#i guess i'm the father who stepped up lol

[longeyelashedtragedy]

wish bereshit weren't today's parsha...like. God saw that the light was good, and God separated the light from the darkness. what is there even to say as a Community Leader. why is it rosh chodesh, the new month...i don't want to add fuel to anyone's fire, i don't want to say anything cheesy or faux-inspirational bc what the fuck inspiration can be taken from all this. i just want to be with my community, as i discussed in my insta story a few days ago. but maybe there's a power and honesty in a Leader not having anything to say yknow? idk...my heart is just truly broken at this point

[that-sarcastic-writer]

After Hours

DI!SingleDad!Leon S. Kennedy X F!Teacher!Reader

Summary: You really shouldn't fuck your student's dad. You shouldn't. No matter how hot you think he is. You shouldn't. Right?

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), choking, hair pulling, creampie, soft!dom leon, praising, Leon has a mouth on him, the s stands for slut, parent teacher dynamic, foul language

WC: 8.2k I am so sorry

A/N: guess who just watched death island and guess who wants to fuck di Leon. Yes, this whore. The things that man does to me. Man definitely gave me girl dad vibes in di so I wrote it lol enjoy the Leon filth

Note: this story was inspired by @konigbabe own dad!leon x teacher fic. Hers is definitely way better than mine and definitely recommend checking it out! (Sorry for not mentioning before it was extremely late last night🙃)

Universe Masterlist

You've been teaching second graders for a very long time, and you've never been more in awe and intrigued by a child at the same time. When you met this little girl you knew she would grow on you. But you didn't think she would be so complicated too. 

"Mhm, and she said— Izzy?" You were standing in your designated area during recess duty, talking to the other second grade teacher when one of your students, Isabella, was dragged to your side along with an older boy by another teacher. 

The boy had a scraped up arm, and Izzy was holding her hands together in front of herself and staring at the ground as the teacher held her by her shirt. You stared in confusion for a second before you looked at the teacher. 

"Ms. Miller, what's going on? Why are you dragging Izzy and who is this boy?" You asked, head tilted with confusion. 

"Is this Isabella Kennedy? She wouldn't answer when I asked her." The older lady asked, shooting the brunette girl a nasty look. You frowned, but nodded slowly, replying with a short yes. She continued. "She pushed one of my kids and he's bleeding. You need to take her to the Principal's office and call her parents right now." 

Your eyes widened in shock and your mouth fell open, baffled. You blinked a couple times in disbelief as you looked at Izzy. This girl was a sweetheart, quiet, but kind, she would never hurt another student. 

"Izzy, come baby, we're gonna go sit in my classroom while I call your daddy, mkay?" You shot Ms. Miller a glare that made her let go of Izzy, and you quietly extended your hand to the girl. She took it, quietly following you. 

Maybe today was the day you would finally meet Isabella Kennedy's father. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took five phone calls, three emails, and a good three hours before anyone came for Izzy. It was well past the end of the school day. You had been sitting outside the Principal's office with Izzy for about an hour when a man, tall, close to six feet tall, with a leather jacket and brown hair that fell over his eyes walked down the hall. He had the same intense blue eyes as Izzy. He had a pretty annoyed look on his face too. 

Leon Kennedy.

"Izzy." He called out when he saw her, his low baritone filling the otherwise quiet hall. The little girl lifted her head, blue eyes instantly lighting up at the sight of her dad. 

She instantly got up from her chair and ran to him. He picked her up without hesitation and a frown plastered on his face when she hid her face on his neck with guilt. 

"I'm sorry daddy." 

"Oh, what's wrong? Why are you sorry?" He asked, rubbing her back soothingly, but before she could bust out into tears, you stepped in. 

"Hi. Hey, uhm. I'm Isabella's teacher. Are you Mr. Kennedy?" You felt stupid for asking, he made you feel even more so when he narrowed his eyes at you with this 'seriously?' look in his eyes. 

"Yeah. What's going on? I saw you left me a million voicemails. Is Izzy alright?" He asked, understandably concerned, instinctively checking his daughter for any injuries or marks. 

"Yes she's alright but uhm.. Something happened earlier and I think it'd be good if we spoke in private before you speak with the principal." You bit your lip, watching as his face scrunched up with a mixture of confusion and annoyance. 

"What— y'know what, alright. Just make it quick please." He sighed, saying something to Izzy that you couldn't quite hear before he set her down on her feet. 

"I'm gonna go talk to your daddy for a minute okay? You can go finish that drawing, yeah?" You said to the little girl with a smile. She rubbed her eye but nodded regardless. 

You led Leon to your classroom. You sat on your desk as he sat on the chair you had left for him in case he did show up. He leaned back, arms folded over his chest and legs spread. That man hadn't even said a word yet and you were already sweating. He was full of self assurance and confidence, like he didn't need to say a word for his presence to be the center of attention. And it made you nervous. 

"So uhm, I called you because Isabella got into some trouble today during recess." You started, leaning your elbows on your desk. His face never changed. He had the same stoic expression. 

Seriously?

"Okay." 

"She pushed a fourth grader on the playground, and the kid scraped up his arm." You finished, hoping that would get some kind of reaction. It did. But not the one you were expecting. 

"Oh. Wow, okay." There was a tiny curve on the corner of his lips. You could swear it looked like a smile. "Is she in trouble or something?" 

"Uhm, yes, of course she's in trouble. Our anti-bullying policy is very strict here Mr. Kennedy. She could get suspended for this." 

He rolled his eyes. The motherfucker rolled his eyes. 

"That's not bullying. The kid probably deserved it." He scoffed softly, leaning further back into the chair. He had his eyebrows furrowed, and he was staring you down, pale blue eyes making you want to crawl into your own skin. "Izzy isn't the type to just hurt someone. She's a good kid. Did you even ask why she did it? 

"Well uhm.. Yes, she said the fourth grade boy was bothering her and her friend, he shoved her friend so Izzy, uh, shoved him back, much harder." You cleared your throat, knowing your answer wasn't any better. You didn't want Izzy to get in trouble, but you had to do your job.

"Are you serious?" He had this blank expression on his face, and when you nodded, he gave you a laugh that was this mixture between pride and irritation. "This is ridiculous. A nine year-old boy bullies my seven year-old daughter and her friend, but my daughter is the one that gets in trouble for standing up for herself?" 

You stared at him, lips parted as you tried to come up with an answer. You ran your tongue over your dry lips, no answer actually coming out. He scoffed. 

"Was that all then? This conversation could've been a phone call." He sat up, seemingly getting ready to stand up. You shook your head. 

"No, Mr. Kennedy. There's something else I wanted to discuss with you." 

"It's just Leon, please. I'm not that old." He chuckled, leaning back into the seat. 

Your eyes fell to his chest, slightly exposed by the undone buttons of his shirt. Your words were lost for a second as you imagined what it would be like to see under that shirt, to feel— No. That's inappropriate. Focus. 

"Uhm, I understand you must be busy with your job, Izzy talks about it all the time but I think she would benefit from more involvement from a parent in her academics and activities." You started, leaning forward on your arms. 

"Meaning what? I'm involved plenty." 

"I'm sorry but, I've had your daughter for a semester and a half, and this is the first time I've met you. We've had two parent-teachers conferences so far. I never saw you there. She performed at the winter concert, I don't recall seeing you there either." You explained with a small frown, remembering all the times you had to cheer her up because she was upset about her dad not being there for a school event. "All I'm saying is that if your job doesn't allow it, maybe Izzy's mom can—" 

"No, not an option. It's just me." He cut you off quickly, sitting up quickly as his shoulders tensed. 

You weren't a behavior analyst, but knew that tone. That defensiveness and resentment at the same time, you had seen it time and time again from single parents. It explained a lot. 

"Then she really needs you. You're the only support she has. So be there for your daughter."

"I am. It's just that my job—" 

"With all due respect, your job is not more important than your daughter. Listen, the spring concert is in two weeks. She's performing there with a few other girls. I just ask that you be there for her. Trust me it will do her good. And knowing her dad is there for her will stop her from acting out like this again." 

Leon bit his lip in thought, you could see the gears turning in his head, the way he tapped his index finger on his bicep in thought, but he ultimately sighed. 

"An elementary school concert, is that really necessary? Can't I just take you to dinner instead and we can call it even?" He said it so smoothly you didn't realize his flirtation at first. It took a second for your brain to register he was flirting with you and the tiny smirk on his face made heat rush to your face in an instant. 

"Mr. Kennedy, that is not appropriate." You tried hiding your embarrassment behind a soft laugh, but the way you avoided his eyes said enough. 

"I told you, it's Leon." He corrected you again, grin still on his face, "Alright fine, I'll see what I can do. Can I take Izzy home now?" 

"Yes. I'll email you the RSVP." You finally met his eyes with a small smile of your own as you waved your hand, signaling that he could leave. He nodded, standing up, but before he left you added, "And please look at your emails this time." 

