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bunnys-kisses · 3 days ago

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｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა a butcher au - max verstappen ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

max could've been a lot of things. but he was very good at cutting meat. those curious blue eyes didn't flinch at the sight of guts and blood. he simply worked and he in turn lived a happy life. in a way it got certain frustrations out, that he was never a good driver. when he craved up meat for sale at the small shop he worked at, in the apron and heavy gloves, he liked that no one recognized him. the weight of expectations didn't fall to heavily, instead he got thanks yous and no one praying for his downfall. he did have favorite customers though. the old nonnas who came in who were very particular, but always left heavy handfuls of change in the glass tip jar. the love sick man trying to win of a new woman of the week with his attempt at fine dining. and you.

you had lived out in the small town near the italian and french border for a few months now. an aunt of yours had died almost a year ago and you get saddled with the small property she owned. you took it as a chance to go somewhere else, having lived in the bustling city in another part of the world. so, the small town life was nice. and every week you'd come in and see max. he was always happy to see you. he'd often say to you, "i think i have something better in the back." before he flashed you a smile and headed to find a better cut.

he liked you, there a fondness he carried for you. you were just very polite and sweet. your grasp on both italian and french was a little rusty, but max was helpful as he wrapped up your order and told you to have a nice day. over the months you became comfortably familiar.

while max was comfortable at a distance, he was surprised when he heard your voice from the front. he looked down at himself, elbow deep in an animal all morning... staining the front of the apron and the gloves he wore. there was even specs who knew what on his upper forearms. "shit." he sighed to himself. he knew that his job required getting a little dirty, but he didn't want the beautiful woman who came in every week to see him look like a serial killer. he quickly took off the apron and gloves (even attempting to pick the dried blood off his arms) before he went to see you. you were at the front with other groceries in hand. you were just in yesterday. he looked at you with a little confusion. and you simply smiled. you placed two sunflowers wrapped in last weeks newspaper on the counter near the cash register.

you couldn't look him in the eyes when you asked him, "i couldn't wait for you to make the first mood, max. but... would you like to have dinner with me?"

max picked up the flowers, they looked beautiful even in the somewhat bad lighting of the butcher shop. he looked to you, your smile had dropped and you looked nervous. while max was wrapped up in receiving flowers and your request, he realized he hadn't said anything. he put the flowers down and took you by the hands across the counter and said, "yes! of course!"

you ended up having dinner with max at your home a few nights later. you two had been texting over the course of those days. and while he found himself comfortable messaging you. being in your home felt nerve wracking, he hadn't been on a date since he left his home town after he turned eighteen. but, you looked beautiful in the kitchen. making sure that everything was perfect for dinner. occasionally his eyes would scan over your form as you worked in the kitchen. you seemed to natural there. the way you prepared the sausages in the pan (the ones he sold you days prior) made max feel more at ease. there was a joke there about you knowing how to prepare meats. while most of the time he simply ate vegetables when he got home, after being around cut up animals for hours on end made him want to eat a stalk of celery by the time he got home. but to see someone so beautiful work a kitchen marvelously and the end result being something so beautiful.

"i made these rolls earlier today." you said as you brought the bowl with some on there, "i'm not the best baker ever. i'm pretty sure i can't compete with the place a few doors down from you." you laughed as you turned back to around to grab the pot of stew that you finished.

max eyed you behind as you walked away and was already in love.

you returned with dinner in hand, oven mitts protecting your hands from the hot surface of the pot. it smelled good. it smelt like home. and it made max feel warm all over as if his body wasn't heated from the warm summer night. you smiled when you sat across from him then clinked your wine glass with his, "to the first date in a long time." and max took a sip, he got lost in your eyes for a moment. and there was little room for dessert when you pulled max into the bedroom. the bed frame creaked as he was almost pushed onto it. you stood in front of him and he wrapped his strong arms around you then kissed at your clothed middle.

the clothes came off and he saw you eye his chest for a moment. he almost wanted to recoil a little from the attention. he wasn't built like a statue. he was strong for years of lifting things around the shop and walking to and from home every morning. but before he could say anything or move, you ran your hands down his chest. feeling his soft skin under your palms then said, "holy shit, this is what's been hiding under those aprons you wear." he looked away for a moment felt heat in his cheeks before you pulled him by his chin into a heated kiss.

you got max onto your back and straddled his waist. you watched him swallow before you kissed him along the neck and collarbones. your rubbed yourself up against his abdomen and shuddered from the stimulation of your clit. max clutched onto the covers under him and you went in for another searing kiss. it was perfect, you were perfect. your movements were slow, feeling him up against you. it was teasing for both of you until you got yourself seated on his cock. which made him tense up and feel a flare of his across his body. your hands on his strong shoulders for leverage as you moved up and down. max shuddered and his swallowed hard, "shit. please." he said as you moved against him. you replied, "you feel so good. i'm surprised no one else has tried to pick you up in town." you giggled, the heat in your cheeks was heavy. he simply held onto your hips and started to work alongside you, letting the pleasure bubble up, "i get nonnas and their granddaughters visiting from overseas. usually they are too scared to talk to me. or i'm too scared to talk to them. they see the blood or the animal in the back and get scared." maybe it wasn't polite to talk about work while he was fucking you, but you didn't seem to complain. he found that you didn't flinch at how the sausages were made in the shop. he clutched further onto your soft hips. his hands were used daily for taking apart the meats that arrived. he was usually in the back carving like he was making a masterpiece. the anatomy of the beast burned into his head. but while he held you, his touch was full of tenderness.

he wasn't trying to carve himself into your skin, he wanted to make you feel good. he wanted to be good in your world, and as sweet moans left your lips he knew that he was doing just that. he looked up at you with those blue eyes, the pupils a little wider from the heat in his body. the euphoria that was a drum in his chest as he continued to meet your pace. he then added, "plus, now i have no reason to talk to them. not when i have you." you blushed a little bit, looking away for a moment as he did earlier before you leaned in and kissed him on the lips. your hands splayed across his chest as you worked along his cock. up and down as a fire burned in your belly.

you two kissed once more as you pace started to stagger. you felt the heat become fuel in your blood as you worked his cock. he felt like a dream, an utter euphoria that you couldn't put into words. you had been with others before. but in the low light of the home you now owned with a man you met by chance while living in this small town. there was a certain niceness to it. a comfort you longed for while stuck on packed buses or falling asleep during meetings on a year prior. in the warm heat of the summer, you felt good as you moved against him. so long tinder, so long bumble, you met the man of your dreams while he was covered in blood, whose hands worked diligently every day to deliver the finest cuts of meat. not only to you but to large portions of the town. maybe it was love right off the bat, regardless you felt a warmth in your chest for him.

you kissed once more as you both loss the rhythm, soon you finished with a moan against his lips and he followed soon after. he clutched onto your hips tightly as you continued to thrust on top of him. eventually the pleasure flooded your brain and you slowed down to a stop. the kiss was broken and you both panted heavily. max cupped your face for a moment ans said something you couldn't quite pick up, but you responded with, "right back at ya." between heavy pants. and max knew it was love.

you soon laid in bed with the butcher, curled up against him. both feeling the after shivers of climax. you felt comfortable in the crook of his shoulder and your face up against his softer chest. you could tell he was strong, but wasn't opposed to homemade cooking.

he lazily took your hand in his other one and kissed across the knuckle. he sighed against your fingers, rubbing them up against his cheek soon after, "if this is a ploy to get a discount

you looked at him and chuckled, "damn, my plan is ruined."

he chuckled, "i'll need a few more homemade meals before i can do that. don't want the little nonnas to think they can seduce me into better prices." then kissed your hands once more.

you sighed and pressed further into him, feeling a sense of comfort in his arms, "next time i'll bring more than flowers."

he simply laughed, but in the back of his mind he thought, don't bring me a ring. that's my job. and maybe it was a little bit too soon to jump to that next step. but, as he held you in his arms it felt like a perfect piece. he wouldn't mind giving you discounts, of course if you were married then it would be free. but as he kissed the top of your head and heard your breathing level out and eventually fall asleep, it felt nice. it felt like home.

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coldfanbou · 13 hours ago

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In Plain Sight

Here we go with Chaeryeong. She just can't help herself. Also, guest Yuna makes a small appearance at the end and is just as big a perv as Chaeryeong.

Length: 2k

Chaeryeong X Mreader

A little past noon, you took the girls out shopping, except for Chaeryeong, who had chosen to stay home instead. The shopping trip was for Yuna more than it was for Ryujin and Lia; while both women could do some shopping, Yuna was the one who loved it. She dragged you along to every store, looked through every rack of clothing, and tried on everything she liked. It was a tiring experience for you, but, at the very least, it was something you had to do only every few months, or Yuna would start to complain.

Once you were done with shopping, the drive home, and the girls chatting in the van's back seats over Yuna’s mountain of bags, it was all going smoothly until you hit a traffic jam. Yuna was the first to complain, stomping her feet against the floor. “Why aren’t we moving?!”

“We’re in traffic, Yuna!” You’d yell back at her, earning you a pout from the maknae,

“There was no need to yell,” she says quietly, making the others laugh.

At the dorms, Chaeryeong glances at the clock and lets out an exaggerated sigh. You and the others had been absent for what felt like an eternity. She whips out her phone and dials your number: “Manager! When are you getting back?” She playfully whines, her impatience laced with humor.

You laughed at her, “We hit some traffic, Chaeryeong.” You stare out the window, a line of cars piled ahead. “It’ll probably be another hour or so. We’re piled up behind a lot of cars, and we’re barely moving.” You hear Chaeryeong huff and hold back another laugh.

“Alright, but don't take forever, " she says before ending the call. Chaeryeong rises from her bed and heads to the living room. “Another hour to myself,” she groans, settling on the sofa. She scrolls through her phone, wondering what to do, when she thinks, “They won’t be back for an hour… maybe I should…” A naughty thought worms its way into Chaeryeong’s mind. She purses her lips and heads back to her room, searching the back of her bottom drawer and pulling out a ruby-red dildo. She pauses for a moment and places the dildo on the counter, stripping herself down before grabbing it again. Chaeryeong smirks as she hurries back to the living room.

Chaeryeong lays on the couch, searching for porn with one hand as she holds the dildo with the other, her tongue swirling around the head as she prepares. Once she finds a video she likes, Chaeryeong settles in and brings the dildo between her lips. She coos and shuts her eyes for a moment, letting the pleasure flow through her body before focusing intently on the video. The young woman runs the dildo between her legs, coating it in her nectar, and once she sees the woman in the video getting fucked she follows along, pushing the dildo deep into her cunt and filling the room with her moans. Chaeryeong makes the toy disappear inside her, ensuring every inch is in her before pulling out and ramming it back into herself. She follows the pace of the video, moving slowly when the actor does and fucking herself senseless when she sees him going wild. As time went on, Chaeryeong stopped focusing on the video, dropping her phone and focusing her energy on fucking herself.

Chaeryeong grabs at her breasts, pulling on her nipple as she moves the dildo in and out of her cunt. She feels her climax approaching and arches her back, moaning loudly. She speeds up, her face becoming flush and skin sweaty as she pushes closer to her orgasm. “Just a little more,” she moans, feeling a tightness in her core. “C’mon,” Chaeryeong whines as she pushes the dildo deeper inside. Her hand practically slapping against her pussy as she continues to fuck herself.

Just then, she hears the sound of the doorknob jiggling and grabs the throw blanket on the couch, covering her naked form. Chaeryeong scrambles to grab her phone, changing the screen from the porn she was watching to Instagram. “We’re back!” Yuna yells as she barrels through the door, heading to her room. You walk closely behind her, carrying a mountain of bags. Chaeryeong gulps as everyone moves through the dorm, barely paying her any attention.

Yuna swings back to the living room after you’ve placed her bags in her room and throws herself on top of Chaeryeong. Her weight forces Chaeryeong down and pushes the dildo deeper inside the young woman; Chaeryeong feels it rub against her cervix and bites her lip to keep from moaning. “Did you miss us, Chaerry?” Yuna asks, bouncing on Chaeryeong lap.

Chaeryeong nods, “Mhm,” she hums, responding the only way she could. Her body was tingling, and Yuna kept bouncing on her lap, making the dildo move inside her.

“I found so many pretty clothes today; you should have come with us.” Yuna cheers, grabbing Chaeryeong’s hands. The older of the two presses her elbows against her sides, keeping the blanket in place as Yuna chatters about what she bought. “You would’ve loved one of the dresses we saw. Wait here, I’m going to change into a few outfits and show you how I look.” Yuna said, getting off Chaeryeong’s lap and heading to her room. Overhearing the conversation, Ryujin and Lia quickly made their way into their rooms and shut the doors, refusing to be spectators for another one of Yuna’s fashion shows. In their rooms, they blasted music and locked their doors, refusing to become involved in any way.

You walk into the living room and notice Chaeryeong sitting on the couch, squirming under the blanket. You know Chaeryeong, you know what she likes. You approach the young woman and place your hand on her forehead. “You’re pretty hot, Chaeryeong. Are you sick?”

She shakes her head, “I’m fine, it’s…just a little stuffy in here.”

You chuckle and press down on her lap, forcing the dildo to move inside her. Chaeryeong squirms under your touch. You get by her ear and whisper, “You were masturbating again, weren’t you?” You watch a crimson blush appear on her face. You lean down and kiss her neck, “Go on already, Chaeryeong.”

“Manager, please fuck me,” The young woman whispers, desperate for your touch now that you are offering.

