#even i taught it's his birthday today

[strang3lov3]

Clean

Joel makes a mess on you, then keeps you in the bathtub until the water goes cold. (3k)

Tags - dark!joel, one shot, smut, fingering, come shot, manspreading, masturbation, overstimulation, forced orgasms, dubconnnnnn, daddy kink, innocence kink, inexperienced reader, biiiig girthy yet unspecified age gap, weird feelings and some good ol' fashioned shame, hitting, Joel is fatherly in a hot and disgusting way, calls himself 'your old man', gratuitous use of the nickname 'kiddo'. Say the affirmation with me: The ickier it is, the harder I nut.#bushnation, MORE DEPECHE MODE REFERENCES. TRY AND STOP ME. Like car sex, I write bathtub sex uniquely in that I’m not bound by bullshit ass physics or logic so yes, both people fit in the tub and everything is fine. Reader is bathed by Joel, her hair is washed and finger-combed by him too, but length and texture are not described. This was a decroded fic for me to make i can't lie Fic help - @endlessthxxghts, thank you for always seeing my disgusting visions and giving me your eyeballs A/N - thank you for all the birthday wishes, dear friends in my phone! I celebrated with you all last year when I was writing Mall Rats and it’s special that a lot of you are still with me today, but some I have new friends too ❤️ I love you. Having readers like you in my corner all this time has been beyond special and so rewarding and I hope you know I mean it when I say that I love you.

You’re washing the dishes tonight, your least favorite of the chores Joel makes you do. You prefer doing laundry or plucking the weeds with him, because he lets you collect flowers and put them in vases. He even taught you how to press them between heavy books, and how to frame them nicely. 

Joel calls your name from upstairs. You quickly wash and dry your hands, then scurry up the steps. His door is closed almost all of the way, just a small sliver of light peeks from his room into the dark hallway. “Joel?”

“In here, sweetheart. Need ya for somethin’.” 

You push open the door the rest of the way, and Joel’s naked and sitting upright on the edge of his bed, cock in hand with his bare thighs spread wide. He’s grunting as he squeezes the base, the tip all flushed and swollen. “C’mere. Switch me spots.” 

You don’t yet obey his order. You’ve seen Joel’s cock before, seen him masturbate before, too. Despite that, it still makes you feel nervous to see him and be with him like this. It gives you that icky feeling in your gut and makes you breathe funny. 

“C’mon. You know it ain’t gonna bite ya, kiddo.” Joel stands up  and pats the spot on the bed. “Sit,” he says, his tone sharper than before. “Need somethin’ pretty to come on.”

 Joel doesn’t like repeating himself. You won’t make him ask a third time. 

You sit on the bed, the covers warmed and slightly damp by Joel’s body heat don’t comfort you. He stands in front of you, rock-hard cock bouncing in his loose grip. “Why don’t you give me a hand this time,” he says, reaching for your wrist. He pulls it up to waist level, then wraps your palm around his member, closing your fingers tightly. “Ohhh, fuck,” Joel groans from deep in his chest. Loudly, he breathes in and out through his nose as he twists your hand up and down his shaft. “Jus’ like this. That’s a good girl.” 

This is, however, the first time you’ve ever felt his cock. All of your firsts with Joel have never gone the way you thought they would. The first time he saw you naked, touched you, or that you saw him - it was all surreal and rather abrupt. Joel tells you things like this are always a little new and funny at first. 

His cock feels heavy in your palm. You think about the things you like about it - the warmth, all of his veins and ridges, how smooth and soft the head is. But it’s a little sticky, too, which is unexpected to you. 

“Alright, alright. S’enough,” Joel says, pulling your hand away. “Lift up your shirt.”

You lift your shirt, pushing it up your torso until it’s bunched just beneath your breasts. “Nuh-uh. Like this,” Joel murmurs, pushing the garment up above your chest, exposing yourself entirely to him. He rubs his thumb in circles over both of your nipples so that they pebble under his touch, then gropes and squeezes your flesh. “Lie back,” Joel says, pushing you down on the bed. “Attagirl.”

You watch as Joel pumps his cock above you, the end of his fist slapping against his softened belly repeatedly. He breathes heavily, and his dark eyes are wild like an animal as his gaze is fixed on your naked form. Joel breathes quicker as he approaches his release, grunting a slew of swears he doesn’t allow you to say. “Fuck, goddamn. Oh, goddamn,” he hisses as ropes of his hot come spurt onto your body. He covers you like a canvas; his favorite painting, and for his eyes only. 

Joel collects a bit of his spend up with his first two fingers. “Give it a taste,” he says. “Want you to try it.”

You open your mouth, and Joel pushes his calloused digits inside, painting your tongue with his come. “Suck,” he says, and you do. You furrow your brows at the salty, bitter flavor, how it tastes dissimilar from its scent. “Don’t like it?”

You shake your head. “I don’t think so.”

Joel chuckles, cupping your jaw and rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone. “S’okay. Y’don’t have to.” Joel yawns then, patting your cheek gently with his weathered hand. “C’mon, kiddo. Bath time. Daddy made a mess a’ ya, didn’t he?”

Joel walks you to the bathroom with him, holding your hand the whole time. He puts the little rubber stopper in the drain of the bathtub, then turns the water on. “Warmer, pl-”

“Don’t need a reminder, sweetheart. Know you like it hot. Daddy won’t let you freeze.”

“And bubbles.”

“I know, baby girl. I won’t forget your bubbles.”

As the bathtub fills, Joel opens the oak cabinet under the sink and pulls out the old bottle of bubble bath, the one he’s been refilling just for you. He pours a capful under the water, bubbles immediately building. It smells mostly of nothing, but a bit of that original bubblegum scent remains. Your image reflected in the mirror begins to blur as steam fills the bathroom, and when the tub is full, Joel shuts off the water. He helps you undress and then gets in the tub first, carefully lowering himself until he’s sat with his back against the wall. “Jesus, s’hot. Gonna turn us both into soup,” Joel laughs. You smile shyly. 

 He spreads his legs, then outstretches his arm to you. “C’mon. Hop in.” You take Joel’s hand, squeezing it while wobbling a little on your one foot as you step into the bath. “I gotcha, kiddo,” he says. 

The water is warm on your feet, nearly burning you but you enjoy the tingle. Joel helps you down, lowering you until you’re submerged in the water, your back against his warm chest, his thick package pressing against your ass. 

Joel fills an old, plastic measuring cup with the soapy bath water and brings a hand to your chin, tilting your head back so he can rinse your hair. The hot water feels soothing on your scalp, and Joel repeats the action until your hair is soaked all the way through and dripping down your back. 

You giggle at the noise the bottle of shampoo makes when Joel squirts a bit into his hand. He lathers it between his palms, then scrubs your scalp. “Eyes closed, kiddo. Don’t wanna hurt ya,” he whispers. 

Your eyes flutter shut as Joel works the soap into your hair, scrubbing your scalp all over. He alternates between scratching you gently with his dull nails, to massaging you with the tips of his fingers. He uses his thumbs to rub the base of your skull in circles, the other four fingers of each hand drawing lines up and down and all over. Once Joel’s built a thick lather, he uses the same plastic cup to rinse out the shampoo.  

He conditions your hair next, working the cream into the strands. He uses his fingers to loosely detangle, “Ow, daddy,” you complain as he tugs on a knot. 

“I know, I know. M’sorry, baby girl.” Joel presses a kiss to your forehead. “Was an’ accident. M’tryin’ to be gentle.” He rinses out the conditioner next, “Grab me that bar of soap, will ya?” he asks. 

“Mhm.” You lean forward and reach for the orangish, rectangular bar of soap in front of you on the shower niche, then grab it and hold it over your shoulder. 

Joel takes the soap, “Thank ya kindly, darlin’.”  He dips it in the soapy bathwater before lathering it between his palms that are already beginning to prune. Gently, he pushes you forward to scrub your back and your neck, then pulls you right back into himself. “Gimme an arm,” he says, a slight rasp in his voice. You raise your arm for him and he washes you with the lather, “An’ the other,” Joel adds, now washing your other arm, massaging you with his strong hands. “Here-” Joel taps your shoulder with the soap. “Your daddy’s gettin’ old,” he grumbles. “Can’t bend like he used to. Wash your legs f’me, sweetheart.” 

“Okay,” you murmur, taking the soap back from him. You lather the soap just like Joel did, then wash your legs one at a time, bending them at the knees. When done, Joel reaches over you to take the soap back. He pulls you back against his soft middle and puts his soapy hands on your torso, sliding them up and down your skin, washing off his now dried spend. He groans quietly as he washes your breasts, kneading the flesh there and circling your nipples with his slippery fingers. You feel his cock twitch against you. 

Joel washes down, down your stomach. “Spread ‘em,” he says, and you part your legs wider. Your stomach jumps when his hands rub past your pubic hair and he washes your folds, that soft, private place between your thighs. You whimper when his thumb catches your clit. 

“That feel nice, kiddo?”

Your breath hitches in your throat as you search for an answer. 

“I-”

“You can tell your old man. I know it does,” Joel coos, rubbing his thumb left and right over your clit. You lean your head back and turn your head to the side, burying yourself in his bicep as you whine. “You don’t take much at all, do ya, sweetheart?”

Joel’s made you come before. It’s one of the first things he did when he brought you home, actually. But you amaze him every time, how quickly and easily you fall apart on his fingertips. He thinks about tasting you for the first time, how sweet you’ll be on his tongue. Or his cock, down your throat or between your thighs and splitting you in two. God, you’ve so much to learn, and Joel gets to walk you through it all. His favorite innocence. 

Joel adjusts you both so that you’re sitting more upright and he can reach around you with both hands. “Rest on me,” he says, pressing the side of your head against his so that his scruff is tickling you, but not scratching you. It’s too long for that.

 Joel peers over your shoulder to watch what he’s doing, and to watch how you react. Your soft tummy rising and falling with big breaths, thighs twitching. Joel circles your clit with his middle and ring fingers, patiently working you up. “How’s that feelin’?” he asks, “Can you tell daddy?”

“Mm,” you hum, “Yeah…”

Joel chuckles, dragging the tip of his aquiline nose along the side of your face. “Use your words, baby girl,” he instructs. “Good girls use their words, hm?”

“Feels g- feels good,” you whimper, voice breaking as Joel works you. He rubs your clit faster now, and you’re rocking against his palm, splashing the water a little. 

Joel brings his other hand to your core and lines two fingers up with your entrance, slowly pushing in while he massages your clit. You wince in pain, squeezing his bicep as he pushes them in further. 

Joel hums in sympathy. Being in the bath means you’re not a slick, slippery mess like usual. “Know it hurts, kiddo, but you gotta get used to it.” Joel’s fingers are all the way inside you now, and he pulls them back out. “You’ll get used to it,” he drawls, now pumping those fingers in and out of you, slowly. “You’re bein’ so brave for me, baby girl.” 

The ache of Joel’s fingers stretching you out dissipates eventually, and he changes the action - instead of drawing his fingers in and out of your cunt, he curls them repeatedly inside of you - Joel knows you love when he does this to you. 

You moan freely, relishing in the pleasure. Joel’s right, he’s always right. You’re used to him now, and he feels so good. Swirling his fingers around your clit, stroking that sweet spot inside you with the other hand - it takes no more than five minutes until your breathing turns ragged and you feel that hot, sticky feeling in your gut, the one that feels both bad and good all at the same time. 

“Ask for it,” Joel mumbles, reminding you of your manners as he senses how close you are. “Be polite.”

“Please,” you say, “Can I come?”

“‘Course you can, sweetheart. Of course.”

The orgasm washes over you quickly. You come with a symphony of breathy moans, saccharine in nature. Joel’s never heard anything like it, and he’s grateful he has enough of his hearing left to be able to. 

With his weathered, wrinkled fingers, Joel fucks you through your climax until the last of it courses through you. You come down, but Joel doesn’t stop touching you. 

Maybe he thinks it’s not yet over. Joel keeps doing those same tight circles on your clit, and you start to squirm. “Joel–” you wrap your hands around his forearm and attempt to move him, but his strength is far too great for your efforts to mean anything at all.  

“Sit still. You’re givin’ me another one.” 

Joel keeps your back pinned tightly against his hairy chest, your legs spread wide with his hand in between them, patiently swirling his middle and ring fingers around your swollen and over-sensitive clit. Your hips are starting to ache and the sensation of Joel pleasuring you has turned uncomfortable, downright painful. 

“I wanna be done, Joel. I can’t do another one,” you whimper, voice shaking as tears well up in your eyes. There’s nowhere to run, and you know you just have to take it. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” he whispers soothingly, his ministrations on your pussy unfaltering. Joel’s holding you back. You’re not supposed to tell him no. “Know you can.”

His words serve more to frustrate you than encourage you. “I. Can’t,” you huff as you try to pull away from him and close your legs shut in the now lukewarm and soapy water, but Joel keeps you in position in his vice grip. 

“Knock it off,” he growls. Joel has to hide his amusement. You’re quick to anger, just like he is. Just like your daddy. “Jus’ relax.”

You’re close, and whether you realize it or not, Joel does. Your twitching legs, the way you’re breathing. Release is right around the corner if you’d just calm yourself down. Poor thing. You always did struggle with regulating yourself.

“Get - I told you-“ you interrupt yourself to groan, “You’re not listening to me, daddy. I said I c-can’t fucking—” you don’t finish the sentence and instead seethe in frustration, jerking and splashing bath water onto the floor. “F-”

Joel slaps your cheek, hard. “Easy,” he scolds, “I didn’t raise you to speak to me like that.” Joel his nose against the side of your head and bites your ear, the way a dog does with a pup. A warning. “An’ I don’t have to listen to you. You listen to me,” he adds. “Adjust the fuckin’ attitude and try it again before you piss me off.”

Your voice cracks as you whimper Joel’s name, a sob then escaping your chest. Your cheek stings and tingles, like you never stopped feeling the impact of Joel’s hand meeting your skin. 

“Don’t start cryin’, just breathe. Breathe. Go slow,” Joel instructs, pleased when you inhale steadily. On your exhale, Joel whispers, “You need me to talk you through it?”

You nod against him, sniffling. “Then I’ll talk you through it. Focus on my voice, focus right here, kiddo,” he tells you. “Relax, just a minute. Calm yourself.”

You rest against Joel, and he pauses his ministrations on your clit. “I can’t do it again, Joel,” you plead. “I don’t think I can.” 

“I know what you think. It don’t matter, ‘cause it ain’t up to you, sweetheart. We’re tryin’ it again.” 

Joel restarts, circling and massaging your clit with that same pressure from before. And just like before, it’s uncomfortable. It hurts, and you don’t like it. 

“Lean into it, sweetheart. Let it ride.” 

Frustrated, you shake your head. “Daddy–”

“You need to let it happen. Got all night, sweetheart. Water’s gettin’ cold.” 

“Joel.” Your voice cracks.

Joel ignores you. He pumps his fingers, focusing specifically on your g-spot as he knows how sensitive you are there. Your protests begin to quiet, replaced by soft noises of pleasure. “There it is,” Joel purrs. “Make those pretty noises for me. You’re doin’ good.” 

Pleasure begins to build, just like Joel said it would. It almost makes you mad, mad that he’s right. Always right. Mad that Joel knows your body like the back of his hand, better than you do. The stubborn part of you wants to stave off release, but a bigger part of you doesn’t wanna fight Joel on this. You don’t like to fight with him anyway. You always lose. So, you allow yourself to bask in the pleasure Joel knew you’d feel.

“You gonna come one more time? You gonna come on daddy’s fingers?”

“Yeah,” you nod. Your eyes squeeze shut as the feeling builds, almost exponentially. Your gasps and moans halt and there it is - Joel’s pulled another orgasm from your body. More powerful than before, the feeling washes over you like the tide, waves of warmth and electricity flowing over your body with each movement of Joel’s fingers. “Yeah, attagirl,” he breathes. “Manners, sweetheart. What do you say?” 

“Thank you,” you whisper, out of breath. 

Joel rinses you with the water as you come down from your second orgasm of the evening. He taps you twice on the hip, “Up,” he says, and you stand up on shaky legs. 

Joel reaches for an old, floral-patterned towel and dries himself off first, then wraps it around his waist, thick belly bulging over the edge of the fabric. He grabs another towel for you next, drying your legs and arms one at a time before wrapping the towel snugly around your shoulders. 

“You finish those dishes?” Joel asks, pulling the drain stopper out of the tub. 

“Not all of them,” you answer. “I’m sorry.” 

“Nah, don’t you worry ‘bout it. I’ll do the rest, hm?” 

You wear a small smile, “Okay.”

“An’ I was thinkin’ that I could make us popcorn, like you like. Put on a movie. One of those girly ones I picked out for you, huh?”

Your smile grows. “Yeah,” you answer. 

Joel smiles too. “Good. Let’s get you dressed, then.” 

thank you for reading! please consider engaging by reblogging, hopping in my inbox, and/or commenting. your words go so far in keeping me motivated to write ♡

More dark!joel

[suguru-getos]

-> Kid Gojo running away from home, meets kid F!Reader. <3

It was weird, the scorching sun of Kyoto was humiliating her very body. Gasping, panting, heavy breathing, she had just run from a few bullies who wanted to take her limited edition water bottle away. For a child who was so doted on, overbearingly so, but somehow it all being a facade, Satoru couldn’t understand his own life, part of him thought it’s fun & he gets to have whatever he wants. Part of him craved what normalcy means, and how he could possibly achieve it in a stigma of innate power & pedastal he’s crowned with. His birthday recently passed, so many gifts & yet gift giving could lack warmth that much & include agendas? Unbearable. This world was unbearable.

His eyes were powerful, he had been practising with his own given the strict routine of Jujutsu being taught in his clan… Gojo clan, Zen’in clan, Kamo clan… how do normal people behave? Ignorance is bliss indeed, or that is something Satoru swears by for the non-sorcerer community.

Ignorance is utterly blissful, why else was she running towards him without a fear of her life? His eyes widened, school uniform, tattered & bruised knees, beautiful hair that are utter opposite to his, eyes gleaming, happy— kind— before Satoru could say anything, both her hands clasped his arm, using him as a leverage, she hid behind him.

Now, Satoru can handle all the trouble in the world. Small kid with small hands knew his worth, knew his birth shook the sorcerer community & he is god-like. Still, this normalcy felt endearing. The fact that she didn’t ask him, or bow in front of him to be allowed to touch Satoru was, new.

He turned his head to look at her, what was she running from. His gorgeous blue eyes met hers, thick lashes batting in curiosity, “Ano- what are you running from?” He asked, a slight snobbish arrogance lacing his sentence. He just isn’t used to any other way. Could it be that she was being haunted by a curse? What was tormenting this beautiful girl?

“How old are you?” Satoru continued, asking another question.

“I’m eight, turning nine soon. My name is Y/N. I am running from a few people in my school, they want my water bottle & they get anythin’ they want from anyone…” she pouted big, showing Satoru her water bottle. It looked cute, he’d give it that, but for someone who always has whatever he wants, the idea of people bothering someone else for materialistic things seemed unfit.

“Pretty bottle.” He said, taking it from her & examining it further. Maybe he’s missing something? There has to be something valuable about it… he even tried using six eyes to understand, nope… nothing. Just an ordinary bottle in the hands of an ordinary girl.

“They won’t bother you, I am here. I’m really strong.” He grins, so far he’s always been told he’s really strong but this time he has used this to forge his own identity. “Yeah?” She raised a brow, slightly skeptical.

“Yeah- I am already ten years old. Senpai.” Satoru smirked again, what a tiny lady being bothered by a tiny bottle.

“Well, if you really can protect me from those bullies, I can take you home and make you meet my mom. She makes amazing cookies, & she is making a cake today, Fridays are baking days.” This time, the girl grinned back, just as chirpy and excited. Happily accepting herself to be under Satoru’s wing.

The strongest sorcerer in the world, was still a kid. Needed to be loved like a kid. “I could get any cookies I want.” He shrugged.

“Yeah, not my mum’s cookies.” She resisted, pouting & yanking the bottle away.

What was about her mom’s cookies which could be that special? Satoru raised his brows, he has promised to protect someone & what kinda man would he be if he doesn’t keep his promise?

“Okay, I’ll go home with you.” He nods, besides, there is a special naughty joy that erupts in his childish psyche to imagine his butlers being scolded.

Satoru Gojo didn’t have a normal life, yet. This was a good start, maybe a frequent spot to visit when he escapes his gruesome trainings & his role to save the world.

[dotster001]

Waking Him up with a Kiss

Summary: Malleus/Silver/Jamil x Gn!Reader. You wake your lover up with a kiss.

Requested by an anon. Fuck you, Tumblr.

CW: Jamil is kinda sus but I wouldn't be doing him justice if he wasn't.

Also! Always get consent from your partner before kissing them in their sleep! That's a cool kid thing to do!

He'd been hinting at this for a while now. All his life, Lilia had regaled him with fairy tales where the sleeping prince or princess was woken with true love's kiss. Malleus had always been a hopeless romantic, and, damn, did he want that!

