#do you care about the people you claim to help or are you just patting yourself on the back for being such a good generous person

[jacepi-time]

Being so self-righteous that you refuse to listen to criticism about scams and believe any liar on the internet doesn't help victims, it just puts money in the pockets of thieves

Your acts of self-righteous wrath is vigilantly stamping out voices crying for justice and stealing money from victims to fill a con man's pocket

[hxney-lemcn]

Mine, Only Mine — Mr. Crawling, Gap, Silvair, Chopped, Hugeface, and Scarletella x gn! reader

summery: how jealous do some of the Homicipher boys get?

tw: unhealthy relationships (Mr. Hugeface & Scarletella)

wc: 1.2k

Master List

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Crawling

❥I know people have written about how he gets jealous…but I don’t really think he does? Or at least not terribly. The scene with Mr. Chopped and the cat ears show that Mr. Crawling won’t pout or get sad at you showing affection to others, just that he wants to gain the same attention (the ear scene…). So jealousy with Mr. Crawling isn’t too bad, just be prepared to shower him with more affection than the person you originally did. 

❥On the other hand, I do think his jealousy may increase if you ignore him. Say you give more attention to Mr. Scarletella, Mr. Crawling would get a bit sad and pouty, thinking you don’t like him anymore. If this happens, give him lots and lots of attention and reassurance, he’ll be super grateful. I mean he loves your affection anyways, so might as well give him some extra headpats and kisses. Even better if you only show certain signs of affection with him, it makes him feel special. 

❥Overall, not the most jealous, but not completely unaffected either. Make sure he gets his daily dose of attention/quality time and he’ll be as right as rain.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Gap

❥Uh, he gets more jealous than you’d think. Like…his whole thing is he wants to be special to you…in his own strange way. Doesn’t like the thought of someone taking his place as a jokester to you. Also why he brings you things he’d think you like from time to time, just to make sure you still have that special place in your heart for him <3

❥Hates hate hates when you call him bad or not good. He’s good! He swears! Remember how he’s helped you before! Gets all frowny when you call him not good and then call someone else good. He’s good too! Guess he has to prove it, AGAIN. It’s honestly kind of endearing how he has no clue how he actually kind of does like you? But not exactly in a romantic way? It’s honestly hard to label his feelings towards you, so why should I?

❥I’d say he’s the second most jealous in this list of characters, watching on angrily as you praise someone that isn’t him. Be prepared for magazines and books galore when he’s in this mood, trying to prove his worth to you. Kind of strange for someone to try so hard when they claim to not like you…

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Silvair

❥Definitely the chillest one here. Doesn’t really get jealous at all :/ If anything, he finds it entertaining when you’re affectionate with others. Gives him more insight to his lab rats. Yes, he sees everyone as a lab rat. Idk, I can’t really see him get jealous.

❥Maybe…MAYBE if someone else tries doing research on you, or if Ms. Nurse treats you instead he’ll feel a bit off. Like…you’re his test subject, he knows you from the inside out…literally and not in the fun sense. Why would you go to someone who doesn’t know as much about you and how this world affects you? It’s very hard to spot his jealousy, doesn’t even notice it/recognize it himself. He just doesn’t want anyone to mess up his data…that’s all…totally.

❥In conclusion, not really jealous. Doesn’t feel like he needs to be. You’re ‘friends’, doctor and patient, mad scientist and lab rat not many others threaten that balance between you. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Chopped

❥Honestly…Mr. Chopped I’m kinda mixed on how he’d be. Like on one hand, I could totally see him getting jealous if you call others cute or pay too much attention to them. On the other…he could probably care less. He loves himself, you love him, why does he need to get jealous? It’s clear how much you like him with the way you pamper him. I mean we get so many examples where you’re affectionate to Mr. Crawling in front of Mr. Chopped and he doesn’t really bat an eye. 

❥Now, I can see if he gets a bit insecure he might get more jealous. Whether it be because Mr. Crawling pats your head or tucks you into bed, Mr. Chopped feels a bit sad. He’d like to tuck you in, you look so comfy. Might be just a bit pouty, eyeing you like a dissatisfied cat. Easily rectified with head pats or even cuddles. Gets side tracked from his jealousy as soon as you give him a sliver of attention honestly.

❥Mr. Chopped is fifty fifty when it comes to jealousy, but it’s never too bad. He’s pretty comfortable with what you both have and doesn’t really feel threatened by others. After all, you did call him cute.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Hugeface

❥I wouldn’t say he gets jealous? More possessive than anything. Like that scene when Mr. Machete stumbles into his little makeshift dollhouse that he made for you and gets all angry that he’s there. It’s more of a ‘you’re not supposed to be here, this is our playtime’ more than actual jealousy. Throws a little fit whenever someone messes up your playtime. Very accusatory lmao.

❥Does not like when you try to escape. Was he not providing enough for you? Were you unhappy? You’re not allowed to leave! You’re his cute human! He can’t just find another one y’know. Mr. Hugeface may be lenient if he sees you happier, you need enrichment after all. Feels extra happy if you come back on your own violation. 

❥The most childish out of all the characters on this list. Isn’t afraid to throw tantrums, will also punish you by putting you in a solid concrete cube if he’s really upset. Yeah…not the most healthy of relationships to have…BUT! I do think you could convince him to be a bit better…? Maybe? Only if you put enough work in communicating with him though. Maybe punish him in your own way like leaving for longer if he threatens to trap you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Scarletella

❥Uhhhhhhhhhhh. Top of the list when it comes to jealousy. Watches your every move with curiosity and spite. Why are you doing that to Mr. Crawling? Do it to him instead. Why do you look so happy braiding Mr. Chopped’s hair? Style his hair instead. Why are you looking so fondly amused at Mr. Gap? Don’t you find him amusing? You do like him, right? He likes you. He likes you a lot, and he thought he was enough…was he not?

❥Will stare through your skull. It is so intimidating. His smile? Strained, it makes your skin crawl. You have to make sure he doesn’t hurt your friends, he’s so close to snapping, but he knows that would upset you and that’s not his goal. So instead he stands ominously in the background, body staticing in and out while his hand clenches the handle of his umbrella. 

❥Not that easily mended. Likes to monopolize all your time and affection. Needs constant reassurance as well, he’s quite needy. If you like constant validation and no social life go for it, just don’t get too upset if he threatens your other monster friends…he can’t stand that you could like someone that wasn’t him.

[dearsnow]

BIRDS OF A FEATHER

- phoenix and her girlfriend set you up with a wso they insist will be right up your alley. (robert “bob” floyd x fem!reader, fluff, reader is meant to be similar to bob, ie quiet, sweet, and nerdy, mentions of being drunk/having sex but nothing explicit)

word count: 2,003

a/n - this fic is parallel HEAVY, so don’t be surprised if you see the same phrase passed around. it’s truly a mindlink esque situation lol. and it’s 100% self-indulgent because the reader’s personality is so similar to mine (i am nothing if not a self caterer)

“Nat, I’m really not sure.” Bob tries to protest. “You know I’m no good with dating and stuff. Who’s to say she’ll even like me?” Natasha pats him on the back, firmly enough for him to know she means it.

“You guys are birds of a feather. Trust me, she’ll like you.”

“Jamie, I just don’t know.” You frown. She’s trying to set you up with her girlfriend’s friend, claiming that you’d be the perfect match, but you know you’re not the most amazing when it comes to meeting new people. You’re slightly awkward at best, socially anxious at worst. “He probably won’t like me. And if we’re really so similar, don’t you think it’ll be stiff and weird because neither of us can say the right, flirty thing?”

“You don’t need to be ‘flirty’ to have a good connection. Not every relationship is going to be like Natasha and I, all fire and flame. Sometimes it’s slow, and slow is good. It’s exactly what you need.” Jamie chides, putting a soothing arm around your shoulder. “Trust me. Birds of a feather, right?”

You shift uncomfortably in the booth you’re sitting in, Jamie’s hand rubbing the side of your arm comfortingly. It’s ten minutes before your supposed double date, and Natasha affirms that it’s about five minutes before he shows up. “Bob’s always early,” she stated, “so we can be even earlier to give you some prep time.”

You’re quiet. Shy, even, and you don’t have the best track record with social events. You’ve never really had a date that understood why you don’t want to get roaringly drunk and have sex in a bathroom and whatnot. The two girls, one in front of you and one by your side, have assured you that Bob will be different. He’s quiet too, but he stands up for himself. He’s strong and capable, with a humble attitude and the slight southern charm that you can bring home to your parents. If he’s really so great, though, what the hell is he doing going out with you?

Bob can see your booth through the door of the diner, and he steels his nerves quietly. He’s got this. He’ll make it a nice dinner, a nice experience, and he will not, under any circumstances, fuck it up. He owes you that much. He knows he’s probably not what you want in a guy. Natasha described you as hardworking, kind, and a good listener. He can’t help but think that you deserve much better than him.

He takes a breath and pushes open the door, the flowers in his other hand a little damp from his sweaty palms.

When he finally rounds the server stand, he can see you. And you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever had the pleasure of setting sights on.

He’s royally fucked, he thinks.

Oh my god, he’s so hot. You smile at him and curse a bit under your breath, careful to not let anyone hear. He’s everything you imagined and more, with sandy colored hair, bright blue eyes, and glasses that look like they’re just a little crooked. If you were bold, you’d reach across the table and fix them as he sat down. You’re not, though, so you just fidget with your hands under the hard wood.

He clears his throat and hands you a small bouquet of daises, sliding into the spot across from you. Nat gives a little self-satisfied smile from next to him. “Hi. I didn’t know what you liked, so I hope that’s okay. I’m- I’m Robert by the way, or Bob, whatever you prefer.”

You think your cheeks will split open from how hard you’re smiling. It’s such a small gesture, but the blush on his cheeks tells you that it’s earnest. “They’re perfect. Thank you, Bob.” You introduce yourself with the next breath, and he shakes your hand like it’s a business meeting. His palms are warm and just a little bit damp, but when his fingers curl around your own like they were meant to fit together, you couldn’t care less. “So,” you begin, somewhat shyly, “you’re Natasha’s WSO?”

When Bob hears your quiet voice, he knows he’s in deep. “Yeah. She’s a great pilot.” His praise earns him an elbow from Natasha, a silent ‘talk about yourself, dipshit’ evident in the action. He smiles nervously. “We do a lot of the weapons bits so the pilots can fly safely. How about you, what do you do?”

“It’s not as important and exciting as your job, that’s for sure.” You laugh before explaining exactly what you do.

“Honestly, that is important and exciting. I’m sure you excel at it, too,” Bob offers, somewhat bashfully. What makes your head spin is that he seems like he means it. He’s sincere, wonderfully so.

As that statement quirks the corners of your mouth up, Bob’s heart explodes. You’re charming and beautifully sweet, with a pretty smile and dashing eyes to boot.

Jamie enters your conversation carefully, like she wants to help but isn’t forcing anything. Natasha pipes in a few times, but overwhelmingly, it’s you and Bob. Neither of you have ever spoken so much in this type of setting before, and it’s great. You bounce ideas and jokes and quips off of each other like you were meant to. You feel like you were meant to, because everything just comes so easily with Robert Floyd. You’re finally talking to someone who understands every bit of you, polishing the hidden parts of yourself until they shine. You never thought you could feel this way with another person.

“Wait, have you read this book called For One More Day?” You ask, finding every opportunity to drag out a subject you enjoy so deeply. “It’s really sad, like a fictional memoir, but I think you’d enjoy it. The whole story is basically an ode to loving your parents while they’re still around.”

“I haven’t, but I’ll be sure to check it out the next time I go go the library.” Bob says, giving a slightly lopsided grin that makes your heart scream. “It seems right up my alley though. I like non fiction books, mostly, but I could go for a change every once and a while.”

Your food is almost forgotten in the midst of the conversation, and his is too. “When you do read fiction, what genres do you go for? I have a million recommendations, so help me narrow them down a bit.”

Bob will never admit this to his friends, but he’s an avid reader. He’s a sucker for a true story or anything about dogs, however, he’d read anything you could ever think to tell him about. He has already made a mental note to check out For One More Day and is currently making more notes as you list off more dog-central books. You, as you’ve told him, go for more of the fancy prose-d, heavy drama-d, and emotion-filled stories. It’s nice to see you like this, talking about something you’re honestly passionate about. The light in your eyes makes you look like a ray of sunshine.

Jamie grins at Natasha from across the table, utterly and unashamedly content that her plot has worked. Natasha rolls her eyes. “Alright, you two,” Nat says, “can we move on to something more exciting? Like planning a second date, maybe. One where Jamie and I can be happy at home while you two nerd out.”

Bob’s face reddens and you give a small, sheepish smile. “I’d like that.” You say.

“Me too.” Bob adds. Natasha can firmly say that she’s never seen him so happy, not even after a successful flight. It’s like he’s finally found the thing that made him tick, like you reached into his chest and wound up the gear box in his heart. “I’m free this Friday, if you’re up for it.”

You tap your fingers on the tabletop, thinking. “This Friday… this Friday is when I’m doing a book reading for the kids at our local library at lunchtime. We could have dinner after that, though.” You want to spend the entire day with him, but if a few hours is all you’re given, you’ll take it. You’d take anything.

Bob’s hands move to touch yours, just barely. His warmth radiates out, perfectly soothing your nerves. “If you want, I can make lunch and help you out at the book reading. I like those kinds of things, but I don’t want to impose.”

“You absolutely should.” You breathe. “You wouldn’t be imposing at all. In fact, I think the kids would really like it if Mr. Naval Aviator read a few books to them. You’d be like a superhero in their eyes.”

You’re a bit astounded by how much Bob’s face flushes. If you thought he was a bit pink before, he’s got a drunk man’s glow now. And you were being completely, one hundred percent honest when you said that the kids would like him. They’d love him. Micah’s father was in the Navy when he was younger, so there’s one connection, and April loves airplanes with a passion. It would be amazing.

“Then I’ll be there. Here’s my number, so you can text me when and where.” Bob slides a little piece of paper over to you, one that he must have written a bit ago, because his pen is securely clipped to his pocket. He likes you so much he wrote down his number while you were (probably) explaining your love for reading, or crafts, or small animals? You’re going to swoon if he keeps this up.

Natasha eyes where your hand is touching Bob’s. “Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out. Now eat your food.” She gestures to your half-touched plates. You and Bob both stutter a little, completely having forgotten what you’re going to have to pay for.

The rest of the evening goes amazingly. You talk about so many subjects that by the end of the day, when the sun is slipping below the horizon, you feel like you’re floating on air— light and unburdened by the way you’ve been able to express yourself. Bob insisted on paying for your meal, and though you protested, a little part of you feels giddy that you’re worth spending money on. Bob walks you to your car, tucking your flowers into the cup holder between your seat and the passenger side.

“I really enjoyed that.” He muses. “I really enjoyed you. I thought Nat and Jamie were kinda full of it when they told me about this whole double date, but I’m glad they weren’t.”

“Me too, oh my gosh. I was totally expecting some stuck-up Navy nerd, but I’m glad it was you. I enjoy you too, Bob, probably way too much.” You’re standing by your door, but you feel like you can’t leave just yet.

He looks at you with something you hope to think is affection in his eyes before glancing down towards your lips. “I’ll let you get going. Text me anytime.”

You hesitate, staring up into his ocean blue eyes. Before you can stop yourself or tell yourself it’s a bad idea, you take the collar of his shirt in your hand and kiss him.

It feels right. His hand coming up to rest on your waist, his body pressed against yours as he stabilizes himself on your car, it’s everything you’ve always dreamed of. His lips work in tandem with your own, like they’re collaborating on some sort of secret mission, and he kisses you like he loves you.

His pupils are blown up and he’s panting just slightly when you pull away. He misses the feeling of your lips on his as soon as it ends, the tingling sensation working its way down his face. “T-Thank you���?” He whispers. You laugh, the sound music to his ears. He can hardly believe that that just happened.

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Definitely.“

You give him a small peck on the cheek and step into your car, so happy you think you could explode. As you pull out, and as he waves at you from the parking lot, you make an effort to remember to thank Jamie and Natasha.

Who would’ve thought that you really would be birds of a feather?

Taglist: @seitmai

[wandaslovey]

𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇’𝓈 𝓆𝓊𝒶𝓇𝓇𝑒𝓁

➺ pastor’s!wife!wanda x fem!reader

wc ~ 3.4k

a/n: i just finished watching love & death for the 4th time and it made me go absolutely feral for lizzie with a southern accent. i’m debating whether or not i want to make this a short series—especially writing a second part where i better establish the background of these two characters. let me know if you guys would like a part 2!

*not proofread*

cw: brief mentions of religious background, infidelity/cheating, forbidden relationship, legal age gap, established relationship, reader almost smokes a cigarette but doesn’t, punishment, [wo]man-handling, spanking, humiliation, inspection, finger licking/sucking, praise, mommy kink, reader is kind of a whiny brat in this fic (she’s really just overstimulated), and some fluff at the end

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ ୨♡୧ ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

you pace back and forth along the side of a red and white striped tent, kicking up some dirt and rocks as your feet drag. your skin feels like it’s tingling and your ears cringing at the sheer amount of sounds coming from the carnival you were currently at. you reach into your bra, retrieving one of the two cigarettes you had secretly stashed there unbeknownst to wanda. it was very unlike you—the smoking—but it was a nasty habit you picked up during your rebellious teen years. wanda had been trying to break you of it for months now. she’d gone as far as taking it upon herself to search through your things every time you two escaped to a town over to be together. any time she found a pack or a lone cigarette, she would throw it away claiming that her “sweet baby” shouldn’t be doing such a thing as “harming her own lungs.”

you hadn’t actually smoked one in awhile, but knowing you were coming here today, you stashed a couple in case you became overstimulated, which you now were. it didn’t help that you were already in a sour mood upon arriving here. wanda was all smiles and encouragement, happy and chipper to spend time with you. you weren’t sure why you were in such a poor mood, especially since you got to be with her, but at the moment you couldn’t care less about the series of events that may have drove you into this corner.

you pat your other breast, seeking the lighter but it wasn’t there. shit, you must’ve left it in your overnight bag or maybe in wanda’s car. with the cigarette hanging limply from your lips, you stupidly look around you as if there would be something around you to light it.

as you step out from behind the circus-like tent, you scan the small herds of people surrounding the area. there were so many families here along with couples and groups of young teens out with their friends. you hated being in places that were overly crowded. stepping out into this scene only made you feel worse and just when you were about to step back to your makeshift hiding place, you spot wanda walking rather briskly over to you. she was clutching onto the straps of her purse with two hands, her eyes intent on you as she made her way seamlessly through the crowds to get to you. normally, the look on her face would make you cower instantly, but you were in no mood to give into her dominating presence.

the cigarette that had been dangling from your lips was now stuffed back into your bra, your hands shoving themselves into the pockets of your t-shirt dress.

“now just where the hell did you think you were going? i’ve been looking all over for you, (y/n).” her southern accent bled into her words, which under different circumstances you loved, but right now that fact didn’t matter.

you cross your arms over your chest, taking a step around her as you attempt to walk away to blend in with the other crowds of people. she easily falls into step next to you, looking at you expectantly.

“i just needed a minute,” you say in a monotone voice, looking straight forward as you walk. clearly, she’s not sufficed with your answer. you count three, four, five steps before you feel her arm wrap around your bicep, her fingers curling tightly but not painfully as she pulls you back to the side, ducking around the corner of a carnival game tent.