He flashed you a small smile, "Sure Miss." 

~~~~~~~~~~

"Aw Izzy, you look so pretty. Did your daddy help you get ready?" You asked the little girl, her hair neatly pulled back into a bun, glitter scattered on her hair and blue sparkly eyeshadow matched the shades of blue in her outfit. She looked like a princess. 

"Nooo. Daddy doesn't know how to do makeup. Aunt Claire did." She said excitedly and smiled with glee.

Huh, that must be the woman that sometimes picked her up. For the longest time you thought it was her mom. But not after Leon had told you about her mom not being in the picture. Still, you thought maybe you'd get more out of her than her dad. 

"Oh she did a really good job!" You smiled at her as you stood with her, waiting for her turn to perform. "Is your daddy coming?" 

"Yes. He said he would." Good. 

"And your mommy? Is she coming too?" You squinted an eye, knowing you probably shouldn't push your luck, but kids usually never lied, and you wanted to know for sure.

"Oh, I don't have a mommy. Just daddy and Aunt Claire. Oh and Uncle Chris. But he's not around much." She said it so blankly it reminded you of her dad. 

It made your heart sink, to think her mom had abandoned her. Which you had the feeling was the case based on the defensive and almost resentful way Leon spoke about it when you met. But somehow it didn't seem to bother Izzy. 

"Well I'm sure your daddy will love to see you perform tonight. It's almost your turn, go find the other girls, I'll be right here." 

She gave you an eager nod and a smile as she ran to her friends, their names getting introduced by the principal a minute later. You stayed in a corner mostly out of sight, but enough where you could see the stage. At one point, you looked towards the far end of the gym, at the top of the stairs. You saw a familiar leather jacket, the man leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest as he watched the stage. You couldn't really see from your distance, but you had a feeling he was smiling. But you were definitely smiling when his eyes found yours. 

"Oh my God you did so good! I can't believe you learned that in a few months!" You said to Izzy, her tiny hand in yours as you walked her through the gym to find Leon.

As you walked out to the hallway, you caught a couple moms whispering not so quietly about the unknown man in a leather jacket that was standing by himself and it almost made you laugh. 

"Hey, is Isabella's dad here? I see she's still attached to your hip." Your friend, Emily walked your way, eyeing the little girl, then you. You raised an eyebrow at her, knowing she just wanted to see who was the mysterious hot single dad she kept hearing about. 

"Mmmm, yeah he's here. He's—" You looked around for a bit, quickly spotting him by himself. You smiled to yourself when your eyes met. "Izzy, your daddy is over there, go. I'll be there in a sec." 

She nodded and ran to her dad. She jumped as soon as she was in front of him and he lifted her in his arms in a heartbeat. You heard her giggles as she wrapped her arms around his neck and he sat her on his hip, hugging her. 

"He's hot. Like really hot." Emily spoke, making you look at her. Your eyes widened and you snorted quietly. "What? He is. He totally gives biker vibes. I wonder if he has a motorcycle. You should ask him to take you on a ride sometime." 

"Emily." You scolded her with a laugh. 

"I'm serious! You should go out with him. Or I will." 

"I'm leaving now, I don't not want to get written up for sexual harassment of a parent. Goodbye Ms. Robinson." You laughed, waving your hand at her dismissively as you walked towards Leon and Izzy. So you could say goodbye to Izzy. Or so you told yourself. 

"Miss! Look what my daddy gave me." Izzy showed you a beautiful white carnation. 

You smiled in awe, both at the flower but also at the sweet gesture. Leon definitely didn't seem the type to give gifts. Maybe you were wrong. 

"Oh wow, that's such a pretty flower! It's almost as pretty as you Izzy. But you're prettier." You giggled with the little girl, who nuzzled further into Leon's chest in a fit of giggles. He thought you weren't looking, but you definitely caught the tiny smile on his face. 

"But you're prettier, Miss! At school we call her Miss Pretty. Cause she's really pretty all the time, right daddy? You were saying that Miss looked really pretty the other day." Izzy lifted her head to look at her dad with her big blue eyes. 

His own eyes grew a bit and a dust of pink covered his otherwise pale face. 

"Isabella." Leon said her name sternly, but the girl just giggled even more. He rolled his eyes and looked at you, a tiny grin on his lips and that same air of confidence that never seemed to falter, even if he was embarrassed. "Okay, say bye to your friends so we can go home. And say bye to Miss Pretty." 

Now it was your turn to be fluttered. 

"Okay. Bye Miss, I'll see you on Monday!" Izzy hugged your waist as soon as Leon put her on her feet. You smiled, crouching down to embrace her properly. 

"I'll see you on Monday Izzy." You smiled, watching as she took off to find her friends. You stood up slowly, eyes meeting with Leon's. "I'm glad you came. She was really happy." 

"Mhmm, I'm glad I came too." His eyes lingered on you. 

God, you were pretty. He took in the way your hair was done differently, maybe for the occasion. Your makeup was different too, nothing too glamorous, but some shimmer on your eyelids and a lipstick that matched. And your dress, it suited you perfectly. But he'd be lying if he said he wouldn't prefer to see it on his floor instead. 

"And thank you for talking your way out of her suspension. She's a good kid, I wouldn't want something like that on her file."

"Of course. I adore Izzy, and I've seen first hand she's a sweet kid. Off the record, I didn't want her to get suspended for standing up for herself. You taught her well." You smiled, trying to ignore the blood rushing to your face. 

"Yeah well, I try."

"But I hope this isn't a one time thing though. It'd be good for Izzy if you came around more often." You bit your lip softly, feeling his deep gaze burn into your skin. He nodded, leaning ever so slightly closer. Nothing any prying eyes would notice, but you definitely did. 

"I'll be around, but in the meantime," He bit his lip, eyes darting around for a second before he leaned down to your ear for a split second, saying, "Dinner is still on the table." 

"Mr—" 

"I swear to God if you call me Mr. Kennedy one more time." 

You leaned back, a smile threatening to pull around your lips. And you nodded, digging into your purse for a second before you pulled out a piece of paper and shoved it into his palm. 

"I'll be seeing you around, Leon." 

He watched you as you walked with a smile on your face. He furrowed his eyebrows curiously but it quickly turned into a grin when he saw what you had written on the post-it note. 

Juat say when. I actually answer my phone. —Miss

"Fuck me." He sighed quietly to himself, shaking his head as he shoved the piece of paper into his pocket and rubbed a hand over his freshly trimmed jaw before calling Izzy. "Izzy, c'mon." 

"You, you evil child are in so much trouble," he chuckled, taking his daughter's hand in his, "You can't be telling daddy's secrets like that, bee. You're gonna get me in trouble." 

"But she's really pretty! And nice. And she makes really good brownies. I like her a lot." She giggled, looking up at Leon with a smile that reminded him that not everything in this world was pain and misery. "You should take her on a date!"

"I asked if she wanted to, actually." 

"Oh my God really? Did she say yes?" 

Leon looked at his little girl with narrowed eyes and smiled, "Since when are you so nosy? Hmph." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn't think Leon would be the chivalrous type to come pick you at your door for your date. But there he was, leaning on his Jeep Wrangler as he waited for you to come down. And when you did, fuck, it made him want to take you right then and there. 

"Woah… You look.." He blew out a small breath and his lips curved up. You nodded, biting your lip softly. 

"Thank you. You look good too." 

"So uh, is Italian alright? I know a really good place downtown." 

The food was great, amazing even, but this, oh this was better than any fancy restaurant. Leon pressed your back against the door, his own body pressing you further into it, preventing from moving. Not that you wanted to. He had one of your wrists pinned above your head as he kissed you, tongue slipping into your mouth to savor the faint wine you had earlier. He used his other hand to hoist you up around his waist, a moan slipping past your throat when his belt brushed against your clothed clit. 

You swore you never had sex on the first date. But for Leon you would be the biggest whore if that’s what he wanted. 

“Mmm Leon,” You panted softly, he hummed as he moved his lips to your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses. “Izzy. Is she—”

“Not here. She’s at my friend’s for the night.” He answered in between kisses.

“You have a friend that watches your kid while you get laid? Aren’t you lucky?”

“Can we not talk about my babysitting arraignments right now?" He muttered out in between kisses, his breath hot against your skin. 

A soft giggle fell past your lips and you nodded, grabbing the back of his head to kiss his lips again. A satisfied hum rumbled in his throat as he moved his lips with yours, keeping one hand on your ass and the other found the back of your neck as he moved you off the door. He was walking, somewhere, you assumed his bedroom. He parted from your lips to half watch where he was going and you took that opportunity to drag your lips along his jaw. You could tell he hadn't shaved in a few days, but you liked the tingle it gave.  

Leon let out a breathy hum at the feeling of your lips roaming freely along his skin. He bit his lips softly as he fumbled with the doorknob, he eventually got it open. He didn't bother closing it and his feet took him straight to his bed. 

He grabbed the back of your head and pressed another hard kiss to your lips before your back hit his bed. Soft duvets pooled around you as he laid you down, pulling your bottom lip with him as he moved back. 

"Fuck, I knew you'd look so pretty on my bed." He breathed out as he watched you, hair pooling around your head, and makeup already a mess. 

You gave him a shy smile as you sat up on your elbows. His eyes stayed on you as he sunk his weight on one knee, a knee he placed right in between your thighs. And his eyes never left you as he slowly undid the buttons of his navy blue dress shirt. His leather jacket was long gone by the time you had stepped foot inside his apartment.

You watched him with big eyes as he shrugged off the piece of clothing, leaving his muscular chest of full display. And fuck, if he looked huge under layers of clothing, he looked massive now. Your eyes took him all in, an arrangement of scars covered his otherwise pale skin. Scars and all, he was still the most attractive man you had ever met. 

"You look so pretty when you look at me like that." He chuckled softly, his fingers coming up under your chin to make you look up at him, clearly noticing the way you were staring at him, with those eyes and your lips parted.

"You think I'm pretty? Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately?" You responded without thinking, the words coming out with a breath. 

A smile formed on his lips and he shook his head, watching with amusement as your shaky hands touched his belt. You ran your tongue over your lips as you unbuckled his belt with shaky hands. Leon watched you carefully, his breath picking up when your fingers itched closer to his cock as it strained against his boxer briefs. But when you sat up fully, about to move your knees he grabbed your hands, making you stop. Your eyes shot up to his face with alarm, afraid you had made him uncomfortable. 

"Next time baby," He said with restraint. It wasn't that he didn't want to feel your mouth around him. He'd kill for that. But he could be selfish another time. "Lemme take care of you tonight, yeah?" 

You breathed out shakily, the panic leaving you as soon as the words left his mouth, and a pool of arousal replaced your uneasiness. You nodded. 

"Yeah, okay." 

He gave you a smile that made you ache and he gestured to you to lie down. 

"Lay down for me." He coaxed with a voice so smooth it almost made you whine. He eased a hand up your bare thighs as you did as he told you. 

Your back touched his soft covers again as you took in a sharp breath. You closed your eyes in anticipation as you heard him move around for a second. You gasped when you felt him drag you to the end of the bed by your ankle. You lifted your head and fuck, you could've come right there and there at the sight of Leon, on his knees, with his head between your legs. 

"Leon.." You whined almost desperately, the ache between your legs starting to become unbearable. 

A soft smirk tugged at his lips at the whine of his name and he lifted his head to look at you with feign innocence. 

"What's that pretty girl?" He sneaked a hand under your dress, his thumb barely grazing your clit through your panties. You twitched, a sharp gasp leaving your lips. 

"Please." A weak plea was all you could say. 

"What? Want my mouth on you? Want me to finger you open? Make you come all over my tongue?" He spoke with arrogance, with that same arrogance he always fucking wore. And you hated just how much it turned you on. 

"Yes! Yes! Yes, just please, touch me." You were so pathetic but you didn't care. 

"Oh trust me baby, I'm gonna do so much more than just touch you. You think you can handle me?" He tugged down your panties with such ease and so casually you didn't even realize he did, you were more focused on his question. 

"I… Yes I— Of course I can handle you." 

Leon chuckled at how fast you responded to his question and he bit his bottom lip as he scrunched up your dress up to your hips with his free hand, his eyes lingering on your cunt for a second before he met your gaze again. 

"Tap me twice if it's too much, yeah? A sweet elementary teacher like yourself might not be used to.. Well, me." 

You scrunched up your face a bit at his comment, shooting him a glare that made him chuckle. 

"I won't break Leon." 

A malicious smirk fell on his lips, "That's the point." 

He didn't give you time to reply with another witty remark when he decided he was done talking. He sunk his head between your thighs and his tongue dragged along your clit without a warning. You jolted with a shudder, a loud gasp leaving your lips when you felt his mouth on your already sensitive clit. 

"Oh my—" Your mouth fell open, your eyes slightly fluttering as he circled his tongue over your clit. "Oooh fuck." 

Your head fell back against the mattress as he continued to work you with his tongue. He drew circles around your clit before he moved down to your wet entrance then back up to your clit. Over and over until you were writhing on the bed. 

"Shit— Leon—!" The sound that left your mouth was pathetic, a mixture between a cry and a whimper when he slipped two of his long fingers into you. 

He groaned against you, lapping at your pussy as he slid his fingers in and out with ease. And you couldn't help the way you were grinding back against his face. It had been a long fucking time since a guy had even bothered to eat you out, let alone like this. He didn't mind it, but the way you kept sliding up the bed every time he curled up his fingers against that one spot was annoying him. With his free hand he grabbed your hip with a tight grip and slid your body back down, holding you against his face. And he held you there, with his fingers deep inside your pussy, his mouth lapping at your clit and both of your legs thrown over his shoulders. You had nowhere to go and he was more than pleased about that. 

"Fuck fuck— Shit Leon please—" You eyes were rolled into the back of your head, head thrown back as you writhed against his face. "Please— I'm so close please, please don't stop." 

Fuck, you sounded so pretty when you pleaded to him like that. He could feel his cock strain harder against his pants just at the sound. He hummed, closing his lips around your clit and suckled. You didn't mean to, but your hand fell to the back of his hair and you pulled. And my God you pulled hard. 

Leon growled at the feeling of your fingers tangling and tugging at his hair. The vibrations made you whine and you did it again. But this time he pulled back enough to speak. 

"Pull my hair one more time, I swear to God." He grunted the words. But he wasn't angry. God, he wasn't angry in the slightest. But he knew he only had so much self control left in his body.

You didn't reply, you simply loosened your grip on his honey brown strands, but you kept your hand on the back of his head and his lips found your clit again. And you did your best to not latch on to his hair again, but fuck it was so hard when his fingers hit so deep and his tongue felt so good. You were so fucking close, you couldn't help it. 

"Mhmm yeah that's it, I know you wanna come. Yeah, you wanna come don't you sweet girl?" He grunted, spitting on your clit as he scissored you open, the palm of his hand rutting against your clit. "I know you do, c'mon, come for me." 

When you felt his tongue on your clit again you couldn't help it. Your mouth fell wide open as your heels dug into his shoulders. Your eyes were squeezed shut as your mind went blank and you couldn't help yourself, your fingers dug so deep into his hair as you held his face against you he actually grunted in pain. 

But he didn't stop, he lapped at your juices as you convulsed under him, the lewd sound of his palm against your wet cunt shooting straight to his cock. 

He didn't stop sucking at your clit until you were twitching with aftershock and you were weakly pulling his head back by the ends of his hair. Only then his fingers left you and he was pulling back. He watched you through narrowed eyes as you panted, your hands now on your face as you tried to come back down to earth. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he rose his feet. 

He fumbled with his pants as he climbed on the bed and before you even realized it, he grabbed you, hands under your armpits to drag you up the bed. You stammered at the sudden manhandling. 

"Leon—" He didn't even let you finish before he was flipping you on your stomach, his bare back pressing you down on the mattress. 

"What did I say about pulling my hair, hm?" He breathed out into your ear, harshly tugging down his boxer briefs enough to pull out his cock. 

"I— I'm sorry—" You gasped as he not to gently unzipped your dress and pulled it over your head. 

He didn't let you sit up though. With a large hand in between your shoulders, he sat up enough to sit back on his knees, his cock in his hand as he pumped himself a few times. 

"No you're not." He sighed out, eyes closing for a split second as he dragged his cock between your wet folds. He heard you whine against his pillows, but you made no effort to move from where he held you. "Move that pretty little ass of yours up here. Need you to stay down though." 

With a soft whimper, you stuck your ass up in the air, meeting his hips. His eyes fell on your ass, lips slightly parted he slowly sank himself into you. He watched as his cock disappeared inside your tight walls until only a little bit of him was left. But he didn't want to push you too hard, you couldn't fit all of him. 

Leon sat still for what felt like years, but in reality it was merely a minute or so. His eyes were closed as he dragged a hand up and down your back, easing you until he knew he could move. It took you some time to adjust to his size, your eyes were squeezed shut as you fists clenched his sheets. But it wasn't long before you were begging him to fuck you. 

"Leon— Please. Need you to fuck me, please." You muttered into the sheets as you turned your head to the side so that your cheek was pressed into the mattress. 

"Mhmmm, 'course you do." Fuck, he was going to ruin you. 

He dragged his cock out slowly, slow enough for you to feel every inch of him, until you were nothing but pathetic noises. He was almost all the way out when he slammed in again, making your body slide up the mattress. He did the same again, and again, fucking your body into the mattress like no one you had ever been with before. This man was going to be the death of you. Your student's dad. There were so many things wrong with what you were doing, but fuck, you couldn't list a single one of those things that could ever top this. 

You were brought back to this reality by the feeling of his lips dragging up your bare spine. You felt a cold shudder run through your whole body as he leaned over you, his bare back pressed against yours and his hips rutting against your ass, so much so you could feel the rough material of his pants brush against your ass and the sound of his belt rattling with each snap of his hips. But that only made it better. To think he was so eager to fuck you he couldn't be bothered to take his pants off. That idea alone made you see white.

With your mind on a different planet entirely, you didn't realize the grip he had on your hair. Until you felt him pull your head back by your hair. His fingers were tangled to the root as he pressed his lips to your ear. 

"You like how that feels, hm?" You had a feeling his question was rhetorical, that you weren't supposed to enjoy the forcefulness of his actions, because he was clearly punishing you for what you did earlier. But you would be lying if you said it didn't make you even wetter. He definitely felt the way you clenched around him and he laughed. "Oh? So you do huh? Pretty Miss Teacher likes it when I'm rough with her?" 

You were nodding against his grip, as best as you could anyway, a soft cry being a pretty good sign that you did, indeed liked it. You should be ashamed of how much you wanted this man to ruin you, to use you as he pleased. But the way he was buried deep inside your cunt felt way too good to feel any shame. 

"Yes! Yes, please be rough with me." You managed to choke out. You heard the groan that rumbled in his chest at your words. 

Leon was flipping you on your back and slamming back into you before you even had time to protest. You instantly wrapped your legs around his torso as he resumed his pace, only that this time, his hips snapped much harshly with each thrust he gave you. His lips found your neck as one of his hands rested on the column of your neck, he didn't squeeze or touch your throat, he simply held you down as he fucked you into the mattress. 

His fingers twitched, the urge to wrap them around your throat making his cock throb, but he otherwise decided against it, not wanting to push you too hard on your first night together. So to avoid giving in to his urges he itched to move his hand beside your head instead. You felt his hand leave your neck and something deep within your core didn't want him to, so your hand flew to catch his wrist. 

"Choke me." You blurted out, so heated that you didn't even think of how embarrassed you normally would be to ask such a thing. 

Leon lifted his head enough to look at your face, his lips parted as he panted softly, strands of his hair falling over his eyes but he could see you clearly. He heard you loud and clear, too. 

"Shit baby," He groaned out, lips crashing against yours in a messy kiss before he returned his hand to your neck, but this time, he actually wrapped his fingers around your throat. "You're gonna be the fucking death of me. Such a pretty thing, sweet to everyone, with those pretty dresses of yours and that beautiful smile of yours. And you're asking me to choke you. Fuck." 

He squeezed ever so slightly, just enough to make you feel a bit dizzy, but in the best way possible. You were so close, you could feel the burning ache in the pit of your stomach, and with the way his cock hit your most sensitive spot with every thrust, you knew you wouldn't last long. 

"Ah— Shit— Leon—" Your sounds were choked out, barely audible, but he heard the way you were begging, the way you said his name, it drove him fucking insane. "I wanna—" 

"Mhmm, I know baby. You wanna come all over my cock, hm? Yeah you do," He dug his teeth into his already red lip as he sneaked his free hand in between your bodies and began rubbing harsh circles around your clit, making your hips jerk. "Yeah that's it— Fuck, atta girl. Lemme feel you fall apart for me." 

He didn't even have to tell you, you were seeing white the second his thumb touched your clit. You dug your nails into his skin, surely leaving a few marks to find in the morning. But he couldn't care less. He couldn't help but moan at the feeling of your walls squeezing his cock. He held you down to the mattress as he drilled into you, his own release not too far now. 

"Yeah— yeah that's it. Good girl. You're such a good girl." He dragged through pants, his fingers squeezing your throat tightly. "Fuck— Fuck I'm gonna— Shit." 

He was about to pull himself out, so as to not finish inside you, but you held him tight, legs securely wrapped around his torso. He looked you through half lidded eyes as you nodded at him. 

"Please." You couldn't say much, with his hand on your throat and all, but he understood what you meant and the idea of you letting him come inside you made him lose the little control he still had left. 

"Oh fuck— fuck that's a good girl— Ah—" His head fell to your neck as he cradled your head with the hand not your neck and he squeezed his eyes shut as he fell still, holding you down on his cock as he came with a throaty moan. "Mhmmm. Just like that. Take it just like that." 

His hand slowly released your throat, and you gasped softly as your head spun with adrenaline. Your eyes fluttered shut as you held him, arms lazily thrown over his shoulders as your fingers lightly threaded his hair. You felt his breath hot on your neck as he panted. Your own breathing was as hard and fast as his for a minute or so. But he didn't mind holding until you both calmed down. It was a while before you felt him move, probably when he got tired of holding his weight. He left a kiss on your jaw before he moved to lay on his back beside you. 

Leon turned his head to look at you and he couldn't help but smile to himself, face glistening with sweat, makeup absolutely ruined and hair tousled and pooled around your head. And even like that you were still the prettiest thing he had ever laid eyes on. 

"I wasn't too rough on you, was I?" He asked quietly, knowing he sometimes could be a bot too much.

You turned your head to look at him, and you found those pale blue eyes staring at you with concern, you gave him a tired smile. 

"Of course not. I… I liked it. I don't think anyone's ever made me come like that before." You admitted with a dry laugh. His eyebrows shot up a bit with surprise, but that surprise quickly turned into pride. 

"Well, I do like to be the exception." 

"Oh shut up." You playfully smacked his arm and he chuckled. 

You couldn't help but smile, but your expression fell a bit when you thought he probably would want you to go home. That's usually how that was, right? I mean he had a daughter, he probably didn't want his daughter's teacher— who he had just fucked senseless, to stay the night. Right? Probably not. You sighed softly as you moved your hair away from your face and sat up. You missed the confused look Leon gave you. 

"You leaving or something?" He asked with furrowed eyebrows as he sat up, watching the way you were reaching over the edge of the bed to grab your dress from the floor. But you quickly sat back to look at him, also confused. 

"I mean… I'm supposed to, right?" 

Leon scrunched up his face with confusion and slightly tilted his head, "You're supposed to?" 

"Well. Uh… Yeah. I mean, Izzy—" He cut you off right then and there. 

"Hey no, it isn't like that. I don't… I don't do that." You frowned at him, confused by what he meant. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, getting the strands out of his face. "I wasn't going to fuck you then ask you to leave. I'm not like that. It's late, and I drove you. Izzy isn't coming home tonight. You can stay. If you want of course, if not I can drive you home, I just—" 

Now it was your turn to cut him off. He gasped in surprise when you crashed your lips against his. His lips curved up into a smile as he held your face. He kissed you much softly now. 

"I wouldn't mind staying." You finally said, smiling against his lips. 

"I wouldn't mind either." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren't exactly sure when, but you had fallen asleep, with Leon's arms wrapped around you as he held you to his chest. But rays of sunlight were hitting your face now as they slipped through the open curtains he probably forgot to close the night prior. You scrunched up your nose, squinting your eyes as you pressed your face further into the pillow. But it was too late now, you were awake and there was no way to fall back asleep. As much as you would love to just cuddle up to Leon and sleep some more. Speaking of, as you peeled your eyes open you saw him, still sleeping peacefully next to you. 

He laid on his stomach, the covers pooled around his waist as his face was buried deep into his pillow. His honey brown hair was tousled from sleep and from your doing the night prior, and loose strands hung over the side of his face. God, he looked absolutely gorgeous. You really should've felt guilty for sleeping with one of your classroom parents. But when you woke up to a sight like that? You regretted nothing. 

You debated on staying in bed with him, at least until he woke up and decided to take you home, but you really needed a bathroom. So you carefully maneuvered your way out of his bed, dressed yourself in the first thing you found— his dress shirt from last night and tip toed out of his bedroom. You felt so weird walking around his house without his permission, but he hadn't exactly given you a tour last night. So you ventured until you found a bathroom. By the time you were done Leon still hadn't left his bedroom so you decided to find his kitchen for a glass of water at least. You looked around on your way to the kitchen. He wasn't much of a decorator. It was definitely the apartment of a single man. But as soon as you walked to the kitchen you saw countless drawings and pictures hanging from the fridge. 

Your heart warmed as you walked to see the drawings up close. There were definitely Izzy's. You smiled to yourself at the photo you saw next to one of the drawings, one of Leon, a few years younger, holding a baby in a hospital blanket. All of the other photos you saw were similar. It was only Leon and Isabella in all of them. Not a single one of Izzy's mom. 

Did she never want to be a part of her life? Was she truly never around? 

"You tried to run away last night, and when I wake up you're gone, too? Was I that bad?" You jumped at the sound of Leon's voice in the kitchen. 

You cursed loudly, holding a hand to your rapidly beating heart as you glared at him, making him laugh. 

"Asshole. I wanted to use the bathroom, and you were still asleep." You shrugged your shoulders, eyeing him carefully. Still no shirt, but he was wearing a pair of plaid pajamas pants now. He had his phone in his hand and was scratching the back of his head, attempting to smooth down his bedhead. 

"You look pretty with my shirt. Looks better on you actually." He hummed as he padded through the kitchen to stand in front of you.

He stood in front of you, watching you intently for a few seconds before he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. 

You giggled against his lips, happily kissing him. You threw your arms over his shoulders and he rested his hands on your hips. 

"Mmm, you hungry?" He asked, brushing his nose against yours and his lips were curled up into a grin. You nodded, biting your bottom lip. "Me too." 

You gasped when he hoisted you up on the kitchen island. You gripped his shoulders as you watched him with wide eyes. But he said nothing as he nudged your legs open with his knee and stood in between them. 

"What? I said I was hungry." He smirked as he captured your lips with his own one more time before he dropped to his knees in front of you. 

Without taking his eyes off from you, he threw one of your ankles over his shoulder and pressed his lips to the inside of your knee. Slowly, his lips itched closer and closer to your already dripping core. You held your breath with anticipation as he nibbled on your inner thigh. His lips were so close to where you needed him the most. His head got lost between your thighs and your hand instinctively fell on the back of his hair. His breath fanned hot against your clit and—

You jumped, your ass nearly slipping right off the counter, but Leon steadied you with a quick sturdy hand on your thigh. He was also startled by the sound of his phone ringing next to you. He closed his eyes, cursing under his breath. 

You took a deep breath, inhaling sharply as you looked beside you at his phone screen. 

"It says Claire." 

Leon shot up to his feet in a split second when you said that and he was answering the call almost frantically. 

"Hey. What's up? Everything alright?" He said into the phone, still standing between your parted legs. You frowned softly with concern, your hand resting on his chest as he listened to the woman on the line. "Shit, really?" 

He said nothing for a few seconds, just humming and nodding to himself before he pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed out an exasperated sigh. 

"No, you're okay, thanks for calling, Claire. Just give her some cereal, play her a Disney movie or something while I get there." He finally spoke, finally looking at you. And his blue eyes looked apologetic. "Yeah, I'll be there in fifteen. Yeah. See you soon." 

Leon placed his phone on the counter beside you and sighed. You looked up at him, eyes big with worry. 

"It's Izzy. I left her at my friend’s and apparently she woke up fuzzy. She's been crying all morning asking for me, so, gotta go pick her up." He explained, the corner of his lip curving up into an apologetic smile. You exhaled softly, the anxiety leaving your chest. 

You gave him a smile and pressed a kiss to his lips, "I get it. Don't worry. I'll get dressed so you can pick her up. I'm sorry I kept you from picking her up last night." 

"Oh, no sweetheart, don't say that. Last night was incredible. She just gets… Clingy I suppose." He sighed as he helped you down from the counter. 

"You're her only parent. It's normal. I should know." You gave him a smile as you started to head to his bedroom to get your clothes, but he grabbed your wrist, tugging you to his chest before you could. 

"Hey, I still owe you breakfast. Can I take you out again sometime?" 

The smile on your face was so wide you probably wouldn't be able to hide it even if you tried. 

"Yeah, I'll be around." 

[brynn-lear]

a/n: I won't be writing a oneshot about this since I already have a yan!capitano fic series I'm committing to, but I might randomly post about this idea more every now and then lol. tagging this AU as #the captain and his duchess

Yandere noble!Capitano who couldn't stop asking Fem Tutor!Darling to spar with him. With the weight of his inheritance, █████ must strive to be as great— if not greater— of a Captain like his father, the Duke.

But before he gained his infamous strength, you were his beloved mentor. You were a prodigy in swordsmanship with high confidence to boot. Hence, you gleefully accepted the Duke's request to tutor his eldest son. Coming from a minor noble household with only a title to uphold and not much else to boast, it's only natural to grasp unto that opportunity. It just so happened you've been clearing off competitions, and the duke has a good eye. Your parents, bless their souls, wouldn't dissuade you from your decision. Pride meant nothing when there's not even food scraps on the table. With a heart that still bleeds for the misfortune of those around you, you set off on horseback alone.

Whoever it was you were expecting to teach, it certainly wasn't a terrified noble hiding behind a helmet. Young █████ was not to blame. He carries the same dignified moral compass as his house, but he was ill-prepared to talk to people other than his family and servants. In fact, you couldn't get a word out of him as soon as you're done assessing his skill level with a first match.

Much to be desired, but the foundation is there.

... Perhaps you were too harsh with your phrasing.

"Young master," you shook your head, knocking on his door. "I couldn't teach you if you scamper about- hiding like meek prey in the closest room you'd burrow yourself in."

█████ didn't made a sound. You sighed. Truthfully, you wondered if you had done something to offend. It couldn't possibly be due to fear of authority. You're 21 and he's 19, not to mention that he is to be future sovereign Duke of Snezhnaya while you're not even reserved a seat in the council.

"F-Forgive him, Lady (Y/n)!" Elena squeaked. "He's not usually like this. I believe this is because..."

You raised an eyebrow. "Because...?"

The maid hurriedly shook her head, heat crawling up her neck. "N-No, I mustn't say. As a servant, I would step out of line."

"I'm pretty good at keeping secrets, you know?" You grinned. Skillfully, you placed a hand on the wall, leaning closer as if cornering her. You tucked the few stray strands of her hair behind her ear. "I'm not from this House, I wouldn't scold you for a little bit of sin."

She looked extremely offended. Suppose you should've expected that much from the most honorable Harbinger House's staff.

"I'm inclined to believe that this young maid's hypothesis requires no detective to solve."

You both looked to the direction of the voice. It was Prince Zandik, cousin to █████ and heir to the throne. Though to both of you, you are his most favorite gladiator and he is your best sponsor.

"Greetings, Zandik. You appear just about anywhere, huh? Are you sure you're not pulling my leg about the secret twin rumors?"

"Not one for tact, as always. But that's just how I like you, Lady (Y/n)."

Elena looked at you incredulously, wondering just where on earth did you find the audacity to refer to the Prince without proper decorum. Zandik doesn't seem sensitive to your lack of sensibility. You and Zandik have been friends since childhood was never a secret, but those who would recently find this resurfacing fact never fail to act surprised.

"I'd ask you why you're here, but the answer would be dull and overly verbose." You feigned a yawn, which made Zandik chuckle. "So, instead, why don't you tell me what you know about this █████ situation? Does he fear women?"

Zandik schooled his expression, but you can almost just about hear him say that's your best guess?

"█████ has never been one for sublime subtlety." Zandik rolled his eyes. "He admires you greatly, couldn't you tell?"

"Me? And greatly?" You scoffed. "Please, he'd outpace me with just a few lessons.

Zandik laughed. You both knew that to be true, but the future isn't quite as close to that prediction.

"Since the day I discreetly snatched him from his quarters to observe one of your sparring sessions, he has maintained a keen interest in tracking your career." The Prince remarked. "Do you recall the first bouquet of roses you've received?"

"I wasn't meant to be the recipient, do not reopen old wounds." You cringed. It was an unfortunate mistake from the messenger.

"Forgive me, I meant the second bouquet you received." He crossed his arms. "One from a secret admirer who curtly explained how he couldn't bear to see the sadness from your face and made it his honorable responsibility to buy you a larger bouquet."

You blinked.

"N-No way. I'm pretty sure that's from, um, my father."

"Buy you the most expensive bouquet in Snezhnaya? With what money?"

... A cruel but fair point.

"He even dons the same headwear as you do— the helmet he would rarely take off, did you not find it identical to your own?"

You paused.

... Wait a second.

"Well, I shall remove myself from this conversation. I have dull and overly verbose matters to attend to."

"Zandik, halt!"

[a-aexotic]

✫𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏𝒆, i can see you.

✫ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | fighting, swearing, tristan being an asshole, breaking things (not too graphic promise LOL) ✫ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 | hey yall, i'm back! i hope everyone enjoys! also i tagged everyone who seemed interested, i'm sorry for the VERY late update. i'm back, mwahhh. also planning a nate archibald series, who'd be interested? lmk! ✫ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | @colbybrocks @weepingwitchofthewest @shady-writtingtalk @zulpix-blog @wheelerslover @dogmom600 @damnhati @remussbitch @yourmumstoyboy2-blog @1-800-starkindustrie

The front door opened suddenly and she whipped her head to make eye contact with... Tristan Dugray? Oh, so that's where she's heard that name!

Y/N couldn't control as her mouth flew open. She also couldn't control the words that came out of her mouth as she saw him. "Oh, you've gotta be shitting me."

After Y/N had locked eyes with Tristan she whipped her head to face her father. "You're engaged to Tristan's mother?!"

Her father and Kristan looked surprised — they both exchanged glances before they looked back at her. "Yeah, I guess I am?"

His answer sounded more like a question rather than a straight up reply. He didn't know why she was now seemingly opposed to the idea of him being engaged to Kristan simply because of Tristan.

Y/N looked shocked, her jaw practically on the floor. "You're engaged to Tristan's mother." Instead of a question, it sounds more like a statement.

Before any of them could reply, Tristan spoke. "Oh, hello step-sister." You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. He was enjoying see your shocked expression. Tristan's smug remark only fueled your growing frustration and utter disbelief. You shot him a glare that could freeze lava before turning back to her father and Kristan, your mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions.

"So, this is what you meant by wanting me to spend time with my old 'friends'?" Your tone was laced with sarcasm as she addressed her father. "You conveniently forgot to mention that my 'old friend' is now my soon-to-be stepbrother?"

Her father shifted uncomfortably under her accusing gaze, realizing he had failed to properly prepare Y/N for this bombshell. "I... I thought it would be best to tell you in person."

Your frustration mounted with each passing second. "Well you thought wrong, Dad."

Kristan interjected, her voice gentle yet firm. "I understand this is a lot to take in, Y/N. But we're all going to be a family now, and I hope we can find a way to make this work."

Y/N fought the urge to roll her eyes at Kristan's attempt to diffuse the tension as she gave her a sarcastic smile. "Right, a family. How convenient."

Tristan leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed with a smirk still playing on his lips. "Well, this should be fun. Welcome to the family, stepsis."

Y/N resisted the urge to launch herself at him as she shot daggers with her eyes. "Don't call me that."

Kristan shot a glare at her son as she turned to you once again. "We didn't realize it would be such a shock to you,. We should have handled this better."

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside me. You knew you couldn't blame her father entirely, but the whole thing still felt like a betrayal. "I just need some time to process all of this," Y/N muttered, her voice tinged with resignation. "Excuse me."

"I thought that went great." Tristan mumbled as his mother shook his head, your father pulling her in closer.

You turned on her heel and stormed out of the room, leaving your father, Kristan, and Tristan as your retreated to her old bedroom, you couldn't shake the feeling that your carefully constructed world was crumbling around you, and you had no idea how to pick up the pieces.

You stepped out of the car, dramatically slamming the door as you took in the school: Chilton Prep School, where she would be going to school from now. She heard footsteps from behind her, she already knew who it was.

"Welcome home, Cromwell." Tristan's voice rang. You gritted her teeth at the sound of Tristan's voice behind you. You turned slowly, fixing him with a glare that could cut through steel.

"Save it, Dugray," you snapped, your tone dripping with disdain. "This is hardly my idea of home."

Tristan raised an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering. "Well, get used to it. Looks like we're going to be seeing a lot more of each other from now on."

Tristan raised an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering. "Feisty as ever, Cromwell. I'm just offering a friendly welcome to our new classmate, no need to get all... bitchy."

You narrowed your eyes at his remark, resisting the urge to roll them. "I'll take that as a compliment, Dugray. And I don't need your welcome. I know my way around just fine."

Tristan's smirk widened, clearly enjoying getting a rise out of you. "Oh, come on, Cromwell. Where's that famous New York charm? You're going to need it to survive in this stuffy place."

"I'll manage just fine without your help," you shot back, your voice dripping with determination. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have better things to do than stand here and listen to your bullshit."

