe we should try for a daughter. I heard they’re way less frantic to raise. Calm, quiet, reasonable—can you imagine that?”
You let out an incredulous laugh, lightly smacking his chest. “Oh, so now you’re an expert on parenting daughters because your sister’s kids play with dolls instead of climbing furniture?”
“Exactly,” he replied without missing a beat. “I mean, just think about it. No running around, no wrestling matches over who gets the last donut, no dramatic performances of ‘Hit’ at 8 a.m.”
You rolled your eyes, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. “Uh-huh. And who’s going to handle the teenage drama when your calm, quiet daughter slams her door in your face?”
Soonyoung’s grin faltered for a second before he recovered with a sly smile. “That’s where you come in, baby. You’re the expert in dealing with drama. I’ll just be the cool dad who lets her eat donuts and—”
“Stop right there.” You cut him off, laughing as you poked his chest.
He laughed along with you, leaning down until his nose brushed against yours. “Okay, okay. But admit it—you’d love to see a mini-you running around here. With your big, beautiful eyes, your sharp wit…”
“And my temper when you don’t listen?” you teased, narrowing your eyes playfully.
“Exactly,” he said, grinning. “She’d keep me in line, just like you do.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at him. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Maybe,” he murmured, his lips brushing softly against yours. “But you love me anyway.”
You sighed dramatically, pretending to think about it. “I guess I do. But if we’re trying for a daughter, you’re taking the night shift for the first three years.”
“Deal,” Soonyoung whispered, sealing the agreement with a kiss. “Now, where should we start our daughter project?”
Your laughter echoed through the house, blending perfectly with the warmth of his embrace, the quiet night ahead promising nothing but love and playful chaos—just the way you liked it.
#seventeen fanfic#seventeen imagines#seventeen angst#densworld🌼#seventeen scenarios#seventeen series#seventeen drabbles#seventeen fanfiction#seventeen imagine#seventeen oneshot#seventeen fic#seventeen hoshi#seventeen soonyoung#hoshi oneshot#hoshi imagines#hoshi imagine#hoshi fic#hoshi fluff#hoshi smut#hoshi drabbles#hoshi dad au#kwon soonyoung#soonyoung x reader#soonyoung imagines#soonyoung smut#soonyoung fluff
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Heart Stealer | w.hj
summary: a little angel visits her father at his workplace.
pairing: husband!father!ha-joon x wife!mother!reader
genre/tags: fluff, established relationship, married couple, the cast of squid game being a family
wc: 1.2k+ words
a/n: it's been so so so long since i last wrote a one shot and i missed these. so i did one of my beloved hajoon hehe. i'm also planning to do more of my fav k-actors and dramas/shows so stay tuned! enjoy reading my luvs
Squid Game is a worldwide phenomenon, and one of the most appealing features is the set designs. You are a passionate set designer. You illustrate your imagination and make it come to life for Squid Game and other popular Korean movies and dramas.
Aside from your entertainment career, you are a mother and wife to one beautiful baby girl and the magnificent actor, Wi Ha-joon. Your love story with him is like something out of a K-drama.
The couple met during the first season of Squid Game and somehow Ha-joon found interest in a lovely woman who taught him how to draw the masks of the Pink Guards. Then, he asked her if she was available after filming. Like that, a spark ignited between the actor and the set designer.
Ha-joon saw that you were the one for him, the starlight who showed him the brightest and happiest pathway in life. So, he proposed a hand in marriage. You straightaway agreed to be his wife and unexpectedly become the mother of his children.
Wi Hwa-young is the cutest and sweetest baby angel.
She immediately received so much love from Ha-joon’s fans and celebrity friends. She has her mother’s pretty eyes and lips while she has her father’s cute ears and elegant face shape and nose. She might become the next beauty queen in Asia and other places.
Hwa-young is also super talkative or babbles nonsense because she loves people’s attention and they just laugh and smile at her. Of course, like most daughters, she is a daddy’s girl. Hwa-young would get excited whenever you say, “Appa” or Ha-joon’s name.
A week before continuing to film Squid Game 2, you told her about taking her to work and Ha-joon will be there. Hwa-young happily bounced in her height chair and squealed. You couldn’t resist squishing her mochi-like cheeks and hugging her tiny body because she was too adorable. It warms your heart that she loves Ha-joon so much. He once doubted himself about not being the perfect father and it’s common for most upcoming dads to get nervous, but for him it’s different.
Ha-joon is an actor with so much fame and will likely be out and less at home. Like the best wife that you are, you assured him that he wouldn’t be the worst father in the world because he truly cares about you and Hwa-young. Ha-joon cried when you comforted him. It also made you love him more whenever he expressed his vulnerability.
Now in the present time, the family will continue to grow happy and healthy.
“Wow! You look like a princess!”
Hwa-young is sitting on the bed as you dress her up. It’s spring so you have her dressed in a pink floral dress with short sleeves, frilly socks, and strapped shoes. You even added a bow clip with a glittery heart in the middle on her ebony hair. “Are you excited to see appa?” You asked and earned a joyful giggle. You etched a smile. “He is excited too. How about Jung-jae samchon, Byung-hun samchon, and everyone else?” You say the names of the famous actors and Hwa-young continues to giggle out loud.
Once finishing her outfit, you take your child, purse, and baby bag, ready to leave the apartment. It’s very spacious with a gorgeous view of the city and perfect for a family of three. You enter your car to buckle up Hwa-young in her seat. She is seven months old and is close to the stage where she can walk. She has been crawling and it amazes her parents how fast she moves. Maybe one day she’ll become athletic like Ha-joon.
You shut the driver’s door and start up the vehicle. “Ready baby?” You reached your hand behind your seat to touch Hwa-young’s small hand. She shakes yours as a response. You chuckle, “Okay. Let’s go!” You begin exiting the parking lot and making your way to the studio. It’ll be another long filming day, but Hwa-young will brighten the mood as you work.
The thirty-minute drive was smooth, considering it was the weekend and usually gets hectic. You arrived at the place and parked the car. “We’re here, baby.” You tell your daughter, who babbles so cutely. You then gathered yourself to help Hwa-young out of her seat and take your belongings. A mother is always carrying a lot of stuff so it’s typical.
You have your ID badge around your neck for access management and a sense of identity. All of your colleagues wear them because working in the film industry is like working in an ordinary job but with celebrities. People must know your name to communicate and cooperate with you. And it’s to show you are working for the production team.
As soon as you walk in, the staff members greet you and Hwa-young, more like going frantic when they see her. She does the same by flailing her arms with a big smile.
After saying hello to the staff members, you go to your office. While going through the hallways in a big studio, you see the cast members are together in a room, rehearsing their lines.
Ha-nuel is the first person to see you and Hwayoung. “Y/N! Princess! Hello!” A large smile plays on his handsome face. In unison, the men and women are ecstatic to see you both.
Jung-jae reaches out his arms. “Come to samchon!” He beams at the sight of the baby. You handed Hwa-young to the star of the show. She instantly got comfortable in his arms. “You’re so big now,” Jung-jae commented and kissed her on the forehead. Byung-hun is next to him and he gently pokes her soft chubby cheek. “You look so pretty today. Are you a real angel?” He asked and his index finger got held by Hwa-young’s little hands.
You and the actors and actresses laughed merrily at the precious interaction. One by one, they all take turns holding Hwa-young because she is their mood booster and is clearly enjoying it. Your baby should be called, ”Little Miss Popular.”
Si-wan was the last person to hold her and she squished his cheeks, hard. “Hwa-young-ah! Samchon loves you too!” He cried out through the pain yet allowed her to do whatever she wanted. Yuri takes out her phone to snap a picture. “Aww so cute!” She gushed at the moment and everyone did the same thing—taking videos and pictures of Si-wan getting attacked by Hwa-young.
Ae-sim says, “For such a tiny being she is strong.” The oldest of the cast is amazed by Hwa-young’s growth. You nodded, “Ha-joon’s child through and through.” You and the people can see the resemblance.
Then, the man of the hour walks into the room. He is wearing all black, fluffy dark hair down, and the slight stubble on his upper lip is showing. Ha-joon’s appearance looks mysterious and cold but he quickly smiles when he spots the love of his life and princess.
“Wow, this room is cheery.” Ha-joon comments on the upbeat atmosphere. You tell him, “Well your daughter has the effect.” You watch Hwa-young pulling on Si-wan’s hair.
Ha-joon snickered and helped his friend out. “You little mischief. Are you stealing people’s hearts?” He gingerly takes his daughter into his arms and nuzzles his nose against her nose. She squeals at the ticklish touch.
Seo-hwan speaks out of the blue, “Just like her father.” His comment has the cast and you laughing, jovially. Ha-joon blushed and Hwa-young looked clueless. Dong-uk cleared his throat from laughing too much. “She will become a heart stealer when she grows older.” He stated, which has the father chuckling nervously.
“I hope not,” Ha-joon replied in a playful yet stern voice. You sighed and rolled your eyes because you expected him to be overprotective.
#wi ha joon#wi ha jun#ha joon#ha jun#wi ha joon x reader#wi ha jun x reader#wi ha joon x you#wi ha jun x you#wi ha joon x y/n#wi ha jun x y/n#wi ha joon writing#wi ha joon imagine#wi ha joon fluff
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blended
joel miller x reader
summary: y/n and Joel, best friends for years, fall in love but keep their relationship a secret from their kids. Until…
joel miller masterlist
Joel Miller and I had been neighbors for as long as either of us could remember. Our backyards were separated by a tall wooden fence, but that was more of a formality than anything. In reality, our houses were an extension of each other, and over the years, the boundaries between our lives had blurred. We were both single parents—Joel raising his spirited daughter, Sarah, and me looking after my young son, Dean. Life hadn’t been easy for either of us.
Joel’s wife had left when Sarah was just a baby, leaving him with a little girl to raise on his own. Me, on the other hand, had found myself a single mother after an unexpected divorce. Both of us had been thrust into the daunting world of parenting without the safety net of a partner, but somehow, we made it work.
Our bond started small, over shared cups of coffee on early mornings when both kids were at school or daycare. We’d watch each other struggle with the chaos of work and parenting, the endless juggling act, and laugh about how nothing was ever as easy as it seemed in the movies. Over time, we became more than just neighbors; we became best friends.
Joel would pick up Dean from soccer practice when I had to work late, and I would help Sarah with school projects when Joel was caught in work. There was a kind of quiet understanding between us, a bond that didn’t need words. We helped each other out without asking, our friendship built on mutual respect and the recognition that, in this crazy world of single parenthood, we were in it together.
It wasn’t just the practical stuff that kept us close. It was the late-night talks, the way we’d vent about the frustrations of being a single parent and life. Joel would talk about how hard it was to balance everything and still try to be the dad Sarah needed, and I would nod along, sharing how sometimes, I just needed a moment to breathe.
But lately, things had started to feel different. There was an underlying tension between us that neither had quite acknowledged. Maybe it was the way I laughed at Joel’s jokes a little too long, or how Joel caught himself lingering in the kitchen when I was making dinner, offering to chop vegetables for me when he didn’t really need to. It was subtle at first—a lingering look, a hand brushing against the other’s arm—but neither of us could deny it.
One evening, after our kids had gone to bed, Joel found himself sitting on my porch with a beer in hand, the air cool and quiet around us. Sarah had spent the night at a friend’s house, and Noah had fallen asleep on the couch watching cartoons. It was one of those rare, peaceful moments when the house was still, and the noise of parenthood seemed far away.
I sat beside him, my legs stretched out in front of me as I looked up at the stars. “You ever think about dating again?” I asked casually, my voice low, as if I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer.
Joel glanced over at me, surprised. He had thought about it, of course, but it felt like a distant idea. “I don’t know… I mean, it’s hard. Sarah’s still so young, and I don’t know how to balance that with someone else. You?”
I smiled softly, the kind of smile that made my eyes crinkle at the corners. “Same. But sometimes… I don’t know. Sometimes I think maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, you know?”
He nodded, feeling the weight of the conversation settle between us. For a moment, neither of us spoke, the silence comfortable but charged.
Then, almost without thinking, Joel leaned in, closing the space between us. He hadn’t meant for it to happen—it just did. But when our lips met, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. His hand found its way to my cheek, and I leaned into him, the kiss deepening, soft but full of meaning.
For a long moment, there was only the quiet sound of our breathing and the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze. It was like the world outside had disappeared, leaving just the two of us—two people who had been through so much and had somehow found a way to comfort each other.
Me and Joel had been seeing each other for a few months, our relationship blossoming quietly under the radar.
But me and Joel had decided early on to keep things under wraps. Our kids, Dean and Sarah, were at that precarious age where any major shift in our lives could feel monumental. Dean, my 8-year-old son, had a sharp eye and a habit of piecing together puzzles he wasn’t meant to. Sarah, Joel’s 7-year-old daughter, was a little more reserved, but she had a knack for overhearing conversations at precisely the wrong moments. We weren’t ready for questions, pushback, or the inevitable emotional fallout—not yet.
So, we snuck around.
On Wednesday evenings, when Sarah and Dean were at soccer practice, me and Joel would meet for dinner at an out-of-the-way restaurant. We’d laugh over shared stories of parenting mishaps and steal kisses in the parking lot, always mindful of the time. Weekends required even more creativity. Sometimes, Joel would claim he needed to “work late” while I pretended I was out for a “girls’ night,” and we’d catch a movie or go for a drive. Our favorite escape was a small café on the edge of town that neither of our kids would ever frequent.
The sneaking added a layer of excitement, but it also made things complicated. The guilt of hiding weighed on us both, but it also pushed us to make sure this was something real before introducing it to our kids.
“We can’t keep this up forever,” I said one evening as we sat in Joel’s car, parked on a quiet street after dinner.
“I know,” Joel replied, reaching for my hand. “But I just… I want to be sure. I want them to see how much this means to me before we bring them into it.”
I nodded, my heart warm but conflicted. We both knew the risk. If Dean or Sarah found out before we were ready, the fallout could be messy. But for now, we were content to live in our little secret bubble, savoring stolen moments and the thrill of something new.