“what is going on with you? you’ve been nothing but a fuss pot ever since i picked you up.” she uses her thumb and forefinger to hold your chin in place as you look up at her, her other hand still holding onto your arm. you feel your tough facade begin to crack, fissures seeping into your mind that made you want to cave and pout like the little girl you felt like right now.

“mm’fine wanda,” you mumble, looking at her pretty blonde cropped hair instead of her eyes. when you were in a mood like this, her eyes were the most dangerous place to look. those green orbs wielded more power than any god you’d ever been told to believe in.

“(y/n). look at me.” she commands, her fingers gripping more firmly onto your chin. she gently shakes your head back and forth until she gets the desired reaction and your eyes meet hers. you immediately feel a little more wobbly where you stand, her eyes all but piercing into your soul. “do not lie to me. ever. do you hear me little miss? i know something is going on with you.”

your bottom lip quivers slightly, jutting out into a pout and wanda watches your eyes widen and go soft around the edges, mimicking that of a guilty puppy. you hold eye contact with her for another second and all of a sudden the invisible cracks in your mind remold themselves. you harshly turn your head to the side, freeing your chin from her grasp. you didn’t want to give into her just yet.

“don’t wanna talk about it. let’s just go have some fun or whatever the fuck it is you’re supposed to do in this godforsaken shit show.”

you turn from her, already out in the midst of groups of other people before wanda can think about grabbing you again. from her place at the side of the tent, she watches you walk away, exhaling slowly to maintain her nerve before she catches up to you.

for the next hour or so, you go from tent to tent, playing the rigged games and forcing yourself to “have fun.” after being unkind to a couple of the attendants and giving her attitude for the last while, wanda was at her wits end. she had no idea what was going on with you and no matter how gently or forcibly she probed, you refused to tell her what was wrong.

it wasn’t until your final throw at a bean bag toss that she decided enough was enough. after hearing your “this was never my idea to be here” comment under your breath, she grabs your arm again, all but dragging you out of the carnival. there was a group of teenagers who stopped to watch you as you huffed, kicked and dragged your feet along as wanda pulled you wordlessly to the parking lot, but neither you nor she could care about that now.

she rummages through her purse with her free hand, angrily retrieving her keys at last as she unlocks the car. she opens the passenger back seat door, all but shoving you inside of it before shutting the door firmly behind you. she hurries to the other side, coming into the backseat with you.

a thick silence falls over the car, her eyes burning holes into the side of your face as you had yet to look at her. wanda wasn’t sure what to say—which approach would best get through to you in this moment.

“i’m going to give you one more opportunity to explain yourself before you’re in even bigger trouble than you already are.” her voice was artificially calm. anyone else would perceive her now as perfectly composed, but you knew better. you picked up on all the subtleties—the slight shake in her voice at the end of her sentence and her hands twitching ever so slightly. you had really pushed her today and you knew a punishment was inevitable. as you sat there in the silence of the car, you realized that subconsciously you were making today enormously difficult on purpose to earn her harsher hand. you were normally such a good girl for her, but today was about pushing buttons—and you really were overstimulated from everything at the carnival.

you glance at her from your peripheral vision, inhaling slowly as you begin to fidget with your hands in your lap. wanda’s normally impeccable patience had gone thin though, and when another beat of silence passed over the two of you, she was done waiting. she reaches over the middle seat, pulling your body till it was flush with hers. she lifts your legs over her lap, bending them in a slight awkward angle from being pressed against the side of the door. a gentle hand lifts your face, her fingers smoothing some of the frizz from your hair before she tucks the strands behind your ear.

“what happened to my sweet girl, hmm?” this time her voice was genuine and warm, her facial expression softening. she knew that paired with her sugary sweet sweetness and being wrapped up in her arms, you would melt. you could never deny the fact that regardless of your mood, you always wanted to be her good girl and to please her.

your pout from earlier came back full force as you began to feel a pang of guilt growing in your tummy. you had been unfair to her today, giving her attitude for no reason and denying her comfort at every turn. she deserved better.

your nimble fingers find the collar of her blouse and you fidget with the material absentmindedly. your brows pull together like you’re thinking hard about something as you stare at a random spot on her chest.

“i’m sorry, wanda,” you mumble, the edge of a whine in your tone. she strokes the back of your head, beginning to gently coax you into that fuzzy headspace you both love so much.

“well i sure do appreciate that, but an apology’s not what i asked for, is it?” you shake your head at her question, curling further into yourself to feel smaller in her lap. she easily adjusted her arm to support the new distribution of your weight while the hand on her other arm continued to caress the side of your cheek.

it was almost pathetic how easily you gave in to her touch. it had barely been a couple of minutes and you were already feeling much more compliant.

“i…it was just loud and bright,” you state simply in a small voice, offering no further explanation. you hoped she didn’t need clarification since you didn’t feel much like talking at the moment.

“the carnival? was my darling girl feeling a little overstimulated?” she asks sympathetically, tapping her finger against your cheek so you know to look up at her. your eyes slowly drag up her neck and her face until you’re looking in her eyes again. you nod once, your pout becoming impossibly deeper. she hums, a hand at the back of your head as she presses her lips against your forehead, planting a kiss there.

“i’m sorry sugar, mommy didn’t know. you have to tell me these things, honey. as much as i’d like to, i can’t read your mind.” she kisses your temple, watching your shoulders shrug in response to her comment. you wished she could read your mind. there were so many things you knew you needed to communicate to her that your stubborn refusal prohibited you from sharing.

“i really am sorry you were uncomfortable today sweetheart, that was never my intention. now i know for next time, right?” she pauses for a moment, noticing your line of sight was on your fingers that were still fiddling with her top.

“however, you did fail to communicate your needs with me despite the fact that i tried to get you to talk to me. on top of that, you were snotty and rude to not only me, but a few of the workers at the fair. you understand that is unacceptable, right?” she watches your head nod a few times, your eyes glazing over and she knows that right now, you’re her compliant little girl and you’ve already accepted your consequences.

“mommy’s gonna have to punish you. you understand why now, don’t you baby?” you nod once, but still clutch onto the collar of her shirt, your thighs pressing together as the word “punishment” passes through her lips. it doesn’t go unnoticed by wanda, but she chooses not to acknowledge it for now.

wanda gently pries your fingers from her shirt, maneuvering the both of you until you were face down across her lap. she had one of her legs crossed over the other so your lower back had a nice arch, your ass sitting higher in the air. she lifts your dress up over your rear, bunching the material at the middle of your back.

she hums to herself, her mouth watering slightly at the sight of your cute ass framed by your cheeky baby blue lace underwear.

“oh baby doll, you have the cutest, spankable cheeks, you know that?” the first teasing smack lands on your right cheek, already warming the skin. you groan at her question, feeling your panties dampen and the urge to press your thighs more firmly together.

“i’m going to spank you 40 times. i want you to count and say ‘i’m sorry mommy,’ for each spank. understood?” her hand caresses over the skin she just smacked, soothing the slight sting.

“yes mommy,” you reply, your voice muffled as your face was half pressed into the car seat. wanda purrs at your obedience, giving your ass cheek a squeeze. “good girl,” she murmurs, still rubbing your backside.

the first real smack lands on your left cheek, your body jerking slightly from the force. “one, i’m sorry mommy.” you breath out. you weren’t expecting her to start out so strong.

another blow. “two, i’m sorry mommy.” she measured the hit, ensuring she hit the same spot twice.

smack. “three, i’m sorry mommy.” you bite your lip, your core beginning to tingle.

smack. “four, i’m sorry mommy.” you feel your arousal continuing to wet your panties.

smack. “ffive—i’m sorry mommy!” you press your thighs together, only relieving a bit of the ache that was rapidly growing between your legs.

you hadn’t taken an inordinate amount of spankings, but you experienced enough that you knew that on average, the pain just surpassed the pleasure after about 18 hits. by the sixteenth one, your small pitiful whimpers turned to whines, and by the twenty-fifth the first low sob tore through your throat. tears were beginning to prick your eyes, threatening to roll down your pink tinged cheeks.

wanda pauses after the thirtieth spank, unable to ignore your increasingly squirmy little body. she could see your legs pressed firmly together, your body desperately trying to grind down onto her thighs. she tuts, tapping the back of your thigh in a silent command to open your legs. you feel a singular finger trace down your slit through your panties, the sticky feeling causing you to groan.

“oh sweetheart, look at you—all wet and sticky..” she trails off, her finger purposely rubbing up against your clit before she swipes back down to your opening. “you like it when mommy hurts you, don’t you?” it was mostly a rhetorical question, your arousal being evidence enough.

she brings her arousal coated finger up to your lips, which you eagerly suck into your mouth. you hum around the digit, swirling your tongue around it as any last rational thoughts you had turn to static.

“such a naughty baby. good little girls aren’t supposed to get so aroused by a punishment.” she pulls her finger from your mouth, a small popping noise emitting from the action.

“mommy,” you whimper pathetically, not quite sure exactly what you were begging for. you were past thinking clearly.

“shhh, i know honey. just 10 more spanks and then i’ll be done,” she runs a soothing hand down your back and then presses it down in the middle of your lower back. her last 10 smacks are just as harsh if not more than the other 30. by the end, the tears that been building in your eyes were spilling down your cheeks and you begin sniffling as your nose starts to run.

her hand carefully rubs across your now red, inflamed skin. she marvels at the sight. it was a bit sadistic, but she loved seeing the aftermath of a good spanking.

“mmm, i love it when you cry for me, baby.” her other hand finds its way into your hair, her fingernails gently scratching against your scalp. you melt into her affection, your body laying limply across her lap.

“let’s see how much more sticky sweetness is between these legs now, hmm?” she readjusts her hold on you, her leg propping you upright so your back is nice and arched again. her finger returns to your panties, finding them completely soaked through and ruined. you hear her chuckle amusedly before she presses the soiled material up against your opening, her fingertip just barely pushing into your hole. you let out shrill whine, your hips backing up into her touch. she shushes you, sliding your panties to the side and you all but jump as her finger grazes up against your unclothed pussy. she gathers the wetness there, drawing a line up and down your slit, taunting you. you bite down hard on your bottom lip, your hips wriggling under her touch.

“hush now… let me see.. ohhh, my listen to that.” you moan, her index finger sliding tantalizingly slow inside of you. you can hear your pussy squelching as she does so, your walls desperately clamping down around her digit. she wiggles it as far as it’ll go, her knuckles brushing against your clit. she does an experimental bend of her finger, your body jerking in response as she stimulates your g-spot.

just when you start to finally feel some relief, she slowly withdraws her finger. as she pulls it away, a string of arousal clings to her finger, connecting your went cunt to her before she pulls it far enough away that it disappears. she was going to have you clean it off, but the sight was too delicious to resist. she sucks her own finger into her mouth, cleaning off the evidence of your wetness. you swear you hear a small purr of pleasure coming from her, but you couldn’t be sure with your heart pounding in your ears.

she smooths your dress back over your ass, grabbing onto your waist and twisting you so you were now sitting facing her upright on her lap. she reaches up and holds the side of your face, a twinge of a smile on her lips as she notices your dismayed expression. she pouts sympathetically, stroking your cheek with her thumb.

“what did we learn today, (y/n)?” you don’t stop pouting as you answer. “to not be mean and to communicate my feelings..” you mumble, your expression solemn and wounded as if you had just been told the saddest thing. it turned out one of the most tragic things was having wanda tease you and then leave you high and dry.

“that’s right, sweetness. good job.” she smiles warmly, kissing your nose affectionately.

“you did so good for me, sugar. mommy’s very proud of you.” she smiles encouragingly, and despite how mopey you felt about being denied an orgasm, you glow under her praise and affection. you purse your lips together as you try to smother a smile threatening to cross your lips. wanda chuckles at this, playfully tapping her finger against your nose.

“i see that smile, little girl. you can’t fool me.” she attacks the side of your face with kisses, a wide smile now erupting across your face as you giggle gleefully.

“you’re gonna make my face all soggy—quit it!” you protest lightly, half heartedly pushing against her chest to put some space between your faces. wanda makes a mock gasp.

“i beg your pardon, missy? i can give you all the kisses i want!” she growls playfully through gritted teeth before she plants more sloppy kisses all over your face. you squeal and giggle, finding that moving your face around did nothing but give her new places to kiss.

you were so happy and content in your little wanda bubble. you never wanted it to pop.

[wifetomegatron]

Imagine a liaison aboard the lost light who calls people 'love' and 'dear' in a very soft, delicate tone.

based on this post because this is just too tempting to not write about, we must sound like debutants making their first appearance in fashionable society speaking in skittish whispers and sighs all the time when in reality organics speak in different octaves and wavelengths. definitely self indulgent cause me and my friends do this.

Imagine a liaison aboard the lost light who calls people 'love' and 'dear' in a very soft, delicate tone. In a ship full of battle-weary, pessimistic, cybertronians desensitized to almost everything, that single drop of warmth coming from a human whose touches feel like silk — feather light and alien, would be enough to make them putty in your presence.

The last time Brainstorm received a — " How clever, Brainstorm, thank you for your help." He had nearly popped a circuit trying to come up with a reply, stunned silent for what Perceptor claimed was the first time he was without one of his usual snarky remarks. Then it was Swerve, who wouldn't shut up about how you had called him 'darling' — Skids was adamant to prove to him that it was just how you spoke to people, even if the theoretician himself had his chest puffed out from being called 'dear'.

Then there was the time that you had scolded Whirl for nearly stepping on you, voice still painfully tender in comparison to the mechanical lilt of metal vocalizers —" Ooop! Careful there, handsome!" You had jumped, swerving just in time before his pedes crushed you. And the watchmaker froze, with a single optic pinning you in place. Then Drift had to chase him down several hallways, yelling that he wasn't allowed to just pick you up and run off.

An intervention was needed when a group of mechs were sent down a Decepticon outpost and returned with injuries. Apparently, everyone wanted to be pat on the arm and have you crooned — " Oh, you poor, brave thing" to them. With your brows knitted in worry, lips pout and slightly parted as they tell you all the heroic things they did. ( Ultra Magnus wasn't too impressed when said intervention from Rodimus was just a plot for him to cut the line and show you his battle scars. Someone in the back of the line had yelled that he wasn't even scratched. Judging from the infighting brewing, it was most likely Whirl.)

[hongcherry]

how svt would react if their introvert s/o is socially exhausted

pairing/genres: svt x reader (gn); fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: none? (plz lmk if i overlooked something)

author's note: for this anon! coming up with 13 different scenarios is not as easy as it may seem LOL, but it was fun doing something i haven't done before, so thank you for the request! i hope you got some rest, anon 💗

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

Seungcheol

After you climb into Seungcheol’s car after one of your many social events this week, you fail to control your overwhelming emotions.

Seungcheol instantly panics at your sudden crying. It started with quiet sniffles, but now you’re borderline sobbing in your hands.

He wants to pull you into his arms, but it’s not as easy to do so since you’re in his car. Instead, he rubs your thigh with one hand and your back with the other.

“Did something happen tonight?” he asks. There’s a mix of worry and anger laced in his tone. He can’t help but picture someone doing something to upset you.

You shake your head and try to calm your cries.

Truthfully, you’re just overwhelmed with responsibility. You’re exhausted with the need to put on a comradely and upstanding appearance. You’re tired of having the same mindless small talks and being over-aware of your surroundings. You just want to stay at home rather than be in public.

Once Seungcheol knows the reason behind your tears, which he had a feeling about these past few days, he drives you both home. He rubs loving circles on your thigh throughout the trip, sending you words of encouragement every now and then. He doesn’t want to attribute to your overbearing emotions, but he wants you to know he’s here for you.

The night is spent cuddling in bed and eating takeout food. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s exactly what you need. He had offered to give you alone time, but you kept him close. You may not want to be around people, but Seungcheol is an exception. He’s your comfort person, someone you don’t have to put on an appearance for. Someone who understands you and knows how to lift your mood.

When you’re on the brink of sleep, you feel Seungcheol’s lips press against the back of your head. He whispers words of encouragement and tells you he’ll always be here for you. You smile, turn in his arms so you’re facing him, and hold him tightly. He chuckles softly at your reaction and holds you as tightly as you’re holding him.

Jeonghan

Jeonghan claims to want to be an island.

He wants to be a place where people can come and go, leaving their worries behind. Except you ended up shipwrecked on the island and made a home.

Jeonghan leans against the headboard of your shared bed. Your back is pressed against his chest, legs tangled under the covers. You want to spill all your troubles to him, but after constant social interactions, you find it difficult to even express your fatigue. Instead, you both cuddle in silence. Heavy rain falls outside; the pit-pat of the droplets luring you into calmness.

Jeonghan knows something’s wrong, but he’s not quite sure what. He whispers that he’s here for you when you’re ready. You nod, pressing yourself against his warm chest more as you peer at him. He grins and captures your lips in his. The kiss is slow, lazy movements that drag for a little too long, but you don’t care. You feel like life’s been too hectic; you need it all to slow down.

Jeonghan gives your body a gentle squeeze as he pulls away. Your gaze stays on his for a few seconds before you pull him down again.

While you adore Jeonghan’s playful attitude, it’s times like these when you feel extra special. You know he’ll always be there when you need him. Whether you need to rant to him for thirty minutes, cry for fifteen, or simply be near him.

Jeonghan’s your constant.

Joshua

“Babe, are you ready to g—”

Joshua stops mid-sentence upon seeing your dejected form on the couch, shoulders slouched, and a guilty look on your face.

Today was your and Joshua’s two-year anniversary, and he had planned a night out. Normally, you would be over the moon. However, with your constant attendance at social events the past week, you’re dreading going out.

This was meant to be a special night, but you feel like you’ve ruined it. You want to power through, but your body has had enough.

When you finally disclose your troubles with Joshua, he instantly sits next to you and gives you comforting back rubs. He tells you that there’s nothing to feel guilty about. That going out isn’t needed to celebrate your anniversary. He only needs to spend time with you; he doesn’t care the how or where.

So, after a few more reassuring words, you find yourself spending the night indoors with your handsome boyfriend doing mundane activities like cooking and watching shows with little talking. However, you and Joshua are past the awkward silences. You’re able to find comfort in the quietness with him.

And when he gives you random kisses and reassuring smiles throughout the night, you know the night wasn’t ruined by staying in. You just needed him.

Jun

Jun has always been attentive to your needs. After knowing you for years, he can tell when you’re feeling off. You’ve been less talkative, less energetic, and less focused. It’s almost like you’re just a shell of yourself—not really living but just going through the motions.

While you’re away at the nth social gathering, he leaves for the grocery store to gather all the ingredients he needs for your favorite dish. It may not be much, but he just wants you to feel better even if it’s for an hour.

Your routine for coming home nowadays includes taking off your shoes, changing into something more comfortable, and then lying in bed for a few hours until you get up for food.

Jun greets you from the kitchen sweetly and you answer as nicely as you can. It’s nothing against him, but you feel too drained to do or say much. You smell something familiar that makes your stomach rumble. Though before you can question it, Jun gently informs you to get dressed and then come to the dining room.

You mumble an “okay,” then do as you’re told.

Jun’s got the table set and a small, beautiful flower arrangement in the center.

“What’s this?” you wonder.

Jun comes carrying food that makes your mouth water. You recognize it instantly.

“Just thought you deserved a nice meal,” he replies and helps you sit down, placing a kiss on your cheek before he leaves again.

You eye him as he brings in more small dishes. Everything looks incredible, and you can’t wait to indulge in his delicious cooking.

Jun gives you a smile as he sits and nods toward the food, inviting you to go first. The first bite gives you a burst of happiness; there’s something about great food that makes you feel good. Once you get some food in your stomach, Jun begins eating as well.

