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bunny-lily · 10 months ago

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Satoru, who...

Did you ask for more fluff? I did, ehe~

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

CW: pure fluff, just fluff, no angst, only happiness | proposal, marriage, pregnancy, husband!Gojo, dad!Gojo, soft!Gojo, categorically fucking whipped Satoru, domesticity, kinda slice-of-life, mildly suggestive at the end

The starstruck boy, Gojo Satoru, who is utterly obsessed with you in every way possible.

AN: while I’m in the middle of writing an absurdly long fic, I wanted to post some shorter stuff to 1) keep my hands loose and brain active/busy, and 2) post something while I’m working on the fic to come. I won’t post much about it rn because I want to actually finish it first and not make any promises, so enjoy a lil fluff in the meantime <3 just something short and sweet

WC: 3k

Satoru, who is smitten with you from the very moment he first lays eyes on you. Sure, he's had infatuations before, but they were short-lived and typically lasted no longer than a week. A quick fascination, then poof. You, on the other hand – you are different.

And it is plain to see for pretty much everyone. He is normally cocky and outgoing, even during the little fads he’s had, he never let down his façade of bravado. You, though? You melt all his walls until he’s a goopy puddle of a blushing, giggling school girl.

He is whipped, almost to an annoying point. He rambles off Suguru's and Shoko's ears enough times for them to know when he’s about to start singing your praises and avoid him, or distract him somehow (which is a monumental task when his ditzy head is full only of thoughts of you).

Even so, they are conflictingly bewildered and happy for their friend. For him to have found someone that he is interested in for longer than a week – let alone several months, now – is a riveting change of pace. He seems so genuinely delighted any time you two interact, bubbly, dreamy sighs leaving him as hearts dance in his eyes.

He has fallen for you bad.

Satoru, who’s a stuttering disaster when he tries to ask you out on a date, and damn near collapses in relief when you’re able to decipher what the hell he’s going on about and agree to go to the new café that opened up near campus with him.

One date turns into two, then three, then a dozen more that become routine for you. You meet up after classes let out, then head to the café side by side. Or, if one is running late, you have each other’s orders memorized. You even go the extra mile and order him a sweet he hasn’t tried yet to surprise him with when he bursts into the establishment, panting like he ran a marathon. He might as well have, he booked it for the café as soon as he was free, dying to see you.

Satoru, who is somehow in even more shambles when he gets the nerve to ask you to go steady with him, despite the two of you being borderline boyfriend and girlfriend by now. He’s jittery, sweaty, downright vibrating with tense energy when he brings you to the sakura tree near the back of school that you two had laid claim on. Oh, and when you say yes? He’s certain he’s died and gone to heaven. Nothing can explain how an angel like you decided to grace him with your existence as is, let alone love him – even while you called him an idiot and said you thought you two were already dating.

Satoru, who was already protective over you when you first met, dials it to eleven after you agree to being his girlfriend. Gojo Satoru, the strongest man alive, could inspire fear and respect simply by being in the room with his confident and brash nature, completely relaxed and faithful in his skill. But if, gods forbid, something happens to you? Gone is that cocksure attitude. Gone are the coy smirks and passive-aggressive taunting meant to rile others up. Gone is everything but his one track mind that focuses solely on two tasks: protecting you, and destroying whatever harmed you.

Satoru, who spoons you to his chest and watches ASMR, random videos, or movies on your phone with you 'til you both fall asleep. It became routine shortly after you began officially dating. You'll climb into bed first and decide what you want to watch while he finishes his nightly regimen, then he'll slip under the blankets and pull your back flush against his front, prop his chin atop your head, slide a thigh between your legs, and off to cozy dreamland you two go as whatever you choose acts as white noise.

It brings him an immense amount of comfort, and though he doesn't need as much sleep as normal folks, he'll refuse to leave bed until you're awake (with the exception of any needs he might have to take care of that will only see him away for a couple minutes at most before he’s cradling you in his protective hold again).

Satoru, who salts and peppers your face with endless, ticklish kisses to wake you up, saving the best kiss for when your sleepy, pretty little eyes open: right on your lips. He always wakes up before you do, and spends hours watching your blissful, precious face as you snooze, content and relaxed like a cat with full trust in its human. The comparison always makes him smile, because he, truthfully, envisions you both as being cats all the time. Lazy ones that cuddle in the sun, your smaller form using his ridiculously fluffy and larger one as a pillow-slash-blanket. His tail twined with yours, your ears twitching as he grooms you with kitten licks, ah, the dream.

Satoru, who wants to slap a ring on your finger the very moment he can. You two spend so many days and weeks raving about your imaginary wedding that he so desperately wants to be real, setting up plans, picking out what you would want for decor, scrolling through forum boards for ideas on a wedding dress for you. He is practically more excited at the prospect of getting married than you are, eager to help in every step of the process and more. 'Let me handle all the hard stuff, baby,' he nearly begs.

He won’t tell you the cost of anything, and insists you go all out. Get the dress you want, don't you dare look at the price tag. Choose the perfect venue, he doesn't care if it's in Japan or fucking Dubai, he'll handle paying for everyone's travel and hotel needs on top of the whole wedding. Only the absolute best for you, nothing less, everything more.

Satoru, who is a train wreck of nervous excitement, anxious anticipation, and giddy trepidation when the day comes for him to propose. He takes you to the perfect location – up a short and easy hiking trail that leads to a cliffside with the most magnificent view of the ocean and setting sun. You think it's just a sweet date trip, until you see the path of tea candles guiding you to a romantically set up picnic blanket, a basket resting atop it, waiting to be opened.

When you turn around to express your shock and confusion, you find Satoru on one knee, looking up at you as if you are the most gorgeous and divine creature to ever exist. He's confident and boisterous, as always, as he plays out his little speech about how much he adores you and wants to keep you by his side, forever and ever, but he's a shaking trash fire inside. A shivering little dog that's relieved he didn't stutter or screw up the speech he practiced a hundred times over and then some.

Satoru, who's thanking every god to ever possibly reside above (and even below) when you throw your arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder as a flood of yeses pours out of you, slurred as you ramble through your tears and tell him you love him, how happy you are, and a plethora of other things that make him genuinely the most elated person to ever live.

Satoru, who slides the brilliant engagement ring he had custom made for you onto your finger; smooth, with an inset blue diamond that shares the same shade as his eyes, nestled in with a dozen tinier crystals in vine-like spirals flowing outward from the center. Swarovski, of course. He made sure that it was all flush with the platinum to ensure it wouldn't snag on anything.

He was practically breathing down the jeweler's neck during the entire process, needing to guarantee it’s positively perfect for you. And, when he sees the glimmering jewelry cozy on your finger, the evidence of your bond and the next step in your journey to unite as one, he knows he made all the right choices.

Satoru, who only uses the finest material for your matching wedding bands, and has the insides of both engraved with each other's names. Yours in his, his in yours. He has the same jeweler as before (poor guy) design them to have two stripes of platinum within the gold of your rings, delicate and stunning for himself and his wife.

Satoru, who's jubilant and so incredibly ecstatic that you're now his wife that he can't help but tell everyone he knows, everyday, multiple times a day, even those that were at the wedding. He just can't get over it. You're his wife, the girl he's been crushing on since highschool, the girl he swore to make his, and to devote himself to. It feels like an incredible dream, and he worriedly pinches himself from time to time to make sure it's real.

He did it. He married you, and now you carry his name in yours, in your wedding band, everywhere he could put it to subtly (not really) show you off as the unquestionably precious treasure you are, his wife, and how overjoyed he is that he managed to catch you and keep you.

Satoru, who forgets how to function when you hold up a pair of white and pink sticks on his birthday, from different brands, both showing positive symbols. You. You're pregnant. With his baby. He swears his brain short-circuits because one minute, he's staring at you like you'd grown a second head, and the next, he has you wrapped up in his arms as he showers your forehead, cheeks, nose, jaw, lips, neck, ears, anywhere he can reach, with kisses.

He's a babbling, sniffly mess as he practically crushes you to his chest and coos and preens and weeps with elation. He reveres you like a deity and he’s your loyal and pathetic servant who was blessed beyond measure that you decided to give him the gift of life. He's going to be a father, and it's all because of you.

Satoru, who completely spoils the living hell out of you during your pregnancy (as if he hadn't already been), bending backwards for you for everything. Weird cravings? He's on it. Swollen ankles and nausea? He's rushing to the store for medicine, then rubbing your feet to ease the ache. Insatiable horniness? He's your slave for you to use for your pleasure. Hormones swinging wildly back and forth? He's there with a box of tissues and his firm chest for you to beat on when you feel like you're going crazy. It's his fault you're pregnant, after all. You're doing the hard work of not just carrying his child, but of nurturing it, growing it, letting it take from you to develop strong and healthy. Of course he's going to take care of you.

Satoru, who refuses to let you do any work. You're on indefinite parental leave. From the moment you show him those positive tests, he sits your pretty ass down on the couch and tells you firmly that your only job now is to help your baby develop. He'll take care of everything else, don't even think about lifting a finger.

Satoru, who's there at every appointment with you, clutching your hand tightly as you talk to your doctor about everything you need to know. And when you have your first ultrasound, and see your fetus together for the very first time, he's crying right alongside you.

Satoru, who spent meticulous hours packing a duffel bag with everything you'll both need for when it comes time for you to go into labor. Spare changes of clothes, plenty of water, blankets to keep you warm, a couple pillows, anything and everything. He refuses to go in unprepared. As soon as it's all packed and ready to go by the 8 month mark of your pregnancy, it's in the backseat of the car. The baby car seat is in the trunk of the sleek and top-of-the-line SUV he purchased specifically for your soon-to-be family. He doesn't care that it's taking up space, or that it’s too early, he refuses to go in unprepared.

Satoru, who immediately ditches work the very instant your water breaks. Who gives a fuck if he's in the middle of something important, nothing takes precedence over you and the incoming birth of your infant. He's breaking several driving laws to get you to the hospital, but neither of you care. Not when you're panting in the passenger seat, white-knuckling the grab handle with a palm pressed to your stomach, grunting and crying out in pain any time you have a contraction. It's a miracle he doesn't get pulled over, and he's incredibly thankful (and proud of himself) for thinking of calling the hospital ahead of time so that they're ready for you.

Satoru, whose entire world becomes a blur from the second you reach the hospital, to the second you're crushing his hand in your grip, screaming as you fight to bring his baby into the world. He's letting you yell at him and blame him for the pain you're in, easily accepting and agreeing because it is his fault.

But while your shaking sobs and shrieks of agony wound his heart beyond any possible measure, he also can't help his elation at knowing it's time, all the waiting has been worth it, every minute spent catering to your every need, want, and desire. He'll do it indefinitely, wait on you hand and foot for the rest of his life, treat you like a queen, because you deserve it and so much more.

Satoru, who's shocked by how well he's holding up when the nurse puts the wrapped up, pudgy little newborn in his arms, gazing down at the tiny being. His tiny being, your tiny being, the fragile and priceless life you both created. Looking down at his kin, his reason for being, he knows he'd do anything and everything to protect you and your child.

Satoru, who sees you, a disheveled and tired disaster, with your hair all tangled, frizzy, and astray, strands stuck to your sweaty skin, your body slack in relief as the hardest part is finally over, watching your husband hold your baby, and he thinks you're more beautiful now than you've ever been.

You look like you’ve been dragged through hell; your legs are sticky with residue blood, amniotic fluid, placenta, and whatever else that needs to be cleaned off (though your legs are covered with a few layers of blankets to keep you toasty warm while you recover from labor), your face is a little pale and sallow, you're barely clinging to consciousness, and he's marveling at how he's never seen anything or anyone as utterly blest and sacred as you.

A goddess amongst men, the only one the strongest man in the world would ever willingly bow down to without you even needing to ask.

Satoru, who helps place your baby on your chest, the nurse having opened the blanket for skin-to-skin contact as you feed it, and finally lets himself release all his pent up emotions of raw, unfiltered joy. Every cell, every fiber, every atom in him is dancing in overwhelming happiness. He'd do it all over, again and again, as many times as you'd let him, if it means he gets to see you this blissful and tranquil. The glow of maternity suits you like no other, even in all your unkempt and chaotic glory.

Satoru, who can't believe he's a dad. He goes above and beyond, insisting he takes care of the baby at night so you can sleep – he doesn't need as much rest as others do, after all. He murmurs to his newborn about how much he cherishes and adores you, how much you mean to him, how you're the best wife and mommy a man could ever ask for and more. He reads the kiddo bedtime stories to help it sleep, feeds it, changes it, whatever it is that is needed, he's there and doing it.

On top of that, he continues to be your doting, devoted, caring husband. He makes sure you're taking your vitamins, takes you to all your postpartum appointments, aids you through your subsequent depression, all of it. He's sworn himself to you for life, not just in this timeline and universe, but in any and every single one of them.

He made and said his vows with purpose and conviction. He meant every word, and upholds them like his life depends on it. Because, in his mind, it does.

Satoru, who is patient with you, and firmly commands you to not push yourself to do things you can't do while you're still in recovery. He doesn't care if he has to wait months or even years for you to be ready to lay with him again, he'll wait it out. He might not be a patient man, but for you, he'd wait until all the stars die.

Oh, but you, darling little minx that you are, do your best to take care of him, too. Even when he urges you to rest, or not worry about it, or anything other arguments he might have against it, you tend to him in whatever way you can. Touching, sucking, rough and heavy petting, whatever it takes. You refuse to leave him alone to suffer through months and months of dryness with no relief save for his hand and the toy you surprised him with to help take the edge off.

Satoru, who can't be more grateful to you. You're more than his wildest dreams, the perfect wife, the perfect mother, the perfect person as a whole in the entirety of the universe. He really can't help boasting about being the Chosen One, because he really is, if the cosmos decided to gift him with you.

Satoru, who swears to take care of you for the rest of your lives, and does well on his promise.

Satoru, who fights for the sake of you and your kin alone. He refuses to leave you in any way, shape, or form. He refuses to let the world be a danger to any of you. He refuses to have anything happen to his family. Nothing will tear you apart, not now, not ever.

Satoru, who loves you more than the sun, the moon, and all the stars combined.

—-—-•(-•ʚɞ•-)•—-—-

Banner by cafekitsune ♥ thank you for reading

#gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #fluff #chimera-writes #dad!gojo #husband!gojo

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novantinuum · 1 year ago

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Steven's Breakdown Was Inevitable From the Very Beginning

I feel like the thing that fucks me up the most about Steven Q. Universe and how well conceived he is as a character is that the fundamental building blocks of why he reached his breaking point in SU: Future were laid out as clear as day in the span of legit only the first four episodes of the original show. The writing was literally always on the wall that future him would struggle with matters of self worth and identity in relationship to the others around him.

Let's take a look:

Gem Glow

"Awesome! What are these things?"

Foundational Trauma #1: Steven's home is always either under threat or actively being wrecked by antagonistic forces/beings, and he constantly copes with this by pushing down his fear in favor of a curiosity and silver linings based mindset.

Look at his initial shock when he opens the door and gets tackled by one of these things, and then his response when one of them spits acid:

The kid's freaked the hell out about all this, and while I do think there's a part of Steven that genuinely IS curious about what these lil critters are, I think he's subconsciously using that curiosity as a way to distract himself from his own fears and anxieties. This is Steven actively learning how to ignore the deeper problems in favor of emoting a facade to the others in his life that he can totally handle himself in scary situations like these.

The underlying reason why is incredibly apparent, when you look at the example from the next episode-

Laser Light Canon

"I don't know what a magic lady like her ever saw in a plain old dope like me..."

Genuinely- from the bottom of my heart- I think the above quote from Greg is a moment where his own insecurities around the Gems actually rubbed off on Steven.

At this point in time, Steven may be living with the Gems... but he hasn't started to harness any of his powers at all, so in his own head he might as well be the same as his dad- another human, just one who happens to have a gem! But the way Greg talks about himself... given Steven was living with him in the van for years before moving in to the beach house, he had to have heard negative self-talk from his dad like this before.

And then there's the rest of the Crystal Gems... always speaking of Rose with such reverence as if she were an all-powerful goddess... and Steven can't help but look back at himself, and his gem that won't work... the gem that the others still identify as Rose's...

"Your gem-! You have Rose's gem!"

And maybe he starts to wonder if- without any working powers- he's just a plain ol' dope like his Dad, too.

"Please work... Unlock! Activate! Go! Please-!! Everyone's counting on you, you can't just be useless!"

Foundational Trauma #2: Steven has Rose's gem, and as such, is constantly living under the silent expectation to live up to a standard that he simply cannot ever hope to achieve, because he doesn't KNOW her and he never will.

I want to highlight one of Steven's expressions while his dad is talking about Rose- look at that sad look. My god, I just wanna hug him. This is the expression of a child who has already come to terms with the fact that his only relationship with his mom is through the rose tinted stories that other people tell him about her.

Cheeseburger Backpack

So. Steven has learned so far that he needs to push down his feelings and emote a false veneer of cheer and bravery even when he's afraid, because the rest of the people in his life have expectations and hopes for him due to the legacy of his parentage and he can't bear the thought of letting them down. (And in a sad way, at this point "letting them down" literally just means... being an ordinary human boy. I believe Steven at this stage of the show is flat out scared to be human, because to be human is to fail at being a Gem, and no amount of love and sacrifice in the name of humanity in the seasons to come could've ever saved him from the fundamental fact that the wedge between him and this whole half of his being was already drawn long before the events of season 1 even started. But I digress.)

Let's see where we go from there. Let's check out Steven's first "mission." Or as Pearl puts it about 35 episodes later, his first "test."

"Yeah... they can't all be winners."

This episode is tinted with a little bit of tragedy for me on rewatch, because I genuinely do think the Gems handled the situation as well as they could've. They were supportive of Steven's successful ploys, and (for the most part) responded with grace when he majorly blundered and left the Goddess Statue at home. The main problem, however, is that Steven has already developed a bit of a complex about impressing the three of them-

Foundational Trauma #3: Even when they claim otherwise, Steven has convinced himself that affection from the Gems is transactional, and that when he messes up he's not truly a part of the Crystal Gems.

Of course we the audience know this isn't true- I mean, hell, Amethyst even said as much in episode one after her slip-up ("and you're fun to have around, even if your gem IS useless!")... that the Crystal Gems wouldn't be the same without him. But Steven... the poor kid is a complicated little guy living a complicated life, and whether they intended it or not, the language used they've used around him thus far has not backed up their attempts at fully embracing him, human parentage and all.

Thus, Steven just spends the entire episode wracked with anxiety trying to find creative non-power using ways to make the mission easier so he can convince them he's useful to have around.

Look how nervous he gets even when all three of them are visibly and vocally supportive of his presence here:

This is the face of a boy who feels like he's under constant judgement and scrutiny from those around him.

Blessedly, viewing this episode in isolation, he experiences a brief moment of mental respite where he finally accepts the Gems' encouragement and agrees that his ideas 'can't all be winners,' but this lesson does not stick for him moving forward. A shame, really.

Together Breakfast

"What's the matter, Steven?" "I wanted us all to have breakfast together, so I made Together Breakfast! But everyone keeps leaving..." "Oh, that's nice..."

Taken in context with what we've learned already in the last three episodes, Steven's desperation to spend quality time with the Gems here and his sadness that they keep leaving him alone doesn't just exist within a vacuum. He spends the whole morning watching them shuffle in and out of the temple, or come back from missions he wasn't invited on, and with the disastrous result of the LAST mission he went on probably fresh in his mind it's not hard to understand why this bothers him.

Foundational Trauma #4: Steven internalizes that the price of "not being useful" is that the Gems actively ignore him, meaning that the only way to guarantee their attention is to work as hard as he can to become a stronger member of the team.

I know this screenshot is usually used as a lighthearted meme, but I wanted to include it because I think it's a good example of how Steven's intense desire to impress permeates every facet of his personality at times. Just LOOK at how desperate he is to make Garnet laugh at his joke, to be the one that's at very least "fun to have around," as Amethyst put it in episode one.

The Gems do eventually drop what they're doing to spend time with Steven by the conclusion of this episode, but this only comes after Steven shows his growing strength and "proves" himself by saving their butts from the breakfast monster.

If he successfully gained their attention in literally any other way he might've come away from this episode with a different lesson, but no. Instead, his fears were proven true- the Gems value strength and utility, and if he's not exhibiting that, then what use is he to them?

These fears of his can be seen weaving throughout the foundational fabric of the entire show, but I think Steven lays out what he sees as his "stakes" in the clearest way possible in the episode 'An Indirect Kiss.'

"But- if I don't have powers, then I can't hang out with Amethyst, or Garnet, o-or Pearl, and- I-I can't go on missions!"

And these same insecurities even rear their ugly head as late as the movie.

"I can't believe this... for the first time in years, everyone's in danger, everybody needs me, and- I'm useless!"

Powers = Utility = Worth = Other's love, for Steven. Everything is transactional to the end, which is a hilarious double standard he's set for himself when he's made his reputation as the kid who always listens and encourages and gives others a chance to change, no matter their messy history with him.

So let's recap and restate those foundational traumas from Steven's perspective.

One: The only way to cope when your life is constantly under threat is to bury the damage and pretend to be fine.

Two: Everyone expects you to live up to the standards of someone you're not.

Three: The Gems only love you when you're of use to them.

Four: If you ever stop being useful, the Gems won't want anything more to do with you.

In sum, Steven's habit of burying his feelings for the benefit of others was there from the very beginning, not just since 'The Test.'

Those unreachable standards he felt so daunted and intimidated by all his life were the ones set by Rose, at first... but over the course of the series, the dynamic of this shifted. As Rose's influence fell into the background, Steven's rose into the front. And so it's with great irony that- by the time of Steven Universe: Future, the expectations this exhausted, worn down teenager is fighting to once again achieve are the ones HE set for himself. Many of young Steven's selfless actions during the war are quite admirable when analyzed in isolation, but almost none of them are sustainable. He set himself on fire just to save the world, but teen Steven is genuinely unable to see this for what it is yet- as a tragic sacrifice of his own childhood. You can't burn your own ends for others forever, not at all. His breakdown was simply inevitable.

When it comes to the interconnected beliefs three and four, these are exactly why the ultimate confrontation at the end of I Am My Monster HAD to be one fueled by selfless love. Steven is at his absolute lowest at this point- he's everything he fears he's become, trapped in a form that's nearly incapable of reason. He's big and angry and spiky because that's a part of the facade- because a part of him WANTS to scare the Gems away, wants to be left alone forever, believing this the fate he deserves as price for his misdeeds.

In this form, by his own definitions he is NOT useful to the Crystal Gems at all.

But they don't care.

Because it never WAS about Steven's 'usefulness' to them, they simply love him for being Steven.

With this in mind, the conclusion of Steven Universe: Future wasn't just a salve to teen Steven's immediate struggles, it was a salve to the foundational insecurities that have been plaguing him his entire life.

And hopefully... from this point on... his family's shows of love and encouragement will be enough to finally convince Steven that he's more than worth their time...