You pull off the blanket covering Chaeryeong’s body and glance at her, noting the red dildo in her pussy. You slide your hand down her slick body until you reach her cunt; you grab the base of the dildo and fuck her with it. Chaeryeong bites her lip, trying to keep her voice down as you attack her body.

Nipping at her neck and teasing her with a slow fucking, Chaeryeong begins to whimper, wanting more from you. She reaches down to your pants, rubbing your growing bulge and begging for you. You figure that Chaeryeong had probably been denied the chance to cum and speed up your thrusts, moving the dildo in and out of her wet cunt like a machine.

Chaeryeong’s eyes shoot open, and she opens her mouth, gasping as the tension she’s feeling gets broken down, and she cums on the couch. You continue to pump in and out of the young woman, her voice eventually breaking through, “Oh God,” She groans, feeling her muscles tighten as her orgasm rocks her. You drive the dildo inside her one final time before slowly pulling it out and tossing it onto the couch.

You move Chaeryeong into a sitting position and take a seat beside her, pulling out your cock. Chaeryeong weakly reaches over, grabbing your shaft and sliding her hand along it. “There’s a better way to do this, Chaeryeong,” you whisper into her ear before grabbing her waist and placing her on your lap, your cock between her legs. You press her legs together and move Chaeryeong along your cock, as if she was a toy. The tired woman groans as she feels your warm cock between her lips.

“I want it inside, put it inside,” she whines.

You line yourself up with Chaeryeong’s entrance and hold her in place. She tries to lower herself, but you keep her from moving. “Not yet, Chaeryeong.”

“Manager, please,” she whines, “Please fuck me; I want your cock inside me,” she begs. You feel a sense of satisfaction hearing Chaeryeong beg. You drop her onto your cock and thrust up, burying yourself inside the young woman’s tight cunt.

She thanks you repeatedly as you thrust into her. Chaeryeong bounces on your cock after you let go of her waist, riding you with enjoyment as your cock fills her up. You move your hands up to her breasts, squeezing the modest mounds and pinching her nipples, knowing that she loves it. Chaeryeong moans getting louder only prove your thoughts. You let Chaeryeong ride you for a couple of minutes, enjoying the sight of the young woman fucking herself on your cock.

Soon enough, though, you wanted to ravage her. You make her kneel on the couch and take her from behind, spanking her ass as you drive your cock deep into her. Chaeryeong hummed, loving every hit. Her moans slowly grow louder, and your bodies continue to clap against each other.

As you’re fucking Chaeryeong, Yuna comes back into the living room, her initial shock replaced by arousal. Her eyes are glued to the action as she watches Chaeryeong moan and enjoy being fucked. She slips her hand down under her shorts, touching herself while you pound away at Chaeryeong’s body.

Chaeryeong’s walls begin to tighten around you. “I’m cumming,” she groans. Chaeryeong collapses onto the couch, her back arched and allowing you to go deeper into her cunt. You wrap Chaeryeong’s hair around your hand and pull her head back as you thrust. Chaeryeong stares right at Yuna, gasping. Being watched by Yuna makes her cum instantly; her body shakes as she cums on your cock. You pull Chaeryeong’s body against yours, letting Yuna take in the sight of her member’s naked body. You force Chaeryeong to look at Yuna and watch the maknae finger herself.

You move your other hand to her clit and toy with it as you continue to ravage her. The pleasure is overwhelming, and Chaeryeong’s body shudders against yours. Her walls clamp down around your cock as she cums a third time. Her juices squirt out onto the couch and floor, and you both watch as Yuna’s knees grow weak and her shorts become darker as she cums herself. You smile and turn Chaeryeong’s head, kissing her before picking her up and taking her to her room.

Yuna kneels in the living room, recovering from her orgasm, as she spots Chaeryeong’s dildo. She crawls over to it, taking it in her hands and stroking it. Yuna hears the muffled sounds of Chaeryeong’s moans coming from her room and walks over to the door, pressing her ear against the door and listening. The temptation is too great for the young woman, and she drops her shorts and panties to her knees, pushing Chaeryeong’s dildo inside her and fucking herself as she listens to your session with the older woman. Yuna initially imagines herself in Chaeryeong’s position, but then her mind wanders to watching the action instead. The idea turns her on more than being fucked herself, and Yuna cums as she imagines the sight of Chaeryeong’s naked form cumming in front of her. Yuna presses herself against the door for support as she drives the dildo deeper into her, her thoughts filled with Chaeryeong’s body being taken by you. Yuna drives herself to an explosive orgasm, cumming just as Chaeryeong cries out from her climax.

You knew Yuna was outside and considered inviting her in, deciding against it. You wanted to see Yuna act on her desires and come in herself. So, for now, you enjoyed your time with Chaeryeong, fucking the young woman as you liked and taking her in any position you desired.

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #itzy smut #chaeryeong smut #yuna smut

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xinganhao · 23 hours ago

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🎸 vernon dates rockstar!reader. (3)

vernon x rockstar!reader who's a foreigner in an international rock band (3) a.k.a the one where you go public ➤ see also: series masterlist

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: international rockstar!reader, f!reader, long distance relationship, established relationship, pet names, fluff, cussing, best read in order + headcanons under the cut.

🔬 wikihow vernhow: how to go public with your rockstar girlfriend .ᐟ

Authored by Chwe, Vernon Last updated: November 10, 2024 ✅ Fact Checked

1. Assure your girlfriend that the world is not ending when she accidentally posts you to her main Instagram. Your girlfriend will wake up in a state of panic after putting you on her main Instagram story on accident. The first order of business will be to put her at ease. Call her the moment she messages you, just so a friendly face is the first thing she sees in light of everything.

Once her initial panic has subsided, try to distract her. Focus on making her smile or laugh.

Optionally, get some of her favorite food delivered to her apartment. She'll likely not be able to eat because of how nervous she is.

Constant reassurance is key. Make it clear that mistakes happen and that you're not mad at her. You could never be mad at her, to be honest.

2. Talk with everybody relevant to the situation, i.e. your company and your bandmates. There will be a lot of meetings with managers, then company executives. There will also be the matter of breaking it to your twelve bandmates-slash-brother-figures, most of whom will be pissed to be left in the dark. Some of them will insist they knew all along. (Highly unlikely.) Overall, you will have a lot of explaining to do.

Tell them the truth. There's no use in hiding. Talk about how it's been over a year since this whole thing started; why this is the reason why you make frequent trips abroad.

Grin and bear it. These people will be everything from shocked, to petulant, to overly excited. Prepare for an emotional whirlwind.

Stand your ground. The company will give you a lot of shit about it. There will be endless discussions about group image, about risks and consequences. But you know what you want. You want her. That's what you should tell your members, your leader, your manager, your CEO. Do not falter. Do not let your voice crack. Be honest and hold out.

3. Do not confirm or deny rumors about your relationship. No matter how excited you are to finally see your names linked on headlines, do not give the gossip mills the satisfaction. Both of you deserve to break the news on your own terms.

If you really must, screenshot the news articles and keep them for your own personal amusement. The two of you can laugh about it someday. (Hopefully.)

4. Make sure you understand what 'going public' entails for the two of you. A secret, long-distance relationship is one thing. A public, high-profile relationship is an entirely different monster. Take a flight to her city. Be extra discreet about it. Meet up, spend the weekend. Talk. Talk until your voices are hoarse. Talk about your concerns; talk about what you're excited to have. Make a SWOT analysis. Kiss until you both can't think of anything else. Be abundantly clear what is on the other side if you decide to take that leap.

Ask her a dozen times if she's okay, if she's sure. Up until the very last minute. People can change their mind; she wouldn't be blamed if she does.

Make sure you're sure. Know how much is riding on this, on you.

Think of how nice it would be to hold her hand out on the street. To get to call her yours out loud. To acknowledge her in your dedications, to not have to hide the fact that she's the person you're jet-setting to see. Think of all that, keep it in mind. Take nothing for granted.

5. Go public. The company will make a statement. You will have to say something on WeVerse. She'll take to other social media platforms. Tune out the reports and ignore the hashtags. A temporary social media cleanse might be beneficial, even. For the most part— take comfort in the knowledge that it's out. Everybody now knows that you, Chwe Hansol, have a girlfriend. Someone you want so bad that you'll go back on all the things you believe. Everybody knows her now, so there's only really one thing left to do.

Hope for the best.

#vernon x reader #hansol x reader #vernon smau #hansol smau #vernon imagines #hansol imagines #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #svt smau #seventeen smau #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #── ᵎᵎ ✦ mine #[ there's a lot of stuff i really fw heavy in this chapter ]#[ but YEAH MY BOYFRIEND'S PRETTY COOL BUT HE'S NOT AS COOL AS MEEEE ]#[ ugh. love this verse ]#[ u guys can pry vernon x rockstar from my cold hands ]#[ last two chapters will be heavier so the hcs on this one are just chill ]#[ john mayer reference bc im going thru it ]

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beloveds-embrace · 16 hours ago

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I’m not sure if you’re taking anymore requests but can you do poly141 who finds a small fairy reader? Mystical reader so little she fits in their hands?

Tiny baby reader… yes. Fair warning i wrote this while sleepy and tired and i completely forgot to add in when reader learns their name 😭 sorry for any more mistakes!

The forest was unusually quiet, blanketed in mist that made every breath feel cool and crisp. It was the kind of morning that seemed unremarkable, easy to forget. They walked carefully along the narrow path, hunting gear packed away in favor of simple jackets and quiet conversation. Retirement had given them, once a formidable task force, the luxury of slow days, but old habits died hard; their senses remained keen, always searching for any change in the air.

And that’s when they saw it- a flicker of light, faint and trembling, deep within a thicket. It could have been a trick of the morning sun, but they hadn’t survived as long as they have by chalking up everything strange, unusual think to happenstance.

“Careful.” John murmured, voice low and commanding. They nodded, pushing through the brush with quiet purpose and carefulness, until the glimmer came into focus.

There, tangled in a web of thin brambles, was something neither war nor time had ever prepared them for- a tiny, shimmering, actually-real fairy, no larger than the palm of a hand. Your wings, gossamer-thin and glowing with iridescent light, fluttered weakly as you tried to free you. You turned your head, eyes wide and filled with a mix of fear and exhaustion, and they all felt their breath catch.

Soap was the first to recover. “Bloody hell,” he whispered, his voice tinged with awe. He took a cautious step forward, hands up as if approaching a skittish animal. He couldn’t believe his eyes, but you are real. You are actually real. “Hey now, it’s okay. We’re not gonna hurt ya.”

The fairy- you -watched him warily, but there was a flicker of hope in your gaze. Gaz crouched next to Johnny, brows furrowed. “We need to get her out of there,” he said, his voice gentle. “Quickly.”

Johnny nodded, already reaching into his pack for a small knife. “Don’t move, all right, wee one? We’ll get you free.” He kept his movements slow, mindful of how fragile you seemed. With careful precision, he began cutting away the brambles, each snip bringing a little more freedom and a little more light. Price and Ghost kept watch over them, cautious still but not really that worried considering your size.

When you were finally free, you collapsed, too weak to stay upright. Gaz caught you, cradling you in his hands as if you were made of glass. “You’re safe now.” he murmured, his eyes soft. He could feel the faint warmth of your glow against his skin, like holding a tiny ember. More proof that you are real, even if it seemed so impossible.

Your wings twitched, and with a shaky breath, you looked up at them. “Thank…you,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a sweet chime in the wind.

“You are talking,” Soap breathed, a childlike wonder lighting up his face. “You talk.” It makes you giggle just a little, if you are honest with yourself. Your wings attempt to flutter behind you, but they are not Quite Right. You shift on your feet, visibly unsure now.

John stepped closer, his gaze warm but measured, and bent down so his face was at the same level as your body. “Easy there. You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?” His thumb, calloused from years of wielding weapons, gently brushed a stray leaf from your hair. He had to be extra careful, extra slow so as to not alarm you, and then holds his hand out for you to step into. “Your wings aren’t moving right, are they? We can help you.”

You shake your head slowly to his first question, looking away from his eyes. You’d never really approached humans before… always too big and scary, but there four were nice, at the very least. You and your unique magic couldn’t sense anything particularly bad from them, so that’s why you hadn’t immediately tried to fly far, far away from them.

You lean into John’s touch, sitting down and holding onto his thumbs for stability. You do know out of all of them, you still haven’t heard the masked one speak, just felt him bore his gaze at you, but you don’t care. “Where… are we going?” You ask instead.

“Near our cottage,” Price said, voice low and soothing. “Not far. We can bring you there, get you warm and fed, and you can let your wings rest there.”

You nodded slowly, exhaustion overcoming you. John held you close while they comtinued walking back. As you rested, your glow dimmed to a soft warmth that seeped into his palms and made them glow, a quiet reminder of your presence. The journey back was filled with silent glances- each man marveling at the fact that something so otherworldly, so impossibly delicate, had chosen to trust them.

When they arrived at the cottage, Soap carefully laid out a small, soft cloth on the table, creating a makeshift bed for you to rest one while Kyle thought you’d enjoy having a different option, so he placed a leafy pot nearby for yoh. Ghost silently set a thimble of water nearby while John stirred a pot on the stove, filling the room with a comforting aroma. You drank slowly, savoring every drop and feeling strength return to your body, to your wings.

“Better?” Ghost asked you at last, voice low, his eyes never leaving you. You nodded, a grateful smile breaking across your face despite the hints of fear caused by his mask. You didn’t see it, but there was a collective untensing of shoulders, worry lessening.

Over the next few hours, you spoke in halting words, telling them of the storm that had torn through the woods and separated you from your kin. They listened with full attention, not interrupting you. Kyle even offered you a finger to lean on when you shivered a little, reminded of the pain while you recounted your tale. But after that, you continue your rest, now the one asking them questions and learning who they are.