It’s a nice night after a tiring day. Jun talks a little, but it’s mainly filled with comfortable silence that you welcome. It’s actions like these that make you fall for him more.

Soonyoung

When Soonyoung finds out about your social exhaustion, he fears you won’t want to be around him. Is he making you feel worse? Should he give you some space?

You’re quick to deny his worries. You love his presence, but you warn you may not be as talkative as normal. Soonyoung nods in understanding—tells you he’s perfectly fine with that. He just loves being around you. Sure, he loves your voice too, but he understands needing to recharge after back-to-back social events.

When it’s time for dinner, Soonyoung hesitates to ask if you want to help. He’s not sure if that’s asking for too much, but you smile and follow him to the kitchen.

It’s not unusual to cook dinner together but the time is typically filled with chatting and instructions given by you. This time, it’s Soonyoung leading the dinner preparation. Lately, he’s been more into cooking. Granted, not all his dishes turn out that great, but every chef has to start somewhere. It’s rather nice seeing how excited he gets when executing a dish idea.

You follow his instructions well—chopping this, stirring that. Even though you’re not alone and are on your feet, your mind feels at ease. You don’t have to think about what to say next or how to respond to someone’s actions. You just need to let Soonyoung guide you.

He does so with care. Sometimes he’ll crack a few light jokes just to see the faint smile on your face.

When dinner is done and bellies are full, Soonyoung sends you off to rest while he cleans up. You feel guilty he’s done so much work tonight, but you’re grateful he’s putting in so much effort to make you happy. Next time he’s feeling down like you, you’ll make sure you put in the same effort to see him smile.

Wonwoo

Wonwoo knows the need for alone time. While he doesn’t mind being around his friends for hours, attending social events is a different story. Even if he’s with friends, there are still numerous eyes watching him and other worries he has to consider. It’s draining to constantly uphold an image.

So, when you come home from your final event, he takes no offense when you tell him you want to be alone for a while. Although he’s not sure how long “a while” is, he supports your need to recharge. He tells you that he’s here and to not be afraid to ask for anything as he’ll be there in an instant.

After thanking him and giving him a sweet kiss, you retreat to the bedroom.

Wonwoo sits at his gaming desk in the other room. His headset is on, and his fingers tap rapidly on the keyboard. He’s been playing for a little over an hour when you shuffle inside.

He pauses his game and pushes off his headset.

You’re silent as you push his chair back a bit and settle in his lap.

Wonwoo smiles and helps you get comfortable. You lean against his chest, arms wrapped around his neck tightly with your head nestled in his shoulder.

“You can play,” you mumble.

Wonwoo doesn’t reply verbally. He simply kisses the side of your head before he slips on the headset again and rolls his chair as close as he can get without squishing you.

Your eyes are closed as you lax in his arms. The sound of his keys clacking brings an odd sense of comfort to you. Although you still feel socially drained, you want to be around Wonwoo because if anyone can make you feel better, it’s him. You don’t need his words of encouragement, though you know he’d give them. You just need to know he’s here for you.

And he is.

Always.

Jihoon

There’s something so mesmerizing about the way Jihoon works. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed, indicating how much he’s focusing.

“Whatcha’ looking at, babe?” he chuckles when he catches you staring.

You peer at his eyes and smile, shaking your head. “Nothing. I just like watching you work.”

He hums and sets down his phone that he’s writing lyrics on. He pulls you closer, squeezing you and kissing your forehead.

“You doing okay?” he asks.

It’s been a few days since you confided in him about your social exhaustion. One too many social gatherings have left you with low energy. You haven’t felt like doing much, but Jihoon doesn’t seem to mind. He’s content doing different activities while in the same room.

You shrug in response, and Jihoon gives you a sad yet encouraging smile that tells you to keep going and hang in there. He understands having to do things because you have a responsibility. It’s not always easy, but you have to persevere. And some days it’s easier to; some days it’s not. However, with Jihoon, those easier days happen a lot more often.

You rest your head on Jihoon’s chest while he picks up his phone again. It’s silent except for the sounds of him pressing the keyboard. You wonder what he’s writing about, but Jihoon has never been one to lend you a sneak peek. At least, not while he’s in the process. Maybe he’ll let you review a draft, but that’s the earliest stage you get to see. Regardless, you always end up liking his results.

You don’t realize you’ve fallen asleep until Jihoon gently shakes you. He tells you he needs to use the restroom and that he’ll be right back.

Jihoon holds you closely once he gets back. He whispers a goodnight before falling into slumber as well.

Seokmin

After attending more social gatherings than you can count on your fingers, you’ve become drained. You could go without being around a single human being for a good month.

Except for one.

He lays next to you in bed, eyes darting across your features with worry.

When you ponder what’s wrong, he asks if he’s done something to upset you. You’re confused at first, but then it hits you. You’ve always inquired about his days; however, you’ve been lacking in keeping up to date with his life. You find yourself coming home, then eating and sleeping your day away. Even when you’re up, you’ve stayed to yourself.

You finally tell Seokmin that you’re socially exhausted. Just the mere thought of opening your mouth or being engaged in a conversation has you running for the hills.

Seokmin pushes aside his silent worries and tries not to put anything you’ve said to heart. You’re not upset with him—hell, you’re probably not upset with anyone but just need some quiet time. He’s felt this way before, so he understands you.

Seokmin slides off the bed and leaves the room. You watch in confusion, but he just grins and tells you not to worry.

After fifteen minutes, he comes back and leads you to the living room where he’s set up a mini spa. There’s a bubbling foot bath, a back massage cushion, and calming music playing. You can smell lavender and something else that you’re not sure of, but it makes you feel relaxed.

Seokmin spends hours tending to your body. From foot rubs to forearm massages, he takes care of your body in a way that makes you feel worshipped and loved.

You feel guilty that he’s pampering you so much, but he reassures you multiple times that all you need to do is close your eyes and relax. He has no issue doing this if it means you feel better.

Mingyu

You didn’t mean to snap at Mingyu when he asked if you knew where his wallet was. It was a simple question that had a simple answer. Yet, you replied rudely.

Mingyu had stared at you, not overly offended by your outburst since it was out of character. Rather, he grew concerned. Over the past few days, he’s noticed a decline in your attitude. He could almost see your patience decrease with each passing day. He’s aware of the social events you’ve been going to and figures you’re exhausted from those.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—” you try to apologize a few minutes later. You’ve calmed down and have reflected on your actions.

“I’m not upset with you, but if it makes you feel better, I accept your apology,” he says and pulls you in for a hug. A hug that engulfs you with comfort from his strong and loving embrace.

You end up telling him how you’re feeling, confirming his suspicion behind your outburst.

He gives your head a gentle kiss. You know he’s not mad at you, but you’re still disappointed with yourself for how you treated him.

When it’s time for bed, Mingyu’s by your side. He offers to wash your face for you so all you have to do is relax. With a nod, he washes his hands, then begins your face routine. Although it’s a thoughtful gesture, he tries to help rinse your face as well. However, it just results in wet floors and laughter. He apologizes but you wave a hand as you smile at him. He gives you a sheepish grin as he pats your face dry.

Perhaps that didn’t go as he planned, but at least you brightened up—even if it were just a few minutes.

Minghao

Minghao sits across from you, an encouraging smile on his lips. You follow suit and copy his sitting position.

He nods once you’ve settled and takes your hands.

“Close your eyes and copy my breathing,” he instructs softly.

Your eyes flutter close, zeroing your focus on the man before you. It’s quiet at first, but then Minghao inhales loud enough for you to hear.

You breathe in.

One.

Two.

Three.

Minghao exhales slowly.

You repeat Minghao’s patterns for an unknown amount of time. You simply let him guide you through whatever meditation practices he often does, which he offered once you told him about your social fatigue.

At first, your mind is still crowded with stress and exhaustion. It’s hard to try to relax when you know you still have more events to come. Though you continue for the sake of pleasing Minghao. You appreciate his time, even if it’s not helping as much.

Minutes pass as you still follow Minghao. Gradually your mind becomes empty—only focusing on the man before you, hands still in his. You don’t even realize how light you feel until Minghao starts pulling away.

Your eyes flutter open and see his gentle smile. You don’t even need to tell him it worked since the look on your face explains it all.

Perhaps you’ll be joining in on his meditation every night from now on.

Seungkwan

Seungkwan’s normally okay with touch. He doesn’t mind the lingering hugs or handholding in public. However, you, on the other hand, have never been as open as him. It’s unusual for you to be openly affectionate. Or at least not for a long time.

Though while visiting a farmers’ market, you cling to him more the entire time. When you encounter another person and have to converse, no matter how short the interaction is, you let Seungkwan do all the talking.

Seungkwan is naturally a talker, so he doesn’t mind taking the lead; however, you don’t even make a peep. Often, you’d at least chime in your two cents, but you don’t do that. No, you stay silent by his side and simply listen.

Seungkwan pulls you aside after a while and asks if you’re okay. When you give him a sad smile and explain you’re just socially exhausted from all your events, he instantly becomes serious. He apologizes for taking you out and not catching on sooner, but you’re not offended at all. You give him a reassuring peck on the cheek and tell him you’re fine, just not up for being around crowds too long.

Seungkwan nods in understanding, then starts leading you back to the parking lot. You tell him you can stay longer, but he refuses. He wants you to be comfortable and happy. He’s seen what he wanted and is perfectly fine heading back.

Halfway home, Seungkwan glances at you in the passenger seat.

“You want some ice cream?”

He smiles knowingly. Ice cream has always been your coping food.

You grin and nod, heart warm at his sweet gesture. Ice cream may be your comfort food, but Seungkwan is your comfort person.

Vernon

Vernon loves to watch movies. So much so that he’s dedicated Friday nights to movie nights. Each night you get to experience a new film with him. Sometimes you both love it, other times you both hate it. And of course, there are times when one loves it more than the other.

After the movies, you end up dissecting it. Some people may find that boring, but you and Vernon share similar hobbies—analyzing movies being one of them.

However, with your frequent social events, you find it difficult to be excited about tonight’s movie.

The movie summary seemed interesting, but your brain feels so drained that you doubt you’ll be paying much attention. Let alone be prepared to engage in a conversation afterward.

When Vernon sits down next to you on the couch, you turn to him reluctantly.

“Do you mind if we rewatch something instead tonight?”

Vernon gives you a confused look. You normally watch new movies, not old ones. When he asks about the reason, you give a summarized answer.

Vernon’s understanding and asks what you’d like to watch. Too fatigued to even think about it, you let him decide. He ends up putting on a movie that you both really enjoyed a few weeks ago. It’s light and easy to follow, yet it had spurred you both to talk about it for hours—somehow getting into a deep conversation.

You snuggle into his side while the opening credits play. He moves one of his arms around your shoulders, rubbing it tenderly. Although it’s not a traditional movie night, you’re glad you still get to participate in it regardless.

Chan

Chan would like to seem more observant than he really is. He would like to say he knew why you were so distant or why you seemed temperamental. However, he can’t. What he does know is that you’re not as bright as you are normally. He knows everyone has their ups and downs, but your down has been occurring long enough to worry him.

He’s standing in line at the grocery store ready to check out when his phone rings. He smiles when he sees your ID; however, your response is not what he expected.

You’re crying.

You’re sniffling and hiccupping so much that it’s hard for Chan to understand what you’re saying. He coos at you, trying to calm you down so he can grasp what’s going on.

After a minute, you’re finally able to tell him you’re overwhelmed coherently. Your social battery has run out of juice and all you want to do is come home.

“I’ll be right there, baby,” he says instantly.

He leaves his cart, apologizing profusely to the worker who eyes him at the act, then beelines it to his car.

It doesn’t matter that he spent an hour picking out food. It doesn’t matter that he was waiting in line for fifteen minutes. He just needs to be there for you.

Chan stays on the line throughout the drive. He keeps you up to date on how far he is and continues to reassure you that it’ll be okay.

He meets you outside the building and engulfs you in the most secure and loving hug. He holds you against his chest, letting you wet his shirt with your tears while he rubs your back soothingly.

“How does leaving a little early sound?” he suggests.

Normally, you try to stick it out. You have a responsibility and want to fulfill your duty. However, all these non-stop events have drained you beyond recognition.

You nod and quickly text a friend at the event that you’ve started to feel sick and need to leave.

You let Chan take care of you the rest of the day. He brings you food in bed, takes care of some house chores that you planned to do, and gives you plenty of cuddles and kisses.

a/n: i feel like i've entered a whole new world by writing a reaction/imagine 🤣 (i haven't, but im just dramatic)

divider credit

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

[rainybyday]

This is mostly based on these three ideas I had circling in my little head please send help. 

Warring States Period - First Idea

Kaguya won in this timeline and only Team Seven survived, both past and present (Sakura, Naruto, Sai, Sasuke, Tenzo, Kakashi, and Obito (all in a total of seven :D)), and so they went into a new timeline as they used their last bit of Chakra to destroy their timeline so Kaguya will never escape and take over other dimensions 

Relationships 

ObKk because I somehow am in a toxic yaoi shipper cycle, god help

Sasuke and Sakura will stay together because I have a massive pin collection with amazing pins of these two so it made me biased

Naruto and Sai are without any partners since their timeline got fucked

Pray

Ok so let me go over some little details I like to have

Uchihas love so fucken deeply its not even funny so when their loved ones are threatened, all hell breaks loose,

Hatakes are a feral clan and while they are seen as “domestic” in modern times not so much in the Warring States, there are two reactions. One (stupid) people will try to fight them to scare them off (ha) or are scared to high heaven and back away from them

Hatakes have fangs and have habits like touching and calling their close ones pack and mate and pup if considered pack 

Yes all of his students are his pups and Tenzo is affectionately called a sapling once he realizes that is a THING for Senju’s to say to their young

Tenzo secretly loves it

But before he never said it out loud since, you know, trauma

Hatakes are territorial of their pack so if anyone messes with their pack when they can’t handle it you are going to wake up with your throat being ripped apart from Hatake teeth

Having a Hatake and Uchiha couple might be a pair made in shinobi heaven if I think in that sense

Fear them

Kakashi gives head pats like it is free candy

Everyone decided to have the Hatake clan symbol on them to place a barrier between them and other warring clans because no one likes to mess with Hatakes (only dumb people do, aka, the political greedy people)

Oh wait I found my plot!

Sakura is still considered a civilian during this time, with no family name or any of that sort since, back then, a civilian was too poor to have a last name, so she, alongside Sai, are now Hatake. 

Since Hatake’s have a pack mentality they do have the occasion of adopting outside their clan and giving their last name, however, there have been very few cases in which a clan outsider is adopted into the Hatake. Usually, this is issued to the clan head of that clan and things will get sorted out. But, because Sasuke, Naruto, and Tenzo are time travelers, no one knows of them nor are they official in the clan registry they don’t do that. 

 Bastard children if you will, and while it's possible for both Naruto and Tenzo that is going to be difficult to tell with Sasuke and Obito

So they decided not to use their last names in such situations unless officially asked if they were of [instert clan here] and just said they are by blood

After all, last names are a claim so they are careful to say they are a Uchiha, Uzumaki, or Senju

Do they claim them?

I mean no?????

Let's say no

They are blood-related but do not claim name, claim blood, not name. If named they are shipped to the clan’s compound and goodbye pack member. 

NOT ON KAKASHI’S WATCH

Ok so, timeline!

I’m gonna make it about maybe a year or more before the death of Inzuma

Just because I can and because tension is still there

But not THE tension if you know what I mean

I want Tobirama to feel like something is wrong with the Chakra signatures floating around but I want Hashirama to know first what the actual problem is with the forest warning him about a pack he should not cross

Why the forest?

Because they feel another person with the forest within them

Aka Tenzo

Case and point

They find Sasuke first by accident

It was a patrol of Senju who found him and immediately didn’t know what to do but they had to capture the thing because obviously it was a Uchiha

They corner him and they are about to catch him when the trees start to move

At first, they think it's their clan head who came to trap him 

But no

The branches are capturing THEM and leaving the Uchiha alone

So now they are confused

Confused they see a man with short chestnut hair come out from nowhere, take the Uchiha into his arms, and warns them that they shouldn't mess with a Hatake cub

And

Disappears

They promptly freak the fuck out

I'll add more later and edit more of my other two ideas cus I can. Nice to do a break on the dcxdp fandom not gonna lie.

Part 2 | Part 3

[imbored1201]

Happy new year!

Would you do a barca x teen!reader?

Like they're feeling down/depressed and clingy for a few days because it's someone they cared about death anniversary? (maybe they end up one day just crying and clinging to someone - like alexia or lucy, instead of training?)

That Time Of The Year

A/N: speaking of New Years, hope the New Year started off well for everyone❤️

Barcelona Femeni x Teen Reader

Mostly a Lucy Bronze x Teen Reader

Words: 1,777

Warnings: Talks of drunk driver, talks of dead best friend

You hated January; it was supposed to be a month of excitement for a new year. You couldn't see it that way, though. It was the same month your childhood best friend died.

She was the only one who actually supported you and believed you would make it to your dream team, Barcelona. Now you were, but she didn't get to watch. She went to every game when you played with Man City.

As the new year hit, Alexia noticed how you got clingier. It started with the little things, like you wanting to eat lunch with her or go out to a restaurant together. It was odd since she was the one who always had to drag you to do that with her.

Then you would sneak into her bed to cuddle at night. Sometimes she would wake up to you doing it, and she would just open her arms for you to hold you, or sometimes she would wake up to pressure on her chest, and it was always you.

————

She had questioned you about it, but you just told her nothing was wrong. Which was a lie, and Alexia hated when you lied to her.

"You ready?" She asked after having to force you to get up after you once again snuck into her bed. You always claimed it was harder to get out of her bed since it was way comfier. You nodded, grabbing a banana and walking out the door.

Alexia was able to see that you were about to break; she even texted a lot of the older girls to keep an eye on you before she dropped you off for training.

She's tried to help you, even being straight up with you and telling you she knew you weren't okay. She even made her mom talk to you; you, being stubborn, refused to speak of the situation and even stayed at Lucy's house for a day to get away from Alexia's hassling.

————

She was glad to see Lucy waiting for you as she pulled up, giving you a kiss on the forehead and telling you to be careful, as she always did.

"Let's get to work, kid." Lucy was worried when she got that text from Alexia. She understood why now. You were always energetic during training; now you seem to have no energy at all. Something was wrong.

You made no effort to greet the girls, heading straight to your locker and changing. The girls patted your back as they went out to the field as a sign that they were there for you.

————

Aitana kept sending you perfect through balls during a drill, and you couldn't seem to finish them. It was making you frustrated, as you apologized to her every time.

She waved it off, realizing whatever was happening to you was starting to affect how you played now.

"Y/N, come here." Jonatan called for you, and you sighed in annoyance. You knew he was probably going to tell you off for how bad you were training and probably even bench you. That's what your mind was saying. It was true what they said, your mind was your biggest enemy.

————

He led you to his office. "Look, I know I'm doing horrible, so please don't-" "Y/N, this isn't about training," he said softly. You looked at him, confused.

"This is about your mood recently; there's been a lot of concern about you. Everyone can see something is bothering you, and we just want to help." Now you were extra annoyed.

You didn't need more people meddling in your business. First Alexia, then the feeling of the team walking on eggshells around you. Now even your coach was getting involved.

"Nothing is wrong," you said harshly, immediately regretting that. You cursed yourself for talking to your coach like that. He didn't seem mad, though; in fact, he seemed more worried.

"I can't do this," you told him, rushing out of his office. You were going full speed back to the locker room when you ran straight into Lucy.