No matter what path the future leads him on, and no matter what form he takes.

#su #su future #steven universe #su meta #my post stuff

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hotheadedhero · 5 months ago

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First Date

'Like 'em Big Series'

AN: Wow, wow, WOW! You guys went haywire for 'Like 'em Big', didn't ya? I have yet again been surprised at the popularity of something that started as a joke. Thank you all for your patience and showing the love, it really warms my heart as always 🙏 Without further ado, here's part two ❤️(I'd also like to preface that I haven't been on a first date in years, so I apologise :'])

Part 1

All characters are aged up

Raphael x Reader

Warnings: Brief mention of ROTTMNT Movie, near peril (again), meddlesome brothers, cute idiots being cute

Returning home after the mind-boggling excursion you endured had tired you out to the point of near collapse. Yet, you couldn’t sleep after everything that happened. Your mind was racing. Not because you were nearly eaten. Not because you had met a giant turtle. Not even because you found that same turtle adorably attractive. No. It’s because you were fool-hardy enough to give him your number and after you embarrassingly called him beautiful, no less. More often than not, your overzealousness has been your downfall and you wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case here.

Universal blessings had other things in mind. The beacons lit, your prayers answered, and hope restored before your weary brain has a chance to sink - a text - and the chime of that first notification is a sweet melody indeed. All of that karmic debt seems to have been paid off. About time. Again, you won’t get too ahead of yourself but this is already a good start. And, so entails days of messaging, sneaking texts on work shifts, leg-kicking with the gushy motions, and downright losing your mind over how sweet this guy is.

As for Raph, this is uncharted territory; a piece of ocean he never dreamed he’d sail because he never thought it would be accessible to someone like him. He finds himself terrified of the mornings, worried that you’ll wake up with your senses and realise who - what - you’re talking to. Such concerns immediately disappear when he opens his phone to see a routine ‘Good morning’ paired with a heart or kiss.

During this time of exchanging pleasantries, he has been falling ever so gracefully for the character that makes up your person. He’s amazed by how bold you are in your messages during the times he shies away out of fear. It’s probably no surprise that a gorgeous lady such as yourself has at least some experience in the field, which makes him all the more nervous. Meanwhile, he’s working with two left feet and terrible advice from his family. Try as they may, he knows better than to listen to them where these things are concerned. The only one who has had experience is their dad and they all know how things turned out with Big Mama.

Raph reckons he’ll take his chances. If your texting is anything to go off of, he likes to think he’s doing pretty well for himself. That hasn’t stopped his brothers from meddling, however. He expected Leo to poke his nose where he shouldn’t but he didn’t anticipate all of them getting involved. Even now, they’re desperately trying to clammer onto him in an attempt to get his phone. He has the advantage of being much taller than them but, of course, Donatello is resourceful and snatches it with one of his robotic limbs before throwing it to the youngest of the four. Lousy cheater.

The unspoken rules of the game are the least of his worries when Mikey quickly messages you. He drops the phone as Raphael lunges for him and retrieves it before it hits the ground. Then he sees the extent of the damage dealt by his sibling: he’s asked you out on a date tonight. No no no! The large turtle is mortified! Sure, he’d considered the same proposal for a couple of days now but he wasn’t sure if it was too soon. This is going to make him look like a fool! He’s finished. You’re going to read it and you’re going to ignore it and he’s going to be ruined.

The receipt goes to ‘read’ and, surely, that to be the end of it until he sees you’re formulating a response. He bores holes into his screen. The taunting three-dotted line rises and falls and each second has him in the sweats. His brothers’ heads comically peak past his shell, each invested, placing bets on what your answer is going to be. Whoever had put their money down for a positive result is just that little bit richer. Three words. Three little words that would turn out to be Raphael’s salvation: ‘I’d love to! X’.

The joyous uplift of deliverance soon flees when it truly sinks in. You’ve agreed to go on a date with him. A date. With him. He’s going on a date. With you. Where will he take you? What will you both do? What is he going to wear? He’s desperate enough to call on his brothers’ aid for any input they can provide. After all, he can’t deny that their antics have led to this. Listen, these guys have all watched how much of an impact this has had on him. Sure, they’ll poke their fun but it’s genuinely warming to see their big lug of a brother with that dorky grin on his face.

After a quick montage of his family hyping him up, going through outfits, and detailing the do’s and don’t’s, he’s finally ready. You both decide to meet on the roof of your apartment complex seeing as the sun will still be out. He double, triple, and quadruple-checks the location on his phone just in case he’s managed to pick the wrong one. As he’s about to check a fifth time, the little door to the side opens and out comes you in an even cuter outfit than the one worn on your first meeting. You, too, are in awe of what stands before you, having not expected him to go through the effort of dressing up at all. It’s nothing striking but it lights up all the parts of your objective brain that make you the size-hungry gremlin you are: a grey, sleeveless hoodie that shows off his arms very nicely.

Sitting on the roof and people-watching seems to be a good enough pass time until it gets dark. Raphael’s legs hang over the side whilst yours lay to the side of you. He should have made a note of things to talk about. You’ve both already covered basic information over the phone alongside the odd funny video here and there but he’s completely blank now. Crap. He can feel the sweats coming on.

“So, hey,” he hears your voice suddenly, “what’s the highest up you reckon you’ve ever been?”

He knows the answer to that but it’s not an instance he much likes to think about. It would have been during the Kraang invasion years back when he and his brothers plummeted from heights of the sky no person should outside of a plane. That will be a story he keeps to himself. Too deep. He doesn’t want to dampen the mood.

His brain wracks itself for something else and he says the first thing that comes to mind, “Uh… well, there was the time me and my brothers zip-lined from one building and into a roof pool.”

“No way! That sounds like so much fun!”

The elated look in your eyes makes him smile and his chest inflates with pride. “Yeah, it was! Our friend April even got it on video.”

“Do you have it?” you ask eagerly. “I’d love to see.”

That’s when you scoot closer to him to the point that your arms are brushing. Do you want to see it that badly? Yes. Was this an excuse to get close? You will die at your doorstep before you admit to anything without a lawyer. He sucks his lips in at the contact and looks down at your sparkling face before fumbling for his phone. He’s almost certain he has it somewhere.

As you’re both watching the video, three sets of eyes have their sights on you. Three pairs of eyes belonging to three incredibly nosy brothers. They’re stood on one of the buildings behind you two, a few floors higher for a good view.

“So, how come we’re spying on Raph and his date?” the one in orange asks keenly.

“Listen, we all know that Raph chokes under pressure and we’re just here to make sure things go smoothly,” the blue-banded turtle responds with a hand to his chest. The other hand grips onto a tarp that seems to be shielding a box. “And I have just the thing to get some romance going.”

Beneath the blanket, Leo unveils a cage of doves all more than ready to be set free. Where, when, and how he managed to get these birds is a mystery but life is full of those. Best not to question his eccentricities. He quietly whispers, “Fly, my pretties,” before turning the latch and throwing a flurry of birdseed in the unsuspecting couple’s direction.

Large brows furrow above concern. “Aren’t they a little too close to the edge?”

Ah. That might be problematic.

“Oh my gosh,” you laugh, “I think I would have a heart attack zipping along something like that.”

“It’s really not so bad when you get used to it,” Raph chuckles reassuringly.

“Pft! You’re a lot braver than me.”

You both smile at each other as he puts his phone away. He doesn’t believe that for a second. You were brave enough to give him your number after all. He’s about to say something else when a series of aggressive flaps and coos break him of whatever thought he had. Following, a flock of doves barrages into the two of you. Luckily, he’s a sturdy pillar but the same can’t be said for you. A shrill scream breaks past your lips as you tip over the ledge. There’s a short moment when all that surrounds you is air. Nothing but air and the impending dread of what sits below. You were only joking when you said about dying on your doorstep.

Just as your eyes clench shut in preparation, the breath in your lungs gets knocked out of you when a force catches and cradles you by your gut. This strong force lifts you up and you’re met with an even stronger chest. You slowly take a look up at your saviour and he’s got you in a tight lock against his body. His other hand is clasped onto the roof ledge and he breathes heavily. Raphael swallows hard. That was close. Way too close for comfort.

Not wanting to dawdle over the long drop for much longer, he hoists himself back onto the roof with you in his clutch. The threat of falling diminished. The threat of falling in other ways climbs higher from your stomach. Oh lordy, you’re getting the vapours. As he gently eases you back on your feet, you look up at him with wide eyes.

“I think,” you breathe out, in again to recollect yourself, “maybe, we continue this on the ground.”

“Agreed.”

Thankfully, it’s dark enough that he should be able to waltz around in the public eye without it being too bothersome. From a neighbouring rooftop, there’s a rushed scurry but when he looks, nothing appears to be there. Must have been more of those doves or something. That still begs the question of where they came from but he’ll try not to worry about it.

So, a little bit of a rocky start but it doesn’t appear to have shaken your spirit. You’re a little jittery from the adrenaline, perhaps. That and being in his arms for that short moment made you realise what you’ve been missing out on all this time. You need to get a hold of yourself, woman. For the sake of not ruining this, get a hold of yourself. The slight tremble in your fingertips doesn’t go unnoticed. Luckily, Raph has just the remedy.

He walks you to a park, quiet from day nearing its end, lit up with the gentle hug of streetlamps dotted along the pathways. The setting itself is already enough to coax you back into a level head but curiosity peaks when the mutant urges you to sit on a bench. He asks that you close your eyes before dashing off. Just what is he planning? You’re tempted to take a peak but, respectively, you sit and patiently wait. When he returns, you open your eyes to see him standing in front of you, three hot dogs in one hand, two sodas in the other.

“It ain’t much but I figured it’ll help,” he admits bashfully. “‘Specially some sugar.”

You blink up at him and shrink down with a shy bat of your lashes. “Thank you.”

Your lips spread into a mile-wide smile as you take the food and drink from him. He sits down beside you and you happily dig in. There must have been a food stand that you had walked past without noticing, yet he noticed. He’s also noticed how greedy it must look for him to have two hot dogs.

Suddenly conscious of the fact, he clears his throat awkwardly, “I hope it’s okay I got two for myself.”

“Hm?” You look up at him with a mouthful and swallow. “Oh! Have as many as you like.” Your nose scrunches up as you wave him off. “The other night I had about five to myself. Not even with the buns either.”

You laugh at yourself as you take another bite. It sounds like a bizarre way to eat them outside of their intended purpose but when Mother Nature calls, there’s no point in questioning it. Besides, the best part of a hot dog is the Frankfurter. Why waste stomach space on all of that bread? You shrug it off casually but the tall turtle’s attention remains on you as he rallies something up in his head.

“How do you feel about salami?”

The way he asks is gentle, not interrogative but carefully interested with a harboured hope. What an adorable query. You can’t say you have any strong opinions about it but if it’s there in front of you, you know you wouldn’t be able to help yourself. There’s a glimmer in his stare as he awaits your answer and it takes a lot for you to not grin like an idiot.

You glance side to side, pretending to be shifty-like and lean in towards him whilst cupping your mouth. “Once, I ate an entire pack of assorted pepperoni and salamis in one sitting.”

Raph’s eyes sparkle, almost forming into hearts. He doesn’t register how he replies, going purely on automatic as his head wanders off into la la land. His free hand grips onto the side of the bench and he can feel his heart palpitate with a swarm of warmth. Has he just found his soulmate? Is it too soon to think something like that? Does it matter? He’s not too sure he cares now. Those rose-tinted glasses are his new contact lenses and he’s never taking them out.

A few trees over, the eclectic triad of trouble is back at it again trying to formulate their next plan in the ‘Romance for Raph’ operative. Donatello tinkers with something as the other two watch their brother. They have no idea what you said as you leaned into him but it must have been something mind-altering from the way he’s staring off with stars in his eyes.

“Hurry up with that thing, Dee! I wanna hear what they’re talking about.”

“You can’t rush good work,” he states, though he holds up the complete product no more than a second later. “But yes, you may now marvel at my new masterpiece.”

It’s a dinky-looking drone, fitted with the best mic system and soundless heli-propellers this turtle genius can build, small enough that it should be able to soar around unnoticed. Leo and Mikey tussle over who gets to fly the device first, each pulling on the remote control. During their scuffle, they hit a button and it quietly thrums to life. Before Donnie can intervene, the little drone is already flying around in seemingly no point of direction until it nose-dives towards them and crashes into the tree trunk. The entire tree shakes so much that a flurry of birds dart off and head for yourself and Raph.

They sore overhead with such ferocity that you both flail your arms up to cover your heads. Unfortunately, the soda in Raphael’s hand flies up into the air with the abrupt action. It falls onto the pathway but not before spritzing his hands with the fizzy liquid. Great. Now his hands are going to be uncomfortably sticky. What is the darn deal with these birds today? Alfred Hitchcock might have been onto something. The vermin of the sky turns into an afterthought when you spot your date looking over his fingers with a wrinkled frown.

Glancing around the park, you suddenly jump up onto your feet with an idea. You gesture for him to follow after you and lead him to a nearby lake. It’s the only way you could think for him to wash away the sugary beverage. As he gets on his knees and dips his hands in, you opt to stand and keep an eye out for any more winged miscreants. Figuring the coast is clear, you go back to facing the lake with your hands behind your back.

“It sure looks pretty,” you remark quietly.

Not initially knowing what you’re talking about, Raphael glances up at you. He then follows your gaze back to the lake, taking his hands out to shake them dry. The water ripples from the movement but when it settles, he thinks he understands what you’re talking about. Starlight is often hard to come by in a city such as New York but it seems they have blessed you both with their presence. They twinkle delicately, reflecting off the water and it looks as though they’re dancing, like fireflies in the calm of night. Pretty indeed. He can’t remember the last time he sat back and appreciated something like this if ever he has.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” he hears you again, quieter this time, “what made you ask me out on this date?”

His face and the entirety of his body warms. He hadn’t expected to be put on the spot like that but he supposes you would’ve asked sooner or later. It’s only fair that you’d be curious. The palms of his hands press into his knees as he sits on his feet.

“My brothers kinda had a hand in that. I’d been thinking about doin’ it before that, though!” he quickly rectifies just in case you thought this was completely his family’s doing but you giggle. He chuckles nervously and lowers his sights. “You just seem like someone I’d wanna get to know. Why’d you give me your number?”

“You saved my life that day,” you say as if it’s obvious. He narrows his eyes at you playfully and you figured he’d eventually realise that there’s more to it than that. “Okay, so, maybe there were other reasons.”

This is where your throat fails you and instead of talking, you attempt to motion with your hands. You hold them parallel to one another and map out the air in front of you sideways. Then, you make the same movement but vertically, one hand rising as the other lowers. He isn’t sure what you’re insinuating at first but it soon clicks. Are you referring to his stature? The thing that people usually fear? Nah. Surely not. That’s when it dawns on him. There was a word - one particular word that night which threw him off guard; a word he thought he had imagined but this just about confirms its existence.

With a newfound confidence, he sits up straight and raises a brow at you. “You think I’m beautiful?”

A brash heat burdens your cheeks as they puff out. You’ve certainly dug your grave on this one. How do you even answer? That probably isn’t an issue. Your reaction must be answer enough. With a blown-out breath, you swivel on your feet away from him, not knowing how to verbally respond. Just as you turn, a pebble hits you square on the forehead and knocks you back into the lake. It makes for a mighty splash but an incredibly discomfiting feeling around your body. Your head shoots up with a gasp and you hold your upper body with your hands in the sickly, cold mud, squelching between your fingers like wet clay. If birds had apposable thumbs, you would assume this was their doing considering how the night has gone.

Raphael shoots up to his feet and extends a hand to you, much like how he did when you first met. His face is laced with the same amount of concern as that day. Less hesitant than that instance, you immediately reach out and his fingers engulf your hand just as they did before. He hoists you up onto your feet, looking over you worriedly. You’re soaked head to toe.

What he doesn’t expect is to hear you laugh, “Deja vu?”

His head cranes to the side but he finds himself smiling sadly when you continue to laugh. An unshakable spirit; that’s something he’s quickly realising you have and it’s admirable, to say the least. Unfortunately, the same can’t be said for your body. You hug yourself and shiver, teeth almost chattering. Even summer nights can nip at the skin when drenched in freezing lake water.

In his haste to find a solution, he enacts the first thing that comes to mind without thinking of asking on your behalf. He quickly slips his hoodie off and holds it out to you. It’s probably a little counterproductive since it won’t dry you but it should hopefully shield you from the cold. Just enough to last you the walk home. You bite your tongue as you gratefully take the garment and slip it on. In a generalised state of mind, this is every girl’s dream right here. Your dream. It sits over you in all of its oversized glory like a great big hug. Perfect. It’s a shame to be calling the night to an end here but you both know you won’t be able to completely enjoy yourself with a dripping head.

Those same three figures dash off into the shadows, one sorely guilty for causing such a catastrophe. All Michelangelo had intended to do was throw that rock at Raph to gain his attention. It had a note stuck to it with some cute lines he could have said to you. The last thing he wanted was for it to smack you dead in the face and topple you over. He swears his aim isn’t usually that bad, hence he’ll blame the note for messing with the air dynamics or whatever Donnie called it.

As yourself and Raph journey back to your apartment, he finds himself in a bit of a funk. He tries to keep his enthusiasms up for the remaining minutes you have together but there were a fair share of disasters this evening. Not how he envisioned things panning out. He walks you up to your front door but lingers in the middle. You stop, too, and stride down one, meeting him head-level.

“Everything okay?” you ask.

"Sorry," he sighs as he sits on one of the steps. "This has got to have been the worst first date ever."

His whole body slumps and he hangs his head low in shame, arms resting atop his thighs with his hands dangling limp between his legs. This feeling just can’t seem to shake. There were so many mishaps: you falling off the roof, soda spilling over himself, and to top it all off, you got yourself a nasty bath in muddy water. He wouldn’t blame you if you took his presence as a bad omen. Disaster does seem to follow him and his brothers wherever they go. His eyes suddenly open wide and stare at the floor when he feels a soft cushion of skin against his cheek.

"Actually, it's the best first date I've ever been on," you say and he'd see a large smile on your face had he the strength to look. Removing the hoodie, you hang it over his arm and giggle, "I mean, I might have a fear of birds now but I’ve had a really lovely time. I look forward to the second one."

You peck his cheek once more before slipping off into your apartment, leaving him to sit with eyes like saucers and rosy cheeks. He supposes it wasn’t all bad. There was a lot of laughter. You two found a lot in common with one another and once you got talking, the conversation was easy. There weren’t many cases where he caved under the pressures of those ‘first date’ nerves. He felt comfortable. Really comfortable, in fact.

Raph blinks down at the hoodie and holds it up to his face. It’s a little damp but the scent of your perfume lingers on the fabric. It smells nice and he hopes he isn’t creepy for being happy about having this until you next see each other. His face hurts from all of this smiling, achy and strained. Painful but a good pain, nonetheless. An experience so new to him. He doesn’t know what to do. His body is running on highs it’s never known before. The burley mutant stands to his feet, hoodie in hand, and does the only thing he can think to do: he dances, blissfully unaware of the three sets of eyes watching from a building across the street.

"Oh, god, he's doing his victory dance right outside her apartment. Can't he save it till later? He's gonna make a fool of himself."

"Aw, but look how happy he is!"

"Indeed. I would say this is a big win for our illustrious leader."

"Hey, don't forget about our win. None of this would have happened without us and that deserves a pizza reward. Am I right, guys?"

The other two nod and mumble in agreement. It’s probably best that they flee the scene before they’re spotted, anyway. They’ll be excited to hear about their brother’s ventures when he returns and, of course, they’ll act as if they haven’t witnessed every moment of it. Take it to the grave, boys. Take it to the grave.

_________________________

I kinda love how the first part of this story was written during a fever and I had to wait until I was ill again to finish this part. Also, have to mention... the comments people!!! You ravenous animals are as crazy as me, I love it. I have thoroughly enjoyed reading these comments and I just had to include some of them here

You are my people and I love all of you so much <3

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise tmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the turtles #rise raphael #rise raph #raphael #raph #tmnt x reader #rottmnt raph #raph tmnt #x reader #x female reader

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elihermit · 3 months ago

Note

Eddie Diaz x Reader

Can you do a fic based off of 911 5x13 Fear-O-Phobia where Eddie destroys his room with a baseball bat but instead of Eddie destroying it Y/n does.

my tears ricochet

pairing: Eddie Diaz x fem!reader

summary: you work in a call center, answering emergency calls and you thought that no call would break you anymore, but today you have reached your breaking point

this fic is based on season 5 episode 13 “Fear-o-Phobia”

word count: 2,2k

author’s note: this fic contains references to child abuse and self-harm, please read with caution!

You're on shift again today and you're pretty tired at the end of it. You had an hour left before the end of the day and you really couldn't wait to get home to Chris and Eddie, even though you knew Eddie would be back a little later than you.

“Long day, huh?” — you break out of your thoughts and see Josh in front of you. You had a fifteen-minute break and decided to have coffee.

“Don’t even start, it’s like this full moon curse decided to show up earlier.”

“I feel you, but guess what? You will be free soon and my night will be long.” — Josh sighed and went to pour himself a cup of coffee too.

“Lucky me, I guess.” — you got up to go to your desk and continue taking calls. “Back to service.”

You sat down at the table and gave yourself a couple more minutes to get ready for the last hour of work. This job was difficult, sometimes your emotions could take over, but you thought you had already learned to control them. And even if you thought about quitting, those thoughts went away after a minute, because you knew that you were the first person people counted on when they were in danger and you wouldn't trade it for anything.

You put on your ear piece and come back to help people.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“Please, my dad is going to kill me.”

You hear a child's trembling voice and your heart turns over.

“Sweetie, tell me what’s going on? Are you in danger?”

“My dad gets aggressive when he drinks, he took his gun.”

“Is he threatening you with a gun? Are you in any pain?”

“He pointed it on me, but I ran to my room. Daddy hit me in the head, I feel dizzy.”

“Open the fucking door!” — you hear a drunken male voice and banging on the door. You need to be fast.

“Okay, honey, help is coming. Tell me your name and address.”

“I’m Audrey, 354 N Spring Street.”

“All units, 354 N Spring Street, the man is intoxicated, he is armed and threatens his daughter. Possible child abuse and injuries.”

You quickly notify units about this and it takes your breath away. You need to save the girl, no one will get hurt today.

“Okay, Audrey, help is on the way, I will stay on the line, until they arrive. Is there anyone else at home?”

“No, it’s just the two of us. Please hurry, he’s going to break the door!”

You feel a tear rolling down your cheek, but you quickly brush it away.

“Help will be with you in 5 minutes. In the meantime, I want you to listen to me, okay? Hide under the bed or in the closet and try to be quiet, sweetie.”

You can hear the movement on the other end of the phone. Your palms are sweating and you're breathing fast. Your whole focus is on this girl.

“Okay, I'm under the bed.”

“Good job. Help is almost there, Audrey.”

The next thing you hear is a broken door and a little girl screaming. You hear a man swearing and a loud bang. You can't control the tears.