You turned away from Tristan, walking into Chilton. You already hated it, everyone looked so pretentious and elitist, just like Tristan. But you weren't going to let that intimidate you. You had faced down Manhattan's elite, and you could handle a bunch of snooty prep school kids. You had grown up with these kids, they couldn't be that hard.

As you made your way through the halls, you couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place. The students eyed you with curiosity, whispers following in your wake. But you held your head high, refusing to let them see any hint of insecurity.

Chilton was a far cry from the bustling streets of Manhattan, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you were in for a rough ride. But you were Y/N Cromwell, and you didn't back down from a challenge.

With a flick of your hair and a confident stride, you made your way to your first class, ready to show Chilton Prep that Y/N Cromwell was a force to be reckoned with.

"Where are you two going?" You popped a grape in your mouth as you watched Kristan grab her purse from the chair as your father tightened his tie.

"I told you earlier, we have a date."

You raised an eyebrow at your father's response, a hint of skepticism in your voice. "A date? You two are acting like lovesick teenagers."

Kristan chuckled, smoothing down her blouse as she shot you a warm smile. "Well, your father does know how to sweep a lady off her feet."

You rolled your eyes as Kristan and your father shared glances. You all knew what that meant, you had to be left alone with Tristan. You had barely managed to tolerate his presence since arriving at your father's house, and the thought of spending an evening alone with him was enough to make you want to crawl out of your skin.

"Well, have fun on your date," you forced out, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.

With a quick goodbye, your father and Kristan headed out the door, leaving you alone, turning around and seeing Tristan in the spacious living room. He caught your gaze and his lips curved up into a smile.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as Tristan's gaze met yours, his smirk sending a wave of irritation coursing through you. You knew exactly what he was thinking – that he had you right where he wanted you, trapped in his company for the evening.

Suppressing a sigh, you turned away from Tristan, refusing to let him see how much he was getting under your skin. Instead, you busied yourself with anything that would distract you from his presence – flipping through a magazine, checking your phone, anything to avoid acknowledging him.

But no matter how hard you tried to ignore him, Tristan was a persistent presence in the room. You could feel his eyes on you, his smug smirk burning into the back of your skull.

Finally unable to take it anymore, you turned to face him with a glare. "What do you want, Tristan?" you snapped, your patience wearing thin.

Tristan's smirk widened, his gaze flickering with amusement. "Just enjoying the view, Cromwell," he replied casually, as if your irritation was nothing more than entertainment to him.

You let out a bitter laugh as you shook your head. "Real classy, Tristan."

Tristan's smirk only widened at your remark, his amusement evident in every line of his face. "Oh, come on, Cromwell," he said, his tone teasing. "You can't tell me you're not used to being the center of attention. You were in New York for five years and you're telling me you didn't have the boys throwing themselves at you?"

You narrowed your eyes at Tristan, refusing to let his words rattle you. "I don't need validation from boys like you," you retorted, your voice dripping with annoyance. "Unlike some people, I have more important things to focus on than relationships."

Tristan's smirk faltered slightly at your cutting remark, but he quickly regained his composure. "Touché, Cromwell," he replied, his tone laced with amusement. "But don't act like you're immune to a little attention. I've seen the way you strut around like you own the place."

"And you don't? Please, I see the way every girl at Chilton looks at you. And I know you well enough to see how much that strokes your already, inflated ego." You paused, your voice laced with sarcasm as you leveled a pointed gaze at Tristan. "But hey, who am I to judge? If you want to bask in the adoration of your fan club, be my guest."

"Oh, I will, Y/N." Tristan let out a laugh as he watched you get all heated. He continued you watch you as you scoffed, turning your head back to the magazine.

You could feel his eyes on you, his amusement practically palpable. But you refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. You weren't about to let him see how much he was getting to you. With a determined flick of your wrist, you closed the magazine and stood up from the sofa, shooting Tristan a glare.

"I have better things to do than sit here and listen to you," you declared, your voice laced with determination. With that, you turned on your heel and marched out of the room, leaving Tristan behind with his smug smirk and his insufferable ego.

You refused to let him drag you down to his level – you had bigger things to focus on than his petty games, like actually getting back to Manhattan where you belonged.

As you walked away, Tristan's amusement turned to frustration. He wasn't used to someone challenging him like this, especially not someone like you. With a determined stride, he followed after you, catching up just as you reached the hallway.

As you stormed out of the room, Tristan's smirk faded into a scowl. He watched you go, frustration bubbling up inside him. How dare she walk away from him like that? Without a second thought, Tristan followed after you, his footsteps echoing in the hallway as he caught up to you just as you reached the foyer.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" Tristan called out, his voice sharp with annoyance.

You stopped in your tracks, turning to face him with a glare. "Away from you," you replied sharply, crossing your arms over your chest. "I can't stand being around you for another second."

Tristan's jaw clenched, his own temper flaring. "Oh, please," he scoffed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Like you're any better. You're nothing but a spoiled brat who thinks she's better than everyone else."

The words hit you like a slap in the face, igniting a firestorm of rage within you. "At least I'm not a narcissistic asshole who gets off on belittling others," you spat, your voice rising with each word. "You think you're so much better but you're not."

Tristan squared his shoulders, meeting your gaze head-on. "I want to know what your problem is," he replied, his tone angry. "You've been acting like you a complete bitch when I'm all trying to do is be your friend."

You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. "Oh, spare me the act, Tristan," you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "We both know that's not what you're after. You just want to play your little games and stroke your own ego."

Tristan's jaw clenched, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "And what about you, huh?" he retorted, his voice rising in anger. "You act like you're too good for everyone, like you're above it all. Well, let me tell you something, Y/N – you're not as special as you think you are."

"You know what, Tristan. I don't care about you or your stupid games because all I'm trying to do is get back to New York. All this shit is just a rock in the road," you spat as you turned around, walking away.

"Oh really? What about your obvious drinking problem, that's why your mom sent you away, right?"

You stopped in your track as you took in Tristan's words. Fury was etched across your features as you spun around to face him, your fists clenched at your sides. "How dare you," you seethed, your voice trembling with rage. "You stupid asshole!"

You pushed him as hard as you could, causing him to trip and fall into a table. You heard a loud shattering and both of you just stared at each other before looking down to see glass everywhere.

"Shit, that's my mom's vase." Tristan's eyes widened in shock as he glanced at the shattered remains of the vase on the floor.

Your chest heaved with anger as you glared at Tristan, your fists still clenched at your sides. "You deserved it," you spat, your voice thick with venom. "You had no right to say that."

"Y/N, this vase is like two grand. It was my mom's favorite vase," Tristan scoffed as he stared down at the ground. "She's gonna be fucking pissed, idiot."

You stared back at him with anger but you knew that you needed to figure something out. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you clenched your jaw and met Tristan's gaze head-on. "I know I messed up," you admitted begrudgingly, your voice tight with frustration. "You shouldn't have been a bitch."

"Well you shouldn't have pushed me, like an psycho." Tristan's voice was sharp, but there was a hint of surrender beneath his irritation. He knew that pointing fingers wouldn't solve anything, but he couldn't help but feel defensive in the face of your accusation.

"Well I'm not apologizing-"

"Y/N, we need to figure out what to do before they come home."

And right on cue, the front door opened, revealing your father and Kristan, who froze in shock at the sight of the shattered vase and the two of you standing next to it.

Your father's expression hardened as he took in the scene, his disappointment evident in his eyes. "What in the world happened here?" he demanded, his voice a mix of frustration and disbelief.

masterlist !

series masterlist !

[house-of-lovin]

protect her

Tara Carpenter x Detective!Reader

masterlist

Preview: "Tara wants to go to college, study, party, make mistakes, and maybe even find love – glancing back at you with that thought. She wanted to be a normal 20-year-old, doing 20-year-old things with her older… girlfriend? Tara didn’t know if she could call you that, but you shared enough sweet soft moments with her to consider you, hers. But she couldn’t do that if she had to look over her shoulder at every creak with a startle."

Warnings: suggestive themes, mentions of violence and mature language. slight scream vi spoilers. read at your own risk.

Note: Reader is around Sam's age, so like 25 or 26. Tara being a words of affirmation girlie. Thought this dynamic would be fun to write about. I'm incapable of writing shorter oneshots ig, so enjoy 6k+ words of whatever this is lol.

Word Count: 6.1k+

The honking of horns blowing through the cool night air was muffled when you pushed the glass door of the diner open. The chimes of the overhead bell rang alerting the room of your presence but barely anyone turned their heads – save for Sam Carpenter who smiled at you.

You shuddered away remnants of the chill air off your shoulders, stepping closer to the bartop; claiming your seat in the far corner pressed up against the wall. A mug is placed on the counter before you even finish hanging your jacket on the back of the chair.

You slide into the high-top seat as the brunette pours coffee into the mug with a carafe. “Still hot, wow, I must be special.” 

“Yeah okay, hotshot. You just happened to make it in time for a new pot.” She rolls her eyes, and you hide your smirk behind the mug; taking a sip – ignoring the fact that you usually come in at this time.

“You on the clock?” She asks, leaning on her elbows atop the counter. She glances back briefly, making sure her snitch of a coworker wasn’t around to scold her for not doing her job.

It was still too early for the influx of drunk regulars and one-timers to come by, so really the only kinds of people in here were the ones who were getting off work too late to make dinner at home.

“Just got off, 16 hours. But got a new lead on a case that went cold a couple of months ago so I guess I’m doing a double. Just reviewing some notes now.” You sigh heavily, gesturing to the files and folders sprawled out on the table. 

She chuckles, shaking her head. “You work too much. You need to take a break and focus on something else outside of work. When was the last time you did something just for you?”

You roll your eyes at her mocking tone, shooting back, “Oh yeah? You learn that from therapy?”

It was her turn to glower when you remind her of the doctor visits. 

“Yeah, that’s usually the advice therapists love to give me before I actually open up – you know like they tell me to and suddenly they’re running for the hills, one by one.” 

You snort, all too familiar with the tales of her doctor visits. It took a while for Sam to open up to you; trust came sparsely these days for the Carpenter. It wasn’t until one of your frequent visits turned into you having to step in and kick a rowdy group of drunkards who were harassing Sam of something along the lines of ‘Woodsboro’ and ‘Ghostface’. It was only when you threatened the group with jail time did they relent.

Sam knew she could trust you after you sent her an acknowledging nod when the group left and went back to minding your own business. The next time you visited, she opened up; about her past, her father, her hallucinations, the attacks and the trauma that came afterward. And, how she managed to land herself in the big city, which sprouted an overzealous rant about her strained relationship with her sister.

You knew how to read people well, it was a significant part of your job to be able to. So, you knew from the moment you laid eyes on her that there was a fire behind those dark eyes that she desperately tried to douse – you had interrogated and dealt with enough people to know what the glint meant.

You were honest to Sam that you had an inkling of suspicion about the darkness in her mind – you still accepted her despite knowing her dirty secret; that a part of her doesn’t feel bad for killing Richie and Amber, if anything it felt kinda good. Sam was confused as to why you, a cop, weren't locking her behind bars at the confession. 

But, having dealt with the scum of the Earth, you can tell she was nothing like them.

It isn’t always easy to differentiate people between just good and bad, you told her when she asked.

A friendship blossomed between you two after that, bonding over similar traumas. Sam invited you to her apartment to meet her friends and sister – who all interrogated you, Mindy, most especially to make sure you weren’t secretly Ghostface. The girl had some skills in that department, you'll admit.

Coming to learn of your career and how surprisingly well Sam trusted you, the group lowered their walls bit by bit. They would never say it out loud but they felt way safer having you around.

“That’s why I don’t go to therapy.” You shrug, taking a sip of the steaming coffee; letting the heat warm your bones.

She snorts, pretending to be wiping the countertop when her coworker peeks her head out to look at you two. “You probably need it more than anyone else in this place.”

“You’re not wrong about that.” You mumble, as you flip through the evidence photos of a homicide you investigated five months ago. The pictures were gruesome, but it was just another day on the job for you. Maybe that’s why you and Sam got along more than expected.

Sam’s phone vibrates from her back pocket and she fishes it out, reading the text.

‘We got into some trouble, some help?’ it was Anika, no doubt being appointed to text Sam because the others didn't want to do it themselves.

“Dammit.” Sam sighs, already taking off her apron to leave.

“What’s up?” You raise a brow at her panicked expression.

“My sister and her friends got into some trouble. I need to get them. Crap! They’re all the way in the East Village.” She says reading the other incoming texts on her phone. “This is what I get for letting her go out.”

“Come on, I’ll drive you.” You say, already standing when Sam mentioned Tara. The thought of the brunette in trouble makes your heart stop for a moment.

“No, I can’t ask you to do that. You’re working.” She shakes her head in protest.

“Carpenter, it’s a 30-minute drive just to get to the East Village, get your ass permission to leave then meet me at my car. Acting like Danny wouldn’t have my ass if I just left you like this.” You mutter, acting indifferent – but it was true, her boyfriend would have your head on a stick if you ever left Sam high and dry, not that you would ever.

She nods, knowing she won’t win this one with you. You throw a $20 tip, slip on your jacket, and make your way back out into the cool fall air.

You lit a cigarette to pass time as you wait for Sam – leaning against your car, trying to ease the nervousness raging in you as you think of what kind of trouble Tara found herself in.

You and Tara are... complicated. You two haven't exactly slapped a label on it, all you know is you care about her more than you probably should.

Because of your close connection with Sam, and how much everyone secretly trusted you. You and Tara found yourselves growing closer to each other with each visit to their apartment.

Tara was weary about you at first introduction, ignoring that you were ridiculously attractive. She can still remember Mindy asking you to your face 'Where did Sam find you?' in a flirtatious tone. You just chuckled and explained how you met her sister, and Tara knew it was kind of wrong, but she couldn't help but be intrigued…

Then Sam started leaving you two alone in the apartment to run some errands. With not much to do, Tara decided to pop a horror movie in to watch with you – finding out you’ve never seen ‘Se7en’ after inquiring if your job was just like the movies.

A connection between you and Tara blossomed from those moments in that tiny NYC living room.

Suddenly she wasn't just your friend's little sister and man, is she magnetic.

She educates you on the joys of horror movies and you watch every single one, listening to her analysis of each scene; simply enjoying the serenity she brings out in you.

Tara is secretly glad you are older than her because sometimes it meant you’re so different, but that just means she can expose you to her interests, and vice versa. You never turned her down – no matter what it was.

On the slim chance you got off work early enough, you visited the diner to keep Sam company and do some work.

Sometimes though, when Sam would end mid-morning, you two would continue your talks at her apartment – sometimes with Danny, over whatever leftover diner food she would steal from her work for you three to munch on over beers and conversation. 

Those would be the nights where you would pass out on their couch from drinking and Tara would finally come out of her room when Sam and Danny leave. She would tuck a blanket over your sleeping figure, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, taking the time to scan your features for any injuries. And in the mornings, when you were gathering your bearings from a night of drinks and bad choices, Tara would force you to sit down at their dining table and have breakfast with her. Scolding you for your irresponsible choices, but being grateful you were in front of her, nonetheless.

She worries for you with your job and all.

And as you find yourself giving into her request for morning coffee, stolen kisses, and conversation – you push away thoughts of being late to work as you find yourself grateful for similar musings the longer you stare at the pretty girl across from you.

“Wow, if people couldn’t tell you're a narc. They sure could now.” Sam takes the time to poke fun at you – pulling you out of your daydream. You look down at your figure; sporting a button-down shirt, trousers with your leather jacket on top and trusty leather boots on your feet.

You roll your eyes in realization and flick away the cigarette bud, yanking the car door open.

“It’s the work dress cod– just get in the damn car, Carpenter.”

– – 

The usual thirty-minute drive instead took fifteen minutes as you pounded on the accelerator, flipped the sirens on, and dashed past other cars on the road as they cleared the way for you.

You arrive at the corner of a lower Manhattan intersection, the East Village was known for its bustling nightlife; you can see a mix of all ages of people wandering the street as they continue their bar crawl.

It was further down the road, where you can see six sullen-looking figures sitting on the curb of the sidewalk – a police officer standing above them. 

Sam dashes out of the car before you can even finish parking. You see her run down the street and talk to the officer, getting in his face and the six others look at her panicked. You sigh, and make your way out of the car, strapping your badge to your belt – you’d need to use it soon, you’re sure.

Tara’s eyes immediately connect to you as soon as you climb out of the car. Before she can think about it, she’s standing up to meet you. “Ah ah, I said sit down! You better listen or I’ll throw you all in jail for the night.”

“You can’t do that!” Sam shouts, stepping closer to the police officer. You decided enough was enough when you saw the police officer resting his hand on his holster.

“All right, that’s enough.” You grasp Sam’s elbow, yanking her away from the police officer. The older Carpenter is slightly startled by the rough tug, but you push her behind you getting in between her and the policeman.

“I think we’re all good here officer, thank you.” You say with finality. You weren’t asking, you were telling and Tara’s inebriated mind is all hot and bothered. 

“Like hell we are, these six were caught sneaking into a club underage, and this one.” He points to Sam, “is getting on my nerves. Now, it seems like I can add you to the list, ‘cause who the hell you think you are, buddy?”

You briefly glance a stern side-eye to Tara at ‘club and underage’, she immediately looks away.

“Detective Y/L/N from the 99th precinct.” You slide your jacket aside to flash him the badge on your waist.

”And, you must be… Officer Leroy. From 6th, huh.” Reading his name tag and badge.

“Think that’s supposed to mean something?” You see his eyes on your badge before glowering to meet your eyes. “I’ll arrest you too.”

The group breaks out into loud protests.

You chuckle knowingly, “How long you been in the force buddy?” You ask, not unaware of all of the eyes on you as you and the officer have a stare-off.

“Four months.” He answers confidently, pushing his shoulders up and back to appear taller.

“Hmm… see I had a feeling. ‘Cause, my buddy Rivers just got promoted to Captain six months ago over on the 6th precinct, which means he’s most likely your superior. I wonder what you’ll tell him as to what charge you picked us up for. ‘Cause well, he will see me.” You shrug, offering up that thought for him to think about. 

“Oh better yet, I’d just love to see what you write down on that case report, Officer. Leroy.” Your tone was harsh now as you stepped in his face, intimidating him.

He was forced to take a step back as you got in his space, his features paling, it took a few seconds before he conceded. “Fine! Just get the hell out of here, and don’t let me see you again!”

Everyone let out a relieved sigh as you smirked at his submission; everyone immediately takes the chance to leave and Sam tries to tug on your arm but you were still staring the cop down. He put this hand on his fucking gun when Sam got in his face and anger was quickly rising in your veins – you were unmovable, even by rough force.

“Y/N it’s over, let’s go.” Sam tries again but she can feel your arm harden as your knuckles tighten into a fist. “Y/N, seriously.”

Tara sobered up by the time police charges was being thrown around and her worry about your protectiveness was increasing. Sam couldn’t even pull you away. Chad steps in when Sam asks for help to convince you to move. He puts a hand on your shoulder, whispering calming words, no doubt. 

But nothing was working as you stood there, still unmovable. She wouldn’t be surprised if Chad threw you over his shoulder and dragged you away, even though you weren’t that much smaller than him. In your boots, you were nearly at his height and Tara had to strain her neck to try and meet your eyes. 

It was only when Tara pulled away from Quinn and Mindy’s hold and stepped in front of you, putting a hand just above your chest that you blinked, glancing down at her. “Y/N, let’s go… please.”

When you tried to glance back up at the other officer, whose partner had seen the commotion and tried his own efforts in calming him; his patience thinning by the second – was when Tara’s grasp on your shirt firmed, making you look back at her own stern eyes.

"Let's. Go." Her tone left no room for argument. Warning you from doing something stupid and you clench your jaw, looking away from the uniformed officers.

“Fine…"

Everyone slowly releases a breath when your rigid posture relaxes. “I’m driving you home, let’s go.” You exclaim to the rest but look directly at Tara, “Especially you, Carpenter.”

You place a hand on the sliver of her back and Tara shivers not used to being this close to you in a while. Your hand keeps its place even as you both turn and Sam is immediately on her ass about sneaking into a club. You guide the bickering sisters to walk to the car, zoning out the familiar sounds of their argument.

“–ou’re lucky Y/N was at the diner, who knows what that creep would’ve done if we didn’t drive out here in time.” Your hand tightens, subtly bringing her closer to your side at Sam’s words, Tara glances over when you do.

“It was fine until you got there and started overreacting, Sam.” Tara rolls her eyes, way past just ‘over’ Sam’s overprotectiveness. The younger girl loved her sister, she did, but she didn’t want to live her life constantly looking over her shoulder.

Tara wants to go to college, study, party, make mistakes, and maybe even find love – glancing back at you with that thought. She wanted to be a normal 20-year-old, doing 20-year-old things with her older… girlfriend? Tara didn’t know if she could call you that, but you shared enough sweet soft moments with her to consider you, hers. But she couldn’t do that if she had to look over her shoulder at every creak with a startle.

Sam scoffed offended, “Are you kidding me right now?” And you sigh because you can feel a bigger fight brewing and you can hear the slurring in Tara’s words, not a good mix. 

“Let’s get you all home first before we do this, okay?” You cut in when you see the car come closer into view. Fishing for your keys, you throw them at Sam making her catch them. 

“Walk ahead and start the car for me, please?” You ask with a raised brow; tilting your head to gesture to Tara saying a wordless ‘i got her’. Sam relents, tightly gripping the keys and walked ahead.

Tara leans her head against your shoulder, grateful for the brief moment of seclusion as everyone else walks up ahead.

“Are you mad at me?” You glance down at her frown, before looking away. 

“No. I’m not.”

“That wasn’t very convincing. If you’re mad you can tell me… cause then I can fix it.” You feel her run her hand up and down your back, under your jacket. It made a shiver run up your spine as she continued rubbing lines on the fabric of your shirt.

“I swear, I’m not mad. A little disappointed but no, not mad.”

Tara huffs, sliding her arm off your back when you reach the car; the talk cut short. You open the car door sitting Tara inside, it was a tight squeeze but she was small. You’d sit her on your lap if her sister wasn't here. Anika did sit on Mindy’s lap though with poor Chad in the middle seat and then Tara. 

She squeezes your hand just before you shut the door.

Apparently, Ethan and Quinn elected not to go home and continue on with their night.

Sam is already sitting in the passenger seat by the time you closed Tara’s door. With a sigh, you pull your door open, sit behind the wheel and drive off to the Carpenter’s apartment.

– –

Sam hurriedly rushes everyone into the living room as soon she opens the door; making sure to quadruple lock it, twist the handle to make sure it's locked and look out the peephole. It was Sam’s routine whenever she got into their place.

“Come on, let’s go, sit down.” Sam waves at you all, walking to the kitchen to grab water for everyone.

You help Tara onto the far edge of the couch, sitting her beside Mindy, who sat beside Anika. Chad decided to choose a record to listen to get rid of the tense air.

You felt Tara pulling you down with her, “Let me sit on your lap.” She mutters only to you.

“We can’t,” You whisper in her ear, slightly shaking your head. You hear her huff when you refuse her and see the pout on her lips when you pulled back, slightly smiling at her adorableness.

You force yourself to walk away from the younger Carpenter; heart tugging firmly, wanting nothing more than to wrap her in your arms, especially after not knowing what kind of trouble she was in.

Instead, you make your way into the kitchen to help Sam with the water bottles and bread.

“Is this necessary, Sam?” You ask the brunette, who was frantically searching through the fridge on her knees.

“You kidding? Chad is literally just staring holes at the record player.” She rebuttals and you glance back at the younger boy in amusement.

With a chuckle, you say, “He’s just high as shit. He’ll come down soon, plus he’s here now, they all are. Just relax and take a deep breath, man.” You remind her in a serious tone, holding out a hand to hold all the water bottles she was passing off to you.

“I know, I know. I was just worried.” She follows your advice taking calming, deep breaths as you follow along with her. 

“Your therapist would be so proud, Samantha.” You tease smugly as she scoffs, hitting your leg from her position on the floor – you kick her back.

“Can you make sure Tara drinks and eats something, and that she’s okay before going to bed?” Sam asks you in a hushed tone, although she didn’t need to. The other four were all too engrossed either in the music or the TV in the back. 

“Why me?”

“She’s not ready to talk to me and I’m not either... and I just wanna sleep right now.” She admits with a plead behind her eyes and you nod with no hesitation. 

“I'll make sure all of them make it to bed, don’t worry.” She nods appreciatively, then stands so you can both get back to the other four in the living room – tossing them some bread.

“Finish that whole bottle before going to sleep, I don’t care if you piss your pants while you do ‘em.” You say in a stern tone while throwing the bottles, then sitting on the armchair to Tara’s left.

Sam shares a look with you as she slips out of the room, wordlessly, leaving you with the other four. They watched TV for the next 20 minutes, glancing around as each of them got progressively tired the more time ticked on. 

“Alright. I think it’s time to call it a night.” You call it.

The twins and Anika slowly got up, muttering goodbyes and promises of texting Tara once they’d made it home. You offered to drive them to their dorm but felt the silent conversation between the friends – as Tara got them to turn you down to get you to stay here with her. 

You lean against the front door, watching as the trio made their way down the stairs until they were out of sight. As soon as you shut the door closed, you felt arms wrap around your midsection – making you turn around.

“I missed you,” Tara mutters against your chest making you chuckle when it slightly tickled. 

You cup her jaw, making her look into your eyes. “I missed you too, baby.”

Tara melts at the term of endearment, grabbing your neck to pull you down for a long searing kiss. Lips slotted over one another as they found the familiar grooves of each other’s mouths. Only breaking apart when Tara confessed with a bated breath, “You looked so hot confronting that other cop.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm…” She mutters connecting her mouth to your neck, peppering wet kisses there. She can hear you sigh in satisfaction and it makes her hold on you tighten even more. But with great reluctance, you pulled away from Tara; who whimpered in protest.

“We can’t, babe.” You remind her, pointing with your head to Sam’s room.

She frowns, “then come to my room.” Problem solved. She smirked devilishly, tugging you toward her room; you refused.

“We still can’t. You’re drunk and I’m not taking advantage.” You whisper, only stepping close to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She groans letting her head drop to your shoulder as your hand played with her hair.

“I hate that you’re a goodie two shoes.” She mutters making you laugh.

You tilt her head up with the hand already in her hair – gaze intense as you whisper, “I can assure you, I am far from a goodie two shoes.”

And Tara thought she melted at the way your voice dropped an octave when you said that but she knew she melted when you leaned down, tugging her by the hair, to connect your lips.

It was barely a peck, all tender and fleeting.

When you pulled away, she smirked knowingly watching as your eyes traced a path from her lips to her eyes – your gaze all dark, lustful. When your eyes connect you dive into her with a hair-raising kiss; all hungry and pining.

The feeling of your tongue clashing against hers and sounds of soft moans sends time stopping like only you and her exist in this apartment together. But Tara knows it doesn’t really stop and she has to eventually pull away before she takes you in the hallway – right then and there.

“God, you drive me crazy,” Tara whispers against your lips.

“So do you… cause sneaking into a club, really?” You ask unimpressed and Tara immediately pulls back, groaning.

Snickering as you follow closely behind when she walks into her room, trying to get away from you.

“You’re a mood-killer.” She mutters sitting on her bed, arms crossed over her chest; sulking.

“And you’re gonna give me and Sam a heart attack soon.” You joke but it was true. Tara loved to prove her sister wrong; not like being told what to do. It grew a defiant attitude in her that loved to stir shit up just for the hell of it, and that landed her in some hot waters with her friends sometimes. She definitely made your blood pressure sky-rocket, sometimes too.

“Why?” Tara probes. You were always so elusive and mysterious – it came with your job and allure. She can barely get you to open up about your feelings most of the time, saying you prefer to show her than tell her. You definitely did, so this admission from you was new. It has Tara yearning to hear more words of affirmation from you.

“Do I have to spell it out for you? I care about you, dummy. I nearly caused multiple accidents just to get to you. I was going like 80 mph the whole time,” You admitted, scratching the back of your neck a little ashamed.

“You were really that worried?” She asks, looking up at you with a hopeful stare like she was surprised.

“Of course, I was Tara. I even used the siren lights.” You shake your head at the fact that she’s even asking. 

She was smiling goofily as you walked closer to stand between her legs, taking both her hands in yours. “I worry for all of you. But you, well, I always worry for you 'cause I’m thinking about you all the time.” You confessed in a whisper in her dark room. 

Tara bites her lip, staring up at you with an indecipherable look. “You’re the worst.” Was the words that left her mouth.

“What, why?” You ask laughing.

She lets go of your hands to fiddle with your shirt buttons, muttering, “‘Cause you’re standing here looking all good and saying all the right things, and you still won’t fuck me.”

“Oookay…” You chuckle, grabbing at her fingers trying to unbutton your shirt, “That’s enough from you tonight. Let’s get you to bed before you say anything else you might regret tomorrow.”

She huffed but allowed you to grab her some new clothes to help her change; still not fucking her, Tara complains. Your eyes never even strayed from hers, not even when she took her bra off to change shirts and batted her eyes seductively. When she was all ready, you helped her to bed; tucking her in.

“Stay with me?” She asks grabbing onto your shirt, then gripping tighter. “Please.”

“What about Sam?” You ask softly, pushing away some hair from her face.

“She’s probably already sleeping, if not, she’s gonna be in her room all night.” Tara reasons, fully tugging you on top of her. 

You give in like you always do.

Work for you and classes for Tara have been a lot right now, not being able to find time alone. You were practically living at the police station with the crime surge in the city, working late nights and long hours. With Sam’s overprotectiveness, Tara can say goodbye to dates so she only really sees you when you come over with her sister. You take your jacket off, place it on the chair in the corner of her room and tug your boots off. Remembering you had a change of clothes here from when Tara ransacked your closet; you picked out a shirt and shorts before getting into bed beside the younger Carpenter.

She was on you in an instant, swinging a leg over your waist, shoving her face in your neck. You feel her exhale a calming breath, once she’d settled into a comfortable position on you. You reciprocate by wrapping a strong grip around her waist, cherishing the way her skin warmed yours and how the weight of her body felt perfect.

“Just stay with me until I fall asleep?” She asks you with such a vulnerable gaze that you would never dream of ever telling her no.

You nod, pressing a kiss to her lips, then forehead. “Of course, pretty girl. Goodnight.”

She smiles against your lips, whispering her own, “goodnight.”

As you hold Tara Carpenter in your arms, you find yourself fending off sleep, only ever being this relaxed around the girl. You squeeze her slightly, feeling grateful to be with her at this moment with all the craziness in your two’s lives. No worries of outside-world problems could break the cozy bubble you and Tara created. Without ever standing a chance, you lose the fight to sleep and easily fall off the precipice with her in your embrace.

– –

“Tara, do you have my nail polish – Oh this is cute.”

You spring up, the voice startling you from the most relaxed sleep you’ve ever had; the type that makes your entire body heavy and head foggy when you wake up. You were the lightest of sleepers, a pin drop could probably startle you awake, but never when you fell asleep beside Tara.

“What the fuck?” Tara grumbles against your side, peaking her head up to see Quinn watching you two in bed.

It took you a few seconds to realize where you were and instantly pale when you realize you never left the Carpenter Sister’s apartment, you never even made it out of Tara’s bed. You can feel the stream of sunlight coming in from Tara’s window and just know you had majorly fucked up.

“I just needed my nail polish but this is quite a sight, definitely a pleasant surprise.” She waves a hand toward you two, and you roll your eyes.

“Shit babe, Sam.” Tara places a hand on your arm. You check the watch strapped on your wrist for the time, 10:32 AM – making you leap out of her, oh so warm bed.

“Screw Sam, my Captain is gonna be on my ass until next year if I don’t get to work now. I was late about two hours ago.” Grumbling, you yanked Tara’s closet open and grabbed the spare trousers and button-down, you stowed in there.

"Can't say I blame your Captain." Quinn retorts, heavily eyeing you as you change your shorts into trousers.

Tara groans at the mess this morning has already been, flopping onto her back.

“Screw Sam, huh?” She appears, leaning on the threshold just behind Quinn, crossing her arms over her chest.

Your hands stall on the tie you were tying as you hear your friend’s voice, making you turn around.

“I guess that’s a no on the nail polish?” Tara glares at her roommate. 

Quinn shrugs, still ogling as you changed before turning to leave the room. “Not a wasted trip though, nice catch Tara.” She winks at the brunette – holding a thumbs up.

The redhead just laughs, moving out of the way when Tara attempts to throw a pillow at her.

“Sam… I’d love to explain but I am so late for work right now.” You plead at the older sister.

Tara sat on her bed wordlessly, unsure of what Sam’s reaction is going to be – but ready to defend her relationship with you, regardless.

Sam chuckles shrugging lightly, “I already knew. Or well, I had a feeling, but this just confirms it.”

You and Tara look at each other at her confession, unsure if Sam’s words hold positive or negative connotations. Sam sees the eye-contact and laughs.

“I’m not mad, I promise. I was a little hurt that you didn’t tell me…” She pauses, “okay. I was really hurt when you guys didn’t tell me. But I realize I haven’t given Tara reason to trust me with anything about her life lately.”

That makes Tara’s head perk up at her sister’s admission. All she’s ever wanted was for Sam to trust her a little because trust went both ways in every type of relationship.

“And well, I guess I can’t think of anyone better to be with my sister than my cop friend. Especially after you came through for her last night. You were driving so fast, I thought I was gonna die.” Sam laughs a little but you’re still unconvinced.

When Sam realizes no one was still talking she chuckles again. “Guys, I’m serious!”

You cough clearing your throat, “Sorry Sam, it’s just that... I–uh,” 

Tara decided to cut off your stammering, “We’re just surprised, Sam. We thought you'd be more upset. And that we were more subtle.” She admits, shooting you a look.

“You weren't. But, I thought a lot about what to say until I realized it was just you guys and I care about you two so much. You don’t think I noticed Tara being a lot happier than usual and you actually looking somewhat at peace?” She asks rhetorically, reading you and Tara to filth – your cheeks reddening, not being used to being at the other end of the ‘questioning’.

“I see how you look at each other. I know you’ll protect her.” That last sentence she says looking at you and it means the world to get her approval – something that you didn’t even know you wanted, you nod at her appreciatively.

Sam pushes herself off the doorframe, tapping on it. “Now come on, there’s breakfast in the kitchen, don't let it get cold. And Y/N, I don’t think you’re gonna make it to work today.” She winks, leaving you and Tara alone in the room.

You didn’t say anything for a few seconds, unable to find words to describe what just transpired in the span of a few minutes. Then you hear a scoff bring you out of your reverie.

“What the hell was that,” Tara commented, getting up from the bed and closing the door before approaching you. 

“I’m… not really sure. I can’t tell if I’m still asleep.” You mumble, grabbing at her cheeks to make sure you weren't in a dream. Tara whines against the pinching, swatting your hands away.

You laughed at her frown before leaning down to kiss her slightly chapped lips, all soft and slow. Tara pulls you closer by the neck, sighing against pressed mouths. A sweet moan escapes her mouth when you suck down hard on her lip, releasing it with a loud pop. 

“You think I should call in sick today?” You whisper, running a gentle thumb to soothe her swollen lip.

Tara nods, eyes half-open still a little dazed from your kiss. When she gathers her bearings, she runs a hand down your half-done tie, tugging you closer. “Definitely.”

"You can tell me more about how worried you were and how fast you were driving too," She whispers against your mouth, using your tie as a leash.

"Are you turned on right now?"

"Kinda... can I drive with the sirens on?" She slides the question in like it was nothing.

"No."

"Buzzkill." She teases but pulls you on top when her back hits the mattress. “I’ll make you change your mind.”

You definitely forgot to make that phone call.

The rest of that morning was spent in between Tara’s sheets, you two hidden away from the world; ignoring the flurry of texts and calls from your work phone. Only leaving her room to grab some food and water, but getting caught in the crossfire of teasings from Tara's friends when they see the hickeys on your neck.

Tara merely strides past you, dressed in nothing but your button-down, stopping for a peck on the lips and grabbing the water from your hands before hiding back in her room to ignore her friends. You don’t miss the cheeky wink she tosses you and the grimace Sam lets out as she watches. Instead, you keep your head down and follow the smaller girl like a lost puppy, ignoring the other's whistles as you do.

And, when you make your way to your desk the next day, a mountain pile of shitty cases for the next month is stacked high as punishment.

You still find it hard to feel any remorse for the no-show.

It was definitely worth it.

– –

:)

[certainlynotasimp]

Okay here me out miggy and sunny who get ambushed by another spider but it turns out to be there daughter from the future?! I feel like they’d be shocked to see a teenager (like 18) just trying to fix a mess she made to get back home. I love all your work especially Miguel and Sunny!

Our Girl

(Miguel O'Hara x Female Reader)

A/N: Hey lovely~ So I kinda went off track a little with this one and kinda focused a little more on Maria, the daughter, and not so much her fixing the problem and more her being overwhelmed by the idea of the multiverse. I'm sorry I went off kilter but I loved the idea of seeing how they would react in general to meeting their child.

Also, I've been obsessed with this song on TikTok so I had to name their daughter after it.

A/N: If you guys wanna view more of my works then feel free to read my master list and if you wanna see what else is coming up, then check out this one-shot schedule. If you love the Sunny and Miggy fics like I do then comment on the taglist post because I add everyone who comments. I hope you enjoy it!

Warning: Grumpy x Sunshine, Barely any use of (Y/N) ((Sunny is the Reader's nickname, not her actual name)), Female Reader/ Female pronouns, Shinangins, Kinda fluffy, kinda a crack fic lol, and Google translated Spanish ((Pls forgive me, my wonderful Spanish speakers.))