He'd left the books out when he slept over. He made sure that if he knew you would come looking for him, he'd nap on his back. He sighs dreamily (and loudly) whenever he rereads those fairytales next to you. He waxes on and on about how romantic being awoken with a kiss is. He knows he's dense. But he thinks you're worse.

Lilia giggles and says to be patient, Silver says to just tell you what he wants, and Sebek says to just banish you for the treason of making him sad. He decides that Lilia has never steered him wrong before, so he decides to be patient.

And one day it happens. He's dreaming of you, walking through a meadow, hand in hand. You turn to him, your radiant smile glowing brighter than the sun of his dreams. You press your lips to his, gentle as a cloud, and it feels so real that he doesn't want to wake up.

But he does, and he moans a little as he regrets losing the dream world. But the feeling of your lips doesn't fade. Light as a cloud, gentle as a dove, a feeling that makes him feel so full inside he thinks he'll burst.

His eyes flutter open, and there you are, on your knees in the grass, smiling softly as you push one of his dark bangs away from his eyes. He smiles sleepily, putting together that his dream came true.

“Now that you've given me a taste, I hope you know that I am insatiable,” he said, his voice still husky with sleep. You giggled, as though you thought he was joking.

Oh, you sweet little human.

He is not joking.

He has told you this on many occasions. If you are hanging out, and he falls asleep, do whatever you need to to wake him up. He originally tried to be chill about it, but eventually he let on just how much it distressed him when he missed time with you. He didn't want to miss out on any time with you. Yes, it was partially for you. But if he was honest, it was mostly for him. It hurt his chest to think about losing time with someone he loved. Being around the fae taught him every moment mattered.

Usually, you try everything. You shake him, you steal his pillow, you bang a pot, you set three alarms to go off at the same time. But today, you tried something different.

Silver blinked his eyes open, only to be met by your uncertain ones staring back at him, your face hovering a few inches above his.

He gently lifted a hand to his lips, the ghost of your kiss lingering. He may not have been fully awake for it, but he knows it happened.

His mind was immediately transported to a moment in his youth. He was sitting by his father, sniffling sadly because he fell asleep during Lilia's birthday party. 

“Ah, my sweet son,” Lilia said with a warm smile, gently nuzzling his cheek against Silver's. “I know it's not your fault. Even doctors have told you you can't help it. I am not upset at all.”

“But it's your birthday,” Silver sniffled. “I feel like I must be cursed.”

Lilia's eyes widened in understanding.

“That must be it!” He said excitedly. He ran to the nearby bookshelf and pulled off a book, before nodding sagely.

“Yes, that must be it, look,” he flipped to a page in the story, pointing to a picture of a sleeping princess being kissed awake by a knight in shining armor. “I know this curse! When you find true love, perhaps their kiss will save you!”

Silver excitedly nodded at the picture, his eyes wide.

Lilia snapped the book shut, authoritatively. “But until then, I don't want you to be sad when you fall asleep. Your hero will save you one day. And they might be sad that they took a long time to save you. So if you are less hard on yourself, it might help them feel better. Promise?”

Silver nodded happily.

Lilia is a menace, filling his son's heads with fairytales. /Affectionate

In the present, Silver smiled softly.

“Did you kiss me awake?”

“Sorry, I know I should have asked, but I figured when you said wake me up however I can-”

“That's correct. I could have said it plainly, but this is definitely what I pictured when I said that. But in case you need me to verbally say it, yes, please continue to wake me up like this. I think I will wake up every single time.”

You smiled at him, still hovering over him, making him long for your kiss again.

“You know, I wasn't awake for the last one. Would you please kiss me again?”

You giggled, then leaned in and pressed your lips to his.

“I feel like I need more ways to show my love for you,” you said thoughtfully. Jamil sat next to you on your bed in Ramshackle, reading over your report, and checking for mistakes.

“And what makes you say that?” He hummed in amusement.

“Seriously? You do everything for me! And I'm just kinda here!”

“I'm perfectly satisfied with that. In fact, I'd rather do all the hard stuff so that you have the energy to shower me in affection when I'm done,” he snickered to himself. If anything, a small selfish part of him liked the idea of you feeling like you had something to prove. It made you a very physically affectionate lover to “make up for it”. And while he was easily flustered, he very much liked the gentle caresses, warm embraces, and hungry kisses you gave him.

“Tell you what,” he hummed, handing you back the marked up report. It would take you hours to make the corrections. He loved you, but you were at a disadvantage when it came to college courses in the laws of magic. “I'm going to take a nap. When you finish, I'd really feel loved if you kissed me awake.”

He laid down, resting an arm over his eyes. 

“You could just stay the night if you're that tired,” you said in that tone of voice that only came when you were pouting.

“Can't. Kalim has a test tomorrow, and I need to make sure he wakes up for it.”

You grumbled something, but he was already out cold.

He felt…warm. He softly sighed, as he felt your kiss deepen. Still not opening his eyes, he wrapped an arm around your neck, and continued sleepily kissing you. Yeah. This is the life he wanted. To be rewarded for his hard work with your affection.

He finally opened his eyes with a scowl when you pulled away.

“I didn't say to stop. This is about expressing your love, right?” He snickered.

You pouted. “I miss when every single thing would fluster you.”

He scowled and stood up, stretching away the sleepiness as he prepared for his trek back to his dorm.

“I don't.”

You smiled sweetly, then reached out for his hair.

“Luckily,  I can still make you all blushy when I play with your hair.”

Tag list- @shytastemakerthing @eccedentesiast-sapphic @leoll @stygianoir @pikeru565

“Good night love,” he scowled as he stormed out of the room.

....

[pastryfication]

hii!! could I please request another sister Leclerc fic?? I don’t mind the topic as all your writing is amazing 💞💞 hope you have a good day! xx

hi!! i love writing sibling relationships so thank you for your request 🫶🫶 i hope it’s what you wanted

october birthdays | leclerc sister

pairing: leclerc brothers x sister!reader

summary: a story of how you and your brothers have celebrated your birthdays together throughout the years.

content warnings: very cute siblings bc that is one of my comfort tropes

october was a special month for many reasons. it was then fall break happened, halloween came, and most importantly: the big birthday week fell in october.

growing up with three older brothers had always meant a whirlwind of energy and competition. the four of you were extremely close—your relationship was a value your parents had drilled into you from a young age—but the bond you shared with arthur and charles was something else. something unique, cemented by your consecutive birthdays on the 14th, 15th and 16th of october. your close birthdays were a running joke amongst your friends, something you had both loved and hated growing up. but no matter how much you wished that you had your own birthday week, you couldn’t deny that there was something special about sharing it with your brothers.

on october 14th, you wake up to the familiar hum of excitement that always accompanies mid-october in your house. the smell of pancakes wafts from the kitchen, mingling with the autumn air that sneaks through the open window. your mother is already up, her cheerful humming a comforting backdrop to the clatter of pots and pans.

arthur, the youngest of your brothers, turns 24 today. tomorrow, it’s your turn—21 at last. and the day after, charles will celebrate his 27th birthday. the tradition to celebrate together, one big party that perfectly captures the essence of your close-knit family, is still going strong, and arthur and charles have both managed to come home for the week, a rare occasion that fills you with joy and excitement.

you scarcely remember your birthday when you turned six. arthur turned nine, and charles was a proud twelve-year-old.

back then, the house was filled with the smell of your mother's homemade baking. she had worked tirelessly, baking three cakes—one for each of you. she joked that it was like running a small bakery for a week.

when you close your eyes, you can still hear the laughter that echoed through the house as the three of you ran around, arthur boasting about his new remote-controlled car, charles showing off his model f1 car, and you clutching your new doll, a gift from your three brothers.

in the middle of the living room, the three of you gathered around a small table, the cakes in front of you. charles had just taught you and arthur how to blow out the candles all at once, a tradition he said brought good luck. as the sun dipped below the horizon, you all blew out the candles together, your wishes mingling in the evening air.

as teenagers, the tradition shifted slightly but remained just as special. the living room parties turned into backyard barbecues, your friends mingling with theirs. you recall the year you turned sixteen, arthur nineteen, and charles twenty-two. you were all busier then, with school, friends and budding responsibilities, but your birthdays were non-negotiable. it was the first year both your brothers brought a girlfriend to the celebration. you had felt a pang of jealousy, worried the tradition might change, but it didn’t. instead, it only grew. and it only continued to grow in the following years.

now, at 21, you’re in your family home, the air filled with the familiar scent of birthday cakes baking in the oven.

you head downstairs as soon as you wake up, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and delicious breakfast meeting you. your mum greets you with a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek when you meet her in the kitchen.

soon after, you hear the front door open and arthur’s familiar voice fills the room.

“morning! look who i found wandering outside,” he exclaims, nudging your older brother in the ribs as they walk in.

charles walks a step behind arthur, looking more mature but with the same spark in his eyes. he’s 27 now, but in this house, time feels like it has stood still. he hugs you gently, a warmth in his smile that reminds you of your childhood and makes you feel as if he’s never been away.

“it’s good to be home,” he says softly, burrowing his nose in your hair as if to sniff up the essence of you—because for him, you equal home in a way nothing else does. “happy birthday, ma petite.”

your oldest brother, lorenzo, joins you soon after. he’s always been the steady one, the rock that keeps the family grounded. he’s 35 now, an old man in your eyes, working a regular job and supporting your mother as she manages the household, but his support for you never wavers. he watches over you all with a quiet pride that you wouldn’t trade for the world.

as the day progresses, it quickly disappears in a blur of laughter, stories, and nostalgic moments. you spend the morning catching up, the afternoon playing games in the yard like you used to do and the evening gathered around the dinner table. your mother has outdone herself with a feast, and of course, the three special cakes make their annual appearance. this year, they are red velvet for charles, lemon for arthur, and chocolate for you. you savour every bite and smile brightly as your mother makes you pose for a picture; charles in the middle with his two younger siblings leaning against him, while lorenzo stands behind you, arms around the three of you.

later, after the cake has been devoured and the dishes cleared, you find yourselves in the living room, flipping through old photo albums. there are pictures from every birthday, from the chaotic, frosting-smeared faces of your childhood to the more recent, slightly more sophisticated celebrations at racetracks and fancy restaurants.

arthur points to a photo of the three of you from years ago, standing in front of a go-kart track, each holding a trophy. “remember this day? when mum and dad let us all race together for the first time.”

you laugh, recalling how charles had tried to teach you both racing tactics while arthur had insisted on just having fun. surprisingly, arthur did end up winning with his questionable method, but it had been charles who scooped you up and twirled you around in victory when you managed to finish without spinning out.

“i was terrible,” you laugh.

“let’s be honest,” arthur states. “you’re still terrible.”

offended, you lay your face in a mask of fake outrage, turning to hit his side. your fist connects with his shoulder, but he barely flinches, only laughing at you. the rest of your family soon joins, and you can’t help but give in too. you really are terrible.

as the evening winds down, you sit on the porch with charles and arthur, the cool night air wrapping around you. as you stare out at the night sky, resting your head on arthur’s shoulder, you realize that no matter where life takes you, these moments will always bring you back together. the tradition, the love, and the shared birthdays are the threads that weave your family into a tapestry of unbreakable bonds. the stars are bright, and for a moment, everything is perfect.

perfect, because some things never change, and for that, you are eternally grateful.

[multifandomgirl08]

A Year in Moments [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Mother!Reader (Established Relationship)

Photo Credit: Pinterest/Tumblr

Format: Social Media

Summary: 2026 in little moments

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

danielricciardo

Liked by ynverstappen and 386,457 others

tagged: maxverstappen1 & ynverstappen

danielricciardo Apparently I crashed date night. Sorry for being the third wheel guys.

ynverstappen Third wheel? What are you talking about?

maxverstappen1 danielricciardo You were flirting with my wife just as much as I was. ynverstappen He was flirting with me only when he wasn't flirting with you. danielricciardo Have you seem Max?? Why wouldn’t I flirt with him? ynverstappen True, he's something that needs to be cherished. danielricciardo I love that we're fighting over Max. How you feel about that mate? maxverstappen1 Pretty good! Please do continue... or you know save it for when you are next at the house.

View all 574 comments

fan85 Wait, does this mean that Y/N knows about Maxiel? The Verstappens and Daniel?!

fan61 I thought we all made a gentlemen’s (fangirl’s) agreement not to bring up Maxiel on IG.

fan23 Does Daniel get invited out to dinner with Max and Y/N often?

fan38 There has to be more to this story!

February 10, 2026

ynverstappen

Liked by georgerussell63, lilymhe and 348,926 others

tagged: lilymhe, carmenmmundt,...

ynverstappen Things can get crazy when it's just us

sebastianvettel Please bring back my wife in one piece.

alex_albon Should I be concerned that my flat is going to be a mess when I get home?

View all 745 comments

fan18 When all the F1 WAGs have dinner together!

fan67 How do you get an invite to this dinner? Asking for a friend.

fan39 Become a WAG. How else?

fan49 Is no one going to talk about the fact that all of the WAGs are having dinner together just after Mother’s Day??

May 28, 2026

ynverstappen 📍Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps

Liked by danielricciardo and 234,845 others

ynverstappen Our weekend in Spa

View all 842 comments

fan95 Nico looks just like Max

fan76 Has anyone ever met Y/N at a race?

fan45 I met her last year at Silverstone. She was super nice, even offered to take my picture with Lando who was walking with her and Nico.

fan63 I feel like Nico is just the sweetest kid.

fan56 Can confirm. Aside from Y/N, Nico just wanted to spend the day with his dad and his little brother when I saw them earlier today.

fan44 Wondering why Y/N hasn't posted any pictures of Nikita given that he was at Spa?

fan60 I don't think it's strange for Y/N not to post any pictures of Nikita given that he's only 9 months old. Y/N wasn't even sitting in the garage like she normally does on race day. It's probably too loud for his little ears.

August 2, 2026

ynverstappen

Liked by yourbestfriend and 451,045 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

ynverstappen Best view in The Maldives

danielricciardo I taught this man how to thirst trap!

ynverstappen You did, I've never been more grateful!

View all 456 comments

fan23 I love that they've become the couple that just drops thirst traps of one another

fan74 Y/N is feeding us all of the good content

fan86 Is that baby Nikita with Max in the last photo?

August 27, 2026

ynverstappen

Liked by maxverstappen1, victoriaverstappen and 238,475 others

tagged: victoriaverstappen

ynverstappen Happy Birthday to my awesome sister-in-law. Between the lunch dates, retail therapy, and picking on the man that I love. I wouldn't be able to survive family vacations without you.

📸: sophiekumpen

lilymhe The perfect sister-in-law duo

ynverstappen You know it babe

fan67 Lily is in Y/N's comments! OMG

fan23 When Y/N's photos are giving off S and B vibes

October 22, 2026

maxverstappen1 and ynverstappen

Liked by martingarrix, and 734,724 others

maxverstappen1 I would die for her. I would kill for her. Either way, what bliss.

📸 : lilymhe

georgerussell63 The actual physical embodiment of these characters

danielricciardo You've never looked better mate

landonorris Did you dye your hair? Brave man

maxverstappen1 Not hair dye, it's like spray I think?

View all 392 comments

fan73 They already give off this energy 😍😍

fan59 Mom and Dad

fan84 She really is everything, and he worships her.

October 31, 2026

----

Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore, @lpab, @thedecalcomania-blog, @xoscar03

[aychama]

Bearer of the Red Crown's Birthday

"These pompous assholes." Narinder opened the door to escape outside and take a breather.

"They were never taught to shut the hell up were they?" He rubbed his temples and wondered why was their birthday gift to him was a headeache.

The calm but obnoxiously loud people inside the greathall had gathered to congradulate the King's birthday. Of course it was a big event and many of the nobles were attending. Some even travveled from the other kingdoms.

But to Narinder it was just a nuisance, just like how it was every year.

They had gathered to make connections, threaten eachother covertly or simply suck up to Narinder. He had to put up with these people and act like they wouldn't turn on him with the twirl of any one of his siblings finger.

He was just looking for a place to hide now but it seemed his hiding place was occupied by a slouched figure.

"Lambert?" Narinder noticed the figure in the corner next to the flower bushes.

"BAH!" They shout out a short bleat and turned towards him. Their funny noise and freaked out face was like a cold fresh water being splashed on Narinder's hot and aching head.

"My King! Please, you need to stop sneaking up on me..." Lambert sighed and got up.

Were they getting away from people too? That wasn't good. He had specifically told them to use this oppurtunity to make connections so they could have people helping them with their new lands troubles.

Just as he was about to start his lecture he noticed the neatly folded fabric in Lambert's hands.

"Is this..." he saw the little bow it was wrapped with.

A gift.

Lambert looked at the item in their hands, hesitated a little and presented it towards him.

"For you, yes."Narinder's fingers brushed Lambert's as he took it and started examining it. It was a red and white scarf.

"Aym and Baal said that you get cold easily so... I was actually going to knit it myself but it was way harder to do than I thought it would be. Haha..." They let out a defeated sigh hidden with a tired smile.

"I-it's not an expensive item I know but I-"

"It's made out of your wool." Narinder cut them off as he took off the bow and ran his fingers through the fabric. It was so, oh so soft. He didn't even have to bring his nose closer to it to know it smell like them.

"You can tell?" Lambert's face looked horrified, their smile dropping down as they looked up at him.

They suddenly reached out towards the scarf and started to pull it out of Narinder's hands.

"That's just weird isn't it? I-I knew it would be weird argh stupid Berith-"

"Wh- No!"Narinder did not let go of the scarf and it stretched between the two."Lambert no it's not weird." He looked at them hoping he sounded genuine.

"It's no secret that I like wool and this is perfect." Lambert stopped pulling and looked at Narinder, unsure.

He had gotten many presents today. So many that he lost count. So many things that he did not care. Jewelry, expensive items, some magical crystals, decorative weapons. Presents that were given to a King so that they wouldn't lose face or even worse, so that the noble families could look at eachother and say 'Look at how rich I am. The King surely likes me more than all of you so I can use him to scare you and get my way'. It was all so obvious and so shallow that he thought the amount of jewelry and necklaces were going to stuf his throat so much that he could drown without water.

But this,

This was from Lambert.

And it didn't have any underlying intentions.

Narinder slowly pulled the scarf from Lambert's hesitant hands.

"I remember reading a book when I was young."

He wrapped the scarf around his neck.

"It was about the culture of our folk."

He adjusted the scarf and both ends hung over his shoulders lovingly.

"And I remember reading that sheep-folk would give eachother gifts made out of their own wool to show their appreciation for eachother." He adjusted the scarf and looked at them to see the curiosity color their pretty face.

"Really?" Lambert asked and he nodded softly.

Narinder knew that Lambert wasn't taught of their own culture. It was...sad... but not unexpected. There wasn't really any sheep-folk in the 5 kingdoms other than them.

To think Shamura's old books he randomly decided to read would have a lot about sheep-folk in them. Too bad that wretched younger brother of his burnt down Shamura's library just because he was jealous Shamura would read books with Narinder... Narinder wishes that Shamura would have killed Leshy right then and there but they didn't. Soft hearted fool who went easy on all of their siblings but not on their enemies. And that included Narinder too.

Narinder shook his head to get rid of the hatred starting to boil up in his gut and focused on the scarf and Lambert. Their smell and their soft wool was all around him, quickly calming him down as he lowered his head to bury the bottom half of his face into the scarf.

He heard the softest giggle.

"You look silly."

Narinder opened his eyes, he didn't even know when he had closed them, and looked at Lambert.

They were smiling so soft and warmly at him. His throat clogged up again but he wasn't feeling bad this time.

"It's clashing with the rest of the jewelry badly."

He couldn't take his eyes off of Lambert's smile as they talked.

He thanked God that he always had his veil because he didn't think he could explain why he was looking at Lambert's smile like it was the only thing in the world.

"And it looks funny with your fancy clothes. Maybe I should have told Berith to make it look more expensive." Lambert laughed. If he could eat their voice he bet it would taste like fluffy candy, he thought.

The two heard some people talking about where the king has gone from inside and Narinder sighed.

Lambert reached towards Narinder's neck and tugged at the scarf.

"You need to go back in right? You can't just look like this in front of everyone. I'll put it next to the pile of gifts-"

He grabbed their arm and stopped them from taking the scarf.

"No." He said firmly.

"But-"

"Who said I would be going in alone? I remember telling a certain someone that they need to make connections because their poor decisions while ruling their own land had left them in a troubling state." He turned the conversation towards Lambert seemlessly to cover up whatever he was feeling right now.

"A-ah that! I have a little bit of a-no actually a big headache from talking with so many- soooo many people yknow?" Lambert stumbled over their words.

Narinder let the silence fall between them to show them he did not believe them.

"Let's go. I suppose I have to be the one to intruduce you to people." Narinder pulled Lambert by the arm that he had grabbed and walked towards the door.

"I'm- My King! You shouldn''t- you don't need to pull me!"

[aerowolf]

the mercs realize it's your bday and you didn't tell anyone because your family doesn't do birthdays

I’m so sorry this is a mess between British and American english. I have an American parent and a Canadian one so it messed me up lolll

if didn't include a Merc you wanted, feel free to request and I'll try and add them :]

includes: Miss Pauling & offense classes

cute platonic, gn!reader

warnings: n/a, this is basically all fluff

You'd rather not make a big deal of it being your birthday, even though it is you were taught that birthdays aren't a big deal and your family never really did them.