"There you are; I was looking for you," she said, holding you by your shoulders to steady you. She frowned seeing your tears. "What happened?"

You tackled her into a hug; you couldn't hold it in anymore. You clinged tightly to her as you sobbed; everything you had been holding in for a week was finally coming out.

"Love, you'll make yourself sick; take deep breaths," you listened to her, trying your best to calm yourself down. Lucy continued to rub your back and whisper soothing words. Even trying to make dad jokes to cheer you up.

————

That's how Jonatan found the two of you. You were in Lucy's lap, sitting and leaning against the wall as she stroked your hair and wiped your tears.

Jonaton's eyes softened as he looked down at you and Lucy. You looked up at him, scared that he was going to tell you off for storming off.

"Take her home; she needs to rest." Lucy nodded and coaxed you to get up. You held onto her tightly as she led you back into the locker room.

"But training," you rubbed your eyes. "Training doesn't matter right now; come on, we'll get ice cream." You smiled a bit at that. Lucy always joked that you would trade her for a scoop of ice cream because of how much you loved it.

————

After getting your ice cream, the both of you sat in Lucy's car in silence. "Want me to take you back home?" She asked, "Can we just sit here for a little more?" She quickly nodded and continued to eat.

After another minute of silence, she spoke up again. "Do you want to talk about it?" You let out a sad sigh. You knew you would have to tell someone eventually. Lucy was the best person to tell because she's known you longer than anyone else. She trained you while you two played in City together that year. Then you moved to Barcelona with her, and Alexia took over the parenting.

"Remember that girl that I would always be walking with after training?" She nodded. "Tiny Blondy." You rolled your eyes at the nickname the team had given her.

"Yes, tiny blondy, we used to watch all the Barcelona games together since we were 7. It was always my dream to play here; you already knew that part, though." She nodded and listened, giving you a supportive smile.

"She was really the only one that supported it; even mom and dad didn't think I'd be able to. Towards the end of the season before I came here, I got the offer, but mom and dad didn't want me to go to Spain by myself. I called her crying, but she was eating dinner with her family, and her mom was very strict on family time, so she was never able to get out of it, but I heard her start an argument over the fact that I really needed her and she had to leave."

"Wait, your parents weren't going to let you come here?" She immediately shut up when she saw the look on your face. "Sorry"

"She didn't listen to her mom's words and came to my house. We talked all night, and we were even going to have a sleepover, but her mom came to our house angry and demanded she go back. My friend listened, and her last words to me were, 'You better go to Barcelona', a drunk driver hit them on their way back home, my friend died, and her mom was in a coma."

"Y/N," Lucy said, leaning over to wipe the tears that were starting to fall out again. "It was my fault, Lucy; if I hadn't overreacted to my parents telling me no to my dream team, I would have probably been able to sign for it when I was actually an adult," you sniffled, hiding your face in your hands.

"It's the main reason my parents even signed those papers for me to play here; they wanted me to get away from everything. Her dad was going crazy, blaming me for everything. He came to my house four times. My dad even fought him once because he had followed me all the way home from practice, saying nasty things to me."

Lucy couldn't hold back anymore either; tears started to fall down her face now. She leaned over and pulled you into a tight hug.

"I got you," she whispered, wiping her own tears. She needed to stay strong for you.

"She didn't get to watch me, Luce; she said she wanted to be the first person to buy my Barcelona jersey; she wasn't able to do that." You cried harder; all Lucy could do was hold you.

"Look at me, kid," she gently grabbed your cheeks. "Nothing is your fault. That man took his grieving out on you, and he shouldn't have. You're a kid; you're allowed to feel disappointed over not being able to play for your dream team; you're allowed to call someone for advice and comfort.

You nodded at her words. "Everything will be okay; nothing was your fault." You wanted to cry more at her words; those words were all you wanted to hear someone say to you.

And the fact that Lucy was saying them made it extra special. You knew Lucy would never lie to you, so if everything was going to be okay, you believed her.

————

Over the next couple of weeks, Alexia got you help. You were seeing someone at least once a week, or if you really needed them. You were also able to go back home for the first time and finally get some alone time at your friend's grave to say your final words.

Her mom was fine, but her parents ended up moving away. There was some relief, but also a guilty feeling in your mind. Relieved that you wouldn't have to be scared about encountering the dad every time you came back home. You felt guilty for feeling that way though. You understood why he blamed you, and you wish you could take it all back. Sometimes you even think about what life would have been like if you had turned down Barcelona's contract and stayed with City without throwing a tantrum.

Maybe in another universe, she would have still been in your City jersey, being the loudest there, and maybe you both could have moved to Barcelona at 18. She wanted to get into sports journalism to follow you, but once again.

Maybe in another universe.

[munariplans]

a second chance | natasha r.

synopsis: in which natasha is given a second chance; a chance encounter with clint's children that sparks her wish to start a family with you.

natasha romanoff x spidey! reader

word count: 4k words

a/n: welcome to my last fic of 2023! thank you all for spending this wonderful year with me, and i wish for a happy, safe year for all of you in 2024. of course, to end off the year, we go back to our favourite spidey!reader and natasha duo. in other words, this fic was the conversation and experience that led up to is there someone else? enjoy x

masterlist

natasha romanoff liked to claim that she wasn’t good with children; she didn’t like them, they didn’t like her, and she did not have the faintest idea of how to take care of one, not to even mention having them in her life. once, the team had rescued a stranded child from the rubble of an explosion, and when steve asked if anyone was willing to look after her until emergency services arrived, natasha ducked to your side when his eyes landed on her, reluctantly shaking her head as the child looked to her curiously. 

but as her wife, you were amazing with children. and in that instance, seeing the exasperated looks on the others’ faces, and the frantic one on natasha’s, you had bravely stepped up to take the child from steve, being careful not to stand too close to natasha in case she freaked out. 

she watched as you sat the child on your lap, taking off your mask and letting her see your face. she smiled when you did, wiping off the blood and soot from her face as comfortingly as you could. you held her hand as you rocked her gently, trying to help her forget about the broken arm you were supporting with your other hand. there were no words exchanged between you and the child, she hadn’t cried at all, and for some reason, she looked almost calmer with you. but natasha knew you were a comforting presence in anyone’s life, not just hers, so it was only natural that the child wasn’t freaking out from her injuries in front of you. it also helped that you had let her put on your mask then, you cooing as you reminded her just how brave she was. 

natasha didn’t have good memories of children from the red room; she had spent far too many years suppressing the harrowing scenes of girls younger than her getting tortured and trained to be widows. she never knew children who were happy, or had good childhoods that allowed them to be free – hell, even she didn’t have that when she was a child. 

but seeing you so relaxed, and natural, with the child, tugged at her heartstrings more than it should. you were everything she never was, and each time natasha thought there were reasons that you were too good for her, you somehow manage to convince her there were a million more of why she wasn’t worthy of being married to someone so wonderful. 

she allowed herself to slowly approach you. and while you picked up that she was hesitant, you let her gather her own courage, and as she stood in front of you and the child, you leaned in and whispered, “that’s aunty natasha. she was the one who found you, you know? alerted me and uncle bruce over there, to help pull you out. she’s so pretty, and incredible, isn’t she?”

natasha wasn’t sure the girl even understood what you were saying, but the small smile that the child offered, and her eyes looking up at natasha’s own, had the woman transfixed. she didn’t know what to do, but you patted the spot beside you, and gestured for her to sit.

“do you want to say hi?” you asked natasha, to which she nodded. 

“hi, i’m…natasha,” she said to the child, but she had returned to playing with your mask. it was almost as if the child hadn’t noticed her at all; not the people she had murdered in this mission to save her, not the souls she tortured to get information out of, not even all that she had done in the red room to get to where she was today. she had seen natasha as she was; a woman who had saved her from the rubble, and returned to her newfound obsession over the piece of cloth. she was a child, seeing natasha as a person, which somehow was hard for her to digest. 

you let the girl keep your mask as emergency services arrived a few minutes later, holding natasha by your side as they shut the doors to the ambulance, mouthing you’re so brave even as the paramedics began assessing her. natasha was transfixed at the child grinning back at not just you, but her too. her grin had been toothy, and real. 

“you’re incredible,” your wife would comment later on, to which you shrugged.

“the little girl was an angel,” you said, then, noticing her hesitation, you leaned in to kiss her forehead, “and you were amazing. she liked you, i just knew it.”

“you really think so?” natasha’s voice suddenly turned insecure, but hopeful.

you nodded against her skin. “i know so.”

– 

the next time natasha had an encounter with a child, it was on a whole other level that she was unprepared for, and hesitant of. but she didn’t really have a choice this time. 

laura had run into some complications with her pregnancy with nathaniel, and clint was lost, and exasperated, of what to do. he needed to be by his wife’s side, but his two young children needed him too. and because of the urgency of the situation, he didn’t have enough time to hire a babysitter on such short notice. 

you caught him mid-meltdown in the common room, but the rest of the team were preparing to go on missions and didn’t have proper spaces to care for the kids for a few days. natasha was beside you then; the both of you had returned from a date in the park, and you knew she was as concerned for him just as you were. 

but you weren’t about to suggest taking the kids in just right there; natasha lived with you too, and if she wasn’t comfortable with suddenly having cooper and lila intrude into her living space, especially with her reservations about children, you knew it wasn’t something you could do without running by her.

you fished out your phone, remarking to natasha, “i should call a few of my friends, see if they can take the two in for a few nights.”

but natasha hadn’t let go of your hand. she was still frowning at clint’s state, trying desperately to beg his wife that he would be there in a few hours, and struggling to think about how he was going to juggle the kids and her. he was at his wits’ end, and natasha hated seeing her friend like this. 

suddenly, you felt her grip onto your coat, whispering lowly, “...why don’t we take them in?”

you looked away from your phone for a minute, still reeling in what your wife just said. natasha had told you, when you were still friends even, of just her reservations around children, and how much she didn’t want them even if she had the chance, so you understood. you understood, and respected her wishes, and although she knew you loved kids, you never pushed her on the subject further. you were always supportive and respectful of why she didn’t want them and couldn’t be with them. 

you almost couldn’t believe your ears. “what?”

“we take them in, just for a few nights. cooper and lila.” she tried to say nonchalantly, but you knew it was taking all of her willpower to even utter it to you. 

“are you sure?”

“clint’s in so much distress. our next mission hasn’t been assigned, and we can’t possibly not help him…as his friends.”

“but nat, if you’re not comfortable around them, we don’t have to, you know? i know…you have your reservations.”

but she held your hand, firmly, this time. “i know. but we can’t not help clint when he needs us. unless…you don’t want to?”

you shook your head, “of course i want to. i was just…i was afraid you didn’t, so i didn’t offer.”

“well,” she gave a small smile, “there’s a first for everything.” 

clint hugged the both of you like a grizzly bear as words of appreciation tumbled out of his mouth when you told him of the offer. natasha thought he looked like he was going to cry. 

–

while cooper was considerably an older toddler, baby lila was only about a year old. natasha remembered their birthdays. she remembered laura had been pregnant when you and clint first rescued her, which explained a lot of his agitation and desperation to return home safely. 

you walked in the door first, holding lila as she slept in your arms, while cooper was holding the ends of natasha’s jacket when he followed her in. she had stiffened when he first held her hand, and she cringed when he noticed; putting his hand on her jacket instead. you reassured her it was fine, and that if he hadn’t made a big deal out of it, she shouldn’t overthink it either. 

it was almost dinner time when the four of you arrived in yours and natasha’s apartment. the two of you had spent the better part of the morning and afternoon baby-proofing the place before picking them up. natasha had never known so many parts of the house had been so hazardous to baby lila, as she carefully checked and rechecked the apartment’s hazards. you watched her lovingly throughout her doing so, and getting yelled at by her when she found you accidentally leaving a power socket unplugged.

“what should we have for dinner?” natasha asked, to which you pulled up a list of recipes laura usually made for them. natasha took one look at them, and turned her nose, “those sound gross.”

you laughed, but began gathering ingredients anyway. “well, it’s what those two would have wanted.”

“how about we just order a pizza instead?” natasha quipped, to cooper’s delight. he had overheard the conversation, and began chanting pizza, pizza, pizza immediately after. 

you shared a glance with natasha, before telling him, “oh, your mommy said we can’t have–”

“–pizza, pizza pizza!” natasha suddenly joined in, standing beside him as the both of them gave you pouts and puppy dog eyes, and you knew you were at a losing end for this one. 

you ordered the pizza, and whispered to natasha later, when cooper was out of earshot, “you are such an enabler.”

“i give the kids what they want.”

you had to remind cooper very carefully to not tell clint and laura of just what he had been eating at your place when they got back. he only half-listened, busy tucking into the pieces of pizza natasha had carefully cut into equal, smaller squares for him. 

–

natasha stood by the bathroom door as you gave cooper his bath later on, cursing internally to yourself as he continually splashed you with the soapy bathwater. she laughed along with him as you blew shampoo out of your mouth for the fourth time in the span of ten minutes. 

“cooper, i will summon a giant shark to bite your soapy fins if you splash me one more time!” you had threatened, but the boy, upon seeing natasha’s giant grin behind him, had only laughed and splashed you once again. 

you shot a glare to natasha, but she only shrugged and gave you an amused smirk. she was so thankful that she had peeped in to see just how you were doing, despite being hesitant of giving the kids baths at first. 

you had assured her that it was fine, and that you didn’t want to overstep her boundaries, but natasha was struck with a curiosity and eagerness to know just how it would go. you certainly didn’t complain. 

seeing just how much fun you had with cooper, she volunteered to help with lila’s bath later on, much to your relief. you carefully taught her how to bathe the baby then, ensuring her head never dipped too deep into the water, and natasha held the girl with the fragility and care that she had for the tesseract back then. you found it difficult to stay irritated at her for long, not when she was so earnest in trying to not be stiff, and as natural as possible, bathing little lila. 

you thought she got just the reward for her efforts as the baby laughed at her antics, awarding her with a wide smile and minimal reluctance in being dressed for bed later on. 

– 

the next morning, when natasha opened her eyes, the first thing she noticed was that the space next to her was empty. she let her hand roam over the cold sheets, and groaned when she realised that she had slept in. you were already busy with the kids downstairs. 

rubbing her eyes and making her way down, she finally spotted you in the kitchen with clint’s children. you had pulled up a chair for cooper to stand beside you, and lila was rested on your hips while you carried her. you were busy instructing the boy to carefully ladle pancake mixture onto the stove. 

“okay, careful, steady, now. don’t ladle too much, or the inside’s going to be uncooked,” you held his hand as he poured the mixture in, giggling at the consistency and sight of the pancakes. natasha knew clint would have never allowed his kids near the stove. 

cooper watched intently as you flipped the pancakes for him a few minutes later, pointing to his baby sister at the magnificent contraption that was a frying pan. lila had her mouth agape watching your antics. the baby looked absolutely enamoured by you. from above, natasha supposed she wasn’t so different. 

she wrapped her arms around you as she approached, and you greeted her good morning with a kiss. she would never tire of the feeling of your lips against hers.

the four of you sat down for breakfast later on, and in the belief of her abilities and newfound adoration for the child, natasha volunteered to sit beside lila to feed her. the girl was more than happy to slam her hands on the baby chair and squash and smash the pancakes with her grubby fingers. you and natasha exchanged laughs watching her so. 

“she’s really so cute, isn’t she?” you remarked. natasha nodded, feeding the girl some of her porridge. 

“they’re both so cute. angels.”

you watched her patiently wait for lila to open her mouth, instructing her to sip the porridge slowly, and you thought she looked almost like a natural. in the oversized shirt that was yours, her hair tied up in a bun, face free of makeup, natasha looked so beautiful feeding the child. naturally so, like the role was made just for her. 

you couldn’t help taking out your phone, and snapping a quick photo of her and lila then. you could almost kiss the screen with how lovely she looked. 

–

“go and have some me-time for a bit, i’ll take the kids for a grocery run,” you mentioned to natasha later that day, as the both of you cleaned up while the kids napped. 

she paused for a minute, and you continued, “i know how hard this can be for you. and i figured a nice change of scenery for the kids would be good. a fun trip to the supermarket.”

“are you sure? i can help with the kids too, you know? this should be teamwork.”

“i’m fine, i can handle it. you need to rest, i don’t want to overload you with so much of them. we should take these things slow. have a bath, go to the gym, whatever you want to do. i’ve got them.”

with soapy hands and the dishes thrown into the sink, natasha pulled you down for a kiss, murmuring, “i love you, i love you so much.”

you giggled as you embraced her back. 

–

however, at the supermarket, you quickly realised that you were a sucker for cooper’s puppy dog eyes; you could never say no to him when he flaunted them. you gave in, first to a pack of cookies, then a box of chocolates, by the time he had shown them to you again while clutching a tub of ice cream, you knew that he had you wrapped right around his finger. 

you scooped him up then, threatening to bite his cheeks. “i am going to get into so much trouble with your daddy. please, please, pick between the cookies or that, sweetheart.”

he pouted, but you shook your head desperately, “please, don’t pull that on me. you know you’ll win.”

you ended up spending more time than necessary convincing the boy to pick just two of his favourites, with a deal that lila got to pick her own snacks. you tried to tell him that she was too young to do so, but his sister had his back; and he ended up getting the ice cream anyway. 

and at the cashier line, you spotted the flowers section, and made a quick detour for them.

“i have a mission for you both. we’re going to pick the nicest, prettiest flowers for aunty nat, okay?”

it was lila’s turn to use her expertise, as you let her get her hands on any flowers she wanted for herself, and flowers that she could pick for natasha. there was a serious discussion between the kids, until they ultimately decided on getting pink roses for your wife. 

you had to once again beg cooper not to tell his parents of just what you allowed him to buy at the store, while lila happily helped to hold on to the flowers in her baby seat in the car. 

– 

“aunty natttt!” natasha was more than happy to oblige coming down the stairs, seeing your car pull into the parking lots from the window. 

freshly showered and energised from the gym, natasha suddenly felt her heart melt into a lovesick puddle as cooper rushed towards her, holding the bouquet of roses that covered nearly his whole face. “we picked this for you!”

“oh my,” she breathed, accepting it gratefully as she made eye contact with you. if there were a million universes, she wished she was married to you in all of them. 

you sheepishly came to her, putting lila down and letting her return to her toys. “hi, we’re home.”

the flowers were crushed in between your bodies as she pulled you in, kissing your lips until they were almost going to bruise. you chuckled, helping her find a vase for them after. “thought it was a nice gesture. they picked the pink roses.”

“you know that i love you so much, right?” she asked seriously, head on your shoulder as you carefully placed the flowers in the vase. she almost never wanted to let you go. “you’re so good to me.”

“just what you deserve.”

– 

natasha was almost heartbroken to have to say goodbye to the kids after the three nights they spent in your home; something she would never have said just a few months ago. they had changed her, and her perspective on what she saw were fragile, tortured souls, for so long. natasha never knew children could ever be so innocent and carefree. she never knew she could be so carefree and loving to them either, not until you showed her of just how happy they could make a home be. 

you had to go on a mission the following day, so the two of you spent the rest of the day in bed, relishing in each other’s presence before you would be separated for a little while. 

she rolled over in your arms when your phone rang, and the sight that greeted her made her stomach whirl. your wallpaper was the one of her and lila, the morning where you made breakfast for all of them. natasha could almost agree the ease and love she had for the child was unbridled and pure, evident in the photo of it then. 

“darling…” she drawled, hiding her face in your neck. it had been playing in the back of her mind, moving to the tip of her tongue then. the photo just confirmed everything she had always known. you had changed her, mind, body and soul. 