~~~~~~~~~~

Okay, I guess If im gonna do this, I’m gonna have to start with the beginning, Hi I’m Maria O’ Hara and I’m-

“Kids, Breakfast is ready~!” A soft cheery voice calls out causing a groan to escape the teenager’s mouth. The sound of two pairs of feet book it past her bedroom door with the notable bang of one of them being knocked into the wall.

“Mami!” A teary voice of her seven year old brother yells. “Gabriel keeps pushing me into the wall!”

“No I’m not!” The thirteen year old cries out with a loud crack in his voice. “He keeps getting in front of me!”

“Gabriel, Ben, quit bickering and come here before your father comes down.” The gentle scolding causes the boys to continue their run down the stairs while Maria rolls her eyes and goes back to her diary.

Dammit, okay, we can work with this. Hi, I’m Maria O’ Hara. I’m 18 years old and I live in Nueva York with my mama and papa and my two brothers. I’m basically your normal teenager except for one-

“Maria?” a soft knock on her door causes her to call back through the door.

“Yes, Mama?” “Breakfast is ready, honey. Come on down stairs before it gets cold…” She can hear the cautious edge in her mother’s voice as she tries to coo her child down stairs.

“I’m on my way, Mama, just let me get finish getting dressed.” She cringes at the lie as she was already dressed and ready for her day. Maria holds her breath for a couple of minutes until she can hear her mom mutter a simple okay as the sound of heavy foot steps come up beside her.

The low baritone of her father’s whisper can be heard along with her mother’s worried tone as she can hear her trying to urge her husband down stairs to give their daughter some privacy.

Maria returns to her writing as she knows shes definitely on a ticking time bomb now that her father was up and down stairs. He was a strickler for spending meals together as a family and the only time he let go of that rule was when one was sick or when…Maria and Javi were in that accident…

She shakes the haunting image of Javi out of her mind as she writes.

I’m basically your normal teenager except for one thing. I’m Spider Woman, the one and only beloved hero of Queens.Two years ago, I gotten bite by this funky spider at my dad’s lab in Alchemax and I gained these awesome super powers. It was honestly the best thing to ever happen to me. I got to swing around and stop bad guys all before fourth period. The only person who knew was my best friend Javi-

“Maria!” A deep voice booms as Maria gritted her teeth. “¡Tu madre ya te llamó dos veces! ¡Baja y come!”

“Shit!” The teenager curses as she rushes to collect her stuff into her bag. The white and blue fabric of her spider suit shines at the bottom of the bag before her necessities get piled on top of it.

“¡¿Qué diablos dijiste?!” Her father yells as she can hear her mother yell at him. 

“¡¡Miguel, no te atrevas a maldecir en la mesa de mi comedor!!”

Maria hurries down the stairs as she listens to her family interact at the table.

A muffled voice that she figured was her mother scolds the angry man while a soft more masculine mutter apologizes. A couple of giggles can be heard before a stern voice scolds them as well for what Maria can hear, “Chicos, no le faltéis al respeto a vuestro padre. La única razón por la que tu madre puede hacerlo es porque me echará de la cama.”

As Maria makes it into the dining room, she laughs along with her brothers as their mom playfully slaps their dad’s arm. The tall dark haired man chuckles at his adorable wife before catching her hand and kisses it, causing the woman to smile with a love sick look in her eyes. 

“Eww!” Ben cries as he tries to block his vision with his toast causing the couple to roll their eyes.

Maria sits down beside her father Miguel and Gabriel as she starts to fill her plate. All of the children looked exactly like their father with only slight changes in hair textures and certain facial features. Ben, the youngest of the trio, looked the most like their mother with his eye shape and nose matching hers while the middle child, Gabriel, was a copy and paste verison of their father with only his mother’s smile indicating that they were related. Maria was a better mixture of the two with her mother’s height and face shape making her her mother’s “clone”, Miguel’s words not their’s. 

All the siblings would disagree as their matching dark brown eyes and their dark hair. They also had his temper. There wasn’t a single day that didn’t end without a fight. But they all loved each other despite the stress they put on their poor sweet mother’s heart.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Yahooo!” The web crusader swings around the city with a laugh bubbling through her being as the adrenaline pumps through her veins. Today wasn’t that bad today when it came to crime. No cat burgalurs, no bank robberies, No super mutants, No robots, and No…

A shrilling laugh fills the sky as Maria lands on top of a building. As she looks around for the source of the noise, a figure flies over her. Several flashes of gold falls down onto the streets below and a series of explosions go off at the chilling sound of a woman’s laugh among the symphony of screams. The woman was flying on a golden glider looking device with a skin tight blue holographic suit with an orange cloak wrapping around her features with a devilish jackolatern mask on.

“Who the hell is that?” She asks to no one as she swung up to catch up to the maniac, “Hey Spooky!”

Maria sticks a web onto the glider and propels herself into the air before slamming down on top of the villain. The woman shrieks as she falls off her glider with the spider until the glider follows them down. The villainess throws a purple bomb at the girl before her glider catches her. The teenager shoots a web onto a near by building and catches the bomb. 

“No thanks, I’m not on interested in what you’re cooking.” She throws the bomb into the air before it explodes. However, instead of smoke, an orange portal appears as a strong suction causes the spider’s grip to slip and fly into the air. “Hey!” She yells as she gets pulled into the portal.

~~~~~~~

A scream echos through the Lobby as a flaying spider falls down from a portal. Hobie rolls his eyes while Jessica looks up unimpress. 

“Another newbie?” She asks as the spider girl catches herself on a walk way above the duo. 

“I don’t know.” The rocker mumbles as he tunes his guitar. “You know that they normally end up in some alternate dimension where the floor is lave or some shite.”

The spider girl looks around her in shock as she sees millions of other spider people walking around her and she begins to hyperventilates. “No no no no. Please Please don’t tell me I’m dead……”  

Jessica frowns hearing a young voice panicking and she whistles up at the girl. 

“Hey, Newbie! Come here for a minute.”

Maria swings down as the older woman takes off her googles, her warm eyes brings the younger girl to ease enough to ask,

“W-where am I?”

Hobie chuckles, thinking that the girl was confused after failing to jump. “You’re in the Lobby, remember? Didn’t Sunny give you a tour?” 

“Sunny? Whose that?” Maria looks at the duo confused as Hobie takes off his mask to look at the girl more closely. 

Jessica looks at the girl suspiciously as Hobie examines the masked girl. “Your suit is certainly different. It kinda looks like O’ Hara’s.”

Maria jumps at the mention of her last name and faces Hobie as her patience snaps. “How did you know that? And who are you guys and why are you guys dresssed lik-”

The manic girl halts as she hears a familiar voice call out from above. 

“Hey,guys!” The gentle voice calls out as she swings down from several platforms above with a friendly smile plastered on her unmasked face. Hobie and Jessica return her smile as she lands infront of them. Maria stares in horror as the duo greets the cheery spider.

“Oi, Sunny, whatcha swing up to,love?” Hobie jokes as he hugs the woman he viewed as his friend and sister figure. 

“Boss man sent me out to look at what fell through the portal while Lyla was rebooting.” She says calmly as Jessica scoffs. Miguel sending Sunny out to check something out? Nope, thats not how he ran things. He would rather send out everyone else before he would dare risk his sol getting injured.

“Boss sent you to check out a portal?” The beautiful woman asks as Sunny rubs the back of her neck, clearly leaving out some details.

“Well, an anomalous Hobgoblin managed to hack into Lyla’s systems and shut her down so it can escape…Our comms are down too..He said to get Hobie and Ben so they can investigate the scene actually…” The jumping spider admits as she feels her cheeks warm in embarrassment. 

Jessica chuckles at her friend’s confession as she remembers the new spider who was silent the whole time they were speaking.

“Oh yeah, well this new recruit came out of the portal.”She shrugs as she directed Sunny to the small blue spider woman. “You really need to give these new guys better directions for portal jumping.”

The now confused woman shakes her head as she looks at Maria before looking back at Jessica. 

“There aren’t any new recruits.” She states as she frowns at the still masked girl as she walks up to her. “Hey, whats your name, honey?” She asks in her familiar concerned voice that Maria just heard this morning.

It was her mother…well at least someone who looks like her mother. She was several years younger than her mom, clearly in her mid to late twenties. Other than that, she was her. Even down to the same facial markers and the always warm edge of her voice. What really drawn her back was the fact her mom, or this woman that looked like her was wearing a black spider suit like her own with white along her chest and inner lining of her limbs. 

“Holy shit…” The girl gasps at the woman before she slowly reaches up and removes her mask. Her dark eyes peers back at her ‘mother’s’ in shock before mumbling, “Mama?”

“Mama!?” Jessica screams in surprise before she quickly studies the now unmasked girl and the paling spiderwoman. The similar way their wide eyes meet each other while their matching jawlines stuck in an a gasps expression. They definitely looked the part…

(Y/N) was the first one to move as she slowly lifts her trembling hands up to the girl’s face and cups it in a gentle grasp. She carefully traces her features with a haunted look on her face, almost like she was looking for something in her face, or maybe someone. As realization forms in her face that this was in fact her child, tears began to bubble in her waterline as her lips trembled.

“You’re my baby?...I have a daughter…” She says outloud before gently tracing under Maria’s eye with a look of disbelief and love. Maria’s own eyes burn as she sees her mother’s face in her clone as she nods. “Yea…My name is Maria…Maria O’Hara.”

And with that new revelation, the cheery spider faints due to the shock while Jessica yells out for help while Hobie was frozen due to the fact that not only that Miguel O’Hara and his delightful sidekick have a child from a different dimension, but that she was actually hot.