You kind of wish someone would care but you feel guilty about that so you choose not to tell anyone about it

The only one of these who actually knows it's your birthday is Miss Pauling, who’s seen your personnel files

Miss Pauling

She knows it's your birthday, and instead of ignoring it she decides to at least discreetly make it a good day for you

She arrives on base for a routine inspection, clipboard in hand, but once she's done with the main thing, instead of leaving, she comes to your room

"I saw that it's your birthday today. I don't know if you celebrate, or anything, but, uh, I thought you'd like a gift. Maybe."

She hands you a box, inside are some candy bars and a plush of a bear

"I know it's not exactly the nicest thing, and I know it's kinda... stereotypical... but, y'know, I thought you'd like something. So, happy birthday. From me.” She’s really shy about it, you get the feeling she didn’t--probably still doesn’t--really get to celebrate birthdays either. 

She offers you a ride on her motorbike, something nice, on the open road--away from this base for a little while. You accept, taking a seat behind her, enjoying the open air--though it is pretty hot out. You guys talk, just enjoying the time.

She smiles at you as you get back. “Happy birthday. You deserve it.”

You thank her and even give her a hug. It’s nice that you got this for once. 

Scout

He has no idea whatsoever that it’s your birthday. He’s interacting with you like usual, teasing you, just hanging out. You’re happy as you talk that day; he’s always good at making you laugh and smile.

At some point he notices that you’re a little down, as much as you may try to hide it, he can tell. You’re his friend, and even though he might act like he doesn’t care sometimes, you know he does. A lot.

You tell yourself you don’t want anything on your birthday, that it’s easier if no one knows, but secretly, you do.

“Hey, what’s up? C’mon, ya know I can tell when something’s wrong.” 

You tell him it’s nothing. 

“You sure? Really? You’re kinda… I dunno, sadder than usual.” After he asks a few times, you finally come out and tell him. You don’t say much. Just “It’s my birthday.”

“No kiddin’? Well, why didn’t ya tell me?” He comes off pretty strong. You feel kind of apologetic for mentioning it, and look away from him. “Aw, hey. Y’know what--it don’t matter. I’m gonna throw you a party like you ain’t never seen, believe me.”

You try to tell him you don’t want a party--well, you do. Maybe. No you don’t. Well, sure. But not a big one. He’s really sweet and enthusiastic about it. “Someone like you deserves a big birthday--but if you don’t want it, dat’s okay. Ya know, we could just hang out, or somethin’. You n’ me, yeah?” 

You tell him you’d like that a lot. You both find a quiet spot in the base where you can just talk. He messes around, too, and pops in a Tom Jones record. 

He’s a little shy, a little embarrassed, but he even sings happy birthday to you. He just seems glad no one can hear him. He doesn’t have a gift handy for you, but he ends up scribbling you a quick doodle of him telling you happy birthday. It’s misspelt, but the drawing is cute, and you keep it. “I hope ya had a good day. I’m just sorry I didn’t know sooner.” You tell him that it wasn’t his fault, how could he have known? 

After all is done, he gives you an awkward hug. You smile and return it.

Soldier

He’s a little crazy so he’s just hanging around base, today he had the idea to strip and cover himself in honey, so everyone has had to convince him to please not do that, and now he’s just moping around, muttering about how anti patriotic this all is.

You sit next to him and mope as well. Unlike him, no one knows the reason you’re moping. To anyone else’s point of view, you’re just comforting him--for whatever weird reason. But he sees that you’re just as sad as him.

“What’s wrong, maggot? Is there someone who needs to see my fists meet their face?”

You tell him no, no one did anything. You’re a little intimidated by him, and you don’t see much reason to tell him anyways. But it’s nice sitting with a friend. 

“If it’s not a person, then… it must be an object! Give it to me and I will destroy it immediately.” He’s being as sweet as he can, you smile and shake your head.

You sit there for a bit, smiling as you watch the other mercs come and go. Today isn’t a bad day, just a little sad. Later, you plan to find some kind of sweet treat to eat alone.

Soldier stands up, at attention, and points at you. “MAGGOT, AS YOUR SUPERIOR AND SENIOR, I ORDER YOU TO TELL ME WHAT IS WRONG!”

With a sad smile and a chuckle you finally tell him.

“Your birthday?” Soldier seems genuinely surprised. He places a hand on his chin and thinks. “We cannot go without celebrating! This is momentous!”

Although you try to protest, he turns to the base, stating to every other merc, “LISTEN UP! IT IS Y/N’S BIRTHDAY AND WE WILL CELEBRATE!” 

He makes it his personal mission to decorate for a party that very evening, even gets a cake and everything. He makes every other merc sing happy birthday with him. Maybe this isn’t so bad.

You give him a big hug, and he is surprised at first, but proceeds to give a gentle laugh and hug back.

Pyro

You see Pyro colouring with crayons and coloured pencils on their break, and you sit by them. You don’t really understand what they’re saying a lot of the time, but you enjoy hanging out with them. It’s a long period of silence before you join them in colouring. Regardless of your artistic skills, they’re impressed and encourage you, and are very happy when you show them what you’ve been working on. 

After a little while you get kind of bored and sad. You’ve tried to enjoy this day but it’s another bittersweet birthday. You’re happy to hang out with Pyro though, even though they don’t know what day it is.

Pyro notices that you’ve stopped colouring with them, and that you’re looking at the ground instead, messing with the cracks in the floor.

“Huddah hrmmf mmmrph?” You don’t understand what they’re saying exactly, but you smile at them. They seem to be asking what’s wrong, why you stopped, why you seem so sad.

You hesitate for a moment before finally confessing. They seem to mostly understand what you mean, and they lean back, thinking. 

After a few seconds, they stand up and help pull you off the floor. They point to their room, and you follow them. It’s an odd combination of scorch marks, colourful drawings, weapons, and art supplies. They lead you to a wardrobe and pull out a box. 

Surprisingly, you can see that it's fully wrapped. Did they somehow know it was your birthday? Do they keep these gifts on hand for the mercs?

You won’t get an answer, but they excitedly push it out and offer it to you. “Huddah hmmph!” They sound almost like they are smiling behind the mask. You take the box and open it. It’s got crayons, pencils, and… wow, that’s a drawing of you and them.

You smile, almost ready to tear up, and thank them. You give them a hug, and you notice that they’re hugging you back even harder. Maybe they don’t really understand, but this is sweet.

[mochinek0]

Time to Go

Marinette had known since she was born that she was the only daughter of Bruce Wayne and Talia Al Ghul. She was also Damian's little sister, by three years.

When the strike on Ra's Al Ghul was taken, Talia quickly hid her away. Marinette knew her family's lives were on the line. She knew Damian would be on the front lines and prayed for his safe return. Although she knew she wasn't her grandfather's favorite, she still mourned his death. Damian seemed to take it especially hard.

Talia had told Marinette and Damian that they would be seperated for the time being. She needed Damian to go with his father to continue his training, while she picked up the pieces of the League.

"What about me, Mother?" Mari questioned.

"You will be on a mission, all of your own." Talia explained, "You're mission is to go undercover. You will act as a daughter of other people. This will keep you safe. Not many know of your existence, but I need to make sure all that wish to harm us, are gone."

"I do not approve of this." Damian snarled.

"I understand." Talia whispered, "I have folders for each of you with detailed instructions. Until you are in your new lodgings, you are not to open them."

Marinette nodded sadly and cried herself to sleep in her big brother's arms. She knew it would be a while before she saw him again. Talia gave them their moment. It hurt her dearly to tear her children apart, but Slade had to pay for his crimes. The League had to be rebuilt and become stronger than ever to give them both their inheritance. With Ra's gone, she would train Marinette to become as deadly as her, when she came of age.

Marinette smiled at the envelope in her hand.

'Another letter from mother. I wonder what my orders are this time.'

Marinette,

The time has come for your father to pick you up. He and Damian will pick you up in three days time. Prepare for his arrival.

Marinette smiled, happily. Lila had been a pain in the ass, as of late. Sabine and Tom took everything her so-called friends said at face value. They would laugh at the implications over dinner. Marinette would tell them all of the lies and how brainless the class truly was. They both knew that if Marinette was really bullying Lila, she could have done far worse. Tom and Sabine had disagreed with Adrien's decleration, but told Mairnette to keep the piece while they reached out to Talia. Only her mother's orders were absolute. If her mother said she could kill her, they wouldn't stand in her way.

"Maman. Papa." Marinette called out.

"So, what did the letter say this time?" Sabine asked.

"Father and Brother will be here in three days time to retrieve me." she answered.

"Well, let's start pulling you out of that horrible school and get ou all packed up." Tom laughed, "I'm sure they will be happy to see you."

'Damian, perhaps. Father; I don't know if he even knows of my existence. Surprise, Father.'

Bruce sighed, "What do you mean you have a sister?"

"It's just as I stated." Damian declared, "Mother has insisted it is safe to retrieve her."

"You've been talking to Talia?" Dick questioned.

"No." the young Wayne heir answered, "She gave us both instructions before we left."

Damian held up the letter.

"There are certain dates for me to open these letters." he explained, "Most of them coincide with our birthdays. Today is Marinette's; she turns fifteen."

"So where is she?" Jason asked.

"Paris, France." Damian stated, "She has been under watchful eyes and was assigned to live as a normal child. No assassin work. Grandfather wasn't too happy that he didn't have two grandsons. Mother taught her self-defense, but she helped out around, mostly as a servant. I was to ignore her if I saw her unless we were alone."

Bruce rubbed his head.

"I have already prepared another room, Sir." Alfred smiled.

"Please, don't let there be two of him." Tim pleaded as Bruce stood up and walked out of the cave to pack.

Marinette handed over her ledger of Lila Rossi to Bruce.

"The school needs to choose their staff more carefully." she spoke, "Tom and Sabine have tried stepping in with the Principal, but I bellieve the Board needs to know what is going on under their noses.

Bruce looked at it and quickly read through it.

"I agree." he snarled, "I'll be taking it with me to the board. I need to legally sign you out of that school, anyways."

Marinette turned to her brother and hugged him.

"I missed you." she whispered.

Damian said nothing, but held her close.

Tom and Sabine stood by as they watch the girl they help raise, reunite with her family. Marinette let go and realized they were holding something.

"We have a copy of all of the recipes we've made over the years." Sabine declared, "Both in the bakery and just for the house."

"Family eyes only." Tom smiled.

"Thank you." Marinette replied, taking it and holding it close to her chest.

"I will make sure it is handed over to our grandfather and he will keep it locked up and safe." Damian declared.

Tom and Sabine smiled.

"I need to take my stuff back to the school." Mari spoke up.

"Go." Damian replied, "Father should return soon. I will tell him where you are and we will meet you there. I will put your belongings in the car so we can leave immediately."

Marinette walked into class and handed her class books over to Ms. Bustier.

"Marinette, why-" Caline began to question.

"I resign as class president." Mari announced.

"What?" Caline whispered in shock.

"Marinette?" Adrien called out, "Are you okay?"

"Is this why you haven't been in school?" Alya asked.

Caline laughed awkwardly, "Marinette, I'm sure-"

"I will be leaving this school, as of today." she announced, leaving the class stunned.

"Oh, Marinette!" Lila called out, standing up, "Did I do something? I only wanted to be friends!"

"Yeah!" shouted Kim, "What the hell?"

"I'll be moving in with my birth father and older brother." Marinette stated, "Mother says it is time for me to go with them."

"Sabine kicked you out?" Adrien questioned, confused.

"Sabine and Tom are my guardians, not my parents." Mari declared, "My birth father listened to me. I have always had a keen eye for detail, as many of you know from asking me to design for them."

"Are you till going on about 'Lila stealing from you'?" Alya asked, "We know it was you who stole!"

Lila paled and sat back down in her seat.

'What?'

Marinette looked at Lila and smiled, "Why do you think Ms. Bustier doesn't want me to stop being class president? It's because I make detailed plans for all the school trips, fundraisers, plan the fire drills, and escape routes. I even know where everything in this school is, including the security cameras. I have kept a record of every lie you said sice you got here, where and when. My father turned the evidence over to the Board of Governers."

Lila's jaw dropped.

"If the cameras aren't working, then they'll just go after that gullible man. Pretty sure embezzlement won't keep him in position." Mari shrugged.

"Huh?" asked Nino.

"How many times do you think the mayor pays him to look the other way when Chloe's being a bitch?" Marinette declared.

"Excuse me!" Chloe shouted.

"Maybe Lila can lend you her hearing aids." Marinette retorted.

"This is why you're a bully." Alix glared at her.

Marinette simply smiled.

Bruce and Damian walked in. Chloe smoothed her clothes and fluffed her hair, quickly. She stood up and smiled.

"I'm-" She spoke.

"Your voice is like nails on a chalk board." Damian commanded, "Be silent."

Chloe closed her mouth and sat down in embarassment, leaving everyone speechless.

Marinette giggled, "You always did know how to make an entrance, Big Brother."

Chloe's jaw dropped.

'She's a Wayne!'

Marinette turned and smiled at Chloe, "Goodbye, Daddy's Little Princess." before turning back to her family, "Father, I am ready to return home."

"Very well." Bruce spoke.

All three of them left the class without another word. There was a lot they had to discuss. As far as Bruce knew, Marinette had no idea about him being Batman and Damian being Robin. She had grown up with some semblance of a normal life and he wanted to keep it that way.

The class looked at the door confused.

"Chloe?" whispered Sabrina.

"Shit!" Chloe screamed, slamming her fists onto the desk.

"Chloe, are you okay?" asked Kim.

"No!" she yelled back, "Do I look okay? So you know-You don't know who they are? Of course you Pea Brains, don't! That was Bruce and Damian Wayne. Which makes.....Baker Girl is one of the richest people in the world."

Lila sat in her seat, enraged.

'What?'

"What?" questioned Alya.

"They have more money than mine and Adrikins' family combined." she scoffed, "Her father could buy Daddy's hotel like it was nothing!"

"But-" whispered Mylene.

"Marinette is a Wayne." Chloe stated, "The Waynes own an international business and have their hands in everything. They are old money. Bruce Wayne practically owns a whole city and just doesn't wanna be mayor."

"What about her brother?" asked Alix.

"He's known for being violent and lashing out. He hates the press." she remarked, "One thing about him on social media and he hunts you down and sues you."

"That's illegal." Alya claimed.

"Sorry. Would you prefer to be thrown in jail or settle for a million dollars to delete what you have?" the heiress questioned, "The Wayne family is known for the high IQ and attention to detail, which means....we're all screwed."

The class learned that everything Marinette had said was true. Lila's lies were all exposed. She was expelled and taken to a juvenile detention center, ontop of being sued by various people. Principal Damocles had been fired, as he had zero authority to expell anyone. Their teacher, Caline Bustier, was fired for not doing her job. She never informed the nurse about Lila's illnesses or disabilities, so there was never any confirmation that any of those were true. She also never sent Lila any homework during her 'travels' and so she was far behind the class in her studies.

Chloe believed she was suffering the most. Adrien was no longer in school with her. The people that let her do what she wanted was removed from the school and she was being forced to sell clothes out of her closet because her mother was upset by how much she 'embarassed them' in front of the Waynes.

'Stupid Marinette! This is all her fault! If she had just acted rich, like me, everything would be the same as it always was.'

The class was in disarray. Not only had Ms. Bustier let Lila slide on so many things, she was behind on their lessons as well. They now had mandatory after school tutoring and study sessions. Adrien Agreste had been pulled out of the class due to his high marks. He was also at the level they all should have been at.

"Dude, how did you pass?" Nino asked, "We all listened to Miss Bustier! You're higher than anyone, including Max!"

"Well, I was homeschooled and Natalie was a tough teacher compared to Miss Bustier. Also, I wanted to be at the same grade level as Chloe. I sorta knew mostly everything, already." Adrien admitted, "I actually could have skipped a few grades if I wanted to."

Nino was surprised, "Would you be willing to tutor us?"

"I wish I could but the board made me take a test and Father demanded I answer every question I knew correctly." Adrien sighed, "I'll be going to high school and if I continue the way I am now, I'm set to graduate in two years."

They realized it would never be the same. Everyone else still had four or five years until they graduated. 

Bruce thought that another child would tip the balance of the manor, but he was wrong. It felt like all they had been missing, was her. She adjusted perfectly to the chaos. His sons insisted that Marinette learn self-defense, at the very least. She refused to walk in their footsteps and become Robin or any other sort of vigilante. It hadn't taken long for Marinette to be announced as Bruce Wayne's daughter and Damian's long lost biological sister. Marinette had taken Gotham by storm as Gotham's Angel and was designing under a new alias: Serpentine. She was taking the fashion world by storm.

Everyone loved having Marinette around, but Damian Al-Ghul Wayne knew better. Marinette was as deceiving as their mother. She looked innocent in everything she did, but her mind was a war zone. Their grandfather never appreciated her mind, but he had gotten some of his best stealth mission ideas after talking with her. He could see her slithering into every crack in their new home. She was flexible like Grayson, loved motorcycles like Todd, talked business with Father and Drake. She even won over Alfred, Brown and Cain with her cooking and baking skills.

Damian watched as Marinette smiled at her computer. The look at the screen, the smile; it was his mother's smile. He could see Gabriel stocks were plummeting after their reunion in Paris. Style Queen was barely hovering above water. For Marinette, it was never about becoming Robin. It was about ruling the world and she was going do it through fashion.

Damian would never tell anyone, but he was scared of his little sister and he would take it to his grave. The smile that would lead anyone to death: The Arabian Helen of Troy.

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[corroded-hellfire]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8BChQY6/

I was just reading the AYW halloween fic u posted and I saw this and can you imagine Eddie pulling this stunt on Ryan and Luke. I feel like this is how they would react

Surprise, another AYW story! I've had this request since last year, so I apologize to the anon who has been waiting so long. This takes place the day after this Halloween story!

Words: 1.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“No, you didn’t!” 

“Yes, I did.”

“No! You did not!”

“Where is it then?”

It’s next to impossible for Eddie to keep a straight face. 

Luke frowns and flops back against the cushions on the couch. His natural Munson dramatics are on full display, even at five years old. 

“You didn’t eat our candy!” Ryan insists.

It takes everything in you not to start laughing at their small, affronted faces. You gave them each one piece of candy on the ride home from school and one when they got home. That’s all the candy they’ve laid eyes on today—they don’t know their stash from last night is in a big bowl on the top shelf of the pantry. But Eddie, being Eddie, had to take the opportunity of their lack of visibility to tease them. After a long day at work, it seems to be relaxing him actually. 

“How could you eat all of that?!” Luke demands, running his hands down his face.

“We shared,” Eddie says, nodding his head towards you. You fight the impulse to raise your eyebrows at him for looping you into his evil plan. 

“That’s what you did after we went to bed?” Ryan asks, brow furrowing.

God, the things I wanted to do with her last night… Eddie thinks. 

“We’re never going to bed again,” Luke says. 

“You even ate the candy corn?” Ryan’s nose wrinkles up at the thought of anyone eating that gross candy. 

“Even that,” you say. 

“This is so unfair!” Luke slides down from the couch to the floor, lying face down on the carpet. “It’s all I was looking forward to today. What’s even the point anymore?”

Both you and Eddie have to turn away and hide your muffled laughter. Five seems a little young to be having some sort of existential crisis. 

Once recovered, Eddie looks back at his son. Luke face planting on the ground and Ryan slumped over the arm of the couch in annoyance. He toys with stringing them along a little bit longer but decides he’s had his fun.

“How about this,” Eddie starts. “I’ll get you more candy if you do one thing.”

“What?” Ryan asks as both boys’ heads pop up.

“Remember that dance you learned yesterday?” Eddie’s eyes drift to you and you share a smirk.

After school and before trick-or-treating yesterday you taught the small Munsons how to do the Time Warp dance from Rocky Horror. 

“Yeah,” Luke answers.

“I wanna see it again,” Eddie tells them.

You’ve never seen the boys get up on their feet so quickly before. They’re both ready, hands on hips, to perform the choreography. 

“Do you happen to have the soundtrack?” you ask Eddie.

He swivels his head in your direction and cocks an eyebrow. It’s a look that says did you really just ask me that?

“What kind of music aficionado and 70s kid would I be if I didn’t have it?” He pushes himself up from the chair and walks over to his collection near the stereo.

“Well, pardon me,” you tease.

Eddie chuckles and looks over his shoulder at you with a cheeky smile.

“I actually only have it because my friend Dustin got two for his birthday one year and he gave me the extra.”

You walk over to him and playfully swat his shoulder blade.

“Making me feel dumb,” you mumble.

Eddie plucks the CD from a pile and turns to wrap one arm around your shoulders.

“Aw come on, sweetheart,” he says, looking at you with those damn brown eyes that make you melt. “Who would I be if I didn’t mess with the people I care about?”

Your heart flutters but you immediately try to tamp it down. It would make sense that he cares for you, given that he trusts you to watch his children every day for over six months now. It’s nothing more than that, you convince yourself. Because you have to. 