By evening, you were still nestled in the soft, makeshift bed near the fire, your wings catching the flickering light. As you drifted into a peaceful sleep, your light grew stronger- very content in your warm spot, and feeling safe and secure from wild animals and the weather outside. Occasionally, you feel different hands and fingers brush across your head, and each time it makes you let out a happy squeak, uncaring for the conversations happening in the background.

You wonder if they’d let you stay with them…

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britcision · 3 days ago

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I do also agree with OP, although I am gonna throw in a little reframing

TTRPGs and RPGs in general are games; they work based on chance and mechanics which tend not to change based on what would be narratively convenient, because the game doesn’t know what would be narratively convenient

(Notable exception: Abnimals, Travis McElroy’s game which explicitly includes a pool of My Time To Shine dice, which players can add to rolls they think are narratively important.

The dice still don’t care and will still dish you up all failures, but you do get to juice to improve your odds)

And what this means from a narrative perspective is that all the players and the GM need to be ready for big moments to go wrong. For the vital roll to fail, for the wrong character to get the last hit on a BBEG, for a dramatic and impassioned speech to fall flat

And that’s especially a challenge in a short campaign or series of oneshots, where you can’t necessarily just extend and expand the story until the Grand Finale is actually just a Big Character Moment

But it is still a big character moment

As the McElroy’s say… a failure is more interesting than a success

A failure adds free depth, free angst if you’re lucky!

Because… is anyone actually upset and unsatisfied if the story goes too well? If you succeed in a place where a failure might have been more exciting and dramatic?

The key is the kind of story the players (especially western players) are expecting to tell, and will find satisfying… because again, these are games

We go into them expecting or at least intending to win

This means various things for different games, you don’t play Call of Cthulhu for a happy feel good ending where everyone rolls off into the sunset, but you still want to win

It’s a lot more likely for people to feel it was a narratively satisfying story once they’ve gotten the end they wanted, even if some areas fell flat

And trust me, it’s something my players very much also struggle with; it feels bad when we fail something we wanted to succeed on. It feels worse if we built it up to be a big narrative moment… and it doesn’t work

But that is still a big narrative moment

If you’re going to play a game, where chance and mechanics decide the fate of all your dramatic moments, you need to be prepared to tell at least two stories:

- One where it all goes well

- One where it fails

(Maybe one more for a natural 20 equivalent and the stars quake at your passing)

It is hard to lean into failure, but when we do it… what would have been an unsatisfying ending is now just another twist. Free depth and character development, something to wallow in

And we know that those types of stories, even ones where everything goes wrong and the heroes lose, can be so very satisfying

Just look at the prevalence of whump and hurt-no-comfort on AO3

It’s normal and expected to feel bad and dissatisfied when the story doesn’t go the way you wanted it to, but it is your choice to leave that story as something unsatisfying and feeling bad about it

Every unexpected failure is another microwave to toss your blorbo in

Every moment that falls even a little flat is an opportunity for a genre-savvy quip, for a “well that just happened”, for someone to fall to their knees and scream and re-amp the tension

The key is in the player’s flexibility, not the game’s

Even if you are doing a short campaign… you can imply the rest. Let the story not be over, even if your time playing it is.

Let the beaten heroes be ground underfoot, crawl away from the dungeon, have to work and suffer but grit their teeth and know… so long as they’re alive, they can try again

They can have their revenge

(And then you can run the campaign again later, maybe with the same characters a level or two higher than you started last time, and thrive on the new dark and bitter story)

Or let your past characters be an inspiration, either for friends and loved ones who come to avenge them, or to the new heroes who heard their story and heard they failed, but that’s no reason not to try

Prev is also so right about a lot of modern dnd basically expecting the DM to tell a mildly interactive story live to passive players; it’s definitely one a lot of my players came in with, and it’s part of the problem

To tell a narratively satisfying story, you cannot just passively go along and expect the dice rolls to conform to your narrative

You need to actively engage, embrace the rolls as crossroads in the path of destiny, and be prepared to build the narrative no matter which path you take

You don’t go in expecting the right results at the right time to make a satisfying story; you go in knowing where the key moments will be, and what will happen if you succeed or fail

I have told my players several times, and I’ll tell y’all until I die:

I as the DM am not telling the story

I the DM have made the world, the NPCs, the background and setting of events

You the players are telling the stories of your characters, in that setting

There is an overarching plot that the party as a whole will also be telling the story of together… but not only are the players the ones who pick the theme music, you’re the ones who chose the main characters

There’s a reason a prefab campaign will be different for every group that plays it, even with the same GM

Even if you have no idea what’s coming next in the main storyline, you need to know what is coming next for your character

How you want them to grow, what you want them to learn - and then any unfortunate rolls aren’t a let down or a problem, it’s an opportunity.

Sakura has to learn something important about herself and others before she can ever collect a card - which means something usually goes wrong

She tries and fails, and then looks at that failure and learns from it and grows as a person, and that’s what makes the narrative satisfying

Sticking your feet in and sulking if the game mechanics don’t follow the narrative you want will make an unsatisfying story no matter what game you play

Gleefully and enthusiastically stuffing your blorbo into the blender of fate, hitting Purée, and turning every stumble off the narrative path into its own adventure will give you a much deeper, more compelling, more complete story than you might have expected…

But that’s the fun part

The truest mechanism of an RPG or TTRPG has nothing to do what is written into the rules of the game

It’s your own skill at improv, and if you’ve ever been even remotely stage shy, avoided drama class, or thought improv was hard, let me reassure you:

Improv comedy is not the only improv. You don’t have to be funny

And it’s a lot easier than you might think

So long as you know your character, actually really know them beyond the backstory you created… so long as you take the time to think “well what do they do when things go wrong? What would they give to get what they want? What would it take to force them to do the things they’d never do?”

You can bullshit through basically any situation

Because there’s no rule against playing ahead in your mind

Daydream your character into any situation you think might come up, write the fanfiction version of the perfect narrative in your head, and then do the tragic version. Do the slapstick version. The gritty noire version

Because the greatest secret of improv and playing your own character is that you will never be wrong

Only you define success or failure

So long as you know and understand your characters and can be flexible with the mechanics and the story, you can always build a satisfying narrative

This is a lot more work than just being reactive and expecting the GM to tell a story for you, and just rolling dice and “hit big monster” when prompted

That’s what makes the story actually satisfying though; taking ownership of it yourself

The game belongs to the designers

The story belongs to the players, GM and PC alike

There's this idea floating around the general TTRPG space that's kind of hard to put one's finger on which I think is best articulated as "the purpose of an RPG is to produce a conventionally shaped satisfying narrative," and in this context I mean RPG as not just the game as it exists in the book but the act of play itself.

And this isn't exactly a new thing: since time immemorial people have tried to force TTRPGs to produce traditional narratives for them, often to be disappointed. I also feel this was behind a lot of the discussion that emerged from the Forge and that informed the first "narrativist" RPGs (I'm only using the word here as a shorthand: I don't think the GNS taxonomy is very useful as more than a shibboleth): that at least for some TTRPGs the creation of a story was the primary goal (heck, some of them even called themselves Storytelling games), but since those games when played as written actually ended up resisting narrative convention they were on some level dysfunctional for that purpose.

There's some truth to this but also a lot of nuance: when you get down to the roots of the hobby, the purpose of a game of D&D wasn't the production of a narrative. It was to imagine a guy and put that guy in situations, as primarily a game that challenged the player. The production of a narrative was secondary and entirely emergent.

But in the eighties you basically get the first generation of players without the background from wargames, whose impressions of RPGs aren't colored by the assumption that "it's kind of like a wargame but you only control one guy." And you start getting lots of RPGs, some of which specifically try to model specific types of stories. But because the medium is still new the tools used to achieve those stories are sometimes inelegant (even though people see the potential for telling lots of stories using the medium, they are still largely letting their designs be informed by the "wargame where you only control one guy" types of game) and players and designers alike start to realize that these systems need a bit of help to nudge the games in the direction of a satisfying narrative. Games start having lots of advice not only from the point of view of the administrative point of view of refereeing a game, but also from the point of view of treating the GM as a storyteller whose purpose is to sometimes give the rules a bit of a nudge to make the story go a certain way. What you ultimately get is Vampire: the Masquerade, which while a paradigm shift for its time is still ultimately a D&D ass game that wants to be used for the sake of telling a conventional narrative, so you get a lot of explicit advice to ignore the systems when they don't produce a satisfying story.

Anyway, the point is that in some games the production of a satisfying narrative isn't a primary design goal even when the game itself tries to portray itself as such.

But what you also get is this idea that since the production of a satisfying narrative is seen as the goal of these games (even though it isn't necessarily so), if a game (as in the act of play) doesn't produce a satisfying narrative, then the game itself must be somehow dysfunctional.

A lot of people are willing to blame this on players: the GM isn't doing enough work, a good GM can tell a good story with any system, your players aren't engaging with the game properly, your players are bad if they don't see the point in telling a greater story. When the real culprit might actually be the game system itself, or rather a misalignment between the group's desired fiction and the type of fiction that the game produces. And when players end up misidentifying what is actually an issue their group has with the system as a player issue, you end up with unhappy players fighting against the type of narrative the game itself wants to tell.

I don't think an RPG is dysfunctional even if it doesn't produce a conventionally shaped, satisfying narrative, because while I do think the act of play inevitably ends up creating an emergent narrative, that emergent narrative conforming to conventions of storytelling isn't always the primary goal of play. Conversely, a game whose systems have been built to facilitate the production of a narrative that conforms to conventions of storytelling or emulates some genre well is also hella good. But regardless, there's a lot to be said for playing games the way the games themselves present themselves as.

Your traditional challenge-based dungeon game might not produce a conventionally satisfying narrative and that's okay and it's not your or any of your players' fault. The production of a conventionally satisfying narrative as an emergent function of play was never a design goal when that challenge-based dungeon game was being made.

#gaming #ttrpgs #roleplaying games #the important word there really is the roleplay #you gotta Play the Role - and rolls #that means getting into the nitty gritty and pulling it all apart and smashing the barbies together #rpgs are an active task #passive play makes a passive story #own. your. shit.#it’s so much more fun #also please do actively conspire against your gm with your fellow players #it is good for their enrichment #and means they’re not the only ones doing any work between sessions #gms wanna have fun too that means making sure it’s not a chore #show your interest and enthusiasm and the narrative will write itself

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rensylph · 10 hours ago

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𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐒/𝐎

<< yandere genshin men with pregnant S/o >>

Characters : ayato, diluc, kaeya, alhaitham, neuvillete, wriostheley, zhongli , tartaglia

After some inconvenience you end up pregnant with your first child in the earliest part of your marriage, and this is their reaction

⚠️ Warning : baby trapping, non con intimacy, and other disturbing content ⚠️

( Based on the last poll I made, as promised this yandere genshin men Headcanon of pregnant S/o )

<< English is not my first language >>

Ayato

< How many kids he wants : 3 - 6 >

Oh what a joyous occasion, when you tell him you were expecting a child, he pauses and smiles saying what a miracle he was already expecting this would happen. Ayaka is also happy with this news she would visit you and press her ear to your baby bump and talk to the baby or basically rub your stomach.

Having a child with you is the only way you are tied to him forever, by having a child you finally have something to stay with him as well as having the next head of the clan, making sure his clans future is secured. He babyfied the entire house for you as well as babying you, saying these emotions are just your hormones and saying the baby is a blessing

He will not allow you to leave your bed, before you are pregnant you're still allowed to walk around the estate but now you're not allowed or step outside your bed. You were put under strict bed rest and if you need to get around you have him, his sister or thoma to help you as well having the shuutmasuban monitoring you 24/7

Diluc

< how many kids he wants : 2 - 4 >

When you tell him about this news he runs towards you carefully of course not wanting to hurt the baby, and hugs you tightly and kisses your forehead saying you both will be good parents and a thank you for giving him the best present he ever asked for. The entire staff was soon aware of this news and started the preparation for a new born. Adeline will monitor you attending your every need when diluc is busy.

The nursery is all set up, and everything is set. After Kaeya's departure from the mansion as well as his father dying, the mansion has been quite lonely before your arrival, the mansion has started to have more light and after your pregnancy announcement it grows more. It melts his heart knowing he will not be alone anymore. Your babies will be spoiled a lot by him.

You are not allowed to walk around without him or Adeline supervision or not you're not allowed to walk around because he will carry you everywhere thinking it will cause harm to the baby. He will help you with your daily routine and will prevent you from reading your favorite novels cause stress is bad for the baby.

Kaeya

< How many kids he wants : 1 - 2 >

To be honest, he never expected to be a father. He always thought he would be a bad father. But after you tell him you're pregnant he will embrace you and say thank you and you both will get through this together. This is unexpected for him but he was happy having a child

He was anxious and nervous at first, but he handled it like a pro. Soon he started to enjoy the process when days got rough he would put his head on your bump and talk to the baby as well trying to feel it kicking. These small moments that lead him to start enjoying fatherhood.

After the baby was born he started to want more kids because, he really loves this bundle of joy and you know what can make him more happy more bundles of joy he will try to convince you to have another kid. And on the bright side your relationship is more healthier as well giving the outside a perfect image of your relationship.