We promised each other that when the time was right—when we were both certain this relationship had a future—we’d tell our kids together. Until then, we’d keep sneaking around, juggling the demands of our lives while holding onto this spark that made all the secrecy feel worth it.
Me and Joel stood in the kitchen, the soft hum of the refrigerator the only sound in the quiet house. Joel had just finished fixing the leaky faucet and was leaning against the counter, his warm gaze locked on me.
“You know,” he said with a small, teasing smile, “this house really keeps me busy. I might have to start charging you for all the repairs.”
I laughed softly, my cheeks tinged pink. “Oh, please. You love it here.”
“I do,” Joel murmured, his voice turning softer. Then, without thinking, he leaned in and kissed me. It was tender, unhurried—a moment just for us.
Or so we thought.
“Mom?! Dad?!”
We pulled apart abruptly to see Dean and Sarah standing in the doorway, our eyes wide. Dean looked utterly baffled, while Sarah wore an expression that practically screamed, Finally.
“What are you doing?” Dean asked, his voice rising in confusion.
I froze, a guilty smile tugging at my lips. “Uh… well…”
“They were kissing, Dean,” Sarah said, rolling her eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Dean blinked, looking between us. “Wait. Why?!”
Joel cleared his throat, stepping forward. “Alright, let’s all sit down and talk, okay?”
The kids followed us into the living room, where me and Joel sat on the couch, with Dean and Sarah plopping down across from us.
I took a deep breath. “Okay, so here’s the thing. Joel and I have been spending a lot of time together, as you know. And we’ve realized that we care about each other in a different way than just being friends.”
Dean tilted his head. “Like… boyfriend and girlfriend?”
Joel nodded. “Exactly. But we didn’t want to say anything until we were sure, because you two are the most important people to us, and we wanted to make sure this wouldn’t upset you.”
Dean stared at us for a moment, then asked, “So… is Joel and Sarah gonna live here now?”
I chuckled softly. “No, not right now. Joel and Sarah will still live next door. We’re just taking things one step at a time.”
Sarah, who had been unusually quiet, finally grinned. “I knew it. You guys were so obvious.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Obvious?”
Sarah nodded. “Yeah. My dad’s over here all the time, you’re always laughing at his dumb jokes, and you look at each other like those people in the movies. I told Dean this was going to happen.”
Dean looked Sarah, frowning. “Wait, you knew? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you wouldn’t get it,” Sarah said with a dramatic sigh.
Dean looked back at Joel and I, squinting. “So… does this mean Joel can take us to the arcade more? ‘Cause that’d be cool.”
Joel laughed, relieved. “Sure, buddy. I’d be happy to take you guys to the arcade.”
Sarah smirked. “And you owe us ice cream for keeping this a secret.”
Joel grinned. “Deal.”
I smiled at the kids, my heart swelling with relief. “So… you guys are okay with this?”
Sarah shrugged. “Yeah. I mean, it’s kind of weird, but it’s also cool. We’re basically a family anyway.”
Dean nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, it’s like we already knew, kinda.”
I reached out, pulling them both into a hug. “You two are amazing. Thank you for being so understanding.”
As the kids scampered off, Sarah turned back at the doorway. “Just no more kissing in front of us, okay? It’s gross.”
Joel chuckled. “Deal.”
When we were alone, Joel looked at me and smiled. “That went a lot better than I thought it would.”
I leaned into him, resting my head on his shoulder. “It did. They’re happy, and so am I.”
Joel kissed my temple, his voice low and warm. “Then I’d say we’re off to a pretty great start.”
#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller imagines#joel miller one shot#joel miller imagine#joel miller fic#joel miller x reader#joel tlou#joel x reader#joel miller fluff#joel the last of us#joel miller#joel miller x y/n#joel miller angst#joel miller x you#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal imagines#pedro pascal imagine#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro x reader#pedrohub
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Yandere Batfam x Neglected Reader x Yandere Al Ghuls
Pt 1.
Next
*Author's note: this was not beta and was written at midnight.
Two years. That's how long you had been struggling to survive in hell. The experiments had been brutal in every way imaginable. In the end they had gotten their goal: a meta human capable of healing any illness or wound, with an extended life span.
However you had come out of it too defiant. Some part of you had clung to the child's hope you're family would swoop in and save you. Sure they were often busy and didn't have time for you, but they had still cared right? There was no way they hadn't noticed you were missing for two years. No they had to be on the case, maybe just waiting for that last clue. A clue you would give them by escaping your captors and spitting in the scientist's face as your family torn their facilities apart. Beside, you were capable of escaping by yourself so who cared that they didn't show up.
The security system at the front gates still recongized your fingerprint and retinas. Walking up the pathway, you admired the gardener's work. It looked so different from when you were last here. There was a bubbling in your stomach. Imagines flash in you mind of your brothers being so happy to see you.
Dick with his wide smile, wrapping you in his arms. He would check for injuries and you two would finally have that movie night he promised two years ago. Jason would demand answers and swear to make whoever hurt you pay. You knew he would do it to, all so you could sleep easy knowing they couldn’t hurt you anymore. Tim would listen before getting to work. He would ensure everyone connected to the experiments would be destroyed. Hunt down their suppliers and financial providers. They would protect and help you move past the experiments.
After them were your sisters. Babs, Cass, and Steph would let you in to girls night this time. You would get to watch those cringy 'reality' TV shows, take part in the fashion show, and play around the whole night. Than in the morning Babs would help the boys take out the experiments. Cass and Steph would be right there with them of course before teaching you how to defend yourself.
Alfred would also help you. He would tutor you and help you catch up on school you missed. Not running off to help the others. Just you too bonding. Maybe he would even read the Wizard of Oz to you. Just he promised when you were five.
Lastly, your father Bruce Wayne. He would finally pay attention to you. Postpone his business meetings, decline the galas, take a night off from patrol as Batman because his baby girl was home. The last remaining shred of your mother and his lover. You would be important enough for him.
You blinked as your hand touch cold metal. The front door. Right you must have gotten lost in thoughts again. You could feel every hope you tucked into the hidden part of you heart over the past two years creep out of the shadows. They started to clean the cobwebs out of and prepare the space for warmth.
The door creaked up to a dreary entrance hall. You couldn't put your finger on what made the space feel dark. Sunlight still pour through the grand windows. There wasn't a speck of dust anywhere to be seen. Yet there was a weight in the air that made the room feel empty and wrong. It looked and felt as if you had never left.
You began to wonder the halls in search of anyone. The quiet pressed down on your shoulders and feet. You never had thought you would miss the continuous buzz of medical equipment you couldn't name. Yet that seem better the suffocating silence that was clawing at you. You heard a faint noise from the living room.
Sitting in the living room was Tim, Steph, and Jason. Tim was texting on his phone, Jason was reading, and Steph was eating popcorn as she watched a show. It was normal.
Completely normal.
It was as if you hadn't disappeared for two years. Steph turned to look at you, a fistful of popcorn suspended mid-air, "Hey. How you doing?"
"I'm..." Your throat felt like gum. Her reaction was disappointing? Confusing? You couldn't think of the right word, "fine."
"That’s good." She turned back to the TV. Conversation over. Tim and Jason didn't even look up from what they were doing. You shuffled to the next room in a daze.
The kitchen felt like it had also barely changed. There were some new appliances but they sat where the old ones had. Dick and Cass leaned against the center island enjoying steaming cups of something. Cass turned to nod at you and Dick smiled at brightly, "Hey (Name). It's been a minute, how you doing?"
Your head tilted to the side. Two years had to be more than 'a minute'. A weight began to push against the hopes in your heart. They slowed their cleaning, a few began to retreat back to the darkness. You blinked twice before answering, "Fine. Where... where's dad?"
"Oh I think B had a business trip this week. He'll be back Tuesday." Dick shrugged before someone walked into the kitchen. Someone new. He was taller than Cass and shorter than Dick but not by much. He was also young, you would bet a few years younger than Tim. Dick gave him an even brighter smile, "Hey Duke."
"Who's this?" You pointed at him and blinked. Was a friend of Tim's? Maybe Steph?
"Oh, you two weren't introduced. Duke this is-" Dick patted Duke on the shoulder gesturing to you.
"(Name)"
"Duke Thomas. Alfred didn't mention anyone else living in the manor." Duke gave you a friendly smile and held out his hand. You shook it but could feel your head spinning. This didn't make sense.
"Alfred didn't mention me?" The words felt blocky. It was like you were a computer shutting down. Not only was everyone acting normal, there was a new person and it seemed like they knew you were gone. "I'm sorry, I'm not feeling well. I... I'm gonna go... lie down."
"Oh, okay." Duke's face scrunched up. He looked as confused as you felt. You left the kitchen dazed, clinging to the hall as your feet stumbled to your bedroom.
Something wasn't right. Why was everyone acting like you had just gone on a trip? You were gone for two years. Ripped out of the garden and held captive for two years in horrifying conditions. Submitted to endless hours of shocks, shots, burns, and twisted wires to a point it all blend into a red flim in your memory. All that before finally escaping just to have everyone act like you had been on vacation.
Your thoughts were interrupted with a sudden harsh shove. A hand gripped your shoulder tightly creating temporary bruises on your skin. Ringing took over the cacophonous noise in your head. As you looked at your attacker you saw a boy. He wasn't that much taller or older than you. His mouth moved and you barely registered his words, "Who are you? How did you get into the manor?"
Something froze. This boy looked like a copy of your dad. There was a feeling of having all the puzzle pieces but no way to connect them. The bigger picture so blurred you couldn't tell what was supposed to go where. A voice broken the silence, "Master Damian! Unhand her this insistence."
Alfred. Surely he knew what was going on. He could tell you why everyone was acting like you were on vacation instead of kidnapped, or who this new boy was and why he looked like your dad.
The boy looked to Alfred but his hand didn't leave your shoulder, "Who is she and how did she bypass the manor's security?"
"She is your half sister." Alfred marched towards you. Taking Damian's hands from you, he placed himself in between you two. "She has been away at a boarding school for the past two years."
The pieces clicked with a deafening pop. Boarding school. It made sense now why everyone was so causal. You weren't kidnapped in their eyes, you had simply been sent away. Your coming back was expected on some level.
Another realization hit shortly after that. Boarding schools ment tuition payments that were expected to be paid by 'loving parents' who knew where there children were. Boarding school explained when a kid was missing from a wealthy for a period of time to those who would care to ask. A boarding school was the perfect cover for experiments in a highly secured facility.
Surely your dad wouldn't do that, right? He's Batman, a protector of the city. Someone who was ment to be moral and a role model. More importantly, you were what remained of your mother. The last piece of her and your dad's picture book romance. The billionaire CEO that falls in love with his secretary. This had to be a misunderstanding or miscommunication.
Damian's voice cut through your thoughts, again. "How old are you?"
"What?" The question was mis-timed and absurd to be asked immediately after he attacked you.
"I must ensure I am still the eldest blood child and father's heir." He said it so matter of fact like. As if he already knew the answer but wanted to confirm it.
"Ten."
"Hmm. We are the same age." He glared at you through Alfred before lifting his chin, "Date of birth."
"You first." You hated this boy already. He was as self-righteous and arrogant as the scientists in that damn place. Defiance crackled in your veins at the thought. You would not answer anymore questions from him.
"Both of you, stop it. Miss (Name) was born on (DOB) the year after you. You are older but not by much. Master Damian was born on November 11th" Alfred said the words and there was another pop.
"I'm going to my room." You didn't care what was said after that. It was like a wildfire started in your heart. Consuming the oxygen in your lungs to breath was impossible. You could feel them dying. Your hopes, succumbing to the flames, burning away to ash. Some part of you tried to save them with hot tears. It was already too late.
Your room felt like a tomb tucked away in the attic. A thin layer of dust coated everything, telling you not even Alfred bothered to come up here. Good, you wanted to be alone.
The numbers ran in your head again. Than once more. They raced through your head, years, timelines, before finally settling. In order for you and Damian to be born by those dates, your father had to be cheating on your mother with his. That or Bruce had used your mother to get over Damian's. You stumbled towards your dusty bed and fished around underneath it. Pulling out your mother's diary you began to skim the pages.
Swirls flew past your fingers. Finally you they ran over her cursive letters. "Bruce mentioned a woman name Talia. He talked about her with a mix of longing and betrayal. I wonder what happened?" There it was. The crack in your mother's love story, Talia.
Maybe it had been a whirlwind romance for your mother. Her diary was proof of that but your father. No, you couldn't prove she was important to him and by proxy you. Maybe you were so unimportant, unwanted, he could hand you other to those scientists and tell everyone it was a boarding school. All you had to do was prove it and burn him down.
Talia would never admit that she check on Damian frequently. No if anyone asked she was ensuring he followed his training regime. That didn't stop the surprise however to see a girl his age approach the manor gates.
She carried herself with a purpose but lack all the tells of training. Yet that wasn't what held Talia's attention, it was her eyes. They held a cautious fire and moved like she expected it be put out at any moment. It caused Talia's sixth sense to kick in, the one that told her this girl had potential that just need to be refined.
She followed her into the manor. Sure the security system was a pain but she need more information on this girl. When Damian shoved the girl into the wall Talia became certain of two things. One Damian was upholding his training and two this girl did have potential.
She didn't flinch at the knife to her throat. Talia doubted it even registered as a small amount of blood came out. When the butler interfered, Talia almost missed it. The wound sealed shut and the blood evaporated to leave no trace of a wound. Yes, this girl had potential.
"(Name) Wayne. Hmm, I've always wanted a daughter."