~~~~~~~

Safe to say, Miguel was not happy. 

After Lyla successfully rebooted and came back online, Miguel went to dimension 1784-B and recaptured the Hobgoblin. He never felt such satisfaction than when he tackled the flying witch out of the sky and tore apart her glider with his bare hands. He wasn’t very pleased that the villain easily gotten her hands on one of the gizmos and some prototype traps he was working on, so he made sure that the femal hobgoblin would never dare attempt to do anything like that again.

.After he returned to the surveillance platform, his annoyance grew as he hears that not only did some spider woman he had no idea about came into the Lobby, but that some incident caused his sunshine to be taken to the infirmary. 

“Lyla,” The annoyed man calls to the AI as he walks towards the infirmary. A tiny version of his fur coat wearing digital assistant appears on his shoulder as he focuses ahead of him with a glare. He can practically feel all the blood vessels in his hand pop as clenched his fist as he thought about all the ways he was going to say to the woman who had the nerve to injure his amor. “Give me all the information on this spider.”

“Yes ‘Miggy’” Lyla teases as she pulls up the file. “Spiderwoman 1784-B aka Maria O’Hara. 18 years old and has been spiderwoman for 2 years. A student at NYU with an undecided major and lives with her two younger brothers, Gabriel and Ben O’ Hara and her parents…Oh Shit!” 

The miniature AI starts laughing as she clenches her stomach. Miguel growls at Lyla’s outburst and seethes. “What is it?”

As she recovers, she throws up a projection infront of him with a smirk. “Check this out. You and Sunny do get a happy ending!” 

Miguel freezes as his wide eyes look at the image infront of him with a tremble in his form. The image displayed was a family picture that was clearly taken at a high school graduation with a family of five huddled together with wide grins splitting their loving faces. The first to catch his attention was the vision of him standing beside a teenage girl with a boy no older than seven on his shoulders with a look of happiness and pride in his gaze as one arm was slung across the girl’s shoulder. He was clearly older than he was now, but the lack of red eyes and fangs made Miguel nearly not recognize him. Its been so long since he’s seen himself before becoming spiderman… The next thing that caught his attention was an older version of his beloved also smiling at the camera with a teenage boy on your side a gentle hand placed on his shoulder as the woman’s attention was focus gazing a her daughter with such joy.

The children were a perfect mixture of you both despite the obvious favour in appearance being on his side. He carefully examines each child and their features as he releases a shaky breath as a single tear escapes his eye. 

This was impossible…How can you two have a family somewhere in the spiderverse and he didn’t know? the two have a family…they got married…she gave him the most beautiful children he could ever dream of and they both weren’t spidermen…they met and fell in love with out the worry of the universe on their shoulders…But their daughter…Their girl has this…burden instead…

“Miguel?” The unease in the AI’s voice brings him back to reality as he rubs his eyes. 

“I’m fine.” He snaps as he materializes his mask back onto his face. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So we are all connected by this weird multiverse of spidermen?” Maria questions as she quips an eyebrow as she looks at the other teen.

“Yep.” Gwen nods as she leans back in the chair. 

The group were huddled around the hospital bed as their cheerful friend laid in bed unconscious. Upon pouncing the new spider about her life and what life was like on her dimension, Gwen took the initiative and began explaining about the Spiderverse, careful to avoid talking about the girl’s variant spider parents.

“And this is a team of Spiderpeople that goes around and makes sure that the events of their life goes on course? Like the time police? Does that mean theres other versions of me? “ She rapidly askes the punk. The blonde chuckles as she can definitely see how much of Sunny was actually in this girl. 

“Yep and kinda like that. We make sure the canon goes as planned so your universe doesn’t collapse. And when it comes to the other versions of you…” Gwen looks towards the unconscious spider before meet her ‘daughter’s’ curious gaze. “If theres other versions of Sunny and Miguel, then there is other versions of you.”

“Wait. Is there a spiderman version of my dad?” She asks as the door opens.

Jessica looks up from watching her phone and smiles at Miguel while Hobie curses. Miguel’s mask fades away as Hobie begins to speak.

“Look boss, the kid didn’t mean to…”

“Are you alright, Maria?” Miguel’s uncharacteristicially soft voice interrupts Hobie’s defense as his ruby eyes locked on the girl.

His rapid heart flooded his senses as he looked over his ‘daughter’. She didn’t look like Gabriella like he thought he would, even though he already seen her face. She looked like his sunshine despite her having a majority of his features. She was his girl, his beloved’s child…

“Um yea…”The starstruck girl mumbles as she looks at the variant of her father. Unlike the unconscious variant of her mom, the age wasn’t the biggest indicate that he was different from her dad, it was the gentle red eyes and the fangs peeking out from his lips. “Holy shit, you’re cool…” She accidentially admits out loud which causes the man to chuckle.

“Oye, no maldigas delante de tus padres, pequeña araña.” He playfully scolds before he starts fiddling with his gizmo. “I think its time you head home now. Its almost time for dinner and I’m sure ‘I’ wouldn’t like for you to be late.”

A portal opens beside them as Maria smiles at Miguel. “Cool…can I have one of those?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Well it was worth a try.” Maria giggles as she walks up to the portal before looking at Miguel concerned. “What about that Hobgoblin? And about…” The teenager looks towards her sleeping ‘mom’.

“I took care of it for you and don’t worry about her.” Miguel chuckles as he gazes lovingly at his love. “Yo siempre cuido de tu madre, ¿no?”

Maria grins as she feels giddy over the idea that no matter what dimension, her parents will always love each other.

“Yep and word of advice, stop having kids after one!” She jokes as she steps into the portal and goes home.

~~~~~~~

A soft groan emits from the bed as Miguel looks up from his book. The sleepy eyes of his love meets his as he leans over and caresses his cheek. 

“Good morning, mi amor…you had a good rest?” He coos as he pushes the hair away from her face. 

Tears prickle in her sleepy gaze as the memory of her new friend came back. In a horse whisper, she tearfully asks, “Did you see her? Did you meet our girl?” A smile forms on her face as Miguel nods and rests his forehead against hers.

“Sí, mi amor. Y ella era perfecta.”

~~~~~~

As the portal closes behind her, Maria looks around with a breath of relief as she sees shes in her bedroom back home. 

“Thank god that’s over-!”

Before the stress could finally leave her chest, a shattering sound of a phone screen snaps her attention to her brother Gabriel looking at her in shock. Maria looks horrified as she realizes she is in the middle of her bedroom in her spidersuit and unmasked infront of her little brother…

“SHIT!!!”

~~~~~~~~

Translations:

¡Tu madre ya te llamó dos veces! ¡Baja y come!- Your mother already called you twice! Come down and eat!

Chicos, no le faltéis al respeto a vuestro padre. La única razón por la que tu madre puede hacerlo es porque me echará de la cama.-You boys don't disrespect your father. The only reason your mother can is because she'll kick me out of bed.

¡¿Qué diablos dijiste?!- What the hell did you say?!

¡¡Miguel, no te atrevas a maldecir en la mesa de mi comedor!!- Miguel, don't you dare curse at my dining room table!!

Oye, no maldigas delante de tus padres, pequeña araña.- Hey, don't curse in front of your parents, little spider.

Yo siempre cuido de tu madre, ¿no?-I always take care of your mother, don't I?

~~~~~~~~~~

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[liliewrites]

Wouldn't mind requests she says.. hm then how about a soft smut for arlecchino ? I do love the way you wrote her and I'm a sucker for her being so in love with her s/o lol. Perhaps she saw you play with the children or help them with something and was overcome with the affection

Other than that I did mean to ask, are you excited for Wuthering Waves ? Some of these characters are kinda... 😳😳😳 Yinlin especially frfr

Oh and do you accept emoji anons ? Might be a bit easier lol, if you do could I have 🔥 ?

Have a lovely day :)

OMGGG HIII MY FIRST EMOJI ANON? HIIII 🔥 ANONN!!!:OO anyway, regarding WuWa, i have seen stuff about it but not really much updated about it since i've been busy but i do know that it's coming out tomorrow? iirc. but yea fear not for i WILL be playing it, BUT YEAAA yinlin omg and baizhi?? ughajshd who knows i might write about them too.. anyw enjoy anon!!!

-warning/s : NSFW, cunnilingus (r! receiving), tooth rotting fluff, super soft arlecchino, not proofread.

(men and minor dni utc!)

imo.. arlecchino is a person who genuinely loves and cares but prefers not to show emotion especially due to her profession and background (childhood too). she does not like being vulnerable at all and has trust issues with everyone, even the kids as they r still capable of betrayal, but she trusts you 100% with her vulnerability and what she sees as her "weaknesses" which is why she is more showy of her love and care towards you, hence why she is a lovesick fool for her s/o in my eyes hwjasdh sorry for yapping anyw here's ur fic that was supposed to be just a thirst.. haha.. this was also rushed and not proof-read so sorry for d mistakes.. HAHAHA (will elaborate about this behavior of hers in future fics..)

"f-father, may i have a moment?"

small hands tug on the harbinger's coat, and her deadpan eyes meet with those that belonged to a nervous toddler-- one of her children, to be specific. "what is it, my child?" she asked, tone devoid of any feeling, making it hard to guess what she was thinking, much to the child's anxiety of getting scolded by her.

"a-a.. a bouquet for you, father!"

frail little hands open up in front of her, a messy bundle of assorted wild flowers tied together with a sloppy ribbon had been presented to the knave. with a hum, the harbinger accepts the bouquet from the toddler's hands, gives her a pat on the head and the little darling scurries off.

her eyes follow the direction of where the child was headed to, the harbinger's curiosity was piqued and she wanted to know what had motivated the child to bring her flowers out of nowhere without any special occasion.

-- but as soon as she sees as to who the child runs to, she immediately has a clear answer to her question. of course, it was you, it was you who encouraged the child to give her flowers. with silent steps, she approached the slightly ajar of the bedroom's door, leaning on the wall next to it to hear your conversations with the child.

"ah, little love, have you given your father the bouquet you made?"

"y-yes mother! she even gave me a headpat.."

"hmm, now you see, my love? father is not scary at all, father can be strict with you, but it is only out of concern.. sharing is caring, little love, i am sure she'll appreciate a few flowers from time to time. now settle down, it is time for bed."

arlecchino stared at the "bouquet" in her hands, suddenly, it had more meaning to her than just a bunch of wild flowers. it was evidence of the child learning to give, and of course you were the one who taught them that. it was evidence of the child learning that they could be safe around her despite her outward appearance, and of course you were the one who assured them that. she was scary to most children, yes, for she had nurtured and raised them under the guise of a strict and unfeeling father just so she could raise them with proper discipline. although recently, even the younger kids, they have started to treat her more.. genuinely. ah, it must have been your doing. you must have been convincing them behind the scenes. she should hate you, for coaxing the kids in indulging with personal emotions that could cause them to have flaws as they grow up, but she doesn't. instead, she is thankful, because you've treated the kids with such gentleness and unconditional love-- she is thankful that you've treated her the same.

"oh! my beloved, have.. you been standing there all this time?"

a surprised gasp brings her back to her senses, the sound of the door closing behind her lover's back echoed through the hallway of the orphanage. "no, darling. i was simply checking up on you and the children, are they asleep?" arlecchino asks, choosing not to reveal to her wife that she had found out about your recent teachings. "yes, all tucked and away to dreamland." you smiled at her, walking up to her and pulling her in for a hug. the knave was not one for affection, that was made clear, but after a busy day- she cannot help but miss you too. "let's go to bed, my love. i wish to cradle you by my side tonight." you whisper to her ear, and arlecchino silently nods, her hand on your lower back.

as soon as you return to your bedroom with arlecchino, dressed in bed time clothes, the harbiner seemed to have other plans however as she immediately starts to pepper you with slow, soft and sensual kisses.

"my love, ah- you're.. strangely affectionate today, not that i don't like it, is there something on your mind?" you ask with that same gentle tone of yours, the same tone that reduces her to a lovesick fool whenever it's just you two, that lets her put down the wall she's built to let you in and show you what's inside her mind.

"nothing, my beloved.." she whispers, looking at you with adoration. it makes your heart skip a beat to see her like this. she leans in to kiss your forehead, a silent thank you for taking care of the kids.

".. i just simply wish to express my feelings. isn't that what you teach within this household?"

she adds, which confuses you a little. you were unsure about what she exactly meant, but you let her regardless. "okay, my beloved. express your feelings then." you mumbled with a silly smile, finding arlecchino's actions a bit adorable- quite similar to the children, even. arlecchino nods, a look of determination paints her face for a moment, then she leans in to kiss your cheek.

a silent thank you for loving her and seeing through her harsh demeanor. you can't help but feel flustered, feeling like a teenage girl and her first love.

she then moves on to kiss your neck in a ticklish manner, making you giggle, and it was music to her ears.

a silent thank you for introducing genuine warmth to the house of hearth. thanks to you, the orphanage burned with compassion and not with competitiveness. "beloved, aha- s-stop it!" you squirm with a chuckle, and arlecchino's face may not show it, but her heart is leaping at the sight of your gorgeous smile.

a kiss to your chest, making you gasp as her lips landed on your nipples. her tongue swirling gently around it, making you feel a subtle warmth from the intimacy of the moment.

a silent thank you for being a source of healing to her. before you, the word "mother" had brought chills up her spine, and she resented the word fiercely but after you? you had shown her what a real mother was like, and it's one of the many qualities you hold that she absolutely adores about you.

"mhm.. my beloved, is it gratitude that you wish to express?"

you asked, followed by a quiet moan as she releases your chest from her mouth with a pop. she was in awe of you, that you were able to read her mind without having to tell you. ".. yes, my beloved. how did you know?" she curiously asked, and you couldn't help but let out another chuckle. oh, this side of arlecchino was endearing, to see her openly express her thoughts. "you like to show your gratitude towards me in the form of kisses, arlecchino." you answered, bringing your hand to her head to pull her closer, then leaning in to kiss her forehead as well. "- but this is certainly the most intimate way you've shown it." you added, and she definitely felt a bit flustered. either way, arlecchino does not say a word, and chooses to continue expressing her emotions through actions.

her kisses go lower, and lower, and the sensitivity that you feel from increases.

silence rings throughout the room, except for your moans off the walls. her gratitude and devotion to you was as clear as day. her hands gently held you down by the hips as she pulled down your panties with her teeth. it was fucking hot, to see her hold you completely still with her strength alone-- and the eye contact that she kept as she stripped your pussy bare.

"my beloved, do i have permission?"

"of course, my love."

arlecchino knows that asking consent, despite it being already established beforehand, was a major turn on for you. she started by light kitten licks to your clit, making you gasp with each time her tongue made contact with the sensitive bud. the quick and light flicks were a tease, and made you tremble in anticipation.

"the mother of my children, what a pretty pussy you have.."

she mumbles in pure adoration, her breath lightly grazing against your exposed slit. you couldn't help but let out a shaky gasp of her name, "a-arlecchino.. please, do something.." you begged. "patience, my beloved." she answers, but dives right in between your legs to give your slit one, long, lick. it drove you crazy, but it felt so good. she slid her hands under your knees, bringing you closer to her, before holding onto your thighs to keep you spread apart.

"mm, you taste so splendid on my tongue, beloved.."

she moans, before finally indulging both you and her with the pleasure of her tongue roaming, exploring and pleasing your pussy. you started to squirm with the increasing intensity of her licks, and soon she was eating you out like a starved madman. thank god for strong hands, as you could barely keep yourself still, if it weren't for her holding you down you would have kept lifting yourself off the bed.

"a-arlecchino- arle-!"

you cried out her name, as her tounge darted inside you. you were close. so close. arlecchino however, was currently drunk on your moans and the taste of your slick, too busy savoring the raw taste of you, her lover. she hadn't noticed the way your cries were getting louder, or how tighter your grip on her head was becoming-- so she was surprised when you suddenly closed your thighs around her head, a bit of your fluids landing on her lips and tongue, accompanied with a loud cry of her name. she spread your legs apart once more and kept it open through the whole duration of your orgasm, wanting to see how your pussy throbbed and dripped, wanting to admire how pretty you were when you came undone because of her actions.

after you've settled down, she immediately joins you for a cuddle, she was not finished for the night- no, but she'd grant you a short moment of respite. she lays her head on your chest, closing her eyes as she listens to your heartbeat. "my love, i am still surprised how you've managed to notice my way of showing gratitude when i haven't realized it myself.", she mentions. you smiled at that, and looked at her. "to be known is to be loved. i love you, peruere."

she opens her mouth to speak, wanting to further inquire what you meant by that, but closes her mouth as she realizes what you meant once you call her peruere, the name that she hid away as it represents her past, her most fragile self, that only you've come to know instead of arlecchino, the name that spreads far and wide, which strikes fear and conquers respect from the hearts of many.

she nods in agreement, wrapping her arm around you tighter. her heart swelling from the feeling of loving and being loved, of knowing and being known. to be recognized. to be appreciated.

"i agree, my beloved. i am thankful that you've come to know me as who i really am, and stayed to love me despite what i've come to be. i love you too."

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Ortho flying with three floating tablets (representing his parents and Idia) behind him is such a MagiCammable moment, according to Cater and his sisters lol

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

"Oh my gosh! Who's this little cutie patootie?!"

"W-Wah...!" Ortho scarcely had any time to formulate an appropriate reaction before he was accosted from both sides. They had leapt out from the Queen of Hearts' statue, like jaguars pouncing on unsuspecting prey. The three tablets floating beside Ortho were sent spiraling.

"B-Bwah?!" Idia sputtered from his end, eyes bulging at what his video feed was picking up. There was his poor little brother, smothered by a pair of flashy women. "A normie sneak attack!?"

To Idia's horror, he could see painted nails studded with jewelry running all over the boy's face and hair. He leapt out of his gaming chair, seizing his computer monitor with both hands.

"C-Calm down, Ortho! CALM DOWN, DON'T PANIC!! Y-Your big brother will help you out of this pinch... e-except I don't know how to deal with 3D women!! Th-There's no dialogue selection option IRL...!!"

"You're the one panicking the most here, nii-san..."

"Now, Idia--" their father began--cool, level-headed.

"Hold on, dear," his wife interrupted. "Don't you think it's too soon to intervene?"

"... What are you saying?"

"I mean, these girls are only appreciating Or-kun's cuteness, right? I don't think there's anything wrong with acknowledging that! In fact, the world should be more familiar with how adorable both of our sons are...!"

"B-Betrayed by the mom?!"

"Ahahah... Sorry, Shroud fam~" Cater called as he, too, stepped out from his spot behind a statue. He didn't look particularly apologetic, not with that growing grin tugging at his mouth. "It looks like my sisters took an interest in your youngest. I guess it's not every day you see a bot as advanced as Ortho-chan is, but still!"

"J-Just what I needed... Another sparkly extrovert to complicate this scenario!!" Idia moaned, clutching at his forehead.

"You have to get a pic of us together, Cater!" one sister pouted. "This is too cool not to! Be sure to get the tablets in the shot too, okay?"

"Alright, I'll try." He casually produced his phone. "Everybody has to smush together first though, and Idia-kun's kinda out of frame--"

"Are you, like, for reals a robot?" the other sister demanded, ogling Ortho's metallic body. "That's not cosplay, right?"

"Hehe, nope! I'm one hundred percent custom built by my nii-san."

Idia loudly snorted, far less amused than his brother was. "Cosplay? Are you blind? I'm insulted that you'd even suggest such a stupid idea. Check out the rocket boosters in his feet, the complex circuity in his chassis, the artificial intelligence with a limitless capacity to learn. It's all Ortho."

"That's right! Our Idia built Or-kun from scratch all on his own!" Mrs. Shroud chirped. "Ahhh, our sons are our pride and joy! Aren't they, Papa?"

Mr. Shroud drew out a sigh. "... Yes, dear."

Their tablets drew close and snuggled (or attempted to). Idia could only imagine that his parents had embraced one another on the other end of the line. Hot pink and neon blue twinning.

"Oh, bleh." He rolled his eyes. Mom and dad are being gross and mushy in public again.

Suddenly, his video feed jerked down. Idia got a chunk of pavement, then an eyeful of twinkling makeup and nails. The first of the Diamond sisters had seized his tablet, posing with it in front of her.

"Is he, like, in frame now?" she asked Cater, who flashed her a thumbs up.

"Perfect~ Now everyone else can squeeze in!"

At Cater's direction, his other sister rushed over. Ortho was tugged along like a balloon on a string--though he didn't put up any resistance. The Shroud parents allowed their tablets to lower to the appropriate height for the picture. Cater held his phone out, the camera flipped.

All eager for the photograph except for one.

"D-Don't I get a say in this?!" Idia weakly protested.

Cater laughed--and it sounded a little mean to Idia, as light-hearted as it was. "Sure, you get a say in this! I'll let you know what to say: cheese!"

CLICK!

The selfie was taken. The Diamonds and the Shrouds, immortalized in a shared image.

[thedeathlysallows]

Santa Baby

Pairing: Loki x F!reader

Summary: Think of all the fun I've missed/ Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed/ I really do believe in you/ Let's see if you believe in me.

Warnings: Smut. Degradation, dirty talk, loss of virginity (reader's), dom!Loki, oral sex (f!receiving), breeding kink, unprotected sex, ever so slight Jotun!Loki. Loki hasn't had his redemption arc yet

Okay, so, I really have no excuses for this one. It's borderline crackfic but I did my best lol

"Nicholas!"

"Odin!"

You stand shoulder to shoulder with your brother as you watch your father embrace the Allfather. For as long as you can remember, this has been your family's Christmas tradition. After your father finishes delivering gifts all across the nine realms on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day is spent on Asgard with the royal family. You aren't sure why it's a tradition- the elves say it's because Odin was the one to gift your father his powers, to create Santa Claus as the worlds know him- but you've learned over the years it's best not to argue about it.