“Can we dance, please?” Luke huffs. “I want my chocolate.”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie says. He pops the CD out of the case and slides it into the stereo.

It's astounding

Time is fleeting

Madness takes its toll

But listen closely

Not for very much longer

I've got to keep control

The boys wiggle, loosening up as they wait for the chorus. Both you and Eddie watch in excited anticipation. 

“Here it is,” Luke tells his brother. 

Ryan nods and adjusts his hands on his hips.

It's just a jump to the left

The boys take giant hops to the left, Luke almost knocking into his brother. 

And then a step to the right

Put your hands on your hips

The boys don’t have to do the motion since they’ve had them there the entire time.

You bring your knees in tight

But it's the pelvic thrust

It really drives you insane

A giggle bursts out of you as the boys wiggle their hips—which is what you taught them because no children need to learn what “pelvic thrust” means.

The music winds down and the little dancers melt down onto the living room carpet.

“Bravo,” Eddie says, starting a slow clap. You join in as the brothers get up and take bows.

“Candy?” Luke asks.

“Hmm,” Eddie hums. He keeps his face neutral as he presses his hands to his thighs to rise from his seat. 

Their eyes never leave their father as he makes his way into the kitchen. When he disappears due to a wall, they lean over to keep Eddie in their sights. The squeak of the pantry door echoes out to the living room and your eyes are automatically attracted to the little sliver of skin that shows when Eddie reaches up to the top shelf. 

A dramatic gasp comes from Luke as Eddie pulls down the same large orange bowl that the pooled candy was put into last night. 

“You didn’t eat it!” the five-year-old growls.

“You liar!” Ryan calls, pointing at his father.

“I did not lie,” Eddie says as he strolls back into the room. “I was tricking you. You know, as in, trick-or-treat.”

“Now gimme my treat,” Luke says, making grabby hands.

You plop down on the couch and pull the smaller boy into your lap.

“Will you share with me?” you ask.

“Yeah, you’re a nice lady.”

You chuckle and wrap your arms around Luke as Ryan sits down next to you and Eddie puts the bowl on the coffee table.

“Okay, give me all your KitKats,” Eddie says.

“Go fish,” Ryan says, snatching up a KitKat and unwrapping it before his dad can get it.

“Can this be our dinner?” Luke asks.

“It can be your dinner if you go to bed in ten minutes,” Eddie says.

Luke sighs. “Never mind.”

[l0velysmut]

Happy Birthday — Neteyam x fem!metkayina!reader

contains: aged!up neteyam, tsaheylu, p in v, oral sex (f recieving), virginity loss, creampie, straight up love making.

wc: 2.8k

The bioluminescence coming from the small pool of water in the cave reflected off of the rocky walls and onto yours and Neteyams skin as you two sat on your knees before each other.

You held your kuru in front of you, the end of it in your lap as you and Neteyam held eye contact. He wrapped his darker blue hand around his own kuru, and pulled it over his shoulder so that it dangled down his chest.

Today was your 18th birthday. The same day you passed your iknimaya and finally became a woman. You were a bit tired from trying to master the ability to ride your tsurak, but you and Neteyam had been planning to mate on your 18th birthday for years.

When Neteyam and his family arrived to Awa’atlu, he was sure that he was going to be alone for the rest of his life. But when he saw you in the crowd of people curiously looking at him and his family, he became not so sure.

And his feelings only expanded when you were the one who taught him the way of the water. When you were the one who constantly had your hands on him while teaching him, telling him how he should breath, and that he needed to slow down his heart beat. But how could he when a beautiful girl sat in front of him with her hands on his chest and stomach?

So here you were, sitting before each other, staring into each other's eyes longingly. You glanced down at where you two were about to connect then looked at him. He looked at you for any sort of regret or hesitance, but when you nodded, he brought the pinkish tendrils of both of your kurus together, watching in awe as they tangled around each other, connecting your souls. Tying them to one another for all of eternity.

Neteyam’s back straightened and he closed his eyes, lifting his chin towards the ceiling of the cave. His lips parted as a soft breath left them, and when he opened his eyes to look at you, his pupils took over the amber color of his irises.

His hands reached for your hips, and he pulled you closer to him. You pressed your cheek against his, breathing in every drop of his scent then pulled back and placed kisses all along his face before resting your forehead against his.

His hands rubbed up and down your thighs, up and down your back, and up your neck before resting both of his palms on your jaw, his breath trembling at the overwhelming feeling of finally being yours.

Both of your minds raced with the thoughts of your future together as you both held each other with much love, but then one thought crossed your mind. A thought that had been a plan. A plan for Neteyam to take your virginity.

Suddenly, a soft grunt left Neteyams lips and you pulled off of his forehead and looked into his eyes. You hadn’t even realized you were grinding down on him as his hips desperately grinded back up into you. His thick cock pulsed in his tewng, the feeling of it uncomfortable as it became tighter the harder his cock got. And your wetness soaking through your tewng and soaking his certainly wasn’t helping.

“I want you.” You whispered, and he didn’t say anything. He just looked at you and nodded, then grabbed your thighs, pulling them around his hips before he gently laid you down onto the mat that had been put down just for this reason.

Your hips continued to squirm when he put both of his hands on either side of your head, hovering over you as his braids tickled your face. You reached your hand up and pushed them out of his face, holding all of his braids at the back of his head. With his braids in your hand, you pushed down his head and connected your lips, hungrily kissing him. Though the kisses were slow and passionate, they were full of desperation and desire.

Neteyam pulled his lips off of yours then trailed kisses down your cheek, jaw, and neck where he sucked and bit, littering dark hickies all over your neck. He began to kiss your collarbone, then down the valley between your breasts. He lifted his head a bit and used one hand to take off your seashell top that barely covered anything.

“My beautiful girl,” He whispered when your perky breasts were fully bare. “My muntxate (wife).” His soft words sent shivers to your core, and you were pretty sure your entire tewng was drenched by now.

He kissed around your nipple before attaching his mouth to it, his tongue swirling around it and sucking it, releasing with a ‘pop’ sound before giving your other nipple the same treatment. Your hands gripped onto his hair and small whimpers left your lips as he continued to alternate between your two nipples, your hips rolling against his, earning a sweet sigh when Neteyam lifted himself off of your breasts.

His hand squeezed the soft flesh as he began to trail kisses down your stomach, but stopping when he kissed just below your navel.

“What are you doing?” You asked breathlessly, lifting yourself up with your elbows, curiously looking down at him. He shushed you and his fingers hooked underneath your tewng, tugging it off of you. You lifted your hips to help him, and once your tewng was fully off, it was discarded somewhere in the cave.

He stared down at your glistening pussy, his hungry eyes almost making you close your legs, but he was quick to pull them apart.

You were about to whine, but when he brought his face down to your pussy, your lips were sealed. Well, not really, because when he pressed his nose to your clit, a tiny moan escaped your lips. Your hips jolted and your back fell back down against the mat.

You thought he was going to immediately devour you since every other time he ate you out, that’s what he did, but this time, he didn’t. He just kept his nose pressed to your clit with closed eyes. You could see his tail swishing back and forth behind him, and you furrowed your brow bone.

“Neteyam?” You lifted yourself back up and the sight before you nearly made you cum on the spot.

Neteyam had his nose buried between your folds, and you could hear his deep inhales. Your cheeks heated with embarrassment and you slightly pulled away, but his eyes opened and the fingers that once groped your breasts now gripped your hips, keeping you in place.

“What is it, Ma’Y/N?” He asks in a teasing tone when you whine in frustration, even though he knew damn well what it is. “Tell me what you want.” He whispers, his breath fanning against your hole that clenched desperately around nothing.

When you gave nothing but a whine as a reply, he chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to your clit, making you gasp.

Soon, his tongue licked stripes up and down your cunt, slurping up every last drop of your wetness, allowing whatever he didn’t swallow to drip down his chin and neck. He knew exactly how to make you feel good with just his tongue, and he took pride in that fact.

The only sounds that could be heard were slurping noises, your whimpers, and his moans that vibrated against your pussy.

“Look at me,” He said, his words a bit muffled as he continued to eat you out when he spoke, sucking on your clit. “Look at me while I eat this pussy.”

You lift your head and maintain eye contact with him, his eyes boring into your face as he watches it scrunch up in pleasure. He wanted to glance down at your breasts that jiggled as your chest heaved, but he was too busy staring at you, his beautiful mate who stared back at him like a good girl while he ate your pussy.

Your hips began to squirm more than before, hinting to him that you were close, and he found the strength to pull his mouth off of your intoxicating pussy that tasted so sweet.

You whined and he licked his lips, caressing your thighs as he got up on his knees — still in between your legs. He leaned down and kissed your lips to which you kissed back, tasting yourself, and lifting your hands to tangle into his braids and tug gently.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks in a soft tone, looking down at you to make sure.

“Yes, I’m sure.” You reply, nodding as you look back at him, wrapping your legs around his hips, pulling his clothed cock against your bare pussy. You moaned at the feeling of the entire outline of his cock, and he gasped quietly, his brow bone furrowing and his ears pinning back.

He licked his lips again and then lifted off of you, pulling down his tewng before discarding it in the same place yours was. His hard length immediately stood up, but not all the way due to the heaviness of it.

You had seen his cock before, but never in this light. Before, you had just jerked him off or gave him blow jobs, but now, the thought of him actually being inside you made your mouth water.

You observed every detail of his cock. He had stripes that went up barely an inch of his shaft, his tip was usually a dark blue but now looked more like a dark purple, bioluminescent freckles trailed all over his pretty cock, and he had 1 prominent vein on the underside of his cock.

The tip of his flushed member dripped with pre-cum, and he twitched under your gaze, causing more pre-cum to spill out and drip right onto your pussy. Neteyams fingers wrapped around the bottom of his shaft, and pressed it onto your pussy.

You moaned and bucked your hips up, causing his cock to slide between your folds, giving your clit the right amount of friction.

Then, he brought his leaking tip right to your entrance, and Neteyam leaned over you and kissed you deeply and passionately.

“Tell me to stop, and I will.” He says to you, and you nod, mumbling ‘okay’. He looked down at where you two were about to connect, and then looked back up at you. You nodded and he slowly pushed in the tip.

The stretch was more than his fingers had ever given you, and you hissed, wrapping your arms around his neck. When he could feel your pain through the connection of your kuru’s, he cursed himself for not preparing you with his fingers and being caught up in his own world, but he just pushed in a little more, stopping to look at you.

Your cunt clenched tightly around the tip of his dick, and he moaned, looking down at your gorgeous body fully exposed for him and only him. It took everything in him to not fuck you like he always wanted to when the thought of you only being seen like this by him crossed his mind.

“M-More.” You say, and he pushes into you more, his dick halfway inside of you. When he’s about to push in even more, your hand harshly hits his abdomen. He’s taken aback, but doesn’t react to the hit. He feels your pain through the connection of your souls, so his hips come to an immediate stop.

“Shhh, I got you. You’re okay.” He whispers, breath fanning over your lips.

The feeling of him inside of you was overwhelming and quite frankly painful. You had never had anything this big inside of you, and the stretch of him burned. You whimpered and tears filled your eyes, leaking down your temples as your head rested against the mat, your eyes squeezed shut.

Neteyam leans down and kisses away your tears. “You’re doing so well, mama.” He whispers into your ear, one hand rubbing your inner thigh while the other caresses your cheek, his thumb rubbing back and forth. “Are you okay?”

You nod and let out shaky breaths.

“Try to relax,” He says. “Calm your breathing.. Do you want to stop?” You quickly shake your head.

You try to do as he says, but just as you begin to slow down your breathing, the pain of his cock inside of you melts away and gets replaced with pleasure. This causes your breathing to speed up again.

Your lips part and your brows knit together.

“Neteyam..” You whisper. “Please.” Your pussy flutters around him and your hips grind against him, and he takes that as a sign to move.

He moans and traps your head between his strong arms, his breath fanning over your lips as he grinds into you, slowly moving in and out.

You moan and stare right into his eyes, the level of intimacy making your head foggy.

He presses his chest against yours, and kisses you deeply, pushing his tongue past your lips. Your tongues fight for dominance, the kiss turning into nothing but clashing teeth and tongues.

You moan into each others mouths, hands grabbing and rubbing anything they could find. Your hands found his shoulders, scratching at them before scratching down his back, whereas one of his hands found your boob while the other snaked in between your warm and sweaty bodies to rub your clit.

“Oh, great mother!” You pull away from the kiss and throw your head back, a loud moan bouncing off the walls of the cave. The moan was not only triggered by his fingers rubbing your clit, but at the same time he did that, the tip of his dick hit the opening of your cervix.

He takes this as an opportunity to kiss the dark spots from before, sucking the same spots to make them even darker.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” Neteyam nearly whimpered out his words, trying his best to not cum inside of you. Every single moan that left your lips went straight to his dick. He had never heard you make noises like this before, and the warmth and tightness of your pussy just added to the throbbing of his cock.

“So fucking tight.” He hissed when you clench around him.

He sped up his thrusts, hoping that would bring you closer to cumming because with the way you looked and sounded, he knew he wasn’t going to last long.

You cried out his name when he began to pound into you, and your legs wrapped around his hips, locking your ankles together. You felt a tightness in your lower stomach, and goosebumps form all over your body. “Teyam, ‘m gonna..” You cut yourself off with a moan. “‘m gonna c-cum!”

“Yeah? Cum for me, yawne,” He groaned. “Make a mess on my cock.”

His words had your legs shaking around him, and when you finally gushed all around his cock, your back arched, pushing your boobs against him, and your body trembled beneath him. Your pussy repeated clenched and fluttered around his cock, causing his movements to come to a halt.

“Oh, fuck… oh, fuck, I’m cumming.” He moaned and then toppled over onto you, pressing his forehead between your breasts, whimpering loudly as thick spurts of his warm cum filled you to the brim.

You breath heavily, placing your hands on Neteyams head and stroking his braids.

Once he recovered from the strongest orgasm of his life, he held himself up once again and slowly pulled out. You whined a tiny bit at the feeling of the fullness converting to emptiness.

He lays down next to you and pulls you closely to his body. You turned to lay on your side, looking at him breathlessly.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks, worry in his eyes as he places a hand on your cheek, inspecting every single one of your facial features to see if there was any hint of pain.

You shake your head and place your hand over his. “No, you were perfect.”

He blushes and smiles at you. “So we’re you. You’re so beautiful… I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

You smile back and him and then bring your forehead to his. “I see you.” You say, and he closes his eyes, rubbing your cheek.

“I see you.” He says back in a soft tone, then kisses you gently. “Happy birthday, my love.”

And soon, you two fell asleep, warm bodies still pressed together with your arms and legs wrapped around each other. Your kurus remained connected, and you had a feeling that mating with him would become a common occurrence (not that you had a problem with that.)

Best birthday gift ever.

a/n: this is the longest smut i’ve ever written 😭

but anyways i hope y’all enjoy this 😘

[thebramblewood]

The first meeting of the Vatore Book Club has commenced.

Previous / Next

Helena: Caleb, are you in here? [telepathically] Caleb?

[silence]

[under breath] Where are you? You promised you’d show me more today.

[picking up journal] Hmm. These definitely weren’t here before.

[begins reading]

May 25, 1918: Another night daymare. Same as all the others. Calloused hands squeezing my throat, phantom fists pummeling my stomach, shrill bursts of laughter assailing my ears, sky of taunting stars, blinding white moon, a monstrous form looming over me… Straud insists I should no longer be able to dream. One more bold-faced lie from a man who speaks arrogant, empty words just to hear his own voice - and endlessly, endlessly. I already tire of his dull speeches.

July 10, 1918: The days stretch eternal in this crumbling mansion. I am Straud’s prisoner, though he claims I am free to come and go as I please. Yet he prattles on with excuses as though he does me a favor by denying me. I’ll not be allowed off the grounds until I bend to his will, until I  have suitably mastered discipline. How I loathe that word! I’ll be sick if I hear it once more.

September 8th, 1918: Killed two men last night. Only meant to step out for fresh air but instead found drunken idiot humans stumbling unknowingly across town lines. Their thoughts came to me easily. (So the old man taught me something after all.) Vile and crude remarks on my body, naturally. My vision flashed white with rage, and my body convulsed as if to split in two. Their taste of their blood was exquisite. It’s a funny thing, though. I kept expecting the swell of remorse to arise, but it never did, even when my brother, drawn by the cacophony, flinched away at the sight of my monstrousness, truly frightened of me for the first time. Further reflection is required, but for now I must depart. Straud requires placating.

Helena: [thinking] This is Lilith’s diary?

[flips to final pages]

February 22, 1921: Caleb’s birthday tomorrow. If it passes, he will be 27. He will continue to outpace me in physical age. He will eventually die. I’ve promised it will not. All week, he has been nervously pacing and eerily silent, too afraid to ask the obvious question: Will I truly make him like me? I know how to do it, but thirst remains a constant presence in the back of my throat. I suppose I will take it up with Straud one last time, though he will respond as usual. He believes the gift should be offered only to those who have been deemed worthy. But he grows uncomfortable when I ask how he determined my worthiness. I know he saw me merely as an opportunity, a flimsy young girl in distress who could be easily remolded in his image. I disappoint him every day. We must be free of him soon.

-

Vlad, telepathically: I can still hear every thought that passes through your mind, girl. Your barricades are sloppily constructed. And, no, my position has not changed.

[holdmytesseract]

Hello sweetie!!!

Good to know that you've opened requests because do I have A WONDERFUL request for YOU!

Okay okay, of course for me I'm going to request Loki so here goes...

Loki and Reader are arranged to marry and have never met before (either Reader is a princess or just a lady). The day of the wedding, reader suggests a first touch with her fiance - how could Frigga deny that? So they do it. Then, when they see each other at the altar, it's as if the world stops for them both.

I left it a bit vague so you can expand but I am so excited to see what you make of it! I love you so much and please do DM me if you need something 🫂🥰❤️

~LRM

Marrying a Stranger

Loki Odinson x fem!Princess!Reader

Summary: You are arranged to marry Prince Loki of Asgard. Fear and pre-wedding nerves get the better of you and you can't help but ask Frigga for help. Of course is the good-hearted Queen more than willing to help out...

Warnings: arranged marriage? angst, fluff, sweet Loki

Word Count: 2,5k

a/n: I actually wanted to post a new chapter of 'Through the Years' today, BUT the birthday of my wonderful friend @lady-rose-moon is definitely more important. 🥰 Therefore, I'd like to post this lil' oneshot as a gift. 😊 Again, happy (belated) birthday, friend!

Ps. I'm also incredibly sorry that his took me so long to write... I hope you like it nevertheless! I love you, too! 💚

Tags: @lady-rose-moon @huntress-artemiss @muddyorbsblr @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @chennqingg @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @theaudacitytowrite @jennyggggrrr @asgards-princess-of-mischief @eleniblue @vanilla-daydreaming @loz-3 @valencia-rou @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @bunny24sstuff @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovingchoices14 @linaax @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @glitchquake @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @gruftiela @lulubelle814 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @chantsdemarins @simping-for-marvel @lou12346789 @aagn360 @lokiforever @anukulee @multifandom-worlds (Continuing in the comments!)

Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist

The day had arrived. The day you looked forward to in excitement and anticipation, but also with fear and nervousness. Your wedding. Your arranged wedding, to be precisely.

You were a princess. Only daughter of the king and queen of Vanaheim. And due to the royal blood pumping through your veins, you were not allowed to choose the man you'd marry. The man would be chosen for you. At first, you didn't approve of this and were literally appalled by the mere imagination of marrying a strange man you had never seen before, but your mother and all your tutors had quickly put you in your place.

There was no way out of this - and you had to accept that. It was your fate. Your destiny. The destined path for a princess.

This is not of importance, sweetheart. You don't have to meet your future husband, in order to marry him.

A few centuries ago, when you had reached womanhood, your marriage was arranged and announced within the kingdom. You were bespoken to king Odin's and queen Frigga's youngest son... Prince Loki of Asgard.

Throughout all the years you had never met your betrothed.

That is the man I shall marry?

That was what your mother had answered to your question if you could meet the prince you were going to marry.

So, the topic was off the table. You had been taught to obey your mother, so why would you dare to ever ask her again? The decision was made. No meant no. You only ever heard stories of your future husband... That he was quite special - and not in the good way. Most people spoke of his mischievous and cunning nature. Some even said villainous, brute and rebellious. To hear those words scared you.

You had dreamed of true love and romance. Of being courted and wooed. You dreamed of a sweet, kind man who would treat you like you deserved - and not of a brute who would treat you like his maid. You spent endless sleepless nights within your chambers, thinking about your future with Loki. What if he truly was just a harsh, mischievous scamp? What if your dreams were about to shatter?

And now, suddenly the moment had come...

But then you started to hear other stories of Loki Odinson as well. About how charming and witty he is. How gentlemanly and eloquent. And how utterly handsome he shall look.

You were torn. Torn by every story they told you - and the worst part was that you never got to find out what the truth was and which talk was cheap. At least not until the day you would marry him. It left you a mess.

You were standing in a huge chamber in the royal palace of Asgard. The room bustled with maids, who were preparing everything to get you ready for the wedding ceremony. You nervously fumbled your fingers; constantly tugging at the soft fabric of your wine red dress. Your mother had just left the room along with your father; leaving you and your troubled mind alone.