“Audrey, are you there?”

But there is silence in response. All you can hear is Audrey's screams and pleading for dad not to hit her anymore. Your hands start shaking and you feel like you're suffocating, everything is in a blur and slow motion.

“LAPD! Raise your hands and move away from the girl by 3 meters.”

You hear the voices of the police, but it's too soon to exhale, you don't know if it was too late. You feel Josh's hand on your shoulder and only now realize how much you're crying.

“Dispatcher, this is 134, the girl is unconscious, but stable, got here on time. We’re heading to the hospital.”

It should be a moment where you exhale, because the girl is alive and she will be fine, but you can't shake the feeling that you could have done more. This is not the first call from a child in your career, but it was the first call where you heard everything in "action" and it broke you.

You open the front door to the house and walk inside on weak legs. God only knows how you got home, because everything seemed to stop and you were alone in this trap. The girl's scream is still in your ears, and burning cheeks remind you of tears that you couldn't control. All you wanted right now was to be alone.

“Hey mommy.”

You hear Chris's voice from the living room and go there. He started calling you mom not so long ago and you loved it. You accepted him as your own child and Eddie always made sure to thank you for that.

“Hey, baby. Is dad home yet?”

You wanted Eddie to be at home, he was your safe place, who always dispersed the clouds when they appeared over your head. But another part of you wanted him to still be at work because you didn't want to explain what happened.

“No, but he should be in an hour.”

“Okay. How about I make you dinner and turn on cartoons while you eat? Mommy is not feeling well and I would like to lay down for a bit. Are you going to be fine on your own?”

“Sure, I wanted to watch cartoons all day!”

Chris smiled broadly and it melted your heart. He's so cheerful and positive that sometimes you thought you needed to learn from him. You loved him with all your heart and if something had happened to him, you would have died. But one question haunted you - how can you protect him if you couldn't protect the child at work?

You put a sandwich in front of Chris and turned on his favorite cartoons. He thanked you, you kissed him on the forehead and went into the bedroom. After closing the door, you sat down on the bed and finally let out all your emotions. You were angry, sad and crushed. You were angry at yourself for not being able to do more, you were angry at this worthless father who allowed himself to treat his own daughter like that, and you were angry that now you weren't sure you could save Chris if it was necessary.

Tears were pouring from your eyes, this cutting pain in your chest, which was growing with every second and this feeling of utter helplessness drove you crazy.

You didn't know what was driving you, but the next thing you knew it was the bat in your hands and the first blow to the wall. You never thought you had that kind of strength because that punch left a hole in the wall. You scream, this scream is more like a plea and each blow gets stronger. You don't hear anything that's going on around you, you just hit the bat against the wall and scream, thinking that it will make your pain less real.

Tears are still pouring out of your eyes, you can feel the salty taste in your mouth. You throw the bat on the floor and it falls with a loud bang. Now your hands are hitting the wall and you feel your knuckles getting scratched, but you didn't care. Now the most horrifying screams are coming out of your throat.

“Hey, buddy. I’m on my way, do you want anything?”

“Dad, please hurry up! Mommy is not well.”

“What do you mean? What happened?”

Eddie's body immediately tensed up and he accelerated the car to get home faster.

“I don’t know, I keep calling her, but she won’t answer.” — Eddie heard heavy thuds and screams in the background.

“Okay, Chris, don’t worry, I’m almost here.”

Eddie ran to the house and opened the door. During those minutes while he was driving in the car, he wanted only one thing - for both of you to be okay.

He saw Chris near your shared bedroom and immediately ran up to him.

“Chris, are you okay? Where’s mom?”

“She locked herself in the bedroom. I tried to call her, but she was screaming really hard.”

“Okay, buddy. Sit in the living room, please, I’m gonna go get her, okay?”

“Okay.” — Eddie watched Chris go.

“Hey baby, it’s me. Can I come in?”

He didn't hear anything. Just the silence that didn't give him any peace of mind.

“Okay, I’m going to come in, (Y/N). Stay away from the door.”

Eddie kicked down the door and was finally able to enter the bedroom. The first thing he saw were holes in the wall. He took two steps and saw you sitting on the floor with your back leaning on the bed frame. Your legs were pressed against your chest and your head was in your lap. Eddie saw your shoulders shaking and heard you sobbing.

He immediately knelt down and cupped your face in his hands so that you could look at him.

“Hey. Hey, hey, I’m here, baby. What’s wrong? Please talk to me.” — he saw your red eyes and wet face from crying.

When you finally looked at him, you saw his frightened eyes. He was looking for an answer in your eyes and patiently waited for you to explain everything to him.

“He almost killed her, Eddie. I should have done more. I heard everything.” — the tears started to flow with renewed vigor and a sound more like a whine came out of your mouth.

“Shh, mi amor. I’m here.” — Eddie wrapped you in his arms and you cried into his shoulder. He stroked your hair soothingly and said sweet nothings in your ear. “Let it out, baby. I’m right here.”

He hated seeing you like this. He knew that his job was difficult and that he was risking his life, but he knew that your job is 100 times more difficult emotionally because you hear every pain, fear and suffering of other people when you get a call.

“We’re right out here, Chris, don’t worry.”

You are now in the kitchen and Eddie has left Chris's room. You were sitting at the table and looking at your hands. Your knuckles are red and swollen from the blows and your head has so many regrets. You scared Chris.

“Is he okay?” — you asked in a whisper and didn't want to think about hurting Chris. That's your biggest fear.

“He’s still scared. Makes two of us.”

Eddie sat down across from you and you looked up. You were so upset for what you had done and it was eating you up.

“I’m so sorry. The last thing I wanted was for Chris to be scared of me.”

“Hey.” — Eddie took your hand. “He’s not scared of you, he was scared for you.”

“Did he call you?”

“He did. I got here as fast as I could.”

You chuckled. This scenario is ironically similar. A call from a child who asks to be saved from a parent. Only his call was to save you. And it hit you with an epiphany. You wanted so badly to never put Chris in danger that you unwittingly reproduced it into reality.

“I got a call today.” — you finally started explaining. “It was a little girl and she asked for help, because her dad was abusing her. A-and…” — your voice faltered, but you continued. “Then he beat her up and I heard her screaming.”

“Oh, mi amor. I’m so sorry.” — Eddie squeezed your hand, but you got up and walked over to him. He immediately realized that you wanted to sit on his lap and gave you this opportunity.

“I still can’t shake the feeling that I should have done more. And now I doubt that I can protect Chris. I can’t even do it at work.”

“Look at me, (Y/N).” — he put his hand on your face and looked into your eyes. “Do you know why Chris started calling you Mom? Because he feels safe with you. You make him feel loved and protected. And that's all we can both ask for. You are enough.”

He kissed your cheek and continued.

“I’m sorry you had that call and you had to hear all of that. But you did everything and even more, I’m sure of it. You saved that little girl. Who knows what would have happened if help had arrived 2 minutes later. But YOU did everything in time.”

And you realized that your job does not consist of personally being at the scene of accidents. Your job is to make sure that help arrives at the right time and you did a damn good job.

You smiled and felt relieved. You didn't look at this situation from Eddie's point of view and that's what got you. You wrapped your arms around Eddie's neck and buried your fingers in his hair.

He pressed you closer and kissed you on the shoulder. Every bad thought disappeared when he was around. And his arms always caught you when you started to fall to the bottom.

You heard the notification sound on your phone and pulled it out of your pocket. It was a message from Josh:

“Audrey is alive and stable. They say it was perfect timing.”

“Always on time, huh?” — Eddie saw the message and smiled at you.

“I like to be punctual.”

He pressed his lips to yours and kissed you gently. He's always here to rescue you, and you're always here to answer quickly.

#911 abc #911 fanfic #911 fic #911 imagine #911 x reader #911 x you #911 fox #eddie diaz #eddie diaz imagine #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz x you #eddie diaz x y/n #imagine

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kedsandtubesocks · 10 months ago

Text

seasons of you (year 1 - spring)

Farmer!Joel Miller x F!Reader

summary: it’s your very first spring living in the valley & you’re very sure Joel Miller already wants you leave

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, stardew valley AU, reader is a new farmer & has a family but no physical description, mentions of unspecified age gap (reader’s age is not mentioned but Joel is older & in his 50’s) very light use of gendered language, handyman & farmer!Joel, grumpy!Joel, wound tending & blood imagery, discussion of family loss with light navigation of grief, Ellie being Joel’s daughter, secret softie!Joel, alcohol consumption mention, use of nickname, budding romance

word count: 5.4k

a/n: our first ‘Joel’ fic for our stardew AU series! Here’s to starting this new aventure with y’all! I couldn’t have the strength to post this without @swiftispunk @lowlights @ahauntedcowboy @burntheedges @perotovar you angels don’t know how much I appreciate y’all and am so grateful for you babes…and to you, if you read this - I’m so thankful for you too ♡

No one in Pelican Town hates you more than Joel Miller does. George, the crabby older elderly man in town, might be a close second, but Joel has him beat by miles.

For someone so incredibly handsome, almost beautiful in a rugged wilderness way with his misty mountain gray hair and sharp lovely nose, his glare could wither your entire family farm’s field.

“He’s just an ass sometimes.” Your Dad had told you with a sigh over the phone. “Been that way even when your gramps was around.”

At first you didn’t want to fully admit it but yeah, Joel is a prickly cactus of a man.

He owns a farm further down the path from yours. You love walking by it when you take the long way home and getting to spot all the sheep roaming around his fields. He’s also the town’s handyman.

“A jack of all trades, more like it.” Pierre, the main store owner, snickered that to you while Joel was in the store fixing a light fixture.

After that Joel helped you set up your first fencing gate. Then he fixed your sink. And then your water heater.

It’s been a lot and you know it. You feel guilty at how bad you can’t seem to get a hang of this new life yet. Your grandpa did it, thrived even. You can too, or you hope you can.

Until Joel glares at you like you’re a bug ready to squash, then you feel incredibly small.

Once you physically and accidentally ran into him walking out of the blacksmith’s shop when he was heading in. You sputtered out an apology, but without a single word Joel walked past you as if you weren’t even worth his time.

One night you went to the town’s saloon hoping to maybe mingle and get to know everyone better. But simply seeing him sitting inside made you turn on your heels and scramble out.

From that point on you’ve been avoiding him.

But now unfortunately, a few paces away from Joel Miller’s farm, your hand bleeds out a bit aggressively.

“Shit.” You hiss, slipping off your backpack to search for your mini first aid kit.

Yesterday you stubbornly tried fixing your fence and accidentally scrapped your hand pretty bad against the wood. Earlier you believed you wrapped it good enough but now the blood soaking through the bandaid mocks you.

“You alright?!”

The sharp accented drawl rings out loud in the early morning and fear collides into you.

Of course Joel hadn’t left for the morning.

You yell back that you’re fine but scramble frantic now trying to find the damn first aid kit.

“Is that blood?” Joel snaps, sounding closer, as his boots rush against the dirt.

“No, I spilled paint.” You grumble to yourself annoyed.

“M’old but I fuckin’ heard that.” Damn.

He’s much closer now, so close his shadow falls over you but you refuse to look at him.

“What happened!?” He barks confused.

Sighing, you give up hope on finding the poor elusive first aid kit.

“Just cut my hand, that's all. It isn’t deep. I’m fine.” You reassure him.

Joel sighs angrily.

“Come on.”

Now you turn and discover his soil eyes stare at you with such a steeled intensity you almost want to scurry away.

“Fixin’ this up inside.” He doesn’t even ask or let you leave. With one yank Joel Miller pulls you towards his farmhouse.

“I’m fine.” You snap back.

“What? Just wanna let it bleed ‘n get everywhere?” An edge in Joel’s voice silences you.

Any argument you wanted to hiss out immediately floats away the moment you cross the threshold into his house. Your eyes go wide. You never once thought you’d ever see the inside of Joel Miller’s place.

It’s larger than your grandpa's.

Joel deposits you into his kitchen. The lingering smell of breakfast, possibly oatmeal with its warm cinnamon notes, hangs in the air. Yet you feel like a caught feral cat that doesn’t know how to react being inside a house for the first time.

So you let your eyes wander.

Beautiful wood cupboards line the walls. A fridge is covered with various papers held up by sweet colorful cartoonish magnets you never would’ve expected from him. A worn cozy, well loved, couch peeks out from the slight view of the living room you spot being inside the kitchen.

Joel’s house seems knitted together by a rustic weathered comfort. Yet, there’s a hollowness to the house, like it’s waiting for more spirit to fill the halls. You can’t pinpoint or describe the stillness here in this place, but you sense it.

After rustling around a drawer, Joel yanks out a rather impressive medical kit. Largely bulky and intimidating, like him, it’s no surprise a handyman and farmer has such a first aid kit.

“How’d it happen?” Joel asks gruff and quiet as he rummages around the bag.

You tell him and his seasoned face scrunches up frustrated.

“Why didn’t ya call and have me go fix it?”

You thought about that. But you couldn’t handle the thought of asking him to help again, to deal with his frustrated sighs and gruff annoyance. He barely said a word to you last weekend when he went to check your sink again.

“Don’t need you to fix everything.” You tell him composed while Joel pulls out various things to wrap your wound.

“Besides, I can fix things on my own.” You add firm.

“Not all the time.” He replies.

You stay quiet and watch his hands, large and callous, gingerly dab away all the crimson from your cut.

He’s never been this close to you. You catch the faintest smell of wood and of something clean crisp, his laundry detergent maybe. It threatens to fog your senses knowing he smells this lovely.

“Y’dont ask for help and shit like this happens.”

Your face hardens at Joel’s words. You even childishly want to yank away your hand and storm off.

“Look I get it, you barely tolerate me and think I can’t do shit. I know I’m still new, but this was an accident. It happens.” Your words come out harsher than you intended, sharpened scythes that cut through the room, and Joel freezes.

“I don’t think that.” He replies clear as a spring blue sky.

You want to bark a laugh of disbelief, but instead you simply stay silent.

Joel sighs, keeping his eyes on the medic tape he readies.

“And I… tolerate you.” He sputters like he’s trying to muster the words out.

A moment passes. Then Joel sighs, ancient and heavy.

“Don’t mind me. M’just some grumpy old fuck-”

“Hey you’re not old. You’re just grumpy.” You interrupt trying to ease the mood and your heart jumps hearing him snort.

“M’old.” He clarifies. He is older, older than you, and that fact creates a strange flutter in your chest you don’t want to explore just yet.

“And…don’t want ya feelin’ like shit.” He continues with a curt softness.

You never knew his voice could sound this layered, so tough but tender.

“Just tryin’ to look out for ya like your gramps asked me too.”

There’s a strange apology shaded in his words but you manage to catch it. A rush of emotions drown you in their current.

“You were close with my grandpa.” You comment with a curious question lingering below the surface.

“Yeah,” Joel answers low now tenderly moving to wrap your hand. “His ol’ ass used to keep me in place.”

You smirk fondly. That sounds like your gramps.

“Miss seein’ him walk by this place and hearin’ him complain that he likes the sheep more than me.”

Joel’s fond and aching voice digs its hooks into your soul. You miss gramps too, so much.

“Used to fish a lot together out by the lake.” He adds.

This is the most Joel Miller has ever spoken to you and you worry the sun might fall out of the sky soon.

“I bet he out fished you.” You tease soft.

Joel snorts. “Damn right he did.”

You can almost picture it clearly, your gramps and Joel laughing together, having a friendship.

“He’d be proud of ya.” Joel mutters but his words chime clear.

Your attention flickers to Joel. He keeps his focus steady on your hand. However his words crystallize deep in your heart and you blink away tears. You ever expected Joel Miller to almost make you cry like this.

“Thanks…means a lot.” You truthfully tell him while you swallow back the heartache and love threatening to spill over.

“He’d also say you’re a fuckin’ stubborn thing for not askin’ for help.”

You snort at that.

“Well you knew the old guy, it runs in the family.” You reply.

Joel chuckles.

It’s small - like the faint flash of seeing a cardinal in the trees. But you heard it, his amusement, and it’s lovely for a man quietly layered as him.

“Alright, all fixed up.”

The wrap is tight, secure, and speaks of his many times previously doing this before.

“Thank you Joel, appreciate it.” You do.

“Can't be a handyman if I can’t fix up people sometimes.” He shrugs but there’s a deadpan charm to his words you’re slowly catching now.

“Doctor and a handyman, no wonder the town keeps you around.” So you dryly joke back.

This moment isn’t much. Yet it feels like gaining a good step in the direction of something right and solid.

Gathering your things, you decide to head out. Even though curiosity claws at you to take in a few more moments being inside Joel Miller’s home, you have seeds to buy.

“Where ya headin’’ to?” Joel asks.

“Pierre’s.” You huff. “Need more parsnips.”

He hums a noise of acknowledgment.

Back outside the mid morning sun’s warmth soaks you in its gaze. Maybe you could fish for a bit before you head to the store. After all, the weather is so nice.

“Hey.” Joel barks out and before heading back on the road, you turn to him.

He’s a sight on his porch. You think of the typical romance movies of the handsome farmer trying to woo the newcomer in town and how right now he puts them all to shame.

Hands crossed over his chest, his broad shoulders seem like mountains against the doorway, so striking and large taking up the entire focus.

“Don’t hesitate to call y’hear? Don’t fuckin’ care what it is or what it’s for, call me.” Joel’s face is hardened and serious, reflecting the unwavering tone in his voice.

Something heated crawls up your throat and makes you dizzy. You blame it on the blood loss.

“Besides, s’what neighbors are for, right?” He adds a bit awkwardly.

It hits you. He’s the closest homestead to you. You are neighbors with him.

“Alright will do, promise.” You nod and mean your words.

“Thanks again neighbor.” Those words tingle on your lips.

Joel nods and with that you head out.

You’re on such a strange high you simply float straight to the pier and fish. It’s comforting being among the crashing waves, the sea breeze, and the wonderful weather. You also think of your gramps and Joel here.

But by the time the sky starts to turn into a ripe tangerine you realize in horror you forget to buy more seeds.

You almost scream in anguish when you find Pierre’s doors locked. Accepting momentary defeat, you head home.

When you reach your porch, there against the steps a bundle of parsnip seeds and a small pack of bandaids sit waiting for you.

- ☼ -

Your hope to quietly enjoy the egg festival, your true first event here in the valley, is diminished when Mayor Lewis practically drags you into the egg hunt saying it’s a rite of passage.

His deadly polite politician smile said there was no way you could worm your way out of participating. So you simply start the hunt thinking of the strawberry seeds you can’t wait to plant once this is over.

You’re not overly competitive, but these eggs are getting harder to find. You want to finish at least with some dignity.

Besides the area around Stardrop Saloon you scan every inch like a hawk. Someone coughs, clearing their throat, and it catches your attention.

Under the shade of the building, nursing a cold drink, Joel slightly turns towards you.

Now instead of a hawk you feel like a surprised field mouse caught in his gaze.

Without saying anything Joel flickers his eyes a couple of times towards the corner of the building. Is he giving you a hint?

Heading to the spot his eyes vaguely guided you to, you discover a colorful egg.

You almost want to keep it as proof this happened. Joel helped you.

By the time the egg hunt ends everyone already seems to be packing up and the mysterious Mr. Miller has vanished from the commotion.

Abigail wins the egg hunt and you aren’t even upset. In fact you walk home feeling like a champion.

The next morning on the help wanted and errands bulletin board in town you spot Joel’s name. Below it is a request asking for a small pack of wood.

You readily answer it and drop off the bundle eagerly, a way to help pay him back for everything.

The pretty decent payment he gives you is nice but the crooked soft hint of a grin on his face when you arrive to deliver the request is worth iridium.

A few days after that he mails you a recipe. The letter is so simply Joel - a straightforward recipe then a scribbled JM below it. You hang the letter up proudly on your fridge.

Spring blooms more and more before your eyes.

You decide to take advantage of it by foraging for the day.

“Where y’heading?”

You’ve been taking the long way to the forest these past few weeks in hopes of seeing him again. Now that you’re not actively avoiding him, you discover, small town or not, Joel is a surprisingly busy man.

When you catch glimpses of him, instead of glares being thrown your way, Joel Miller simply nods acknowledging you. Comforting as it is to know he doesn’t outright detest, you don’t like how much you hope to run into him more.

Now he’s here sliding on his backpack while moving to lock his gate.

“Just heading to the forest, gonna forage and walk around for the day.” You answer him.

“Works out, hafta head that way myself.” Joel explains falling into step besides you.

Alone with Joel Miller once again.

The small talk comes - asking each other how your days have been, anything new or interesting happening. The heat is starting to pick up announcing summer’s close arrival. Thankfully it’s still not unbearably hot as you and him fully enter the woods.

Cindersap forest is tranquil. A beautiful glimmering evergreen haven you enjoy simply strolling through. You never thought you’d ever be here with Joel.

“No new crops coming in?”

“Nothing exciting.” You shrug. “I’m more upset that I didn't plant any tulips this season.”

“Those your favorite?” Joel asks, surprisingly curious.

“Not mine, my gramps.” Your memories of the farm might be hazy, but you always remembered fresh tulips in the kitchen.

“They’re for the fairies.” Gramps would tell you with a wink.

You were bummed after realizing Pierre had flower seeds and it was too late to see them bloom in your kitchen.

“Damn,” Joel sighs. “Ain't your fault. Pierre’s an ass and hides all the good shit, flower seeds included.”

You’re almost positive Pierre doesn’t do that, but you burst out laughing.

A giddy twinkling glee consumes you and fills you buoyant. He’s trying to comfort you in his own Joel way. And it’s dangerous how fast you’re growing to enjoy the company of this grumpy cactus of a man.

You move to snag a few dandelions and wild horseradishes. You make a face at one that smells a bit ripe and decide to leave it for the forest.

“You can eat those y’know.” Joel comments.

“Yeah so I’ve heard.” You tried your first ever daffodil this month. “A wild horseradish might be a bit too much right now though, but who knows. Maybe one day I’ll try ‘em.”

“My kid used to eat these all the damn time. Never took a likin’ to ‘em myself.” Joel grumbles kicking the disposed horseradish.

Kid.

“You have a kid?” You ask curiously.

Joel blinks to you and there’s a gleam in his earth eyes of something reserved slowly revealing itself.

“Uh… yeah. A daughter. Ellie.”

A daughter. He’s a dad.

It fits him in a way that you never would have expected.

“She doesn’t live here?” You ask but then quickly apologize for pressing the subject. Joel waves you off, casual and unbothered.

“She did, just graduated highschool this year. Wanted to do the whole college deal. She lives out west now.”

So he’s an empty nester.

Delicately, wanting to know more about him and his daughter, you ask about her.

Joel inhales deep then exhales slowly, as if an immovable weight on his shoulders rattles deep to his bones.

“She’s a headache, my Ellie.” Fondness trickles out of Joel a steady stream.

“Stubborn, damn near impossible to argue with cause she’s so fuckin’ smart. Got a good heart. Good head on her shoulders too, wants to be an astronaut.”