“yes, nat?” 

suddenly, it wasn’t so suffocating, or difficult to say, “let’s have kids too.”

there was a hitch in your breathing, hesitation for a minute, and natasha wondered if she had said the wrong thing, if she had overestimated your love for children, if it was a mistake confessing that at all. she even thought, for a moment, that it would cause a rift in your relationship, and whether it was stupid to have said anything at all.

but then, your arms wrapped around her even tighter, as you brought her to face you. “...are you saying…?”

“they’re not so bad, cooper and lila, and all those other ones we’ve been around,” she confessed, “and i look at you, and i can’t think of anyone else more fitting to be a parent. especially a parent by my side. i’m ready to have children with you, and i want to carry them. for the rest of my life too.”

she felt hot, happy tears against her skin, as you sniffled and tried to hide your tears of joy. she smiled at you, letting her thumb graze over your skin. “i love you, and i want to share the rest of my life with you. but i think our lives will be even better if we can share it with our children, too.”

you nodded. at that point, you would have done anything natasha could ever want. “i think so too. but natasha, i want you to be absolutely sure of this, because…”

“...and i am. i am absolutely sure.” but she looked away sadly suddenly, swallowing her own tears. “i just–it’s difficult to even speak of it when i’m…when i can’t have them for you. not after what the red room did.”

it was your turn to wipe her tears, rolling over so you were on top, reassuring her, “in the morning, i promise, i swear on my life, that i will find a solution. tony and i…we had a discussion once. about letting the widows have a second chance. about giving them the freedom of choice to have a family. we even asked bruce about the possibility of a reverse hysterectomy.”

“and you stopped? the idea from going further?”

“well, i didn’t want to freak you out. you told me you didn’t want kids, and i thought bringing up the subject would make you uncomfortable,” you confessed, “though, now i wished we had started earlier.”

natasha thought for a moment, before, “i’ll do it.”

“hmm?”

“i’ll be your test subject, i’ll do it, if you and tony ever do it. i want to be the one to carry, and give you kids, baby. this is a once in a lifetime opportunity for us. and if there’s anyone that is able to do it, it’s you, tony, and bruce. no others i would trust with my life, and my body, more.”

natasha saw just the love and adoration in your eyes, and for once, she finally believed that she was so deserving of that love. she finally saw just how important, and loved she was, looking into your eyes, and the warmth that surged through her system made her want to curl even further into you and be in your embrace forever. 

“i love you so much, natasha romanoff,” you muttered, “my wife, the mother of my children.”

she giggled into your skin, sitting up for a minute to feel your lips against hers. this time, the salty tears from both of your eyes only made the kisses even sweeter, even more lovely. she thanked clint and laura for giving her the opportunity to experience being a parent, tony and bruce for thinking of her so lovingly to want to give her a second chance at being a mother, and her lucky stars for you. 

[r0-boat]

Because I’m starving for the boy who clearly came out of a shoujo manga. The true beauty of Hades imho. Could I request some sweet and maybe spicy Foras headcanons? 🌸

Ooh YES!!

Foras headcanons

Nsfw&Sfw

Cw: stalking, dubcon.

Sfw

Foras is in unknown territory. It's just a flutter every time he sees you. You're so bright and lively that he shy is always so easily. But at the same time, it's that same bright and liveliness He wants to protect and cherish. He has never been in love before. And the fluttery feelings honestly scare him.

Balancing his love and loyalty for his king and his love for you is difficult... Especially when the two of you fight like angels and devils. He knows how much you don't like Levi but he'll still at least try to get you to have a better relationship. (He doesn't know the dynamic you two have) he can't help but selfishly fantasize about having both you and leviathan his arms. And he hates seeing two people he loves fight.

Foras wants you but never dared to act on those feelings; call it shyness. Or call it not wanting to give unwanted competition to his king. He avoids you when he's visible; when he's invisible, he's practically your new shadow. He passes off as an excuse, throwing his king under the bus. Telling you that Levi had ordered him to stalk you. (Something he would tell you if you actually catch him) which is half true. Yes, Levi wants him to follow you around everywhere you go to report back to him. But honestly, he's just as curious about you as Levi.

But will not fight you if You're the one initiates. In fact, he would prefer that; his heart would go wild if you pull on his ropes and pull them into a kiss. He doesn't care if he gets punished for this. He wants to feel your soft lips against his.

Touch starved. Extremely touched starved. Melting into your hand when you pat his head, touched starved. He wants more, but he doesn't want to ask.

He feels that little pain in his chest, poisonous jealousy when other devils get your attention. But, he had never acted out on those feelings before.

He would only do something if it protected you. Or if an angel attacked you and your all alone. He is the reason that water or snacks would magically appear if you say the your hungry or thirsty.

Nsfw

He can't say that he has claim over you, Even though it'd feel good too. He wants to claim you in more ways, claim the inside of his body in the most prime way. He touches himself every night dreaming to how you would feel. Every night, he would touch himself to you, wishing and wanting. He hates to admit it, but one time, he came into your room invisible and walked in on you, touching yourself. His breath was getting heavy and shaky, looking how your fingers and hands played with yourself. After a while of watching you, he gives in, sliding his hand into his pants to palm himself. Biting his lip to hold back his sounds.

His greatest fantasy is fucking you in front of Leviathan. Whether it be ordered to do so or not, it's something that he jacks off to constantly.

Despite being a devil, He's actually sort of innocent by devil standards. He has never had sex before.

Now that he is over you, his face is pink, and he is nervous; he wants to pleasure you. He wants to make you feel good. even though he's very nervous. At least he knows how you like to touch yourself.

Pull on his chains will you ride him; he'll go insane. Those things are just for decoration, so they might break, but he doesn't care. The sight was so hot he filled you up on the spot.

Closet pervert. Chivalrous knight of hell is a closet pervert! He has a virgin but at the same time he thinks about doing real nasty things to you you'll never know because of his straight face.

[flashbangstars]

Domestically, Painfully, Loving.

Pairing: Renjun x Female Reader wc: 2.5k+

Summary: You and Renjun have been roommates for the past two years and apparently the roommate dynamic you thought you had was not very roommate-y

Genre: suggestive, fluff, he and MC are painfully domestic.

Warnings: suggestive at the end/mentions of sex (like I literally just say sex a lot)

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It was for sure one of those mornings. You didn’t wake up to any of your alarms, your windows were drawn, and your bed was too warm to get out of. The thought of skipping the 9 am you had was now in bright bold letters in the forefront of your brain and honestly seemed like the move. 

Then all of a sudden I hear this grating voice…. Just kidding it’s just Renjun. You hear him shuffling around in the hallways outside dangerously close to your door. You both had sworn to not lock your doors if it was a regular night because He had claimed it was a safety hazard. 

You heard the door knob jingle, and then devastatingly open to Him in all his glory. He was fully dressed minus shoes and had the annoyed look he usually carries when you piss him off. 

“It is almost 8:00 and if you don’t get up you’re going to miss your class,” He said sternly as he invited himself into your room and went to your closet

“I think I might just take the L on this one and miss it” you yawned and rolled over turning your back to him.

“No, and please don’t ever say “take the L” in front of me ever again,” Renjun said as he dug through your closet.

“Sorry, Your Highness” your voice strained as you slumped over in bed attempting to get up. 

“I put clothes on your chair, I’m giving you 20 minutes and then we are leaving,” He said as he grabbed your wrists pulling you the rest of the way out of bed. Leaving you to your own devices after. 

Renjun and you had lived together for 2 years now and this was the dynamic. Renjun helped you keep your shit together, and simultaneously you helped him not lose his. A perfect balance. 

On your desk chair was a white sweatshirt and matching white sweatpants. One of the sets you had invested in after Renjun had introduced you to the world of “nice sweats” and on top of the sweat suit was a black sports bra from your dresser. There weren’t a lot of boundaries between you at this point, to be honest.

After changing you trudged into the bathroom where he was standing finishing his hair. Nudging him with your hip to move you slid in closer to the outlet of your hair. Renjun grabbed your hair into a ponytail and pulled it off your neck. 

“I think you should wear your hair in a claw clip, it shows off your neck” You blinked at both of your reflections in the mirror with zero energy to fight him, nodding in agreement. Renjun then grabs the brush from the side brushing your hair out, and then twisting it into the claw clip. 

“Alright there you go,” Renjun said patting your hip, moving you out of his way to finish his hair.

“I already ordered coffee so we gotta go soon, go put your shoes on, and do the Jordan's not the Converse,” Renjun ordered you around as he blow-dried his hair. 

Finishing the multiple tasks he gave you, you were now standing at the door waiting for him to come escort you to the kitchen like a goddamn kindergartener to school. Now joining you in the entryway putting his shoes on. He was wearing a pair of loose-fit jeans and a white button-up on top of a T-shirt. 

This contrast between you two is crazy.

You two both lived a very domestic life. When you had moved in together you strikingly got along really well. Renjun had slowly but surely worked himself to be at the forefront of important people in your life. He was just a very considerate person in his way and it showed with those he cared about….which you just happened to be!

Does he dress you up like a little doll sometimes.. yes! And like who doesn’t like that shit, domesticity in a household is like crack to weak-minded, and hey bitch.. I am the weak-minded.

Getting to campus you departed from Renjun and walked towards the lecture. Finding your spot in the auditorium and going to your friends who have saved it for you. 

“Good morning darling, look who showed up today” Giselle nudged your shoulder laughing,

“And look! Her boyfriend got her coffee, god bless the lovely couple”  Karina traced her finger along the big RENJUN written on the side of your coffee cup. 

“Oh shut up, he’s not my boyfriend. He just buys the coffee in the morning” You shrugged taking a sip. Putting your coffee down meeting eyes with your two best friends silently staring at you with their eyebrows knit.

“What do you mean he isn’t your boyfriend” Giselle asked voice flat

“Renjun is not my boyfriend… we just live together,” You said again confused as to why you were being questioned. 

“Y/n are you kidding….?” Karina spoke up over Giselle’s shoulder sharing the same confused look “I watched you two hold hands the other day while walking home, like clasp your fucking fingers and hold hands” Gisele gripped Karina’s hand to demonstrate.

“Yeah because I was tired and need to keep up with him while we were walking he’s fast for a little guy” you explain trying to mediate whatever the fuck was now happening 

“Oh, you poor poor girl” Karina now pushing herself fully into the conversation “y/n people do not act like that with people who they aren’t dating plus you two live together… you do know that everyone thinks you two are dating right?”

You felt your hole clench at that statement. Hole clench, toe curl, and heart drop. “What do you mean people think we are dating..?” Your voice sounded more pathetic than you wanted it to be.

“Y/n you two are probably two of the most domestic people I know, I watched you and Renjun hug for a solid two minutes yesterday and then he fixed your hair after. Who the fuck does that. Other than two people who are having painfully loving sex?” She asked. 

You two weren’t having painfully loving sex! Neither of you were having sex! You would know, the walls are thin. 

“But we aren’t having painfully loving sex” you pouted still confused

“And that’s fucked up for you, and your vagina!” Karina rubbed your shoulder.

“Be honest with yourself Y/n would you have painfully loving sex with Renjun if you had the chance?” Giselle asked 

And just like that, your world fucking crashed in. Because you WOULD! You would have painfully loving earth-shattering war of worlds universe colliding sex with Renjun! Your body was in a sense of shock and you felt your eyes stuck open wide at the sudden realization you would bone your roommate and would maybe like to be in a grossly domestic relationship with him. 

“I think we broke her” Karina waved her hand in front of your face and snapped. 

“I think I have a crush on Renjun” you whispered in disbelief. 

“Substantial realizations here before 9 am ladies and gentlemen” Giselle clapped as if your now mental breakdown was an achievement.

“I think I need to go home right now and I think I need to go rethink everything that has happened to me for the past two years,” You said in a frantic whisper as you packed the rest of your things and left the lecture hall 5 minutes before class was supposed to start. Ignoring what Karina and Giselle were saying trying to get you to pause your mental breakdown and sit back down for geology 

Fuck geology I'm having a crisis!

Speed walking out of the lecture hall it still felt like you had a cold bucket of water dumped on you, and then someone pushed you down a flight of stairs too. How had you not realized you had a crush on him? You two did almost everything together, you did almost everything together!!!! 

Turning the corner and stopping dead in your tracks making eye contact with the devil himself, renjun. His eyes widened at first meeting yours, and then brows furrowed in confusion. You had two choices right now; run away OR admit defeat and face him. Running away seemed like the best option but you would have to face him later that night at the apartment and currently with the realization you were going through, you didn’t want to have to face him to explain why you ran away. 

The familiar pair of brows excused himself from his friends and walked up to you with a look of concern painting his features. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be in science right now? Where are you going” he asked, the worry evident in his voice. Making your stomach twist into knots. 

“I uh.. don’t feel great so I think I’m just going to raincheck on classes today” you spoke not making eye contact with him once. Your eyes thought immediately shooting to meet his as he rested his hand on your forehead, and then slowly moved it to cup your cheek. 

“You do feel a bit warm” his voice was still laced with concern. Your face was warm, but that was due to the fact you were screaming on the inside from your roommate caressing your face to see if you were sick. “I don’t have a lecture for another 30 minutes but I can miss it I’ll take you home!” Renjun said and reached to grab your wrist to drag you towards his car. 

your wrist was tingling from the contact, and the thought of mind-blowing sex was now on the forefront of your conscious “NO *cough* no! I am fine, I’m going to take the bus and probably stop for some…tea! On the way home”

You don’t drink tea. 

His hand released your wrist and he scanned your face skeptically. “You don’t drink tea though” 

fUCK!

“Well, I just figured a good time to start! Being sick and all! *cough cough* wow! Okay well, I’m gonna go I will see you later!” Your sentence slowly lost control towards the end, you turned around and booked it to the bus stop, not even turning to see if he said bye or was still looking. 

It had been 2 years of you two living together, how did you just realize now? And people already thought you two were dating? Does everyone think we fucked?

Does he think we are dating??

Does Renjun think we are dating?

You two do regular roommate stuff, He literally dressed you this morning and did your hair… HE DRESSED YOU AND DID YOUR HAIR. Oh holy fuck oh god oh what the fuck

Were you two dating? We we dating???

As soon as you got home from the bus you paced the living room for a good 45 minutes trying to rethink the last two years and what may have been perceived as you two dating, and so far there was a lot. 

Renjun and you frequently hold hands, you both purposely created school schedules that ended and started around the same time each other, and you have both met each other’s families. The list fucking continues.

To be quite honest you weren’t sure what the reality was at all now. Renjun’s class ended at 12 and it was 12:15 so he would be home any minute. 

The lock clicked and you watched as the door opened to Renjun, Walking in and smiling at you.

“How are you feeling? You ran away before I asked you anything else” He asked as he took his shoes off, but continued to hold eye contact, returning to that same look he had earlier when you had sold the idea of you being sick.

Ripping the bandaid off you said it

“Are we dating?” The question sounded like a scream in the quiet apartment. 

Renjun paused and stood back up

“If that is what you wanna call it..?” He said shrugging

What do you mean ‘if that is what you wanna call it’

“Wait.. so you thought we were dating?” Your body began to tense at the prospect of you not being aware of your relationship status for the past two years 

Renjun looked away like he was thinking and tilted his head “Well no… But I don’t act the way I act with you with anyone else, I just figured we weren’t putting a label on anything” He said walking closer to you and sitting on the couch in front of you “You haven’t seen anyone, and haven’t expressed that interest in doing so and neither have I and to be very fair quite literally everyone thinks we are dating” he laughed at his last part of his sentence as you were melting into a small puddle in the middle of your living room. 

“Oh” was the only word able to make it out of your mouth as your state of shock had taken over your entire body. 

“I mean we already live together, it would honestly be quite convenient for us to be dating” Renjun added seemingly unaware of the turmoil you were still in. 

“But Karina said that we look like a couple who has painfully loving sex, and we aren’t having painfully loving sex though! We haven’t even kissed!” Did you whine at your roommate-boyfriends? Non-chalantness about the topic. 

“Well, we can. It doesn’t define a relationship, but if painfully loving sex is what you want then we can make it happen” His voice garnered a new lilt to it as soon as the prospect of coochie became a distant goal

‘Hold on PLEASE I’m so lost” You threw your arms up in surrender now confused as to what you had gotten yourself into.  “So you are actually into me?” You questioned 

“Yes, very” well damn.

“Oh okay, well yeah me too” you responded 

“Sick,” He said as he began to take his shirt off. 

“WOAH” the screech leaving your mouth before you could catch it 

“Painfully loving sex remember?” He said as he moved across the living room to grab you by the waist. “Would you be interested in some painfully loving sex, and for me to be your boyfriend officially?” His thumbs rubbed circles into your hips as he asked. 

Now your coochie was for sure in the mix, as much as you wanted to scream and claw at him like a feral animal, you kept it in. 

“That would be very nice yes! And yes I would love that” you decided to say instead.

His hands traveled from where they sat on your hips and landed under your thighs, picking you up and your legs clasping around his waist. And your hands made it to both sides of his his face bringing his lips to yours. 

It felt like two years of sharing beds and dangerously domestic actions all culminating in this sloppy kiss. His teeth teased your bottom lip and took it with him gently when he pulled away and then released. Your chest heaving from the lack of air, and your face red from the situation you were in 

“My room or yours.”

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Hello! here is the entry for Renjun, It's not one of my favorites but I liked the plot! lmk who you want next!

[whalesforhands]

what’s yours is mine (8/?)

previous masterlist next

pairing: geto suguru x reader x gojo satoru

You don’t know a lot of things, and you readily admit that. What you do know, is that the friends you’ve made aren’t something you will ever regret. Until your physical body weakens and becomes nothing, you’re more than happy to give your all until you wither away.

What’s yours can be theirs, too. They’re your friends, after-all. (Omegaverse AU)

“You should stop hanging around people like me.” It’s said with a grunt of conviction, low and throaty and trying to sound too much like he didn’t care. Like it didn’t mean anything if you left him.

(The only reason you can tell is because Satoru does the exact same thing.)

And you only ever have a single reply to statements like that, despite all your confusion about the origins of such things.

“Nope.” You pop the ending sound, kicking your feet up as you finish off the rest of your crumbled snack, dusting your fingers of biscuit dust as you dab your hanky against your lips. “You’re stuck with me now.”

Just like how he’s stuck with you.

“What?” He lets out a dry laugh, disbelieved green eyes narrowed down at you as the scar on his lip stretches out into a lazy grin. “Don’t tell me ya think of me as a friend or somethin’?”

“No.” He’s partially wrong, you’re pretty sure. “Adults and kids can’t be friends.”

They’re not allowed to. Something about ethics, about danger, about candy and chocolate and not even your favourite pudding. You don’t remember the whole thing, but you know kids and adults are not allowed to mix together like that.

Not allowed to be like you, Suguru and Satoru.

That’s what your Mama always taught you. That it was for the best, that you should always be careful. So you definitely think you know better as your head is tilted to the side and you point a finger at him; before directing it at yourself with that familiar grin on your face.

“So you’re my teacher and I’m your disciple.”

“The fuck?”

Mhm. Sounds about right. You nod to yourself, a proud hand on your chin as you give a pat on your own back for not only sticking to Mama’s words, but also finally claiming the scariest, biggest kid-adult around as your mentor.

Things are going perfectly as planned.

“I’m gonna get as strong and as scary as you are so that nobody can ever mess with me again.”