Alhaitham

< How many kids he wants 2 - 4 >

He came prepared for your pregnancy, he read tons of books about babies as well about parenting he is prepared for this, he would control every aspect of your life food, bed time and other things

He will monitor you every day, he will free his schedule to make sure you will attend as well following the schedule he gives you during pregnancy. He will be there with your every step buying maternal clothes as well as other baby stuff. He has a very good job and is large payment. has a large savings for this day for both of you and the kids to live a comfortable

He wants to have two kids but he does have a feeling of wanting more but it depends on you if you want to have more. Your body is your choice, you're the one that had to carry the baby he doesn't want to tire you and force you to have more.

Neuvillete

< How many kids he wants 4 - 6 >

He was so happy after hearing about your pregnancy, the melusine will help you with your pregnancy and watch over you. Neuvillete will prepare everything as well using some dragon mating rituals for the preparation.

By collecting large amounts of comfortable pillows and soft blankets to create a large nest for you. To make sure you're comfortable. He will help you around with everything normal chores and walking are restricted your only supposed to lay on your nest to relax.

The melusine called your babies as their siblings and will protect you from anything, the steam bird pushy to share your pregnancy they will ask them to back away. The steam bird has been quite annoying following you around when you want to buy baby clothes as well fontainians love for drama they will approach you and ask about everything it has become quite draining dealing with people approaching you for information on your pregnancy. So that's why neuvillete prevents you from leaving the "nest"

Wriostheley

< How many kids he wants 1 - 2 >

After you told him about your pregnancy, it was kept as a secret in the fortress due to how many convicts are willing to hurt you as revenge towards him. So you were mouth to the surface and sigewine will do once a week checks up on going to the surface.

You live in an isolated place in the surface world, very far from Fontaine as well wriostheley office is built secretly to have an elevator going thru to the surface to visit you and your new home, the fortress is not a safe place for children.

He just wanted one but was afraid that the child would grow up lonely, the duke of the fortress of meriopede being your father makes the child stand out afraid they will be isolated by this information. If there were signs that the child was lonely or wanting a sibling he would not hesitate to give them a sibling

Zhongli

< How many kids he wants 3 - 6 >

If this happens during ancient liyue when he's by far much younger than his current timeline, you would already have lots of kids. They would have been grown up when traveler visits teyvat as well them being full blown Adepti. Cloud retainers would love to baby sit your babies and will tell you to rest and let her baby sit.

If you're pregnant in the current game timeline, you would still have a lot of kids but not as much as the other timeline, you have to stay at mt. Aocang under the watchful eye of the Adepti due to the babies not being normal humans. They are half adepti if you're human. So when the babies come you will deliver a safe birth. There is a large chance of you not surviving the birthing process so he will make sure you survive the birth process with the aid of the other Adepti.

But if you're pregnant during the archon war, you will be forced into hiding as well the news of your pregnancy hidden since teyvat are being a battle growns for gods to dominate and control the thrones and he has many rival gods wanting to destroyed him so what can cause him great pain of attacking his beloved. Everyday he would visit you with blood on his clothes and comfort you even tho you tried your best to stay away from him.

Tartaglia

< How many kids he wants 4 - 8 >

The happiest out of all of these yandere , all his life he wanted a family and finally he was given one. He breaks the news to his family and they are ecstatic. He spins you around the room and laughs.

He wanted to have a lot of kids he came from a big family and he has many siblings so expect to have more than four kids. He will buy you many luxurious gifts as well as many toys he can buy heck he buys an entire toy store for his babies. Will love any gender as long as it is his.

Fatui guards are there to guard you no matter, he will not let you get close to the other harbingers only ones he trusts the most who is pulcinella or arlechinno to watch over you when he's out in work, he move you to a more secluded mansion with a lot of servants during your pregnancy and his family will visit you to check up on you. You are not allowed to do any chores only rest in your bed.

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chillian-murphy · 2 days ago

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Experimental Treatment

SUMMARY: after numerous failed attempts to treat your anxiety, you enroll in an experimental drug trial run by Dr. Jonathan Crane (OR: how you became Dr. Crane's bimbo fuckslave)

WORD COUNT: 5.4k

WARNINGS/ADDITIONAL INFO: Smut 🔞, dub con, drugging, mention of anxiety disorders, bimboification, brainwashing kinda??, breast/nipple play, oral sex (m receiving), piv, Jonathan is manipulative and possibly a nevernude

beta'd by @pawnsong

You shifted nervously as you sat in Dr. Crane’s office for the first time. You’d tried numerous treatments for your trauma-related anxiety, but nothing seemed to work. It had been about a year since you had been beaten, tied up, and left for dead in a supply closet by one of Gotham’s many aspiring criminals, and you haven’t been able to eat, sleep, or generally care for yourself since. When you heard about an experimental treatment study happening at the local university, you enrolled as quickly as you could, moving faster than you’d ever moved in your life. You knew there was no one therapy or pill that could fix everything, but at this point, you were desperate for any sort of relief that could be offered.

The man that entered was much younger than you expected; you always pictured the doctor running a drug trial to be much older, maybe even a bit weathered from the stress of working in such a nightmarish city. Instead, he was small, slender, and had an almost angelic baby face.

“Tell me about what brings you here today.” He sat down without looking up from his chart.

“It should all be there, but to summarize: about a year ago I was assaulted and have been experiencing extreme anxiety, depression, and nightmares since. I can’t eat more than a few bites of food at a time without vomiting, and can’t remember the last time I’ve had a few night’s sleep. I’ve tried talk therapy and a slew of medications, including SSRIs, SNRIs, and benzodiazepines, but nothing seems to work.”

By this point, you’ve gone over your symptoms and previous treatments so many times that you had a well rehearsed script you relied on when recounting them. You worried that listing everything off in such a matter-of-fact way would lead people to think you’re just seeking drugs for recreational reasons, but fuck, what didn’t you worry about these days?

“As I’m sure you were told when you were applying for the trial, my background is in pharmacology and I’ll be putting you on an experimental drug of my own creation. I won’t bore you with the specifics of how it works, but you’ll receive a fast-acting injection once a week, and it should calm your nerves and improve your sleep. The exact effects aren’t well documented as of yet, which is why you’re here. All of the proper consent forms should be in order, so if you like, I can start you on the injections here and now.”

“Yes, please, whatever gets me my life back the soonest.” As nervous as you were to be injected with something you knew almost nothing about, part of you was almost giddy to be given something that might finally work.

“The drug can have some sedative effects, so no driving, at least for the first 24 hours. Do you have someone to pick you up? Family, a roommate? A boyfriend, perhaps?” Dr. Crane continued to inform as he prepared a syringe.

“I took public transport. Not a lot of people in my life.” you chuckled nervously.

“All alone. What a shame.”

Before you could mentally register his comment as odd, you were startled by the coldness of an alcohol wipe rubbing against your arm and the sharpness of a needle being inserted.

“You should start feeling the effects in about 5-10 minutes. I’m sending you home with a packet detailing what you should expect, as well as my phone number if anything unusual happens. It might be difficult, but I want you to take detailed notes on everything you experience, and we’ll review them when you come in for your next dosage.”

It proved a bit difficult to make your way home as the medication’s effects set in. Your body felt heavy and sleepy, and you had trouble concentrating; even reading the familiar train schedule felt impossible. Thankfully, some sort of muscle memory kicked in and you made it home safely, letting your brain turn off and follow your usual routine out of habit alone. The mindlessness felt weirdly comforting, you barely realized that you had moved from your spot on the subway until you were at your front door, fishing around for your keys in your bag.

The rest of the night went by pretty uneventfully, following your usual routine, with the addition of writing down your response to the medications in the journal included with Dr. Crane had provided you with. For the first night in as long as you could remember, you settled into a deep, dreamless sleep that lasted the full night.

*********************************************************

A week had passed since your initial meeting, and you were in Dr. Crane’s office again to go over how the medication had affected you and to receive your next dosage. You brought the journal you had taken notes in, although you were unsure how helpful it would be since you had mostly jotted down bullet points instead of writing down your experiences in-depth. It was the most you could do, since you were having trouble concentrating after you were dosed. Shit, that was another thing you should’ve written down.

The doctor entered quietly and greeted you with a tense smile, the kind of polite grimace you’d make upon accidentally making eye contact with a stranger in public. He motioned for you to hand over your journal of notes as he sat, and you passed it to him while trying to avoid looking at him as much as possible. He had never done anything to make you uncomfortable aside from being a bit terse, but he still gave you an uneasy feeling.

“Let’s look at what you’ve written down. Your notes are brief, but at least they’re organized.”

Once again, terse. It was tempting to want to interrupt and explain how hard it was to focus on writing every little thing down when you kept forgetting where you were or what you were doing, often wandering into a room only to realize you couldn’t remember why you went there, but speaking up felt like too much trouble all of a sudden. After all, wasn’t Dr. Crane being soooo nice, offering to help you with your anxiety?

You had no idea where that thought came from. Weird.

“Grogginess, that’s to be expected, the drug was designed with sedative qualities. Forgetfulness, once again, not uncommon. Sleeping through the night? Good. Breast growth? I’d like you to elaborate.”

“I started getting my appetite back and gaining weight—“

“Weight gain is typical if you’re eating more regularly than you were before,” he interjected before you could finish. God, did he think you were fucking stupid?

“But I only seemed to gain weight around my breasts and hips.”

“Are you saying you’d rather have a double chin and beer belly?”

“Well, no…”

“Then I don’t see what the problem is.”

“I can’t fit into any of my old bras. Bras are expensive.” It really felt like talking to a brick wall.

“Understood.” He scribbled a few quick notes before looking back up at you. “Is there anything else?”

“Not that I can think of.” Relief sank in when you realized this meant that your meeting was wrapping up.

“Then I’ll give you your next dose and let you go. Please continue to take notes, even if they are brief. Any information you can give me is immeasurably helpful.” He gave you what must’ve been his version of a reassuring smile, tight and forced, before motioning for you to roll up your sleeve and receive your next shot. A cold jab in the arm was administered, and you were on your way.

*********************************************************

The next week passed largely without note, the intense brain fog from the first dosage had lessened into a sort of ditzy forgetfulness, which was still inconvenient but easier to live with. You misplaced things, forgot what you were doing, and lost track of time regularly, but somehow it all seemed easier to just laugh off. Had it not been for a reminder on your phone, you probably would’ve forgotten all about your weekly meeting with Dr. Crane.

The usual unease you felt around him was gone; you were almost looking forward to talking to him. He was the only one you could really talk to about everything that had happened since starting the trial, and how good you’ve been feeling, how your racing thoughts have slowed, and how sometimes you didn’t seem to think at all. It was a relief you never knew existed.

You were so caught up in thinking about not thinking that you hadn’t noticed Dr. Crane entering, sitting down, or speaking to you until he cleared his throat impatiently.

“I said, do you have your notes from this week?”

“Oh, right, here.” You casually tossed over your journal, even though your notes were even more scant than the first week. You had written just three things:

boobs keep growing

really sensitive

really horny!!

thoughts not happening

“This is the second time you’ve mentioned your breasts.” It didn’t take long for Dr. Crane to skim your brief notes. “Would you mind showing them to me?”

Despite his relaxed posture, his stare felt about a thousand times more intense as you squirmed in your seat.

“That feels inappropriate.”

“I’m a medical professional. I assure you, I’m only trying to verify what you’ve reported.”

Cautiously, you pulled the front of your top down, exposing yourself to him. To your surprise, doing this didn’t make you feel nervous or vulnerable, despite always feeling rather timid about being seen naked in the past. Showing off for the doctor felt weirdly <i>right</i>, like the best thing you could do in any situation would be to do what he says.

He scooted forward on his wheeled office chair, leaning in to examine you closer, never losing the icily neutral look on his face. It’s not that you wanted him to leer, but something, anything other than stony professionalism would’ve gone a long way, especially as he reached out to touch you.

“You’ve gone up… two, maybe three cup sizes? Have you taken any measurements?” He cupped your round, heavy breast lightly, as if to evaluate it. His hand was surprisingly warm, you always assumed that his cold personality would extend to his touch, and that being handled by him would be like being prodded by a metal instrument.

“I dunno… enough that men have started being nicer to me.” Measuring hadn’t even occurred to you. A lot of things stopped occurring to you. It was so much easier just letting yourself not think.

“And you said they’re sensitive.” Gentle cupping had turned into squeezing, firm enough to make you aware of just how strong his hands are. You wanted to moan and lean into his touch, but you didn’t want to make things any more awkward than they already were.

“Yes” you squeaked out. “Really sensitive.”

“You also wrote down that you were, in your own words, really horny. Now, I’m going to need some elaboration, is that an increase in sex drive, or more like constant arousal? I need you to be as descriptive as possible.” He rolled your nipple between his fingers before turning his attention to your other breast, giving it the same treatment.

“It’s both. I’m just… always horny, and I come so much harder now. Sometimes I sneak off during work to rub myself in the bathroom. I can’t help it, it just feels so good, so much better than it did before.” You knew it was for the study, but telling him this much, especially while he touched you like this, felt… weird, like it shouldn’t be happening. But you didn’t want it to stop.

“Are you aroused right now?” If your brain wasn’t clouded by how much you were turned on, you would notice the subtle smirk on his face. Instead, you just nodded eagerly.

“Now, I’ll have to stop touching you so I can write all this down. You’ve given me some crucial information, and as a thank you, you’re welcome to grind against my shoe and get yourself off while I record everything you just told me.” He casually extended his leg as an invitation.

You dropped to your knees promptly, bare breasts bouncing with every movement, and stared up at him dumbly as you straddled his foot. He barely glanced at you while he jotted notes down, even as you rubbed yourself against the shiny black leather of his shoe. It didn’t take long at all for you to climax, and when your orgasm hit you, it hit you so hard that it was honest-to-god disorienting. It took you a moment to remember where you were as you shuddered and fell backwards to the floor.