“An astronaut?! That’s incredible!” You exclaim in brilliant excitement.

Like the proud dad he is, adoration tugs at Joel’s lips.

“Yeah, been wantin’ to be one for years. That’s why she’s going to school.”

“She sounds incredible, Joel. You must be proud.” You earnestly tell him.

“I am…” His voice is thick, and you don’t miss the way his eyes gloss over distant and misty.

You decide not to press the subject any further. He instead does it for you.

“She loved livin’ here until the damn flower festival rolled around. Then she’d swear up ‘n down about how much she hated this town and was gonna leave the second she could.”

The flower festival is just days away. The town swirls in a controlled chaos for its arrival.

You laugh warm. “I’m guessing she’s not a fan of dancing.”

“Takes after me.” Joel nods.

“Ahh…so guess that means you’re not asking anyone to dance this year.” You comment lightly and Joel snorts.

“Ain’t danced with anyone in a very long time.”

A wistful ace now twists your heart thinking of Joel alone in his home, alone watching the others in town pair off.

“You gonna ask anyone?” Joel turns the question around to you and you almost choke on an inhale.

Not wanting to get flustered or react wildly you focus on the wild springs among the lush forest.

“Uh no. Don’t think anyone wants to dance with the newbie in town. Which is fine.” You answer.

There are lovely and gorgeous people in town. Some have caught your eye. However, you didn’t feel brave or interested enough to ask anyone to dance. And no one seemed intended to ask for your hand in the dance, and you find you’re not too upset about that.

Joel hums low, a sign you’re catching on means he’s listening without having to reply much.

“Hopin’ someone will ask ya to dance?” That question takes you by surprise.

You shrug not wanting to fully answer the question either.

Someone suddenly calls out to Joel from behind. At the edge of the forest leading back into town stands Maria, the town’s legal counsel and assistant mayor.

“Caught playing hooky, busted.” You snicker and Joel scoffs.

Maria yells out Joel’s name again.

“Can you come back to town and help us with something? Thought you’d be at home seeing how it’s your day off today. I’ve been trying to call ya but nothing went through.” She yells.

The service here in the forest was awful compared to the town, a hard lesson you’ve learned quickly.

But you also don’t miss Maria’s comment.

Joel had today off. Yet he decided to stay a bit with you. That thought has teeth and you can’t stop their bite from sinking into your heart.

Joel groans but doesn't hesitate to head towards where the assistant mayor stands. Maria of course spots you and a wonderful grin lights up lovely her face.

“It’s good to see you.” She calls out.

“You too!” You reply back thankful your voice is level.

Joel glances over his shoulder to catch your eye.

“Good luck foragin’. Don’t eat any weird shit.”

You sputter out a squawk at his casual comment.

“Next time I see you, I’m giving you a wild horseradish!” You playfully snap the ridiculous reply before you can even stop yourself, but Joel thankfully rolls his eyes unbothered.

Maria’s eyes however flicker curiously between you and Joel. Too many emotions heat up your skin now. So bidding Joel and Maria a quick goodbye you stomp back into the forest to continue foraging.

Now along in the woods, your thoughts still think of Joel. The bag of parsnip seeds, the bandages, and the recipe, come to mind. You never once discussed any of it with him or him with you. It’s something you keep locked in your heart, just like today will be.

Soon the day melts into early twilight. You snag a couple of dandelions and a few other forageables before deciding to head home.

Joel’s farm house looms quietly still with no lights. You can’t bring yourself to open the gate to his farm and walk up to the house.

So instead you place a few dandelions along with a nice fresh large wild horseradish on top of the mailbox by his gate then head home.

Even when you unwind for the night, you mind still feels like it’s snagged on Joel Miller, still there with him foraging in the forest.

- ☼ -

The flower dance, as strange of a custom as it is, is rather ethereal. So many vivid floral arrangements decorate the space with dynamic colors and the air even smells fresh.

The flower dance honors the legacy of celebrating the final days of spring. But it also is a celebration of love blooming.

“It has roots dating back to fertility rituals.” Demetrius, ever the town scientist, told you while you were chatting with him and his wife.

He was right of course. The flower dance is the opportunity for someone to extend a hand of romantic feelings towards another. Those who hope to participate in the couples dance, or possibly win the crown of Flower Queen, are dressed in glorious attire. Soft light fabrics and flowers woven into crowns create a scene conjured out of a fairy’s kingdom.

Compared to the others in lovely attire with flowers in their hair, you didn’t even dress up or change out of your messy dirt covered jeans. And the only flowers in your hair are actually twigs and leaves from cleaning up more of your property.

With no need to worry about someone asking you to dance, you instead simply enjoy the various foods prepared for the occasion.

“Be careful, the salsa actually has a pretty good kick.” You’re about to go in for a second helping when a gentle accented voice floats out to you.

Besides you is a man with the kindest eyes you’ve seen. Faintly you recognize his face and can recall seeing him around town.

“Tommy Miller.” He reintroduces himself seeing your slight hesitation and your eyes go big.

“Oh, Maria’s husband!” You fully remember her introducing him to you. But now something else clicks.

He’s Joel’s brother.

“Yup.” He grins proud at his wife’s mention.

You apologize profusely for not remembering him sooner and with a kind understanding smile Tommy reassures you it’s fine.

“Been a busy first month for ya, I get it. You’re a tough cookie handlin’ it all.”

Even though his twang mirrors his brother’s, Tommy already radiates a much different energy than Joel. He’s warm in a way that reminds you of a soft summer day welcoming everyone with his vibrant energy.

You thank him earnestly. “The town’s been good to me.”

A part of you wants to add Joel has been good to you. Weeks ago, you would’ve laughed at just the idea of Joel Miller showing you an emotion other than annoyance. But now you and him seem to slowly be warming up to each other.

“Don’t go stealin’ all the good stuff, y’little shit.” Joel arrives with a gruff grumble of a voice and quickly nudges Tommy.

Yet his eyes remained glued on you.

You also seem to notice how striking Joel looks in the crisp light jean button up shirt he wears.

“Speak of the devil… was just about to ask our new farmer here if ya haven’t scared her away yet.” Tommy jokes.

Joel’s face flickers with a scowl fighting to form but he keeps himself surprisingly composed.

Guilt sinks in your gut. You know he’s hard to read and you even feel bad for thinking he’s mean. Because you’re learning fast Joel is earnest in his own way.

“Nah,” you tell Tommy, answering for yourself and Joel almost. “His sheep are actually scarier than he is.”

Tommy busts out laughing and you grin. Your eyes flicker to Joel but see he isn’t grinning. Instead Joel’s handsome aged face stares at you guarded and you can’t read the emotions shimmering in his eyes.

Shit.

You might have overstepped and upset him. So to physically stop yourself from saying anything else you take a bite out of the delicious cornbread on your plate, wave a weak goodbye to the Miller brothers, and scurry away.

Now alone under the shadow of one of the lovely cherry trees, you’re aware of how new you still are, a fresh bud still trying to foster roots in this new ground. You wonder how your gramps dealt with this every year.

Soon enough, the music starts and Mayor Lewis claps excited ready to begin the dance.

At least this will be over soon.

The couples slowly sway to the soft melody then rustling arrives at your side. Gently your eyes turn to the source and you almost collapse seeing Joel move in besides you.

His eyes though stay on the couples dancing among the blooms.

“Could’ve at least picked better music to dance to.” He mumbles bored.

Your lips press hard trying not to smile ridiculous and wide.

“Could you imagine if someone played the wrong song?” You whisper back. “Like, some heavy metal rock song suddenly started screaming out?”

Joel snorts, masks it with a few coughs, but you did it. You made him laugh.

Golden soaked triumph fills you and it feels like the first morning you woke up and found a sprout peeking up from the dark tilled soil.

He’s a complex man and you’re barely even scratching the surface of him. But it’s a tender start you want to continue kindling.

For all the commotion and production given to the festival, the dance only lasts a few moments. It’s over thankfully fast.

“Bit anticlimactic.” You mutter under your breath.

“Yeah it’s dumb.” Joel deadpans.

Your lips fight from letting out a laugh.

Everyone claps joyously at the couples concluding their dance. You wonder, even as silly as this is, if one day maybe you’ll dance with flowers in your hair. But you don’t give that thought too much attention. Just imaging yourself next spring already seems so far away.

“Headin’ home?” Joel asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You hum, narrowing your eyes at the gorgeous meadow.

“I’m kind of tempted to maybe see if I can steal some of the leftovers but yeah, I’m heading back.” You reply.

“Tell me which food you’re eyein’ and I’ll grab it. No one will tell me no.” He offers and you laugh.

“Tempting as that is, I’m just gonna go home.” You wish Joel a warm good night.

He continues walking alongside you.

Your heart jumps until you realize he lives in the same direction. The chatter from the festival still lingers in the air even while you walk further away from the meadow.

“How do you deal with that every year?” You ask with a sigh.

“Alcohol.” Joel dully answers and you snicker at his reply.

“Maybe one day you’ll be dancin’ out there.” Joel comments like he’s trying to continue the small talk. But the suggestion makes you skin itch for a reason you can’t pinpoint.

You only reply with a simple ‘maybe’ and a shrug.

“I’d pay a hundred bucks to see you dance though.” You joke, but also quickly imagine Joel a picture of softness with a flower behind his ear resting beautifully among his silver curls and it makes your knees weak.

Joel however rolls his eyes.

“Next year we’ll just sneak in and take over the music. See what happens.” You offer.

“Now that sounds like a plan.” Joel agrees gruffly.

It sounds like a promise.

You bid him good night until his eyebrows crinkle so classily grumpy Joel.

“Whadya doin’? Ain’t lettin’ ya walk home alone, sprout. Now come on.”

He continues walking as if nothing while your mind tries to recover being tilted on its axis for a bit.

Joel is walking you home.

And he called you sprout.

You want to cradle this new nickname so tenderly in your hands.

Joel quietly asks about your plans for the upcoming season, almost as if he’s trying to keep you focused.

To settle your flutter heart, you manage to ramble about the new incoming seeds you’ve heard about. You talk about your hopes of going to the beach more, not just to fish but to simply enjoy the ocean.

Among all that discussion, in a blink you’re back at your farm.

Instead of Joel rushing home, he lingers.

He checks your porch almost like he’s making sure the thing still stands.

“Hope one day to see that dang greenhouse up ‘n runnin.” He points to the broken greenhouse and you can’t help but sigh at the sight. You hope so too.

Then Joel moves to stand next to you on the land.

It feels different seeing him here.

Just a few weeks ago he was shouting every profanity known to man trying to fix your ancient water heater. He also glared at you the entire time.

Now he stands next to you suggesting on what to grow for the upcoming season.

“You could plant the tomatoes over on this side, give ‘em more shade to grow.”

Joel already reminds you of a back alley cat, one that hisses and refuses to let others near until he decides when to warm up to others. And, like a fresh new sprout, you want to soak up this warmth of him up.

“Also… Don’t forget to plant flowers.” He adds with a soft grumble.

“I won’t.” You grin impressed he remembered.

When you bid him goodnight and thank him again, you almost want to promise you’ll stop by with coffee tomorrow morning.

However that feels too much, like you might make the wrong move and spook him. But you do want to know if he makes it home okay. You can’t even bring yourself to ask him for his phone number.

So you watch Joel leave until your thoughts move fast and you blurt them out.

“Wait how will I know you made it back?”

Joel suddenly stops then glances back to you.

A very soft twinkle comes over his face and he gives you a crooked grin. It colors him with such a boyish expression. This new face of Joel feels sacred, special, and it steals your breath away.

“Hang outside for a bit. I’ll give ya sign, don’t worry.” He nods then melts into the darkness.

You stay frozen on the spot, not wanting to miss whatever it is. You wait, hoping he makes it back safe. Then out from the darkness, far down the path, you see it.

A light from Joel’s house blazes alive.

Then it flickers on and off, like someone flipping the switch a few times. The movement of it against the darkness even feels like a wave of some sorts.

You wish so badly to wave back.

Reassured that he’s home, you head back feeling as light as a feather.

Stepping onto your porch, something catches your eye.

Resting on the main railing barrier are a batch of tulips that were not there when you left.

Your heart jumps into your throat. You didn’t even see Joel place them there.

Delicately placed, the tulips so brilliantly colored sit warm and bright for you - the most beautiful end to your spring.

Though, in your heart, these blooms feel like something closer to a beginning.

#I blame this on the Stardew valley update and thinking of sheep farmer Joel and here we are lol #but wow this au means so much and im so grateful to write this and if you read this me & Joel love you & are giving you a stardrop #joel miller x f!reader #farmer!joel miller #Joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #Joel miller x you #stardew valley au #seasons of you fic series #Joel 🤎#pedrostories

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swappedandtrapped · 4 months ago

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Rent Help - Part 2

Read part 1

Roy closed the door after him, leaving me still half-shocked at the situation. I felt disgusting. I was still soaking in sweat by this whole rude awakening, and I smelt awful. Like Roy always did. I couldn't do this. I couldn't stay in this sweaty piece of shit of a body. I decided I HAVE to take a shower and clean myself. At least get this sweaty stench off of me.

I wasn't thrilled about having to see myself naked in Roy's body, but I knew it was only a matter of time until I had to. I turned on the hot water and stripped. Trying not to look down, I started cleaning myself and noticed many things in Roy's body I didn't before. How he's actually a bit shorter than me, how thick he was, how soft his body felt (excluding his rough hands).

At some point, I started moving down and was finally confronted with the lower half of Roy's body. It was painful for me to see his stubby dick peeking out of a hairy bush. "I'm stuck with this for now, but it's only temporary." I tried to tell myself, cringing again at how Roy's voice came out of me.

I dried up and went to my room to get dressed, but I found this to be more challenging than I thought. After barely fitting into my underwear, I tried picking a shirt, but I couldn't find anything to fit my new size. I tried putting on one of my baggiest shirts, but I just couldn't fit. I struggled with it for a good minute before starting to sweat again and admitting defeat. There was no other choice other than to go to Roy's room and wear something he had in my new size. I ended up taking underwear and light shorts but found out that all of his shirts were in the wash. Of course. I took one from his laundry basket and took a sniff of Roy's essence. "Hmm… Clean enough.".

I spent the rest of the day trying not to think about the fact that I was in Roy's body.

I tried reading one of my books, but it was hard to concentrate for some reason. It took me a few times to understand what's going on. I thought it was just an older book with older English, but maybe it was because I had to constantly look at his think hand and fingers holding the book.

Later on, I tried one of his video games, thinking it could pass the time better. I started up the console and connected to some sort of multiplayer shooting game. I got the hang of things pretty quickly and started winning matches. Maybe I also got Roy's muscle memory along with his body? But my winning streak was soon met with my annihilation by the opposing team. "Kus ummak!" I shouted in anger to the empty house on instinct. Why did I say that?

The day went on with nothing of note. I stayed home all day, had a nap, played games. At some point, I answered Roy's phone and pretended to be him to avoid suspicion. I was weird, talking to someone I don't know with no issue. Like I knew what he wanted to hear.

Evening came, and there was still no sign of Roy in my body. I was starting to worry since I was at his mercy in this situation. I realized he could just disappear, and I would never see my body again. With this new fear, I called my phone to make sure he's coming back soon.

He answered the call, talking through the Bluetooth speaker in his (or my?) car. "Hey, what's up?" He said. "You're on speaker with the guys." I heard some laughter in the background. Was he hanging out with MY friends?!"

"Ah, yeah, hey." I said, trying to cover up the fact I was blackmailed into lending my body. "Just wanted to check when you're coming back. It's getting late."

I heard my friends in the background again. "Why is he acting like your dad?" "Haha he's lonely. Fucking cringe."

My face became red with embarrassment.

"It's ok, man. We're on our way back. Be there in 30."

"Ok, hurry up."

"Don't worry, going str-"

The call ended with a horrible crashing sound ringing in my ear. I was stunned. What just happened? I called again. No answer. I was in panic mode. Called again. Nothing. My heart was beating so fast, my body sweating again from the anxiety. Did he crash my fucking car?

The fourth time was a dud. Only at the 5th try I got an answer.

"ROY! DID YOU FUCKING CRASH MY CAR?" I shouted.

"What?" It was my voice, but Roy was clearly disoriented.

"JUST ANSWER. ARE YOU OK???"

"Yeah. I mean, maybe. Now I'm not so sure. My head got hit real bad. I'm bleeding."

"Fuck." That's my head that's gonna need to recover. "What about the others?"

"They're fine. They called me an ambulance."

"Thank god." I sighed in relief. "I was so sure all of you died."

"Haha it would take a bit more to kill me Roy."

My blood ran cold. "What did you call me?"

"Your name. Roy. Did I say something else? I really need them to check my head."

Again. I was stunned. Was he calling me that because my friends were near or did he really hit his head that bad?

"Hey, umm, are your friends with you?"

Roy sighed. "No, they're waiting by the wreck, I went aside for a bit to call everyone."

Stunned again.

"Listen Roy, I need to call my insurance, we'll talk later, ok?"

The phone slipped from my hands and fell to the floor. He thinks he's me? There's no way. No fucking way.

No. Fucking. Way.

When he finally came back, my fears were confirmed. He really forgot ever being himself or having the ability to swap bodies for that matter. I tried to convince him, make his memories re-appear. But nothing worked. He dismissed me and called me crazy no matter how hard I tried. At some point, he was fed up and locked himself in my room.

I was almost sobbing. This was it. I was stuck in his fucking body with no way to go back. With no other choice, I went to Roy's room and leaned against his bed. On his floor. In his body. Knowing that I will now have to live his life.

Thanks for reading. Part 3 maybe?

#male body swap #male body switch #body swap

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maple-the-awesome · 1 year ago

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He Becomes a Dad! || Part 1/2

PART 2

Pairing: Time, Four, Legend, Hyrule x Reader

Overview: Congratulations, you're new parents 🎉 Some of the Links are prepared. Others...might need a moment to gather themselves. But rest assured! At the end of the day, they're all going to get a handle on this whole dad thing. I'm a sucker for family tropes and there simply aren't enough out there for the Chain to quench my thirst, so here it is, I'm adding my contribution👍 Btw, there will be only two parts for this prompt since Wind will be excluded for obvious reasons. Baby making isn't a platonic activity🤷‍♀️

Zelda Masterlist 🩵Fandom Masterlist

You only brought the topic of children up to your husband once. It was at some point during the early half of your marriage and after a particularly lengthy day of enduring Malon’s well-meant pestering. Time, beside being caught slightly off guard, delivered a straightforward answer:

“It wouldn’t feel right bringing kids into this world, especially when I would hardly be home to help you rear them.”

Now, you can’t lie and say you weren’t at all disappointed by this answer, although you wouldn’t say you had the rug completely pulled from beneath you. You understood the true implications behind Time’s statement right away. It’s the same reason he took so long to let himself marry you. It’s not you nor a disgust towards children, but rather an unspoken fear of building a life where he’s too happy - one that could be ripped away from him at a moment’s notice as has seemed to be the case for his younger years.

Although his worries are needless, you never pushed against his boundaries because you could at least see the sense in his argument. Sure, the idea of having children did always appeal to you deep down, however between Time’s constant traveling and your hard work helping at Lon Lon Ranch, it would be difficult to squeeze a family into the schedule. There was no sense in forcing him into a commitment he wasn’t ready for nor one you weren’t in a position to properly foster.

Twelve years of blissful marriage passed before your plans changed. The blame lies with those other heroes, too. One would think traveling alongside a group of unruly young boys would’ve made someone more certain of their decision to never again subject themselves to such a headache, yet it apparently had the opposite effect on your dear husband.

Discovering first hand how much pride he could feel towards a descendant was life-altering, to put it light. Twilight was living proof that somewhere along the line, Time does something right. Whatever kids he might have will grow up to have children of their own and so on…Not to mention Twilight isn’t a terrible outcome by any means. To raise someone with the possibility of them turning out like him and to do so with you of all people? Well, needless to say, it was settled rather quickly after that: Time wanted kids.

Call it baby-fever if you will, but he was suddenly rather eager about the concept he had once avoided like the plague. He brought it up through not-so-subtly hints at first, then when you outright asked him if he was being serious, he went on a slightly nervous spew about your home being too quiet and how he could officially retire from traveling to be home more and it’s really a shame that you have an extra bedroom just sitting around - You just had to kiss him to shut him up which eventually led to…other things. Let’s just say you both got started right away.

It took you twelve years to realize you did indeed want kids yet less than a year to actually be holding them for the first time. It turns out even the universe was impatiently waiting for you both to come to your senses, so once you finally had, it decided to award you with not one, but two beautiful girls whom you affectionately named Saria after Time’s old friend and Mallory, a mix between melody and Malon, their ever-so-excited godmother.

It’s safe to say that the twins are pretty spoiled. Malon has been over almost everyday, bringing you plenty of baked goods as a bribe to let her spend more time with her favorite goddaughters and you have practically every baby related item that you could need, courtesy of the Queen of Hyrule herself, but of course, it’s their parents who love them the most.

Never in his wildest dreams did Time think it would be possible to feel so at peace with the life he’s built. For so many years, he feared true happiness was impossible - that every turn would result in the same cruel fate he had been subjected to during most of his existence - and yet for the last couple of nights, he’s held it in his arms. He’s watched the moon rise outside his window while playing soft lullabies on his ocarina, you cuddled by his side with your daughters shared between you both. You wear a small smile even in sleep and he swears the girls match it, too; he definitely does himself…This is a priceless treasure he’ll give his life to protect.

Four and you had already been married for a few years by the time you found out you’re pregnant. It’s not to say you were actively planning for it, although you also weren’t actively trying not to either.

It had been agreed upon early in your relationship that kids would be nice should they come your way, therefore you were both equally excited that your wishes were finally being granted, so much so that the nursery was finished within the first month (courtesy of your handy husband). It’s painted in beautiful pastels that are easy on the eyes and decorated with many toys Four had hand-carved himself; a useful craft he’s now very appreciative towards Sky for teaching him.

Seeing as this was already a somewhat anticipated next step in your lives, Four’s pretty relaxed throughout the process despite its many challenges. For starters, pregnancy itself unfortunately isn't as much of a 'blessing' for you as some have made it sound. You’re rather sick from beginning to end. If it isn't your inability to keep food down (especially in the early stages) or your fluctuating blood pressure, then it’s the aching you constantly feel thanks to both your very heavy bump and extremely active baby who just loves to make sure you never forgot about their existence by kicking you as hard as possible day and night.

Worry not. Four has made your struggles more bearable by being a darling husband through and through. He’s by your side during each doctor’s visit, does his own personal research on all things baby-related, and helps with every chore he can to give you at least some rest even if just for a quick nap, however most spectacularly, he does all of this without ever being too overbearing.