Next
#yandere bruce wayne#yandere jason todd#yandere dick grayson#yandere tim drake#yandere damian wayne#yandere duke thomas#yandere cassandra cain#yandere barbara gordon#yandere stephanie brown#yandere batfam x neglected reader#yander talia al ghul#yandere ra's al ghul#yander al ghul family x neglected reader#villian reader#i wrote this at midnight#no beta we die like men#no beta we die like jason todd
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“would you like to supervise the process?” he offers with a smile, figuring she ought to have some sense of control over what’s happening to her most precious belonging. “also, i’ve been thinkin’… i’m sorry ‘bout what i said last night. ‘bout my ma’s scarf.” how he initially thought she must have stolen it and decided to take it away from her. “that was very wrong of me. it’s not like my ma will ever wear this scarf again or like just lookin’ at it, lyin’ there collectin’ dust, will bring her back or somethin’. maybe we could use the fabric to replace the missin’ ruffles on your dress? i think she’d like that.” it would give the dress a fresh look, some more color, and they would be reminded of both their mothers every time lucy gray put it on. of course, only if she allows it. “well, i don’t think there’s a covey as unique as ours out there. we win,” he laughs, dragging the twigs through her wet ringlets, fingers following. repeating the motion until there’s not a single tangle left. “horse playin’,” he echoes with a chuckle, basking in the sound of their happiness. suddenly, the little hut feels almost cozy, homey. filled with laughter and jokes, with a sense of togetherness. what else could anyone need? “no!” he’s quick to protest, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily just in case she decides to turn around and stand up, determined to protect her dignity and innocence. “i mean, no, thank you. an anatomy lesson won’t be necessary. not that i’ve ever seen a…” goodness gracious, what is he trying to confess? and why? what for? he scolds himself, cheeks burning, tongue tied with embarrassment. “i’m — it’s… oh! there’s other kinds of soap here!” he lays the makeshift brush on his lap and picks up the box that the previous owners must have left behind, occupying himself by taking out different bars of soap and sniffing them. “this one smells like lavender, and look, it’s such a pretty shade of purple, too.” he extends his hand, presenting the small, oval-shaped soap to the brunette. “how do you even make soap?” he wonders aloud, not the most subtle subject change but he prays it will do.
listening intently, billy finds himself nodding his head in agreement. the subject of coriolanus seems to be a sore one for the both of them, in their own way and for somewhat different reasons. “oh, that one,” manipulation, “he’s been great at always. guess that’s an inherited talent,” he muses with a chuckle, trying to make the conversation a bit more light-hearted even if it’s ultimately impossible. “i think you know him a lot better than i do, and so you’re most likely right. somethin’ must have switched at some point.” as a boy, he seemed very much capable of loving others. or so it seemed to billy. who really knows? “you don’t know who the third was? what’d he say when you asked ‘bout it?” he wonders, scooping up some more water to pour down lucy gray’s back and shoulders. the one sentence that haunts him being — coriolanus seemed as nice as you. well, was he faking it the whole time? or is it some generational curse? “i’ll never lie to you, lucy gray. never turn on you,” he swears and then is left wondering whether she’d heard the same exact words before, from the mouth identical to his. “i’d never try to kill no one i hated either. i don’t think most people have that in ‘em.” the ability to just take life. “if one of my loved ones was in danger and it was either the bad guy goes or the person i care for… that’s the only time i would pull the trigger.” he would stop at nothing to protect her because a part of him feels deeply responsible for her, because she’s brought so much joy and meaning to his life, but would he kill his own twin brother if it came to it? he doesn’t even want to think about having to make that choice.
“you’ll always be safe with me, lucy gray.” feeling her warm skin on his, slender fingers keeping his hand in place, billy’s heart expands so impossibly that it’s a wonder his chest doesn’t just burst open. his cheeks rosy. she nuzzles into his palm like an affection-starved cat and something inside him cracks, his own eyes filling with tears. it’s a monumental moment, gaining some of her trust, and he promises to never jeopardize it. he won’t ever betray her. before he can do something stupid like leaning in and bumping their noses together or kissing her forehead, he clears his throat and speaks up, “is the water still warm? want me to boil some more?” the pad of his thumb stroking her skin, ever so carefully and with all the affection he has.
"alright, i'll trust you with it." he's been so gentle with her hair, so she gives his forearm a pat and believes he'll do the same with her precious mama's dress. how kind of him too... to promise. "alright, mr. hair stylist." a little laugh dances out of her throat, doe eyes watching him get up and go over to the bed. "that's the best part about a covey... the more unique it is, the more special it is." lucy gray points out, sweetly smiling. "well, you ought to be careful there. don't go horse playin' around like that..." creating puns causing her to laugh as she watches him playfully stumble around with his eyes covered. "you're actin' like i showed somethin' already. if you need me to, i can just show you if you need schooled on female anatomy lessons." he clearly isn't the type to take her up on things like that, which is why she's saying it. just to provoke a shy look out of him again.
"no, believe me billy, you're entitled to your own opinion. i don't blame you for not agreein' with me at all. i don't even know if i agree with myself when there were moments coriolanus seemed as nice as you, i think he could have just been fakin' it the entire time. he's great at manipulation. but it sure is a mystery if all he was– was stuck up as a little one. then, all grown up he turned so cruel, selfish and dead on inside. maybe somethin' switched... between a father like that and the loss of your mother, somewhere between there. but it just hurts when someone betrays you. i felt he betrayed me when he lied to me about how many people i asked that he killed, two were valid. but the third... guess i'll never know. he betrayed me pretendin' he was coming along with me to live in the wilderness and the entire time, he was just lookin' out for himself. he betrayed me tryin' to kill me. it's the lord's work to take me outta the world, not him." angrily she spoke, and she truly feels sad for coriolanus and his soul. "he might not been born evil, but he was absolutely born with somethin' rotten. i'd never try to kill no one i hated– let alone cared for."
flinching in the slightest, but her hand comes up to keep his hand in place. she doesn’t want him to remove it. she wants to embrace a kind touch, feel it, as she turns hand over to feel his fingers against her skin. eyes watering, lower lip curving upwards, before affectionately nuzzling into his palm. it makes her deeply emotional. the kind touch, embracing she can’t always be scared of touch, the reassurance, the horrible conversation and ideas that someone she cared for would want to kill her. essentially, twice. because billy taupe nearly sent her to her grave getting involved with mayfair who sent her to the hunger games.
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chapter ten: as deep as my love goes
Sebastian Vettel x Fem!Reader
Warnings: confused feelings from seb, y/n and seb have it out, one swear word lol, Lilly bashing, seb is an idiot, baby sitter mick!, micheal mentions <333, a bit (a lot) of disagreement, wise words from mick and a surprise that I know all of you will love at the end.
Word Count: 2.3k
Author’s Note: for the millionth time in this series, I apologize for the absence I've taken from writing. it's been so hectic and I've had a lot of new developments in my life that's been keeping me away from writing. I will try my best to get the next chapter out to y'all in a timely manner. thank you for sticking with me! <3
sugar and spice; all things nice masterlist
--
It had been a hectic few days for Sebastian. between the end of the school year for the girls and Lilly's re-emergence, he had been in a head spin.
You were the string keeping him together, keeping him wrapped up with a neat little bow.
It was clear to see that Lilly's pop-in had Seb on edge, it didn't take a genius to figure that out but you weren't worried. Sebastian was 100 and 10% committed to you and only you. But call it woman's intuition, you had a bad feeling that there was more to it than Seb was letting on.
As you thought, Sebastian's feelings weren't in terms of commitment, he loves you more than he loved anything in his life - other than his daughter of course.
But did he do the right thing? Was it fair of him to decide for Milly if she could or couldn't have a relationship with her mother? Especially if said mother has come back looking for her.
It left him no choice but to confide in his girlfriend; the same girlfriend who beats him to the question.
"What's wrong?" Your voice was soft, your thumb brushing over his hand.
Seb's eyes move from whatever he was looking at, to you. It was date night and Mick was at Seb's place watching the girls. "What makes you think something is wrong, darling?"
You huffed a laugh, giving him a knowing head tilt. "I can see the wrinkles developing on your forehead. So spit it out. What is it?"
Sebastian lets out a sigh. He looks at you, completely deflated and your heart sinks. you have no idea what he was going to say but you knew it had something to do with Lilly, his sigh alone told you as much. Your thumb continued to rub over this hand, giving him some sort of reassurance that you were there for him, no matter what.
"Did I do the right thing?" He says quietly, his voice drowned by the noise in the restaurant.
Your brows furrowed as you looked at your boyfriend. "What do you mean? Right thing in terms of.. what?"
"Lilly," he sighs. "I feel like I'm taking Milly away from her mother."
"You're not taking her away from anyone, Sebastian. Lilly walked out of her life and didn't even look back for her. I understand walking out on a man, I'm not saying what she did to you was right, but how could you walk out on your child? That's not a mother, Seb. No mother would do that."
"She came back."
You couldn't help the scoff. "Yeah, what? 6 years later? What does that say about her, Seb? Suddenly she's ready to be a mom so you should let her back in Milly's life? What about all those things Milly went through without her? Milly is fine, she'll be okay without her."
Your words didn't have any malicious meaning behind it; you genuinely meant that Milly would be fine. Kids are resilient and Milly was no exception.
"She's not fine." Sebastian tells you, looking at you. "She doesn't have a mother, Y/n."
His words hit you like a freight train. What did he mean she didn't have a mother? You were her mother. Not biologically of course but you were the closest thing to a mother Milly had other than her grandmother and you had been in her life since she was in kindergarten.
A lot longer than her mother.
Sebastian's face softens when he sees the look on your face. He instantly realizes what he said and how wrong that was. He squeezes your hand, the words come tumbling out of his mouth.
"No, no, no. Y/n, that's not what I meant. You know that. You know what I meant, right? I love you, Milly loves you."
"Yeah, no, of course." You say, taking your hand away from his. "You're right, I'm not her mother."
You get up, grabbing your coat and your purse before walking out. Sebastian quickly followed, he dropped some cash on the table before rushing out after you. He called your name, chasing after you through the parking lot. You ignored his words, walking to your truck.
Sebastian catches up, grabbing your arm gently.
"Y/n please, c'mon. You know I didn't mean it like that."
"You're right, Sebastian. I'm not her mother." You say flatly. The sweet soft voice he loved so much was full of coldness and disdain tonight and it was killing him.
At this point, it'd be less painful if you stuck your hand in his chest and pulled his heart out.
"If you think she can do with a mother, why don't you call Lilly back, Sebastian? You can play house with her until she ups and changes her mind again."
Your words were filled with poison. He knew you were upset but the tone of your voice hurt him more than the words did.
"That's not fair."
"You want to talk about what's not fair? What's not fair is you saying I'm not her mother despite being the only woman who's ever cared for her. Her own mother walked out and didn't even looked back for her and you have the fucking audacity to tell me that I'm not her mother? I love her like my own child, she basically is and this is how you treat me?"
"That's not what I meant at all, y/n. Let me explain." He takes a step closer and you take a step back, pulling away from him.
"No, forget it. Forget you. Go back to Lilly, I hope you can have the happy family you always wanted." You spat.
The words sunk into Seb's heart, pulling at the deepest strings as he watched you get into the truck and drive off. Sebastian was standing in the middle of the parking lot, staring at the parking space that once held your truck.
He didn't know what happened or how it happened, he just stood there, dumbfounded.
You drove off, knuckles white from how tightly you were gripping the steering wheel. Liv was at Seb's and you knew she'd be safe there so you figured you'd go home, take the night to yourself and cool off.
--
Sebastian finds himself at his front door, the uber pulled out of the driveway as he stuck the key in the lock. His coat on the rack; his, Milly's and Liv's, Mick's as well. There's still an empty space, your space.
He walked into the house quietly, the sound of giggles filling his ears as he rounded the corner to see the two girls on the floor, clipping on bows to Mick's dog, Angie. She had shaggy fur, long enough for them to dress her up without hurting her. The dog laid on the floor patiently as the girls attached different coloured bows and Mick sat on the couch, recording them, probably to send the video to his girlfriend.
"Hey," Seb says quietly.
Milly and Liv look up. "Hi papa!" "Hi Mr Seb!"
He smiles at the girls, the sight of them warming his heart. You would have loved this, you probably would have joined them in dolling up Angie. Mick glances at Sebastian, noticing the lack of you.
"Where's mama?" Liv asks, looking at Seb. He freezes for a minute. "She had a work emergency, honey."
Liv nods, not thinking otherwise but Mick did. He stops recording.
"Who wants to watch Smurfs?" He says, all excited as he reaches for the remote. The girls cheer and climb up on the couch, Mick puts the movie off for them before getting up, Angie replaces him on the couch and is cuddled up between the two girls who were now petting her.
Mick pats Seb's shoulder and Seb follows Mick to the kitchen. The younger German leans into the fridge to get two beers, opening them and passing one to Seb. He watches as Seb takes a long sip before sighing, putting the bottle on the counter.
"Okay," Mick starts. "Where is Y/n? Because I might not be an architect but I'm smart enough to know that nobody has a building emergency at 10 o'clock at night."
Sebastian sighs again, heavy and deep as if he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. Sebastian speaks, spilling everything that happened at dinner, in the restaurant and in the parking lot.
Mick listens, his face neutral as he tries to hear Sebastian out. Seb finishes explaining and Mick nods, taking a sip of his beer before speaking.
"Are you stupid?"
"Mick!" Seb groans, elbows on the counter with his face in his palms.
The younger man shakes his head, setting his bottle on the counter. "No seriously, are you insane, Sebastian? Why would you even say that to her?"
"She asked!" Seb says, groaning.
"Okay but would you have liked it if she told you that you weren’t like Liv’s father? I know you aren’t biologically but you basically are, you and y/n are a team, you have to work this out. If not for yourselves but for the sake of the girls."
Seb looked at Mick, not only was he right but he sounded so much like his father. Seb can't help the smile on his face as he looked at the younger boy; the splitting image of his dad.
"When did you get so wise?" He asks.
Mick just pats Seb's shoulder. "Work it out with her, okay?"
Seb nods, getting up. "Can you watch the girls for a bit longer?"
"Yeah man, no worries. But if you're going to hers, maybe don't? Give her the night to cool off. You guys don't want to say more things that you regret."
Seb nods and pulls his phone out of his pocket. "How about a text?"
"A text can work." Mick says, walking off to the living room and leaving Seb in the kitchen.
It took him a few minutes to actually send it, he kept rewriting the text over and over again before he decided on a simple short statement.
From Sebastian: I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.
---
The phone was on the bed when you woke up, you see Sebastian's text from the night before and you don't bother to answer, you send back a message of your own.
To Sebastian: I'll be by to pick you Liv in a bit.