This was enough to finally get Dr. Crane’s attention. You stared back up at him with big, doe eyes as you finally realized how bizarre and even <i>wrong</i> it was for a doctor to grope you and encourage you to masturbate in front of him.

“Good girl. Cover yourself and let me give you your next dose.”

The faint bit of praise sent shocks down your spine as you pulled your top back over your breasts and climbed back into your seat, and the way Dr. Crane touched you as he administered the injection felt gentler than usual, almost tender. As soon as the drug entered your bloodstream, any apprehension you had about what just happened quickly disappeared.

*********************************************************

“These… aren’t notes in any way, shape or form.” Dr. Crane rubbed his temples in frustration as he looked at the page of doodles you handed him, mostly hearts, stars, and smiley faces.

“I couldn’t think of anything to write. I thought I would make it pretty instead.” you shrugged as you sat with your legs folded in a criss-cross on the couch in his office, not noticing or caring that the position hiked up your already short skirt in a way that revealed your lacy panties. It was true, you couldn’t remember a single thought, new effect, or even what you did from day to day over the past week.

“If you can’t record and report how the drugs are affecting you, you won’t be of any use to the trial and we’ll have to take you off the drug.” he chided, as if explaining himself to a small child. “Because right now, you’re just wasting my time.”

“But I like the drug! I feel better!” you whined, rocking back and forth and pouting for emphasis. “I’ll be good. I promise. Just tell me what to do.”

“Can you tell me anything? Anything at all?” His tone was becoming more condescending, to the point where it got through to even your druggy little brain. He stared at you, daring you to say something, but all you could do was stare back at him dumbly. “That’s what I thought.”

“I’ll have the nurses prepare the outtake forms. I wish you could have been more useful to me.” He spoke curtly as he stood and gathered his belongings, not even dignifying you with eye contact. You were nothing but a broken tool to be discarded.

“But I need this!” You desperately attempted to stand and follow him as he left, but were unable to unfold your legs and spilled on the floor, catching the leg of his pants and staring back up at him with big, pleading eyes.

You were desperate, you were pathetic, you were suddenly useful again.

“I’m surprised you’re this determined to stay in the trial. I suppose we do have one last option: since you’re unable to record your own data, I will have to watch you and take notes myself. I have a spare room in my apartment that you can move into, which should be more comfortable than being committed to the hospital and allow me more access to observe you. Is that something you would consent to?”

You nodded eagerly, although you’d agree to anything as long as it meant not going back to the anxious, overthinking mess of a person that you were before. It was so much simpler being simple.

“I’m taking a big risk on you. I need you to do something for me, to show you’re serious about wanting to continue with the trial.” He gestured towards the growing bulge in his pants, which was mere inches from your face. You stared silently, not sure he was inferring, but your mouth instinctively watered and dropped open when he nudged your head towards his clothed dick.

You pawed at his tented trousers until he got impatient and undid the zipper himself and freed his erection from his boxer briefs, and you quickly got to work bobbing your head over his length, lavishing the head with your tongue. Your eyes watered as you pushed as much of his cock down your throat as you could, making yourself gag lightly but never enough to deter you. You didn’t care that drool was dribbling down your chin, Dr. Crane’s cock was all that mattered.

He grasped a fistful of your hair, reinforcing the rhythm of your movements, and shoving you further down on his cock. No matter how visibly uncomfortable you were, you never pushed back or struggled, you just accepted your place as a living fucktoy. Mascara was running down your cheeks and your skin was flushed and glassy with sweat, almost looking like the plasticky sheen of a blow-up doll.

Dr. Crane grunted as he came in spurts down your throat, still tender from the rough treatment. You didn’t waste a single drop of what he gave you, and ran your tongue over his slit to collect any remaining seed. Once you swallowed everything, you wiped the saliva from your face and smiled up at him sweetly.

“Can we go home now?”

*********************************************************

You had lost count of how many days it had been since Dr. Crane brought you home, in fact, most of your life outside of the past few weeks had been something of a blur. It didn’t matter, though, as being his pretty little pet didn’t require you to think much. You spent most of your days lounging about, watching porn, staring out the window, or oohing and aahing over the pretty clothes he brought home for you. It took him a while to settle on a style when he replaced your wardrobe, dressing you in everything from latex minidresses to 1950s housewife apparel, but eventually found that he favored soft, feminine babydolls in light colors like pink and white.

You were admiring the ruffled hem of the slip you were wearing when you heard him unlocking the door to his apartment, and you immediately rushed over to greet him. Seeing him was the best part of your day, and you couldn’t wait to sit in his lap and talk to him about your busy day of watching yourself edge in front of the mirror.

It had become something of a routine, he would settle into his favorite recliner after coming home from work, and you’d straddle him with your breasts in his face while he felt you up and vented about whatever was bothering him. His job at the university was soooo stressful, apparently conducting experiments on unwitting students is “frowned upon,” whatever that meant. You were always happy to make him feel better.

“…and the dean can’t even appreciate the validity of my work. Opening up the skull of a live subject is the most reliable way to observe changes in the brain, regardless of whether or not the ethics board likes it.” You had no idea what he was even talking about, but you did your best to seem sympathetic, hugging his neck and pulling his head into your chest.

“My day was hard, too. My vibrator stopped working and I had to rub myself by hand.”

“Did you try changing the batteries?”

You thought about what he said for a few seconds and fell into a fit of giggles.

“Duh! Batteries go in the vibrator! You’re so smart, you always think of the best things.”

“That’s why I do all the thinking in the relationship. You just look pretty and keep your holes ready.” He frowned at you in faux concern, as if you were capable of having thoughts of your own.

“I do keep my holes ready!” You bounced excitedly in his lap. You were so, so good at having holes and keeping them ready. Dr. Crane even told you so.

“Wanna show me how nice and ready they are?" his hands skimmed over your body, from the top of your waist down to your thighs and then around back to your ass, which he squeezed firmly, making you gasp softly. You raised the hem of your slip and pulled your panties to the side, revealing your pussy, which was wet from edging all day. You were never allowed to let yourself come while he was gone, that was a special privilege that only he was allowed to give you.

“Beautiful. And your ass?”

You rose from his lap, turned around, and bent over to show him the plug you’ve had in for the past hour.

“I started with the small one and put the bigger one in when you texted me, just like you asked." The plugs always felt weird and you didn't like the bigger ones, but if Dr. Crane wanted you to wear them, then obviously there was a good reason. He’s so handsome and smart, you’d do anything he said.

“Good girl." His praise made your heart sing as he fucked the toy in and out of you. He knew anal play frustrated you, and it was so cute to watch as you tried not to squirm as the bulbous plug disappeared in your ass. Maybe he’d lock your pussy away in a chastity belt and make you masturbate anally all day instead of your usual edging.

Dr. Crane could hardly believe how much his little experiment had changed you. When he started the trial, it was mainly to indulge his curiosity about how the antidote to his fear toxin would affect people with no fear toxin exposure, and most of the other participants reacted to it the same way they would to any other common anxiolytic, save for one particularly unfortunate person who had their fear response reduced so drastically that they walked into oncoming traffic without realizing it was dangerous. But you? You turned into the perfect fuckdoll: always aroused, eager to please, and too oblivious to notice the strange hours he kept as both a professor and as Scarecrow.

Of course, there were some down sides: he had hoped to mold you into something of a stepford wife, not only taking care of his needs in the bedroom but other domestic duties as well. Yet after your third time nearly setting the kitchen on fire while trying to cook a simple meal, he had to accept that you had simply become too airheaded to trust with anything but sex.

“Can we fuck now? My pussy needs you." You whined, interrupting the train of thought that had pulled Dr. Crane’s focus away from you.

“Good girls don't whine like that, sweetheart. I could fuck you, but for that I think I’ll make you wait until after dinner.” He chided. You were so much fun to toy with when you got desperate.

"But I am a good girl! Let me show you.” You pouted and begged.

“If you’re an extra good girl, you’ll be quiet while I’m cooking dinner and then we can fuck.” His tone was equal parts syrupy and condescending, “if not, you can spend the rest of the night gagged and locked in your cage. The choice is yours.”

Not wanting to spend the night locked in a dog crate, you crossed your arms and sulked, but nevertheless obeyed as you sunk into the couch. Your needy little pussy was aching, but you had to be a good girl for Dr. Crane. Even if it was mean and bad and unfair and… Oh? There’s a plate being placed in front of you, dinner must be ready already.

As soon as Dr. Crane sat down beside you, you snuggled into his side. Physical affection wasn’t something he was used to before bringing you home, and it took him some time to come around to it, but now he was actually starting to enjoy the amount of cuddles and kisses you desired from him. Spooning on the couch while trying to eat wasn’t the most practical thing in the world, although you were determined to find a way to bury your face in his chest while also stuffing it with mashed potatoes.

“Someone’s needy tonight,” he teased as he stroked your hair.

You just hummed contentedly and nuzzled your face into his neck. He was warm and smelled nice, like everything in the apartment. The one time you tried opening the window, it smelled like rot and gasoline, and made you sad and scared as it filled your head with vague memories of your old life.

Dinner passed comfortably and quietly, even as you squirmed to find a position that let you eat and snuggle at the same time. Dr. Crane’s attention was largely on the nightly news playing on the television, nodding along with the crime report. The news was mostly boring to you, except for that one weird time that a woman who looked like you and had your name was reported missing. Dr. Crane told you not to worry about it, though, so you didn’t.

“I’d say you’ve been a very good girl this evening,” Dr. Crane shifted to face you. “Would you like to join me in the bedroom?”

“What’s in the bedroom?” You stared blankly.

“Sex, sweetheart. I’m asking you if you would like to have sex.” Dr. Crane rubbed his temples. Perhaps drugging your brains out but leaving you just smart enough to talk was a mistake.

Sex! Sex was exactly what you wanted! Sex was what you dreamed about all day, edging your pussy and thinking of Dr. Crane. Your face lit up, which he took as a sign to lead you to the bedroom.

As you approached the bed, he toyed with the strap of your chemise, gliding it off your shoulder so it hung suggestively.

“I want this off.” His voice was soft, but his unblinking gazes held all the authority in the world over you.

“Yes, sir.” You made quick work of the garment, pulling it over your head and flinging it to the floor.

“Panties, too.”

Those silently slid off next, leaving you completely nude while he remained fully clothed.

Dr. Crane’s breath stilled for a moment as he took in the sight in front of him. It only took a few weeks of being dosed for your body to reshape into a bouncy hourglass, with full breasts, a slim, defined waist, and a round ass with thighs to match. A soft, trimmed patch of hair adorned your pussy, just above the lips, with everything else kept bare. Occasionally you’d have your pubic hair waxed into a heart, which he found ridiculous, but was easy enough to overlook if it kept you happy.

Once he was done drinking in the sight of your body, he gently shoved you onto the bed and guided your legs open, settling in between. His hand made its way to your eager little pussy, spreading the lips and pressing inside, making you shudder in pleasure.

“Have you been this wet for me all day, baby?” His voice now a low rasp, thick with desire.

“Mmmhmm,” you hummed in affirmation, too lost in the sensation to form words.

“God, you’re good for me.” He growled as he dived on top of you, kissing your neck and fondling your breasts. You couldn’t help but moan when he rolled your nipple between his fingers, tugging lightly. You were always responsive, but especially when he played with your tits.

He trailed soft bites down from your neck to your nipples, gently nipping at any skin he could grasp between his teeth. Once he got to your chest, he got more aggressive, sinking his teeth into you until you whimpered in pain. Your breasts were his favorite. He had never given much thought to the “tits or ass?” question before, but now that he could come home to a soft, inviting pair to play with and suck, he knew where his preference lied.

Feeling satisfied that your nipples were now swollen and pink from both arousal and abuse, Dr. Crane removed himself from on top of you to once again admire your needy body and tease your cunt. Even when he was just fucking you with his fingers, you moaned and rolled your hips as if it was the best thing you’ve ever felt. Some nights it could drag on for hours, he would stimulate you with just his hands or a toy only to withdraw before you could climax, giving pleasure and taking it away over and over to see just how desperate he could make you. It was no secret that Dr. Crane was a sadist, and watching you squirm, cry, and beg was almost as good to him as coming inside of you.

Tonight was different, though, he wanted to fuck. He pulled his fingers out of you and freed himself from his trousers and underwear, making a show of rubbing his cock with the wet essence covering his fingers as he lined himself up with your tight, eager hole. He pushed himself in slowly, savoring how hot and slick you felt around him.

Your life revolved around his cock. If you weren’t sucking on it or being filled by it, you were fantasizing about the next time you would have it inside of you. And now that you were being given exactly what you were craving, you couldn't get enough, grinding back against Dr. Crane every time his hips met yours.

No longer satisfied with the languid pace he had set earlier, Dr. Crane pulled back slightly, helping to lift your hips and push your legs towards your chest, essentially folding you in half so he could penetrate you deeper and harder. His new rhythm was merciless as his fingers dug into your thighs, pistoning his hips and fucking you like his life depended on it. Whatever frustration he felt with his job, his colleagues, and his extracurricular activities, he was now taking out on your pussy and all you could do was grip the sheets and take it.

Between the powerless feeling reinforced by his rough treatment and the way his cock was hitting your g-spot, you couldn't help but let your eyes roll back in ecstasy. You were fulfilling your ultimate purpose as Dr. Crane’s pet: a pretty toy to play with and look at, and an inviting set of holes to fuck. You could come from the thought alone if you were allowed to orgasm without permission. You met each of his thrusts with short, staccato moans as you arched your back beneath him, sticking out your chest as your breasts bounced with every hammering movement.