Although certainly concerned for your health, Four can recognize your strength any day of the week, especially when you've been rolling with the punches like a warrior queen during such a draining pregnancy. Anxious, sure, but not afraid. Why would he be? He’s confident that you’re both prepared to face anything together! …That is, until you actually went into labor…

Yeah, remember that previously mentioned, relaxed and darling husband? Forget about him. Your water broke and so did Four's calm demeanor, but can he really be blamed? You went into labor early - and not just by a couple of days either. Oh no, we're talking a couple of weeks early.

Regardless of his newfound fear, Four does his utmost best to still present himself as calm and collected in front of you, not wanting to freak you out any more than you’re already freaking out yourself. He first helped you lay down with plenty of pillows and cushions before running to get help. After that, he doesn’t leave your side, encouraging you throughout the process with a smile on his face, however don’t be fooled: the second you turn your head to the midwife’s voice or close your eyes to scream, your poor husband’s face reflects his inner thoughts as the situation fully begins to sink in. 'Scared shitless' - that's a good word to describe it; eyes wide in terror with a mouth that’s hung agape and slightly twisted in pain as your nails clawed into his hand.

As said, he never leaves your side - not even for a millisecond. You don’t have to worry about him being the type of guy to get grossed out by natural fluids or complain about your expressions of pain; none of that is remotely a concern of his. He’s just grateful to see you okay and even more so to hear his baby crying as they should.

A girl; small like her daddy, but healthy all things considered. Four couldn't wait to hold her, knowing damn well he was going to cry the second her soft skin touched his, but he isn’t ashamed of it in the slightest. Who wouldn’t cry holding something so precious?

Then you scream again. He thinks something must be wrong until the midwife announces that it isn’t over - that there are more squeezed in there waiting.

At the end of the day, you're just relieved to finally breathe easy without going through agonizing pain while Four, on the other hand, is left in shock staring at not one, not two, but three little babies, all healthy girls who wiggle and whimper in their parents' arms, but oh well. The nursery may have to be expanded, although there's plenty of love to go around. At least he can thank Hylia that it wasn’t quads (he's had enough of those).

Legend and you have been in a relationship for several years, although you had mutually agreed earlier on that neither of you were big fans of the whole 'marriage' thing. What difference would a ceremony and piece of paper make, anyway? You already act as any officially married couple would. You live together, go on dates, occasionally argue, and even share a bed which is exactly what resulted in a recent, unplanned detour in your lives: a baby.

When you first told Legend the news, he panicked, asking himself all those stupid questions like ‘what now’ and ‘how could this have happened’ even though he knew damn well how. Then he left. Giving some half-assed excuse about needing fresh air, he turned his back to you despite your pleas and didn’t return for hours.

Now, rest assured, he did immediately regret having that reaction and apologized for it as soon as he came home. He didn’t mean to scare you with the thought of abandonment, but as he would quietly confess during his apology, the thought of being a parent had just been too overwhelming in the moment. Neither of you had ever talked about having kids, and while he could at least have some peace of mind knowing you’ll obviously be a great mom, he fears that the same won’t be applied to him.

You have always been the light in a dim room, as Legend would put it. You’re fun, sweet, and amazing with kids. Any child of yours, planned or not, will love you with all of their heart exactly as he does. Meanwhile he’s stubborn, cranky, and the last kid to cross his path literally started sobbing. Maybe it had to do with him being covered in monster blood after just having crawled out of a dungeon but he’s pretty sure he traumatized a kid nonetheless…The thought of being just as bad around any kid you share together scares the crap out of him.

Deep, deep down, Legend’s actually somewhat excited to be a father. Although he’s too stubborn to admit it to anyone other than you, he’ll sometimes daydream about how nice it would be to tell a little replica of you both about all his adventures or to teach them how to use some of the items he’s collected over the years like his trusty boomerang. Seeing the excitement in their eyes would definitely be worth listening to you scold him afterwards. If that’s all there was to being a father, Legend wouldn’t have a single concern, yet it’s his insecurities that always have a habit of souring things. Would his kid actually find his stories cool or would they just be tempted to throw the boomerang right at his head?

You’ve done your best to reassure him, often falling back on the argument that the baby will be a part of him. Like father, like son, right? Legend was almost ready to believe you, too, especially upon laying eyes on his child for the first time. As you passed the tiny bundle over to him, he thought that maybe being a dad wasn’t going to be that scary after all, and it might not be so bad to even have more someday either…However, his worries were quick to return when the baby started screaming two seconds after being set into his arms…

Baby screams if he holds him. Baby whimpers if he looks at him for too long. Sometimes, Legend swears the thing starts crying simply by hearing his voice in another room. It doesn’t happen with anyone else, though. The baby just adores you as predicted, but what Legend can’t stand is the fact that the baby seems to like Ravio, of all annoyances, over his own dad.

He’s forced to watch as the little brat happily lets Ravio cradle him, the sight filling him with bitter jealousy and sorrow. You’re convinced that he’s just overthinking everything - that he should give himself time to adjust to his new position as a father instead of holding himself to unrealistic standards, but how long is he exactly supposed to wait until it clicks? It’s been a whole month already and he still feels as confused as day one! Will he ever get the hang of this whole dad-thing or is he a lost cause…?

If there’s any comfort Legend can have, it’s that even Ravio doesn’t know what to do with the baby once he starts crying, so at least he’s not alone in that aspect. The only problem is you’re busy making lunch and stubbornly refuse to pause your efforts. Instead, you shove a bottle over to Legend, insisting that he be the one to feed his son since it should be a ‘good bonding exercise’ for them. You won’t take ‘no’ for an answer and judging on your glare when he tries to protest, you probably wouldn’t be happy if he tries passing the task onto Ravio either.

Thus, Legend is left to awkwardly sit down and take the baby into his arms. He already knows it’s obvious he has no idea what he’s doing, Ravio doesn’t have to point it out, but luckily after some swift around, he manages to hold his son more securely against his chest before shoving the bottle in his face. The baby continues to fuss while turning his head away from the bottle, and Legend’s almost tempted to call for you in defeat until at last, the room falls silent.

Looking down, he watches in quiet awe as his son accepts his meal eagerly. His little hands quickly rise up, gripping onto Legend’s which holds the bottle in place. They’re so tiny; barely able to wrap around a single finger - Oh, and his eyes as well! They’re wide as he stares up at his dad with unbroken eye contact. It’s like a wordless conversation - one more valuable than any he’s heard before.

You return, offering to take your son now that your work is done, but Legend is quick to shake his head. Why don’t you take a well-deserved break while he handles this little troublemaker? It would be a shame to bother him when he looks so comfortable in daddy’s arms.

You've been dating Hyrule for longer than either of you can really remember, however you aren’t in any big rush to get married, figuring that it would make no real difference in your commitment to each other. You love Hyrule and he loves you. What more is there to say? For a while there, you were both perfectly satisfied with simply taking things slow and letting fate decide your course, although more recently you’ve had to switch up that method to something more stable for the baby. Yes, a baby.

You wouldn’t necessarily call it a surprise, but you also can’t truthfully say it was planned either. You had agreed that kids might be nice if the goddesses ever blessed you with any in the future, however you weren’t exactly trying for them…You just weren’t being very careful…

Hyrule must admit he was rather nervous at the start. The only prior experience he really had around kids was with Wind, but there’s a pretty big difference between a young teen and newborn. Pair that with his not so ‘kid-friendly’ world and there’s plenty to worry over. Anything could happen, but Hyrule’s determined to be the best dad and partner he can.

First thing was first, of course: you needed a place to stay. Traveling is fun and you both enjoy being on the move, but that’s no life for a baby. Hyrule and you had actually already considered the idea of settling down someplace before, so you didn’t think of it as a massive loss to take off your adventure boots for a while. If anything, it was a welcomed change once you remembered how lovely it is to be able to kick your feet up for a rest or be surrounded by warmth during a terrible rainstorm.

Again, Hyrule takes his job as your partner very seriously which wasn’t ever a surprise to you. He found a small house for you both to rent in one of the safer villages around; a perfect place for raising a child. While he might not have a talent for decorating or making a place feel ‘homey’, he does thrive when it comes to making sure you’re comfortable, his spare rupees definitely going to fluffy wool blankets and a rickety rocking chair that he saw at a market.

Early on in the pregnancy, you noticed that your boyfriend also began showing a new found determination for cooking which did scare you a bit at first - Okay, so maybe a lot. Hyrule began taking cooking lessons from some kind elderly ladies in town who must have an endless pool of patience because while you can’t say every dish is a masterpiece (or even editable for that matter), you are happy to say Hyrule can now make things like toast and tomato soup successfully. It’s progress.

There aren’t a ton of doctors in your time and none in your village, so you have to take a lot of notes from local women regarding the process. Hearing all their stories and the possible ‘what if’s for what could go wrong made you anxious, especially once you finally go into labor, but it doesn’t faze Hyrule - not on the outside, anyway. He does an excellent job of swallowing his own fears for your peace of mind, talking you through each painful contraction and doing his best to distract you from it all until it comes time to start pushing.

Some people may get squeamish at the thought of childbirth, however Hyrule isn’t one of them. He’s fought through some terrifying dungeons and has bore witness to more than a few gory injuries over the years, so bodily fluids don’t bother him one bit. He’s kneeled down right in front of you without a second’s hesitation, multitasking between mentally reviewing what he’s been told to do and reassuring you even though he’s sure you don’t hear a word of it over your own screams.

One minute Hyrule’s encouraging you to keep pushing, the next he’s holding a small, crying baby in his arms. His movements after that feel almost automatic as he carefully cleans her off and just admires the fact that this baby - this tiny, precious gift of life is his. She’s yours and his and she’s beautiful despite having come into existence within such a broken world filled with more hardships than he could count…

Your tired voice brings him back to reality - asking if the baby you hear crying is okay. You clearly feel the same thing Hyrule does upon seeing your daughter for the first time, the two of you sitting side-by-side as you soak in this wonderful emotion. Hope...That’s what she represents. Hope for a brighter future...

#x reader #reader insert #linked universe x reader #link x reader #linked universe #lu time x reader #lu chain #lu legend x reader #lu four x reader #lu hyrule x reader #legend of zelda #legend of zelda x reader

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okasuka · 1 month ago

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Damian wayne x Reader.

tw: abuse, blood. violence, child abuse, alcohol abuse.

Part 1: The Coffee Shop Encounter

The soft hum of chatter filled the air of the cozy little coffee shop on Gotham’s east side. The scent of freshly ground coffee beans lingered in the atmosphere, mingling with faint notes of cinnamon and vanilla. You sat across from Damian Wayne, his sharp green eyes scanning over a book he brought with him. Despite his stoic exterior, there was something about him that made you feel safe—a sense of quiet understanding you rarely experienced.

“You’ve barely touched your drink,” Damian pointed out, his voice calm yet observant as he placed his book down.

You looked at your untouched latte, the heart-shaped foam design slowly dissolving. “Sorry, I was… lost in thought.”

His eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You hesitated. How could you even begin to explain the chaos at home? The constant yelling, the suffocating expectations, the fear that seemed to follow you around like a shadow. Damian, though guarded, had an innate ability to notice when something was wrong.

“It’s nothing,” you finally said, forcing a smile.

His sharp gaze lingered on you, seeing right through the façade. But before he could press further, the ringtone of your phone shattered the peaceful atmosphere.

You froze. You didn’t even need to look at the screen to know who it was. Slowly, you picked up the phone and glanced at the caller ID: Dad.

Damian’s eyes flicked to the phone, his jaw tightening. He knew about your father—at least, the basics. You’d mentioned the tension between you two, though you’d never gone into much detail.

“Are you going to answer it?” he asked quietly, his tone unreadable.

“I have to.” You stood up, the weight of the call already sinking into your chest. “I’ll be right back.”

Damian nodded, though his eyes followed you as you stepped outside.

The cold Gotham air bit at your skin as you swiped to accept the call. “Hi, Dad,” you said cautiously, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Where the hell are you?” his voice boomed on the other end, making you flinch.

“I’m just out with a friend—”

“With that boy, aren’t you?” he interrupted, his tone dripping with disdain.

Your stomach churned. “His name is Damian. We’re just studying, I swear.”

“Studying? Don’t lie to me!” he barked. “You’re wasting your time and my money! I told you to come straight home after school. What’s so important about hanging out with some rich brat anyway?”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. “Dad, please, I—”

“Don’t you ‘Dad, please’ me! You have five minutes to get your ass home before I come get you myself, you hear me? Five minutes!”

The line went dead before you could respond.

When you stepped back inside, Damian’s eyes immediately locked onto yours. He didn’t need to ask what happened; your expression said it all.

“Do you need me to come with you?” he asked, standing up.

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I… I’ll be fine.”

“Y/N.” His voice softened slightly, and for a brief moment, his hardened demeanor cracked. “You don’t have to face him alone.”

You gave him a small, sad smile. “Thank you, Damian. But it’s better if I do.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he nodded anyway, his hand brushing against yours briefly—a silent promise that he was there if you needed him.

Part 2: The Confrontation at Home

The walk home felt endless, even though it was only a few blocks. Each step dragged as your heart pounded in your chest. The frigid Gotham air was no longer biting; instead, it felt suffocating.

By the time you reached your house, you noticed the front porch light flickering faintly, as if it, too, was worn out by the energy inside. You hesitated on the doorstep, your fingers trembling as you reached for the doorknob.

The moment you stepped inside, the heavy scent of alcohol hit you. It was almost a permanent fixture in the house now, along with the faintly sour smell of sweat and unwashed laundry. You tried to slip into the hallway unnoticed, but the sound of a chair scraping against the kitchen floor froze you in place.

“Y/N!” Your father’s voice roared through the small space.

You turned slowly, already bracing yourself. He stood in the doorway, his frame slouched and disheveled. His bloodshot eyes glared at you, a near-empty bottle of whiskey in his hand.

“You think you can just waltz in here after ignoring me? Huh?” He staggered toward you, his voice thick with anger and liquor.

“I didn’t ignore you,” you said softly, trying to keep your tone even. “I came home as soon as you called.”

“Don’t you dare talk back to me!” he shouted, slamming the bottle onto the counter. The sound echoed, making you flinch. “You were out there with him, weren’t you? That little punk who thinks he’s better than everyone else?”

“He’s just a friend, Dad,” you said, your voice trembling. “We were studying—”

“Studying?” he mocked, his voice dripping with venom. “You think I’m stupid? I see how you look at him. You think he’s going to save you? Fix everything?”

Your chest tightened. “I don’t think that, I just—”

“Just what?” He cut you off, his face inches from yours now. The stench of alcohol on his breath was overwhelming. “You’re nothing without me, you hear me? Nothing! All this…” He gestured wildly around the room. “All this crap I put up with, all the money I spend, and this is how you repay me?”

You stepped back, your heel hitting the edge of the hallway rug. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”

His laugh was cold and humorless. “Sorry doesn’t cut it, Y/N. You don’t get it, do you? You don’t have a life outside this house. You don’t get to defy me!”

His hand shot out faster than you could react. The slap echoed through the room, sharp and cruel. Pain radiated across your cheek and eye as you stumbled back, clutching your face.

Tears welled in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of him.

“Go to your room,” he spat, his voice slurring as he turned away and grabbed his bottle again. “And don’t even think about leaving until I say so.”

You didn’t argue. You didn’t even look back. You just bolted up the stairs and into your room, shutting the door behind you and locking it.

Part 3: The Messages

Your room was your only sanctuary, though even here, the sounds of your father’s shouting and stomping reached you. You collapsed onto your bed, clutching your phone like a lifeline. Without thinking, you opened the messages with Damian.

Y/N: I’m home.

Damian: What happened?

Y/N: It’s fine. I just need to cool off.

Damian: Don’t lie to me. What did he do?

You hesitated, staring at the screen. Your hands trembled as you typed.

Y/N: We argued. It’s nothing new.

Damian: Y/N.

Y/N: He hit me.

The moment you sent it, you wanted to take it back. You didn’t want Damian to know, didn’t want him to look at you differently. But his response came almost instantly.

Damian: I’m coming over.

Your heart raced.

Y/N: No! You can’t. He’ll freak out if he sees you.

Damian: He won’t see me.

Part 4: Damian’s Arrival

The hours dragged on as the house fell into a tense silence. From your window, you could see the faint glow of streetlights and hear the distant hum of traffic. Inside, though, the quiet was suffocating. Your father had likely passed out on the couch, the bottle still in his hand. You didn’t dare leave your room to check.

Your phone vibrated in your hand.

Damian: I’m here. Open your window.

Your breath hitched. You scrambled to the window, peeking out into the darkness. Sure enough, there he was—perched on the low-hanging branch of the oak tree just outside. He wore his usual black hoodie and dark jeans, blending into the shadows like the trained assassin he was.

You unlocked the window and pushed it open. “Damian, you shouldn’t—”

“Shh.” He climbed inside with practiced ease, landing silently on your carpet. His piercing green eyes scanned your face, narrowing when he saw the faint bruise forming around your eye.

His expression darkened, a mix of anger and something deeper—something protective. He stepped closer, his hands hovering near your face but not touching. “He did this to you.” It wasn’t a question.

You nodded, unable to meet his gaze.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. His jaw clenched, and you could see the internal battle raging behind his eyes. You knew Damian—he was used to solving problems with action, with force. But this wasn’t a fight he could jump into.

“You shouldn’t have come,” you whispered, breaking the silence.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “I wasn’t going to leave you here alone after that.”

“I didn’t want to drag you into this,” you admitted, sitting down on the edge of your bed. Your hands fidgeted in your lap. “It’s not your problem.”

He crouched in front of you, his eyes leveling with yours. “It is my problem if someone’s hurting you.”

The words hit you harder than you expected, and before you could stop yourself, the tears you’d been holding back all night started to fall.

“I’m so tired, Damian,” you choked out, your voice breaking. “I can’t do this anymore. He’s always yelling, always drinking, always… hitting. And no matter what I do, it’s never enough for him. I just—”

You couldn’t finish. Your sobs took over, and you buried your face in your hands.

Without a word, Damian moved to sit beside you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest. You clung to him like a lifeline, your tears soaking into his hoodie.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice steady and soothing. “You don’t have to face this alone anymore.”

His words felt like a balm on your shattered heart. For once, you didn’t feel completely alone.

Part 5: The Quiet Comfort

Damian stayed silent for a long time, letting you cry until your sobs turned into soft sniffles. His hand moved gently along your back, a quiet reassurance that he was there.

“I want you to come with me,” he said finally, breaking the silence.

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I don’t want you staying here with him,” he said firmly. “You don’t deserve this. You can stay at the manor.”

You shook your head, the thought overwhelming. “Damian, I can’t just leave. He’s my dad. What if—”

“What if he hurts you worse next time?” Damian interrupted, his voice sharp but not unkind. “You think he’ll stop? You think he’ll change?”

You swallowed hard, unable to answer. Deep down, you knew he was right.

“I’ll talk to Bruce,” Damian continued, his tone softening. “We’ll figure something out. You don’t have to go back to this—not ever.”

The idea was tempting, but the fear of what your father would do if he found out paralyzed you. “What if he comes after me?”

“He won’t,” Damian said simply. There was an edge to his voice now, a quiet promise that sent a chill down your spine. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Part 6: A Night of Peace

The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the heater kicking in. Damian’s arms remained around you, solid and reassuring. You leaned into his chest, your body still trembling slightly from the adrenaline and fear. For a moment, the world outside seemed distant, muffled by his steady presence.

“I don’t know if I can leave,” you whispered, breaking the silence.

Damian tilted his head to look at you, his sharp green eyes softened with understanding. “You’re scared. I get that. But staying here won’t help you, Y/N. It’ll only get worse.”

You looked away, your gaze drifting toward the faint crack in the wall above your desk. That crack had been there for years, a silent reminder of one of your father’s drunken outbursts. “What if leaving makes him angrier? What if he… tries to find me? I don’t want anyone else to get hurt.”

“He won’t get near you,” Damian said, his voice low and resolute. “I’ll make sure of it.”

The certainty in his words made your chest tighten. It wasn’t just empty reassurance—this was Damian Wayne. The son of Batman. Someone who wouldn’t hesitate to do whatever it took to protect you.

“You’re not alone in this,” he continued, his hand resting gently on your arm. “You don’t have to carry this by yourself anymore.”

The weight of his words broke through your defenses. Slowly, you nodded. “Okay. I… I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” he said, his voice softening.

Damian stayed close for the rest of the night. The tension that had gripped you all day began to ease, replaced by the quiet comfort of his presence. You sat together on your bed, talking about anything and everything to distract yourself—the books he’d been reading, the latest Wayne Enterprises scandal, even some of the more bizarre cases he’d helped his father with as Robin.

“You really fought a guy dressed as a giant condiment bottle?” you asked, your eyebrows raised in disbelief.

Damian gave you a rare smile, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “Unfortunately, yes. Condiment King. He’s… not exactly the brightest of Gotham’s criminals.”

The laugh that bubbled out of you felt foreign, almost strange after the night you’d had. But Damian seemed to notice, his smile growing slightly.

“There it is,” he said quietly.

“What?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Your smile.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked down at your hands. “It’s… been a while.”

He reached out, his fingers brushing against yours. “You deserve to smile more, Y/N. To laugh. To feel safe.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart ache. You didn’t know what you’d done to deserve someone like Damian in your life, but in that moment, you were endlessly grateful for him.

Part 7: The Plan

As the night stretched on, you leaned against Damian’s shoulder, exhaustion finally catching up to you. His presence was like a shield, keeping the fear and pain at bay.

“Get some rest,” he murmured, his hand lightly brushing against your hair.

You hesitated. “What about you? You can’t stay here all night. If my dad wakes up—”

“He won’t,” Damian said firmly. “And even if he does, he won’t touch you. I promise.”

His confidence was unwavering, but you still worried. “What if he sees you leave?”

“I’ve snuck into far more secure places than this,” he said with a faint smirk. “He won’t see me.”

You nodded, finally giving in. “Okay.”

As you settled into bed, Damian stayed seated on the edge, his watchful eyes scanning the room like a sentry. Even as your eyelids grew heavy, you felt his presence grounding you, keeping the darkness at bay.

The next morning, Damian was gone, but the weight of his words lingered. You stared at your phone, reading over the last text he’d sent before leaving.

. Part 8: Breaking the Cycle

The sunlight creeping through your curtains felt out of place. The house was eerily quiet, the usual sounds of your father stomping around or slamming doors absent. You sat up in bed, clutching your phone like a lifeline. Damian’s words from the night before replayed in your mind:

“You’re not alone, Y/N. Call me when you’re ready.”

But were you ready? The thought of leaving terrified you, even if staying was worse. You hesitated before opening your door, tiptoeing into the hallway. The living room reeked of stale alcohol and cigarettes, but your father was nowhere in sight. The empty bottle on the coffee table told you everything you needed to know—he was likely passed out in his bedroom.

Your fingers itched to text Damian, but doubt crept in. Was leaving really the answer? What if things got worse? What if your father came after you?

Later That Morning

By midday, the silence was broken. Your father’s door slammed open, and his heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway. You froze in the kitchen, clutching the counter as he appeared in the doorway, looking worse than usual—his hair unkempt, his face pale and splotchy.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay in your room?” he growled, his voice rough from last night’s whiskey.