You leave the phone on the bed to go brush your teeth but by the time you walk into the bathroom, you hear the phone buzz. Walking back over, you see a response from Sebastian.
From Sebastian: See you soon.
It's a bit past 10:30 when you head over to Seb's, the girls would be up and you could pick up Liv and head out without having to deal with Seb.
You understood where he was coming from last night, you're not an unreasonable woman but it did hurt when he said Milly didn't have a mother because you were her mother, you have been since she and Liv became friends.
The truck parked in the driveway, you walk up to the door and knock. It sounds quiet, maybe the girls were up in Milly's room. Sebastian opens the door.
"Where's Liv?" You ask and Seb smiles softly. "Good morning to you too, Y/n."
"Yeah." You nod, shifting from one foot to the other. "Morning."
Seb opens the door a little wider, letting you step inside and you do, only because it's chilly. "Where's Liv?"
"At breakfast with Milly and Mick." Seb says casually, shutting the door. "You didn't think to tell me that?" You turn to look at him.
Seb shrugged. "You didn't say what time you were coming by. Plus I thought they'd be back by now. I'm sure they talked Mick into buying them something else."
"And you're not with them because?"
"I was waiting for you."
You huffed, Sebastian smiles. "Coffee?" He says, already walking to the kitchen. Well, you couldn't stand in the doorway like a crazy woman. You followed him into the kitchen, sitting on the stool while he made you coffee.
There's a tension building in the kitchen, thick enough that you could almost see it.
You were both waiting.
For the other to speak first. To apologize. But neither of you were willing to give in, not yet.
Sebastian placed the steaming mug on the counter in front of you, His eyes lingered on you, as if he was waiting for you to say something, anything, but you didn’t.
“Here,” he said, one word, but it carried the weight of everything unsaid between you. “I… I’m sorry about last night.”
You met his eyes, feeling the flicker of vulnerability there. It wasn’t enough to erase the hurt, but it was a start. You stared at the coffee, then back at him, the tension still palpable.
Maybe, just maybe, something had shifted.
"Okay." You say quietly, taking a small sip of the coffee.
Sebastian’s eyes softened, a mix of regret and something deeper, something unreadable. He leaned against the counter, a sigh escaping his lips as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I should’ve never said that last night,” he murmured, his eyes meeting yours. “I… I didn’t mean it.”
You hum, the weight of the words he’d thrown at you the night before was still fresh. But there was something in the way he said it now, like he was trying to unbury himself from a mess he'd created.
He looks at you, his voice a little more certain this time. “Lilly might be her mother biologically, but you’re more of a mother to her than Lilly ever has been. You’re all she knows.”
The words hit harder than expected, something inside you tightening, your heart swelling in a mix of pride and guilt. You opened your mouth, ready to argue, to ask him what would happen if Lilly came back, if things changed, but before you could speak, he cut you off.
“There’s no but,” he said quickly, stopping the thought before you could say anything, as if he knew exactly what you were going to say to him. “Except yours."
You can't help but roll your eyes; only Sebastian would ruin a sweet moment with a comment about your ass.
"She needs you. You are Milly’s mother.”
The way he said it, so simply, so firmly, it settled deep into you. You looked down at the coffee mug in your hands, the weight of his words lingering, but something had shifted in the space between you. The silence felt different now. Less suffocating, more like something you could work with.
Maybe he was right. Maybe you were Milly’s mother. At least, in every way that mattered.
Sebastian rounded the counter, taking your hands in his. He looks at you, his heart at ease that you were here with him. He could see from the look on your face that you were willing to work with him, to keep going, you weren't pulling away.
"I can't wait for you to be Milly's mom, for real."
Your brows furrow, looking at Sebastian. Your eyes widen as you feel and see him lower himself onto the ground in front of you, he's on one knee, looking up at you.
"Y/n, you know," he started, his voice quiet at first, gathering strength, "I never thought I’d find love again. Not after everything. But then I met you. You’re not just the love of my life, you’re my best friend. The person who gets me in a way no one else does. You make everything better just by being in it."
He paused, looking down for a second, his thoughts catching up with his heart. "When I thought I’d lost it all, I thought I lost you, I never imagined I’d find someone who makes me want to try again, who makes me feel like I’m home. And now, I can’t imagine my life without you."
His gaze met yours, soft but sure. “I’m so glad I found you, Y/N. So, so grateful that you’re here. And I can’t wait to raise Liv and Milly with you, to share everything with you. Because with you, I know we’ll be okay.”
Sebastian’s voice softened, but it was full of love. “I love you. I love you more than I ever thought I was capable of. And I want to spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”
He took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly as he squeezed for yours. “So, will you marry me? Will you make this family, this life… ours?"
Your eyes full of tears, your heart beating out of your chest as you nodded. "Yes, yes of course I'll marry you, Seb." Your hands move from his to his cheeks, holding them as you leant down to kiss him. You didn't let go until Sebastian stood up again, his arms around your waist.
"I'm sorry I didn't have a ring, I wasn't.. uh, planning to propose right now. I wanted to do something magical and worthy of you. I'll buy a ring and do it again."
"Doesn't matter," you tell him, you could care less about a ring. "As long as I have you, I have everything I need."
--
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#sugar and spice; all things nice series#sebastian vettel#sebastian vettel x reader#sebastian vettel x you#sebastian vettel x y/n#sebastian vettel imagine#sebastian vettel fic#sebastian vettel fluff#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 x y/n#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 fluff#f1 series
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Hiiiii!! Can I request a Sung Jinwoo x Reader angst? They are lovers and the timeline is where Jinwoo hasn't known/seen Ashborn. Jinwoo has been abusing the system and the consequence/backfires of it is that the system will forcefully make him not remember his lover by making it look like it's an accident in the dungeon. When he forgot the reader, Jin-ah and the reader were of course devastated. And then the Reader always tries to make Jinwoo remember her by doing the things they always did as a couple in hopes of making him remember her. BUTTT, when Jinwoo was in a raid with Cha Hae-in, it clicked for Jinwoo that he wanted Hae-in to be with him (he thinks he fell in love) and when the Reader found out, she fell into depression (of course who wouldn't😭😭). Then the Reader gave up and just vanished out of thin air (moved out into a new city/country your choice hehe) she still contacts Jin-ah and Jin-ah's mother of course so that they wouldn't worry about her too much. And when the time comes where Jinwoo remembered the reader (it's up to you if you want to make him remember the reader by having him in another accident or make him meet Ashborn and Ashborn made him relieve all of his memories with the reader), he was too late as for that the reader got into an accident and is in a coma.
Btw Jinwoo and the Reader's relationship was private and kept a secret that's why Cha Hae-in doesn't know that Jinwoo has a lover when she began to date Jinwoo. The Reader also doesn't know about the system:)
It's up to you if you want the Reader to be a hunter or a normal civilian^^ and the ending is also up to you because I wanna know what's you thought about this request of mine.
I know that there are many plot holes to this request and I apologize for that. Please take your time doing this request and take care of yourself dear Author!!
[ Req 2 ] Faded shadow. ✧. ┊ s.jinwoo x fem!reader Note: angst, open ending.
Sung Jinwoo and you are inseparable in the quiet corners of your secret life. To the outside world, Jinwoo is a rising star, a recluse among hunters. To you, however, he is simply Jinwoo: the man who kisses your forehead in the morning, whispers dreams of their future together, and holds you tight when nightmares haunt you. You still don't know about the System, the mysterious entity that watches over your every move, nor do you realize how much he relies on it to become stronger.
Jinwoo had his own reasons for pushing the System to its limits. He sought power, not only to protect his family, but also to ensure he could always keep you safe. However, the System was cruel, and it had noticed his defiance. It was patient, waiting for the perfect moment to punish him.
✧˖*°࿐
It happened during a raid in a dungeon that the System had set up for him. Jinwoo had grown cocky, confident in his abilities and the power he wielded. As always, you waited for him at home. You hated when he went on these dangerous missions, but you trusted him to return. He always did.
This time, however, the System struck. A split-second lapse, a misstep orchestrated by its will, caused Jinwoo to find himself trapped in an illusion. It presented a different reality—one where you never existed. When he fought his way out of the dungeon, battered but victorious, he couldn’t remember why his heart ached with emptiness.
Returning home, he found your belongings scattered around the apartment: a sweater draped over a chair, your favorite mug on the counter, and a pair of your slippers by the door. None of it made sense.
"Whose are these?"
He asked himself, confusion gnawing at the edges of his mind. When you greeted him with open arms, the love in your eyes met only with cold indifference.
✧˖*°࿐
The following weeks were incredibly difficult for you. At first, you thought it was just stress. 'He’s been through so much,' you told yourself. But the distance between you grew unbearable. Jinwoo no longer looked at you with warmth; in fact, he barely looked at you at all. Your jokes went unanswered, and your touches went unnoticed. It felt as if you were a ghost in your own home.
"Jinwoo, please, talk to me," you begged one night, your voice trembling. "What’s wrong? What did I do?"
He frowned, the question piercing something deep and buried within him. "Who are you?" he asked.
Your world shattered.
✧˖*°࿐
Even as your heart shattered, you held onto the hope that you still could help Jinwoo remember the moments that once bound you. You replayed your memories: laughter in the kitchen, hands intertwined during park walks, and dances filled with love. But each cherished memory was met with Jinwoo's distant confusion, cutting deeper than any blade.
Then Cha Hae-in entered your lives. What began as a comrade-in-arms turned into something more as he mentioned her frequently. The warmth in his voice shifted towards her, tainting your hope.
The final blow came when you saw Jinwoo and Cha Hae-in together after a raid. His eyes, once filled with love for you, sparkled for her. In that moment, you realized he had moved on, and the weight of this truth pressed heavily on your chest, a sorrow threatening to consume you.
✧˖*°࿐
Unable to bear the pain, you left. You moved to a new city without a word to Jinwoo, leaving only a message for Jin-ah and Jinwoo’s mother. You promised to stay in touch with them but avoided any mention of Jinwoo. “Please take care of him for me,” you texted, tears staining the phone's screen.
For a time, you tried to rebuild your life. But the shadows of your memories haunted you. Your laughter felt hollow, your days stretched endlessly. And though you tried to forget, you still dreamt of him.
✧˖*°࿐
2 years passed. Jinwoo found himself face-to-face with Ashborn. The entity revealed the truth, showing Jinwoo his past, your face, and the moments the System had stolen from him. He relived everything: the warmth of your smile, the softness of your voice, the way you’d looked at him as if he were your entire world. The guilt was unbearable.
He searched for you immediately, tracing every lead until he found your name in a hospital registry. You’d been in an accident, the doctors said. A coma. They weren’t sure if you’d ever wake up.
Jinwoo sat by your bedside, his trembling hand covering yours. "I’m sorry," he whispered. "I remember now. I’ve always loved you. Please, come back to me." His voice broke. "Don’t leave me alone in this world."
No one knows if the two of you can go back to the past or not, no one knows if you will wake up or not. But one thing we can know is that he will wait, wait for the day you wake up, wait for the day he can make up for the time apart. And he's never leaving again.
I can't find any certain ending for the story. I think it's the best to let it be a open ending.
The idea is really cool, I think that System will most likely do that.
Anyway, hope you like it! It's also my first time writing angst :).
#dream.✧˖*°࿐#leona.star#solo leveling#sung jin woo#sung jinwoo#sungjinwoo#solo leveling x reader#sung jinwoo x reader#sung jinwoo x y/n#sung jinwoo x you
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Personal Records - Chapter 9
Summary: chapter 9 of this AU series. This chapter they are telling the parents! and the kids..
Warnings: domestic / family-life, fluff, smut (next ch more smut).
Wc: 5380
Proofread by yours truly; @pinkygirl28
“Mum, can I go in the pool?” Oliver asked, his cheeks flushed red from playing football with Nela in the yard.
Lucy looked up from the kitchen, where she was setting plates and cutlery on the counter, ready to take them to the dining room. “The pool?” she repeated. They had let it get cleaned last as it was June and the boys´ summer break was right around the corner. “I don’t think that’s going to work right now, Ollie. I’m getting things ready for dinner, and mamá is getting changed, after that she will go sit with Grandma and Grandpa.”
“I can go on my own,” the seven-year-old whined. “You know I can swim!”
“I know, baby,” Lucy said gently, offering him a compassionate smile. “Maybe tomorrow, though. If the weather’s nice, we can swim together, all four of us. How does that sound?”
Oliver huffed, stepping fully inside and holding the door open for the dog, who followed him in to the house. “I want to swim now,” he said, his tone firm with frustration.
“You can help set the table,” Lucy offered, keeping her voice calm. “We’re almost ready to eat.”
Oliver shook his head. “No.”
“Then you’ll have to find something else to do,” Lucy said simply, noticing the dog heading straight for her bowl of water. “How about I get you something to drink to cool off?”
Before Oliver could respond, both of them turned their heads toward the hall as Ona descended down the stairs.
“Mamá,” Oliver ran to her with renewed energy. “Can I go in the pool?”
Ona raised an eyebrow, glancing over her son’s head to meet Lucy’s eyes. Lucy shook her head and smiled. “I told him it wasn’t the right moment,” she explained, “and that we could all go swim this weekend if the weather’s nice.”
“Ah,” Ona laughed, crouching slightly to Oliver’s height. “So, what’s this? Did you think mamá would say something different than mom?”
Oliver groaned dramatically and let himself flop to the floor. “I want to swim.”
“What do you want to drink, Ollie? Water or juice?” Lucy called patiently.
Ona walked past him, heading to the living room to greet her parents. Meanwhile, Oliver reluctantly accepted a glass of water and calmed down as he drank.
Lucy busied herself setting the table, moving back and forth between the kitchen and the dining room while occasionally stirring the food on the stove.
“Okay,” Oliver finally said, “can I play with my Legos then?”
Lucy smiled, relieved at the change in mood. “Of course you can. I’ll call you down when it’s time to eat, okay?”
Oliver hesitated. “Can you bring the Lego down? I don’t want to play upstairs.”
“I’m busy right now, Oliver,” Lucy said with a sigh, trying to keep her cool. “You can play upstairs or wait 15 minutes, and then we’ll eat.”