From the first encounter with Frigga, you could tell that she had a heart of gold. She was so kind and lovely. Perhaps the most good-hearted person you ever met. You got along with your future mother-in-law instantly. She had welcomed you with open arms. And right in that moment, you couldn't picture another way out.

You couldn't deny the anxiety any longer. It hit you full force; realisation dawning on you like the sun... I can't marry a man I never saw in my life.

So, you decided to order a maid to fetch the only person you hoped would be kind enough to help you. Queen Frigga. The Allmother. You and your family had arrived about a week ago and even in that week you never got to see Loki. Only the king and queen. Not the princes.

Frigga gently took your hands in hers and led you over to the bed; sitting down with you. "What is the matter, dear? The fear within you is stronger than your nervousity. I can feel it." You swallowed hard, "I- It's... It's just..." and had to take a deep breath. "I'm afraid of marrying a man I never saw in my life. I-I know that this is not of importance and probably even forbidden, but-" A radiant smile forming on the queen's lips interrupted you. You furrowed your brows; were confused. Even more when she started to chuckle.

Only a few moments passed, before the young maid returned to your chambers; following the queen.

"Y/N, my dear..." She immediately walked up to you. "You called for me?" You just nodded; anxious eyes meeting Frigga's beautiful blue ones. "I-I did. Could we... Could we talk in private?" "Of course!" She reassured you, then clapped her hands twice. "Would you all please leave and give us some privacy?" All the maids stopped in their tasks and immediately rushed to leave your chambers.

"My son requested the exact same. Barely before you called me to your chambers, I sat with Loki and spoke about this with him as well. I guess you are quite similar in that case." She chuckled again and reached for your hand again. You just stared at her; not quite believing what she just said. "I understand you, dear. I couldn't do such a thing either. Back when I had to wed my husband, I demanded to at least see him and share a few sentences with him beforehand as well. It helped me to adapt to the situation I was in. Therefore, I can't deny yours, neither my son's wish." Frigga stood up and offered you her arm. "Come on."

You swallowed hard; feeling your heart beat rapidly against your chest, as you approached the little pavilion.

You blinked; were utterly speechless. You knew Frigga would understand you, but that... That wasn't something you anticipated to happen. Still a bit stunned, you stood up and took her offer. She led you out of your chambers, down several hallways you had never seen before, until you were outside the palace and had reached a beautiful garden. She stopped, nodding towards a small pavilion quite a few meters away, which was surrounded by rose bushes and cherry trees.

"My son is waiting for you in the pavilion." Frigga let go of your arm and gave you a smile. "You have about an hour before the maids will return to get you both ready for the ceremony. Make sure to be back at your chambers by that time." With a wink and a soft pad on your arm, she turned around and left.

Your heart skipped a beat.

Carefully - almost shyly, you peeked around the corner.

A man was standing in the middle of the small pavilion, with his back towards you; hands clasped behind his lower back. You could see that he was wearing a green tunic and black leather boots. Gold accents highlighted his whole outfit.

He had long hair - as black as the feathers of a raven. It fell in soft curls over his shoulders. Your gaze climbed up and down his body. He was tall. Norns, he was so tall - and his hands were big. You could tell. They would swallow yours whole.

"H-Hello?" A dark, smooth and slightly high-pitched voice spoke. "A-Are... Are you Princess Y/N?" You could tell by his voice that he was nervous, too. Probably even afraid - just like you.

You didn't even notice how your mouth fell agape. Or how you made another small step forwards; totally enhanced by the God you saw standing in front of you.

Barely after you set one foot in front of the other, a small twig snapped underneath the weight of your body. You flinched - and the man quickly turned to face you; flinching the slightest bit as well. The gust which was created by Loki's quick spin was sent directly into your direction and no second later, his scent hit you; invaded your nostrils... Leather, something dark and musky, charred wood and a slight hint of mint and something fruity. It smelled so rich, so divine, but also so addictive and cosy. You almost fainted.

You needed a moment to get yourself together. "Y-Yes, I-" Your words faded into a gasp as your eyes met his for the first time ever. He had the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen. Blue like water and as deep as the oceans. They held so many emotions. Nervousity and fear, but also curiosity and excitement. But above all kindness - the same kindness which sparkled within his mother's eyes.

Loki smiled and took a few cautious steps towards you. "It is my utmost pleasure to meet you, my princess." He gathered a bit of his bravery and hesitatingly reached for your hand, taking it gently in his. With a soft bow, he bestowed a small kiss upon your knuckles; soft, smooth lips brushing against your cold skin. A shudder rippled through you.

"The- The pleasure is a-all mine, my prince." You more or less stammered out, now utterly distracted by his chiselled facial features. High cheekbones, sharp jawline and a perfectly shaped nose. Norns, you thought. He looks like carved out of marble.

Loki gave you a smile. "Thank you for agreeing to this little... secret meeting. I-I just had to see you before the ceremony, I-" You gave his hand - which still enveloped yours a soft squeeze. "I know. I felt the same way." A nervous chuckle left his lips, followed by an even bigger smile. "That makes this situation so much easier..." You reciprocated his smile. "Indeed, my prince."

You took a seat on the small, cosy bench and decided to use the time you had left to talk and get to know each other at least a little bit, before you'd become husband and wife. It was exactly what you - and Loki needed. But especially, it calmed your fears of marrying a brute, despiteful man. They had been wrong... Oh so wrong. Loki was not like that. He was like you hoped he'd be. Kind, gentlemanly, sweet - and utterly romantic. His heart may be battered and bruised, but you could feel that this man would do everything to be a good, loving husband for you.

The hour flew by way too fast; within the blink of an eye and soon it was time to part ways - for now.

"Thank you, my pri-" "Loki. Please... It's Loki for you." That made you blush even more - if that was even possible. "Thank you, Loki." You smiled. "I can't believe I'm going to be wed to such a handsome, polite and sweet man either."

"Again... Thank you for agreeing to this." Loki said; voice soft. You shook your head. "No need to thank me. I wanted this, too, you know..."

Silence settled over the both of you, until he let out a soft, breathy chuckle. "I can't believe I'm marrying such a beautiful, kind-hearted woman in barely a few hours." You blushed in the darkest shades of crimson at his words; suppressing a girlish giggle to slip past your lips.

That caused Loki to blush.

A nervous chuckle bubbled from deep within his chest. "Thank you-" "Y/N." You interrupted him. "Y/N." The way he rolled his name off your tongue almost send you into another dimension - you were sure of it.

His words hit you straight into your heart. You could swear it was aflame by now, burning for this man you knew so little, but were going to wed in a few hours.

"Are you still nervous?" Loki asked then; eyes soft. You nodded. "Y-Yes, I- I'm afraid it's going to get worse..." You giggled nervously; desperately trying to play it cool, but failing.

He took your hand in his again; gently caressing the back of your hand with his thumb. "I know this is normal. I-I am nervous, too, but... Please don't worry. You are not alone in this. I'll be there - and I won't ever let go of you."

You took deep breaths; smiling brightly. Now you could say that you were really looking forward towards your wedding. For the first time in centuries.

"T-Thank you. That is really reassuring to know. I-I won't let go either." Loki smiled, "That's good to know, my darling." and leaned in for a delicate, small peck on your lips. It was gentle and barely lasting - but it felt so right. So good.

Before you were able to answer something, his hand slipped from yours as he was passing you by; stepping out of the pavilion and out of your sight.

"You look beautiful, sweetheart." Your mother said with tears in her eyes. She placed her pointer finger underneath your chin. "It's time for you to enter the next chapter of your life. A lot is going to change, I know - but your whole life was spent preparing you for exactly that moment. You're a strong woman, Y/N. Never doubt that. And Loki is going to be a wonderful husband. He's the perfect match."

By now, you had to fight off the tears as well.

Your mother leaned in and placed a lingering kiss on your forehead. "I'm so proud of you, just like your father. I love you." You smiled; swallowing hard to get rid of the lump in your throat. "Thank you, mama. I love you, too." She gave you a loving, motherly smile and left to sit with the other wedding attendants.

You took a deep breath and with the sounds of the fanfare, you stepped through the golden doors and slowly walked down the red carpet towards Loki - who stood at the altar; dressed in his ceremonial armour, waiting for your arrival.

All eyes were on you, but you only had eyes for your prince.

When his eyes landed on you, they widened immediately; his mouth falling agape. He watched how your wedding dress swayed softly with each step you took.

She looks absolutely beautiful, he thought; feeling his heart beating rapidly against his chest.

It was all you needed in that moment.

You walked slowly, gracefully - like you've been taught. It felt like an eternity, until you finally reached him.

Loki immediately stretched out his hands for you to lay yours in his - and you did. The moment you touched, it felt like you could finally breathe normal again. His skin was so soft and warm; giving you the feeling of warmth and comfort. For you, his touch was a safe haven. He was anchoring you; preventing you to get lost in the sea of no-man's-land.

You looked up. His endless blue eyes met yours for the second time - and time seems to stand still around you. In that moment, it was only you and him.

You smiled and finally weren’t afraid anymore of the future. Not if it involved the man right in front of you.

[queenimmadolla]

𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃

(dad!eddie x mom/pregnant!reader)

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟏 ─ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐 ─ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑 • more of the pennyverse here.

Summary: . . . Under a raging storm, your difficult pregnancy comes to an end. And so might you. warnings: angst, a whole lot of angst, near death experience, difficult pregnancy, early labor, preterm birth, talk of loss of infants, birth defects, happy ending.

a/n: sorry I have to post this in parts, Wayne's World ended up being over 16k, so I split it up in three. part one's word count is 5.3k. this was a real labor of love and i hope you love baby wayne as much as i do. and for the people mad about the long post, sorry, had the 'keep reading' tab on but it kept fucking with the format and eating chunks of it. you're gonna have to scroll. let me know what you think? ◡̈

“Do you have a queen of hearts?” “Go fish.” You grumbled as Wayne reached forward, lifting–but making sure not to catch a look of the other side–a card from the deck to hand you. Your frown deepened when it wasn’t a pair for any of the cards you already had. “Nuts,” you mumbled, eyes darting to all the pairs Wayne had matched up on the small living room table, then down to the four pairs you had placed over your bulging stomach. It was risky of you to keep them there so late in your pregnancy considering how active your baby was but you didn’t feel like reaching too far for them, regardless of the fact that his kicks had sent them sliding down your sides twice now.

You’d been playing card games with Wayne for the past hour and a half, the raging storm having knocked out the power for the entire park. Eddie was with your friends, no doubt trapped at the pizza place Lucas’ parents had booked to celebrate his birthday. His actual birthday had been a couple of days prior but the Hellfire session that would have celebrated it had been canceled; you weren’t feeling too good and Eddie had stayed faithfully by your side. You hadn’t been feeling all that great when you’d woken up today, either. You’d forced Eddie to go, refusing to let Lucas down again even though you knew he’d understand. He was a sweetheart. So, Eddie had reluctantly gone, taking Penny with him.

The storm had come out of nowhere, you’d woken to a lovely day but you wouldn’t know it from how dark the sky had grown; the sun having been blocked by heavy rain clouds. 

Despite practically living at his girlfriend’s, just a couple of trailers down, Wayne had rushed over to make sure you were okay and to keep you company. You’d been watching an Indiana Jones movie and talking to Wayne about the apartments you and Eddie were looking at when the power went out but Wayne–always practical and level headed–pulled out some candles you’d accrued and a deck of cards he had remembered he stashed in one of the kitchen drawers to keep you amused.

You’d lost just about every game. Clearly, Wayne wasn’t going to let you win just because you were pregnant like Eddie did.

“This ain’t even one of them bettin’ games. How’re you still losin’?” Wayne chuckled, taking a sip of the tea (powdered, of course) you’d served him. 

  “Just my luck, I guess.” Wayne was referring to the game of Poker you’d played earlier. Unfortunately, you didn’t know how to play. While he taught you a little along the way, you’d still obviously lost and you were positive you retained absolutely no knowledge regarding the game.

Sensing your frustration, Wayne leaned forward from his place on the recliner he’d dragged to the otherside of the small table and placed his cards down, settling back into the chair with his old man creaky noises that you’d grown comfortable with him enough to tease him about (and always made up for with a sweet kiss to his head).

  “What say you an’ I just talk, hm?”

That was fine with you. You gathered the cards on your baby bump, tossing them onto the table alongside his, “Eddie won’t let me name the baby after him.”

“Really?” Wayne asked, eyebrows furrowed in a brief moment of confusion. He’d expected his eccentric nephew to want to leave behind some sort of legacy, nothing better than a child.

  “He’s playing devil’s advocate, shooting down every name I come up with but never giving his input, I’m starting to think we’ll have to just put names in a cup and pick one after I have him.” You slumped further into the couch, pouting through your exhaustion.

  “Now that sounds like ‘im,” Wayne scoffed, raising the mug to his lips once more before he really took in your appearance. 

  You looked beyond exhausted, skin dull, dark circles around your eyes and you lacked the spark always attached to your personality. You didn’t just look miserable, you looked sick.

  The mug was placed back on the table as he regarded you with concern, “You alright, darlin’? Don’t look so good.”

  You gave him a tight lipped smile that didn’t reach your eyes, hands settling to rest on your protruding tummy, “I’m okay, really, Wayne. I’m just very tired. I’ve had high blood pressure for the last couple of months, so the doctor says I’m considered high risk.”

  You had a doctor’s appointment earlier this week—with another one scheduled for tomorrow afternoon—and she’d also told you to do your best to relax, not to move around a lot and not worry too much about it, or it could get worse, so you added, “I just have to take it easy. Being tired just comes with it.”

  Wayne didn’t think it was right, if you were taking it easy, you shouldn’t have been so exhausted. Tired, he could understand but you looked beyond that.

  “Why don’t we get you into bed?”

  You nodded, agreeing only because you wanted to let him get back to Maude. Wayne moved around the table, offering you his hands to help pull yourself up. It was pitiful, your stomach wasn’t even that big but you were significantly weaker this pregnancy compared to when you’d been pregnant with Penny. 

  You slipped your hands into his, groaning as he pulled you up.

  “Lil’ man’s got you making old man noises, too,” He joked, referring to the grunts he’d make when he stood up with creaking bones for which you’d tease him.

  You laughed, small but genuine as you placed your hands on your lower back and stretched, “Alright, alright. You’re not wrong but I’ll remember this.”

  Wayne chuckled at your response, hand on your shoulder ready to guide you to your bedroom. He had no intentions of leaving the trailer, planning on camping out on the couch or the pullout that was still tucked into the corner until Eddie returned.

  You’d just managed to get your back to pop in the most satisfying of ways when you felt a bit of pressure between your legs—like you really needed to pee—followed by a rush of liquid.

  “Oh, fuck,” you mumbled, eyes squeezing shut to keep the mortification of having just pissed yourself in front of your father-in-law at bay, “I am so sorry, Wayne, I didn’t even know I had to… to…”

  You trailed off, staring down at the wet patch of carpet surrounding your feet. There was no noticeable urine smell, but what really concerned you was the red mixed into it, staining the fibers of the carpet.

  “Wayne…” Your voice was so small as you reached around you to hold your stomach, as if you could somehow protect your baby.

  Wayne saw it too, eyes wide and horrified when he’d realized your water had broken.

  “New plan: let’s get you to the hospital.” He tried to urge you forward but you wouldn’t budge, trembling in his hold.

  “I—I can’t,” you stated, voice hitching and laced with fear as you finally turned your head to look up at him. Wayne could see the terror in your eyes, the panic and the shine to them. Everything he was feeling inside, too, he just knew he had to keep it together for your sake. “I’m barely 30 weeks, he’s too early, he has to stay in there!”

  You were nearly hyperventilating, head pounding as horrible thoughts raced through your head. Your hands moved frantically over your belly, trying to feel a kick from your baby. When was the last time you felt him being active? Was he okay? Why was he being so still? Why did your water break so early and why was there blood in it? And what the hell was that loud pounding sound? It was your heartbeat.

  “Hey—‘member wha’ you told me earlier? ‘Bout what the doctor said? You gotta take it easy, right?” Wayne was panicking just as much as you but he knew he had to keep you calm, had to reassure you. 

  You swallowed hard, tears welling in your eyes as you nodded, following up with a watery confession, “Yeah. But I’m scared.”

  “Thas’ okay,” he stated, recalling a time he’d said the same thing to another scared mother-to-be just hours before Eddie had been born. “We’re gonna get you to the hospital and they’re gon’ take real good care of you. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

  For once, Wayne Munson’s eyes were easy for you to read, you could see the sincerity of them, the certainty and despite the fear still coursing through you, you believed him. 

  Finally, you moved and Wayne sprang into action, asking you the whereabouts of your coat, if you’d had a hospital bag prepped—which thanks to Eddie’s paranoia, you did—before he’d actually carried you through the heavy rain, out to the car. You’d been surprised, hadn’t expected Wayne to be that strong since he was more so on the gangly side.

  He’d ensured you were buckled in, made a last run into the house to make sure the candles were out before the two of you were braving the storm.

  It was a rough drive; Wayne was speeding but it wasn’t enough, the pushback from the wind made it seem like he was going uphill, losing speed rather than gaining it. The windshield wipers on his truck were working overtime to clear the constant stream of water from his view.

  You were faring no better, feeling weaker and more fatigued by the minute. Despite the cold weather, your skin became coated in a layer of sweat, though you were by no means hot. You couldn’t even register your own body temperature, too out of it as your forehead pressed against the cool glass of the window. 

  “We’re almost there,” Wayne promised, glancing nervously at your slumping figure. He was scared out of his mind now that he knew you weren’t just sick. Wayne Munson was afraid you were dying before his eyes.

  You stirred just as he was a few turns away from the hospital, face scrunching into a frown as you whimpered. Wayne thought you may have been in pain, he was wrong. You were hit with an intense need to push and you did, once and hard.

  The dull thud of something hitting the floor mats was somehow louder to the two of you than the raging storm. Wayne glanced away from the road and inhaled sharply when he watched you look down at the unnaturally pale baby, the only color on his skin was that of some of your blood.

  You reached down and picked up the smaller than normal baby, cradling him to your chest as you stared at his face. It was all squished up, and his eyes were closed, lips turning blue. He wasn’t breathing. 

  You turned him over, belly down in your hold as you patted his back. As you grew more anxious and fearful, you pinched the bottom of his tiny, soft foot and while he didn’t cry, he finally moved in your hold, his back expanding with his breath. A sign of life.

  The relief you felt was short lasting, your fatigue returning full force as Wayne pulled up the emergency entrance. Two staff members ran to the truck, approaching as their rain ponchos danced wildly in the wind. 

  “Sir, are either of you injured?” One of them, a woman asked before peering into the passenger window. At the sight of you, clutching the baby still connected to you via umbilical cord, the door was yanked open and she bellowed for a gurney which her partner sprinted to collect. 

  Wayne didn’t bother moving his truck, it was towards the end of the entrance, anyways. He hurried out and followed as they loaded you and the baby onto the gurney, running alongside as they wheeled you in. 

  You were trying so hard to stay conscious, trying to ignore the sweet allure of closing your eyes for a few moments of rest. The doctors and nurses around you were all barking orders to each other with a couple trying to talk to you but you couldn’t focus enough to know what they were saying.

  Once Wayne saw what operating room they were carting you off to, he ran to the nearest desk, asked for use of the phone and phone book. Once he’d placed the call to the pizza place, relieved the lines were finally going through again, he’d had a staff member search for Eddie. It hadn’t been easy hurriedly explaining to him what happened, but judging by how quick Eddie had ended the call, it was only a matter of minutes before his nephew turned up.

  Then Wayne ran to the area he’d seen them take you too, hurriedly dressing in a gown, a cap and mask one of the staff had shoved into his arms. They were still prepping you when they finally allowed him in and you were no longer holding the baby. He was in the arms of a nurse, still connected to you with his umbilical cord. 

  “Would you like to cut it?” She hurriedly asked, offering him a pair of surgical scissors. Wayne figured he was a better option than a doctor severing your connection so he did as instructed. She immediately carried him away and out of the room in a rush.

  “Where’s she taking ‘im?” He asked, voice full of worry. 

  “Neonatal Intensive Care Unit,” He was informed by another nurse who was setting up a barrier over your lower half, “He was born preterm.” 

  Wayne was somewhat familiar with it; he remembers Penny had briefly been sent there when she’d been born and suspected to have jaundice. After a few hours of whatever treatment, she was returned to you and Eddie, having a not very severe case of it which had been treated effectively.

  Wayne thought the whole process would be faster, he’d seen people rushed into surgeries in the movies and it had been instant but it wasn’t like that. They were still running around, setting everything up and new people kept coming into the room. It took more than ten minutes, but they were doing their best to keep you stabilized. He was holding your hand the entire time, squeezing every once in a while so you’d squeeze back and he’d know you were okay.

  You weren’t very vocal, eyes half lidded as they pumped you full of drugs to try to counter your symptoms and numb you.

  “‘M gonna check to see if Eddie’s here, alright?” He waited for your response, a very weak and monotonous okay before he gave your hand a final squeeze and let a nurse know he’d be checking to see if the father had arrived.