(There was one year you wanted to spend Christmas at home in the North Pole like a normal family... and your mom fainted from the shock. The elves wouldn't talk to you for a month (which wasn't all that disappointing if you were to be honest). So you considered that lesson learned and never brought it up ever again.)

You watch as your mother greets Frigga next, the two of them looking like the epitome of the Mother archetype. Frigga with her regal air and your mother with her kind smile. You can't imagine ever having to step into their roles and you feel relieved you'll never have to. Your brother is set to be the next Santa and his wife will be Mrs. Claus. Odin's throne will go to Thor and his wife we'll be Queen of Asgard.

All you have to be is yourself.

Free to make your own rules.

To forge your own path.

To-

"Hello, little one." Loki smiles at you fondly and steps towards you. His hands are bound in front of him and the chains draped over his body rattle with each movement.

You tilt your head, observing him closely. "Loki. I knew you were on my dad's Naughty list for the whole New York thing, so I guess it makes sense you ended up on Odin's list too."

His smile morphs into a nasty sneer as he bares his teeth at you. A guard yanks on the chain around his neck, pulling him an appropriate distance from you.

"Must we do this today," Frigga whispers to her husband. "It's the last day of Yule. Let Loki have an hour of freedom."

"And what will that hour cost us," Odin counters.

Your father raises his hand. "If I may? The kids have been working on their magic and sugar plum over here has a real talent for it. I'm sure she could keep Loki in line for an hour."

Loki's eyes burn a hole into the side of your skull as he says, "Yes. The Santa baby can watch me."

"For an hour," you add, turning to your dad. You point a finger at the jolly old man. "And only an hour."

Odin strokes his beard thoughtfully, considering every possible outcome of letting Loki free for a bit. Eventually, he bangs his staff against the shimmering golden floor and Loki's chains fall away. Loki, for his part, makes an effort not to appear too eager. He rubs his wrists and rolls his neck before squaring his shoulders and turning to you.

"I'm at your mercy for the next hour, sugar plum."

And the way he says it so seductively has you reaching the realization that maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

You fidget uncomfortably, balling the ends of your long sleeves in your hands. Loki watches your twitchy movements silently. That's how he's always watched you. Ever since that first meeting when you were nothing more than a child coming to terms with her father being the Santa Claus. He's always watched you silently, thoughtfully, like he's waiting for you to decide who you'll be... and maybe, just maybe, if there will be a place for him beside you when you do decide who to be.

"I'm already regretting this," you say out loud to no one really.

No one is paying attention anymore anyway.

No one except Loki who places a hand at the small of your back and gestures in front of you with the other. "Come, we both know you're foaming at the mouth to get to the garden."

You can't help the eyeroll his words induce. "How eloquent."

"Thank you."

"I wasn't complimenting you."

Loki purses his lips, fighting back a grin. "No, you would never do that, would you?"

"Just shut up and follow me."

He pretends to zip his mouth shut and throw away the key, earning an aggravated groan from you.

If you were to be honest, you don't find Loki's presence all that objectionable. Sure, his ego is out of hand, he tried to take over your home planet, he can be a real pain in the ass, sassy, confrontational, a know it all... wait, what was your point again? Oh, right! Loki has many, many, many faults, but he's always been kind to you. Deep down you know his affection for you doesn't truly account for the monstrosities he's committed, but it does make him ten percent less Naughty in your eyes.

"When will you tell Jolly Old Saint Nicholas that I've been the one helping you with your magic, sugar plum."

Okay. Five percent less Naughty.

"Never," you say without looking at him. Instead you fix your eyes on the garden up ahead.

He clicks his tongue. "How absolutely Naughty of you. I approve."

Two percent.

"I don't need your approval. And stop calling me sugar plum!"

Loki stops walking abruptly, forcing you to turn around and meet him face to face. Or face to chest rather. He's taller than you by several inches and his broad figure almost blocks out the steadily rising sun. Hues of pink, orange, and purple burst from behind him in pastel streaks of color. The wind is soft and gentle as it wraps around the two of you, pressing your bodies ever closer. If you could paint you think you would paint him just as he is now, all soft edges and gentle eyes.

He shakes his head. "You don't need it, but you want it. You crave it, don't you, my darling?"

You think you prefer him calling you sugar plum. That feels far less intimate than hearing the words my darling come out of his mouth.

"I don't want anything from you," you say full of false bravado.

"Oh?" Loki pulls you in to his body and tilts your chin up with his thumb and forefinger. "Not even my cock? I think if I were to bend you over this balcony and fuck that tight little cunt of yours, you'd thank me by the end of it. Wouldn't you, sugar plum?"

You swallow the lump in your throat and will away the rising heat in the pit of your stomach. "I said stop calling me that, Loki."

"Then what would you prefer, hmm?" His lips are centimeters from yours, teasing you by brushing against you ever so lightly as he speaks. "You positively lit up when I called you my darling. How does my queen sound? Better yet, how about my whore?"

"Stop."

"Did you make it to the Nice list this year? No sneaking around and kissing boys behind my back?"

You grit your teeth, embarrassment washing over you with the realization that you actually enjoy having him talk to you like this. "Stop. I know what you're trying to do."

"And what would that be?"

"You want me to give up on you like everyone else. There's a past between us whether we like it or not and you want me to just... forget it. Let it go. Everyone else already believes you're a monster and you can't stand that there's one person in the world who still believes you can be good."

Silence stretches out between the two of you like a snake sunbathing on a rock. It's an almost tangible sensation. All you can hear is the air rushing through your lungs as Loki's chest rises and falls at an alarming rate.

"Is this the part where we hug and I thank you for always believing in me? Because... no, I don't think I'll do that," Loki finally says after a few painful seconds.

You huff in frustration, spinning on your heel to go back inside and forget the whole deal. You'll lock yourself in a guest room with some delicious Asgardian mead and that'll be that. This whole sexual tension thing with a man you shouldn't want in the first place will disappear along with the alcohol.

Before you can take a step forward and put you're new Christmas Day plan into motion, Loki grabs you by the arm and pulls you back. His chest presses into your back, a warm and solid wall of muscle.

"Where do you think you're running off to, sugar plum?" He bends down and whispers the words in your ear, his lips ghosting over your skin and leaving goosebumps all over your body.

"Your hour's up."

"I've still got forty five minutes."

"Yeah, well... I'm finished with this."

Loki slips an arm around your waist, grinding his hardened length into your ass. "You're through when I say you're through, and right now I want you down on your knees worshipping."

"But... we're outside..."

The protest dies on your lips as green sparks emanate from Loki's fingertips, circling the two of you before sinking back into his palm.

"There," he says simply. "Problem solved. Now if anyone were to walk by they would simply see us admiring the flowers. Now, on your knees."

You let him push you down on your knees, his long fingers curling in your hair. Through the tight leather of his trousers you can make out the imprint of his cock. You won't be able to take all of him in your mouth. There's just no way. You're willing to try though, you think to yourself as you look up into the familiar green-blue of his eyes.

He helps you undo his pants, picking up the slack when your nervous fingers tremble while untying the laces. He's eerily patient and allows you to take your time. Build your courage as it were. You want this. You know you do. You're just... nervous.

The realization strikes Loki suddenly. "You're a virgin?"

The accusation- however true- doesn't sit right in your chest. "Do you want me to do this or not?"

Loki's eyes shine bright with absolute glee. "You are!"

"Loki-"

The world swirls and warps around you, the oxygen leaving your lungs in a sudden woosh. You suddenly find yourself in your usual guest chambers. Still on your knees. Still out of breath.

"Much better!" Loki sighs happily before making himself comfortable on the large bed. "Actually, one more thing."

A fire roars to life in the hearth and the bright gold decorations littering the room turn a deep shade of emerald.

"Lest you forget who you're with," he explains simply.

"I couldn't if I tried." You look at Loki out of the corner of your eye as he lounges on the bed. His pants are undone, exposing the deep V of his pelvic muscles and a light dusting of hair. He looks at you so intently you feel like you might explode. "What?"

Loki motions for you to come closer. "I want you to come on my face, sugar plum."

You swear your body just gives out as soon as you hear the words. "W-what?"

He growls and sits straight up. "You are going to walk that pretty little arse over here, and then your are going to straddle my face, so I can lick your cunt until you come."

It takes everything in you to do exactly as he says. You aren't completely inexperienced and you aren't a complete idiot either. You know what the fire in your belly and the slickness between your thighs means. You want Loki, wanted him for years. Never in your wildest dreams did you think he actually wanted you too.

It's a Christmas miracle in your opinion.

When you make it to the edge of the bed Loki tuts at you, toying with the hem of your dress. "I meant to comment earlier, but this is the most horrid thing I've ever seen."

Your brow furrows. "Hey! Sprinkle made this for me!"

"Sprinkle." The way Loki says the elf's name almost sounds like a curse.

"You've met him before. Back a few- oof!"

Loki rips the dress to tatters in the blink of an eye. You want to hit him, curse him, something, but he moves too quickly. Instead you make a mental note to apologize to Sprinkle when you get home, and let Loki manipulate your body so that your kneeling over his face. His breath on your core sends a shiver through your body.

"Loki," you whine, gripping at his hair.

"Good girl," he moans out as you tug on the long, dark strands. "Let's see if you taste as sweet as you look."

His tongue laves at your folds, teasing you. It's strange but nice and exhilarating all at once. Your hips buck involuntarily when he finally slips his tongue inside you and he sighs happily against your skin.

"Fuck, yes," Loki groans.

You whimper pathetically.

"I need inside you. Now," he says against your soaked cunt. "I need you, darling."

All you can do is nod. Your bones feel like jelly, but you want more. You want him. You want him inside you. You want him to come inside you. You want it so badly you can almost imagine a future filled with children who have your hair and his eyes.

When he looks up at you there's a split second where you think he sees that future too.

Loki ends the moment quickly though, telling you to get on your back. He positions his cock at your entrance and you have a momentary lapse in confidence. You don't want him to stop, but he's bigger than you could've guessed, and-

"Relax." Loki presses his mouth to yours, nipping at your bottom lip. "You were made to take this cock."

You nod and angle your hips up so his tip slips inside you. Your unused muscles twitch against the intrusion, making Loki hiss out something in Old Norse. One of his hands wraps around your throat while the other pins your hips against the bed. Using this leverage he pushes his entire length inside you, swallowing your screams with his lips. Loki pumps in and out of you slowly, watching your face for signs of discomfort.

"M-more," you sigh. "Harder... more... please..."

His breath hitches. "Are you sure, my darling?"

"Yes!"

"Very well." Loki's hips snap, shoving himself even deeper inside you.

Your hands fly to grip his biceps. His skin is colder. Colder than you've ever felt it. And there's a slight blue tinge.

"Loki, fuck... oh my god..."

His hand not wrapped around your throat slaps across your cheek. "My king. Say it. Say I'm your king."

You manage a tiny nod. "You're... you're my king..."

Loki's grip tightens and his pace quickens. You can feel his thick cock sliding in and out of you, stretching you around him, forcing his way deep inside you.

"L-Loki..." You let out a short whine. "Come inside me. Please. I need it. Please, please..."

He chuckles darkly. "How pathetic. You're begging like a common whore. Is that what you are, darling? Are you my whore?"

"Y-yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, my king."

Loki, seemingly satisfied by your answer, lifts your leg over his shoulder and shoves his way deeper inside you. There's a painful burn as you adjust to the new angle and pace, but the look of ecstasy on Loki's face is enough to send you over the edge again. You come on his cock once more, but this time he comes with you, filling you until it leaks out.

You aren't sure when you closed your eyes, but when you open them Loki is looking at you with a strange expression.

"My hour is up," is all he says.

[logical-grave]

✧ Pretty little thing ✧ Ch. 3

♡ Pairing ♡ - Rafe Cameron x Plus Size!Reader

♡ Warnings ♡ - Smut ofc, angst, asshole!Rafe, Semi-Public sex, unprotected sex (they never learn), dirty talk, crude language, creampie.

♡ A/N ♡ - I'm so sorry i disappeared! I promise I'm trying to do better! Hopefully this fic makes up for it lol. Lmk what you think! Definitely some repeated writing lol but I’m trying to improve!!!

♡ Word count ♡ - 3.1k

♡ Part 1, Part 2 ♡

When I told Rafe of the camera, he shrugged it off and bit into his sandwich, crumbs falling down his chin onto his plate. “Rafe, we could be charged with public indecency. I could lose my job too.” I cross my arms as I look at him. 

He gave me a blank look and took another bite of his sandwich, hunched over it with his elbows rudely taking up the space on either side of him. 

“I’m just not sure what the fuck you expect me to do about it.” He shrugged, tossing a chip into his mouth. He reacted more when I took it upon myself to come over unannounced, but now it seems like he couldn’t care less. 

I hated how nonchalant he was being about this whole situation, and it just spoke volumes at how untouchable he thinks he is. I guess if you’re as rich as he is, you start to actually believe it.

I stared at him in disbelief, annoyance brewing internally. “Besides, I’ve been wanting to record us having sex for a while.” He casually drops and the urge to jump over the kitchen island and choke him surges through me, but I don’t act on it. 

Rafe finishes his sandwich and stands up, placing his plate in the dishwasher before leaning against the counter and looking at me. “If you really want me to get rid of it, I'll see what I can do.” He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face as if he’s being inconvenienced.

I give him a fake smile and grab my keys off the counter. “Was that so hard?” The comment comes off harsher than intended, but he’s pissed me off too much in the past half hour alone, and I’ve reached my limit. I turn the corner of the kitchen, but a chest in my view stops me. I look up, and I’m met with the heavy gaze of Mr. Cameron, Rafe’s father. 

“Hello sir.” I step to the side to allow him to walk past me, and he smiles as he looks between Rafe and I. “Well, who’s this, Rafe?” 

Mr. Cameron places a hand on my shoulder, leading me back closer to my previous position. “She’s my…friend. And she was just leaving.” He says with his arms crossed. Jeez, I’ve never had such a warm introduction. I could tell he wasn’t keen on introducing me to his father, adding to the list of reasons to not be happy with my unexpected visit.

Mr. Cameron turns to me, his eyes shifting over different points of my face as if to determine if I was attractive enough to be in the vicinity of his son. 

“Rose was just about to make some lunch, why don’t you join us?” He asks, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up, an underlying feeling telling me it wouldn't be wise to stay. “Thank you, sir, but I should really get going, as I have work soon.” 

I politely declined, soothing the goosebumps that arose on my arm, and I started past him, but his hand on my shoulder stopped me again. “The country club, correct? I thought I recognized you from somewhere.” He inquires and I nod, looking at Rafe and hoping he can hear my soft plea of getting me out of this. 

“I’ll walk you out.” Rafe pushes off the counter and towards me, gripping my elbow, but his father doesn’t move his hand. 

“I insist, sweetie.” He says and I hold back a grimace, my mind connecting him to the club creep that almost got Rafe to risk his membership. “No, thank you. I should get going.” I chuckle dryly, sliding closer to Rafe’s side and Mr. Cameron’s hand drops to his side, giving up his hold on me. “Well, you’re always welcome here.” He winks as Rafe pulls me toward the entrance of his house before I could respond, thankful he did so. 

“You’re hurting me.” I pout as I look at his tight hold on my elbow, the squeeze making me feel like a child being scolded by her parents. He doesn’t let go until we reach my car, the pain subsiding as I inspect my arm for any bruising. 

It hurt less when he held me like that when we were fucking. “Don’t do this shit again,” He wags his finger in my face. “I don’t need you showing up at my house with my fucking family here.” 

I faced him with an angry expression, ready to open my mouth before shutting it. “Got it.” I mutter, my fist clenching around my keys, the dull metal subtly digging into my skin.

The fifteen hundred he had given me the week prior was nice and I didn't want to risk potentially lowering my allowance by opening my mouth. It’s one of the things I know for a fact Rafe hates about me yet, I persist. 

I reach for the handle of my car, beginning to open it until Rafe reaches over my head and shuts it. I turn as he sighs and pinches the skin between his eyebrows before looking into my eyes. “I- Just, my dad is weird when it comes to any girl he sees around me. He thinks they're trying to get money out of all the time.” The corner of his lip upturns as a chuckle sounds from him. 

Slowly, I nod and pull on the handle of my car once more, this time he doesn’t stop me. I sit in my seat but Rafe stands, holding my door open and leaning towards me with his arm resting on the roof of my car. 

“I want to see you later. I’ll meet you down at the dock, one o’clock.” He slyly grins, hooking his finger under my chin like he did not too long ago, pressing his lips against mine. It was a new practice he started and he always initiated. I’ve thought about it, yet when I start to lean in, a big red X appears over his perfectly structured face and I stop myself. Rafe parts from me and I push away his face with a chuckle. “I’ll see you, Cameron.” 

I shut the door and pulled out of his driveway, glancing at him as he watched me go.

—

My fingers crossed through his hair as I ran my nails over his scalp once again. Sometimes, he enjoyed the effortless intimacy of his head in my lap. His arm wrapped around my ass to meet his other arm resting under my legs. I knew the weight of my legs would put his arm to sleep in seconds but he didn’t care. In fact, I think he loved the prick of a million tiny needles in his arm as it fell asleep as long as he got to cradle me like this. 

Maybe I’m just telling myself that. Either way as the yacht slowly rocks from the subtle waves of the marsh, he closes his eyes and we settle into the domestic atmosphere that surrounds us, slightly tipsy from the forgotten bottle of Jack Daniel’s we tossed back and forth.

He sighs, his breath breezing over my thigh as I look down at him, taking in his sharp cheekbones and lips that look ready to be kissed. His hand on my ass cheek twitches, almost as if he was making sure I was still here, even in his supposed sleep. His other hand under my legs moved to rest on the side of my thigh as I gasped softly when he hugged me closer to him. Even now, I wondered how the hard fiberglass base of the boat was comfortable for the rest of his body.

Rafe sighs again, this time his eyes open, blinking the sleep away. He tilts his head up, resting his chin on my thigh and pulling me closer to him again. “Rafe, we should head back.” I suggest, my fingers rake down his scalp and slip under the neckline of his shirt, scratching his back. He groans under his breath, not acknowledging what I had said earlier, instead relishing in the feeling of my nails scraping on the smooth skin of his back. 

I stop, making him open his eyes again and look up at me. He moves up now and I sit back on the heels of my feet as he sidles up close to my side, his hand resting behind me, supporting his weight, his chest close to my shoulder. Personal space, be damned. I turn my head and look at him, my hand cupping his cheek as he stares at me. “What?” I look at him and he shakes his head slightly. I would’ve missed it if I hadn’t had my hand on his cheek. I watch his eyes wander over my cheeks, down to my lips, even lower to my chin and finally my eyes. 

And then, he leans in, pressing the soft plump of his lips against mine. His eyes are closed before mine are and I inhale deeply as we kiss. My skin tingles with his lips against mine, the way he kisses is almost methodical yet sloppy with need. He deepens the kiss, his tongue pushing past the seam of my mouth, licking my tongue with his own when he turns his head a particular way. 

His hand wanders, as it always does to my breast, squeezing me through the lace fabric of my dress, pinpointing exactly where my nipple is, causing it to perk up. The kiss turns wet, our mouths gliding against each other as his hold becomes more insistent. His hand smoothes down my side to my hip before clenching his hand on the lace of my dress and pulling me into his lap, the sound of the small rips of his fingernails digging into lace is lost on both of us. I straddled him now, hiking the skirt of my dress higher up my thighs where both of his hands rested. 

I don’t even acknowledge the anxiety of being too heavy to sit on his lap, his hold feeling so familiar, it’s as if I’m supposed to be here. His lips trail kisses down my jaw to my neck, almost considerate of where he places them. He nuzzles his face into my neck, inhaling deeply as his hands grip the round of my ass cheeks, grinding his crotch against my own. 

“Fuck— I need you.” His voice is breathless, desperate, almost as if he’s begging me. He palms at my ass cheeks again, spreading them open to grind up against me once more, making me gasp at the friction he offers as my clit rubs against the rough denim fabric of his jeans. 

He pushes the rest of my dress up, bunching it at my waist, groaning when he sees I’m bare as he’s requested of me. His eyes are dark again, almost black like an abyss, the lust that’s clouding his mind clearly marking his intentions. Rafe tugs on the strap of my dress, pulling it down my shoulder until it snaps against my skin, the rip of the seams making me gasp softly against his lips. 

He grunted in triumph, it seemed. As if the strap of my dress was a harsh reminder that I wasn’t completely naked yet. “Rafe,” His name is shallow in my throat, making me think nothing more should come from my mouth other than breathy moans, the kind he drew out of me. Rafe pulled down on the top of my dress, exposing my breasts to him, my other strap tearing as well. 

He continues to leave sloppy kisses down my neck before roughly palming my tit and kneading it. He rolls my perked nipple between his lips, his tongue gliding over it in a disrespectful tease and I wince, pulling on his hair, making him smirk. “So responsive…”

Rafe parts from me, tugging off his shirt and discarding it behind himself, his other hand already struggling with his jeans. I sit back on his lap as he hooks his fingers to slide his jeans down to his knees, his cock springing up with a bead of pre-cum running down his shaft. His tip had a purple tint, almost pleading to be taken care of. “See what you fuckin’ do to me?” He groans, his hands pulling my hips to hover over his cock, making me shakily gasp. He winces as he slides the tip of his cock through my folds, splitting them as he taps my clit, making me mewl softly. My nails dig into the tan skin of his shoulders as I slowly and cruelly sink down on his cock. “Fuuuck.”

His arm wraps around my waist as he eases me down until I bottom out, a shudder running up my spine as I feel the slight burn of his cock stretching me out. “Oh, fuck.” I feel myself blush, a harsh breath leaving my lips as he fills me up. Rafe’s hands fall onto my hips, his eyes half-lidded as he looks me over. “Fuck, you look so good sitting on my cock.” He mutters, his hand pulling on the lace of my dress again, the fabric ripping from his harsh grip.

“R-really?” I ask nervously, biting my lip as I whimper softly, my hips moving on their own volition as I ride him. He flexes his hips upward, burying himself deeper inside me as he grins up at me. “Oh, fuck yes..." He murmurs, his thumbs caressing my skin. “Look at how you take me..." 

He’s hurting me, I think. His fingers are digging deep into my hips but it only feels like a slight push, the pleasure clouding my mind doesn’t allow me to register it. Rafe grunts as he straightens up, meeting my hips with an upward thrust, his breathing growing heavier with each one. “Come on, lean back for me.” He pants, his hold on my hips loosening, almost reluctantly to allow me to support myself on my knees.

Leaning back, I give Rafe a better view of his cock disappearing inside me, making him groan at the sight, his bruising grip returning to my hips again. “You look so beautiful like this.” He says in a strangled tone, his hand reaching up to press on the sides of my throat before splaying out on my chest. I let out small gasping pants as Rafe drove into me faster, his arms hugging me closer to him, causing me to arch my back, presenting my tits to his mouth. My thighs burn from being held open so long but I ignore it, too infatuated with his touch. Rafe hums, suckling on one of my nipples as his thrusts become punishing, my head falling back as I feel myself slipping into my orgasm. “Not yet,” Rafe pants, “I don’t wanna stop.” 