“I-I just came down to make breakfast,” you stammered, avoiding his gaze.

He sneered, stumbling closer. “Breakfast? You think I care about breakfast? You think you can do whatever you want now, huh? Just because you’re playing friends with that little rich boy?”

Your stomach churned. “It’s not like that. We were studying—”

“Don’t lie to me!” he snapped, his hand slamming against the counter beside you. You flinched, taking a step back. “You think you’re better than me? You think you can just walk out of here whenever you feel like it?”

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” you said, your voice cracking.

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you thought he was going to hit you again. But instead, he pointed toward the stairs. “Get out of my sight. Now.”

You practically ran to your room, slamming the door shut and locking it. Your breathing was ragged, tears threatening to spill as you grabbed your phone and opened your messages with Damian.

Y/N: I can’t do this anymore. I want to leave.

His response came almost instantly.

Damian: I’ll be there in 20 minutes. Pack a bag.

Your hands trembled as you read the text. Was this really happening? Could you really leave? You shoved the doubts aside and grabbed a backpack, stuffing it with clothes, your phone charger, and a few essentials. As you zipped it up, the weight of what you were about to do hit you like a freight train.

Part 9: The Escape

Exactly twenty minutes later, there was a soft tap at your window. You turned to see Damian crouched on the branch, his hood pulled low over his face. He motioned for you to open the window.

You slid it up quietly, your heart pounding as he climbed inside. His green eyes immediately scanned the room before landing on you. “Are you ready?”

You nodded, gripping the strap of your backpack tightly. “Yeah.”

Damian’s gaze softened as he stepped closer, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You’re doing the right thing.”

“I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” he said gently. “But you don’t have to be. I’m here, and I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You swallowed hard, nodding again. Damian led you to the window, pausing to glance over his shoulder. “Is he still here?”

“He’s downstairs,” you whispered. “Probably passed out again.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

Climbing out the window was harder than you expected, but Damian guided you, his steady presence giving you the courage to keep going. Once you were both on the ground, he grabbed your hand and led you through the backyard and into the alley behind your house.

A sleek black car was parked at the end of the alley, its engine idling softly. Damian opened the passenger door for you, and you slipped inside. The interior smelled faintly of leather and pine, a stark contrast to the chaos you’d just left behind.

As Damian slid into the driver’s seat and pulled away, a wave of relief washed over you. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a glimmer of hope.

Part 10: The Manor

The drive to Wayne Manor was quiet. Damian kept glancing at you from the corner of his eye, but he didn’t push you to talk. The hum of the car’s engine and the city fading into the distance were the only sounds accompanying your thoughts.

Wayne Manor came into view after a few turns up a winding road. The massive estate loomed against the gray Gotham skyline, a combination of imposing and strangely comforting. Damian pulled into the private driveway, the iron gates closing behind the car automatically.

As he parked, he turned to you. “You’re safe now. No one will hurt you here.”

You nodded, clutching the strap of your bag tightly as you stepped out of the car. The enormity of the mansion made you hesitate, but Damian was already at your side, his hand resting lightly on your back to guide you.

The front doors opened before you reached them, revealing Alfred Pennyworth, the family butler. His calm, discerning gaze immediately fell on you, and a faint smile touched his lips.

“Master Damian, I take it this is our guest?” Alfred asked, his tone warm yet professional.

“Yes,” Damian said, his voice firm but gentle. “Y/N is staying here for a while.”

Alfred nodded, stepping aside to let you in. “Welcome to Wayne Manor, Miss Y/N. Please, make yourself at home.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Inside the Manor

The interior of the manor was even more overwhelming than the exterior. High ceilings, ornate chandeliers, and a grand staircase made the space feel almost unreal. You followed Damian silently, your nerves twisting as he led you to a smaller sitting room.

“You should rest,” he said, motioning to the plush couch. “I’ll grab Alfred and get you something to eat.”

You sat down tentatively, the soft cushions swallowing you. “Damian… what if my dad comes looking for me?”

“He won’t find you here,” Damian said confidently. “And even if he does, he’ll regret it.”

There was a hardness in his voice that made you shiver. You believed him, though. If anyone could protect you, it was Damian.

A few minutes later, Alfred returned with a tray of tea and sandwiches. “You must be exhausted,” he said, setting the tray down in front of you. “Master Damian has informed me of your situation. Rest assured, you are quite safe here.”

“Thank you,” you said again, your voice cracking slightly.

As you sipped the tea, Damian sat beside you, his presence a quiet reassurance.

“Bruce will want to meet you,” he said after a moment.

“Your dad?” you asked, suddenly nervous. “I don’t want to cause any trouble…”

“You won’t,” Damian said firmly. “He’ll understand. And he’ll help. Trust me.”

You nodded, though the thought of meeting Bruce Wayne—a man as intimidating as the manor itself—made your stomach twist.

Part 11: Meeting Bruce

An hour later, Damian led you to Bruce’s study. Your heart raced as he knocked once and pushed the door open.

Bruce Wayne sat at his desk, his sharp blue eyes lifting from a stack of papers as you entered. He was every bit as imposing as you’d imagined, his presence commanding the room. But there was something about his expression—a mix of concern and understanding—that made you feel slightly less nervous.

“Y/N,” Bruce said, rising from his chair and extending a hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

You shook his hand tentatively, glancing at Damian for reassurance.

“Damian told me everything,” Bruce said, his voice steady but gentle. “You don’t have to worry. You’re safe here, and we’ll do whatever we can to help you.”

The kindness in his tone caught you off guard, and you felt your eyes welling up again. “Thank you. I… I didn’t know where else to go.”

“You made the right choice,” Bruce said. “No one deserves to live in fear. We’ll make sure your father doesn’t hurt you again.”

His words carried a weight of finality, as if they were a promise etched in stone.

Part 12: A New Beginning

That night, Damian showed you to one of the many guest rooms. It was bigger than your entire bedroom back home, with soft lighting and a bed that looked like it belonged in a five-star hotel.

As you unpacked your bag, Damian leaned against the doorway, watching you quietly.

“You okay?” he asked after a moment.

You turned to him, offering a small smile. “Better. Thank you, Damian. For everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said, stepping into the room. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”

You sat on the edge of the bed, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but… it feels good to breathe again. To not feel trapped.”

Damian sat beside you, his hand resting lightly on yours. “One step at a time. You’ll get through this. And I’ll be here, no matter what.”

For the first time in a long while, you felt a flicker of hope. You weren’t alone anymore, and for now, that was enough.

Part 13: Settling In

The next few days passed in a blur. You stayed in the guest room, adjusting to the quiet luxury of Wayne Manor. It felt strange—having peace, space, and no yelling. Every time the silence stretched too long, you found yourself holding your breath, waiting for a shout or a crash that never came.

Damian stayed close. He had a way of hovering without being overbearing, his presence a constant reassurance. Alfred brought you meals and always checked in with a kind smile. Even Bruce stopped by once or twice, offering updates about what steps he was taking to ensure your safety.

One Morning in the Manor

Damian knocked softly on your door before stepping inside. “How are you feeling today?”

You looked up from the book you’d been pretending to read, offering a small smile. “Better, I think. Still… weird.”

“Weird?” he echoed, sitting down on the armchair across from you.

“Quiet,” you admitted. “I keep expecting something bad to happen. It’s like my brain doesn’t know how to relax.”

He nodded, understanding in his sharp green eyes. “It’ll take time. You’ve spent years in survival mode. You can’t unlearn that overnight.”

The thought made your chest tighten. “What if I never do? What if I’m always stuck like this?”

“You won’t be,” Damian said firmly. “You’re stronger than you think, Y/N. And you have people who care about you now. You’re not doing this alone.”

His words brought a lump to your throat, but you managed to nod. “Thanks, Damian. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You won’t have to find out,” he said, his voice soft but unwavering.

Part 14: A New Routine

As the days turned into weeks, you started to settle into a new rhythm. Alfred’s calm presence became a source of comfort, and Bruce’s quiet support reassured you that you weren’t a burden.

Damian was your constant, though. He had a way of knowing when you needed space and when you needed him close. He took you on walks around the expansive grounds, introduced you to the family’s collection of exotic pets, and even convinced you to join him in the training room one afternoon.

In the Training Room

“Hold your stance,” Damian instructed, his voice calm but firm.

You adjusted your footing, feeling awkward as you held up your fists. “Like this?”

“Better,” he said, circling around you to adjust your posture. “Remember, it’s about balance. You’re not trying to overpower someone; you’re trying to outmaneuver them.”

You exhaled sharply, trying to focus. “I feel ridiculous.”

“You look fine,” Damian said with a smirk. “Better than most people do on their first try.”

“Are you actually giving me a compliment?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t get used to it,” he said, his smirk widening slightly.

The playful banter lightened the mood, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a spark of confidence.

Part 15: Confronting the Past

One evening, as you sat in the living room scrolling through your phone, Bruce walked in. He carried a folder in his hand, his expression serious but not unkind.

“Y/N,” he said, sitting across from you. “I’ve been looking into your father.”

Your stomach tightened. “What did you find?”

Bruce hesitated, his eyes softening. “He has a record—multiple DUIs, reports of domestic disturbances. Nothing that ever led to serious consequences, unfortunately. But it’s enough to build a case.”

You swallowed hard, your hands trembling slightly. “What does that mean? Will he… go to jail?”

“That depends,” Bruce said carefully. “You’d have to be willing to give a statement. To tell your story.”

The thought made your chest ache. The idea of standing up to your father, of reliving everything in front of strangers, was terrifying.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” Bruce added. “But if you want to take legal action, we’ll support you every step of the way.”

You nodded slowly, your mind racing. “I’ll… think about it.”

That night, you sat on the balcony outside your room, staring at the stars. Damian joined you a few minutes later, sitting silently beside you.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” he asked.

You nodded. “I just… I don’t know if I can do it. What if it doesn’t work? What if he gets away with it?”

“He won’t,” Damian said firmly. “Not with Bruce involved. And not with me.”

The conviction in his voice made you feel braver than you had in a long time. “I’m scared, Damian.”

“I know,” he said, his hand brushing against yours. “But you’re not alone. Whatever you decide, I’ll be right here.”

You leaned against his shoulder, the warmth of his presence grounding you. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he murmured. “Just let me help you.”

Part 16: Taking the First Step

The decision lingered in your mind for days, every thought leading back to the idea of facing your father and exposing the years of abuse. The idea terrified you, but Damian’s unwavering presence gave you strength.

One morning, as you sat in the sunlit dining room picking at a plate of scrambled eggs Alfred had prepared, Bruce walked in. He gave you a small nod before sitting across from you, placing a phone and a folder on the table.

“I have someone you should talk to,” Bruce said gently.

Your heart skipped. “Who?”

“A social worker. Her name is Ellen Grayson. She specializes in helping people in situations like yours—people ready to take action but unsure where to start.”

Damian, who had been leaning against the wall nearby, stepped forward. “She’s good at what she does,” he added. “And she’s someone we trust.”

You hesitated, your fork hovering above your plate. “What… what would I have to do?”

Bruce’s voice was calm and measured. “Talk to her. Tell her your story. She’ll help you decide what steps to take next. You don’t have to commit to anything right away.”

Your chest felt tight, but you nodded. “Okay. I’ll talk to her.”

Meeting Ellen

That afternoon, Damian sat beside you in one of the manor’s private offices as Bruce called Ellen on speakerphone. Her voice was warm and calm, her tone immediately putting you at ease.

“Y/N, I want you to know that you’re very brave for even considering this,” Ellen said. “I know it’s not easy to talk about what you’ve been through, but if you’re ready, I’d like to hear your story.”

Damian’s hand rested lightly on your knee, a silent reminder that he was there. You took a deep breath and began to speak, your words halting at first but gaining momentum as you recounted the years of fear, the yelling, the drinking, and the blows you’d endured.

By the time you finished, your voice was shaking, and tears blurred your vision. Ellen’s voice came through the speaker, steady and supportive.

“Thank you for sharing that with me, Y/N,” she said. “You’ve been through so much, but I want you to know you’re not alone. We can take this one step at a time, and we’ll make sure you’re safe.”

After the call ended, Damian handed you a glass of water, his green eyes searching your face. “You okay?”

You nodded, though your hands still trembled. “It feels… weird. Like I finally let it out, but now I don’t know what comes next.”

“What comes next is up to you,” Bruce said gently. “But we’ll be with you every step of the way.”

Part 17: Filing the Report

The next step was filing a formal police report. Ellen arranged for a detective she trusted to handle your case, someone who specialized in domestic abuse. Bruce and Damian both insisted on coming with you for support.

At the GCPD

The police station was intimidating, its gray walls and harsh lighting making your stomach churn. Damian walked close beside you, his presence a steadying force.

Detective Renee Montoya greeted you with a kind smile, leading you to a quiet room away from the chaos of the main floor. “Take your time,” she said, sliding a notebook and pen across the table. “There’s no rush.”

You hesitated, staring at the blank page. The idea of putting everything into writing made your chest tighten, but Damian gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“You’ve got this,” he said softly.

With a shaky breath, you began to write.

By the time you finished, hours had passed, and your hand ached from gripping the pen so tightly. Montoya skimmed over the report, nodding as she read.

“This is a solid start,” she said. “We’ll move forward with an investigation, but I want you to know this might take some time. If you feel unsafe at any point, call me immediately.”

You nodded, your exhaustion overwhelming. “Thank you.”

Montoya smiled. “You’re brave, Y/N. Don’t forget that.”

Part 18: A Night of Reflection

That night, back at the manor, you sat on the balcony outside your room, staring at the Gotham skyline. The weight of everything you’d done settled on your shoulders—telling your story, filing the report, taking the first real steps toward freedom.

Damian joined you, a quiet presence at your side. He didn’t say anything at first, letting the silence stretch comfortably between you.

“Do you think I did the right thing?” you asked finally.

He looked at you, his green eyes steady. “I know you did. You’re taking control of your life, Y/N. That’s never the wrong choice.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, tears slipping down your cheeks. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“You didn’t have to,” he said, his voice soft. “And you never will.”

As the night stretched on, the stars above seeming brighter than usual, you felt a strange sense of peace. For the first time in years, you weren’t just surviving—you were beginning to live.

Part 19: A Moment of Closeness

After the long day, exhaustion weighed on you, but you couldn’t sleep. The quiet of the manor wasn’t threatening, but it gave you too much time to think. Your mind replayed the conversation with Ellen, the time at the police station, and the memories you’d unearthed. The ache in your chest felt unbearable.

Sighing, you grabbed your phone and sent Damian a quick text.

Y/N: Are you awake?

It took less than a minute for his reply to come through.

Damian: I am now. What’s wrong?

You hesitated, not wanting to seem needy, but the thought of being alone with your spiraling thoughts was worse.

Y/N: Can you come to my room?

A soft knock came moments later. When you opened the door, Damian stood there in a loose T-shirt and sweatpants, his hair slightly tousled as if he’d been lying down. His eyes searched yours, and without saying a word, he stepped inside.

“You’re overthinking again,” he said softly, shutting the door behind him.

You shrugged, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “It’s hard not to. Everything feels so… heavy.”

Damian crouched in front of you, resting his hands lightly on your knees. “You don’t have to carry it alone.”

“I know,” you murmured, looking down at where his hands touched you. “But sometimes it feels like I’ll never be free of it.”

“You will,” he said firmly. “It’s going to take time, but I promise you, you’ll get there.”

The conviction in his voice made your throat tighten. Before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He froze for a split second, then relaxed into the embrace, his arms sliding around your waist.

An Intimate Moment

Damian pulled you closer, his hands warm and steady on your back. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his faint, clean scent. For the first time that day, the weight in your chest seemed to ease.

“You’re shaking,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

“I just… I don’t know how to stop feeling like this,” you admitted, your voice muffled against his shoulder.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his green eyes intense but gentle. “Then let me help you.”

His thumb brushed a stray tear from your cheek, the touch so tender it made your heart ache. “You’re safe here, Y/N. With me, with Bruce, with Alfred. No one is going to hurt you again.”

You nodded, though your tears continued to fall. “I just feel so broken sometimes.”

“You’re not broken,” he said quietly, his voice firm but kind. “You’re hurt, but you’re healing. And that takes strength.”

The sincerity in his tone made your breath catch. “How are you always this sure of everything?”

“I’m not,” he admitted, a small, self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips. “But when it comes to you, I am.”

The vulnerability in his words made your heart race. You hesitated for a moment, then leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his. His eyes fluttered closed, his breath brushing your lips as the space between you seemed to disappear.

The First Kiss

The moment lingered, the air around you thick with unspoken emotions. You weren’t sure who moved first, but your lips met his in a tentative, gentle kiss. Damian’s hand slid to the back of your neck, holding you close as the kiss deepened, his touch warm and grounding.

When you finally pulled back, your cheeks flushed, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath unsteady.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, your heart pounding. “Me too.”

Part 20: In Each Other’s Arms

Later that night, Damian stayed with you, his presence a comforting weight beside you. You lay curled against him, your head resting on his chest as his fingers traced idle patterns on your arm.

“You should sleep,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

“I’m afraid of the nightmares,” you admitted.

“You’re not alone,” he said, his hand brushing over your hair. “If you wake up, I’ll be here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear slowly lulled you into a sense of calm. For the first time in as long as you could remember, you felt safe—truly, undeniably safe.

And as sleep finally claimed you, Damian’s arms wrapped around you, holding you close as if he could shield you from the rest of the world.

Part 21: Facing the Past Together

The days following your intimate moment with Damian felt different. The bond between you had deepened in a way neither of you had expected, and while the vulnerability that had surfaced between you both still lingered in the air, there was a certain warmth now whenever you were together.

Damian continued to be your rock, always present, always steady. The manor had become more than just a refuge; it was a place where you were slowly rebuilding—reclaiming pieces of yourself that had been lost. Yet, the weight of your past still haunted you.

Late Afternoon in the Manor

It was a quiet afternoon when Bruce came to find you in the library. He had his usual calm demeanor, but there was an edge of urgency in his voice that caught your attention.

“Y/N, we’ve heard back from the investigation team,” he said, standing at the doorway, holding a folder.

Your stomach tightened. “And?”

Bruce looked at you, his expression unreadable. “We have enough evidence now to pursue a restraining order, and we’re beginning to build the case for possible charges against your father. But… there’s more to discuss.”

Your heart raced. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but the weight of Bruce’s words made your mind spin. Damian was right beside you now, his presence like a grounding force.

“What else?” you asked, trying to steady your breathing.

Bruce paused for a moment before continuing. “Your father’s been informed that we’re involved. He might take more aggressive actions in response. We need to be prepared for that.”

Damian’s jaw clenched, his hand subtly brushing yours as he stood closer. “We’re ready for whatever he throws at us,” he said, his voice low but resolute.

Bruce nodded, offering you a comforting look. “We’ll be taking additional measures to keep you safe, Y/N. You won’t have to face him alone anymore.”

You swallowed, the weight of everything hitting you all at once. “Thank you, Bruce. I don’t know what I’d do without you all.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. You’re family now,” Bruce said, his voice steady and reassuring.

Part 22: The Moment of Truth

The next day, the investigation took a more active turn. Detective Montoya contacted you directly, informing you that your father was aware of the charges against him. He was, predictably, furious.

“You need to stay alert,” Montoya told you over the phone. “We’re taking steps to protect you, but it’s crucial that you avoid contact with him for now. If he shows up at the manor or anywhere near you—call me immediately.”

Damian, overhearing the conversation, moved closer to you. “You’ll be okay,” he said softly, though you could see the tension in his features.

You nodded, feeling the deep knot in your stomach tighten. “I know… I just don’t feel okay, though. What if he tries something—what if he comes after me?”

Damian took your hand gently in his, squeezing it. “He won’t get past me.”

That evening, after the conversation with Montoya, Bruce came to see you in your room. His expression was calm, but you could tell he was thinking through the strategy.

“We’re putting in place additional security,” Bruce said. “Damian will stay with you at all times for now. We’ll have someone monitoring your father’s movements, but we’ll also be here to keep an eye on things. You don’t have to carry this burden alone.”

You looked at Damian, his presence both comforting and intense. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

He nodded. “You don’t have to say anything. I’ll be right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Part 23: A Quiet Evening

Later that night, after dinner, the two of you found yourselves once again on the balcony, the cool night air drifting around you. The stars above felt endless, much like the road ahead.

“I don’t know how to do this,” you admitted, staring at the horizon.

Damian sat next to you, his shoulder brushing against yours as he looked out at the dark sky. “You don’t have to do it alone.”

You turned to him, studying his face, noticing the lines of worry etched on his brow despite his calm demeanor. “I don’t know how to ask for help,” you confessed. “I’ve never really had anyone I could rely on before.”

He met your gaze, his eyes filled with a quiet understanding. “You have me now. And I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re a burden. You’re not.”

Your heart swelled at his words, but it was hard to ignore the emotions that still felt tangled in your chest. “I’m scared, Damian.”

“I know,” he replied, his hand reaching for yours. “But fear doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you’re still fighting.”

You turned your palm up, your fingers intertwining with his. For a moment, the weight of everything you’d been through—the fear, the pain—seemed to dissipate as his warmth wrapped around you.

Damian leaned in, his forehead touching yours. “You don’t need to carry the world on your shoulders, Y/N. I’m here. You’ll never be alone in this.”

The depth in his eyes, the sincerity in his voice, made the last bit of doubt fade away. You leaned into him, resting your head against his chest, letting the steady beat of his heart reassure you.

Part 24: In His Arms

As the night grew darker, you stayed there, together, in each other’s company. Damian’s arms wrapped around you, his presence both a shield and a comfort. You felt his fingers trace slow circles on your back, the rhythm soothing as you closed your eyes and let yourself relax for the first time in days.

“I need you to know something,” Damian said quietly, his voice soft in the night air.

You looked up at him, the words you’d wanted to say in the back of your mind finally finding their way to your lips. “What is it?”

“I care about you, Y/N. More than I can explain.” His gaze softened as he spoke, his hand gently cupping your face. “And I’m not going anywhere. No matter what happens next.”

You swallowed hard, feeling your chest tighten with emotion. “I care about you, too.”

The intensity in his eyes deepened, and without another word, his lips found yours. It was soft at first, tender—an unspoken promise that all the pain, all the fear, would eventually fade. For now, you were here together, and that was enough.

Part 25: A Moment Interrupted

The night had grown deeper, and the soft glow from the stars outside illuminated the quiet balcony. You and Damian had been talking—about everything and nothing. The conversation had drifted from your past to your hopes for the future, from your fears to the small moments of peace you’d found together. It was one of those rare times when the world felt still, and for a brief moment, you could forget about everything else.

Damian’s fingers traced small patterns on your wrist, his touch gentle, thoughtful. There was an unspoken tension between you two, something that had been building over the past few days. Every glance, every word, felt more loaded than the last.