That’s right. You’ll grow so strong that everybody would fear you just as much or even more than Satoru— Then they’ll finally like him more. Finally be able to talk to him because they’re more scared of you than they are him. Nobody can ever make fun of Suguru, talk badly about your Mama or better yet— You can be the one that beats up all the ‘piss ugly freaks who beg to have their faces pummelled in’ like Mister Teacher here always says.

(It’s totally fine because your teacher does it too, right?)

“And what makes ya think I’m gonna teach you anything, brat?”

Well, you haven’t really thought that one through. That’s a very good question. As expected of your teacher.

“Cause I’m helpful and cute.”

‘Helpful’. Also known as using the very last of your well-loved, wacky band-aid collection on him. Your absolute favourites that you just couldn’t bring yourself to use that had been offered up to him the times you see him collapsed against the bench and snoring away.

So you took the liberty of pouring water on his cuts and heartbreakingly parting with your precious, precious band-aids.

All is part and parcel of being a hero, anyway.

(And the cute part… Mama always tells you that you are, anyway.)

“I’ll even buy you those big protective gloves so you can stop hurting your hands when I’m older and have a job like my Mama.”

“Pfft— Yea? What are ya even gonna work as to afford those?”

You barely hesitate in your reply, the turn of your head far too quick as the apples of your cheeks show through your excited smile.

“A hero.”

“And if they don’t pay enough?”

Well. You never really thought about that. Does being a hero really not pay as well as you think? Come to think of it… You’ve never seen Sailor Moon get paid. It seems like being a magical girl doesn’t come with a celery.

(Can you really pay for things in vegetables? You’ll ask Mama to help you grow some. Even if you don’t want to eat them…)

“Justice will always be rewarded.”

And this Mister that you talk to too much finally starts laughing, slapping his knee as he starts howling with laughter and snorting through his nose. It was loud, it was free.

Without a care in the world.

“You’re one dumb fuckin’ kid, ain’t cha?”

At least he’s smiling again. Even if you’re pretty sure he was making fun of you as you pout at his head that was positioned too high up upon his shoulders.

(Or maybe his neck was too long?)

“You can’t say that if you’re my teacher!”

“Then ya can’t yell at me if y’er my disciple.”

——

Even if one good thing comes to fruition, you should never be too comfortable with what the future may have in store for you. Small, minuscule little things always add up to big ones, snowballing into a problem that you just didn’t foresee before it comes hurling down towards you.

That’s what the astrology charts said, anyway. You didn’t understand then, but you think you do now that it has really ‘come to fruition’. Surely, it couldn’t be any truer now as your hand is slapped away, the smack echoing throughout the playground as your eyes widen and your skin stings with a feeling too unpleasant.

“I don’t wanna hear it! Don’t talk! Be quiet!”

Usually, Satoru telling you to shut up in 3 different ways would be less hostile, would have less weight to them. Usually, those sky coloured eyes wouldn’t glare at you with so much hatred, wouldn’t have so much pressure that threatened to pummel you to your knees.

(Because this is still your Satoru, isn’t it?)

“B-But Ieiri-chan and I are—“

“How many times are you gonna break our promise?!” His face is dusted with red— Not the sweet cherry shade that you were used to seeing when he got embarrassed or shy. The air felt like it was pricking you, prodding at you uncomfortably as you shrink in on yourself whilst nursing the area that hurt way more than you thought.

That’s why it irritated your eyes so much, right? Did the air always smell so hostile? So uncomfortably angry and horrible and heartbreaking?

“I told ya so many times that you can’t be friends with anyone other than me! That you’re not allowed to betray me! That you promised me!” It came out as an angry squeak, something adults would probably laugh at— Yet it felt like he was hammering nails into your heart as a lump builds up in your throat and the thrumming of your heartbeat against your chest becomes too much.

“Are you even trying anymore?!”

He’s right. You’re fine with your classmates whispering things whenever you walked past, fine with their trailing eyes and quiet gossips about how you’re just kissing up, fine that they’ll never truly like you for you just because you chose to associate with the Gojo family.

But you never once thought that being called a horrible friend would hurt this much. It tore through you, guilt riddling your very being as you whimper and bite down on your lip, trying to steady your breaths as you tried not to cry.

Because do you even deserve to? You’re not the one who was hurt in this situation. You’re not the one who kept true to the promise you made all those years ago.

“I-I really—“ Really didn’t mean it. Truly. It’s not a secret that you want to be on friendly terms with anyone willing to talk to you, not a surprise that you’ve been waving to and greeting the easy-going girl whenever you see her in class.

But it seems everything has a breaking point.

“I’m s-sorry…” Your hands bundle up the hem of your shirt, sweat getting absorbed by the cotton fabric, your head that tilted downwards as tears began to drip from your eyes and phlegm built up in your throat as you hiccuped your words.

“I didn’t mean to h-hurt you, Satoru…”

Because you never meant for him to feel this way. You’ve always taken him into consideration, always wanted him to be happy when he was with you; beside you.

It was your fault for trying too hard to find workarounds, to mistakenly believe that it was still fine to interact with someone who you thought was an outlier to the promise.

(Or was it simply your fault for wanting to make a decision that was far too selfish?)

And he doesn’t even say anything else to you, only the feel of his eyes stabbing into your conscience before you hear him stomp away, his familiar sneakers kicking up sand that left you in the dust as you’re left behind in this setting sun that casted your shadow behind you, growing longer and longer the more the light dimmed.

“Kimi-chan! I wanna go home!”

“G-Gojo-sama, are you not going to play a little longer? There’s still quite a bit of time left before you—“

A beat of silence.

“Understood, Young Master. I will prepare the car to send the both of you back home.”

Maybe you deserve this, you think. Maybe this was the punishment you had to bear as you’re sat in the back of the car all on your lonesome as your now silent friend makes nay a sound in the front seat.

Separated from you. Not even saying goodbye to you as Kimiko-san opens the door for you, her apologetic eyes and a polite bow as you’re left behind in the cloud of dust formed behind the car.

Silently waving it goodbye.

So you think you definitely deserve it as you drag yourself to your front door, past the genkan and kicking off your shoes as you kept your gaze stuck to the floor and your hands frantically wiping the wetness from your eyes when you hear the shuffling in the kitchen and the clatter of the lid against a boiling pot.

Your first ever fight. Or would it be more accurate to say— Your first ever fallout with anybody at all? You don’t know how to process it, what you’re gonna do now that you were left without an answer to your teary apology and small voice.

“What’s wrong?” Her hand is in your hair as she pats you, your chopsticks suddenly feeling too heavy as you blink back into reality, your blurry gaze finally focusing back as you shake your head lightly—

“But you haven’t touched any of your food.” And you realize that you’ve only been blankly staring down at the steaming bowl of rice, had barely touched any of the meatballs that your Mama made.

“Is the soup not good? I forgot to pick up the miso today so I had to make do with salt.” Her chopsticks clack down as she picks up her own bowl, bringing it up to her lips as she takes another taste for good measure.

“No.” Because you aren’t the type to want to worry your Mama, not the type to want her to think too much about you whilst she’s hard at her job.

“It tastes really good, Mama.”

Not the type to want to bother her with problems that were solely your own. Especially when she’s been coming home with dark bags under her eyes and a tired smile on her face when she kisses your forehead in greeting each and every time.

She’s strong, so you want to be strong too.

It’s your own secret for now, because you want to hide this. It’s your choice, something you made for yourself as you hurriedly scoop more rice into these lips that told too many lies and kept a secret from your own Mama that you always claimed to love so much.

“Yua-sensei just gave too much homework today.” You add a smile at the end just for good measure, forcing the bright grin you usually show her as you stuff another meatball into your mouth.

Maybe you really are not as good of a kid as you thought. But you sincerely hope she believes you, hope she can fall for it— Even if it was just this once.

“I’m here if you need any help, okay?”

“Mhm. Thanks, Mama.”

You’ll solve this. You think you can’t… But you’ll still do your best to, anyway.

It’s a problem you caused.

“Are you okay?” The towel in his hair is haphazardly thrown over his head, his voice a prodding question to your conscience as you limply hold the other paper cup telephone in your hand.

“Did something happen while I was at training today?”

Your nightly talks with your Suguru.

“No,” Your voice is barely audible even through the makeshift telephone, throat scratchy as your shoulders slump even further and you think you might want to hide away forever. “But you need to dry your hair before you catch a cold…”

Because for some reason, you feel too ashamed to even face him right now.

“Speak for yourself first, (name).” His head is propped up against his arm as he raises a brow, looking at you and your still slightly damp hair from your bath as you continued to wipe off the tears that just refused to stop falling, that refused to pretend that everything was truly as alright as you wanted to make it seem.

The moon was out, and the sky was clear. So it made that the only other witness to your quiet, wordless sadness as you stare down at your hand, the sting of the hit long gone— For it just wasn’t hard enough to cause enough harm to you.

“You fought with Satoru, right?” It’s suddenly voiced out and almost scares you— Almost makes you start sobbing outright there and then.

How… Do the people around you always read you so well? How do they always tell that something’s wrong with you despite all the effort you put into hiding it? Were you bad at lying despite doing it so much? Were you doomed to simply be called a liar that wasn’t even good at the one thing they were labelled as?

(So much for lying for the ‘greater good’.)

“…cause you keep looking like you’re gonna cry.” That’s a lie. You know he’s telling a lie so that he won’t make you feel any worse, so that you won’t feel so embarrassed. You know he’s telling a lie because you were already crying, your stupid tears that just kept falling no matter how hard you’ve tried to keep yourself in check, no matter how hard you bit down on your lip or how hard you’ve tried to muffle your sniffles.

You’re the most hopeless, worst liar ever.

“Do you like her?” His voice is soft and whispered and low so that it wouldn’t startle you, trying to blanket you in his caress despite the distance between your windows. “Ieiri-san, I mean.”

Ah. You should’ve expected him to already know.

But to answer his question… You do. You really do. She wasn’t like the rest of the kids who questioned you on your relationship with the Gojo child, wasn’t like the other kids who judged you simply because you didn’t exactly fit in with the rest of them or because you didn’t really like playing outside during break.

So, you pathetically nod in reply, wiping snot off from your philtrum and trying really hard to find your voice, trying really hard to be honest so that you wouldn’t lie anymore.

So that you didn’t have to pretend like nothing was wrong.

“I like her.” You really, genuinely do. Even if she was hard to read, even if she takes things too lightly or seemed like she didn’t care… She always proved that she did in the end. Maybe it was giving you an extra of the magical eraser you’ve been secretly eyeing in her pencil case, maybe it was letting you lean on her shoulder as you read her shoujo manga beside her.

And maybe it was simply the feeling of having a girl friend that made your heart soar with a feeling unlike the times you hang around your best friends. It was like an unsaid bond, something akin to finding someone with likes too alike yours that it just didn’t make sense to not continue to hang around her.

“Hmm.” His voice is just as tender as ever even if he was simply thinking about your answer, his gaze on you turning unreadable as you wipe away another tear, stifle another sniffle.

Try to act like you really, really weren’t crying.

“And if Satoru and I told you that we didn’t,” You can see how those purple eyes of his glinted with an emotion you didn’t understand, shone with the shimmers of the moonlight that reflected from them as you try your hardest to steel yourself for whatever was coming next.

“Would you still be friends with her?”

Oh. How… Do you reply to this?

“I’m sorry for making you choose. Please don’t cry.” If only he were there beside you, if only he could be there to hold you and tell you that he would tolerate anybody that you liked. If only he could confidently tell you that he wasn’t jealous, wasn’t trying to convince you out of something that you wanted— Only then would he finally be able to fearlessly go over.

Alas, he’ll keep it to himself. He’ll tell himself that it really is all right, tell himself that he can make compromises if it could prevent you from ever crying ever again.

It would be worth it then.

“Then… I won’t try to be friends with her anymore…” Not if you’ll lose the 2 who you think are worth more than whatever you’ll ever be able to count in this life, a bubble of phlegm in your throat clearing when you cough out your reply through your tears.

“I-I don’t like making either of you sad…”

And it locks into silence afterwards, a reply unheard from your poor paper cup that you were just too afraid to soil with your tears as your handkerchief soaks yet another round of your childish dejection.

“Please don’t cry.” It now sounds panicked and not at all alike the

And maybe, just maybe— His words make you think just that little bit more as your own mind swirls in on itself. Maybe you want something for yourself for the first time ever, want to make a decision that was solely you. A decision that would usually be far too dangerous, but for once, it would be your own nonetheless.

That’s how you won’t leave any regrets, right?

“But…” You swallow the lump in your throat again as your reddened, swollen gaze met his. “Would you both please meet her first…?”

Before they decided to hate her forever, that is.

It’s not the best plan, but it was your favourite. That was enough reason to pick it, enough for you to forego any of your other intentions in favour of this.

Because it gave you too much meaning for you to regret anything else.

Though, there was a very big hole in your plan. That being the fact that Satoru… Still won’t talk to you. Even on the way to school when you nervously squeezed Suguru’s hand as you both awaited for the familiar car to arrive, even when you both silently trailed after the… Suddenly sullen boy that refused to speak a singular word towards the both of you.

It’s a boon that you’re all only 8, otherwise your blushing, stubborn friend wouldn’t be showing up at school with his head held high, stubbornly sat next to you as he did his absolute hardest not to look you in the eye all throughout the different periods.

Even if he was— Quite literally, sat next to you. Mangas where best friends avoid each other are a staple you’ve read before— But it seems that the cliches of them being able to avoid each other entirely just didn’t apply in real life.

It doesn’t feel awkward, though. Just… Sad.

“Satoru…?” You visibly deflate when he doesn’t reply, your view of the back of his head being a constant throughout today that didn’t quite settle well with you. So you make do with a frown and dejected stare down at the math worksheet that he would’ve usually been pointing at and trying to make you understand by now.

But it looks like he still didn’t want to talk. Not even when all your trays of food have been cleared and lunch would be just about over in a little while.

“Satoru, seriously?” It’s Geto’s voice that has the snow-haired boy jumping slightly, a twitch of his shoulders and his crystal blue eyes narrowed when he pouts and glares at him with only the slightest, careful turn of his head.

“How long are ya gonna stay mad?”

He could’ve chosen to not come to school, could’ve chosen to go back to his private lessons within his too big home…

But he chose to come here, still. So it means something, right? It definitely does when he finally gets called out by the most sensible out of the 3 of you, finally losing his deity-like patience the moment you’ve given up, his small hands tightly holding yours to comfort you from the all too stubborn, hard-headed friend you both had.

Gojo Satoru was not good at talking. Sure, he can talk anyone’s ear off about Digimon, can go on and on about cakes and how they could be interlinked with the wide world of physics, why his favourite soda brand should be the only one allowed to exist and so many other arbitrary things.

But he was still no good at talking. He can’t speak wholeheartedly like you do, can’t express his emotions so softly like Suguru does— He can’t do it well lest it shows the vulnerability a Gojo does not reveal.

A Gojo does not show weakness. They were raised to never do so, that’s why he’s roughly pushing a neatly wrapped box of cookies that had been crumpled when stuffed into his Digimon backpack, hurriedly snatching up the note very obviously left behind by a certain maidservant for encouragement as he blushes and glares down at his hands.

‘You can do it, Young Master Gojo!’ ٩(^‿^)۶

“K-Kimi-chan said t-this is good apology food so!” The burning tips of his ears grow ever hotter as it’s accidentally shoved off the table and falling onto your lap, curious purple and your own eyes meeting; going down to the box of cookies— And up to the extremely red Satoru that looked like a massively adorable contrast to the waves of ocean blue of his starry eyes.

“S-So just eat it and— And… S-sorry, okay?!”

You should’ve known that your Satoru has always been this way, your hands going up to your cheeks as you perk up and smooth out the crinkled wrapping paper,

“Thank you…”

(“There! I said it!” His blushing face was growing increasingly ashamed as his amethyst-eyed best friend pats his back from behind, your arms wrapped around his neck from the front as you simply can’t help the smile stretched onto your face.

“I’m sorry too, Satoru.”)

(But you still have to break the promise. Just one last time as you pull away from his hug, taking a deep breath and squeezing Suguru’s hand as you prepare to ask for quite possibly— The impossible.)

——

“Ah.” Ieiri Shoko finally sees why you were so nervous when you asked her to come over to play, why the look on your face was so deathly serious and almost constipated looking that she thought you were inviting her over so as to declare a fight to death— Or something like that.

You weren’t exactly the most normal kid around.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” She nods towards him, clearly unimpressed with this situation as all 4 of you sat within Suguru’s room, warm, untouched milk in your cup as you all sat around the low table.

“Gojo.”

Wait. What? Did she just call him by his last name with no honorifics? This— Was the first time they’ve ever looked at each other face to face— To your knowledge, anyway.

Then there could only be one explanation as you watch your cute friend practically chug down another glass of strawberry juice out of pure irritation.

(“At least have some manners when people are talking, Satoru.” Your poor host can only sigh as he watches the boy pout and glare at him, his red cheeks puffed up.)

“You… Guys know each other?”

“Mhm.” Said like it was the obvious thing ever.

“Hmph.” Huffed out in disgruntled acceptance.

“Our parents do.” She twirls a strand of her hair, neatly done up into a cute half-up braid around as she takes another sip of juice. “Our families tried to set up an arranged marriage with us once.”

What?

“I told ya she was trouble.” Your Satoru’s the one leaning his head on your shoulder, hugging you tightly to him as he glares at the intruder that dared to try to steal his precious friend. “Are we done? I wanna go play!”

“Wait— Is that why you hated her so much, Satoru?” Now Suguru’s the one looking almost disgusted, shocked and everything in between as he grimaces at the spoiled kid. “She didn’t even do anything. It was her parents.”

“She’s guilty by default!”

“The arrangement didn’t go through though,” Her cup clanks against the coaster upon the low table as her posture grows increasingly lax and unlike the ‘proper, elegant’ first impression people would see her as.

“Cause he kept rejecting it and I kept skipping out on our play dates.” She even couples it with a wide, dismissive open-mouthed yawn as her head meets your other free shoulder.

(You’re out of shoulders to lend to Suguru.)

“Hell would freeze over before I even considered marrying someone like him, though.” Because if she was considering marriage candidates, she would want someone more docile, gentle. Someone who actually listens to what she has to say. Someone like y—

“Yea, yea!” He’s huffing angrily as he lightly shoves her head off of you. “I don’t wanna marry someone like you either, Shoko! Blehhh!”

And you feel a tug of your arm towards her in retaliation, your body simply going limp as you just allow it to happen. “(name) and I would be a good fit, though. Maybe I’ll ask my mama to set up a marriage with her.”

Oh. You recognise that lilt in her voice, that sneaky grin on her face—

She’s teasing him. And doing very well at it.

“Haah?! Have ya gone insane, ya ugly hag?!” And it’s almost painful— With how hard he tugged you towards him.

“Maybe you’ve failed to consider how unmarry-able you are.”

“Well, (name) thinks I’m cute, you hag!”

“Cute doesn’t mean handsome.”

Left. Right. Left. Right. You’re basically being pulled and thrown about like a ragdoll by two opposing forces as your eyes spin and your head goes even more confused. The only saviour and your saving grace now is—

“Suguruuuu!!!” Your hand reaches out towards him for help— Barely heard above the yelling between your two friends as your confusion whirls even harder. Yet all you feel is Suguru’s familiar hand holding yours— Before he joins the pile of limbs on the floor, tightly hugging your free front and stealing any free hugging space from both of your suitors.

“No. Satoru got to spend all his time beside you and you haven’t played with just me in a while.” And you know him. Know your pretty friend so well that you can almost exactly decipher what he meant.

‘I’m jealous. So this is your punishment.’