  He’d made it out of the operating room doors and was hurrying down the hallway, just about to breach another pair of large doors when they swung open and he had to jump back to avoid being hit. 

  “LORD!” He shouted and Eddie cursed, muttering a quick apology.

  “Where is she?” He panted out, chest heaving, eyes wild and frantic. Eddie’s hair was in disarray from having run his hands through it so many times as he sped to the hospital. He looked like the personification of panic, a mess.

  “Through them doors,” Wayne pointed in the direction he’d come from before yanking some of the sanitation wear off a nearby rack. “Put these on ‘fore you go in there. Where’s Penny?”

  Eddie was hurriedly yanking the scrubs over his clothes, “She’s in the waiting room.” 

  He clutched Wayne’s shoulder, wanting to thank him but desperate to get to you before he made a run for the room Wayne had directed him to while Wayne hurried to the waiting room, expecting Penny to be in the care of a nurse.

  He breached the doors and stood shell shocked at the amount of people who jumped to attention, faces filled with varying degrees of worry, anguish and fear; it was all of your friends, familiar faces he’d seen in the trailer before at one point or another. Penny’s curly head was visible from the arms of a tall redhead, wearing glasses.

  It seemed the entire party occupying the pizza parlor had filled the hospital waiting room, concerned about your wellbeing. 

  The sight nearly brought Wayne to tears.

  You could make out the sound of various monitors beeping, eyes trying to focus on the ceiling above you but everything was so hazy. You no longer felt fatigued, couldn’t really feel anything. A nurse had tried to check in with you earlier, get your attention but you couldn’t even hold a conversation.

  You felt a hand slip into yours again, and you squeezed it, turning your head to look at Wayne. Only, it wasn’t Wayne looking back at you. Eddie’s piercing brown gaze was easy for you to make out through the haze, and you were even able to smile.

  “Eddie.” You spoke it so softly but Eddie was still relieved, lowering his mask so he could press a kiss to your head.

  “Hi, baby,” he croaked out, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes as he stroked the side of your face. 

  “Dad’s here,” one of the doctor’s greeted him. Eddie recognized her as your primary Obstetrician, Dr. Eisenerg, the same doctor you had all your appointments with and the same who had delivered Penny. “Would you like the rundown?”

  “Please.”

   “Pre-eclampsia, I suspected as much during our last appointment, the next step would have been Bed Rest starting with tomorrow’s appointment, but baby couldn’t wait that long, could he, mom?”

  Eddie watched as you slowly shook your head, smile on your face because you were happy he was with you.

  “He was born nine weeks early, out of the hospital so unfortunately I don’t know his stats at the moment, he’s being looked over and assessed as I speak. He’s in good hands. I’ll have more information about him for you as soon as we get mom settled. We’re performing a Cesarean section to get the placenta out, she’s much too weak to push it out on her own.”

  God, Eddie loved your doctor. He’d write rock ballads in her honor for knowing exactly what to say to calm his ass down. After that, Eddie focused on you, trying not to pay attention to what was going on behind the cover they’d put up.

  “You sure know how to scare the hell out of me, baby,” he mumbled, eyes crinkling as he smiled under the mask, caressing your pretty face again. He’d never felt more fear in his entire life than when Wayne had spoken to him over the phone, informing him you’d had the baby early and they were taking you into surgery.

  You smiled and Eddie chuckled at the doped up expression on your face. He hadn’t seen it on you in months. You had to be high as a kite. 

  “Sorry, Eddie.”

  “It’s okay.” He pulled his mask down to press a brief kiss to your lips which you happily returned. “After you’re out of here, I’ll go check on our little dude, okay?”

  You nodded, reassured by Eddie that everything would be alright. You trusted him. Trusted him to let him know something you hadn’t yet voiced.

  “I’m tired, Eddie.”

  You slurred it so low, Eddie hadn’t caught it. “What was that, sweetheart?” 

  You didn’t answer him, eyes fluttering shut as multiple monitors began to beep, one at a higher rate and one much slower than the rest.

  “She’s hemorrhaging,” Dr. Eisenberg informed her staff, and Eddie paled. He’d heard that in enough hospital movies and shows to know it wasn’t good. The relief he’d momentarily felt fled from his body, quickly replaced by dread.

  He watched the movement around him, people shouting medical terms he couldn’t understand. He made the mistake of peering around the cover to address your doctor, horrified at the amount of blood on her gloves and the sleeves of her gown.

  Was that all yours?

  “What’s happening?” He demanded, breath hitching around the last word. 

  She didn’t look up at him, asking one of the attendings to escort him out. 

  Eddie called your name, over and over again as he was pushed out of the room, fighting to keep you in his line of vision. Your face, too peaceful looking to be resting, was the last thing he saw before the doors shut in his face.

  He’d made it back to the waiting room on autopilot, collapsing into the free chair next to Wayne, who was now holding Penny. When he’d first walked in, it looked like everyone wanted to bombard him with questions, the look on his face must have stopped them.

  He sat in that uncomfortable hospital chair, gaze unfocused and watery as he stared at nothing, the image of you on the operating table, eyes shut and appearing lifeless replayed in his head over and over and over again, torturing him.

  He had no idea how long he was in a catatonic state, only forced out of it when he registered a firm grip on his shoulder, shaking him.

  Wayne had been trying to get his attention since the moment a doctor called for him near the entrance of the hallway.

  Eddie snapped up, catching sight of the small woman, lightning fast and nearly tripping over himself trying to reach her, desperate for any news on your status. You were going to be okay, right? You had to be.

  “Edward Munson?” She asked.

  Eddie nodded, swallowing hard as he tried to find his voice, his throat was dry, felt like it was made of sandpaper when he cleared his throat, “Y-yes.”

  “I’m Doctor Houseman, Cardiothoracic surgeon, your son is one of my patients.”

  Right away, Eddie felt a sense of dread ooze over him, thick, heavy and suffocating like tar.

  “Your son’s limbs, most of his organs and responses are developing well. Ten toes, ten fingers and he can hear fine. His sight is a little sensitive, but should improve rapidly as should his growth. We are, however, concerned about his heart.”

  Eddie was sure he’d left his heart in that room with you, yet he still felt something in him plummet.

  “He has what’s known as VSD: Ventricular Septal Defect. A hole in the wall of his heart. It’s one of the more common heart defects at birth, normally the hole can close up on its own, be treated with medications or, if necessary, surgery. Because of his premature birth and how weak his body still is, he may not respond well to the medication and the odds of him surviving a surgery are low.”

  He felt the bitter taste of bile rise in the back of his throat.

  “We’d like to keep him for an extended stay in the NICU, let the hole try to close on its own. It still may be too much for him, but it’s his best bet.”

  Eddie squeezed his eyes shut at the first hot sting of tears, desperately trying to hold it together.

  It appeared today would be the day Eddie Munson’s world was due to come to an end, he knew he must have looked pitiful; a red-eyed, pale, clammy, crying mess on the verge of a nervous breakdown. You were lying on some operating table, bleeding out and now his son’s heart could possibly stop on him. Eddie’s was broken. He was broken.

  He sniffled, inhaling deeply before he forced his eyes back open, tears immediately cascading down his cheeks as he nodded and agreed with her plan.

  Dr. Houseman regarded him with sympathetic eyes.

   “Mr. Munson, I don’t believe in miracles. I used to be a general surgeon,” she started, “And then one day, my longtime boyfriend took me out for a night on the town, dancing. He had a heart attack that night, I spent the four hours in that waiting room thinking he was going to die. I’m not religious, but I prayed and I prayed he wouldn’t die. He did. 

  “I switched my practice, to see if I could save others from the same fate. Some I did, some were simply beyond anyone’s reach. Then one day, they brought in a little girl. Tiny thing, frail, six years old, the size of a four year old and she’d had a heart attack. I was sure she wouldn’t make it, tried like hell to save her but sometimes the circumstances just don’t work out in our favor and her body shouldn’t have been strong enough. But it was. She pulled through and she survived. I don’t believe in miracles, Mr. Munson, but she did teach me to have more faith in my patients. The same faith they have in me. Have faith in your son.”

  Then she was gone, whirling out the doors she’d come from. Eddie stared at them, wondering if she was on her way to tend to his baby. It wasn’t fair, he hadn’t even gotten to live yet, wasn’t even a day old and he was fighting for his life.

  Eddie felt Wayne’s firm grip on his shoulder and he turned around, briefly staring into his sorrow filled eyes before he collapsed into his arms and sobbed, shaking with each one that wrecked through his body.

  Wayne held him like he did when he was younger, when Eddie had finally come out of his room and let Wayne comfort him over the bullying he’d faced and the nasty things the other children had said about him, about the family he came from.

  Eddie cried and he didn’t care his friends were most likely watching him, he couldn’t hold it together anymore. Not when there was a chance he could lose his son. Not when he could lose you.

  “I can’t do it on my own,” he sobbed out against Wayne’s shoulder. How was he supposed to care for Penny without you? His family wouldn’t be complete, it’d be fractured, it would be broken. And if—it made him sick to know it was only a possibility and not a certainty—he took his son home, how was he supposed to raise him without you? What would he tell them? His son would be too young to remember, but Penny would. She’d miss you so much, he’d miss you so much. “I can’t, Wayne! I need her! She can’t leave me, I need her!”

  The statement triggered a worrisome thought process, what if you did leave him? When was the last time he said he loved you? You knew it, right? You had to know, he told you all the time but no matter how hard he tried to recall it, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d said he loved you and it made him sob harder.

  Wayne’s arms tightened around him, eyes clenching shut at the agony his boy was feeling. He was hurting too, he’d been in this position before. He’d lost her. Wayne couldn’t let Eddie believe he’d lose you, too. Couldn’t let him think he’d ever have to raise his family alone.

  “She ain’t going nowhere,” he forced out, throat thick with emotion. He was trying to believe it just as much as he hoped Eddie would. “It’s gonna be okay. She’s gonna be okay. They both are.”

  Wayne held him until Eddie stopped shaking and his sobs had subsided. Even then, he hadn’t wanted to let him go, wanted to protect him. But Eddie had his own kid to protect.

  He wiped at his face, taking a couple of shaky breaths. He wasn't okay, far from, but his broken heart was aching for someone he knew would manage to hold the pieces together without even trying, simply by existing. 

  He gave Wayne a brief, grateful smile that didn’t meet his eyes and walked over to Barb, his daughter curled up in her arms. He obviously hadn’t told Penny what was going on, as far as she knew, they had just been going to the hospital because her baby brother had been born.

  Her excitement quickly turned to exhaustion while her dad had been in the delivery room with her mom and she’d stopped running around to sleep in her grandpa’s lap. She’d been knocked out while Eddie was catatonic and had evidently slept through his hysterics, having been passed back to Barb when Wayne got up to comfort Eddie.

  He was relieved she hadn’t seen him like that.

  It was selfish of him, but Eddie woke her up, pulling her out of Barb’s arms and into his own.

  She stirred, raising her head briefly to look at Eddie with sleep heavy eyes, squinting before she nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck. Then, as if she remembered the reason for their hospital visit, she pulled away, an arm lazily resting over his shoulder.

  “Daddy?” She asked through a yawn, lips stretching into a plump ‘o’ before she smacked them together. 

  “Hi, baby,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her crown and nuzzling his face into her curls, the pleasant smell of her sweet strawberry scented shampoo filling his nostrils. Her scent was comforting. 

  “Ganpa says the stoke came.”

  Stork. While Penny knew her baby brother was growing in her mommy’s belly, she also simultaneously believed a stork would be dropping him off, prompted by a number of childrens’ books and cartoons. 

  Eddie had tried asking her about her logic once and she’d made him feel thoroughly stupid for not understanding.

  “Yeah, it did.”

  Penny shook her head, something Eddie noticed she did when she was trying to wake up. You did the same thing, shaking your head whenever you were nodding off. 

  His heart clenched.

  “I see my baby brudder now?”

  For a moment, Eddie struggled to come up with a reply. He didn’t want to tell her the full truth, she was still just a baby herself. He didn’t want to lie to her, either, but he needed to protect her.

  “Soon, sweet pea.” 

  She seemed satisfied with that answer, curling up against his chest as he moved back to sit in the chair he’d been occupying before Dr. Houseman called on him. She quickly made herself comfy in his lap, little fingers pulling at the blue material of the scrub top he still wore.  

  “Know what, daddy?”

  Eddie hummed, stroking his hand through her soft curls, letting them wrap around his finger tips and twisting the ends. They were still short, not long or heavy enough to be weighed down so it still looked like she had the Annie hairdo. She was so adorable, it drove him crazy.

  “He looks like a ‘tato.”

  Eddie stilled, brows furrowing down at her in confusion. 

  “What?”

  “He looks like a potato,” she repeated, matter of factly, “Ganpa says.”

  Eddie’s eyes darted over to Wayne in the seat next to him. 

  “She wanted a description. You try comin’ up with somethin’.” Wayne had only gotten a brief look at the baby, he’d been almost unnaturally pale and covered in something that looked chalky and pasty. Reminded him of how potatoes look after being washed and air dried so it was the first thing that came to mind.

  Eddie highly doubted a potato was tucked into an incubator in the NICU.

  “I don’t think he looks like a potato, sweet pea.”

  “No,” Is all she said, resting her head against his chest and effectively smashing the curls he’d been messing with there. She wasn’t agreeing with him and Eddie knew it. She meant no, you’re wrong.

  He snorted, blinking harshly at how sore his swollen eyelids were. 

  “Alright, potato he is.”

  Penny didn’t know it and maybe in the future Eddie would tell her, she was getting him through this. His anxiety and panic had not left him, but it was easier to focus on a little light when it was curled up in his lap, telling him all about her baby brother she had yet to meet, with certainty they soon would.

[arminsumi]

it's the hair.

𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟 ⋅ fem reader

NOTE: lol this is just a dum fluff drabble i wrote instead of studying

SUMMARY — your childhood friend and classmate satoru positively kills you with his new haircut. but he misunderstands your reactions and behaviors, thinking he did something wrong.

WARNINGS — lowercase used, not proofread, misunderstandings between u n gojo, angst if you squint ??

WORDCOUNT ≈ 1.3k

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

you've been eyeing out gojo all day. he's not sure what to make of your expression — it's something mixed between comical worry and genuine distress.

"what? what is it?" he keeps asking you each time you give him the side eye look-over. "do i have something on my face?"

"no. it's nothing." you reply curtly.

he squints skeptically at you.

from class to class, he ponders alongside suguru. did he say something? were you mad at him? was it because he stole your soda from the vending machine yesterday? but he always does that, so why would you be mad now? maybe you were just not feeling well? did you not sleep well?

and suguru's ears flooded with all these theories.

"did i say something to y/n? she's acting strange today."

his best friend stifles a smirk. "dunno, did you?"

"i think she's mad at me. was it because i stole her soda? but y'know it's not my fault we like the same soda! and i promised to buy one for her next time!"

suguru now lowers his head into his arms, resting on the desk, trying so hard to keep his laughter in.

"maybe it's the weather — probably the flu — yeah, definitely the flu. i'll go get something for y/n at the store, d'you need anything, suguru? what! what are you laughing at!"

"nothing, nothing. i don't need anything from the store, thanks — unless maybe something spicy that catches your eye. 'better run quick, store's gonna close soon."

satoru furrows his brows in confusion, and eventually his entire expression becomes serious, like an old philosopher in deep thought about the universe. but it's not the abyssal void beyond the stratosphere that's in his thoughts, no, it's you — you're pervading his entire mind as he walks across the roads of tokyo, to the station, and boards the train.

holding onto the handles as it shudders and sways, shoulders taught as they always are when he's in thought. were you really sick? what if he did something bad? maybe it was nothing at all, and he was just overthinking it. maybe it didn't even involve him. did it have to do with suguru? or perhaps you were upset about something in the past, something irrational and long-forgotten, like the fact that he didn't attend your 7th birthday party. it's not like he had a choice, his parents barely allowed him to visit your side because they didn't want their prodigy son hanging out with...

he texts you.

satoru — are u home yet

he stares and waits for you to come online, then watches as those three dots move up and down and you start typing.

you — no why

satoru — where are u

you — bridge

satoru — what are u doing

you — lol so many questions

you — the sunset looks rlly good today i'm taking pics

satoru — wtf without me??

you — lol sorry didn't think u wanted to waste ur time watching the sunset

satoru — see u there

he's just boarding off the train, coming through its doors, when he texts you that. thank the benefit of his long legs for speeding to the store in time before it closes. he picks up your favorite.

when you see him come into view, you're waiting with your arms draped around the railing of the bridge.

"trying out for the track team?" you laugh, as he practically runs up to you. "did you run this whole way?"

he's catching his breath, clutching a plastic bag of goodies.

"are you sick?" he asks.

"what? no?"

"i thought you might have the flu." he's asking with genuine concern, it's bizarre. he usually doesn't talk like this unless he knows he's in trouble with you, or if something's really wrong.

"i'm fine." you blink, "i've just been watching the sunset. you missed the best part."

"i didn't know you enjoyed sunsets."

"why didn't you invite me!" he groans, coming over to assume an oddly attractive position by the railing. he slacks against the metal, leaning his weight on it. he lets the plastic bag with yours and suguru's favorites in it thud to the ground.

the cityscape is so pretty, and yet he's still prettier, you think.

"i don't care for them." he admits, "but of course i'll enjoy a sunset if you're watching it with me."

you look at him. he's not even facing the sunset. was something on his mind? you can hardly theorize, because you're giving him that peculiar look again.

he catches you looking at him, "what!"

"what?"

"did i do something wrong?" his breath is stable now, "are you mad at me?"

"no? why d'you think I'm mad at you?" you ask confusedly.

"because you keep lookin' at me like that!"

"like what?" you feel your cheeks warm up.

"like something about me is offensive to your eyes."

you break out laughing. "no! i'm not — it's not — you misunderstand me, like always..."

"what the hell?" he whines, "is it nothing serious? i've been worried. you've been looking at me weird since sunday and — oh... OH MY GOD."

you giggle, chin pressing on the railing. "did you just realize something?"

"is it the haircut!"

"it's the haircut."

"why do you not like it!" he fumes, that familiar satoru playfulness coming back now as he was put at ease knowing he didn't upset you. "you know it cost a lot, 'n i styled it and everything."

"i didn't say i didn't like it! it's the opposite."

"so you like it? then why do you look at me like you're having an internal crisis?"

you groan, "because you're giving me a crisis! you know i'm weak for undercuts!"

he shuts up. his heart races a bit. oh, so he misunderstood you not a little bit but entirely. oops. now why didn't he realize that his haircut would have this effect on you? when he subconsciously went to get an undercut because you mentioned you liked them in passing one school afternoon.

"oh."

"you're so dumb, satoru."

"well sorry!" he rolls his eyes.

now there's silence. he stops leaning his back against the railing and turns to face the final stages of the sunset. the streetlights come on, one is gleaming not too far from you two. it casts a dreamy light on his hair.

it really is a good cut, and it's styled in such a way that... well it gets your daydreams going, let's just say that. and here gojo was worried when he came out of the salon, thinking it was too short now. truthfully, it was a bit short compared to his other haircuts, but he wore it well. of course he did.

"so you like it?"

"i love it."

"well if you love it, then show it love." he teases.

"what on earth d'you mean?" you laugh shortly.

"fluff my hair." he says.

"no way, lice-boy."

"hey!" he pinches your cheek in retaliation, and your reaction endears him as much as it always has since you two were kids. "that was one time, i haven't ever had lice again."

he pouts. you look over. he is pouting. pouting. he's a nineteen year old boy pouting about not getting his hair fluffed by his childhood friend who he maybe sorta kinda has a crush on.

and then he encourages you. he leans his head on your shoulder. his hair tickles your cheek.

"damn. you're like an attention-starved cat." you joke.

he places your hand on his head himself. the brief warmth and glimpse at the size difference between his hand and your hand made him giddy.

you ruffle his hair lightly, and then he wears a satisfied smile. now early night has settled. it's quiet at the bridge except for the distant city sounds and lull of the highway.

"i was really worried that i did something wrong." he admits.

"i'm sorry."

he sighs, snuggling your shoulder. there's a nice silence between you and him.

then he breaks it.

"hey, i didn't say stop fluffing." his deep voice reverbs in your chest. he's playful and lively, but you can tell he's also tired from running all the way here.

"you're a menace." you tell him.

"but you like me, right?" it's more of an insecure question. he wants to hear you say it back, not as a playful joke.

"of course i do."

"good, good."

© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄.

[kkuzushi]

I forgot it's my birthday today(22/10), I swear this is gonna be my last request for this month! 😭 Happy birthday fluff moment with scara? :3 thank you so much🫶🏻

- 🎐 anon

Happy birthday, dearest🎐anon! Your requests are always appreciated in my blog, no need to worry about the amount. Enjoy this drabble and especially your day. <3

The warm afternoon sun barely peeked through the towering trees you were under, leaves shading you from the rays. No rain today it seems—perfect weather for a stroll, no?