Huffing, Oliver stomped off, determined to ask his other mother instead.
..
A few minutes later, Lucy saw Ona and Oliver heading for the stairs.
“Where are you going?” she called after them.
“Ollie wants me to get his Legos,” Ona explained. “I know dinner’s almost ready, but-”
“You’re not carrying that down the stairs,” Lucy interrupted, shaking her head.
“Oh, come on,” Ona laughed. “It’s not heavy. I can manage.”
“It’s not about the weight,” Lucy said firmly. “It’s an awkward thing to carry, and I don’t want you tripping down the stairs. Can you stir this for a second? I’ll go get it.”
Ona rolled her eyes but smiled. “I can do it.”
“I know you can,” Lucy said with a grin. “But you don’t have to.”
Relenting, Ona took Lucy’s place at the stove while Lucy headed upstairs with Oliver.
Ona’s mother, who had been watching the exchange from the living room, raised an eyebrow.
Ona felt herself blush under her mother’s gaze and looked down at the pan she was stirring.
“Any special reason you two invited us over?” her mom asked to the other side of the room, in Catalan.
Her dad joined in. “Yeah, Lucy just poured me one of the best whiskeys around. I was wondering if there’s something to celebrate.”
Ona blinked, wanting herself not to get emotional. Of course her parents had noticed there was something special because of Lucy’s extra attentiveness, not because they had spotted her barely-hideable stomach.
“No, nothing special, just dinner together,” Ona tried nonchalantly. ‘’We do that all the time, right?’’
Her dad shrugged with a smile, taking Ona’s answer as good logic. “True. Sometimes I pour myself a good one just because. You don’t always need a reason.” He said, before turning his attention back to Lucas.
“Mhm,” Ona murmured, smiling.
Her mom, unconvinced, stood and carried her empty glass to the kitchen.
Lowering her voice, she asked, “Is something wrong? You and Lucy don’t have to pretend. If something’s up, you can tell us - at least me.”
Ona shook her head quickly. “No, everything is really good. I promise.”
Just then, Lucy returned with the long rectangular tray full of Lego, Oliver trailing behind her, proudly holding the project he was working on.
“Where do you want to sit?” Lucy asked him, ‘’and you have to watch Nela. Make sure she doesn’t eat any of it.”
Oliver nodded seriously. “Over there, at the table,” he said, pointing to the coffee table in the TV room.
Lucy set the box down and Oliver thanked her, then she headed to the living room to check on her father-in-law.
“Can I get you another drink?” she asked him. Then she looked at Lucas, who was sitting on his grandfather’s lap. “Lucas, you?”
Both Lucas and his grandfather said they didn’t want anything, so after that she got back to the kitchen.
“Thanks for taking over,” Lucy said softly to Ona as she walked back in. “I’ll put the glasses and salads on the table, and then I can take back over for the last things, okay?’’
“Mhm, can I help with anything else?” Ona offered.
“Hmm no,” Lucy said, thinking. “You can turn the heat off—that looks ready, yeah?”
Ona smiled. “Good, because I’m starving.”
Her mother observed the interaction. Lucy and Ona had always been openly in love, but there was something different now. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
…
Finally everyone was settled at the table, all the food was stood on the table invitingly, but Lucy wasn’t plating food yet. Instead she put her laptop out on the table, logging in, ready to call her parents.
The boys impatiently wiggled in their seat, Ona’s parents looked at her questioning.
‘’We.. uh.. we actually have something to tell you.’’ Lucy said, getting nervous all of a sudden. She hadn’t really planned out the rest of this.
Ona chuckled, ‘’call your parents, I hope they’ll answer.’’
Lucy pressed the video call button, she hadn’t warned them she’d call, but surely they would be home at nine in the evening.
‘’Lucee!’’ her moms cheery voice answered the phone, though she got silent as she was met with the sight of a full table of people, ‘’oh.. uh.. hello?’’
‘’Hi mom!’’ Lucy cheered back, ‘’can ya get dad at the phone too?’’
Her mom nodded, ‘’yeah he’s sitting right here, in the other chair, he can hear you.’’
‘’No get him on the camera.’’ Lucy said. ‘’please.’’
Her mom frowned, ‘’everything okay?’’
‘’That’s our question too.’’ Ona’s mom chuckled, slightly nervous.
‘’It’s good new, don’t worry.’’ Ona chuckled.
‘’hi dad,’’ Lucy smiled towards the laptop, ‘’Can you hear us well?’’
‘’Hello Lucy,’’ he waved, ‘’what’s all of this? Hey Salvador! Montse! Nice to see you two, how are you?’’
‘’Joaquim!’’ Ona’s dad leaned in, ‘’we’re allright, how about you? Did you two have a good trip back to England after Ona’s birthday?’’
‘’Yeah, our trip was very nice!’’ Joaquim smiled, ‘’thanks again for flying us back.’’
‘’You know you two never have to fly commercial, I can always send a plane.’’ He said, something completely out of touch, but everyone knew he meant only well with what he said, and he meant it.
‘’Allright,’’ Lucy cleared her throat, making everyone look at her silently, ‘’uh.. the reason we have everyone here.. is because Ona and I have something to tell.’’
‘’What?’’ Oliver asked, ‘’mamá?’’
Lucy smiled, ‘’mhm, mamá and I have some fun news.’’ She pulled out the ultrasound pictures and held them up with a big smile.
‘’Ohhhh!’’ loud yelps came from the laptop, while Ona’s mother yelped too, Ona’s dad just laughed, shaking his head with a happy face.
Ona stood up with a smile, showing her stomach through her clothes.
´´What is that?’’ Oliver asked.
Ona’s mom turned to her grandson, ‘’that’s a picture of a baby in her belly.’’
‘’A baby?’’ Oliver shouted, ‘’huh, mamá is there a baby in your belly?’’
Lucas giggled, ‘’nooo.’’
Lucy looked at her kids, ‘’yeah, here’s a picture.. do you see it.’’ She held up the ultrasound.
Ona laughed, ‘’just tell them, that picture is barely recognizable.’’
‘’I cant believe were going to be grandparents again!’’ Diane said, the sound crackled through the laptop speakers.
Ona’s mom had gotten up to hug Ona, ‘’oh my baby, you’re pregnant.’’ She put her hand over Ona’s stomach, ‘’I would have never guessed, how have I not noticed, mios you’re so far along.’’
Ona couldn’t contain herself anymore, ‘’twins!’’ she laughed. ‘’I’m sixteen weeks along, its twins.’’
‘’TWINS?’’ now even Ona’s dad joined the excitement.
Oliver turned to Lucy, ‘’two?’’
Lucy nodded, ‘’see,’’ she pointed to the vague outlines of the babies, ‘’here’s one their heads, and the other one is here, you see this is one of its legs.’’
‘’Mama has two babies in her belly?’’ Lucas giggled, ‘’nooo is not possible, how did they get there?’’ he asked, shaking his head.
Lucy turned her attention to him, nodding, ‘’yeah its true, come see.’’ She turned to Ona and lifted her shirt, pointing at the baby bump, ‘’d’you see? Just like when Misa was in Rosa’s stomach.. do you remember that Lucas? Ollie?’’
Oliver nodded, suddenly getting a little silent.
‘’Oh Lucy I’m over the moon for you two!’’ Another one of Diane’s cries sounded over Facetime.
Joaquim was just as excited, ‘’oh we wish we were there to congratulate the two of you!’’
‘’c’mere,’’ Lucy said to her sons, with a smile ‘’come.’’
Oliver and Lucas got of their chair, shyly walking towards their moms.
Ona´s mother made way for her grandsons, petting their heads, ´´ahhh you two will be big brothers.´´
Ona smiled towards Oliver and Lucas, ´´what are you thinking love?’’ she asks Ollie.
Olivers gaze is fixed on Ona’s stomach, that is now covered by her shirt again, he carefully puts his hand out, and looks at Ona as he makes very careful contact, ‘’when will they get out?’’
Lucy chuckled, Ona smiled at his question, putting her own hand over Olivers, ‘’21st of November is their due date. Do you know that word? Due date.’’
Oliver nods, ‘’is that close to my birthday?’’ he askes.
Ona laughs, ‘’yeah that’s right, but you are born on the 4th of November.. so after you turn eight, they will be born.’’
‘’Do I still have my own birthday then?’’ Oliver asked.
‘’Ofcourse!’’ Ona said, taking Oliver closer to her, ‘’you will always have your own birthday.’’
‘’It’s almost my birthday!’’ Lucas said, jumping up and down.
Lucy laughed, she didn’t know how the news had come to the point of them discussing birthdays, but at least no one was mad or crying, so she guessed the boys where allright with it.
‘’Is it girls or boys?’’ Oliver asked, ‘’no girls please, I want them to play football with me.’’
Lucy laughed, ‘’why do it have to be boys then? Lucas doesn’t play football, he is a boy, I am a girl I can play.’’
Oliver rolled his eyes, ‘’you know that girls are stupid.’’
Ona and her own mouth fell open as they looked at eachother, ‘’I’ve never heard you say that Ollie, why do think that?’’ Ona said.
‘’Alejandro says his sister és pesada.’’ Lucas joined in.
‘’Well, we don’t really know yet what they will be,’’ Lucy said carefully, ‘’it can be one girl and one boy, or it can be two girls.’’
‘’Or two boys.’’ Oliver said, ‘’right?’’
Ona hummed, ‘’well, the doctor had only been able to see for one of them what it was, and it cant be two boys – one is a girl.’’
‘’I didn’t notice you not drinking at your birthday Ona,’’ Ona’s dad laughed, ‘’come here my daughter, let me give you a hug.’’
…
After dinner Lucy cleaned up while Ona and her parents talked with their sons about the big news. Their sons had been asking all kinds of questions, and wanted to see and feel Ona’s stomach.
Lucy could almost cry from how cute she found the sight of Lucas and Olivers hands carefully laying on top of her wife’s baby bump.
She’d promised her parents to call them tomorrow again, giving them the opportunity to let the news settle too. But as she had already expected they were over the moon, still Lucy was glad that everyone had reacted so well.
After serving everyone a round of drinks and joining in on the lively conversation for a while, Lucy had gently suggested that Ona stay with her parents and keep chatting. She offered to handle bedtime with the boys herself, knowing how much Ona treasured catching up with her parents.. especially with this big and unexpected news.
What Lucy thought would be a relatively normal routine stretched on much longer than expected. Lucas, to her surprise, fell asleep almost immediately after she tucked him in. Oliver, however, had other plans. Sitting beside him in his room, Lucy read a bedtime story, hoping it would settle him. But instead of winding down, Oliver had been full of endless questions—about the baby, the future, and things Lucy wasn’t quite prepared to answer on the spot. It was unusual for him to be the inquisitive one; typically, Lucas was the curious one who asked why after why after why. Still, Lucy patiently answered as many questions as she could, until finally telling Oliver they could continue talking in the morning.
By the time she returned to the living room, Lucy was more tired than she’d anticipated, but the sight of Ona laughing with her parents made it all worthwhile. She settled into the sofa with them, as Ona’s mom this time, gave everyone another drink.
..
‘’Tired?’’ Lucy asked, closing the door behind Ona’s parents.
Ona yawned, leaning into Lucy, ‘’very.’’
‘’Head straight to bed?’’ Lucy proposed.
‘’Will you cuddle me,’’ Ona said, nuzzling her face in Lucy’s neck.
Lucy smiled. ’’mhm, always.’’
‘’I don’t want you to shower,’’ Ona said.
‘’What?’’ Lucy frowned, she had had one session with a client this morning and after that she hadn’t had the time to shower yet, she had changed for the appointment with Ona and was still wearing those clothes.
Ona blushed, turning away, ‘’nothing, come we’re going to bed.’’
Lucy chuckled, ‘’what?’’ she teased, drawing the word out, ‘´you want me to be stinky?’’
‘’You don’t stink,’’ Ona turned back to Lucy.
‘’Who’s the weird one now,’’ Lucy laughed.
Ona rolled her eyes, ‘’I have an excuse.’’
‘’Alright,’’ Lucy put her hand on the small of Ona’s back, ‘’cant argue with that,’’ she kissed Ona’s temple, ‘’let’s get to bed then.’’
‘’Will you lock everything?’’ Ona pouted, it was a task they both hated, but needed to be done. Lock the outside doors, put the alarm on, and put the dogs collar with the location and key sensor in the charger.
‘’it’ll cost you a kiss,’’ Lucy smirked, though she had done the task everyday the past weeks.
‘’You will get it when you’re in bed,’’ Ona chuckled, walking away slowly.
Lucy winked at her, ‘’I’ll make it quick.’’
…
Ona brushed her teeth as she sat on the toilet, she stared into space but this was interrupted by Lucy entering the bathroom.
‘’Everything’s locked.’’ Lucy smiled, taking off her shirt and throwing it in the laundry basket.
Ona hummed, not able to talk back with her mouth full. Her eyes travelled over Lucy’s body, who was stripping until she was standing naked.
Lucy turned to the sink, taking a washcloth from the drawer, ‘’am I really not allowed to shower?’’
Ona laughed, flushing the toilet and getting to the sink to spit out her toothpaste. ‘’You can shower now if you want,’’ ‘’or we can shower together tomorrow morning.’’
‘’Mkay,’’ Lucy said, wetting the washcloth, ‘’it’s a date.’’
Ona chuckled, ‘’if anyone else was a part of this relationship we’d be declared insane.’’
‘’Well, luckily its just us two weirdos then.’’ Lucy chuckled as she freshened herself up.
Ona laughed, ´´yeah.´´ She started taking her make-up off.
‘’Are you happy with how it went?’’ Lucy asked.
Ona turned to her, ‘’yeah I think so, the boys took it well.’’
‘’mhm,’’ Lucy nodded, ‘’it was sweet seeing them so careful with you.’’
Ona smiled, her eyes traveling over Lucy’s body involuntary, ‘’yeah they were really careful, really sweet.’’
Lucy laughed, waving infront of Ona’s face, ‘’you good?’’
Ona smirked, only now realizing she was staring, ‘’yeah, sorry, you’re a bit distracting.’’