His words come out akin to a whine or a desperate plea, enough to make my orgasm attempt to still. My eyes fall onto his as I feel all thoughts of reason leave my mind, my lips opening to speak but the words come out quicker than I realize. 

“I love you.”

My mouth hangs open as I process my words. Rafes expression falters, his pace almost hesitant to stop but he doesn’t. Instead, he drops his head in the crook of my neck, grunting softly as I feel his teeth nip at my skin. His hold on me strengthens, almost painful as he continues to use me for his own pleasure. Rafe lets out a guttural groan as he cums, his hips jerking harshly as he spills into me, his cock pulsing and throbbing as my walls clench around him, my own orgasm crashing with his own. 

Rafe huffs, falling back to rest on the bunch of pillows propped up behind him, his torso glistening with a sheen of sweat as he draped his arm over his eyes. “Off.” He urges, lightly smacking my thigh and I wince as I climb off his lap, ignoring the need to squirm as I feel his cum drip out of me, making me squeeze my thighs together. The bundle of nerves in my stomach begins to rage and thrash internally, the inside of my cheek chewed up to the point of no return. “Rafe, I-”

“I’m taking you home.” His words were final, leaving no room for argument. It’s silent between us, the only sound being the rustle of our clothing as we put them back on and adjust them. Rafe is quick to his feet, walking to the back of the yacht to go to the console area of the boat. I debated with myself whether I should go up there as well and I found myself behind him before I could decide.

The silence between us stretches uncomfortably, his hold on the large metal steering wheel making his calloused knuckles turn white. I walk closer to him, his head turning to look at me from his peripheral vision and I take his look as a warning. I toy with my fingers, sighing as I sit on one of the captains chairs, enjoying the low wake under the yacht as we approach his dock. Rafe shuts off the engine, reaching into the storage box and handing me my keys and my phone, still no words exchanged. He moves past me quickly off the yacht, no regard to make sure I make it safely off myself. 

“Rafe!” I call out, watching his frame still at the end of the dock, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He rounds, his face contorted with anger and he stalks towards me in two simple strides. “You know better!” He huffs, “We agreed to fuck. You just provide a convenient distraction, nothing more.” Rafe cruelly states, towering over me, putting me exactly where he’d like me to be. My chest fills with hurt, his words cutting deep and I’m tempted to wince.

“I slipped up! I didn’t fucking mean it!” Rafe lets out an amused cold chuckle. “Don’t slip up, it’s simple.” 

“Fuck you, Rafe.” I spit out, pushing past him to my car. Rafe scoffs behind me. “You go fuck right off, It’s just going to be a matter of time before you’re on your knees for me again, doing what you do best and gagging on my cock.”

I considered turning around, slapping him and spitting in his face. Yet, I don’t, instead choosing to ignore him and leaving him standing under the same moonlight he told me I looked beautiful under.

[leggerefiore]

so I have an angst request that I’m wondering if you could do. I love the fankids but I’m wondering if for some reason the fankids end up in another world. Where they don’t exist. Their respective parents exist but due to some nonsense (Cyrus and his refusal to stop, Grimsley cheating, Nanu pushing reader away) their parents never got together and now they are stuck in such an unfamiliar place without the comfort of their parents. They stay with reader and the pokemen realize that in another world they are happy and have a loving family. So lots of angst from all sides until one day the real parents come to rescue their children and take them away. Leaving the people in this weird world confused and in despair. Hope that makes sense! Idk why I am in such a mood lol

cw: angst, some (not) parental arguing in cyrus's part, cheating in grimsley's, fankids amuck

characters: Grimsley, Cyrus, Nanu

i wrote this for no one to read lmao. changed the request a bit sorryyyy

interesting

♠️Grimsley❤️

♤ Nero held tightly onto Morrigan as they looked around at their surroundings. It was still Alola, same as ever. A place he originally had been upset about moving to, yet now it was a comfort to see. The Ultra Wormhole had been a surprise, both had not been expected such a thing to just pull them in. Nanu had warned them – Telling them stories of fallers without memories ending up in unknown places. They had not had their memories scrambled, at least. Well, he had not. Morrigan had fallen unconscious. It seemed that it likely had just looped them back around. He bravely supported his twin on his shoulder and headed towards the nearest pokemon centre.

♡ Yet, as he headed to the one near the Tapu Village, he passed a familiar man. A man who was just about to walk past them when he felt his annoyance spike. How could he ignore his son and daughter like that!? It was frustrating enough that his father never seemed to learn from his mistakes. His glare seemed to make the gambler come to a stop. “… May I help you?” he asked, “Are you playing the hero to a helpless damsel with the hopes of winning big in the end?” Nero felt like gagging. That was his sister.

◇ “… You're not funny, dad,” Nero grumbled, “Help me with Morrigan. She's been unconscious for a minute, and I'm seriously worried.” He went to move his sister to the older man, but Grimsley took a step back. Icy blue eyes observed him for too closely before switching to Morrigan. He cocked up a brow and brought a hand to his chin. “… Dad,” Nero urged, “Seriously. Help. This is your daughter. Don't you care about her?” This once more caught the gambler off guard. There was much pondering.

♧ “Can you tell your parent I don't appreciate being informed of such a monumental thing in this way?” was Grimsley's reply, “Do they want child support or something? I'm completely broke these days. They played their hot hand too late.” Nero felt frustrated. Was he mocking them? This truly was not the time. He felt Morrigan begin to stir. Her head lifted as she looked around and grasped her head. Then, her gaze landed on Grimsley.

♤ “Dad!” she smiled and moved to hug the gambler, “Nero and I got pulled into one of the Ultra Wormholes!” Grimsley awkwardly dodged her affection. She tilted her head, unsure if this was her dad messing with her. “… Well, I guess it was mostly my fault,” she admitted, “The thrill of whether we would end up in some strange alien world was too much to resist.” His expression was strange at her words. She shrunk back. He almost looked like he was regarding her as one might an insect.

♡ “… I don't know what lies you have been fed,” he let out a breath, “But, I have little interest in being a dad. I doubt you're my only children out there. Just because I had some on and off again relationship with your parent doesn't mean I'm interested in you.” He shook his head. Morrigan took a step back, confused. It was the first time in her like in which her father had ever spoken so harshly to him. Nero stepped forward and stomped a foot at him, already sick of his shit. Whatever game he was playing at, he was taking too far. Being cruel to Morrigan for seemingly no reason and insulting their other parent was too much. Grimsley actually looked a bit intimidated. “… They should have told you this. I made that clear before we broke up.”

◇ Both stood shocked. Broken… up? Neither could recall their parents being unhappy with another despite the circumstance that had happened to them. In fact, if anything, their other parent had been happy Grimsley had more time to lavish on them. Both looked at one another in horror at the thought. This had to be another world. Or Grimsley was really messing with him, but both could tell his expression was too real. “… What?” he questioned, cooking a brow at the twins, “Did they not tell you? Apparently, when I started dating them, I wasn't supposed to keep sleeping around.” Nero had to be physically held back. Though, it did confirm that this was not their world.

♧ Before the situation could intensify any further, a familiar voice called out their names. Both stood astonished when their father seemingly appeared with you in strange not-quite spacesuits. The other Grimsley took a few steps back when his counterpart removed his helmet. “… Oh, man, you two actually nearly gave me a heart attack,” he seemingly ignored his lookalike to approach the two kids, “You certainly did Nanu. The old man was calling all the shots on your missing investigation. Didn't think he was that attached to you both.” He brought a hand to rest on each of their shoulders. Morrigan soon shoved Nero out of the way to cling to Grimsley. Nero watched as the other one observed how you approached them, too, smiling softly. He should have felt at ease.

♤ “… What a situation,” the other Grimsley remarked, placing a hand on his hip. It was clear that he could comprehend this scene. Yes, he understood Ultra Wormholes thanks to Nanu's badgering about avoiding them, but here stood a testament to something far greater than his understanding. Something inside of him twisted at the sight of the happy family. It was something that he never desire, but he could observe the genuine smile on his counterpart's face. “… Did something happen to your head?” he questioned his alternate self.

♡ That Grimsley managed to escape his daughter's hold. Turning to his counterpart, he tilted his head. “… Nope,” his simple reply was with a shrug, “I fell in love. I simply couldn't resist them, and now I've built myself up something. It's better than any high from a thrill.” He pointed the twins to follow you as he headed away. “When you really want something as yours… It drives you into a special kind of madness.” He bid his counterpart farewell and walked over wrap an arm around his partner's waist.

That Grimsley pondered if he could have ended up like his counterpart.

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ Cyllene would admit she was perhaps a little too playful. Even if she was a child, there were certain things she knew better than to do yet still did. Engaging with Palkia was chief among them. The legendary had opened a portal, and she, curious crawled in. Which led to her seemingly being atop Mt Coronet. She was lost as to what had happened, but simply assumed that Palkia had created a portal to the top of the mountain. She opted against thinking too much on it, as nothing was immediately odd or uncommon. That was until she found herself riding the train back towards Veilstone. Most people glanced at her strangely. It made her a bit nervous, but she otherwise made her home trip as normal.

☄️ The glances in Veilstone were far more intense as she was spotted by some Galactic grunts. She tilted her head at their reaction. They gazed at her like some unexpected oddity. She ignored them and simply made her way to apartment her family resided in. It was only as she approached the door that she realised she did not have her key. Nervously, she brought her tiny fist to knock against the door. It was quiet for far too long until the speaker beside the door beeped on. “… Are you lost?” It was unmistakably the voice of her father, “There is a police box just a few buildings down. They can help out find your parents.” Cyllene stood stunned. Her eyes went wide, and her heart raced in her chest. Her father was not one for such jokes. Tears burned her eyes.

☄️ “… F-Father…?” her voice was small. The PA system was quiet for but a moment. Then a reply. A simple questioning, “Pardon?” Cyllene moved closer to the speaker, knowing it doubled as a camera. “… Dad…” she begged, “Please…. please don't tease me…” She felt like crying. More silence followed before the door clicked open to reveal the man who was no doubt her father. He was wearing more casual clothing and his hair was unstyled, but it was him. She clung to his legs and felt herself begin to cry. Why was he being mean to her?

☄️ This Cyrus stood stunned, however, at this little girl who stood outside his home. He was no fool. The resemblance was plain as day. This child was a relative of his, if not directly related to him. Some horrible sense of empathy burned in his hardened heart as she wept. Instinct got the better of him as he knelt down and rested a hand on her back. Her reactions… They reminded him of someone. He swallowed. Judging by her age… It was not illogical to assume a possibility that she was… He sighed. “There, there…” his voice was soft, “… Are you claiming that you are my daughter?”

☄️ Cyllene nodded. She could not fathom her own father not recognising her. Had he attempted to mess with the Lake Guardians once again? Her panic led to her gripping his arms tightly. “Father…” she mumbled. His eyes went wide. Another question came from him. A question about her whole parentage. Cyllene blinked at this one. “… My other parent is…” A familiar name left her. Cyrus was frozen by her words. His theory… It was correct. How could this be? The question was about to leave him before he finally motioned her in the apartment.

☄️ Cyllene was further shocked at the state of it. There was no trace of family home she had come to know. Nothing of the small projects she had worked on with her father or the bed for Weavile in the living room. It was dark and seemingly mostly unused. Slowly, it finally set in about what had occurred. She felt sick. All she wanted was her Rotom toy or her bed or for her father to sit her in his lap and explain a star map to her. Instead, she was stuck with an alternate reality version of her father. One who clearly did not recognise her. More tears escaped her eyes. This Cyrus seemed to attempt to comfort her again.

☄️ Forcing down her torment, she was faced with a situation. Yet, before she could be given a chance to explain, her father had out his phone and was making a phone call. His tone was reserved, but Cyllene recognised the voice on the other end of the call. A demand was made for them to meet him at once. Seemingly, they relented after a bit of back and forth. Cyrus informed her she would be back with her other parent soon enough. Yet, they needed to have a chat before he handed her back off. Cyllene felt bewildered. There was no time to object when he grasped her hand tugged her along to a certain building in Veilstone. There stood another, waiting with their arms crossed and clear frustration on their face. Though, this was changed when they saw Cyrus approach with Cyllene.

☄️ “Why did you fail to tell me of our child!?” Cyrus's voice was a rare kind of loud and aggressive. Cyllene was startled away from him due to it. Her other parent stood shocked, too. Their eyes went to Cyllene and back to Cyrus. A simple response of not knowing failed to appease the man. The two soon fell into an argument, making Cyllene curl into herself. Panic burned inside her and made her arms feel numb. All she could do was tap to two stones she found on the ground together. It only seemed to grow worse and worse until finally a voice cut through the fighting.

☄️ “Cyllene.” Her head whipped up as tears fell from her eyes. There, approaching from stairs leading up to the Galactic building was another Cyrus. His gaze was firmly on her. Her legs had never moved so quickly. This version of the Galactic Boss caught her and held her tightly to himself. Another person ran up the stair to them. You. Her eyes burned as you brought a hand gently to comb through her hair. The alternate pair of you both came to an abrupt silence.

☄️ “… What is this?” the Cyrus of this world asked. The Cyrus she knew shook his head. “… Pointless to discuss such things. The idea of parallel worlds existing is something that you are no doubt aware of,” was his reply, “It seems we are two versions of the same person who engaged with different choices. Intriguing.” He clutched Cyllene tighter to himself. The other Cyrus nodded. The other you stood shocked at how close you were to your Cyrus. “… I apologise. We will be correcting this error,” with those words, Cyllene was lifted into the air and carried away by her father to a nearby portal.

Somehow, she felt as if those two had been changed by the experience.

🐈‍⬛️Nanu❤️‍🩹

🌑 Ohi'a would admit what he did was dumb. And, without a doubt, would piss off his dad. The geezer probably would be ready to kill him and then himself if he learnt that he got pulled in an Ultra Wormhole. It really had not been his fault. A toddler almost pulled in, and he dumbly rushed over to push them out of the way. He, instead, was sucked in. Yet… Despite all the horror stories of fallers and Miss Anabel's own existence, he did not fell discombobulated nor without his memories. Looking around, in fact, he still just seemed to be in Alola. The same as ever. He shrugged it off and headed back towards the Po Town police station. He needed to discuss whatever happened with his dad even if it was going to be a pain in the ass. He could already feel the hardened glare of the Kahuna piercing his soul.

🌑 He found himself approaching the station, seeing a familiar man and girl outside the door. Both turned to glance at him strangely. Ohi'a cocked up a brow at them. Acerola approached him with a bright smile and asked if he was lost. He was bewildered. Lost? He lived here. His gaze drifted to his dad, who was trying to pretend that he was not there. “… Huh?” he finally spoke, “… It's me. Ohi'a. I live here.” Acerola's head tilted while Nanu's attention finally shifted onto him.

🌑 “… In Alola?” Nanu finally cut in, carefully treading over, “Where, boy? You aren't trying to join Team Skull, are you?” His hands were in his pockets. Those crimson eyes stared into his own matching ones as if attempting to intimidate him. Ohi'a's nose scrunched up. What? He was acting extremely suspicious towards him. Why? Acerola was even treating him like an anomaly, too. It stung more than he would like to admit. Was this some kind of punishment? It was not like his father at all. Nanu could be a bit of a hard ass, but nothing cruel. Something was wrong here.

🌑 “… No. I mean…” Ohi'a trailed off, pondering what to say. The idea of parallel realities was no unknown to him. That one trainer on their island challenge had told him about their travels in the Ultra Wormhole. An alternate reality, far into the future of a destroyed Hau'Oli city. He stiffened up. Bringing his hand to the back of his neck, he sighed. “… Look, I don't think you'll believe me, but I fell through an Ultra Wormhole,” he explained. Nanu tensed up visibly at his words. “Through some struck of luck, I still have my memories,” he met his gaze, “… No idea what's going on in this world, but in mine, you're my old man.”

🌑 Nanu registered his words in an instant. The suspicion towards him somehow seemed to both fall and increase. Shaking his head, a sigh left him. Acerola gasped at Ohi'a's words and looked between Nanu and him. The Kahuna motioned for him to follow him into the police station. He waved Acerola off, too. Both of them sat in the station for a moment in silence. Ohi'a took in that it seemed much more… different from his memories. A single couch for sleeping. Nothing really to survive on. Some take-out and instant ramen about. “… So, can I ask who your other parent is?” he finally broke the silence. Something told Ohi'a that he already had an idea. His reply of a certain name only got a nod. “Figured…” He sighed, “… Am I a happy family man in your world or something?”

🌑 “… Nope,” Ohi'a replied, watching a Meowth approach him and give his hand a sniff. He brought a hand to pet the pokemon. Its soft fur, a familiar comfort. Nanu observed the interaction. “You're exactly the same, but you're married,” he shrugged, “… I guess you get busy with us, though. Tapu Bulu seems quite happy you had a kid.” Nanu scoffed at that. “I need to get back, you know” he continued, “My parents… They'll end up worried. You seem to think I'm more trouble than I'm worth until something happens to me.”

🌑 Nanu glanced at him. “… Are they happy?” he asked seriously. Ohi'a thought on his family for a moment. It was difficult to tell with how tormented Nanu could be, but he knew his father simply enjoyed the peacefulness of being in a loving relationship. You adored Nanu, often being far too affectionate for either of their tastes, but the small smile on his father's lips. You were happy as can be. Despite everything, he felt his family life was healthy. His parents were in a loving relationship, and they both cared for him.

🌑 “… Pretty much,” he nodded, “… What happened here?” He glanced at the alternate version of his father. Nanu shook his head. Ohi'a felt curious. His father always seemed quite attached to his other parent, typically being quite open to whatever they wanted simply to appease them or make them happy. Granted, it was still in his usual lazy fashion, but it was much like a cat putting up with its owner annoying it out of love. “Are you not together?” Another head shake. Ohi'a felt his heart drop. It was already strange enough being in a world where he did not exist, but his parents not being together felt strangely more difficult.

🌑 Before the conversation could grow any deeper, the door to the station opened, revealing three people in strange suits. Ohi'a recognised them as the attire of the Ultra Recon Squad. Stepping in, one removed their helmet to meet the eyes of the other two. Another Nanu. It felt like something out of a bad movie. “… There you are,” he walked to Ohi'a, “… You're more trouble than you're worth, boy.” The boy rolled his eyes in return. The other person revealed themselves to be you as you rushed over to hug him. He groaned at the tightness. The third actually seemed to be one of the Ultra Recon members.

🌑 The other Nanu relaxed as the recon member explained that they had a way to safely return to their original world. Yet, he felt himself staring at the family for far too long. Everything he had rejected because he felt so unworthy stood right in front of him. His counterpart met his eye. “Thanks for watching over him,” he nodded, “I apologise if he caused any problems.” The Kahuna shook his head. As the four departed from the station, he sat alone for a moment in deep thought.

Maybe he should contact them. It probably was not too late.

[moomstersnuffer]

I have some crazy conspiracy theories:

I always get this really strange, really disappointed, really let down feeling(depression am i right)when I actually stop and think about the relationship dynamics in Moominvalley. I mean, there are so many people who wholeheartedly believe in and support Snufmin but does anyone realize that if they were made canon, it would likely be more unusual and out of the norm for Moominvalley than it would be for our world of reality?

Let's start with the og crew: Moominpapa(Moomintroll's father), the Joxter(Snufkin's father), and the Muddler(Sniff's father). They were a trio of good friends going on adventures and then you look at their children and see how they too are a trio of good friends(I can't assume for two of them though...)going on adventures. Generally, I feel like Moominpapa and Joxter are the ones talked about the most and that's certainly true of Moomintroll and Snufkin as well, although we do love our Muddler and Sniff.

Then you look at what happened after their adventure days were over. They all got married(well most of them anyways) and found girls to love and had children. That's the norm. That's what's expected. That's their childrens' fate.

In the eyes of the kids who watch the show, Moomintroll and Snorkmaiden are soulmates. They’re the perfect couple. They'll end up like Moominmama and Moominpapa. And hopefully, Sniff and Snufkin will find someone too. I mean, I don't how many of you have even heard of the Snufkin and Alicia ship. I don't like it but that would be the norm...I guess. Sorry I really don't like that ship :/

It's never even implied or mentioned ever but I just feel like the unmentioned norm would be expected from like, everyone.

However, I think there’s more hope for the future now since it's now implied that Sniff doesn't really feel romantic feelings for anyone. I think it's safe to even mention that Snorkmaiden isn't a moomin like Moomintroll's parents both are(I mean it's another difference between generations to pin my delusions to)And despite that weird ship with Alicia, I doubt there's anyone on Snufkin’s radar except Moomintroll.

That brings this whole spiel to an even sadder conspiracy: Snufkin is the only one of the two who harbors romantic feelings.

I can't name certain instances because I have short term memory loss but I think this a very plausible theory. There really isn't a romantic interest for Snufkin in the series unless you count when his own step sis tried to get with him in the anime(like wtf was that?) Anyways, Moomintroll, on the other hand, has Snorkmaiden. My thing is, he either loves Snufkin platonically or he realizes he feels something more but doesn't want to break the social norm and disappoint people.

it's gotta be one of those two and since i'm a shipper I gotta lean toward the latter.

(I actually tried writing a fanfic about this a few months ago but I dropped it temporarily. I think I'll pick it up soon because I did like it I just got insecure lol)

But really all i'm doing here is throwing words in your face because I rewatched some s2-s3 episodes and got mad all over again. So yeah.

That's all I have to say today. I honestly think I say more on this site than I do in real life which is really sad but that's life these days. Nobody around to talk to about this stuff except you guys.

Thanks for reading whoever ended up reading this! I'm sorry if I left you more confused than you were before.

'Night, tumblr

[demigodsanswer]

AU (either within an AU or canon) where Frederick is dating Kathy and then realizes marrying a woman who doesn't like his seven year old is maybe a bad idea.

Some modern royals backstory perhaps? also changed her name to Cynthia because I like that more lol

cw for death, loss of a parent, and cancer

~

People had started to believe that the current Swedish royal line was cursed. Frederick wasn't superstitious himself, but he was starting to believe them.

It started with his brother's family.

In one tragic day, in one swift and violent turn in the tides, his wife and daughters sank into the ocean. Rudolph quickly sank into his grief.

For the first time in twenty years, Fred found himself heir apparent. And when his brother's griefs weighed too heavy on him, and he found abdication was more beneficial for himself and his country, Fred became the one thing he never expected to be -- King.

"Do you know what this means?" His wife asked their daughter. She was only two, but already whip-smart, clever, and a trouble maker to boot.

"I'm going to be the queen," Annabeth guessed.

"That's right," Frederick told her, "but not for a long time, I promise."

His wife was next, though. The number of treatments available to her didn't matter. The cancer simply spread too quickly and too aggressively. She left them within the year of the diagnosis. Annabeth was four -- old enough to perceive a big change and the sharp pangs of grief, but not old enough to truly understand how final death was. It took almost a year before she stopped asking when her mother was coming back.

A widower himself now, Fred spent most of his time attached to his daughter, prioritizing her happiness, education, and safety above anything else.