Without realizing it, you found yourself leaning closer to him, your heartbeat quickening with each passing second. Damian’s eyes flickered to your lips, then back up to your eyes, as if silently asking for permission.

You didn’t hesitate. Closing the gap between you, you kissed him softly, your lips brushing against his in a gentle, almost tentative touch.

His hand cupped your face, his thumb lightly grazing your cheek as the kiss deepened. The warmth between you both surged, the tension of the past few days melting away as his lips moved against yours, slow and tender. It was everything you’d wanted, everything you’d needed—a quiet moment where nothing else mattered but the two of you.

His other hand slid around your waist, pulling you closer, your bodies aligning as you lost yourself in the kiss. The night air seemed to disappear, leaving only the sensation of his touch, the soft rhythm of your breathing, the shared warmth that made you feel safe.

But then, just as you were completely lost in the moment, a voice rang out from the door, breaking through the bubble of intimacy.

“Well, well, well…” Bruce’s amused voice echoed in the hallway.

Both you and Damian immediately jumped apart, the suddenness of the interruption making your heart race in embarrassment. You scrambled for words, but none came.

Bruce was standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame with a knowing smile on his face. His eyes twinkled with amusement as he surveyed the scene, clearly entertained by your flustered reactions.

Damian’s face was flushed, his usual composure faltering as he shifted uncomfortably. “Bruce, we—uh, we didn’t hear you.”

You couldn’t stop the heat from flooding your face. You had barely kissed him, but the interruption made it feel like you’d done something much more. “Sorry,” you mumbled, not meeting Bruce’s eyes.

Bruce chuckled, stepping further into the room. “Don’t worry, kids. It’s not like I’ve never had this happen before.” He waved a hand dismissively, clearly unbothered. “Just don’t get carried away. And, Damian…”

Damian straightened, his embarrassment quickly turning into a defensive stance. “What?”

“Just make sure she stays safe, alright?” Bruce said with a small, almost affectionate grin. “I trust you both, but I’m sure we can all agree that you two don’t need any more distractions.”

Damian gave a sharp nod. “Of course.”

Bruce’s smile softened. “Good. Now, get some rest. We have a lot to handle tomorrow.” He turned to leave, but then paused and glanced back at the two of you.

“I’m happy for you both,” he added, his voice quieter. “But remember, there’s still work to do.”

With that, Bruce left, the door clicking shut behind him.

For a long moment, neither you nor Damian spoke. The air was thick with the awkwardness of the situation, and both of you avoided looking at each other, the weight of Bruce’s words hanging between you.

Finally, Damian broke the silence, his voice almost shy. “Well, that was… unexpected.”

You let out a small laugh, still feeling your cheeks burning. “I feel like we’ve just been caught doing something we didn’t even do.”

Damian smirked, his hand finding yours again, the tension from earlier quickly dissolving into something more familiar. “We didn’t,” he said simply. “But we’re definitely going to have to be careful around Bruce from now on.”

You chuckled, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, I think I’ll avoid making eye contact with him for a while.”

Damian gave you a small, teasing smile, leaning in close again, but this time, he didn’t kiss you. Instead, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

“Are you still nervous?” he asked quietly.

You smiled softly, meeting his gaze. “A little, but not as much as I was before.”

“Good,” he said, his voice low and comforting. “You should be able to relax around me.”

“I do,” you whispered, your heart fluttering in your chest.

And for that moment, everything felt perfectly, blissfully right.

#dc #dc comics #dc fanart #dc robin #damian wayne #dcu #damian wayne x reader #fluff #damian wayne x y/n #angst

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pitchsidestories · 7 months ago

Text

New Romantics (2) II Grace Clinton x Bronze!Reader

part 1 I masterlist I word count: 2485

summary: England looses at home and you feel like it's your fault, but your girlfriend Grace Clinton and your older sister Lucy Bronze are there for you. Despite that you've a decision to make which could change your life.

a/n: Hi, quite a few of you wanted to see a part 2 of this, we hope you enjoy it just as much as part 1. Plus, the oneshot was written before the announcement of Lucy Bronze leaving the club. 💔

The last bit of energy left your body once the game ended. You had been on a high with the English national team so this result was more than just disappointing. You felt deflated. Angry and sad and everything in between.

It was an important game that you just lost against France. It was in front of a home crowd and in front of your whole family. You wanted to disappear, not talk to anyone for some time.

Grace approached you when you were still standing on the pitch, scenes from the play replaying in front of your inner eye again and again. You losing the ball in a dangerous situation right in front the penalty area. Why did you not pass faster? Why did you not play a long ball out?

“Y/n? Your family is over there, let’s say hi to them…“ Graces voice was soft next to your ear.

She pointed to the stands but you refused to look. Tears welled up in your eyes at the mention of your family.

“I can’t. I disappointed them, Grace…“, you sniffed.

Grace gently took your hand into hers, rubbing circle with her thumb: “You didn’t. They’re your family, they’ll want to see you.“

You pulled back from her: “But I don’t want to see anyone right now.“

“Y/n.“, she said but you were already headed towards the changing rooms so you missed your Lucy approaching Grace with a frown.

“Where’s my sister, Grace? Our nephew and niece wanted to say hi to her.“

“She went to the changing rooms already.“, the young midfielder replied truthfully, but slightly hurt.

Without missing a beat, Lucy walked determinedly towards the players tunnel.

“Y/n!“ You winced as she called your name and slammed open the door.

You knew what would follow. And you really did not need a lecture right now.

“What?! Leave me alone, Lucia!“, you yelled at her, standing up from the wooden bench that you had been sitting on.

“No!“

You glared at each other for a moment until you finally gave in first. You sighed and whispered: “I can’t go back out there…“

“Our family is waiting. Mum and Dad want to see you.“

“They want to see me? After this game? The second goal for France was so my fault…“ Scepticism outweighed the disbelief in your voice.

Lucy rolled her eyes: “Can you calm down? This is not your first football game. Mistakes happen, there are ten of us on the field who are supposed to help you in these situations.“

“No but… It was in front of our family. And what if Sarina doesn’t call me up anymore after his?“, you asked. Your thoughts were running wild with your greatest fears.

“That’s just football, y/n.”, your older sister shrugged. In a more uplifting tone, she continued:” And Sarina was talking to mum earlier about how happy she was with your debut.”

“She did? Really?”, you looked up at her surprised.

“Of course she did. You played great except for that one second.”, Lucy answered, there was a softness to her voice now which wasn’t here before. The older defender knew what she was talking about, her career had a lot of highs and a few lows too and mistakes were made along the way. They were a part of the beautiful game.

“A second which mattered.”, you whispered heartbroken.

“This is like arguing with a wall.”, Lucy rolled her eyes.

Your brother entered the changing room, glancing at her amused:” Weird, she reminds me of your younger self.”

“I wasn’t like this at all!”, the Barcelona player protested.

“Yes, you were and are bad at loosing games.”, he reminded her.

“Lies.”, she spat out.

“You know it’s true.”, Jorge argued. The older sister wouldn’t agree to it, but her silence was enough for him. Lucy and you were in some ways more similar than you would admit. Sometimes it scared her how much you reminded her of her younger self she thought she let behind. The defender saw your insecurities, and ambition and saw her young adult reflected in your behaviour.

Right behind Jorge were your nephew and niece.

The little girl came to you, her face beaming:” Look auntie Grace gave me this.”

“What’s that?”, you asked her irritated.

“It’s for you. Gracie said to give it to you.”, she declared.

“Thanks. That’s sweet of her.”, you sighed.

“And she’s waiting.”, your niece stated seriously.

When she and her brother were born you were relieved because it meant you weren’t the youngest in the family anymore. But you also felt a responsibility, to be more grown up, be a good example for them.

“Uhm little one? Are you very sad that we lost?”, you questioned her cautiously.

“No, next game you’ll win.”, the little girl shook her head fiercely. There was a certainty in her voice which warmed your heart.

“The next game is against them again.”, you remembered.

“Then you can try again.”, she grinned at you.

“Hi, you two.”, Grace stopped in front of you nervously.

“Grace, hi.”, you greeted her.

“Can I give you a hug now or is it too early for that?”, your girlfriend wanted to know.

“No, I’m ready for a hug.”, you told her. A relieved smile was on her lips while she bent down to kiss you, before wrapping her strong warms around you.

“Thank you, Grace.”, you muttered gratefully, as you inhaled her familiar scent of warmth and home.

“You’re welcome.”, she replied.

“I think I needed that.”, you acknowledged.

Your girlfriend studied your face with worry: “You can always come to me, not only for hugs you know? I hate when you’re too hard on yourself.“

“I know. But it just feels like shit when you’re partly responsible when your team loses… during your debut too.“ You tried to avoid her gaze by looking down at your shoes.

“You already played once for England so it’s not really your debut, love…“

You sighed, obviously she was right. “You know what I mean. Playing from the start… at home.“

Grace nodded slowly: “Sorry, of course.“

“But everyone’s been nothing but nice to me and it feels all wrong!“, you complained. You blinked back a few tears.

Lucy appeared on your side again with a deadpan expression: “No, that’s just how a team sticks together.“

You slowly started to get frustrated with your sister. It seemed like she refused to understand your point of view.

“I just feel like I don’t deserve it, you know?“

“Oh I know.“, she replied and you paused for a second, surprised.

“Luce…“

She rolled her eyes once again: “Also Jorge had to remind me.“

“I’ll let you two talk alone, in peace.“, Grace said quietly, almost ducking out of the conversation.

Gratefully, you squeezed her hand: “Thank you, Grace.“ Turning back to Lucy, you continued: “He had to remind you of…?“

“That I was just like you when I was younger. I still hate losing obviously but I don’t dwell on my mistakes that long anymore.“, Lucy revealed reluctantly.

You considered your sister for a moment: “How did you do it?“

“Losing and losing and losing again.“

“What? Really?“, you asked.

Lucy nodded solemnly: “Yes, one day you’ll get it.“

With a small smile you noted: “Also Graces hugs are helping.“

“Of course they are.“ Another eye roll, a defense mechanism as you knew.

You grinned: “Hey, do I have to remind you of Ona comforting you after the lost World Cup Final?“

“Shut up.“

“Never.“

Lucy grimaced, sticking out her tongue: “Be nice or I’ll make you rewatch your failure again!“

“Nooo.“, you drawled with a laugh.

Bickering with your sister always made you feel better.

“Don’t fight. I already missed her smile.“ Grace had reappeared with a kiss on your cheek.

Lucy shrugged: “That’s how you show love in the Tough-Bronze household, Grace!“

“That doesn’t sound very pleasant.“, Grace wrinkled her nose.

You took you girlfriends hand in yours: “Let’s leave, Grace.“

“Okay.“, she complied happily.

“Fine, but say hi to our parents!“, your sister called after you.

“I’ll!“

“Good girl!“

“Hi, everyone.”, you waved at your mum and dad, unsure what else to do.

“Hello y/n. We’re so proud of you.”, your mum hugged you, and pressed a kiss to your heated cheek.

“Thanks, mum.”, you answered quietly.

“The next time you’ll win against the French, I can feel it in my bones.”, your dad winked at you, he hoped this would make you smile, because he hated to see his children especially his youngest sad.

“Your granddaughter thinks so too.”, you responded with a small smile.

“And she must know it, trust me.”, your brother hummed.

“We’ll see next week.”, you said earnestly.

The next day you felt nervous. Sarina Wiegman has asked to have a conversation with and even though you remembered Lucys words from yesterday where she said that the England Coach was full of praise about you in front of your mum, there was a little voice inside your head telling you it must be bad news from her.

“Ah, thanks for coming y/n, sit down.”, Sarina looked up delighted, nodding into the empty chair opposite from where she was sitting.

Like you expected the Dutch woman came straight to the point, leaving all the nice English necessities at the door:” When you were involved in the own goal, you were not mentally in the game, right? You seemed distracted for a second.”

“Yes, I promise this won’t happen again. To be honest I was thinking about an offer I got.”, you promptly confessed. There was no use in being dishonest in front of Sarina who with her glasses seem to look straight into your heart.

“I see.. if you want to talk about it.”, she offered kindly.

“Sorry, I haven’t told anyone yet, first I thought it was a joke.”, you continued, feeling the weight of your shoulders getting a little less now that you were speaking the truth.

“I think you haven’t seen how much you’ve improved over the past few months. I’m sure whatever offer it’s, it wasn’t a joke.”, she remarked thoughtfully.

“It’s Barcelona.”, you retorted hastily.

“This is a big step.”, the Blonde observed.

“It’s but I’m not sure if I’m ready for that yet.”, you admitted truthfully.

“I trust that you’ll figure out what’s best for you, you’re still young.”, the Dutch reminded you warmly.

“But my family, friends and girlfriend are in England.”, you listed your personal reasons for a stay in London.

“Maybe you should talk to them about it. You need to get this out of your head.”, Sarina suggested.

“I’ll start with Grace and then Lucy.”, you decided.

You wanted to talk to your girlfriend about it as soon as possible, so when you both were getting ready to got bed, you chose to open up.

“Gracie?“

“Yes?“, she replied, slipping into her PJs.

“Can we talk? You might want to sit down for it…“ You grimaced, this sounded unnecessary dramatic.

Grace paused for a moment, taken aback but she quickly caught herself.

“Oh, sure. What is it?“ She sat down cross-legged on the mattress.

You could not look at her. “Barcelona offered me a contract.“

“Oh, wow. That’s amazing for you, babe.“, you heard your girlfriend say happily.

You looked up at her in confusion. Did she not hear you? Or did she not understand what that meant?

“Yes, but… you wouldn’t mind?“

Your girlfriend watched you with soft eyes: “We’re both football players, I know what it means to be able to play for Barcelona. If you want to go, I’ll support you. We can make it work.“

It was hard to find words for what you were feeling after hearing these words from her.

You swallowed around the lump in your throat: “You’re the best, Grace.“

“Don’t even worry about it.“, she smiled.

“I love you.“

“I love you too.“

After your surprisingly successful talk with Grace, you decided to keep the conversation more casual with your sister.

You were on your way to the stadium for the second match against France when you dropped into the seat next to Lucy: “Luce?“

She gave you an annoyed look, she was currently in a video call with her girlfriend.

“Since when are you sitting next to me? Scared of the game?“, she teased.

“Not about the game, it’s about an offer I got…“

Your sister perked up, ignoring Ona on the screen. You knew she was silent to eavesdrop on the conversation.

“An offer, huh?“

“Yes, Grace said she would support me going there.“, you smiled innocently.

Lucy frowned: “Where is it?“

“Barcelona…“

“What?! Of course you’re taking that offer!“, she commanded, her voice a bit too loud.

You grimaced uncomfortably: “What if I’m not good enough, Lucy?“

She shook her head with reassuring calmness: “They wouldn’t want you if you weren’t.“

“True… so you wouldn’t mind me joining your team?“

A smirk appeared on your sisters face: “I would force you to if I could.“

“Alright but I might have move in with Ona and you for a couple of days until I have an apartment.“, you smiled at her.

“Don’t worry, we’ll survive.“, she shrugged.

Ona called from Lucys phone screen: “My favourite Bronzey will move to Barca?! I’m so excited!“

“Me too, Oni.“, you grinned back at her while Lucy angled her phone towards you.

“Excuse me?!“, Lucy asked her girlfriend in mock offense.

“Can’t wait to see you again and meet the team soon… but we got a game to win now.“, you told Ona.

Lucy took the phone back and with an apologetic shrug said into the camera: “You heard her.“

“I did. Waiting patiently for your return, amor.“, Ona waved her goodbye through the phone.

You wrinkled your nose, looking at your sister: “Disgusting.“

Lucy just elbowed you in the side for your comment and told Ona: “I’ll be back before you know it. With or without my sister.“

She warningly raised an eyebrow, making sure you understood her threat but instead you just burst out in giggles.

The relief you felt after your talks lasted throughout the game. This topic stopped weighing your game down, your were back to your usual self and profited from a change of tactics.

It was a much better game that you won 2:1.

You jumped into Grace arms once the game was over. “We won, Grace!“

“You had an amazing game!“, your girlfriend cheered, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You basically vibrated with excitement. Wrapping your arms around her neck, you kissed her on the lips in front of the whole stadium.

Lucy stood to the side, watching this display with her arms crossed in front of her chest. She smirked at her coach who stood right beside her: “Young love, eh?“

“She’s not staying, right?“, Sarina asked.

“No but their love can handle this.“

Your feedback is always appreciated. <3

#grace clinton #grace clinton x reader #grace clinton imagine #woso angst #woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso community #woso one shot #woso oneshot #engwnt #lionesses #engwnt x reader #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze imagine

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flippinpancakes64 · 7 months ago

Text

The Cullens with a cat

Inspired by my cat who is currently running around my room at full speed

Edward:

I feel like you would have to sneak the cat in

Not that it would be easy since he can read minds and whatever

But I don't think he would agree to a cat

He thinks he is a monster who doesn't deserve love

That translates to animals as well

But he's totally the type to not want the cat and then become best friends with it

He won't go full cat dad and get it clothes and cute hats or anything, but he'll buy a shit ton of toys

His room is FILLED with so much stuff for this tiny little cat

He would have moved out his couch to make more room for it if the little kitten didn't like laying on it so much

He's very careful though

Hardly ever pets it unless it comes over to him and starts rubbing up on his leg

Overall 9/10 cat dad minus 1 point because he's basically cowering in fear over this little baby

Alice:

I get the feeling she'd love cats

The type to stop and pet one when she sees it on the street

Wouldn't be opposed to you bringing one home, but I can also see her bringing one home too tbh

Maybe she found it outside, maybe she saw it in a shelter, who knows

All you know now is that Alice has brought a tiny, furry cat into your room and she adores it

Can and will play dress-up with the cat

Cute bows, sparkly dresses, those little boots, you name it, the cat has worn it

I also feel like she'd prefer a longhair cat so she can style its fur

Also the type to put it on a leash and take it places

Or put it in her purse like it's one of those teacup dogs

8/10 cat mom, the cat took away 2 points because it probably wouldn't be fond of dress-up

Jasper:

Tbh he'd love the cat

He's always been on the quieter side, preferring to be by himself or with Alice

He would say no if you asked him for a cat, but also wouldn't push further if you insisted you really wanted one

In his mind, he told himself he would just ignore it, take care of it if you asked him to, but he immediately fell for it

He's drawn to positive emotions

So it's no secret why he wants to be around the fluffy ball of love and you when you're cooing over it

I also feel like he'd really enjoy the (mostly) chill nature of a cat

I feel like dogs probably overstimulate him tbh

More than once you've found him laying on his back with the cat on his chest just snoozing away

10/10 cat dad he loves that thing with all of his dead heart

Rosalie:

I think she's kind of indifferent

She doesn't really care either way

The only thing she would care about would be the smell

(Which she would easily fix by buying one of those expensive litter robots lol)

But after that she could care less

She gets a little hurt when you spend more time with the cat than with her, but if you're willing to just pick it up and have a group cuddle session, she doesn't mind

She'll take care of it if you ask her too as well

She'll clean up after it, feed it, give it water

But she won't really hang out with it

If the kitty comes over to her and snuggles up next to her or brushes up against her leg, she'll pet it but she won't drop everything she's doing

Overall 7/10 she does the bare minimum and she's not rude just indifferent

A cat roommate instead of a cat mom I suppose

Emmett:

Definitely popular opinion here but he's more of a dog guy

He would love to be able to run around with a big dog and play fetch

Not to say he'd hate a cat though

If you asked him if you could get one he'd say yes

On the condition that you let him get a dog of course

The only times he'll ever really interact with the cat is if you come up to him with it

Or if you're cuddling with it when he's in the room

He'll give it a couple pats on the head but he won´t know what to do past that

He would love a playful cat though

I can imagine big, burly Emmett holding one of those little feathers on a string as a cat jumps after it

He'd love it

8/10 cat dad confused but he's got the spirit

Esme:

Ultimate cat mom

Very likely that you didn't even have to ask, she already had one

She will buy her cats only the best everything

That wet cat food from the cans that are expensive

Only the highest priced litter robot

Maybe even diamond plated food bowls idk

The first time it coughs up a hairball she freaks out and wants to take it to the vet

Carlisle better learn veterinary science quick

In all seriousness that cat becomes her baby

She is cradling it, whispering and singing to it, dressing it up in little clothes, taking it everywhere

She didn't let it jump on to any surfaces for a while, always insisting on picking it up and setting it there

Like Edward, this cat basically has a room all to itself

Cat trees, scratching posts, cat beds, hammocks, automatic feeders, one of those little water fountains, like three robots

Literally spoiled

11/10 that is her child. Might as well be her flesh and blood

Carlisle:

He's got a lot on his plate

A whole family of vampires that he needs to make sure is well hidden

A very stressful career as a doctor

The treaty with the wolves

Literally everything in the whole plotline sort of falls onto his shoulders

If you ask him for a cat I feel like he would say yes, but he wouldn't be too happy about it

All he can think is that this is going to be another one of those things that he has to take care of

If you prove that you can take care of it all by yourself though, he'll come around

You'll find him in his office late nights working on some records from the hospital with the cat snuggled safely in his lap

If there are any visitors to the Cullen house his favorite prop to appear more human is to hold the cat

If you ask him he'll say he always loved the cat, but that's not true

9/10 cat dad. Very peaceful, he just loves to chill

Vampire! Bella:

She's a cat lady

Before she moved to Forks and even during her early time there, she was a loner

All she did was hang out at home and read

That's stereotypical cat mom right there

I feel like maybe she didn't have a cat because she thought she couldn't handle the responsibility

She's changed so much since becoming a vampire, she's definitely ready for one now

She would have forgotten her old human wish for a kitty until you brought one home though

You wouldn't even really need to ask

I feel like she would find a lot of comfort in the cat

It would ground her to her old human life

Make it easier to remember

She wouldn't go all crazy with buying stuff for it though

However she would take care of it

A lot of the time you'll find her zooming to get up and feed it as soon as it starts meowing for food

And you'll find the two of them cuddling whenever she's reading

Overall 10/10 very comfortable very human

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ayeyolooo · 16 days ago

Text

slow to anger, and slow to speak.

hiii my babies! so i’m trying something new:) i’m going to put the title then the bible verses that’ll be getting used, meaning im going to have different scenarios and im going to incorporate how to use the bible verses in your everyday life! but with the characters of course :) this is a bit long!

proverbs 15:1 , james 1:19-20 and colossians 3:13

part 1 (this is part 1 ) part 2

you and choso argued with eachother very little. but when the both of you did argue.. it wasn’t nice. you were a bible driven girl and choso was a God fearing man. No that didn’t make the both of you perfect, in fact the two of you fell short of Gods glory on countless times. One of the times being right now.

The two of you were arguing over choso being extremely close to nobora while choso was upset with you for always hanging around megumi. It was just a whole misunderstanding though. Nobora went to choso when she needed advice on her relationship with megumi, while megumi and you were the best of friends.