‘’Oh, I’m sorry,’’ Lucy laughed mockingly, ‘’I’ll put some clothes on in a second.’’
Ona blinked and brought her eyes up to meet Lucy’s, ‘’oh you don’t have to trouble yourself on my behalf." She said unseriously in polite English, joking. But also not.
Lucy chuckled, ‘’I’m getting déjà vu,’’ she teased. Yesterday Ona had pouted for her to hold her closer when they were lying in bed, as she felt like she couldn’t feel her ‘close enough’.
‘’It’s not my fault,’’ Ona pouted, ‘’it’s the hormones.’’ She got infront of Lucy, hugging her.
´´I know baby,´´ Lucy smiled, ‘’I love it, it’s cute when you’re needy.’’
Ona giggled, tightening her hold around Lucy like she never wanted to let go. Lucy laughed softly, brushing a hand over Ona’s back before stepping back just enough to look her in the eyes.
"Alright, go lie down," Lucy said gently, she punctuated the words with a light pat on Ona’s ass, grinning. "I’ll be there in a second."
Ona sighed dramatically, leaning in to press a few lingering kisses to Lucy’s neck, her lips brushing the skin just above her collarbone. "Fine," she relented, though her tone was playful. She turned and shuffled out of the bathroom, mumbling as she went.
Lucy caught herself chuckling silently, watching Ona’s retreating figure in the mirror as she brushed her teeth. Once she was finished, she stepped out of the bathroom and into their closet, grabbing a pair of boxers and pulling on a loose T-shirt.
As she headed back toward the bed, she found Ona sprawled out, looking blissfully content. ‘’Lying on your back is so underrated.´´ Ona hummed.
Lucy grinned as Ona’s eyes lazily followed her movements. "You should be under the covers," Lucy teased, getting onto the bed and climbing over Ona.
"I’m fine like this," Ona mumbled as Lucy tugged her shirt up to expose her rounded belly. Lucy leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the curve of Ona’s stomach.
Ona giggled, her hand instinctively going to Lucy’s head. "That tickles!" she laughed, wiggling slightly.
Lucy pulled back with a mock-apologetic smile. "Sorry," she murmured before placing her hand on Ona’s belly. "Hi, babies," she whispered softly. "Today we decided that one of you is going to be called Sofía, I hope you will think it’s a pretty name. And the other…" Lucy looked up at Ona, "well, we’re still figuring that out, but don’t worry, we’ll pick something just as beautiful."
Ona smiled down at her, her hand resting atop Lucy’s as she let her wife continue her sweet monologue to their twins.
"You’ve got the best mamá in the world," Lucy ended her chat with, gently rubbing Ona’s belly. "And I can’t wait to meet you both, but you guys get to stay in there for a little while longer."
Leaning down, Lucy pressed one final kiss to Ona’s stomach before crawling up to lie beside her. She rested on her side, gazing at Ona with a tender expression, then kissed her cheek. "Love you," she said softly.
Ona turned her head. "Love you too," she whispered.
Lucy settled in further against Ona, her arm slipping beneath her neck for support, her other hand resting gently on her stomach.
Ona exhaled softly, shifting closer before murmuring, "Closer, please."
Lucy raised an eyebrow, smiling as she adjusted, carefully draping one of her legs over Ona’s and sliding her hand beneath Ona’s shirt, her fingers tracing slow circles on the warm skin of her side. She nestled her face into Ona’s neck, breathing her in. “Better?” she whispered.
Ona shook her head, her voice coming out in a small, plaintive whine. “No.”
Lucy pressed a series of light kisses to Ona’s neck, her lips brushing against her pulse. “I don’t know how to fix it, bub,” she murmured against her skin. “I can’t get closer.”
Ona stayed quiet, her fingers absentmindedly toying with the baby hairs at the nape of Lucy’s neck.
Lucy felt the silence stretch and glanced up, her brows furrowing slightly. “What?” she asked softly. “You have something in mind?”
Ona’s blush crept up her cheeks as she gave a small, silent nod.
Lucy laughed lightly, leaning back just enough to catch Ona’s gaze. “What is it?” she teased, dragging out her words playfully. Ona turned her head away, clearly flustered.
“Hey,” Lucy chuckled, “What? Say it, baby,” she encouraged, leaning over to gently coax Ona’s eyes back to hers.
Ona lifted her head, stealing a quick, sweet kiss that left Lucy smiling. “I just want you close,” Ona whispered, her voice barely audible.
Lucy tilted her head, her expression soft and patient. “Close how? Explain it, amor. I’m as close as I can be.”
Ona hesitated, her eyes darting away before she met Lucy’s gaze again. Her voice was quiet, tinged with vulnerability. “I need to feel you, Luce… your hands, your eyes on me, everything.” she confessed, her cheeks pinking as she held Lucy’s gaze. “Want to feel you inside.”
Lucy’s smile grew, soft and reassuring. “Of course, baby. I’ll take care of you.” she murmured, leaning in to press a tender kiss to Ona’s lips. “You just had to ask.”
Lucy shifted her weight, carefully hovering over Ona, her lips brushing hers in a soft, lingering kiss. She trailed her lips down to Ona’s neck, pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses there, her breath hot against her skin. Slowly, she pushed Ona’s shirt up again, revealing her body bit by bit. Her lips followed, leaving a trail of kisses as she went, stopping at her chest.
“Sensitive?” Lucy murmured as she kissed the swell of Ona’s breast.
Ona’s cheeks flushed as she nodded. “Yeah… and they’re big. I feel like they’re bigger.”
Lucy leaned back slightly, sitting up with a playful smirk. “Yeah I think they are,” she said, her hands carefully cupping Ona’s breasts. Her touch was gentle, reverent, as if she were discovering something new. “You’re perfect, you know that?”
Ona blushed deeper, watching Lucy as her wife leaned back down. Lucy’s lips traveled lower, kissing Ona’s stomach, pausing to savor the soft curve of her growing belly.
When she reached the dip where Ona’s stomach met her hips, Lucy pressed a series of kisses along the edge of her panties.
Her eyes caught the small wet spot on the fabric, and Lucy laughed softly. “Well, look at this,” she teased, leaning up slightly more then normal to meet Ona’s gaze, her stomach hiding Ona’s face. “Is this for me, amor? You’re already so wet?”
Ona squirmed, her cheeks burning as she reached out, her hands finding Lucy’s shirt to pull her closer. “Luce, stop teasing,” she whined, her voice soft but desperate.
Lucy let herself be guided up, her lips meeting Ona’s again in a slow, heated kiss.
As Ona whimpered, her sounds muffled against Lucy’s lips, her hands found Lucy’s wrist, guiding it down, slipping it beneath the waistband of her panties.
Lucy moaned softly into the kiss as her fingers met Ona’s heath, sliding along her slick core.
Ona broke the kiss, gasping for air, her breath uneven. “Please, Luce,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
Lucy wasn’t about to make her wait. She held Ona’s gaze, her dark eyes filled with nothing but love and adoration as she slowly, carefully slipped two fingers inside her.
Ona’s eyes fluttered shut and her head fell back against the pillow. One of her hands cupped the back of Lucy’s neck, keeping her close, while her other hand stayed on Lucy’s wrist.
“You’re so beautiful,” Lucy whispered as Ona opened her legs for her further.
She groaned as she felt Ona’s walls clench tightly around her fingers.
Brushing her thumb along Ona’s clit, she felt the immediate jolt of reaction—a sharp inhale, followed by Ona’s hips instinctively bucking against her hand.
Lucy’s lips brushed against Ona’s temple, “You feel so good, love. Just like this. Let me make you feel so good.” She whispered steady, grounding as Ona whimpered in response.
“Luce,” Ona breathed, her voice sounding pleading. Her hips rolled with Lucy’s movements, seeking more. “Please..”
Lucy’s thumb circled Ona’s clit again, pressing lightly, eliciting a broken moan from her. “Like that?” Lucy hummed. “You’re doing so well for me.”
Ona’s hand on Lucy’s wrist tightened, her nails lightly digging in as her body shuddered. Lucy’s gaze never left her face, watching the way Ona’s lips parted, her brows knitting together with every wave of pleasure that coursed through her.
“Does that feel good?” Lucy murmured, brushing her nose against Ona’s cheek. “Tell me what you need.”
“Don’t stop,” Ona begged, her voice trembling. Her thighs quivered as Lucy’s fingers curled just right, her hips rising to meet each deliberate thrust. “Luce—ohh dios mío.”
“You look so beautiful, can’t keep my eyes off of you,” Lucy encouraged, her thumb keeping a steady rhythm while her fingers kept pumping in to her. “I love how you feel, baby, you’re made for me.”
Ona’s breathing grew erratic, her whimpers turning into desperate moans. “I’m- Luce.. -so close,” she stammered, her head pressing deeper into the pillow.
“That’s it, amor,” Lucy whispered, her voice steady and soothing despite the intensity of the moment. “Let go for me, baby. I’m right here.”
Finally her Orgasm washed over her, Ona cried out, her body tensing as the wave of release overtook her. Her thighs trembled around Lucy’s hand, and her grip on Lucy’s wrist slackened as her other hand slid to cradle Lucy’s face.
Lucy held Ona close, cradling her gently as if she were the most precious thing in the world.
Her lips found Ona’s cheek, then her temple, pressing soft, lingering kisses between whispered reassurances. “That’s my girl,” Lucy murmured, her voice sounding full of adoration. “I love you so much.”
Ona’s breathing gradually slowed, the erratic rise and fall of her chest evening out as her heart settled into a calm rhythm.
She blinked up at Lucy, her lips curving into a soft, sated smile, her eyes looking drowsy. “I love you too,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur, reaching out to pull Lucy into a kiss.
Lucy kissed her back softly, drawing out the moment as she carefully withdrew her hand from Ona’s panties. She wiped her fingers on the fabric.
Ona hummed into the kiss, a soft sound of contentment, before breaking away and sinking back against her pillow with a small smile. She gazed up at Lucy with a look that was utterly smitten.
“What?” Lucy asked, her own smile widening in response as she brushed a hair from Ona’s face.
“Nothing,” Ona said with a soft laugh, her cheeks heating up. “You’re just so-” She paused, her smile growing wider as she buried her face against Lucy’s neck, nuzzling into her.
“So what?” Lucy pressed, her curiosity piqued as she leaned in close, her lips brushing Ona’s ear. “So good at making you cum?” she teased with a smirk.
Ona chuckled, her voice muffled against Lucy’s skin. “Mhm, that too,” she admitted before pulling back slightly. Her tone softened as she continued, “No, what I was trying to say is… you’re so good to me.”
Lucy laughed softly, her fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on Ona’s side. “I try,” she said with a playful shrug.
The two of them settled into a comfortable silence, Lucy wrapping herself around Ona as they cuddled.
Ona leaned into the embrace, her head resting on Lucy’s shoulder while Lucy’s hand idly stroked her back.
The quiet rhythm of their breathing filled the room, and Lucy’s eyelids began to grow heavy, the weight of the day catching up with her.
Just as she was on the verge of drifting off, Ona’s soft voice broke the silence. “Mmm… ahora me comería una tortilla.”
Lucy stirred slightly, her brows knitting together in confusion as she woke again. “Hmm?” she asked, her voice thick with sleep. “Are you hungry?”
“Sí,” Ona nodded, her tone half-apologetic, half-hopeful. “But I don’t want to get out of bed.”
“You get nauseous when you’re hungry,” Lucy sighed knowingly, the corners of her lips twitching into a lopsided smile, her voice carrying the kind of familiarity born from experience.
Ona blinked up at her, a sugar-sweet smile spreading across her face.
“Oh, I see where this is going,” Lucy said, rolling her eyes even as a grin tugged at her lips. “Alright, I’ll go make it.”
“You’re the best,” Ona said quickly, her smile widening.
“What do you want?” Lucy asked, already sliding out of bed. “Did you say tortilla?”
“Mhm,” Ona said, her tone a little brighter now. “But can you make it with jalapeño?”
Lucy paused, one eyebrow arching as she turned to look at Ona. “Jalapeño? Do we even have any? And since when do you have a thing for spicy food?”
Ona nodded eagerly. “I bought a bunch. It’s in the refrigerator in the pantry… oh, and by the way, I’m having the chef make soft tacos tomorrow,” she added, almost too casually. “I’ve scheduled her in a few more times.”
Lucy stopped in her tracks, biting her lip as she processed this. “Huh?” she asked, her tone dipping slightly. Ona knew Lucy wasn’t thrilled about this.
“It’s only for my turns,” Ona said quickly, her eyes soft and pleading. “You already do so much, Lucy. It’s just for a couple of months.”
Lucy hesitated, her arms crossed as she mulled it over. “I just don’t want the boys to get out of touch,” she said carefully.
“I know,” Ona said softly. “But we.. you.. are teaching them to cook too. I mean… Oliver can make breakfast. I couldn’t do that until I was, what, twenty-four?”
Lucy shook her head, a reluctant smile breaking through. “Alright,” she conceded. “Jalapeño… any other special requests?”
“Are you mad at me?” Ona asked, her voice small, her gaze following Lucy as she headed for the door.
Lucy stopped and turned back, her expression softening. “No, not at all. Maybe it’s a good idea. I’ll have more time for other things,” she said stepping closer and leaning down to kiss Ona’s forehead. “I’ll go make your tortilla and be right back, okay? Try not to fall asleep.”
“You have to wake me if I fall asleep,” Ona begged poutingly.
Lucy chuckled as she walked backward toward the door, shaking her head. “I most certainly will not.”
“Ugh,” Ona groaned dramatically, shifting to sit up against the headboard and reaching for her phone. “Fine, I have some emails to check anyway.”
Lucy rolled her eyes and bit her tongue to keep from commenting as she stepped out of the room. Watching Ona be a workaholic always drove her mad, but for now, she’d focus on making her wife a tortilla... one with spice.. apparently.
..