Dr. Crane’s breath grew ragged as he approached his own climax, and his motions changed from a fluid rhythm to jerky, rough thrusts.

“Play with your clit. Come for me."

Finally given the permission you’ve been needing all evening, you began rubbing yourself vigorously as he continued ramming his cock into you. It didn't take much to push you over the edge, and as your orgasm hit, you moaned so loud and luridly that it would make most seasoned pornographers blush.

Dr. Crane wasn't nearly as noisy as he joined you in orgasmic bliss, panting heavily as he filled you with his seed. Once he found himself thoroughly drained, he collapsed next to you and silently attempted to catch his breath as you rolled over and snuggled up to his chest.

“Let's go again!" you excitedly chirped while reaching for his softened cock.

“Later, sweetheart, I need to rest.” He had no idea how you recovered so quickly. "Why don't you play with yourself while you're full of my come? I know you like that.”

"It's not the same,” you begged. "I need your cock.”

"How about this,” Dr. Crane's clinical doctor voice was back. "You can warm my cock in your mouth while I grade papers, and once I'm good and ready, I’ll fuck your throat while you ride one of your dildos.”

You made a happy little squeal as you smiled and hugged him tightly. He took such good care of you, keeping you so well-fucked. You had everything you could ever want: you were safe, you were loved, you were happy. And all you had to do was let your brain be turned into cotton candy.

#cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut

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dear-oizys · 2 days ago

Note

Hi dear donors ! ❤️

I would like to extend my thank and gratitude for the support you have been offering over the last eleven months. ❤️☺️

My family and I have been suffering and going through the hardest days we have ever experienced in our life . Things are very hard to get and and sometimes unattainable.😭😓

Our sufferings and hardship started on the first days of the war when all our possessions were completely destroyed and burned. We have become displaced and homeless , finding ourselves in a small tent in streets with no means of life. We lack every single necessary thing of life; food, water, hygiene essentials, and other necessities have become scarce and rare.

A photo taken to show how incredibly harsh our life has become after the war. We are struggling and facing lots of barriers to obtain the simplest necessities for living. Everything single thing is a complete story.

You can't imagine what difficulties we have been going through all these days of war. No cooking gas , nor cooking tools exist . We struggle to prepare a small meal of food.

No bakeries are available. Everything seems a miracle and unbelievable.😭 The war has stolen our joy and smile, leaving us busy thinking only of staying safe and alive. Our future has gone with the wind and our kids lost their dreams and ambitions.

This is a part of burying the dead. We also face some problems in the process of buying our dead people as no place is there for the family. Tombs aren't enough for the number of people living on a small spot of land.

A photo taken for the morning queue of filling our gallons with drink water. We wait hours to get some water for drink. Our life is full of tragedy and sadness.

All what we need is to survive the war and be safe. We are trying to secure the daily basic living necessities and this can come true with your contribution and support. Please don't spare this moment of supporting the people in need in Gaza in this tough and dire time. You can help us by either donating however small it is or sharing my posts. Your support makes a big difference for families in need.

Stop Genocide

#palestinian genocide #free palestine

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dollishbabess · 3 days ago

Text

MY ONLY LOVE ⋆. 𐙚 ˚- DOLLISH

── .✦

(Song ── .✦ here)

A/n: literally I’M BACKKK (let’s knock on wood now..) but omg college got so busy atp that I disappeared from here oml but I can’t wait for xmas break but also I wanted to say that sadly romance-tober has been canceled until further notice and the amount of dms I got asking for the romance-tober posts are so much omg tyy but a lot of people are demanding a spin off but I’ll see if it fits my schedule tbh but I can’t wait!, but you guys my birthday is in like December 7th so only a month left so we’ll get a series but not romance-tober (maybe 2025??) but a birthday series in December will be going up till the 7th of December and I’ll list a q&a for that too.

Tags: jason todd x fem!reader

The sun was starting its slow descent, painting the sky in soft hues of pink and lavender, the kind of colors that only showed up during those fleeting moments before dusk. There was a chill in the autumn air, gentle enough to be refreshing but sharp enough to remind you that fall was nearly over was here, with its promise of longer nights and cooler days. The park was nearly empty, just a few distant figures walking their dogs, and a breeze rustling through the trees.

You had spent the afternoon setting up a small picnic, knowing that Jason would appreciate the gesture even if he pretended otherwise (he has a fear of gun shots going off at the park randomly.) The plaid blanket was laid out on the grass, anchored at the corners with smooth stones. A few candles, placed carefully in glass jars, flickered with warm light, casting a soft glow over the spread you had prepared. You had brought everything he liked simple sandwiches, fresh fruit, a thermos of hot cocoa. There was even a little bouquet of wildflowers, arranged haphazardly but with care, because you knew he’d like that kind of thoughtful imperfection.

Jason arrived quietly, as he often did, a shadow that melted into your line of sight as if he’d always been there. You saw the flicker of a smile when he spotted you, his eyes lighting up in that way that made your heart feel warm and full. He walked over, hands stuffed into the pockets of his leather jacket, looking like he belonged somewhere between a dream and reality, with the way the dimming light hit his features.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and familiar, as he sat down next to you on the blanket. “This is nice.”

You smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I thought you’d like it. Figured you could use a break.”

He nodded, a little stiffly, but there was a softness in his gaze that he didn’t bother hiding. “You thought right.”

For a while, the two of you just sat there, sharing quiet conversation and comfortable silence, with only the gentle rustle of leaves and the occasional distant bark of a dog breaking the stillness. He leaned back on his hands, his posture relaxed, and you couldn’t help but watch him. The way the fading light caught in his eyes, the way his hair fell across his forehead he looked at peace.

“I always forget how pretty it is out here,” Jason said, breaking the silence, his eyes fixed on the sky, which had deepened to a rich indigo. “Gotham doesn’t look like this.”

“Gotham doesn’t get to see you like this,” you replied softly, your voice almost swallowed by the night. He turned to you, a little surprised by the quiet honesty in your tone. “Calm, not on edge. Just… here.”

He chuckled, but it was a gentle sound, devoid of the usual sarcasm. “I guess you bring out the best in me.”

You reached over, grabbing the thermos, and poured him a cup of hot cocoa, the steam curling up between you. “I just want you to have moments like this,” you said, handing him the cup. “You deserve them.”

Jason took the cup, but his attention was on you, his gaze lingering, as if he was trying to commit every detail to memory. “You know, I don’t think I ever really thanked you,” he said, his voice a little rough, like he was trying to find the right words. “For all of this. For… you.”

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “You don’t have to thank me, Jason.”

But he shook his head, more insistent. “No, I do. You make everything feel less… heavy. Like there’s more to life than just fighting and surviving. And I know I’m not the easiest person to care about, but… I’m glad you do.”

The words hung between you, heavy and light at the same time, as if they carried a weight but also set something free. You didn’t know what to say, so you leaned in closer, closing the distance between you. He put his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer, and you nestled into his warmth, breathing in the familiar scent of his jacket.

The stars were starting to come out, tiny pinpricks of light scattered across the sky. You looked up at them, feeling the world slow down around you, and for a moment, it was just the two of you, suspended in this soft, glowing bubble of time.

“Stay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Just like this.”

He tightened his hold on you, resting his chin atop your head. “I’m not going anywhere babe.”

The world could be cruel and chaotic, but here, under the stars with Jason’s arm around you and the scent of wildflowers mingling with the crisp night air, everything felt achingly beautiful, like a song that played softly in the background, lulling you into a moment you wished could last forever.

@dollishbabess work not yours, do not repost or copy or translate.

Divider: @cafekitsune

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 2 days ago

Text

My Angel

Sam and Dean & teen!reader, Castiel & teen!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you’re a daughter figure to team free will, and you have time/location travel powers. One time you accidentally time travel back too far, and you have to face TFW before they met you.

Warnings: panic attack, then pretty much fluff

“Hey Sam?” You knocked on Sam’s door softly—no answer. You slowly pressed the door open, peaking in and seeing Sam fast asleep on his bed. You took a step back, pulling the door closed as silently as possible; you’d wanted his help to study for your test, but he hadn’t been sleeping much lately while he dealt with all the hunters now living in the bunker, so you wanted to let him sleep.

Next stop was Dean—but he was out on a hunt with Mary. Finally, you wandered around looking for Cas. You found him in the library poring over lore.

“Cas?” You approached him hesitantly, a notebook hugged to your chest. “Do you think you could—“

“Not now, Y/N,” Cas huffed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I need to finish this.”

“Oh.” You bit your lip. “Do you think maybe later you could—“

“Not now!” He snapped. “I’m a little busy trying to keep your brother from dying!”

You snapped your mouth shut, turning on your heel and leaving without another word.

“No, wait…” Cas’s regret came a split second too late. “I’m sorry!”

…

You clicked the lock shut on your room door, tossing your notebook on your desk before dropping down on your bed.

“Calm down calm down calm down,” you whispered to yourself over and over, rubbing your face and a few stray tears. The pile of homework on your desk already had you panicked, and you hadn’t been prepared for Cas to yell at you like that. Not only that, but on top of the homework you had a huge test, and you knew you weren’t ready.

Your handle on your emotions had been slipping lately due to all the stress, and with that came a lack of control on your powers. That had led to a lot more “incidents” lately—usually you’d just get transported to a few minutes in the past, or a mile or two away, but you were always scared that if your emotions got big enough, there would be bigger jumps.

“Stop it,” you willed your pounding heart to no avail. Your breath was coming in quicker and quicker gasps, and it was all you could do to sit up and try to keep the room from spinning. “It’s ok, you’re fine you’re fine you’re fine…”

You closed your eyes tightly as the panic took over and your head started to pound—a sure sign that you were traveling.

“No no no,” you whimpered. “Not now, just stop, just stop!”

The pain grew and your breath still hadn’t returned. You opened your eyes, but everything was still spinning, and black spots were flying around the edges of your vision. You tried to stand, but something sharp smacked against your head. The darkness spread, faster and faster and—

And nothing.

…

“What the heck?”

A man’s voice was the first thing you heard as you tried to force your eyes open through the pain that pounded behind them.

“Sam! Dean! Get in here!”

You groaned, blinking your blurry vision away. Dark wood lined the floor, and as you forced yourself to sit up, a room came into focus—an old couch slumped in the corner, an oak desk sat right next to you. An old man was crouched in front of you, a gun in his hand—

“Bobby?” You breathed. You’d seen the man in pictures before, but you’d never met him.

The gun twitched.

“How do you know who I am?” Bobby demanded.

“What’s going on?” Dean’s voice caught your attention—he rushed through the doorway, followed by Sam, and both froze at the sight of you. “Who the heck is that?”

The boys were younger than you’d ever seen them, by a few years at least, and you knew from what they’d told you about Bobby’s death that you must have gone back at least six or seven years—long before you’d met the boys.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Bobby insisted, cocking the gun in his hand. “And I’d better find out in the next five seconds.”

“Ok ok wait!” You insisted, holding up your hands. Your head was pounding—you’d probably hit it on the desk when you traveled, and you could swear that you felt blood running down the side of your face. “I’m…I’m from the future.”

Three blank stares.

“Right,” Bobby scoffed. “And I’m Bill Clinton.”

“It’s true!” You insisted. “I-I have powers, but I jumped back too far.”

“Do you expect us to believe—“

“It’s true.” Dean’s protest was cut off with a flutter of wings and the deep voice of Castiel. “She’s telling the truth, she’s from the future. I can sense it.”

“So what, she can just jump around time and—“

“No,” Castiel insisted. “No, no one should have that power.” His eyes flashed blue. “I need to take care of this problem.” He took one step forwards, but Dean jumped over to block him.

“Whoa whoa, hey, easy,” Dean insisted. “She’s just a kid, what are you gonna do?”

“She shouldn’t exist,” Castiel argued. “She’s dangerous.”

“Cas?” You whimpered, backing away from him.

“How do you know me?” Cas demanded, stiffening.

“We…you…” you swallowed. “We met…or, I guess, we will meet…in a few years. You try to help me control my powers. All three of you do.”

“Three?” Bobby asked, but you kept your mouth shut.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Castiel continued. “I would’ve killed you—I should’ve—you’re dangerous.”

“And-and you’re a lot different here than you are in the future.” Your lip quivered as you spoke, still keeping as much distance from Cas as you could. He wasn’t the gentle, caring Cas that you knew—he truly looked like the dangerous angel you knew he could be.

“What are we gonna do with her?” Sam spoke up. “Shouldn’t she go back to her own time?”

“I still don’t think she should be in any time,” Cas argued, his hand twitching—probably for his angel blade.

“Please.” A tear dripped onto your hand, and you wrapped your arms around yourself—despite the familiar faces, you felt surrounded by strangers. “Please, I-I just want to go home. I didn’t mean to come here, I didn’t mean to—“ you noticed Castiel’s hand relaxing slightly, and you took a deep breath. “Cas, you…in the future, you’re like a father to me. And I just want to get back to my Cas, I just…please help me get home.”

Cas took another step forward, and Dean didn’t stop him. You flinched when Cas lifted his hand, but he just placed it gently on your shoulder.

“I…I think maybe I can get you home,” Cas said slowly. “But you need to be more careful. If you jump like this again, you could disrupt the flow of time.”

You nodded. “I understand.”

“Ok.” Cas’s eyes softened. “Then let’s get you home.” He pressed two fingers to your forehead. There was a faint pulse of blue before your world went dark.

…

“Y/N? Y/N!”

You jerked upright to the sound of a harsh knock at your door. You blinked hard, rubbing your eyes, then your face—the cut on your head was healed.