Annabeth seemed capable of charming anyone with her sweet little face and wide eyes. Anyone, of course, except a step-mother.

Fred tried to find a new wife. As the spare himself, he understood the need for a monarchy to have options.

"I don't want to just marry someone so she can be some brood mare," Fred said to his sister. "And anyway, none of these women seem particularly keen on Annabeth."

"I saw Annabeth put lemon in the last one's tea to curdle the milk," his sister said casually.

"What are you saying?" Fred asked.

"It's not the women who don't like her. She doesn't like them."

The last time Fred dated, Annabeth was seven. He actually really cared for Cynthia. He met her in Boston on a family vacation with Annabeth. And Annabeth seemed to actually like her for once.

But there were problems. Annabeth was a good, sweet girl, but she clung to her father after her mother died, and Fred allowed it. He didn't want to be away from Annabeth any more than she did. When Annabeth sensed that Cynthia was taking away from her time with her dad, she acted out. Fits, tantrums, and cries pleading for her mother became routine, and Cynthia's patience ran thin.

"If this is going to work, Fred, then you need to discipline her. She can't get away with things like this," Cynthia protested.

"It's just been me and her since her mother died, she needs time," Fred argued back.

"I'm not saying don't comfort her, but you need to control her."

"I can either control this country or control Annabeth, I cannot possibly do both," Fred said.

Cynthia stood up. "If that's really your feeling, then I don't think we can continue seeing each other."

Maybe she was bluffing. Maybe it was a chance for him to prove he could be a disciplinary father. But really, did he love this woman enough to put her through the pressure of a very public royal life? Did he want her to be Annabeth's stepmother? Did he even want another wife?

"Well, if that's how you feel. I'll have Hugo arrange to take you to the airport," he said simply, before checking his watch. "Annabeth will be done with school for the day soon. You're welcome to stay and say goodbye if you'd like."

Cynthia hadn't stayed. Annabeth walked around all night with a triumphant smile on her face. Fred might have been the spare who was never meant to be king, but his little girl was born to be queen.

Annabeth fell asleep in his arms that night. She might have been getting bigger, but she still liked when he read to her. They sat in the old rocking chair in her room, and she clung onto a brown Beanie Baby owl she called "Hoot," while he read from the Norwegian translation of Return of the King. He'd read it to her in Swedish as a baby, and then in English as a toddler. His girl was bilingual now, and it was time to get her started on the other Scandinavian languages, before she learned the romance languages too.

"Sir," his valet said, popping his head in, "Cynthia's plane has departed."

"Thank you Anders," Fred said. "I think she'll be the last woman for a while."

Anders paused. "Sir, the line --"

"Will pass to Annabeth," Fred said.

"Of course, that's the expectation. But if something happens to her --"

Fred held up his hand. "If, god forbid, Annabeth dies before I do, I plan to go mad, become a tyrant, and then set myself on fire," he held up the book for emphasis, "Denathor-style."

"And the line of succession?"

"Will go to my sister and her son Magnus, I suppose," Fred said with less intensity.

"Right, well, let us hope for the long and happy life of our princess," Anders said.

"Yes, let's do that," Fred said, dismissing Anders. He'd put Annabeth in bed in a few minutes, but for now he'd just keep holding onto her. She wouldn't be little forever, after all.

~

Annabeth: I have never done anything wrong in my entire life

Fred: I know this, and I love you

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Request: Inigo Dragonov scenario where we (his darling) didn’t cave into remarrying him. (I guess this is like an alternative timeline from the original storyline). He was thinking about bankrupting our family, so aside from that, what if we also didn’t want to remarry him because we found a new lover (that even his private investigators didn’t know about). And to make it even more soap opera drama like, our new man is Inigo’s old university rival (who’s still also his company’s rival). I’m sorry…I just love these tropes/cliches. What makes it even ❤️provokingly❤️ worse is if his rival were just to see Inigo across the street one day on an outing with us and our twin babies…and just kiss the babes while pulling us into an embrace…all while keeping a long deadlock stare with Inigo. Like DUSKGSJOSLHWJJJWJ!!!!!!!!! Unleash Inigo’s full yandere potential after being forced to witness this!

Yandere! CEO! Arranged! Ex-husband x AFAB! Ex-wife! Reader

WHAT IF: You refused to marry him?

Ooh anon, you're the worst (lovingly). You really want Iñigo to suffer huh?

Once more, I'm delving into Iñigo's lore because fun fact, Rowan may be my first yandere OC, but Iñigo had a whole novel just exploring him and his actual partner, Ykaidi! (I unpublished it on Wattpad though, it's so cringe lol. Also, there's so much stuff I changed so technically, the original timeline IS an au in itself) So this will be a good creative exercise to explore his personality more.

He's one traumatized bitch.

No?

Did you really say no?

Iñigo scoffed before tilting his head to the side, a bit bewildered.

"This..."

Words died down in his throat as he saw your resolute face.

"A-are you sure you don't want to marry me? I told you that the children needs a father figure in their life."

He somehow got a bad feeling about this. And that proved right as you gave him a soft smirk.

"They do, actually. It's not you though."

Iñigo felt his blood run cold.

His ears started to ring from the shock he received.

"You..." You have another man? That was not... Him?

How could that possibly be?! He always made sure that his private investigators would know each and every single one of the people that you spoke to back in New Zealand.

He should rethink his choices right now.

"But, Elise and Elliot needs their biological father. I am their bio father!" Iñigo yelled, his jaw ticking. But you only rolled your eyes.

"Did you think I would take into account on going back to you?!" You screamed, marching up to him and pushing him back. Your heart squeezed in pain as it pumped to accomodate the anger rising inside of you. "You neglected me. Insulted me in ways I don't even hear from my parents!"

You stomped one step, as if crushing his heart in pieces.

"Why would I come back to you?" Your voice, crackled with the pent up anger, gave a raw, intense tone of rage that echoed your beating heart. "You must think I'm stupid if I'll run to you."

Iñigo's vision swam, breathing heavily as he felt small, pressured....

Intimidated.

He never took account of you moving on and hating him to the point of getting another man. But you did. You did what he thought was impossible.

"Sweetheart... Please..." His tone was getting desperate, clawing at the seams to make sure he won't burst from the emotions he's feeling.

Iñigo is an emotional man. Yes, he may seem cold hearted and reserved, but when it comes to you, it's different.

His hand trembled, wanting to grab your hand to rest upon his cheeks and place a shackle on it.

"I'm going." You whispered before walking out of him.

~~~Two weeks later~~~

It's been hell in Iñigo's company. He's working his employees like dogs to create the best fashion company out there.

Whatever that means.

But all he knows he needs to outrank the Smith's when it comes to the Fashion influence across the world.

He needs to outrank you.

He needs to be more popular.

More rich.

More influential.

He drank another coffee, letting the coffee dribble down his chin and onto the hardwood table.

"Indigo, I think you need to take a break." Oliver said, using the nickname he's been using since he was a child. Iñigo looked up and saw Oliver holding up a mirror, reflecting how bad Iñigo looked.

"Wow, way too drive the nail further. Fuckhead." Iñigo glared at Oliver before shaking his head and standing up. "Alright. I'll go for a walk, Livi."

Iñigo went to the bathroom, fixing his appearance, shaving a bit, and adding light makeup to his face, just to hide the circles on his eyes.

Damn, he even knew how to apply makeup just to impress you, the fashion icon you are.

His tongue stung, remembering when he called you frumpy.

He got down through the elevators and walked towards the park. His steps heavy and straightforward. He ignored the stares he got, some shocked, some flirty, but he didn't mind them.

Because once he looked up to cross the street, his eyes widened seeing you and...

"Steven..?"

Steven. He knows him so well.

He's an academic rival back then in highschool and college, and now a business rival too.

He also can't believe he's now a love rival also?

Iñigo always remained victorious between them, with Steven simmering in second place.

But Steven only laughs, rolls his eyes and moves on.

He hated that part of him.

But now, it seems that Steven is leading in one aspect.

And it's you.

Steven looked around, sightseeing before landing on Iñigo.

Both froze, unsure of what to do.

But this time, Steven smirked and pulled you close, kissing your temple lovingly then scooping Elise and Elliot into his arms, laughing as they giggled in Glee.

People awed at the sight, seeing this "father" play with his children and being openly affectionate with his "wife."

The perfect family.

Iñigo feels like he's looking into the spotlight, looking into a pedestal that looked too far from his reach.

He wanted to break the hands that affectionately caressed your hips, to tear the lips that kissed your temple, to break the ankles that dared walk up to you.

He felt something crack inside him.

Sure, he won't use violence.

On you.

But, the prospect of Steven dying in his arms, torturing him for hours sounds delightful.

He finally snapped.

He's not afraid of blood, nor guts nor any of that gorey stuff.

He got his yandere side from his biological father after all, not Allastor. It was never Allastor, after all, he's a really sweet man.

He could never spawn a devil in hiding.

And, as Iñigo walk away to buy the necessary items to torture Steven, he smirked.

"Business be damned. I'm taking what's mine."

[howtotrainabraincell]

Imagine: Revelations Ezio falling in love with a young scholar and apprentice of Leonardo Da Vinci - Part 1

She had moved from England to Florence be with her mother’s side of the family, seeing as the Italian city was more open to women pursuing her interests.

Before that she had been in France and there, she met Leonardo Da Vinci. She began working with him and they got along wonderfully, when Leo heard about her plans to move to Florence, he entrusted the care of several of his artworks to her so they could be transported back to his hometown. To his original studio where she’ll run it for him and take in fellow artists.

They write back and forth for several years before the events of Revelations and the young woman convinces Da Vinci to share his work with all those he can. By opening up studios in well to do cities besides Florence and Paris. Such as Constantinople and Rome.

Da Vinci is impressed by her commitment, so he agrees to it. She goes to Constantinople and one of her trusted fellow artists takes over the one in Florence.

When she arrives in Constantinople, she’s nervous because she does not speak the language, but excited to get started. She gets lost on her way to the studio and while she doesn’t mind bc the city is beautiful; she realizes that she needs help.

Before she can ask for help a certain well known and beloved Turkish assassin sees her and offers his help. You guessed it! Yusuf Tazim. He escorts her to the studio, and they chat about pretty much anything and everything bc she was far off, and they instantly get along.

A note to the lovely readers: She already knows about the assassin’s bc she’s seen devices that Leo was working on for Ezio. Not to mention that when she was younger her father spoke of a man who saved his life in Florence. Giovanni Auditore. As a rich English nobleman her father & Ezio’s father met, when he was attacked by Templars hoping to scare/threaten him into financially supporting them. It didn’t work and the two became good friends. Her father was even there when Giovanni married Maria. Ever since, her father has always spoken highly of the Auditore family, even years later after returning to England.

Also note: She is a late baby born to her parents in her father’s early 50’s & her mother’s early 40’s. She was born in 1490 making her 21 (almost 22 - she hasn’t had her birthday yet) and Ezio 53.

Ezio sees her for the first time at the docks when he arrives in the Turkish city. She’s standing beside Yusuf coaching him on his Italian bc this man told her about his “Ezio de lalala” joke and she’s terrified it’ll get him sliced and diced LOL. Ezio immediately wonders who she is, drawn to her wit and the fact that she tried to encourage Yusuf to be respectful during their first interaction, not to mention her reaction when Yusuf got nervous and winged it...which means he accidentally reverted back to "Ezio de lalala" lol.

The woman shook her head as she face palmed, before patting the man on the shoulder and backing away from him. "Requiescat In Pace Yusuf."

The Turkish assassin laughed nervously before his head swiveled to watch her back up from him. "(name) where are you going?"

She held her hands up "I'm not trying to see you die Mr. De Lalala!"

"I got nervous!"

"Well, you certainly have reason to be now look at his hand!"

Ezio froze as the pair turned their eyes to him, before realizing that his fingers were meeting his thumb in a gesture all too familiar to him. He slowly raised his hand and sighed taking a step forward, "Da Firenze."

"Ah. Apologies Mentor."

She smiled as Ezio chuckled. "See! Easy." then her smile dropped. "Now I'm going to run before he slices you."

Yusuf laughed as his friend retreated from himself and the Mentor, "(name) he took the joke!"

She called out over her shoulder, not stopping in pursuit of distancing herself from them. "And in another minute, he'll take your young life!"

Needless to say, Ezio is very amused by her humor and also how adorably she ran away. After speaking with Yusuf, he finds out that she'll be around often because she also helps the doctor for the assassin's - working on the side as his apprentice.

He won't deny that he also finds her very beautiful - even more so with the few flecks of paint he noticed on her hands (the man's fond of artists hello to his best friend? Also not following cannon that Leo passed away in 1519 @ 67, he's still alive). Knowing that he'll have another chance to see her again fills him with excitement and also nerves, as it's been a little bit since he's been around such an interesting and beautiful woman.

Ezio certainly looks forward to his next encounter with her....

[iceheap]

@panicataphmausinsanity okay so Zane HC's LETS GOOOOOOOO

Before we start trigger warning for like, child abuse and torture and shit. Seriously this gets dark. Zane redemption must come at a price >:D

So. Something interesting to me in regards to Zane is how in MCD, He's like, this evil, terrible human being, but in Mystreet, he's like, a semi functional human being who can be a NOT bad person and NOT do bad things. And so I got to thinking.

I don't think Zane was born a bad person.

Personally, I kind of hate the way Jess wrote Zane. Like, yes, evil for the sake of evil is great and all, but like. In season one and two, Zane was this overarching antagonist who was always one step ahead of the cast and plotting and having a good time being a paice of shit.

And then season 3 comes around and now he's a shadow knight, on the run, has PTSD...

Look, I'm not knocking the guy for having PTSD. I'm just saying that the way it's portrayed kind of makes him seem like a whimpery coward. AGAIN, NOT KNOCKING PTSD!!

I think the position that Zane found himself in season 3 was a PERFECT set up for a redemption arc and it makes me SO MAD that it didn't happen.

So I guess I have to do it myself apparently -_-

I've been thinking a lot about Zane. I don't want him to stop being evil. Not right away. So we keep what happened in the first two seasons the same. He's a cackling maniac that has killed a shit ton of people and is on his father's payroll.

And then he dies.

(skill issue lol)

Anyway, Zane is dead. But he's also Zane, so of course he weasels his way out of being dead. And then he gets tortured and is subjected to the same suffering he condemned so many others to yada yada yada PTSD bleh.

Everything seems to be the same so far.

But then he breaks out if the nether. Still, we're on track, right?

He gets captured, he gets expedited to Phoenix Drop, he gets interrogated, it's all the same.

But here we find a canon divergence. Instead of being absolute dumbasses, they don't bring him into the nether. Let's scrap that plot point entirely.

Instead, we're going to let Zane bake in prison for a while!

Here are the main issues that make Zane irredeemable.

1. He's killed like, a shit ton of people, for funsies ig

2. He killed Vylad.

3. He destroyed Aaron's village.

Let's keep those things in mind.

So he's in prison. While in prison, Garroth starts to visit him (along with Travis but shhhh we'll get to him another day) and just. You know. Be angry.

Garroth has seen Zane as a spoiled brat his entire life. He's always been their father's favorite. He's always had everything handed to him on a silver platter. He's always been willing to do whatever it takes for power. He's greedy. He's psychotic. Garroth hates him.

But Zane is Garroth's brother. And Garroth is the type of golden retriever, gold hearted, kind type of character to still love his brother even if he hates him.

That doesn't mean he goes in and is like, nice to him though. Nope. Garroth goes to visit him and nine times out of ten it devolves into a screaming match where Zane antagonizes him the entire time and Garroth yells at him for being a shitty human being.

And then one day Phoenix Drop is attacked and Zane escapes.

They track him down eventually. When they find him, they strike a deal with him. Due to Irene related shenanigans they need his expertise as a scholar of Irene to figure out some more stuff for Aphmau. In exchange, they'll protect him from the Shadow Lord (who he pissed off by stealing one of his soul fragments lol Zane behavior).

Eventually they're able to establish a rapore with Zane. Garroth still gets a migraine whenever they have a conversation. Vylad still refuses to speak to him (oh btw he's visiting from his nether revolution vacation just so u know) and Aphmau still wants to tear out his guts for killing the love of her life or whatever, but he becomes manageable. They can like, stand him. A little bit. Slightly.

And then Zianna gets kidnapped or whatever. So they go rescue her. But when they get back to Phoenix Drop they forget to mention the fact that Zane is like. There and in the wild and not currently killing entire villages worth of people.

So Zianna rolls up to Phoenix Drop and gets jumpscared by her youngest son and also, notably, Zane is NOT happy to see her. He shuts the front door in her face. It's hilarious even though Garroth doesn't think of it that way.

So, now we have our key players all in one place. Garroth, Vylad, Zane, and Zianna.

Let's say they have to all go find an artifact toghether or something and they need Zianna there because it's related to something she knows and they need Zane there because of Irene lore reasons. they go on this mission. One day, they sit and set up for the night, set up bedrolls, whatever. They're lounging around the fire and talking when Vylad eventually mentions his time as a shadow knight in the nether and something about torture.

Zane blinks, and, having not been included in the conversation initially, buts it to say,

"Oh, please. Don't tell me getting tortured by those amatures was DISTRESSING for you. I would have thought father's methods would have given you thicker skin."

The others bristle and start scolding him, of course, because Zane is like, the reason Vylad became a shadow knight in the first place. But Vylad himself, who is very observant and hard to antagonize, latches into something Zane said.

"Methods? What methods?" He says. He says it sharply, too.

Of course, Zane doesn't pick up on this. He just rolls his eyes.

"Don't tell me you forgot. Father had a whole floor dedicated to torture and loved collecting new methods from around the region. I think he even had a historian employed who would research for him..."

"What?" Garroth says, stunned out of his anger.

Zianna has gone silent. So has everyone else, and now they're watching with baited breaths.

"So what? What would that have to do with me?"

And for the first time that they've ever seen, Zane looks... Puzzled.

"What, did he go easy on you? Didn't you talk back to him all the time? Once, after just asking him a question, he had two of my nails pulled. Shadow Knight torture was child's play in comparison," he shrugs, then takes a bite out of his stale price of bread.

There's silence.

Zane looks back at all of them, confused and now kind of pissed off. He looks like he usually does when he feels like he's about to be scolded for saying something crass. Except, that's not what happens. Instead, Vylad looks him in the eye for the first time since Zane killed him, and with the most emotion they've ever heard from him, says,

"What?"

Zane hums.

"Come on. Don't play dumb. He hated you. Im sure he must have sent you to the "torture basement" at least once. You got on his nerves constantly,"

Garroth makes an aborted movement, like he's going to stand up and rush him, but Vylad stops him with a flick of his hand. And then Vylad starts doing what he does best. Interrogating him.

So remember that list, right? Let's reframe a few things.

Zane was not the favorite child. Garroth was.

Garte was a paice of shit. Garte hated Vylad. But he also hates Zane. Why wouldn't he? Vylad was his wife's affair child, sure, but Zane, Zane was Zianna's spitting image.

When Zane was little, he used to take snails and out them in the grass after it rained. He uses to clamor for his mother's pastries just like his brothers. He was a normal child, and he was NOT born a psychopath.

But Garte had a thought, one day.

Wouldn't it be funny... If he made his wife think he WAS one?

Wouldn't it be funny to punish her that way? Wouldn't it be funny to turn Zane into a terrible person, and have her think it was for no reason? Make her think that she birthed a psychopath? How much would it hurt her? How much would she weep?

Garte used to punish Zane for Vylad's joy. One of Vylad's laughs would equal one slap to the face. One side remark in defence of their mother would equal one hour locked in his father's study closet in his office.

Garte turns Zane against himself brothers. And the best part in his mind?

He makes Zane believe that they know about all of it.

He tells Zane that his mother knows about it. That his brothers don't care that he's beaten. That Vylad does things so he gets punished on purpose.

Zane grows up thinking that his brothers probably go through this too. He grows up thinking that his mother just doesn't love him. And so he doesn't say a thing.

Garte starts having him tortured instead of superficially physically abused? He says nothing.

Garte makes him become a priest of Okasis even though the consequence of failing the academy is death? He says nothing.

Garte would encourage Zane to blugeon animals to death and bring them to Zianna and laugh at her horrified face from afar. Garte encourages Zane to say psychotic things while they're eating dinner, and watches as his family becomes more and more convinced Zane is a monster.

Until Zane is one.

But this reframes a few things.

The people Zane killed? It was under orders. He eventually became his father's right hand man. Most of his overarching goals have been in service of his father.

For Aaron's village, we'll stick a pin in that one, but long story short, Aaron's village had been planning a coup that night under his wife's orders. Zane had them killed under his father's orders so they could eliminate them as political neighbors. He let Aaron live out of pity.

And Vylad.

Basically, remember when I said that Garte used to punish Zane according to Vylad's actions?

One day, Vylad gets into an explosive argument with Garte defending Zianna. And Garte, again, without the other's knowing, has Zane tortured. Except this time it's for a WEEK STRAIGHT.

So when Zane gets out. He's. Very unstable.

And then he comes across Vylad in a semi secluded area.

And Vylad is acting like he did nothing, and all he's ever done is make Zane suffer, and Zane hates him hates him HATES HIM--

And so he snaps. And he kills him.

Keep in mind, though, Zane thinks this is all normal. He doesn't realize that killing his own brother has traumatized him. He doesn't realize that he's a victim of abuse. He doesn't realize that what his dad did is not okay because he THINKS HIS FAMILY KNOWS WHAT HAPPENED, and if they didn't contradict his abuse, then this must be normal. He thinks that Vylad has probably been tortured too. He thinks Garroth is their father's favorite because in his mind he's determined that Garroth not receiving any attention from their father is a GOOD thing because ATTENTION EQUALS TORTURE to him.

And this reframes a few things. His constant bid for power? It's not greed, it's DESPERATION. Power makes him feel safe. Hurting others makes him feel powerful because that's how his father had power over him.

His highly volatile and violent personality? It's l he's ever known. Do you have ANY idea what torture could do to a child? He has severe PTSD. Like, severe and repressed and his outburst are more common when he's uncomfortable or anxious or experiencing any negative emotion, which is often.

Garte took Zane's empathy from him. Turned him against his family. Made him into a monster. With these types of characters, I imagine it would probably be very difficult for them to redevelop their emotions and empathy because if they do that, they would have to face their whole mountain of trauma and the guilt of all the lives they've ruined.

I think eventually, after a lot of work, Zane does eventually regain his empathy. It probably finally sinks in during a small gathering. His mother makes her famous cake. Zane has long gotten used to being excluded during these sorts of things, but then...

His mother slides a plate of cake right in front of him.

Strawberry.

His favorite.

And she smiles at him.

This is probably after they found out about Garte being a peice of shit. Maybe a few months.

All Zane has ever wanted is to be loved. Maybe he didn't know it, but when he takes a bite of his mother's strawberry cake for the first time in decades and the nostalgic taste registers in his brain, something snaps.

And he becomes human again.

And he realizes:

Oh.

I'm a person.

I'm a murderer.

I'm a monster.

LMAO WAS THIS COHERENT SORRY PANIC I TRIED MY BEST I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS ONE OSIBWIBDIBSIBU