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#lucy bronze#lucy bronze x ona batlle#woso community#ona batlle#woso#lucy bronze fanfic#lucy bronze imagine
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Telemachus x Apollo Blessed! Reader
Chapter One
Prince Telemachus who is favored by Athena with a reader who's favored by Apollo. Both under the guidance of the god and goddess of wisdom and knowledge respectively. One a fierce warrior and the other a lovely musician. Yet complete opposites of their role when it comes to a peaceful artist and intimidating opponent.
an - Telemachus will be here next chapter, don’t worry
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The Gods and Goddesses of Greece were known for many things, scorned by some and yet worshipped by many. One thing they were especially known for was to do in their contact with humans. In love, childbirth, war, and death, the gods changed the lives of many mortals, warranted not always for the better.
And two of the most powerful among these sky dwelling immortals were no strangers to this meddling in human affairs. Romantic rendezvous of the most personal kind to forging warriors with nothing but a cheap sword and minds of steel.
Apollo and Athena, god and goddess of Wisdom and Knowledge respectively, meant to pass on their skills to the humans of earth that they deemed worthy.
And complete opposites.
One, the most handsome god in all of Olympus. Often finding himself entangled with mortals that caught his attention. If not for Aphrodite, it would come as a shock to very few if he was the god of love with his affection for many throughout history.
The other, known as the virgin goddess for her complete disinterest in all romance. Living for the fight, mind a fortress that no warrior or crush could infiltrate.
Oh how unlucky were they when choosing their new mortals to train for the new generations…
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The sun was on its journey to rise above Ithaca, letting its golden light rest across the bustling marketplace, filled with the chatter of vendors and the clinking of coins. It was how it usually was with each new kingdom you moved to. At least each one had a similar experience in shopping, full of the same crowds.
Young children straying from their mothers who bought the household essentials, men who bought tools or just passed through. And boys, the same age as you. All mostly tan with black hair. Every kingdom had its similarities, especially with its choices of acquaintances.
“How about that one? The boys in Ithaca are cute for you, maybe one taller than you? Or are girls more your type? I haven’t asked you that yet, have I?” Apollo’s voice rings out in his usual smooth, teasing tone.
Of course, one thing that was always the same in every kingdom was Apollo as well. Your oh so loving patron god. Stuck to your side since you were little. God of oracles, healing, archery, music and arts, light, knowledge… blah blah. He loved to remind you of all his titles.
But at the moment he is pointing out the other boys around your age in the marketplace. Since he’s unseen by the public, he’s twirling some of the curly hair of a brunette next to you before moving over to a boy buying a loaf of bread and inspecting his face.
“Don’t you have the gift of knowing the future, great god of prophecy?” You retorted, rolling your eyes yet keeping your mouth closed. Easy to talk to a god when he reads your mind when you share your thoughts… You just felt lucky you didn’t look crazy talking to thin air.
Even if he was unseen, he was always excited to interact with the locals in one way or another.
“Unfortunately my little ray of sunshine,” he teases again, poking your cheek enough to bring out a huff from your lips. “I can only see the more important facts of the future. Your love life isn’t the same level of importance as a titan breaking free.~”
You, as usual, ignored his teasing, his poking and prodding was something you had been forced to get used to over the years. Despite moving from town to island across Greece, he had always found where you were and his interest meant a strange sort of friendship.
“Really, in all my years of knowing you I haven’t seen you give even a second glance to these people.” His eyes washed over all the crowds in the busy street, but he was no longer content with the choices he had. Now ignoring the boys who he seemed so fond of only seconds before.
“Are my choices not good enough? Don’t tell me you have high standards.” His whining was sarcastic, as it always was. If you didn’t know by the shining golden hair and a bow in his arm you’d think he was Hermes.
Before he could continue his onslaught of “boy talk”, you let your thoughts into his mind as your response.
“You’re one to talk. I think most people know you because of your little adventures of human love.”
Despite your refute, he didn’t back down on his bright smile and insistence of romance. Ignoring your words completely.
“So I am right, you do have high standards. What do you look for in a person? Good looks, godly power? Because I think you’re out of luck.” He gestured to the boys in the market, now completely uninterested in all of them.
All he got in response was a huff of agreement to respond to one of his questions. You would answer, and he was happy since you would usually shut his inquiries down before he could spit them out.
“I guess… somebody who’s willing to help others. But not someone weak, I don’t want to have to protect anyone all the time, I would be too stressed out to ever leave them alone.”
The market was busy, filled with new weapons built in Sparta, comfortable Chitons from Mycenae, and a booth of items from Athens. Greatly known as a city that had many temples for the gods and adored Apollo as one of the main powers, especially his music. So seeing beautifully strung lyres on the cloth of the table was no shock.
“Oh, and someone who likes the arts. A person who can appreciate beauty and passion.”
As you talked you hadn’t realized you picked up one of the lyres, mindlessly tuning the strings and strumming an almost divine tune. Apollo was your music teacher after all.
“I think passion is one of the most important things in the world, for gods or humans. They need to be confident. Not in an egotistical way, but they need to be proud of themselves for their victories either small or large.”
Before you could continue, Apollo was laughing. That wasn’t a good sign, he never laughed unless something was happening and as far as you were concerned it must’ve been recent.
Looking around for the source of the laughter you quieted your mind from your monologue on love… oh.
This whole time you had thought you were just mindlessly tuning the lyre, but instead it was playing a lovely melody. Your fingers seemed to work in muscle memory to create a tune. This was the song you were currently writing… great.
Not only that, but the surrounding crowd at the stalls of bread, wine, and clothes were all watching with looks of confusion and interest.
This sucks. You didn’t ask for this attention.
Before you can place the instrument back down and apologize for touching the equipment of the shop opener, a little girl tugs at the waist of your chiton.
“Excuse me?” Her sweet voice calls out, a small hand having a vice grip on your clothing. She was adorable, who were you to ignore such a nice kid?
“Yes? Is there something you need?” You replied, no longer hearing the laughs of Apollo. In fact, the market sounded much quieter than normal. Still you bent down, getting closer to eye level with the child. Her fist freeing your dress and going shyly behind her back.
“Could you play more music? It was really pretty.” She glanced up at you shyly, before returning her gaze to her feet. Who in their right mind would say no to her?
Probably someone who was asked to play music is a market full of strangers with no prepared songs in mind…
“I appreciate your kindness, but-”
“Please?” Before you could finish a little boy ran up to you next, his eyes even more puppy dog than the girls. “We wanna hear the… the?”
He was pointing at the instrument, now less excited and more confused. His pleading eyes turned curious.
“The lyre, it’s an instrument for playing music.” You explained, petting the boy's head gently. Your smile warmed your cheeks as his excitement returned to his face.
“Play it! Play it!” The two chanted, and now you really couldn’t ignore them.
So you gave in, strumming the strings just as Apollo taught you. Creating a beautiful song of joy, humming mindless lyrics that were yet to be created.
And as you played, the children danced. Left in fits of giggles and spins, song pulling in the rest of the small ones from their mothers side to join the fun. It was adorable, pure childish fun.
You couldn’t help but laugh with them, continuing the song. Watching all their smiling faces with content.
But this break of peace was suddenly broken by a shopkeeper. A man, in middle age, with a scornful expression. Heavy brows furrowed as he glared menacingly over the street. His shoulders held highly over the crowd of children. One of which being tugged at by his burly hands.
“Quit it, you’re blocking the work.” His voice called roughly, commanding the end of joy and ruining the laughter of innocence.
All of the little ones stopped, some running back to their mothers so they could hide behind their legs and others standing frozen at the tall beast of a man.
Without thinking you gently placed the lyre back onto its original stand at its booth and walked up to the man. Gripping his wrist that held the child’s shoulder and tugging the kid free.
“Is there a problem?” You snapped at him, letting go of his wrist and standing straight. The child you freed running to hide behind your legs, watching in fear.
A crowd had gathered, but unfortunately the market rarely had strong men. Either gone for Troy or lazing as suitors in the castle, there was no knight in shining armor. Not that you needed one.
Mothers and their children, as well as older gentlemen and teen boys watched on, pulling away.
“This is a workplace, not a place for play.” He barked back at you, the sun dimming in the sky. Apollo was quick to become unhappy, as he usually was when you were in trouble.
“They’re children, all they do is play.” Retorting, you gestured to the young now hidden in fear. “I am the one you have an issue with.” Your eyes stalked upward into his, cold and unforgiving.
How dare he be so harsh with the innocent souls of the young?
“Maybe you are the one I have an issue with, girl.” He stepped towards you, the air growing thick as if time had stilled and each surrounding audience member had stolen all the oxygen during their bated breath.
“And yet you will do nothing. This is a place for ‘work,’ not ‘play.’” You didn’t step back, instead standing your ground. You continued. “And if that is true, you should get back to work before the day is lost.” The sun glowed behind your head, creating a darker silhouette of your frame.
Unwilling to move, the man stood in stillness for a few seconds. Challenging you with his eyes, but seeing you not back down he just huffed. His chest deflated as his chin wasn’t held as high as it was before. He averted his gaze from you, tearing his eyes to the ground next to you.
“Fine.” Was all he said before he shuffled back to his stall.
As you watched him, the child you pulled from him hugged your leg.
“Thank you.” She sniffled out, nuzzling into your thigh and slightly shaking. It was heartbreaking to observe her fear.
“Everything is okay, sweetheart.” You smiled and pet her head, letting your fingers feel her soft hair. Her tenseness faded away and she slowly let go of your leg, looking up at you with gratitude.
Apollo had made sure the sun was shining bright again. Giving you a proud smile and nodding towards the lyre you once prayed. Insinuating you strum again for the children.
So strum you did, spending the rest of your morning with the children and their mothers of the town singing soft songs of beauty.
If only you had known Queen Penelope would catch wind of this…
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#telemachus epic the musical#telemachus epic#telemachus x reader#telemachus#epic the musical x reader#epic x reader#epic#epic the vengeance saga#epic the wisdom saga#epic odysseus#odyssey
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He would have to learn more about the Cetran heritage, especially now. Sure, he had gotten his fair share of education and lessons on neighbouring kingdoms and their customs. But it would be entirely different now… if all these talks went through, then he would have a wife of Cetran blood. It was the bare minimum respect to know her culture by heart then. And with how Aerith was… it did not seem like work now anymore.
She was kind. She was strong. She was smart. She had wit. She was undeniably beautiful. And… she seemed to like what he could do.
Watching her interact with his magic, how she commented on it and complimented him… it stroked his ego, of course. But it also made something in his chest feel… warmer. As if a vessel was filled with that warm milk and honey she seemed to favour so much.
He was not powerful. And neither was he popular. One day she would notice. But at the moment, she seemed to think he was both. And the way she looked at him…
Somnus turned to her fully. The sword in his hand vanishing alongside all the circling weapons so only a blue shimmering hue was remaining in the air around them, swirling like the tendrils of her Lifestream.
Aerith asked a question that… he was not prepared to answer. Not fully. There were so many things happening at once in the past two days. Less than that, if he was being honest.
As royals, of course an arranged marriage had been at the horizon. But Somnus had thought he would have more time. And maybe a little luck like her parents had. That was rare, though. Marriage was political in their standings. And while there surely were a lot of loveless and barely tolerable marriages among the rulers of this world… maybe, just maybe they both could have had it worse.
So far she had given him no reason to dread a future with her. Not at all… quite the opposite.
The little amused noise coming from him was a gentle one. Softer than his usual demeanour, mustering her with a tilted head and a smile playing around one corner of his mouth.
“I would.”
It was that simple, wasn’t it?
Could he imagine them? Standing there, in the circle of many others. With a priest at their side. They would both wear finer clothes than even last evening’s attire. But quite simple in their own way. Pure whites and the colors of their lands. Surely Aerith would weave flowers into her hair and wear golden bracelets. He would have a wreath of his own, made from the olive twigs of Lucis’ gardens.
He could imagine taking her hands and saying yes.
But that fantasy seemed so unreal still. And so far away. A little too hopefully maybe. And a little too dreamy. This was an arranged marriage, right? So he should handle it with the demanded respect and care. The futures of two lands depended on that.
“… listen, Aerith. I know you hoped for something different. You told me, that you hoped you could marry out of love like your mother did. The talks that now happen without us present, the decisions that were made yesterday did not happen like you wished. Even before that, you came here to marry a stranger man. Now it is not my brother, but me. I hope that is not too much of a disappointment. And I do not know what the future brings… maybe I can not offer you that marriage proposal coming from a secret lover after months of knowing and loving each other. But I will do my best to ensure you have a good life. And I hope one filled with happiness. That I can swear.”
Aerith visibly perked up at his question. Few ever made the connection, so her nod was a rather excited one. "Something like that! I mean..." she gestured to him. "It comes down to your beliefs. What came first, your God, the crystal, or were they completely separate and became entwined with one another?"
She then swept her hand to rest on her own chest. "The Cetra believe that the Lifestream came first. That we draw our power from it. Yet we also believe that Minerva is the Goddess of the Lifestream. She is the voice of our Planet, and its protector. There is a lot of debate among our scholars about when the Goddess appeared, but it is widely accepted that she became one with the Lifestream when a star fell from the sky. It was a tale that always fascinated me, I must admit."
Her mother never grew tired of telling her the story, perhaps because she knew her daughter would one day outgrow asking for the tale.
It took more will power than she would care to admit for her to remain as she was. There was a small pull, where Aerith wished to step forward to close the distance.
That need for space became abundantly clear when Somnus summoned a greatsword from thin air. She gasped a sharp breath at the sight — that was the magic! The one that had danced along her arm. It felt cool, because it was... crystal shards. Fine, blue little specks.
Aerith couldn't even give voice to a tease. She could have pointed out 'that's not a shield you're holding', and good thing she kept that silent. Unable to keep her hand to herself, she immediately reached out, curious about the shift of magic in front of herself — a shield, existing faintly, pulled from the crystal?
His comment drew her attention to him again, if briefly. "Whoa!" she reacted, her mouth dropped open. A laugh bubbled up as she half-circled him, admiring the spectacle that was his whole armoury on display.
"This is amazing! Are you sure you aren't a god?!" she practically crowed, testing her luck as she reached for the shield. It altered its gentle path, and she was allowed to 'hold' it long enough to witness the pulse of more detail. Letting it go again she watched it easily drift back onto its path circling around Somnus.