Kids passed by you, running and chasing each other with joyful glee on their faces. You smile, affected by their own cheerful demeanor. “Don’t go too far from the village,” you reminded. They nod to your words before continuing their own little game.

Once they’re out of your sight, you turn your gaze back to the path you were on, that is until a familiar, whimsical-looking creature at the corner of your eye appears. Quickly, your eye flickered towards it.

It’s an Aranara. The small creatures that often follow you around, although this one was colored in the palette of cyan. Its hat-like structure on the head makes you remember a certain individual.. You chuckle at the thought before noticing how the creature is now right beside your foot.

You tilt your head as you look down; it mimics you. It turns around and starts waddling away, then looks back at you, like it’s waiting for you to follow their lead.

Taking the silent hint, you start walking towards the creature who continues its merry way into the Gandharva Ville’s forest.

“Are you taking me somewhere?” You ask yet it doesn’t answer you at all. You shrugged, the way this little critter communicates with its body language is adorable.

As the two of you delved deeper into the forest, your hand swishing away the enormous leaves that would slap your face every turn you take, you notice the Aranaras increasing in number.

They all look at you, their smiley faces staring at your direction. You raise an eyebrow as the leader stops, “Are we lost?” You asked. Although that didn’t seem like the case when the leaves opened up to a small clearing.

Standing at the center, with an awkward stance and a birthday cake in his hands, was Wanderer. His indigo eyes met yours, just as the Aranaras watched the both of you.

As if he’s been repeating the same line in his head, he clears his throat, “Happy Birthday.”

You blinked, darting all over the place—the Aranaras, the cake, and Wanderer himself—Now you understand.

“What? Surprised?” Wanderer scoffed, though his lips curled upwards. He walked closer to you, the cake’s design now much more apparent. It looks handmade; the clumsy edges of the icing and the uneven size of ‘Happy Birthday!’ in the middle was a telltale sign.

“You baked this?” You beamed at him, the flames of candles above the icing reflecting in your pupils. He smirked, “Did you think I have no skills in the kitchen?”

You laughed, flattered at his efforts. Wanderer wouldn’t admit it openly so make sure to keep your eyes peeled, and you’ll notice just how much he cares deep down.

“Thank you,” Your genuine smile almost made him flustered. Almost. “Just make a wish or whatever you mortals do when blowing a candle,” Wanderer grumbled, pushing the cake closer to you.

Blowing the candle is too fast.. something’s missing. “No happy birthday song?” You feigned disappointment with a pout.

“No.” He said with no hesitation.

“But it’s my birthday.. can’t you make a small, tiny exception?” You plead.

Wanderer grumbled once more, you’re really not gonna let this go, are you? Before he could even make a choice himself, the Aranaras surrounding the two of you start humming the tune of ‘Happy Birthday’.

Nahida probably taught them.

With one last sigh, Wanderer starts mumbling, “hap.. birthd.. to you.. happy.. bi..” He lifts the cake as if hiding his face while singing. How humiliating.. but if it’s for you, how could he fully decline?

The last note fades, allowing the hat guy to regain his composure.

“Satisfied?”

“Very.”

And with that, you closed your eyes and made a wish, before blowing the candles. The critters start to bounce in joy once they see the flames disappear.

“Before you start to eat this teeth-wracking pastry,” Wanderer prompts, noticing the way you stared at the dessert he's holding. “There’s something else I prepared.”

One of the Aranaras stepped forward, holding a box larger than its own body. It waddled and floated up to you, handing a delicately wrapped present.

“Open it with care,” He says, watching the way your hand tugged with the blue blow at the top. The wrapper was actually so neat, you almost didn’t want to tear it—thankfully, it has an easily removable lid.

To your surprise, the item inside was lifted at the same time the lid was pulled off. Attached to the cover was a wind chime, which once again looked like it was handmade—no, it’s definitely handmade. The design looked similar with the veils hanging from his hat.

“You made this too?” You questioned with awe. The soft breeze of the wind hits the hanging carillons, moving with intricacy, a faint melody filling your ears.

“Should I be offended with how skeptical you are with my aptitudes?” His eyebrows furrowed, though it just seemed like a cat sulking.

You grinned, “No, no.. I’m just in awe.” It’s not everyday you see Wanderer handing out his own creations anyway, what’s there to not be shocked about?

“I like it. A lot.” You added, already planning on where to hang the wind chime. You closed the lid with care again, giving him yet another genuine smile, “Thank you, Wanderer.”

The indigo haired male averted his gaze from yours as he tugs on the end of his hat, “Just eat the cake.” He grumbled.

So what was the real birthday present? The wind chime or the lovely puppet’s presence?

[satubby]

[Once upon a dream: Where you were happy]

As once in the dream, where you forgot your memories by my side, I will still be waiting for you, so please just don't forget who you were … My precious daughter of man - Malleus Draconia

[Disclaimer: This may contain errors so I'm sorry if they bother you or confuse you when reading. I didn't think this would be so long, I will finish part 3 in a few weeks. Thanks for your support, credits to the fanart I use, if I find their artists I'll post them.]

Morning was rising outside but the curtains cast shadows in your room, then the doors opened and the maids came into your room, they were all making as much noise as ever, you sigh exhaustedly refusing to look at them. "Come on princess, get up, today is your 16th birthday" One of them said, pulling you out of bed.

"I'm coming, I'm coming... It's too early for this" You sigh, getting up and heading to the powder room, you swallowed your bitterness smiling like the 'worthy and pretty princess' you were, then the maids. did their job starting to comb your hair. Your gaze was distant and you constantly clutched your dress, you were beautiful yes, but you honestly didn't care.

"Ouch, damn it" You whisper, feeling their eyes constantly on the back of your head. 

"Watch your mouth princess" murmured one, they continued brushing your hair and making you presentable, they always made sure you looked good. As you sat there, the doors opened again and a tall figure walked in. It was the housekeeper serving the queen, she entered haughty and powerful, all the maids in your service began to murmur. "Please hurry princess, you wouldn't want to embarrass the emperor and empress, would you?" 

You almost wanted to wring his neck but you knew better than to do stupid things. So you stood up without paying attention to his 'reprimand' and bowed your body politely, bowing your head as well, after all, you were a princess without any power.

 "Yes, thank you for letting me know...I assure you I only wish the best for the kingdom and the imperial family" She looks you with that very, very stiff and bitter face. After that incident like every morning, you moved towards the emperor's castle because you lived in the empress castle, farther than any other room, you used to live in the basement where they put weapons and old stuff but it was something. 

Walking down the hall, your arrival is announced, with trumpets and a red carpet. You know they're just pretending, no one gives a shit if you got in or not.

"ATTENTION!!! THIS IS THE INCOMING HEIR PRINCESS!" closing your eyes you enter with dignity as you were taught, you felt the pressure on your being before those judging eyes of the pompous nobles, so you tried not to look bad. Some looked at you with barely concealed disgust, others simply didn't look at you and the rest whispered like silly little birds cackling incessantly amidst rumors and gossip. 

Your strides echoed with the sound of the floor as you walked towards the rulers of this place you hated to call home; the looks they gave you were either filled with disgust or filled with envy as they stepped aside to make way for you. The hall in front of you slowly filled with people after you walked away and approached the throne on the platform. 

The emperor was sitting upright on his throne, next to him was the empress, looking majestic and presumptuous, as always. The empress smiled slightly as you knelt before them, both extended their hands waiting for a kiss from you, most of all it was the woman before you who gave you that silent command.

The empress stroked your hair with false kindness when you complied with her order, still with her smile on her face she continued to enjoy your humiliation, it disgusted you to look like a mere dog... And the emperor didn't even do anything, he never really cared about you. 

"Happy sixteenth birthday my dear.... Now I hope you won't do anything to make us sad; or would you like to see her highness disappointed?" Her lips brushed your lobe warning you with sincere malice, then she walked away from you smiling as if nothing had happened, you didn't even react, you knew what she wanted, you wouldn't give her that.

"Thank you for- Your worries, your highness and beloved emperor.... I wish you good vibes and I hope you live long!" With those words, you forced a forced smile swallowing your little pride and the bile in your throat felt bitter. You sincerely praised yourself, since you were good at acting, you had to do it if you wanted to survive. 

Again the emperor looked at you without interest and gave you permission to leave, so you did and like every year, you were alone on your birthday, the gifts were not really for you, much less was this party... And honestly you had long ago stopped giving it importance. 

Once he gave you permission to leave, you could leave the throne room and get away from this heavy atmosphere that only made you feel sick and want to vomit because of so much hypocrisy in the air. Although before you managed to get out of sight you could hear the nobles start whispering and gossiping behind your back. 

They were noisy, much louder than a rooster would be at morning crowing time, but what could you do? Nothing and just thinking about them gave you headaches. You continue down the halls, with a couple of maids walking behind you who don't care for you either. They never really liked you, so they just followed you as their job ordered, even you wouldn't want to be with yourself, you were a bitter mess. 

"Please leave me alone, okay? I need air" You turned around stopping at the entrance towards a balcony. They look at you confused but they care so little about you that they better bow and leave, you on the other hand headed for the nearby balcony, stretching your legs and leaning your body against the marble railing.

Looking down at the ground, you let out sighs and snorts, then unleash your usual attitude of resignation and rebellion, only being alone you can say or do the little you can, the little freedom you had.  

 "Fuck those fucking nobles, I didn't even want to come— Fucking loudmouths, they're just vultures hoping I'm wrong, honestly... GO TO THE FUCK THEM ALL!! That fucking housekeeper, the emperor and the fucking empress!.... Anyway, I hope this day ends soon"

You let your head fall on your shoulders, looking resigned to your situation, you were sick of following these stupid rules. A lady doesn't do this, a lady doesn't do that— You are at your limit and yet you can only complain to yourself or suffer your punishments. 

Your eyes unconsciously looked at parts of your body, you bit your lips in frustration.... Those scars still hurt, but you had to bear them because that made you a princess- Although honestly you always had that doubt, Did princesses really do that? In your stories it was something else. But laughing, remind yourself that they are just that, stories annnnd, since you were a child you didn't know who you were before coming here, you were always told what to say or do, as you were foolish and naive, you blindly followed in fear of that damned bitch of an empress. 

You were the puppet in her theatrical play, used and punished if something didn't go her way. Sometimes you wanted to kill her, but you'd rather keep your neck in your body. No one would help a dirty blood like you, a stupid girl with no connection or power whatsoever plus your stupid insignificant elven powers weren't even strong you could only heal scrapes or make little lights because according to rumors; your dead mother wasn't a complete elf. 

"These heels burn so much, maybe I should throw them away... But that damn woman will punish me if I do. It's a real shame my birthday sucks and the weather is so nice, which is ironic because I'm a mess."

You drop your body onto a nearby table, playing with your fingers, you didn't know at what point you started to fall asleep. 

While you were dozing on that table, lost in a kind of dream, you began to feel like you were floating in the air, reality became a dream and vice versa. At some point you opened your eyes in a strange place, it was all white and there was only you, but your body was shining, as if the stars had given you their remains to make you shine.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the giggling of a little girl, a very familiar one, that hair and tattered clothes were familiar even though you couldn't see her face. 

"Hello? ... How strange, I swore I heard something-"

You scratched your eyes thinking you were still hallucinating. You had just fallen asleep and didn't know how you got here. 

"Haha... Nyum!"

There it was again, that childish giggle attracted you again, then turning towards where it came from, you saw a completely white silhouette standing in the middle of the void. 

"Hey girl, what are we doing in this place and-? Wait!" You exclaimed starting to follow her, as she started to run, the emptiness started to change. 

The more you ran, the more it changed, the ground felt soft as you now stepped on clouds. Tall mirrors filled your vision like a maze, then again you heard the girl's giggle. 

"Haha! You can't catch me.."

Your eyes followed her silhouette in confusion, she was as energetic and elusive as... You, from childhood. You didn't know why, but you began to follow her, all these hallways of mirrors reflected both figures. 

"Girl don't run! Ugh, just tell me what this place is, fuck I just wanted to sleep and I ended up here!"

Sighing tired from so much running, you stop to rest, however something caught your attention; some mirrors were worn or broken, others simply had nothing to reflect. 

And the farther away you went the darker this place became, you two glowed as the darkness swallowed you. Then you see her entering a specific mirror, it was full of thorns and wilted roses, this place was silent, her giggling stopped being heard, slowly you went towards that mirror. 

"That girl- How strange, she took me all this way just to see this mirror?"

You whisper without understanding this strange dream, if it was one to begin with. 

So lost were you in your thoughts, that you don't even notice when your hand goes through the mirror and you are swallowed by it, unlike others, this mirror is dark as much as the the glass it was made of as its withered wooden frame. 

Screaming as you fall, you feel the air seep into your tresses shaking and making a mess of it, your dress suddenly changed as you landed in a brutish thump.

With pain in your body, you slowly got up spitting grass, that strange fall made you feel like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. Slowly you could stand up on your own feet, you were without shoes which seemed strange but what did you expect? This dream is strange in itself. 

"I must stop getting so much in my head— come to think of it, where did that mirror take me?"

You turned around looking at your surroundings, however the girl glimpsed out of the corner of your eye again, laughing at you and making you angry. 

"HEY COME BACK HERE YOU SHATTERING BRAT!"

Now you felt like the empress every time you yelled at the silhouette. Fuck! Some habits stick with people. 

She kept running into the mist of this dark forest, with you following behind her, the branches on your feet and the wildlife of the place making you scrape, but it didn't matter. You wanted to know how to get out of this place. 

"Jijiji! I'm faster than you..." Whispered the brat, her silhouette running and when you finally came out of the dark forest, the light filled her eyes blinding you. When the effect passed, you stopped thinking for an instant, this whole place was magnificent and magical, but the girl was gone. 

In its place, the vast tulip field filled your view, in the middle of it and far away on the hill, lay a beautiful oak tree the size of the most pompous castle presumably held by royalty. 

Mesmerized by this magnificence, you walked down the hill, it was a few more meters but something guided you to the oak tree. The closer you got, you heard a deep and melancholic voice singing.

Its beautiful whistling caught your attention, the closer you got the better you saw someone's back and— That little girl sitting next to her. 

Never thought that you would be Standing here so close to me There's so much I feel that I should say But words can wait until some other day

Both were relaxing on a chair made of wood and flowers as a handle, the stranger kept singing; for some reason his voice gave you a familiar but pleasant peace, you didn't know why or how, but you keep watching them swinging. 

It's been a long, long time Haven't felt like this, my dear Since can't remember when It's been a long, long time You'll never know how many dreams I've dreamed about you Or just how empty they all seem without you

The wind was blowing away the colorful petals of the field full of those tulips, you standing still in the tall grass, mesmerized by the whistling of that stranger, still looking at the girl, they seemed so comfortable with each other.

It's been a long, long time It's been a long, oh long time

And then that song stopped, breaking like a spell as well as your illusion, for just as the figure turned, his face could not be seen for he silenced you, causing thousands of tulips to cover your vision. 

"WAIT PLEASE! Who are you—" 

With an abrupt silence, you were left in the emptiness of before, broken glass halves scattered on the floor surrounded your feet, the girl was gone, only you and that hall of mirrors remained. 

Sighing, you pick up several pieces and your fragmented reflection looks back at you.

Your thoughts stop when you feel someone pull you out of that place and your eyes open as you feel the pain of a slap. Your eyes immediately went to those responsible for that: The maids in the service of the empress, who don't even look sorry for having done such a thing.

"Hey, you know you shouldn't sleep like that in public, you should be ashamed of yourself? What if the nobles gossip about you? hahahahaha." 

You clutched your reddish cheeks due to the hard slap, you growl silently wanting to do something but you just bit your lip in anger and swallowed it with 'dignity', which was the only thing you really had left; nothing belongs to you nor did anyone in this palace seem to take your position seriously.

You are just an ornament for the empress and a sack of potatoes for others to vent their frustrations. You had nowhere to go, if you left they would surely kill you, because the dirty blood should not live. 

"Please, couldn't you be less rude, Tsk! If you were seen slapping me, wouldn't you go unpunished? I'm still the emperor's daughter. It's frowned upon for a commoner to hit a noble, let alone royalty like me" You sneered with measured sarcasm, if they wanted to pull shit against you, you'd mess with them, it's all or nothing.

Your joke made them turn pale, the other maid behind gasped and took a step back. The one who slapped you swallowed as she quickly pulled herself together. They did not want the wrath of the empress if such rumors began to circulate, their necks, and perhaps yours, would roll. 

"You should be grateful princess because I have not yet reported your attitude to our noble empress, be good and we can forget about this incident" They said with a smile on their faces, the other nodded his head as the speaker held his face confidently, as if he had all the power in the situation, but his eyes reflected the fear and falsity of his words.

If they did that, they would pay more than you, a simple spanking would not be mere punishment for commoners like them, on the contrary for you, who you would be 'disciplined' for your indecency as a noble, 

However, you were interrupted by the empress's housekeeper (that damned boot-licking spy) She advanced towards you and all the maidens present bowed in fear, the two in front of you also trembled. 

"Now ladies don't make a fuss in the middle of the balconies and princess let's avoid making a fuss, please if you are not going to do anything at the party then go back to your room. As for you as maids, you have permission from the empress to discipline her, but don't overdo it..." She looked at you with cold condescension, as if she were superior. Biting your lips, you force a smile crumpling your dress in anger but swallow it all, smiling politely and standing up, wiping your dress and bowing.

 "Thank you, I will follow that sage advice, as you always know what to do, with your permission." Annoyed and frustrated once again, you left in anger and your footsteps echo loudly through the empty corridors of this place, listening to the maids laughing at you, as always.

Those damn maidservants, they always had something to say, didn't they? Laughing and talking behind your back every chance they got. Then there were those damn nobles, they were all the same, looking down on you. They always had something to comment on, whether it was your looks, your status or how you behaved. In the end you were just a trophy to them. A princess just to show off, nothing more.

Your thoughts were diverted by the sounds of the party, soon the second waltz would begin. But even if you were to go there, you would not be welcome, which is silly and ironic because this party is for you but no one actually congratulates you, the bitch empress steals every birthday you had, only to receive praise for her benevolence towards you... A bastard with dirty half elven blood.

 "Phew, at least this day is winding down." 

You sighed again as you vaguely thought about your dream, but you were more curious about that stranger, you didn't understand why he sent you back to reality, nor did you know why that girl led you there. In the end you walked down the hallway ignoring the lights and the drunks, it was like that every year, just nobles inflating their egos and gossiping behind each other's backs.

Hallways full of drunks were nothing new to you. Every year the parties ended the same as the others, with drunks and gossiping nobles. You couldn't wait for it to end, you always found it exhausting and annoying. Yet here you were, standing in the middle of the hallway with all these drunken fools around you... Surely there were some fucking and eating with lust around. 

"Hello princess!" 

A voice called out behind you, one you sadly recognized from all the years you had lived in the palace living with the nobles.

The stupid, disgusting son of Marquis Duboff, that dog rather than a man, always insisted on touching you and then complained when you refused. Snarling at fate, you tried to run away from him but he grabbed your hand and cornered you on the wall almost going out to the stairs. "Come on princess! Don't be like that, the other time I saw you flirting with other men, maybe the little slut can't help strutting around and wanting to fuck cock? You can't fool me, I know you like it—!" 

Drunk breath filled your nose, you wanted to vomit. His smell and everything about him disgusted you, so when he held your wrists, you kicked him in his private parts, you were irritated beyond belief.

"Tsk! When are you going to understand that I HATE YOU? You're a garbage existence, so.... If you'll excuse me, m-a-r-q-u-i-s!" With those words, you fixed your dress, you could be cheeky and follow orders for your own survival... However, you weren't going to play along with his games, that human excuse was a stubborn and pathetic being because you didn't want to call him a man when the vacancy was too big for him. 

This one knocked you down putting his hands in your hair, you in defense tried to shake him off but in the end between pulls, he knocked you down hitting you in the face and calling you an ungrateful bitch.

The blow threw you to the ground and to the side, sending you stumbling into a wall, you almost died if you fell badly down the stairs. You clutched your cheek as a groan of pain escaped you and, of course, the pathetic bastard was still standing there mockingly.

"You're not going anywhere princess, even though you act like an ungrateful bitch...I'm sure you'll soon come to your senses when you see that I can be gentle..." 

He sneered at you as he looked down at you from his elevated position holding an entire bottle of wine. His smile grew as he took a step closer to you, striding over and drinking. 

Then he started fighting you when you pushed him back wanting to leave, and he had the audacity to call you a spoiled brat, when IN YOUR LIFE! You've had some of that, anything you wanted was squashed and used as an excuse to make you less or crush your spirit. 

"STUPID BITCH!", you hear him yell as you poked his eye with your fingernails, in an attempt to stop him from taking your clothes off. He finally smashes the bottle on your head, making you blurry and blood dripping from your wound. 

You couldn't stand it any longer and you ran away crying, not out of sadness or helplessness (maybe it was that, but you would never say it out loud) but mostly it was rage, pure and undiluted. You felt pathetic, a fragile doll that broke for someone else's enjoyment.

"Fuck all of you... Ick! You guys are assholes" You clench your fists drawing blood from your wound with a torn piece of cloth from your now torn dress and head to your room, well, those fancy furnishings and decor really couldn't be called a room, it wasn't yours to begin with, just a guest room modified to mimic that of a room for royalty. 