“NO CHOSO YOU’RE ALWAYS AROUND HER, EVERYTIME IM NOT WITH YOU , YOU’RE WITH HER.” you shouted. choso jerked his head back in offense to that. “yeah like you don’t be up under megumi y/n, man get outta my face.” he sucked his teeth and continued to play 2k.

“That’s not fair choso.. you know good and well i go to him for everything, i go to him for advice and i go to him to ask about things that you like since you’ve known him longer than i’ve known you.” he just looked at you. “honestly y/n this is getting tiring and it’s like you don’t try to hear me out or anything. you just be fast to talk, and you stay yelling, and i’m simply not going to put up with this.” he simply shrugged and turned his game off. “what do you mean?” he shrugged his shoulders. “exactly what you take it as, i don’t want to be with you because i’m unhappy, here with you. You don’t care about other peoples feelings, you don’t care about half of the stuff that i care about.” he bluntly pointed out. which was not true.

you cared for him, and he was speaking out of anger. your heart dropped at his choice of words. you only yelled because you care. him acting careless was painful. choso picked up his keys and walked out of your room. you followed behind him. “wait where are you going are we going to talk it out?” you grabbed his arm and followed him to the door. he just looked at you. “no i don’t want to talk anything out with you, until you learn how to stop talking backwards and out of your butt then you can hang this relationship up, you make me unhappy and i’m tired of it.” he harshly snatched his arm from you as your heart started to beat fast, all of this happened too fast.

he slammed the door in your face , as you allowed warm tears to travel down your face. your throat closed up as you walked passed the living room where yuji, megi, gojo, nobora, inumaki and panda was residing at. yuji and megumi was playing madden together as gojo, inumaki, panda and nobora was playing uno. laughed erupted in the living room as loud chatter filled the room.

since the stairs were connected to the living room everyone seen you run up the stairs with your hand on your mouth. “y/n?” megumi called out. he was about to stand up and follow you but gojo just shook his hand and placed his hand on megumi’s stomach lightly pushing him back. “give her some time, i’ll go up there in a minute.” gojo reassured megumi , megumi clenched his cheek sliding his tongue across his top teeth before nodding and sitting back down.

he didn’t like the fact that his bestfriend was crying. Or sad, and he couldn’t do anything about it. Gojo heard everything, but he stayed quiet , not wanting to be in your business, but it seems like he needed to be a father figure at the moment. he didn’t want his children fighting. although gojo wasn’t your real dad, he acted like one to everyone which is why he cared so deeply about everyone. gojo made his way up the stairs hearing your soft sniffles and hearing the voicemail from your phone. you just sobbed harder.

you weren’t trying to manipulate him or anything, when you feel like you aren’t being heard you had to elevate your voice, which wasn’t something that you were proud of. knock knock knock “y/n?” gojo trailed off. “hm?” he heard shuffling in your room. you opened the door and was met with gojo’s piercing blue eyes. “what happened why are you and pretty boy so upset with one another?” he laid on his side on your bed his shirt lifting up a little in the process. his feet dangled off the end of your bed as he just looked at you.

‘tek it.’ softly played on your tv as you began to explain to him what happened. “so choso and i gotten into an argument because i was trying to explain to him about my feelings and how i felt like him and nobora were getting a bit too close.” gojo nodded. “hmm, understandable but did you try letting him talk?” he tilted his head to the left. you just sighed in defeat and shook your head no.

“that’s your problem there y/n, you don’t allow him to open up, but then when he doesn’t want to talk about his feelings you get upset with him.” you just stood there looking dumb. “i know, and i regret it badly, i just wanted to talk it out.” you played with your fingers. “now im not gonna sit here and just pin you to be the bad person because he also does things, not just you.—“

“—and i’m going to talk to him about it, but as of right now you need to read proverbs 15:1 and james 1:19-20; really study it love.” gojo grabbed your pink bible and flipped to proverbs chapter 15 verse one. “here do you want me to read it to you?” you nodded. “okay.” he nodded before clearing his throat.

“A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.” (proverbs 15:1) his voice was soothing almost as if your dad was reading you a bedtime story. he handed you your journal and a pen. “now really meditate on this word and see what God is telling you here.” he points to the particular verse. “i heard the front door close, i’ll be back soon.” gojo announced , before slipping out of the door.

A/N

heyyy guyssss!!! i hope you all like the new idea! i just wanted to write these so that i can be transparent with you all about being a christian! and how it isn’t always dandy and rainbows !! we too fall short and i have the bible verses to guide the characters(and you ofc😊!) and lead them how God says in his word.😽

#ayeyolooo #black y/n #black reader #x black fem reader #jjk x reader #jjk x black reader #choso x black!reader #choso x reader #choso kamo

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rayassecretlife · 2 years ago

Text

Corrupt me

Pairing: 19 year old!Neteyam Sully x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Summary: Neteyam and you had been dating for many months but never went farther then a kiss since you were fairly innocent and didn’t understand much. One night when he slips through your window to see you, your hormones get the best of you and you turn to him for guidance.

Warning(s): Corruption kink, Mature language, Praise kink, F!ngering, squ!rting, aftercare :))), Kissing, etc.

“Come on!” You groan, tugging at the string that connected the small bracelet you had been making. It was about 1:00am and it was safe to say you had been working on jewelry for the past few hours. The night sky was dark and gloomy while the simple flower you had in your room lit the area, allowing you to see everything you had been doing. The bracelet was rather important to you being as it was for your boyfriend.

The small scraping noise behind you made your head turn quickly with a gasp, but to your relief and surprise, it was a very familiar face. “Hey, Syulang” You glare at your boyfriend as you stand to your feet, helping him through the small opening in your wall that acted as a window. “Why the face? Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“What are you doing here! What if my dad-“ He shushes your whispers, moving past you to sit on the floor where you had been making the bracelet. At this point there was no reason in keeping it from him. “I-it’s not finished” You try to reason but he chuckles, Picking it up to get a closer look. Did he not like it? Was it not the colors he liked?

You sat next to your boyfriend, grabbing the bracelet from him to put away. His eyes were strained on your own with a small laugh, arms pulling you close to his embrace. “I like that one” His reassuring words make you smile against his chest and you almost instantly nuzzle your head into him, the warmth from his body radiating off yours perfectly. “I missed you, sorry for the surprise visit”

“You saw me hours ago” You lift your head, laying your chin against his chest and his eyes met your own. “I missed you too” A smile tugged his lips as he cupped one side of your face, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. His lips were soft against yours but also cold, like they’d been waiting to touch your own for hours.

You and Neteyam had been dating for only a few months but you’ve known each other since you were young. You were the daughter of one of his father’s greatest warrior’s, and Neteyam couldn’t stay away from the fact he couldn’t have you growing up. Your father protected you from boys, most of the time having to break apart you and Neteyam because you never knew what you had been doing was flirting.

You were 18 but rather innocent. You didn’t know how a lot of things worked with mating and boyfriends due to your father always keeping you so out of the loop but all you knew was that you had this undeniable liking to Neteyam and you couldn’t ignore that. You couldn’t ignore the way he made your heart beat faster whenever he was near.

Neteyam was the one that would guide you through certain things; like the first time you held his hand, or when you kissed him having no idea how to kiss. He’d explain everything to you, the way you felt and how he felt it all too. You feared he would look at you as immature for not knowing but it was quite the opposite. He found you so adorable when you would look at him with those doe eyes, hesitant to kiss him.

The farthest you’d ever gone was making out, but that was because you’d often get carried away off that lustful feeling you weren’t used to. You loved him, that’s really what it was. You just wanted to be close to him.

You couldn’t help yourself. He smelled of the forest and vanilla, like a sweet candle the people in the lab had laying around. Maybe it was the fact your body had been looking for something it didn’t know of, or the thought that perhaps he wanted to explore every part of you made your skin explode with heat. Usually it was just kissing between the two of you, but lately you had felt so much differently.

Your lips detach from his but your face is still very close to his, eyes looking up at his for guidance as they always did. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip as he lets out a small huffed out laugh, “What is it, Syulang?” Your stomach turned at the sound of his voice, and that funny feeling you’d been having for weeks came back almost instantly. It felt like this burning sensation between your legs but it didn’t hurt, only becoming annoying to the point you almost wanted to touch where it came from.

His eyes study yours as your mouth opens slightly, but soon closes with your lips pressed together. You didn’t know what to think, you didn’t know what it was and you were afraid he would think you were weird for asking him if he knew. You shake your head with a closed mouth smile before leaning up to kiss him again, and that is the exact reason Neteyam knew you so well.

“Y/N, Baby” He pulls away gently, his hand still cupping the side of your face. He could tell you were holding back from telling him what you needed, but he wasn’t going to let you throw yourself into him to change the subject. “Talk to me” His words are soft and his eyes are softer, understanding as they stare into your own. You sigh and shift in front of him, feeling the weird feeling slightly grow as his free hand caresses the side of your arm.

“I feel weird” You start, looking up at him with a softening face. You genuinely didn’t know how to get rid of this feeling and that’s all you wanted. You wanted to rid this void inside your body. “There’s this… feeling I’ve been getting when you touch me and I-I don’t know how to make it go away” your voice is so clearly begging for him to help you but he’s just as confused as you are.

“What feeling?” He asks in his low voice, pressing his hand to the small of your back. You were so nervous, what if something was wrong with you? Your ears are batting down as you look at him through your eyelashes, you didn’t know what you were feeling. “Does it hurt?”

“Sometimes, if I’m around you long enough” You inform with hesitancy, placing your hands over your lap. His eyes don’t miss where you had landed them, seeing you were trying to hide your loincloth from sight. “It feels like… like fire all over my body. My skin is hot and it scares me” You breathed, fixating on his necklace to miss his gaze.

His mind is slowly but surely putting the pieces together but it almost seems impossible for you to feel such things. He always knew you’d come around but this soon? That wasn’t apart of the plan. He reaches down to push your hair behind your ear, hooking a finger under your chin to lift your head up.

“Do you want to show me where it hurts?” Of course you did. You wanted him to make all of your pain go away but you were unsure he’d be able to. He didn’t know what was wrong with you and neither did you, you didn’t even know why you told him. Your hesitant in his grasp but softly nod before grabbing ahold of his large hand, watching his eyes scan your body for where his hand would meet. he was looking at you seriously, his intense yellow eyes boring into your own.

“It’s…” Your voice is trailing and he can see your nervousness right through your body, now grabbing hold of your hand to give it a small and reassuring squeeze which made you look up at him.

“Let me” You wanted to question what he meant but you didn’t, listening to his every word while keeping your eyes on his as his hand explored your cold skin. He watched your expressions at every point he hit, some making you shiver and others making your ears fall. He was driving you insane.

Finally, his hand is ghosted above your loincloth, very slowly moving down till he was inside of it, making a gasp leave your mouth as your hand quickly moved down to stop him from going lower. “Here?” He asks genuinely, earning an embarrassed nod of your head.

“C-can you make it go away?” You ask desperately, praying to Eywa he was willing to help you. There you were, his adorable innocent girlfriend who was so clueless you didn’t even know your own body’s pleasure. He doesn’t respond, only leaning down to press his soft lips against yours.

He pulls away with one swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip, the tip of his nose nudging yours. “I can help you but you have to trust me” He tells you truthfully, waiting for your answer which you so obviously told him you did. You trusted him with your life. “Let’s move to the hammock then, Hmm? Want you to be comfortable”

You follow the boys orders and lay yourself on your hammock, moving over to make room for him to join you. His large body slowly moves onto the hammock, hovering over your small frame. Your eyes are slightly big as your heart is beating from your chest, you and Neteyam had never been in this position and it definitely intimidated you. He catches wind of your nervousness and quickly leans down to kiss your lips sweetly, as if it was a reward or a reassurance.

“Want you to relax for me. I won’t hurt you, Tìyawn” He speaks against your lips before moving to your jaw, peppering it’s soft skin with kisses as one of his hands moved down your chilling body. The feeling between your legs was growing now and you wondered if he actually knew how to make it better, it was only becoming more unbearable then before.

But you laid relaxed for your boyfriend, trusting in his actions. Neteyam would never hurt you and that was a known fact, but you had no idea what to think when he’s above you like this. It was all so… new?

“Neteyam!” You let out a quiet gasp once he unties your loincloth, earning a raise of his eyebrow from him. You hesitantly nod your head, leaning it back to try and relax like he had asked of you. The tips of his fingers tease the skin of your thighs, ghosting over the insides like he had been drawing lines all over them. Your hands slowly find their way to his hair, slightly tugging on it so he’d pull his face in front of your own. You wanted him to kiss you because If he did, you wouldn’t have to worry.

He of course, read you like a book and pressed his lips against your own with a slight hunger to it, a feeling you rarely saw from him. “Quiet” He mumbled between kisses, silencing your gasp with his mouth as you felt his fingers ghost your forbidden area. You were so nervous, you thought you weren’t supposed to touch there… why was he aloud to? You didn’t understand anything, not even about yourself.

But you trusted him.

Your legs are shifting under him as he lets one of his fingers touch you, a slight grunt leaving his mouth at the feeling between them. You were wet, so fucking wet… and you didn’t know? Sometimes he didn’t understand your innocence. “Neteyam… it… it’s worse” He shushes you with another kiss before laying his forehead against yours, letting out a small chuckle.

“I know, Sweet girl. It’s gonna get worse before it gets better. M’gonna take care of you, I promise” His words are sweet and soft against your ear, fingers touching your forbidden area like they were meant to be there. His thumb pressed against your swollen bud, feeling as your cunt clenched around nothing in anticipation. He had to of been teasing you.

His tongue is gently gliding along your skin with care as his thumb rubs circles to your clit. Your eyes were strained shut at the sudden pleasure, the sudden feeling that wasn’t so weird anymore. It felt good. Neteyam watched your face contort from the feeling, pressing the back of your head against the loom under you. You were so beautiful like this, all hot and bothered just by his presence. You made him absolutely feral and had you not have been so innocent, he would’ve took it all the way with you.

But now his lips are trailing down your neck, against your shoulders and collarbone, up until he couldn’t go any father due to your chest piece. He hums to make you reopen your eyes, watching him slightly tug of the fabric. You look at him with hesitancy but shortly nod your head, watching as he untied the clothing from your top.

Your body was bare under him and you never felt more exposed. Sure, Na’vi we’re already practically naked all the time but he could see every detail in your body; every dip, every line, the curve of your breasts, and your hardened nipples. He was staring, oh eywa, does he not like me anymore? You tried to find the answer but your thinking was cut predominantly short as he leans his head down, reenacting his actions from before against your skin.

“You are so beautiful, Y/N” He says lovingly, making your heart explode and stomach flutter with butterflies. You let out a soft moan which made his ears perk, eyes glancing up at your desperate body. His mouth was so close to your nipple, and for a second you thought he wouldn’t of done anything with that, but you couldn’t of been more wrong.

“Tey…!” Your whispered moans flew from your mouth and you couldn’t stop them, placing your hand on his head as you watched him swirl his tongue around your hardened nipple, meeting your eyes with his big yellows. Was this even aloud? You didn’t even know people touch there… your breathing heavy under him, pulling his hair from his face to gain a clear view of him, watching his every move while his finger practically attacked your clit.

“Need you to relax for me, baby” You gain frustrated at his words, weren’t you already relaxed? His hand pressed down on your stomach that heaved, giving you a small chuckle with the shake of his head. “Gonna take the feeling away now, Y/N. You have to be quiet though because It’s gonna feel weird at first, okay?” His free hand strokes your cheek and you nod, giving him permission to do basically whatever he had wanted with you.

He released your nipple and moved back up to your lips, capturing you in his embrace as his digits move up and down your slit. Your slick covered his fingers with ease, and you couldn’t help but moan against him at the foreign feeling. You notice his hunger against your lips increase, and his tongue slipped into your mouth as the same time his finger did your entrance, making you gasp.

His free hand continues to caress your cheek in hopes to sooth you, pressing one of his large, slender fingers deep inside you. You didn’t understand. You didn’t understand how you thought this was so wrong all your life… It didn’t feel weird anymore—it felt so, so fucking good.

Neteyam doesn’t miss the way your hips wind against him to gain more friction, pulling away from your lips with a smirk. “See? And you were all nervous” He smiles through his bitten lip before kissing you again, falling in love with your lustful eyes all over again. You let your hands hold the sides of his head as you match his pace against your lips, bending your legs to press against his sides as he curled his finger against your gummy walls.

He cursed himself. You were so innocent and cute, so new and fresh. You’d never been touched before, and he wanted it to be him that corrupted your innocence. He could feel his cock getting harder against the cloth by the second, thinking about how it would feel to really corrupt you. Your cunt was slipper around his digits, and warm to the touch as if it had been preparing for someone to touch it all this time. You were perfect in every way he imagined; from your beautiful moans, to your breathtaking body, you were his and his only.

“Neteyam… it’s…” You try to find the words once you pull away but nothing comes out, although he knew exactly what you wanted. From the way your cunt clenched around him profusely, trust in Eywa, he knew.

“More? You want more, don’t you?” He aims to tease you but you don’t care anymore, nodding your head desperately and nudging your nose to his. “My sweet, innocent girl” He chuckles, pulling his dripping finger out of you, allowing another to join. “If this is what you’ve felt for so long, you should have told me” He watches you, slowly pushing his ring and middle finger inside you. Your gasp isn’t enough, his fingers were large and believe, they were stretching you.

“I… I didn’t know what it was” You sigh, gripping his shoulders as you lay your head back, breath shaky against the air. He hums as if to ask if it was okay and you slowly nod, looking at him to see his eyes low, looking at what he had been doing to you. “Yes, yes this is what I wanted” was this what they did when mating? Now you were curious. This felt so different but so good, almost forbidden to a point.

Using the same movements before, Neteyam’s fingers curled inside you, this time making you jolt as he reached a certain spot you didn’t even know you had, and your hand pressed against his stomach.

“That’s a good thing, my love. Did it not feel good?” He questions but knows the answer just off your heavy breathing. You close your eyes for a second before releasing his stomach, placing your hands on the back of his neck. He smirks, leaning down to kiss you once more before moving to your ear, restarting his pace from before against you. Your quiet moans were more then enough to tell him everything, to show him what you needed the most. “Such a good girl letting me corrupt you like this—fuck, you turn me on so much” He wanted to palm himself so bad but held back, noticing the slightly louder moan you let out at the name he had called you. You liked that; you liked when he called you that.

“Tey… it’s back—it’s-“

“Your gonna come, pretty girl” He hums, placing sloppy kisses against your sweet spot on your neck. That feeling was back but ten times worse now, like you had to pee almost. His fingers are moving faster into you now, curling against that spongy spot you were so weak to. “Come for me, Sweet girl. Just let it happen” He knew you were nervous but every moan was like another reason for him to keep going, knowing on the inside you were chasing that release, you just didn’t know that.

He notices your moans get louder by the second and quickly moves to kiss your lips, muffling every single one as he felt your release just barely tip over, your legs straining against him and your cunt clenching around his fingers horribly. He coaches you against your lips, holding your body still. He knew you were going to let go. You had to.

“Teyam…!” You gasp against his lips, feeling the pleasurable feeling wash over you like a huge wave, and you could hear the sound of his fingers pumping inside you only increase, helping you ride out the high you had came from. Your moans were loud against his lips and your nails were drawing lines against his back, sure you’d left some blood.

“Good girl—fuck, just like that, keep going” Your boyfriend coaches, your legs were shaking horribly and you somehow were still not breathing normally. Neteyam pulled away from your lips, looking down between the two of you to see the mess you had made. You grew worried as to why he had been staring for so long, reaching down to lift his chin.

“W-what is it? Did I do something I wasn’t supposed to?” You ask worried but he quickly shakes his head, a smile pulling at his lips as he pulls his fingers from inside you, holding them in between your faces so you could see. “I…your hand…” you look at his hand dumbfounded, watching as your slick drips from it gently onto your collarbone. You did all that? How was that even possible.

“Your incredible, Y/N” He chuckles, leaning down to kiss your lips once more before bringing his hand close to his mouth making your eyes widen.

“Neteyam, no! That’s… that’s gross!” You try to protest as he slips one of his fingers into his mouth, closing his eyes at the sweet taste of your slick against his tongue. You wanted to stop him, to tell him how disgusting that was, but you couldn’t. He looked so pretty like this, and you loved watching him taste you.

He pulls back with a pop and leans down to you, bringing his other finger close to your lips to watch your frantic eyes. “Come on, Sweet girl. You taste so, so good” You look at him a little longer hesitant before opening your mouth for him, sticking your pink tongue out for him to slip his finger inside.

The taste is weird at first but after closing your mouth around his finger, you find yourself relishing in it. You tasted sweet and fresh, like a forbidden foreign berry that didn’t exist. Your eyes shut as you run your tongue around his digit, not even noticing his loving eyes that stared at you.

When he pulls his finger from you, your eyes open to him sitting up on his knees in front of you, and your eyes can’t help but notice that pool or water-like stains on his loincloth and stomach, some running down his thigh. “Was… was that me?”

“All you, baby” He says proudly but you don’t understand, only moving to sit back so you could get a better look. You look down at the floor under your hammock, noticing it had been wet too. Neteyam senses the worry in your eyes and shushes you, lifting your chin away from the sight. “It’s a good thing, my love. A very, good thing”

Neteyam removes himself from your hammock to move over to your chest of clothes that secretly hid some of his own, not even bothering to look back at you as he takes off his loincloth. He’s facing away from you but your eyes are only looking at his body, smiling at the way his muscles showed in the light and how his back flexed whenever he moved.

“Are you leaving?” You ask slightly nervous, waiting for him to put on a dry loincloth. You didn’t even know what happened, but you were scared he was going to leave after. What if he never spoke to you after this? What if-

“Are you kicking me out?” He raises an eyebrow as he turns toward you, walking over to you with a cloth in his hand. “Lay back” You glare at him. Again? There was no way you could do that again! “I’m just cleaning you up, Syulang. Need you to lay back so I can dry you off, okay?” His hands are gentle against your thighs as he opens them, waiting until your fully laid back to wipe off your dripping core and thighs. You look at him with a smile, cheeks growing hot as you watch him. He was so adorable, taking care of your body like it was his own. He notices, shaking his head. “Hmm?”

He tosses the cloth in your basket before walking back over to you, slipping onto your hammock where you moved to make room for his large body. His big arms open to you, allowing you to lay your head on his chest comfortably with your legs entwined. You were warm against him, you didn’t even need the blanket that laid atop of you.

“I love you, my mighty warrior” You hum, tracing circles against his chest that vibrates when he laughs and tells you he loves you ten times more, his fingers stroking your hair. “I have one more question before we go to sleep”

You look up at him, laying your chin against his chest. “And what’s that?” A smirk pulls at your lips, the question making your insides churn in the best way possible.

“How does mating work?”

Had a love/hate relationship with this one… but first upload this week!!! Next up: Jake sully smut 😏

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#avatar fanfiction #avatar the way of water #avatar #avatar 2 #avatar x you #avatar james cameron #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam sully x y/n #neteyam x reader #atwow neteyam #neteyam gif #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam smut #neteyam suli x reader

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