Like a child chasing a wave, she challenged the circle by stepping through when lesser-sharp weapons were in front of her, and they parted harmlessly, no sharp edges ever coming close to touching so much as a hair on her.
"When we're standing at an altar, and some ancient priest asks whether you will marry me — would you consider saying yes?" she smiled to him a little hopelessly. Honestly. He was the hidden gem of the Lucis kingdom.
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can we may have a part 6 off this story https://www.tumblr.com/yaut-jaknowit/765272759572021248/can-we-see-how-gawtin-got-caughtlost-her?source=share
Injuries Shall Be Healed
Pairings: Gawtin (Female Yautja) x GN!Reader
Word Count: 2449
Summary: After the encounter with the facility, Gawtin is able to retrieve her gear and ship. But, you are hurt in the process
Author Note: I feel at this point, I might as well write a whole novel about the first time meeting Gawtin and such. lol
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Ao3
Part 0.5 | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (You are here)
Pain has become a constant thing ever since Gawtin has entered your life. From being shot the first time and killing two people to save her. To now, where you are clenching your teeth so hard they may crack. Dirt cakes under your nails, fingers digging for purchase. Anything to give you relief for the agony you dwelled in. You wanted it to stop!
Weight was set on your chest. It threw you off. Your eyes opened to find a green, blabbering glob lying there. The child was laid down. Strong, capable arms pulled you up, off the ground and cradled you to a warm chest. You couldn’t help but snuggle towards the head, using it as a distraction.
Tears streamed down your cheeks, wetting the scales you were pressed to. Sobs broke the silence the engulfed the trio. Deep down, where you still had the chance to think, you knew making noise was bad. Yet, you couldn’t help the agony that ran its course.
Each sway of Gawtin’s step causes the broken portion of one of your legs to swing. You curled towards the giant, green alien, trying to hold back any sounds. The task was proven to be impossible. No human or creature alive could stay quiet while in this kind of pain. Your teeth creaked as you attempted to hold it together.
In your lap, laid Qui-oky. The yellow-green child was looking up at you with big, sky-blue eyes. He was adorable. You brough a shaky hand to rest on his back and used him as an anchor. Though he had made the noise that originally got you hurt, you weren’t made at him. You were thankful he was alive and unharmed. Gawtin had come back just in time to save you two from death. That would mean the two of you were even. There was no reason for her to keep saving you. You eyed her for a millisecond.
The forest foliage only last at most five minutes before she had to shift you around in her arms. A whine built up in your throat, you tensed up, hands turning into fists. Gawtin pressed a button on her gauntlet. A minute beep came from the armor. Then, a machinal hiss sounded through the foliage. You weakly turned your head towards the noise. The plants and trees block your view for a few more steps.
Gawtin stepped out into a small clearing close to the facility. That’s when you saw a space craft. An alien space ship. It was Gawtin’s. This was the gear she was talking about. Was she going to take you in there? Where would she take you next? Because, these people head to know who you were by now. They probably when through all of your stuff. Oh, your home… The thing you worked so hard for. You were sadden by the thought of never being able to return. Where will you go next?
The interior of the space craft wasn’t what you were thinking. It was similar to ones you’ve seen in Star Wars and Star Trek. This felt… more homey. Gawtin had put lots of love and care into decorating the inside. With furs and skins of creatures she’s hunted. All proudly displayed for any guests to see.
It will have to be a later date you would be able to appreciate them.
You’re carried all the way inside. The alien takes you into a room not far from the entrance. You are barely awake enough to know she had taken you from outside to inside. You make a grumbling noise when sets you down on a cot like bed. It forms to your body, supporting the aches and pains. You look up at her now. Qui-oky is scooped off of you and into his mother’s arms. Gawtin turns takes her leave quickly. Weakly, you reached to stop her from abandoning you. The door closes behind her.
Silence engulfs your lonely self. Pain engulfs you. All you had now was to think about everything. The broken leg to both gun shot wounds. To the fact you had almost died to day. So close to having your brains spilled. Gawtin had stopped that from happening. Death was so close. Very, very close.
After everything, you didn’t have any energy left to cry, to sob your heart out. Tears silently slipped down the sides of your face. Out of everything you’ve survived these last few days, you were going to die. Alone. Abandoned. You took a stuttering deep breath in and released. Your eyes softly close then sleep took a hold of you.
Stinging unbearable pain snaps you from your sleep. You jolt awake and thrash about. All of your limbs strike and smash like a mad man. Something gripped both of your wrists and pinned them above your head. Only one hand was required. The other one held down one of your legs. It felt heavier than usual.
Screams pierced the air. The sound echoing back in thundering waves. You kept the fight on and used the adrenaline rush as an advantage. Bit it was worthless against the beast holding you down.
The energy you once had left you quickly. Soon enough, you were a panting, sweaty mess. Nothing had working. It was pointless. You laid there and stared blankly up at the ceiling.
A huff came from the green alien hovering over your prone body. With one hand holding you down one of your legs, she uses it to grab some gauze. You watched as Gawtin ties your wrists together and to the cot. Satisfied, she let’s go and goes to work on you again. You gaze down at your lower part of the body. A blue, strange open cats bind your leg up. It didn’t fully encase like a normal cast would do. It had large holes. Where you could see a white gauze where the majority of the breath was.
Now, Gawtin worked on the bullet hole in your other thigh. Of course both of them had to get shot. Why wouldn’t that be your luck?
“Stay still. I am fixing your wounds.” Oh, so she hadn’t left you to die in here. That was relieving. You sighed a deep breath of relief and let your eyes shut. Until the pain came back in full force. A sobbing cry pierced the silence again. You tried to thrash again, fight against Gawtin. But, your hands were tied. All she had to do was lay across your lap, only using her side and weight. Then, she could proceeded to continue to work on your thigh. The fight left you quickly.
Once Gawtin deemed you patched up enough, she stepped back. You cracked open an eye with a groan. “What happened? Why did that hurt so much?” you grumbled and tried to shift out of the improv restraints but failed. Your brain was heavily scrambled, unable to think straight.
She goes over to a sink and begins to wash her hands. “You had been shot. Your leg was broken as well.” Right. The facility that had originally held her. The same place that held her gear and ship. That’s why you’re here now. It’s not like you would be able to be much help in the state you were in.
There was hope blooming in your chest the longer she stared at you. Then, Gawtin turned and strode towards the door. “I will be back.” A little bit of umph was place on that ‘will’. Like she read the pure fear in your eyes. She was out the door before you could find the words. Your hands clenched into fists, angry and hurt at the same time.
After all the tings you’ve done for her, this is how she treats you. Now, she made you angry.
With a grunt, you heave yourself into a sitting up position. The slight ache that produced was nothing to what you’ve endured. You carefully slide off of the cot and leaned heavily against it. The broken leg was hard to walk on. The pain it gave couldn’t be dwelled by the drugs. You gritted your teeth then pushed off. Most of your weight was on the less injured leg.
Well, if she didn’t bring you along, then you’ll force her to.
Your broken leg was slightly lifted and place down. Then, you shifted your weight onto it. Suddenly, you find yourself on the ground, looking at the metal, textured floor. Up close and personal. You stared at it for a few confused moments. “Ow,” you grumbled and slowly dragged yourself back into a standing position.
Another attempt was given. Only to wind up on the ground again. That’s when you realize getting up is a lot harder than the first time. You had used up the last of your energy. All you were able to do is lie there, staring at the blank ceiling. You closed your eyes. That become your downfall, losing yourself to exhaustion.
The next time you woke up, you felt a soft breeze washing over you. An eye was cracked open. To find Gawtin lifting you effortlessly into the air and placed you back down on the cot again. You hummed softly and tried to nuzzle closer to her in your sleep deprived brain.
Pillows were set up behind you and forced you to stay seated up. It was comfortable to sit like this. A thin, soft sheet was draped over your legs to offer some warmth after loosing much of your heat. You scanned around the room and saw a bowl of what looked to be soup. Your stomach growled, loudly. Heat flushed to your cheeks. You didn’t expect to be that hungry.
Gawtin snorted, mandibles twitching, then reaches over to the bowl. The giant alien sits down on the cot with the soup in hand. You looked at her funnily, still a bit droopy. What in the world was she doing? A spoon is picked up then scooped up some of the soup. Her steady hands brings it to your mouth. You opened up, not even fighting that she’s feeding you. She had abandoned you earlier. It’s the least she could do after that.
The taste washed over your taste buds. You swallowed down the bitter first spoon full and made a face. One Gawtin wasn’t surprised to see. She quirked a mandible up in a smirk. You scowled at her, face twisted with disgust. “That’s so bitter!” you complained and didn’t let her get another spoonful in. You turned your head away with crossed arms.
“It is good for you. It will help get your strength back. It has healing properties.” You didn’t care if it did. The bitterness made it hard to swallow without gagging. You continued to give her a special look.
“It’s gross. Thank you, but no thank you. I’ve suffered enough for the last few days with you.” Consider is harsh. But you didn’t want to eat it. Yes, you were thankful. She even made something for you, still. If you can’t swallow it, what are you going to do?
A single brow was raised at. One look any person would know. The mom look. There was no defeating her. You were stubborn though. If you could, your foot would’ve come down. Setting the line so she can’t cross it.
Well, until she’s smart enough to pinch your nose. Constant air flow was stopped. Instinctively, you opened your mouth to breath normally again. Gawtin swooped in with a full spoon and put the contents in your mouth. You winced at the assault of the taste again. But, you don’t dare spit it out. Instead, you forced yourself to swallow it down. Gross.
A full body shiver wracks through your frame as you felt the bite slid down your throat. Bile wanted to curl up the length of your throat. Somehow, you are able to stop it and bit that back as well. “Wha-ack?!” Stupidly, you had opened your mouth to speak and got a mouth full of soup. Again. Once more, you had to stop from spitting it all out into her face. It was food. And you were tired and hungry.
“Can I at- “She shoved another spoon full of more soup as you blabbered again. Alrighty, listen learned: don’t try to talk when Gawtin is threatening to feed you. The alien has no mercy on you. Especially injured.
It took a full thirty minutes for you to finish up the bowl. The bitter, foul taste of it made it difficult to swallow peacefully. You slapped your lips together with an awful expression, ready for something to wash down the taste.
“Ugh, what was that?” you asked, voice harsh. The blanket draped over the lower portion of your body was pulled higher. As if you could hide away from Gawtin and any more soup.
The alien grunted and set the bowl down to the side. On her belt, she unhooked some sort of bag with what sounded to be liquid. Gawtin held it out towards you. A confused look passed over your features the longer you looked at her. There was string attached to a closed end. You pulled on one end of the string and looked inside the open hole.
Water. Glorious, fresh, clean water. Instantly, you gulped down the entire thing. It helped wash away the bitter after taste in your mouth. A deep breath of fresh air was taken in afterwards. You sat there, panting for a moment then looked at her. The large, green Yautja observed your reaction with a hint of amusement in her eyes. A scowl instantly etched into your features.
“That was a Mink soup with added medicine you needed to consume,” Gawtin explained in a neutral tone, hiding the amusement you knew she was feeling for the situation. You wanted to smack her on the arm for the treatment, After everything the two of you have been through. Oh, including the baby as well. Wherever he is. “It’s meant to speed up your healing and will make you sleepy.”
When you mentioned it, you began to feel it soaking into your muscles. They acted less responsive and coordinate. It might have been a placebo effect on you. In the moment, you couldn’t tell. A deep, dozy groan left you. Your entire body felt numb and heavy at the same time. You wanted to speak. There was words on your tongue, ready to be released.
The fluffy, comfy pillows supporting you felt amazing on your bunk. You fully leaned back to make them take your weight. Your head lolled back. Then, you’re out like a light.
#yautja#predator#yautja x reader#yautja x you#alien vs predator#predator x reader#yautja x human#predator x you#predator x human#x reader
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Herman Melville
Herman Melville (1819 – 1891) was a 19th-century American author of novels, short stories and poetry. He is best known for his novel Moby Dick, published in 1851, and his short stories Bartleby the Scrivner and Billy Budd, Sailor. Despite his early successes as a novelist, Melville died in 1891 in relative obscurity.
Early Life
Herman Melville, the third oldest of eight children, was born on August 1, 1819 in New York City. His paternal and maternal grandfathers were both Revolutionary War heroes — a point of pride in the Melville household. His father, Allan Melvill (the “e” would be added in the 1830s) looked proudly on his family’s heritage, tracing it to the Scottish Renaissance. Melville’s mother, Maria Gansevoort, was of Dutch descent. The young Melville spent his youth living in luxury. His father was a dry-goods merchant who tended to live beyond his means. He alternated between enthusiasm for the future of business in America and the fear of a recession. This nagging fear caused him to borrow money from his wife’s family. In 1832 Allan Melvill fell ill and died in a delirium, leaving his family heavily in debt and dependent on Maria’s family for financial help.
At the age of twelve Melville left school and began working a number of menial jobs: clerking at a bank and later at his brother Gansevoort’s fur-cap store. In 1837 he moved to Pittsfield, Massachusetts to run his Uncle Thomas Melville’s farm. Thomas had gone west seeking greener pastures in Galena, Illinois — pastures he would never find. At the age of 18 and unemployed, Melville briefly taught in a country school near Pittsfield. The following spring he took a course in surveying and engineering at the Lansingburgh Academy in Albany, but the Panic of 1837 left him without work. Unemployed at the age of 20, and following the example of one of his cousins, he signed on as a cabin boy on a ship bound for Liverpool – an experience he would recount in his novel Redburn.
After returning home aboard the St. Lawrence, Melville again failed to find employment. Seeking further adventure, and possible employment, in June of 1840, he and his friend Eli Fly headed west to Galena where Uncle Thomas proved to be of no help. They travelled down the Mississippi to the Ohio River and then eastward back to New York. In January of 1841, at the age of 21, Melville took “desperate measures” and signed on with the Acushnet, a whaler out of New Bedford, bound for the South Seas. Melville would be gone for almost four years. It was a time that he considered as an education. It would provide him with enough experiences for four relatively successful novels and one not so successful.
Herman Melville, c. 1846
Asa Weston Twitchell (Public Domain)
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