Still, you decided it was better to go to your old, dirty and abandoned 'room', which was just the basement where they kept junk and rusty weapons. As you enter, you close the door, dropping into a crouch and hugging your legs, enclosing your face in your dress breaking that elegant facade into sadness and anger. 

You were exhausted and tired, very tired of everything, of everyone. Running away from the damn marquis, from the empress, from the nobles. You just wanted to be free, to be happy and find a place to just... be, instead of being a princess forced to live in a damn box and be judged or belittled for every little action.

Sighing as you sat there in that dusty old room, tears streaming down your face as you hid in your dress, you continued to wander in your thoughts. You felt alone, cut off from anything good or happy in this damned place, if there was any happiness in the falsehood of nobility to begin with. 

Your snot was running from your nose, your makeup was smeared and you didn't care at the time, you just wanted it all to be over. Sometimes you were angry at your dead mother, you blamed her for your useless elven blood running through your veins. You would even cut yourself to try to get it out and stop being a dirty blood, but all you get were injuries with punishments from the empress, you honestly don't know when was the last time you smiled or if you ever did, 

You wanted to keep hating her, she's a mother who never saw you grow up, but you didn't want to be like them, just another human, someone who pretends and discriminates against others just because. It would be hypocritical of you to do so, but sometimes you just want to scream and hate them freely, but it's stupid to do that and you just put your anger aside.

"It's useless, everything is the same every year, what did I expect this time? Mother, is my existence wrong? They just use me and throw me away when I'm not useful. I'm getting tired, how much longer can I go on with this performance?" You cried rubbing your eyes and wiping your smeared makeup with your dress, it was ruined anyway. 

Your eyes wandered around the room, looking at old dusty furniture and consumed by time, now they are blurred memories. If you think about it, in the past for some reason, you used to write letters to someone, hoping they would take you away from this place, but those hopes are ephemeral like happiness. 

You continued to sit there and cry, your feelings of hopelessness and anger pouring out. The makeup on your face was ruined, but you didn't care, it would be just another reason for the empress to call you a savage, mocking you. 

The zero memories of your childhood or the existence of your mother, your life here, everything came over you. It was very hard to face it all, very hard to hold out hope for any kind of happiness for yourself. After all, you were nothing more than a princess in a cage.

For a moment, the sensation you felt in that dream made you think of the stranger, and the memory came to mind, the magical and serene sight. It is contrary to how you felt now.

The moonlight illuminated the old dusty room, your eyes for some reason went to the old table, many broken drawings on it, for a moment you saw yourself as a child writing right there, however something blinded you like a light in your eyes. Curious you get up going to the table, the last time you were here living and sleeping you were exactly 11 years old, so you had left everything the same as when you left. 

"What the hell—?" Your gaze went to the pieces of paper, then moving them you coughed through the dust that was released after years in neglect and, shaking it with your hand— A strange piece black as darkness received you, the one that has accompanied you in your life since you are conscious until you forgot it, and if not for today you would still be in oblivion of its existence. 

Then, when you took it, an energetic discharge came from the tip to your head, giving you headaches and like a vague memory, you were pulled towards that vision, but it was blurred, what you knew was that you were in a forest. Your hands were small but you did not control this memory and this childish body.

Your ears perked up as you heard your own voice laughing, but it sounded more animated. Sometimes you think the current you is so different from your childhood self, less bitter and miserable. 

"M■□ll■s-sama, it's unfair that you always let the human win!" 

Another voice interrupted your diatribe and in turn you recognized that it was male, of course with a youthful and scandalous touch. A familiar laughter made you open your eyes in this dream(?), then that stranger whose name you did not fully understand, answered the other man, strangely you did not see who they were, because in this memory you were still hiding behind a tree.

"S□b■k, don't be hard on her, besides I don't want to make her feel bad, my ■□■■■□ is important" Your giggles kept coming out as your eyes made you expectant in this strange dream, just sharing vision with this uncontrolled childish body. The strangers behind the tree, shrouded in mystery, continue to argue. 

'What are they talking about?'

You thought to yourself, not your dream self, just your current self. Strangers are still looking for you, you looked like you were 5 years old by the size and high pitched giggles you let out. And that was before you came to the palace, what was not clear to you about this situation and your past self which you didn't remember much, so you are not understanding anything.

The two voices kept talking as the you in this memory peeked out for seconds, unable to really see their faces due to the speed at which you were hiding. You were looking from your childhood perspective, hiding in a tree and laughing to yourself, it all seemed less difficult if you thought about it. The other two males seemed to be looking for you, still arguing as they looked around the area.

Your childhood self seemed cheerful, again you wondered if she was really you or if she was just a past fragment. You looked happy, as if you were having fun playing some kind of game with these strange men. What were they talking about, and why did it seem so familiar, you didn't know, but it hurt your chest to hear yourself laugh. 

Since you came to the palace the childish games were over; so seeing this broke you in a certain way. Then you felt big hands taking the shoulders of your childish self, you laughed and named the stranger, but again the seemingly important words or names were cut off and erased, fragments remained of that stage of yours, which you did not know. 

"T■un□■ta□■u! hehehe you found me.... You were 3 seconds faster, though it's unfair because S■b□k always complains" Your words and voice were lively, sweeter and in comparison to the bitter words for this life you were leading. The stranger whose face was covered by the sunlight because you were in his arms, his shadowed face looked at you, his fanged lips smiled at you. 

His fangs glistened as a smile broke out on his face, laughing at your childish words. His voice was soft and warm, but no less gravelly and elegant, almost like the glow of the incandescent sun on you in the dream.

"You were well hidden, I could hardly find you. But I know your usual hiding places, little ch□■dr□n ■□ m■n." He said with lightness in his voice. One of his big hands moved to stroke your head, tousling your hair as he said this. Even though it was hidden behind the blinding light of the sun, you could still make out its outline....

It had a rather strange silhouette, horns coming out of its head and long wings behind it, something you only saw in forbidden books.... A dragon, but it didn't make sense that it was humanoid. 

In fact this whole situation confused you, unfortunately you came back to reality when the darkness swallowed you and you fell to the ground with a sharp blow, the dragon's scale no longer shining as brightly as before. You got up carefully, you were a mess in every sense of the word if you looked at yourself in a mirror. 

Picking that thing up carefully, you wonder if this is what made you see that. Are those your memories from when you weren't here? But it didn't make sense, the empress said she found you with two elderly brothers who were farmers, so why - why were you having these weird flashbacks? 

You sat on the old bed, holding the dragon scale in your hand and looking at it. Your head was throbbing and your thoughts were a mess. That vision... it was so vivid, like a memory... But how could it be a memory? You come from those farming families, the empress herself had said so... Though knowing her character, she could lie to you as she did about your mother's death. 

Those two men in the vision, you couldn't make out any details about them. But why did you feel so close to him in that dream? Besides you had already seen him when you fell asleep on the balcony, is everything connected...?

"Phew, I better go or I might get punished... But I can't leave this here, if they come to clean up, which is rare, they might see it, maybe I should take everything left of this old place" You put the dragon scale in your secret pocket inside your breasts, just when you were about to leave, you also saw the letters hidden under so much trash and dust. Some were torn and some were stained with ink. 

Your look is nostalgic, really when you were a simple and silly girl you didn't know how to hide things. So you took them, on your way out you took caution in looking both ways down the dark subway corridor and when you saw the shores clear, you left.

You exited the subway, making sure that no one was there, before leaving. As you did so, you returned to your room as quietly as possible. You hoped that the party was over and everyone was too drunk to notice your absence... 

As you walked through the halls, your mind kept thinking about that memory, if it was one. You had so many questions about it, about your past self and who you really were before you turned 6. It was so clear, so real... But who were they? What if... Was it all a strange fantasy of yours? Now you have a faint fragment of hope in you, even if it's vain and selfish. 

Your thoughts are interrupted by the empress waiting for you in your room, you panicked hiding the old letters and anything suspicious, she looked at you with false elegance and the lunar shadow did not help your fear to diminish.

"W-what are you doing here? I thought you were with the emperor"

You whisper avoiding looking at her, she stood up, unaware that there was your faithful maid. A maid who barely entered months ago and quickly befriended you with insistence; but that doomed her like many. Now she's dead on the floor, again you lost another ally, though you tried to prevent anyone from coming to you, trying to be nice when you couldn't afford that, it's a weakness the empress would exploit. 

Said woman continued to look at you with a cold stare, the false elegance on her face unchanged.

"Watch your tone of voice, princess." He said in a cold voice. His cold green eyes scanned you, observing your ragged and disheveled appearance with an almost mocking look on his face.

"I heard about what happened between you and the marquis earlier, my dear." You swallowed bile cursing everyone and her for that false sweetness in her voice. She took a step towards you and her tone quickly changed to a higher pitched one.

"You know how much I despise it when you embarrass me like that."

Her hands went to your bare, messy shoulders, your hair was ragged and that only added to her condescending tone, mocking your messy appearance. You bit your lips, she knew everything, she always does. You're more sure that damn dog Duboff made a fuss complaining about you, you just expected the worst in situations like that.

 "W-what's wrong with it, Your Highness? I only defended myself, or are you afraid of rumors? For example... That you don't take good care of me, and even if I AM THE EMPEROR'S DAUGHTER! You still treat me badly-" Her nails finished digging into your skin as a warning but you were so fed up that you continued.

"And yes I did, I don't give a damn anymore anyway, that dog deserved it! He's a scumbag, he wanted to abuse me, hahaha you don't even care about my image, only yours and your ego-Urgh!" A slap echoed in the empty room. The empress snarled with a contorted face, you laughed internally as you watched her lose her composure, she was a fucking bitch to you. 

It was quite satisfying to see the empress lose her composure in this way. Her face contracted in anger, a complete contrast to her normally reserved and cold demeanor. She had just slapped you, leaving a red mark on your cheek.... but you couldn't help but laugh at this. Seeing her lose control like this was almost funny.

The empress snarled at your laughter, the anger and irritation clear on her face. She moved closer to you, grabbing your hair and tugging on it. 

"How dare you talk to me like that... You're a dirty bastard blood!"

The empress's face was now contorted with anger, frustration and humiliation. After all, how dare you speak to her like that, especially at a party meant to celebrate her benevolence? You should thank her for even existing, but here you were like a brazen rat. 

"You ungrateful, insolent bitch!" She spat, tugging at your scalp and grabbing your cheeks hard so you could look her in the eye. 

"How dare you speak to me like that, I who have given you everything! Your position as princess, your meals, your clothes, let it be clear to you that you are inferior to me, without my help the emperor wouldn't care about you!"  

"... I didn't want to be this! Do you know how many nights I starved to death just because you and those maids wanted me to? You don't know anything, my life is not really mine but I'm running out of patience, even when I wanted to run away, you didn't let me... I begged you, but no more!"

"You're a-" Her hand reached up to hit you again but when you tried to pull away she only abused you more until it hurt all over, then complained about your rebelliousness and savagery.

He continued to prattle on about your insolence, debating whether he should kill you or not, but decided to leave, only punishing you by locking you in the room and ordering that no one was to come in or go out to feed you for a week. 

You got up when she left, she might as well kill herself and you wouldn't care. After a while, you changed your clothes after a relaxing and decent bath, no insults or dirty water. You were self-sufficient enough, since you were treated like a maid when you first arrived, you did everything. 

At the end of the night you lay staring at the letters on your bed, those letters written by you that for some reason you don't quite remember why you did it. "Ahh... what a day this was." 

You were left in your room, alone once again. The empress had left you with a burning cheek and a week of hungry solitary confinement. But it didn't matter, you were used to it.

With slow steps to the bed, you plopped down on the bed and then settled in, your eyes drifting to the old letters scattered on the bedspread. They were written in childish scribbles, but somehow they had some meaning. Why did you write this? And to whom? You had long forgotten the reasons behind it... You had priorities, like not dying for that woman's whims. 

With nothing to do, you decided to read them, starting with the one with the oldest date and paper. The letter began somewhat disorganized, it read like this:

March 23, first date of the solar calendar.  'It happened again today, I miss you Tsunotarou so much..... Mairy yelled at me again, you know, I know I'll never give you these letters but I hope someday to see you so I can read them for you, although I think it's more for convenience.  Nobody wants me here, I shouldn't have run away from home, Uncle Lilia was right. Humans are not the same, much less easy to understand. They are like me, physically they are but they don't act like I thought they would. Everyone says I'm a dirty blood worse than a commoner, Sebek was right when he said we are bad, but I'm not like that.  

Your expression softened but mostly out of confusion and the feeling that comes from reading this. So that's what the nickname you were talking about in the dream was... That silhouette was Tsunotarou? You didn't know but your head hurt thinking about it and even for some reason you got stuck trying to say that nickname, but still you continued reading.

 April 16 of the solar calendar  'I'm very sad, I hardly remember Uncle Lilia anymore, I'm very afraid. Tsunotarou... what if I forget you too? I don't want that, so I'll keep writing letters, so maybe my adult self will read them, I hope everything gets better, because today they made me mop the floor and the housekeeper punished me for something I didn't do. The older maids threw water and cow dung on my floor, when I had already cleaned it, I really want to come back to you Tsunotarou'.

Your expression became somewhat inexplicable, you felt the tears fall again for no apparent reason, you did not understand this feeling. Perhaps compassion for your previous innocent self, who was hurt and crushing your spirit to become what you are today.

The cards only continued to get worse. Your past self was young and innocent, so full of optimism and hope, but instead was only met with suffering. She was treated like dirt, forced to do tasks she wasn't cut out for, and others around her bullied her...and no one did anything to stop it. Your heart ached as you read the letter from your past self, and tears streamed down your face as you read it.

You clenched the letter tightly in your hand, your heart felt heavy in your chest... You didn't know if you wanted to keep reading because you were honestly so devastated by the constant abuse you've normalized, but reading all this just makes you feel sorry for yourself. 

Still, you catch a glimpse of one letter in particular lying on the corner of your bed, it's crumpled and musty as if it had been wet. Trembling you pick it up reading it and it just opens up another memory you had blocked out for yourself.

XX December of ... ??? 'Tsunotarou... I no longer remember why or why I am writing this, who are you, that I am writing this to you? I don't know, maybe it was all a dream and you, Tsunotarou whoever you are, don't exist. Last week I was caught trying to escape, but I don't remember the reason for it. Honestly it's all confusing so I'll stop writing these meaningless letters. I just know I've been hiding them, so I have to respect that about myself.... Well, this is goodbye. 

Now you remember! This is the last letter you wrote, you only know you finished it because of the first line, that nickname, you wrote it weeks before and you don't remember much. Suddenly your head starts to hurt and you get a lot of cut memories that make you cry in pain.

As you read that last letter, you were hit with a flood of memories. They came back vividly, but it was still a little fuzzy in your mind. 

You remembered why you wrote the letters. You were writing to him, that man you played with in the woods in your dream. You remembered him... and you remembered his nickname. Tsunotarou. Even the mere thought of it made your head throb. But as the memories slowly came back, you couldn't help but sob at the truth of all the events and the realization of it. 

What little you know of this is due to the only clues you had. With determination, you were determined to seek the truth behind your whole life and your lost happy childhood, so these days where the empress locked you up, you would flee through the secret corridors you had discovered in this room since you lived in it. 

Wandering the aisles of the library in the middle of the night, you were looking for books on magic or creatures of that kind, which were burned years ago by the wars, it was hard to find them. 

Despite feeling so tired, your heart was beating with determination. You knew you had to find the answers behind everything. It was time for you to find out the truth about your past and the real reason why you were here. You had so many questions running around in your mind....

But it was already late and you could already feel the tiredness invading your body after searching the library, so you walked with your books in hand through the corridors until you reached your room. With a tired sigh, you lay down on your bed, thoughts still running through your head as you slowly drifted off into an intermittent sleep...

And so for the rest of the week, you went to the basement to see if there was anything else but there was not. Then you rummaged through the housekeeper's room finding the strange bag that you now had in your room, in front of you. 

There was a strange old stuffed animal, some exotic flowers you didn't know about, a map crumpled and yellowed from years but most surprising were the many dragon scales in a jar. 

This was definitely yours, but why would you have this here? It didn't make sense and besides there were 2 books downstairs, one had drawings of 4 men, three of them with pointed ears and one was like the silhouette in your dream, with horns. 

The other was a human like you but wore a uniform; also, the second book had strange spells in it. The spell book was like the few pieces of page you found in the library on the hidden side. Thoroughly checking between pages, you saw a piece of paper with something written on it, there was also a drawing made by you most likely, underneath the apparent lullaby. 

Something about the drawing of the horned man seemed strangely familiar to you, though you didn't know why. Maybe there was a connection between him and that man in your dream... Curious, you read the writing on the paper, although due to the bad handwriting and scribbles on it, it was difficult to read.

You let go of the paper from your hands because your head started to hurt, a male voice echoed in your erased memories. It was a quiet place, a comfortable bed and finally you saw black tinted lips and fangs, he sang you that song but again, his face was blurred. 

You gripped the paper once again tighter, your head throbbing from the strange memory that came over you. The memory was fuzzy, but it was still clear enough that you could make out the vague silhouette of a man, fangs and lips tinged with black. He was singing that song to you, his voice soft and comforting.

Te agarraste la cabeza, tratando de recordar más, pero el dolor de cabeza sólo pareció empeorar. ¿Por qué tus recuerdos volvieron repentinamente a ti una vez más, y fue realmente Tsunotaoru, el hombre que te parecía tan familiar...? No lo sabías así que simplemente te volviste a dormir, cayendo profundamente

The breeze on your face welcomes you back, dazed you open your eyes seeing that you were now on a marble table near the oak tree. Confused you wake up and this time you see that you are not a teenager, more like a girl, this confuses you a lot.

Walking aimlessly, you hear in the distance in the same oak tree or further on, in the tulip field, someone singing, that same song you read in that paper.

I know you I walked with you once in a dream I know you That look in your eyes is such a familiar gleam. And I know it's true, that visions are rarely what they seem.

The tune was different, but undoubtedly it is the same voice and the same place as when that little girl in the dream led you there, the same person singing that lullaby. 

But I know you I know what you will do You will love me once and for all As you once did in a dream

You kept moving forward, the smell of flowers filled your nose and as if taking the place of the girl who you assume is your inner self, you continue moving towards the figure on the hill, standing among so many flowers looking at the sun.  

But I know you I know what you do You love me at the same time As you once did in a dream I know you I walked with you once in a dream 

The wind was soft and cool against your skin as you walked through the tulip field. The sweet smell of flowers filled the air and the sun hung high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the surroundings. As you continued walking, you heard that familiar song echoing in the air.

 "Who are you really?" you whisper in that childish little voice, this time you control this body and even if you expected an answer, there is only silence.

The closer you got, the more your heart pounded in your chest. And then, you finally saw it: a tall horned figure standing a few feet away from you.

Something in his majestic, magical and calming presence made you cry. At this moment you became a little girl taking the place of your inner self, now you just wanted to hug that man and run in his arms, like a game.

"Tsunotarou... that's what your name is?" those simple words made the horned figure look at you, with a slow step he walked up to you bending down to look at you.

The stranger smiled at you as he bent down to your level. He gently wiped away your tears with his thumb, his gaze warm and affectionate.

"Yes, it's me" he whispered in response. 

"I have missed you so much." This time your inner self spoke for you, since you wouldn't be able to understand its identity or the feelings it provokes in you, but you don't want to push it away either.

The man dressed in black hugged you tightly, squeezing you close to his chest. It was a protective embrace and you could feel the love and affection in his touch.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted to see you again, the clues I left you in your dreams, do you still have doubts my little girl?"

You nodded as you let yourself be carried by him, all your stress or bitter attitudes gone. There is only you and that lost innocence. 

"Sorry if I don't understand anything, it's just that I forgot you and that frustrates me" This time you spoke from your heart, with the truth. Without lying to anyone much less yourself and he seemed to understand. 

"Everything will have an answer, but I've missed you too, I can't be near you because I wouldn't know how to control myself, I may lose control if I see you more than I should" His whispers sounded melancholy and plaintive, but deep down his tone threatened to overflow into madness and rage. 

"Then why didn't you come for me? I don't remember but I feel like I sink into a sadness thinking about you" This time he kept silent, his face you couldn't see but you felt the tension in his body. 

"...There were reasons beyond my power that prevented me from that, besides if I went after you I could have accidentally killed you in my rage looking for you."

Despite his words you felt disappointed with him, you still decided not to hate him, you didn't want to be a bad person, no matter how bitter you were. 

"I understand... But could you answer me something, why don't I remember you well? I know you had something to do with me however, I don't remember, much less know who I was before what I am now."

The strange man again took your face in his hands and you saw why you couldn't see him, there was a mist blurring his face. 

"I don't think it's time yet, but I assure you that in a few weeks you will know... Until then, I will see you and answer your questions, my little daughter of man. Because we saw each other in a dream-" 

You wanted to keep asking but he kissed your forehead and you fell into a dream within your dreamlike sleep, finally waking up hyperventilating. 

"... Fuck I couldn't ask him his real name."