You got to unsteady feet before unlocking your door and swinging it open to see Cas, looking frazzled and worried.

“Cas!” Cas staggered back in surprise when you through yourself into his arms.

“Are you ok?” He demanded, holding you close.

“I missed this you.” Your voice came out muffled against Cas’s trench coat.

“I…you what?” Cas asked.

“Never mind.” You sniffled, pulling away. “I’m just glad to see you.”

“N/N, I’m sorry,” Cas insisted. “I-I didn’t mean to yell at you earlier, I just…I guess I was feeling stressed.”

“It’s ok,” you insisted.

“No it wasn’t,” Cas argued. “I’m here for you, for whatever you need.”

“I think maybe school needs to take a back burner,” you said slowly. “Can you help me…with my powers?”

“I did say whatever.” Cas smiled. “So let’s get started.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz @johannelis2302nely

#the winchesters #dean and sam #dean winchester #supernatural dean #sam winchester #winchesters x sister #dean winchester x reader #winchesters x reader #dean winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #castiel & winchester!reader #castiel & reader #castiel x winchester!reader #castiel x reader #castiel x daughter #spn castiel #castiel novak #castiel supernatural #castiel

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in1-nutshell · 3 days ago

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you could write where Sari asks NightLight how Ratchet and her became Conjunx endura?

This story caught the other's off guard for sure.

Hope you enjoy!

How did Nightlight and Ratchet get bonded?

SFW, Platonic, Romance, Mention of injury, Cybertronian reader

TFA

The questioned started after movie night.

Nightlight had finished her evening patrols earlier than expected and the others had been preparing for Movie Night.

Nightlight had nothing better to do for the rest of the evening and decided to join in.

This made Sari very happy, seeing as Nightlight didn’t join in many nightly activities that were around patrolling or work.

The movie ended with its main protagonist getting married and riding off into the sunset.

Sari looked up to Nightlight, who was sitting next to Ratchet. Sari: “Nightlight, how did you and Ratchet get married?” All the bots are caught off guard by the question. Bumblebee: “Now that she mentions it, I don’t think either of you have told us.” Ratchet: “There is a lot you young bots don’t know.” Bulkhead: “Did you have a spring wedding?” Bumblebee: “Or maybe something like in a church?” Prowl: “…Who asked who?” Nightlight: “You do realize we did Conjunx rites? We didn’t do a ‘wedding’ like the humans do.” Sari: “Oh right, aliens… but then how did you get… umm…” Optimus: “Bonded?” Sari: “Yeah! Robo married!” Ratchet looks over at Nightlight and gives her a knowing smirk. Ratchet: “Yes Nightlight, how did we get ‘robo married’?” Nightlight looks uncharacteristically flustered and tries to make a break for it before Ratchet traps her on the couch using his magnets. Nightlight: “Ratchet!” Optimus: “Okay now I want to know.” Bumblebee and Sari: “Tell us!” Nightlight sighs in defeat. Nightlight: “All right, all right… sit down everyone… it’s a bit of a long story…”

…

It took place during the final days of the war.

The pair had been ‘dating’, if you could call it, for a while.

A couple hundred years give or take, but it felt a bit shorter given each other’s professions took a lot of time and dedication to.

It was a miracle for a field tech and detective could even find time for each other that wasn’t based on screen calls or rare mission briefs.

Nightlight’s most recent case had led her to the same base camp Ratchet was in.

It would soon come to her attention that the base would be under siege in a matter of days.

Normally a quick call would have sufficed in warning the others and getting the relief team on their way… if the base wasn’t under a tech blackout.

Nightlight made sure to call in the relief team for the base before racing to get to the base herself.

Ratchet was surprised to see Nightlight in the base looking so disheveled and panicked.

After briefly explaining the situation, the two helped getting the injured and other personnel bots out of the base before the siege started.

Too bad some Con scouts had entered earlier.

It was up to Nightlight, Ratchet and a few other bots to hold everything down before the others would arrive.

The small group was doing okay for the most part.

Ratchet spots a Con sneaking behind Nightlight. Ratchet: “Nightlight! Get down!” Nightlight immediately drops to the ground as Ratchet uses his magnets to throw the Con. Ratchet looks down at her worried as she hadn’t gotten up yet. She just stared at him. Ratchet quickly pulled her up, looking over for any injuries. Nightlight grabs his free servo. Nightlight: “Be my Conjunx?” Ratchet stops, completely caught off guard by the question. Nightlight punches a Con who was trying to attack them both. Nightlight: “We’re busy!” Ratchet shakes his helm in disbelief. Ratchet: “You decided that NOW of all times is the right time!?” Ratchet and Nightlight punch a couple more Con’s. Nightlight: “I am not going to go out without asking that.” Ratchet: “No one’s going out!” Nightlight: “Just being realistic—HEAD’S UP!” Nightlight drop kicks another Con. Nightlight: “I made my decision Ratchet… would you do me the honor of being my Conjunx for whatever time we have left?” Ratchet blinks before turning his helm to a nearby bot. Ratchet: “Kup!” Kup: “Yeah!” Ratchet: “You’re our witness for the Conjunx rites!” Kup does a double looking at Nightlight and Ratchet ducking from the blaster fire. Kup: “Now?!” Nightlight: “Please Kup?!” Kup: “… Sod it… Say your things! I’ll cover for ya!”

Both bots are fighting and yelling out their rites, gifting each other enemy blasters at one point.

Now officially Conjunx’s… just as the relief team came.

Everyone had survived, hurt and wounded heavily, but alive.

Many bots where surprised to hear that the sour field tech and detective had the bearings to do their Conjunx rites in the midst of battling the enemy.

The pair didn’t care too much about what the other younger bots were whispering about.

Mainly because Ratchet had a bit of a lovesick smile while Nightlight had tucked her helm on the side of his helm.

Both their servos tightly wound together.

They had lived for another day.

It would take them a few hours to get back to the capital for better care on their injuries.

It would also be a few days later before the war would have officially ended.

…

The team’s mouths were on the floor.

They were not expecting that!

Ratchet and Nightlight earned some respect on their names.

Optimus and Prowl are just surprised when they had made the rites.

It was completely dangerous and risky for Nightlight to make such a decision.

Though to put it in perspective, if she was that scared to risk doing one last thing with Ratchet before she went off line…

The two bots just hoped that they never had to see Nightlight make such risky decisions like that on Earth.

Bumblebee, Bulkhead and Sari are just floored with this story.

They were expecting something like a sappy love confession or them casually wanting to do it to lower their taxes.

This story gave the married couple a new light for the young ones to look at.

Optimus: “But there is one thing I don’t understand. Nightlight looked very flustered when mentioning about the story, why?” Bulkhead: “Maybe because she’s just embarrassed.” Ratchet chuckles. Ratchet: “No, its what happened shortly after we bonded.” Nightlight hid her face in her servos. Nightlight: “Ratchet please…” Ratchet: “The kids are going to keep on asking.” Nightlight graoned: “…Proceed…” Ratchet chuckled a bit rubbing circles on her back. Ratchet: “She apparently had a whole series of plans to ask me to be her Conjunx. All colored coded, alphabetized and in most likely to least likely to fail.” Sari: “Can we see it?” Nightlight jumps up and is out the door. Ratchet chuckles a bit. Ratchet: “Give her a couple of days, a few puppy dog eyes and maybe you get to see Plan Yellow C.” Prowl: “What is that one?” Ratchet: “Lets just say it involved several jetpacks, a few favors and Megatron’s sword.” Optimus: “Megatron’s what!”

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #tfa x platonic reader #tfa x reader #nightlight #nightlight x ratchet

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rikosseen · 2 days ago

Text

Lookism with mute, younger brother

Anon request | ft. Goo, Gun, Jake, Eugene, and Yuseon

You run up to Jonggoo, kicking the back of his knees. The blonde grunts, turning to look at you with a bored expression.

Look what I got, you sign.

Goo’s eyebrow quirks up to see what you’ve got this time. You quickly rummage through your bag and shove a figurine in his face. Your brother backs away for a second until he recognises it. Slowly, Goo takes it in his hands, and examines the object. Left, right, up, down.

Holy crap, is this the original?

A devilish grin forms on Jonggoo’s face before he grabs you and hugs you tightly. You squirm, trying to get out of his grip, but to no avail.

“This is the limited edition-” you kick his balls, and your brother falls to the floor. As he clutches his man pearls with one hand, Goo cradles the figurine with the other and looks up at you.

“Where’d you find this?” he says, caressing the object like a pervert.

In the next door dumpster. There’s other dolls there too, you respond.

Rapidly, the blonde scrambles to his feet with newfound energy.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME SOONER?! LET’S GO RIGHT NOW,” he screeches, running to the front door to put on his shoes.

You blink at your brother, and cock your head to one side.

You want to… look through the trash with me?

Goo waves his hand dismissively, and the two of you walk out to your neighbour’s trash can.

Your clothes are going to get ruined-

Before you can finish, Goo Kim is already diving head first into the waste bin, scavenging like a vulture. No. A hyena is a more fitting description- because Jonggoo is cackling like a madman.

It’s in the recycling bin though..

But your brother’s too occupied. So you sit down on the pavement and idly play with some rocks on the sidewalk as people pass by, calling Goo a homeless drunk.

Gun places the freshly prepared sushi on the table before turning to you.

“What do you have there?”

You eagerly offer him a few broken pieces of something, awaiting your brother’s reaction. Jonggun examines it curiously, studying it for a moment as he holds it up, inspecting it as if it were an artefact. Metal?

“Where’d you get this?” he asks, before promptly shoving a piece of sushi into your mouth. You absentmindedly place a few strands of blonde hair on the table. The hair seems all too familiar—alarmingly familiar. You pull a Polaroid from your pocket. In the photo, Goo stands outside his apartment, mouth agape, locked out. Jonggun stifles a snort, almost hearing the screech that must have accompanied the moment. He looks utterly ridiculous.

“Is this his sword?”

As Gun pieces everything together, your excitement is palpable.

Do you like it? you sign, still chewing contentedly.

Gun grins, ruffling your hair, and shoves two more pieces of sushi into your mouth.

“Go put it in your treasure box,” he says.

You jump up quickly, eagerly gathering Goo’s hair and the broken pieces of the handle, ready to safekeep them. But before you can make your way to your room, Gun grabs you by the back of your collar, tutting in mock disapproval.

“Finish the food first.”

You pout dramatically, but your brother simply stands up to go wash the dishes. He pauses for a moment, then turns back to you.

“How’d you manage to get into his apartment..?”

As far as anyone knows, Jake is the biggest softie for those he holds dear. And if he did secretly have favourites, you’d place first. The man absolutely loves how spontaneous you are, loves the way you get all excited to show him the new things you’ve found. Be it skipping stones, phallus-like sticks, leaves, or snacks that Sinu’s dropped, Jake has a whole inventory in his bedroom. One where he guards the items you give him like some forbidden treasure by utilising a lock. No one is permitted to take it, and only he has the key to said lock.

When Jake returns home, you jump up from the sofa to run up to him. Upon seeing you, he gives a crooked smile while taking off his loafers. He’s been coming home a lot later than usual, and the weariness is evident in his features. There’s not much you can do about his errands, but he brightens up enough when you give him the little treasures you find.

I went to the beach for a field trip today, and got you seashells. Do you like them? You eagerly look up at your brother, and his smile widens slightly.

The glimmer in his eyes returns, and Jake feels rejuvenated. Feels like his energy’s been replenished.

“I love them,” he says, squeezing your shoulders and embracing you.

Eugene’s head is in a spiral, and he wants nothing more than to be alone. So many things have gone wrong within the past few months, and more than ever before, Charles Choi is posing a tremendous threat.

Where on Earth could that red paper be?

As Eugene continues to lose himself in his concerns, the door to his office creaks open, and two heads appear. You and Yuseong stand in the doorway, awaiting his permission to enter and play. Eugene glances up at the two of you, letting out a small, amused breath before gesturing for you to come in. Without hesitation, you and Yuseong eagerly enter, quickly retrieving a large container of Legos placed near the bookshelf. While Yuseong busies himself with constructing a city, you suddenly recall something important. Scrambling to your feet, you rush over to Eugene and tug at his arm.

“What’s the matter? Got something new to show me?”

You nod enthusiastically before pulling out a red sheet of paper from your satchel. It’s a little scrunched up, but you hand it to your brother anyway. The chairman hesitates, but slowly unfurls it. When he does so, his breath hitches, and a quivering smile forms on his lips.

The red paper.

“Where’d you find this?”

Inside DG’s car. Can I get more paper like this? I like red paper, you respond, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

Heart beating rapidly, Eugene nods and gives your head a pat.

“Of course, of course,” he says. “Go and play with Yuseong. Let’s do something fun tomorrow.”

Your face beams at this, and you scurry off to play lego.

- I can’t be the only one finding this panel of Eugene so funny

#lookism #lookism x reader #x reader #goo kim #gun park x reader #goo kim x reader #gun park #eugene x reader #lookism manhwa #jake kim #jake kim x reader

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misspelledwordswizard · 3 days ago

Text

Misunderstanding

Legend x Reader

Summary: Where two idiots in love refuse to accept their feelings and end up suffering from their lack of communication.

It had been two days since we had passed through a portal that took us to an unknown time. We were currently searching for a nearby village where we could seek information, but night was approaching and there were no signs of civilization so close, which led us to the decision to set up camp. Murmurs of complaints about tiredness were heard, having been walking through the trees and sleeping under the stars for days on end, but there was not much to do; we should keep moving forward.