At least you all get along now, right?

——

“Another bowl please.” Your Pokemon themed bowl that your Mama found at the department store was absolutely cleared of rice, a stray grain sticking to your cheek as you grin and plead oh so cutely for seconds.

“You seem to be in a good mood today.” She chuckles as her thumb swiped at your face, her hand warm against your skin as you giggle.

“Mhm. I’m really happy today.”

“Oh? And why is that?” Her movements are slow and careful, pressing a button that made the rice cooker pop open carefully as she scoops up another paddle of rice.

“Cause I keep thinking about the movie I’m gonna watch this weekend.” The one that Satoru had been talking your ears off of as he speaks through his snacks, making Suguru click his tongue and Shoko grimace in disgust as you simply listen intently with a sparkle in your eye.

The one that you had so nervously asked for permission so that you could follow them to the theatre for as you stood before your contemplative Mama, skittishly looking up at her with a timid smile and the tooth that had finally fully grown in— An ‘adult’ tooth as everyone calls it.

“You’re growing up too fast, you know?” Her hand gently ruffles your hair as you giggle slightly, picking up your no-longer training chopsticks. You’re even using the ‘adult’ utensils too. “Soon you won’t even need me to take care of you anymore.”

“Nope!” You swallow the mouthful of rice and egg as you chew too hurriedly. “I’ll make sure to need you forever and ever, Mama.”

“Is that so?” A playful pinch to your cheek.

“Mhm.”

“And what if I grow old and wrinkly and can’t move anymore, hmm?” Her hands thread through your hair, lightly smoothing it out first before the feel of your hairbrush glides through.

(You’ve been a bit into doing your hair a lot recently. Shoko must have rubbed off on you.)

“Then I’ll buy you super cool robot legs so you won’t feel sad that you can’t walk!”

You’re already 10, after all.

(2 years until you present.)

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[ak319]

Hello, I love your writing so much, if you can do so, could you please write a Yandere!Arthur Morgan x infant daughter reader where he's a papa bear to her, and he finds out she's being bullied by other kids in school. Ofc familial /platonic please

Thank you and hope you have a great day!

AN: moi heart AGH! Cute!! Tsym btw! (^///^) Warnings/MDNI: None, jus' fluff fluff nd' fluff! A little angst, bullying +++ Arthur is 30, Modern AU🍼 tag list: @nayykura @shackspossum @whalecage

Arthur's ears perked at the sound of your soft burp, a tiny noise that brought a tired but satisfied smile to his face. Finally. One of the trickiest tasks, but one he wouldn’t trade for the world. He adjusted his grip on you, gently patting your small back, his broad hand covering you almost entirely. Rocking in his old chair, the rhythmic creak matching his soft coos and steady breathing, he lulled you into a peaceful slumber, and before long, he drifted off too.

After a long, grueling day this was what grounded him. You were his balm, his anchor, the only thing keeping him steady after everything he’d been through. Holding you brought him a peace he never thought he’d feel again.

Stirring awake, he carefully laid you on the bed, making sure to stack pillows securely on the empty side. Then he stretched out beside you, his rugged face softening as he traced the curve of your cheek with a rough, calloused finger. He couldn’t resist placing featherlight kisses on your tiny forehead and rosy cheeks, his heart swelling with a love so fierce and pure it almost hurt

He couldn’t be more grateful for your presence. Just you, him, and this quiet farmhouse nestled in a peaceful community. The same family farmhouse he had nearly sold, back when everything seemed simpler, before life turned upside down.

Then he almost lost it all. Your mother, his wife (M/N), taken from him in a senseless tragedy during his time as a cop. The memory still felt like a jagged wound, one that would never fully heal. By some miracle, you had been spared, untouched by the violence that claimed her. God knows what he would have done if… if something had happened to you too. The thought alone twisted his stomach into knots. He knew he wouldn’t have survived it, he would’ve lost himself entirely.

So, he made a choice. He left it all behind after ensuring the culprits got caught and sentenced. The city, the job, the chaos. He packed up what was left of his life and came here, to the farm. Away from those dangerous, vengeful people who had shattered his family.

He wasn’t alone in the transition. His childhood best friend, John, stood by his side, helping him find his footing in this new chapter. With John’s support, he rebuilt, trading badges and bullets for the quiet rhythm of rural life. Now, he works from home as a graphic designer, balancing his new career with the role that means the most to him: being your father.

The move to the farmhouse was no easy feat, but Arthur didn’t care about the logistics, his top priority was you. Arthur let only Abigail watch over you while he handled the chaos of packing and unpacking. He didn’t trust babysitters, no way in hell. He’d heard enough horror stories from folks and read about things in the news that made his blood boil. The idea of leaving you with a stranger wasn’t just uncomfortable, it was unthinkable.

The only person he trusted was Abigail. “You’re family, and you’ve got Jack, so you know how it is,” he’d said when asking her to keep an eye on you. His version of breathing was checking in every ten minutes, asking Abigail if you’d eaten, slept, or cried. Even when he knew you were safe, his mind wouldn’t rest until he saw you again.

The farm itself had seen its fair share of upgrades, some subtle, others impossible to miss. The once-simple property now stood fortified with long, reinforced fences and modern electric security gates. The kind designed to deliver a harmless but sharp jolt to anything attempting to breach them, ensuring no unwelcome visitors, human or otherwise, made it in.

Security cameras were mounted everywhere, their lenses scanning every corner of the property without missing a spot. Arthur had spent weeks installing them, triple-checking blind spots until there were none.

And for those thinking of trying their luck? Booby traps, carefully concealed and strategically placed, added an extra layer of insurance. He hadn’t been sure at first, was that going too far?--but the idea of anyone getting past his defenses to threaten you erased any hesitation.

Inside, the house was an entirely different kind of fortress. Childproofing was everywhere, every sharp corner was padded, and cabinets latched tight.

Then there was the basement. What was once a dusty, forgotten space had been transformed into a stockpile, his grandfather’s old cavalry arsenal, now fully restocked and meticulously maintained. The weapons had been relics from a long-forgotten outlaw era, but Arthur saw them as a necessity. A last resort. If anyone dared to cross that line, they’d find out the hard way what kind of man they were dealing with.

Because nothing, nothing, was more important than keeping you safe.

❀˖°

“Hey--no, no-" Arthur picked you up, his glare faltering under the effort to stay stern. “You don’t claw or brawl with Pa’ on this matter, miss.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, though the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement as your legs thrashed in the air. 'Aren't you a tiny feral adorable kid---no be strict , Arthur-'

' “You, ma’am, are going in the tub-”

“WAIT! I’ll go myself!” you blurted, words tumbling out so fast they were practically gibberish. But Arthur, seasoned in the art of decoding your toddler babble, understood every syllable.

“Fine,” he huffed, setting you back down and straightening up with his hands on his hips. He gave you a look that screamed, I’m watching you.

Your eyes darted everywhere but to him. “Um-kay!,” you muttered with exaggerated determination, shuffling your feet as if preparing for the world’s longest journey.

“1,” you started.

“2…”

“um..4? 3-”

“You ain’t counting to ten for the tenth time, young lady. That’s it.” Before you could stage another dramatic delay, he swooped you up mid-mock-Olympian stance and plopped you straight into the tub.

“NOOOOOOO! NOT FAIR! you wailed, your indignation echoing off the bathroom walls.

“Nothing’s fair in baths and bedtimes,” he said with a grin, rolling up his sleeves. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, Bunny.”

❀˖°

Arthur set the plates and a steaming dish of soup and garlic bread on the table, his ears perking up as your voice carried in through the open window, accompanied by Mouse’s sharp barks. His German shepherd was stationed outside, a necessity for security, Arthur didn’t trust Mouse’s temperament indoors, and keeping the dog outside served as both a deterrent and a watchful guardian.

He glanced out and spotted you with a ball, your tiny frame dwarfed by the expanse of the yard. His jaw tightened. What’d I say about being out at this hour?

He stalked to the lawn without hesitation, his boots crunching against the gravel. He scooped you up without warning, setting you on his hip like you weighed nothing.

“When it’s near dusk, you are to be inside, you get inside without me needing to remind and call you every time,” he said, his voice firm, though not unkind. “Why do I always have to repeat myself?”

“I was gonna come, Pa’!” you protested, squirming slightly. Jeez, he needs to loosen up sometimes.

Arthur stopped, fixing you with a look that left no room for argument. “Some things I say are meant to be words on stone, you hear me? No arguing, Bug.”

He set you down gently but guided you firmly toward the house, casting one last glance at the fence and Mouse, whose ears twitched as if sensing Arthur’s unease.

❀˖°

The early morning mist still clung to the fields as Arthur loaded up the old truck, a fishing pole in the back, tackle box rattling as he slid it into place. The air was crisp, the scent of pine and fresh earth mingling with the faint smell of dew on the grass. You sat in the passenger seat, your legs swinging with excitement as you clutched your little fishing hat, a hand-me-down from Arthur that was still a bit too big for your head.

The drive to the lake was peaceful, the old truck rumbling along the dirt road as the first rays of sunlight broke through the trees. The lake, just a short distance from the farm, was quiet this time of morning, still and calm, with only the occasional ripple as the wind stirred the water.

Arthur parked the truck by the shore and hopped out, stretching his arms over his head. He opened the back, grabbing your tiny fishing rod first, a smaller one he had made sure to get just for you. He handed it over, his large hands carefully guiding yours to the handle.

“You know what to do, Bug?” he asked, crouching down to your level, his tone soft but serious.

You nodded, eyes gleaming with determination. “I throw it in, wait, then reel it in, Pa’!”

“Good girl,” he said, pride swelling in his chest. “But remember, patience is key. The fish don’t always bite right away.”

You gave him a mock serious look, puffing out your chest. “I can be patient.”

Arthur smiled and ruffled your hair before picking up his own rod. Together, you both walked to the edge of the water, the soft crunch of grass underfoot. He demonstrated how to cast his line, showing you the way to swing the rod before releasing it into the water. You watched carefully, eyes focused on the movement, and then it was your turn.

Arthur stood behind you, guiding your hands as you swung the rod and released the line, the soft splash of it hitting the water echoing in the quiet morning. You let out a little cheer, stepping back to wait.

“Good job, Bug. Now we wait.”

You sat down on the grassy shore, your legs dangling, and Arthur followed suit, sitting close enough that he could keep an eye on you but still giving you the space to enjoy the moment. The world seemed so still here, only the sounds of the water lapping gently at the shore and the occasional bird call filling the air.

Minutes passed. Arthur cast his line again, his concentration on the ripples in the water, but he always kept an ear out for you. You were so quiet, so focused on the task at hand, that he couldn’t help but smile.

“Pa’?” you asked after a while, your voice soft but curious.

“Yeah, Bug?”

“Can we do this every month!?”

Arthur’s heart skipped a beat. He turned to look at you, his chest tight with love. “Of course, Bug. We’ll always fish together, whenever you want.”

You beamed, your little fingers still wrapped around the fishing rod, staring out at the lake with a peaceful contentment that mirrored his own.

And then, as if on cue, there was a tug on the line. You gasped, your eyes wide, and Arthur was there in a flash, his strong hands guiding yours as you struggled to reel it in.

“Got it, Bug! Reel it in, slow and steady. You’ve got this.”

You grinned, your little arms straining against the weight of the fish, the excitement in your eyes contagious. Arthur stood close, his hands still hovering just in case, but he could see you were doing it all on your own.

With a final pull, you brought the fish to the shore, Arthur helping you hold it up for a brief moment, both of you staring at the wriggling catch.

“We did it!” you cheered, jumping up and down with excitement.

Arthur laughed, lifting you up into his arms. “You did it, Bug. You caught the first one. I’m proud of you.”

You giggled, your face flushed with happiness. “We’re gonna have fish for lunch! YAY!👹 "

Arthur laughed, holding you close. “Yeah, we will. And we’re gonna have a lot more days just like this.”

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, you both spent the rest of the morning fishing, the peaceful quiet of the lake wrapping around you like a blanket. Every now and then, Arthur would catch a fish of his own, but it was clear which one of you was the real star of the day.

❀˖°

One evening, as usual, Arthur sat at his desk, working on his laptop, the soft glow of the screen illuminating his focused face. You were sitting nearby, playing quietly, but after a moment, you turned to him, your small brow furrowed in thought.

“Pa,” you asked, your voice soft but filled with curiosity, “why don’t I have a mommy like Jack? Like the ones on T. V. ?”

Arthur’s heart skipped a beat. He had been waiting for this question, dreading it, but he knew it was time to answer. He paused for a moment, setting his laptop aside, and turned to face you, his expression gentle.

“Well, Bug,” he started, his voice warm and tender, “you know how some kids have two parents, right? They’re like a big team, helpin' each other out. But you,” he said with a wink, “you’re extra special. Sometimes, God decides one parent is all a kid needs. Just one, but that one’s enough to love ‘em, protect ‘em, and make sure they’re always happy.”

He leaned down to your level, his hands resting gently on your shoulders. “And that’s you, sweetheart. You got me, and I got you. We’re a team too, just the two of us.”

You blinked, absorbing his words, and a small smile tugged at your lips. Arthur ruffled your hair affectionately, the worry in his chest easing as he saw you begin to understand.

“Some kids might need a bigger team, but not you. You’re my girl, and I’m all you need, ain’t that right?”

You nodded slowly, your eyes lighting up with trust and love. Arthur smiled, his heart full. “You don’t need a mommy to be loved, Bug. You’ve got all the love you could ever need, right here with me.”

He pulled you into a tight hug, feeling your little arms wrap around him. “And I’m gonna love you forever, no matter what.”

❀˖°

Arthur couldn't believe how quickly time had passed. One moment, it seemed like you were still a tiny thing, curled up in his arms, and now, the time had come to enroll you in school. He didn't want to let you go. He'd kept you close, always close, and the thought of someone else seeing you, taking care of you, made a cold knot form in his stomach. But he knew John was right. You needed to make friends. You needed to grow.

"Y/N needs to learn how to be around other kids, Arthur," John had said, his voice filled with that well-meaning confidence. "Jack goes to the same school too, so it'll be fine. It's just school. Let her have a chance."

Arthur had reluctantly agreed. He trusted John, mostly, and if Jack was there, well... that was a bit of relief. Still, the idea of you being away from him, surrounded by others, made his chest tighten. He was used to keeping you safe, keeping you all to himself. The thought of someone else influencing you, teaching you things....but he would do this for you.

And so, with his heart heavy but his determination set, Arthur had filled out the papers and enrolled you in school. He kept telling himself it was for your own good, that it would help you grow, make you more confident. Even if it was hard to admit, you were growing up, and he had to let you experience the world outside the walls of their home.

But Arthur knew something else, too. You were shy. You didn't like being around other people, especially strangers. He'd always been there to protect you, to shield you from the world outside. But now, the world would be coming to you.

As he walked you to school for the first time, his hand lingering a little too long on your shoulder, he whispered softly, "You stick close to brother Jack, alright? If you need any help, you go to him. You don’t need anyone else. Just him, just me, and you. No one else matters."

You gave him a shy nod, looking up at him with those wide eyes that always seemed to need reassurance. Arthur smiled down at you, brushing a lock of hair from your face, his fingers lingering just a moment too long.

"Good girl. And don’t let anyone take advantage of you.”

❀˖°

“You eat your lunch today?” Arthur asked, his tone casual but observant, as you stood in front of him with your hands tucked behind your back.

You nodded quickly, avoiding his gaze. “Uh-huh!”

Arthur opened the lunchbox, finding it spotless inside, not a crumb left. For a moment, he felt a spark of pride, was he really lucky enough to have a kid who finished her lunch every single day? But then, something about your overly innocent expression made him pause. He set the lunchbox down and folded his arms, tilting his head.

“So,” he said, setting the lunchbox down and crossing his arms, “how was it?”

“Hmm?” You glanced up at him.

“The sandwich,” he said, watching your reaction closely. “Was it good?”

“Oh, yeah!” you said too brightly. “Really yummy.”

Arthur tilted his head, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “What did I make again? Just slipped my mind.”

“Uh… peanut butter and jam?” you mumbled.

Arthur’s jaw tightened, though his expression stayed calm. He crouched down to your level, his presence steady and unyielding. “You sure about that, darlin’? Because I know I packed you a chicken and cheese sandwich this mornin’.”

You froze, the color draining from your face.

He sighed, shaking his head lightly. “Now, you and I both know you didn’t eat that sandwich. So why don’t you go on and tell me what really happened?”

You looked down at your shoes, your voice trembling. “I… I was going to eat it, but some kids… they took it.”

Arthur’s heart sank, though his expression remained calm for your sake. He reached out and gently lifted your chin so you had to meet his eyes. “They took it?”

You nodded, biting your lip as tears threatened to spill. “I told them to stop, but… but they wouldn’t give it back. They laughed and said it wasn’t m-ine anymore.”

Arthur’s jaw clenched a flicker of something dark flashing in his eyes. He pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “Bug,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, “you listen to me. No one, and I mean no one, gets to treat you like that. You understand?”

You sniffled, nodding against his shoulder.

“They got names, these kids?” he asked, his voice soft but edged with a steel promise that this wasn’t going to be ignored.

You hesitated, your gaze dropping to the floor. Then, in a barely audible whisper, you murmured a few names.

Arthur nodded, his jaw tightening. “Alright. I’ll deal with ‘em. You ain’t gotta worry about that anymore.”

As he reached out to hold your hand, his fingers brushed against a faint redness across your skin. He stilled, his brow furrowing. “What’s this?”

You instinctively tried to pull your hand away, but Arthur held it gently, his thumb brushing over the red mark. “Bug,” he said, his tone dropping to that low, firm register that always made you listen. “Who did this to you?”

Tears welled in your eyes as you sniffled. “It... it was the teacher,” you admitted, your voice trembling.

Arthur blinked, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. “The teacher?” he repeated, his tone deceptively calm, though you could feel the storm brewing beneath it.

“I told her about the kids taking my lunch,” you explained, your words coming in halting gasps. “She... she said I was tattling and hit me with a ruler for ‘causing trouble.’”

Arthur’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, but only for a moment.

Arthur stood so abruptly that his chair scraped loudly against the floor. “Get your shoes on, Bug. We’re going to the school.”

“But-”

"No buts. No one lays a hand on my girl, now c'mon, Pa’s got somethin’ he needs to take care of."

The sound of Arthur’s boots echoed ominously in the otherwise quiet hallway as he strode toward the principal’s office, his expression carved from stone. His hand hovered protectively over your shoulder as he guided you along.

The principal looked up as Arthur entered, his usual composure faltering at the sight of the respectable ex-cop's stormy glare.

“Mr. Morgan,” the principal began, forcing a tight smile, “is there-”

Arthur didn’t wait for pleasantries. “There a reason my daughter came home with a red welt on her hand?” he demanded, his voice low but seething.

The principal blinked, momentarily caught off guard “I--I’m not sure what you mean-”

“She told me her teacher hit her,” Arthur interrupted, his words sharp enough to cut. “With a ruler. After she reported kids stealin’ her lunch. That’s what I mean.”

“Well, if a teacher disciplined her, I’m sure-”

Arthur stepped forward, leaning over the desk, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl. “You think layin’ a hand on my girl is ‘discipline’? You call ignorin’ the bullies and punishin’ the victim a job well done?

“We have rules about-”

Arthur leaned forward, his presence towering even as he kept his voice level. “You got rules about discipline, huh? How about rules about protectin’ kids?! Or do you only enforce the ones that let you blame the victim!?”

“Mr. Morgan, I understand you’re upset-”

“Upset doesn’t cover it,” Arthur snapped, his voice rising slightly. “My girl’s been comin’ home hungry because you let bullies run wild. And now she’s got a bruise on her arm because she finally got tired of takin’ it? You think that’s how you run a school? By punishin’ the one kid who’s just tryin’ to eat her damn lunch in peace? Because if that’s how you run this place, we got a bigger problem than I thought.”

The principal held up his hands, visibly nervous. “I assure you, Mr. Morgan, we take such incidents seriously. I’ll speak to the teacher and-”

“No, you’ll do more than SPEAK!" Arthur took a deep breath, steadying himself. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, you’ll make sure she’s held accountable. And while you’re at it, you’ll deal with those bullies, too. My daughter’s been hungry three times this week because of them, and now she’s got a mark on her hand for speakin’ up?! That ends today.”

“Of course, of course,” the principal stammered. “I’ll handle it immediately.”

Arthur straightened, his gaze never wavering. “You’d better. You’re gonna deal with those bullies and that damned teacher, properly. And you’re gonna make damn sure no one here ever lays a hand on my daughter again. Otherwise, I’ll be takin’ this to the school board, the police, and anyone else who’ll listen. You got no idea what I can do. You got me? You’ll be answerin’ to me."

He turned, placing a reassuring hand on your back as he guided you out of the office. As soon as you were outside, he crouched down and looked you in the eye.

“You did the right thing, Bug,” he said softly. “And I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself. But you leave dealin’ with grown-ups to me, alright? Nobody’s gonna hurt you again.”

You nodded, wiping your eyes as he pulled you into a hug.

“Now, let’s go home,” he said, ruffling your hair. “We’ll make somethin’ good for dinner and figure out how to make sure this never happens again.

❀˖°

“So... no school?” you asked hesitantly, peering up at him with wide, uncertain eyes.

Arthur leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed, and sighed. “No, Bug. You’re still gonna study--but at home, alright?”

He could already hear John’s voice nagging in his head, telling him he was being too overprotective, that keeping you out of school might isolate you further. But Arthur dismissed it. You were still so young, still figuring out the world, and he decided what was best for you. Nobody else.

“Don’t you worry about a thing,” he said firmly, his voice softening as he brushed a hand over your hair. “Ain’t no way I’m lettin’ you go back there to get hurt again. Not by kids who don’t know how to act, not by some teacher who should’ve never had a classroom in the first place. You’re my responsibility, and I ain’t lettin’ anybody mess with you like that. Ever again.”

You nodded slowly, relaxing into the bed. His words felt like a shield wrapping around you, and you trusted him entirely.

Arthur watched you settle, his jaw tightening slightly as anger simmered beneath his calm exterior. He’d been right on the edge of losing it, of storming over to those kids’ homes and making their parents pay the price and make them understand what it meant to raise decent human beings. And that teacher? Though fired, it still didn’t sit right with him. The thought of her laying a hand on you made his blood boil. It had taken every cell to control to not blow her brains out.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus on you instead of the anger that threatened to bubble over. “I’ll teach you myself,” he said, his tone lighter now as he tried to make you smile. “We don’t need teachers like that, anyway. I’ll make sure you learn plenty, and we’ll even have fun doin’ it.”

“Really?” you asked, your voice small but hopeful.

“Really,” he said, tugging the blanket up around you and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Now, you get some rest, Bug. We’ll figure out all the details in the mornin’.”

❀˖°

After finishing up the dishes and double checking all the doors, Arthur made his way back to your room. He found you sitting at your small desk, scribbling on a piece of paper with intense concentration.

"What’re you workin’ on, Bug?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

You looked up, a hint of shyness in your eyes. "A thank-you card," you said quietly.

Arthur’s brow furrowed. "For who?"

"For you." You held up the paper, a drawing of you and him making a cake. Above it, in your wobbly handwriting, it read: "Thank you for being my Pa."

Arthur froze, his chest tightening at the sight. He stepped closer, kneeling beside you to get a better look. "Well, I’ll be..." he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. "That’s real nice, darlin’. Prettiest thing I’ve seen all day."

You smiled, a little bashful but proud. "You always take care of me. So, I wanted to make something for you too."

Arthur reached out and gently pulled you into his arms, holding you close. "You don’t ever have to thank me for that, sweetheart. Lookin’ after you? That’s the best thing I’ll ever do."

You nuzzled into his chest, your small arms wrapping around his neck. "Still. Love you, Pa."

"I love you more, Bug. Always and forever."

[coeurify]

unwind | ellie williams

ellie williams x reader. tlou2 semi-canon universe. jackson based. 1.3k words.

ellie hates being doted over. but she loves you more.

this is a totally self indulgent fluff filled drabble about playing with ellies hair. i just love her and wanna take care of her ok? no warnings beside nondescript mentions of violence.

Ellie hated being taken care of, hated being doted over. This was something you knew all too well, having been stuck to her hip for years now in the small town of Jackson. It was easy to fall into a relationship with Ellie, her energy had drawn you in all that time ago, with bad flirting and sarcastic jokes. It worked on you, embarrassingly so. Since then you put up with every one of her awful puns and loud mouth that often got her in trouble.

You also put up with this disdain she had for being helped. It only got worse over the years, and now as you both entered your twenties, it had become regular. You dealt with the constant shoo-ing off of food you offered her on a supply run. Shrugged off her chipped attitude whenever she got hurt and refused to let you patch her up, always claiming that ‘she had it under control’. She would get embarrassed and flush whenever you did something sweet for her like setting out clothes to wear on patrol, or picking up little supplies you think she may need when you wandered around. She would insist you didn’t have to do it— scratching the back of her neck awkwardly at the thought of you caring for her.

This dynamic fell into the physical side of your relationship too. She was the one who wrapped her arm around you. She was the one who placed kisses to your cheek out in public. It was Ellie who called you baby around friends and introduced you to people. She was the one who rubbed your shoulders after a long day, always patting you away when you tried to reciprocate. So damn stubborn. It was hard enough to place kisses on her cheek without her groaning and covering the blush up with a dirty joke about taking it further. Once you had kissed her in the street after calling her pretty.. and jesus you don't think you had ever seen her get so flustered— her nose screwing up as she swatted you away. You let most of these things slide, not needing her to say that she enjoyed it.

Because there were small, unspoken things that made up for it. They didn’t come often, and Ellie didn’t like to talk about it after.. but if it was working toward a path of the emotionally stubborn girl you loved so much healing.. you would take it. Sometimes it would be things like letting you wipe grime off of her face after a day of work. She would sit quietly as you take a warm washcloth to her face and neck. Other times it was allowing you to play with her shaking fingers in your lap after a particularly bad fight against infected. But your favorite, and one that was becoming much more regular, was her letting you play with her hair.

It started with letting you tie her hair up before patrol— it had been a struggle to get her to agree to. But when she did you both sat quietly and comfortably, twisting little pieces of her hair up to stay out of her face on the windy horse ride. You had watched her eyes flutter close, always tense shoulders relax.. and you knew you had to do it again.

Soon after that she let you wash her hair in the shower, hands shampooing and rinsing her hair. She of course didn’t say anything about it after, quickly changing the topic to something about the moon that night.

Before long, whenever she had a hard day she would come to you silently, clearing her throat and not meeting your eyes as she stiffly laid on the bed or couch and pushed her hair behind her ear. It was a sign you took in very quickly, and fell easily into running your fingers through her auburn locks. It happened maybe once a week, and you never pushed too hard to chat about it. Ellie had enough stress on her.

Today seemed to be one of those days, your girlfriend creeping into the house you shared after the sun had gone down.

You were perched on the couch of the living room, nose tucked into a book as a set of candles lit the room. When she came in and stood at the door, slowly removing her jacket and hanging it on the makeshift coat hanger, you could already tell she was tired.

The way she took a while to pull her converse off, dragging her feet across the hallway, the way you could see her jaw moving to stiffle a yawn. She was exhausted. But Ellie wouldn’t tell you that.

You tread carefully, making sure she has no visible injuries. “Hey Els,” you greet softly— watching her green eyes blink sleepily.

“Hi baby..” she replies, rubbing a dirty hand over her stained cheek. You don’t want to ask if it’s blood or dirt.. let alone who’s or what’s. Biting your lip as she disappears into the kitchen, you listen to the sounds of her dipping a cloth into water.

When Ellie returns a moment later, her face and hands are mostly clean. It highlights the gash on her cheek and her bruised knuckles that she curls into nervous balls. You can see her eyes shift around for a second, feet bouncing ever so slightly. She’s trying to decide what to do next, and you give her all the time she needs.

The auburn haired girl seems to decide finally after a second, walking slowly toward where you sit on the couch. Her hand reaches to pull out the tie holding half of her hair up, and she drops to sit on the carpet under the couch— her back pressed to the edge.

You shuffle immediately, letting her settle between your legs and setting your book down as you reach forward without a word, nails scraping over her scalp. Ellie makes a noise of approval, and you work on gently combing through the knots with your fingers.

It’s silent for a while, and you can feel the nervous tension radiating off of your girlfriend. She isn’t used to this still. It still made her wildly uncomfortable to not do everything on her own. But she needed this right now.

Trying to break the tension, and let her know you wouldn’t bring up the current situation of you two, you start a small conversation. “How was Jesse? You went with him on the trails today, right?” You ask as you brush a few more messy strands behind her ears. The knots are gone now, so you focus more on just running your nails through her hair, no clear action other than comforting her.

Ellie tilts her head back slightly so you can get the small pieces up front, her green eyes closing softly. “Yea, yea he was good. It was a long day,” she mumbled.

You don’t push her to explain, instead finding another little tangle to fix near the nape of her neck.

After another beat of silence, Ellie speaks again. “I found another one of those superhero trading cards, in a house..”

You smile softly, ready to let her ramble about whatever character she had found, like she always does. Usually it's in bed, when sleep won't grace her and she decides you have to be awake too, poking your cheek until you give in to her stories. You like this time much better, hand massaging her scalp lightly. “Yea? Who?”

“Seismicayla,” she begins— the tension in her voice and body wearing away as her mind focuses on the card again, licking over her lips as her mind straightens out the character’s story.

“She- she’s got these shockwave powers, like.. babe she’s so fuckin’ cool..”

You nod along as she continues, fingers still working through her hair. She explains in detail everything about the girl, and you listen intently.

It wasn’t often you got to take care of Ellie, but god did you love it.

[dekariosclan]

I really love your version of Tav's acquaintance with Marina. And is it possible to hear about their relationship when Tav is already married to Gale (both for illithid and ordinary Tav)

Ps: personally, I have an idea that if Gale goes to visit his mother without Tav, since he can't, then Gale says that he will discuss his research with his mother. And as a result, he tells his mother for several hours about how wonderful Tav is and how Gail is now happily married. Marina listens to everything and nods approvingly)

Thank you more for your hard work💜

Oh, thank you for the lovely ask!!

Since we never get the pleasure of meeting Morena in-person, here’s what we know about her from Gale and Tara’s discussions:

Loves Gale and above all wants him to be happy

Doesn’t seem to care much about ‘social traditions’ or what people think—for example, doesn’t care that Gale chose to drop ‘Dekarios’ and change to using ‘Gale of Waterdeep’

Delighted with Gale being married

An excellent cook and makes a delicious batch of Hundur sauce

Outspoken/does not tolerate nonsense (her personality ‘packs quite a wallop’ per Gale)

Takes things in stride/not easily shocked (her son previously being with a Goddess, the fact that regularly she has Withers join her and Tara for tea, etc.)

Loves Waterdeep

Is adored by Tara, thus proving that she has a good heart just like Gale

Given all of that, I’m confident that Morena is a fabulous mother-in-law, whether Tav is sporting tentacles or not.

Ordinary Tav

The fact that Morena can see how happy Gale is means that Tav will never be anything but loved. You think Gale adores his spouse? Morena is a VERY close second, especially when it comes to singing Tav’s praises. Sometimes to such an extreme that even Gale himself finds it excessive! Especially regarding his past relationship with Mystra and how much better Tav is for Gale.

It is my personal belief that Morena was never comfortable with Gale’s pairing with Mystra, much less with it turning romantic, but that she tolerated it and refrained from commenting because by that time her son was an adult and claimed he was happy.

Now, though? Her laced gloves are off.

A typical conversation during one of their visits would be as follows:

Morena: *squeezing Tav’s hand* My son is looking so contented and happy, my dear! I cannot tell you how much it warms my heart to see it!

Gale: *smiling adoringly at Tav* Guilty, as charged.

Morena: There’s such a change in him from his past relationship with that utter—well—I shan’t say the word in polite company.

Gale: *looking slightly alarmed* Mother—

Morena: Of course, that temptress used all of her wiles to entrap him. Physical, incorporeal, magical. But I must say, Goddess or not, I always found her to be rather tacky! I don’t understand why my son was filled with such base desires for her!

Gale: MOTHER—

Morena: *patting Tav’s hand* Oh, but worry not my dear! the way Gale looks at you is BEYOND how he ever looked at her. Do you remember the last time you visited, and you helped carry several boxes of his books from the attic? All that exertion and physical work! Why, by the end of it he looked like he wanted to eat you for sup—

Gale: I BEG THAT WE CHANGE THE SUBJECT

You get the idea.

Morena treats Tav with all the kindness in the world, and does it happily; she will never forget that Tav quite literally saved her son’s life. She enjoys making Tav’s favorite dishes whenever they visit (which Gale proudly informs her of). And she especially enjoys telling Tav stories of Gale’s adventures and magical hijinks as a child, seeing how much Tav adores hearing about them (and sometimes, depending on the story, much to Gale’s chagrin.)

Illithid Tav

This one is easy: Morena’s relationship with Illithid Tav is exactly the same as described above for Ordinary Tav, no difference at all, save for ONE area that I shall describe shortly. Morena is just like Gale, in that her treatment of Illithid Tav is no different than if Tav were not sporting tentacles. All that matters is that her son is loved and happy. If it’s an Ilithid that can give her son the love he deserves, something that he has not been given from any of his past mortal lovers OR his past immortal lover, then so be it.

The only difference is that Morena is MUCH more protective of her Illithid family member and much more sensitive to what others think, if only to be ready to give them a piece of her mind if they dare to insult Tav in any way.

And if Gale AND Morena are in the vicinity when their beloved Tav is insulted?

Quite the spectacle. Numerous “How DARE you’s,” “What an INEXCUSABLE lack of decorum,” “I have half a mind to conjure a fireball and bake some manners into you,” (<- Gale only), etc.

Finally, if and when there are occasions where Gale visits Morena alone and Tav is unable to join, you are absolutely correct in that the discourse will inevitably end up being praise of Tav. And even Tara will throw in a compliment or two, given that Tav has taken to bringing her a treat of Beholder jerky or pigeon meat whenever they visit 💜

[heartpiratedrabbles]

Burning Desires

Prompt: Sabo is pent up and dealing with new powers after coming back from another long mission.

Sabo X Fem Reader

It had been about 3 months since the last time you saw your boyfriend. He had left on a ‘secret’ mission claiming he couldn’t inform you of anything only for Dragon to reveal to you that he was sent to Dressrosa to investigate weapon smuggling. Sabo often forgot or chose to ignore the fact that you were also a part of the revolutionary army and would rather you stay away from dangerous situations.

        Despite all that, you, yourself had just gotten back from your own mission from investigating an island providing slaves to the celestial dragons. You had went undercover with a few other people, going as far as being sold yourself, but at the end of the day you destroyed the underground auction and were now exhausted.

        There was an understanding when you or Sabo went undercover that neither people would contact the other until the coast was completely clear, and you were hoping that when you got back, that you’d be able to contact him. But when you arrived there wasn’t any update on when he’d be back.

        So, imagine your surprise when you hear that Luffy miraculously in the same kingdom that as Sabo. The brother he had forgotten about and remembered only when his other one was executed. You read the article on how Doflamingo was defeated and the new bounty on his brother’s head. There is no way Sabo would have heard of Luffy’s whereabouts and not taken the opportunity to see his brother again.

        This most likely meant more paperwork for everyone down the line and more work, but nonetheless you smiled at the thought of your boyfriend finally healing his wounded heart a bit. Sighing, you put the newspapers down, wondering when he’d take the time to contact again.

~~~

        You got an update from Dragon that Sabo had eaten a devil fruit. You didn’t ask many questions, when prompted about it in the past Sabo said he’d be interested if the power felt right. You wondered what the power itself was but thought the surprise of when he comes back would be better. You had read at points that some devil fruits changed the person a bit, them having to get use to the new powers and how their own bodies worked, it’d made sense.

You’re more concerned on how Sabo would have to be more careful around water, he was often the one to jump in after others without a second thought. Koala was with him right now so he shouldn’t be too reckless, but the thought still made your heart skip a beat at the implications.

As you sit at your desk finalizing a report you can hear a small commotion in the hall. Someone probably playing another prank, you think as you look back down at your paper. As you sign your name you jump at the sound of your door being slammed open, enough so that it starts to swing back. Startled you look up to see your boyfriend, with small flames littering his body.

“Sabo?!” You stand up rushing to him to try and put him out, “What happened to you?” As you pat his shoulders quickly the flames seem to only get bigger, their heat slowly growing as well. You realize Sabo isn’t talking you, making you all the more concerned.

As quickly as you had stood up to help him, He pushed you back, kicking the door shut as he saunters to you. “Sabo? What’s wrong?” You look up to see the flames flicker more, “Is. Is that your devil fruit Sabo? Why didn’t you say anything?” You look up at Sabo, his eyes dark and staring at you, as though trying to decide to what to do. You cautiously and slowly wrap your arms around his neck, “Babe? Can you please talk to me?” You inch closer staring up at him with concerned eyes.

“Hot,” Is all he says as he wraps his arms around your waist and kisses you. You deepen the kiss, pulling his closer as you reach one hand up to grab his hat, gently place it to the side before returning your hand to his hair.

He pulls away while gasping for air, “Is that all you have to say to me?” You giggle, “Of course your hot Bo, you’re practically dressed for winter…” You trail your sentence off before slowly pushing his jacket off his shoulders. You see a small spark in his eyes before steals your lips again.

“Missed you. So much,” He mutters in between kisses. You feel a slight heat trickling down your back before it expands. You gasp a bit, trying to arch your back away from the sudden feeling, “Don’t worry” Sabo whispers as you feel him rip your shirt off and toss it to the ground. You glance at the floor seeing your singed shirt, your face getting red.

You tug at Sabo’s shirt and he quickly discards it. Coming back to you he nips at your collarbone, hard enough until he hears you moan. “God, Y/N, I need you,” Sabo groans as he grips your hips tightly. You can feel light flames brush against you as a hand wanders to your breast, squeezing it tightly.

You tug at his hair as he sucks at your neck, “Sabo, please.” You buck your hips towards him and feel him groan into your skin. Just as you reach down to unclip your bra, your office door swings open again.

“Sabo, don’t think you can get out of your work by-“ Koala stops in the doorway looking at the scene in front of her. You make eye contact with her as you quickly wrap your arms around yourself, lightly pushing Sabo away in the process.

Koala seems to be frozen in place as you cower in embarrassment. You see flames sprout from your boyfriend before simmering down with a sigh, picking up his jacket and covering you with it. “I’m sorry babe,” He says leaning down for a gentle, longing kiss. He pulls away, “I promise tonight will be fun.” He winks at you as he smiles and turns away, grabbing his hat.

“Sabo, you forgot your shirt,” Koala says while trying to avoid eye contact with both you and Sabo, stepping aside.

“To hot anyway,” He mutters as he places his hat on his head walking out.