The group quickly split up, everyone already accustomed to their respective tasks so that everything could be organized as quickly and efficiently as possible. Already knowing my position in this math, I hurried to collect firewood and help Wild with the food. Everyone seemed discouraged and without energy lately. I wish I could do something to change that. Maybe preparing something different for the meal would be a good way to start.

I was quick to collect dry branches that could be used in the fire. These recent times that I was traveling with Chain ended up training me for this type of activity. I didn't have the habit of camping before, but now it has become part of my daily life, my routine, I had to learn to like it and adapt, but it's not so bad. At least I have good company.

I went to Wild with what I could get and he arranged to light the fire in his unique but quick way. With that arranged, we analyzed what we had in stock to choose the ideal recipe. Thanks to the Sheikah Slate, the ingredients were well preserved and we usually had a large stock of things. The problem is that with such a large group it was necessary to replenish frequently, and it had been a while since we had done that. The variety of vegetables was low, but we still had mushrooms and some meat, which needed to be replenished urgently tomorrow.

We decided to use all the remaining rice to make beef curry and mushroom onigiri, which we could store to eat tomorrow as well. With that decided, we set off to prepare. Wild took charge of the curry while I made the rice, which I would need a lot of water to wash, so I decided to start preparing it at the lake near where we camped. I grabbed what I would need and started to walk away from the camp. It wasn't very far, depending on where you looked, you could still see the clearing we were in next to it.

On the way there, I came across Veteran, who was returning from his own search for water for everyone to drink during the night. It's been a while since I've been able to talk to him. No matter what I do, something always happens that prevents me from starting a conversation or keeping it going for very long. I wonder if he's avoiding me for some reason, always dodging my questions, always avoiding looking at me. Maybe, even after all this time with me in the group, he still doesn't trust me, or he just doesn't want to get close.

This idea alone makes me sad. I would like to get along with everyone in the Chain, of course, but especially with him. There were few times when we could really interact, alone, but they were precious moments for me. Even without that intention, he managed to turn bad days into good days, just by talking about some nonsense with me or telling me about something from one of his adventures. I thought we were getting closer, but then what could have happened for him to avoid me? Maybe I said something stupid.

Seeing this opportunity to try to talk to him, I felt a smile form on my lips as I opened my mouth to say something nice and every day, just to test the waters, but I didn't even have time to do so. Legend walked past me, quickening his pace and leaving me behind, without even looking me in the eyes, remaining focused on his destination. Maybe this wasn't the best time, or maybe he just didn't want to talk. I hope so.

I made my way to the lake, trying to take my mind off it, I crouched down at the edge of the water and began the delicate work. It was an easy task, but not so quick, so I gave myself time to think. No matter how hard I tried, for some reason this boy just wouldn't leave my thoughts, surrounding my mind with all the possibilities of what could have happened, making my heart tighten melancholically, blaming myself for something I don't even know what it is.

I pushed these thoughts away when I finished the task, collecting the used things and returning the way I had come here. Trying to focus on how I would prepare the meal, I managed to distract myself enough, but that only made me realize how hungry I was. I approached the Cook, showing him my work and putting the pot on the fire, careful not to burn the only rice we had left. Still disturbed by those thoughts, I gathered the courage to approach the subject with the hero next to me, who might be able to shed some light on all of this.

— Do you think the Veteran has been acting strange lately? – I asked, trying to find out if it was really something related to me.

— Strange? Not that I noticed, he even seems a little excited. – Wild replied, confirming my suspicions, making me wilted.

— Then it must be with me. I feel like he's avoiding me, but I don't know what I could have done wrong?

— Avoiding you? I don't think that's it. Oh, unless you did something really bad, he's not mad, you can be sure. After all, if that complainer was mad at someone, you can be sure everyone would know! – He joked, making me laugh thinking about how dramatic the Vet could be sometimes, it was comical, kind of adorable.

That was good enough to calm my anxiety, for now. I would still like to know the real reason for it, but I don't want to pressure him, so I'll keep quiet for now. With that thought, I managed to calm down enough to focus on the food I was preparing and not burn what we would have for dinner.

◇

It was around noon, and we had been walking since sunrise, but to our lucky luck, we finally saw signs of a nearby village, which we should reach in less than an hour. Still unable to identify the area, we had no idea what time it was, but it was already clear that this was not the Hyrule of any of us, or else we would have known by now.

Wind had been telling me and the Blacksmith about one of his adventures on the high seas the whole way, in his usual lively manner, to which I tried to pay as much attention as possible, which was difficult considering that my main thought was showing my tiredness and hunger. The onigiri prepared yesterday had not even lasted an hour since we started walking, it was basically breakfast, but it was not enough to sustain everyone for that long, so I imagine the others are in a situation similar to mine.

I'll make sure the first place we go when we get to the village is a restaurant. That was the main thought going through my mind right now, but between the internal complaints of hunger and leg pain, I held on tight, listening to the Sailor's story and trying to be as involved as possible.

The sun was shining hotly in the sky, but it was a welcome warmth compared to the cold winds that were biting us. There was plenty of nature around here, but the trail we were on was through the middle of the forest, which made me think that all this nature might be a bit too much for me. There were times when branches and plants brushed against my legs, scaring me because I thought it was some insect. The boys must think I'm crazy because of the occasional muffled screams I would let out because of it.

I'm thankful for having heavy leather boots that were great for this type of terrain. I can handle monsters, but I definitely don't have the head to deal with small, poisonous creatures that can approach me without me noticing. Which is terrible considering my obvious lack of attention to my surroundings.

The rest of the way was a bit easier, the trail was more open, which allowed us to pass through peacefully until we reached the entrance of the village, where we were greeted politely by the locals. This seemed like a very welcoming place, accustomed to tourists, it was a relatively large village, so I imagine it must have been a long time ago from the Traveler. The locals who welcomed us answered our questions pleasantly and I was quick to ask where the nearest restaurant was, which luckily wasn't too far away.

Everyone agreed that we would eat first and explore later, we would need to divide the group into different tasks, such as getting information, staying, and restocking food. We followed the path that had been explained to us and soon came across the establishment mentioned above. It was a large restaurant with a rustic wooden look, very pretty, and it seemed like a comfortable place to be. None of us were against having lunch there, so we all went in, famished.

Time had to make sure everyone stayed in control and didn't cause a ruckus and end up getting kicked out. We had to wait a while until we found a table that would fit the ten of us, but soon we were all sitting down, chatting and thinking about what we would order to eat. Even with the Old Man and myself trying to control everyone, the table soon became a blur of animated simultaneous conversations, which I couldn't resist joining in on.

— I want a risotto! – Wind chose, excited to be able to eat something different.

— Wait a minute, we haven't even been served yet. – I replied, laughing at his excitement.

— Oh, I wish I could try a little bit of everything. – Wild commented, almost drooling over the menu.

— You can try a little bit of what each of us orders. – Hyrule suggested, receiving disapproving looks from his brothers who were not so willing to share their food.

— No way! – Four replied, not at all in favor of this possibility.

The conversation continued while everyone debated what they would order, I settled for a seafood fried rice, which looked simple but very good. So, we started to wait to be able to order, conversations were still circulating around the table, but at a relatively lower level than before. It was then that a beautiful young woman, a restaurant employee, approached our table, ready to take our order.

She was truly a slender, tall, and beautiful woman. She looked like a princess even though she was hiding in such ordinary clothes. Her long, wavy golden hair looked angelic, and her deep brown eyes showed a certain maturity. The others didn't seem to care much, but I know she must have received looks, which were totally justified given her level of beauty.

Soon we were waiting for the food in a pleasant atmosphere. The last few days had been peaceful, without any problems, while we tried to get to the village, which made everyone relaxed and was a relief. The food arrived and ran out almost as quickly. Everything was very tasty, and on top of that, the place was beautiful and cozy. It was truly a find. I would like to come back here before we leave this village.

It took about an hour and a half, from the time we arrived until everyone finished eating, paid, and went out to explore the city. Warriors divided us into small groups. Twilight and Wild would be in charge of hunting, Hyrule and Four would buy other food that was missing. Sky and I were responsible for finding a guesthouse and booking rooms while the rest of us split up to explore and get information.

◇

Sky walked beside me through the quiet streets, some locals who passed by greeted us kindly, which we reciprocated. After walking for a few minutes, we decided it would be best to ask someone where there was a guesthouse; this village was quite large and the last thing we needed was to get lost. Not to mention that, of course, we were desperate to rest soon.

After following the proper directions, we arrived at a large residence, with a very clear sign indicating it was the guesthouse. It was easy to find, it was the largest building in the area, which was mostly residential. We went in and Sky offered to make the reservation and request the rooms, getting five rooms with two beds each. I helped him get the keys, which we would have to distribute among the others later, but for now, we chose our own rooms to take a look at the quality of them – and to take a nap.

Entering the room, I was surprised by a beautiful view from the window. We were on the top floor, the third, and the view from here was very beautiful, not only that, but there was also a small balcony. The room was very clean and organized, the two single beds had large, heavy white duvets and two fluffy pillows for each bed. A small bedside table made of white and wood gave a charming air to the place, which in itself had a wonderful smell of perfume and cleanliness.

I felt like I could cry with happiness at finally being able to sleep in a comfortable bed and in a clean place without bugs climbing on me or grass biting me. I may be getting used to this adventurous life, but deep down I was still a homebody who loves a rainy day, being indoors, under the covers drinking hot tea and reading a good book.

I threw myself on the bed closest to the window, my muscles relaxing and a sigh of relief escaping my lips as I stretched out in bed. I stayed there for a few minutes, just feeling my body relax as I gathered the courage to get up. The receptionist told us that we could use the bathroom as much as we wanted, that the bathtub would always have hot water for a bath, and I would love to take one after all this time.

A little more rested, I lazily got out of bed, grabbed a towel also provided by the inn and headed out of the room, walking down the hallway to the end, where the bathroom door was. Entering the place, it was very simple, with a large bathtub in the center and some wooden buckets on the side. The bathtub was full and steam was coming out of the water. Great, I'm dying for a bath that will burn my soul.

I undressed and got in, feeling my skin sensitive to the heat and my muscles relax with it. I lost track of time there, but I must have stayed there for at least twenty minutes before I realized it and finished bathing. My mind, clouded by the good feeling, didn't allow me to have complex thoughts at that moment, and that was what I wanted most.

After drying myself and putting on clean clothes, I felt refreshed and ready for anything. With the towel wrapped around my hair and my dirty clothes in hand, I returned to my room, leaving my belongings in their proper places and hanging the damp towel on the balcony to dry. I could see how beautiful the day was outside through the large window, and that was enough to motivate me to go for a walk.

I left the inn quickly, taking nothing more than the bare necessities with me, my purse and wallet, because I don't know if I can resist the urge to buy a souvenir from this lovely village. Or a sweet treat at the bakery, that would be nice too. Walking through the streets bathed in the golden rays of the sun, I found myself lost in the comforting harmony that was there. It must be a good place to live, in a peaceful time.

I walked a little, about two blocks, before I heard two familiar voices talking nearby. Instinctively, I approached them, cautiously. I could recognize the voices of the Veteran and the Traveler, both having a conversation that I soon realized was personal, so I thought it best not to show myself and move away, but something about what they were talking about caught my attention, leading me to do something I'm not proud of.

— You don't have to lie to me, my brother, it's obvious that you like her. – Hyrule's words made me freeze in place, preventing me from leaving their private conversation, keeping me out of sight.

— I don't like her! You're all crazy if you think that, she means nothing to me. – Legend replied stubbornly, but even I, who haven't known him for that long, know that this was a big lie. Which made me go over it in my mind and think about who they were talking about.

— Oh, Vet, please! I saw the way you look at her, as if she were the most precious thing in the world, your eyes even shine. – The Traveler continued, sounding somewhat provocative.

— No way, you're seeing things that don't exist. – The grumpy boy replied, while I struggled to think about who they were referring to. The only viable option was the girl from the restaurant, she was the only woman we had come across in a long time.

— You can deny it all you want, but you two are the only ones who don't see it. – The other hero continued. – Believe me, walking away and denying it will only create more problems.

I couldn't hear the other's answer, because I left as quickly as I could, considering that I had already heard much more than I should have. Knowing that Legend was in love, and with a woman he had just met, is too much for me. I felt discomfort in my chest, probably because I had heard more than I should have, now I feel guilty and I don't know what to do. Maybe I should confess my sins to him, but then he would hate me even more than I believe he does.

I took a deep breath as I considered that I had distanced myself enough. Okay, I need to think on the positive side, I can use this to my advantage. I can do something for him so that he forgives whatever wrong I did, that way we can be friends again and he won't avoid me anymore! Well, then I believe I have a plan.

◇ ◇ ◇

I walked away from Hyrule when we arrived at the inn, which had already been reserved for our group. All this talk of crushes only served to make me angry, he's wrong, I would know if I liked her, and I don't. Speaking of which, it's likely that she's at the inn right now just like Sky, and I definitely didn't need to see her right now, not after all this nonsense I'd had to listen to. Trying to avoid this terrible encounter, I finally headed in the opposite direction of the inn, alone, to try to distance my mind from these thoughts.

It's been a few days since I last spoke to her, but hey, it's not my fault. I've been having some nice moments with the new girl over the past few weeks, and I was happy, until there was that fight against a group of monsters, in which I was so distracted by the good memories of our conversations, by her contagious laugh, her smile that I couldn't perform well in the battle, almost getting hurt several times because my gaze kept guiding me to her to make sure she was okay. Well, it's all her fault for needing help in the battles.

After that, I considered that it would be better to avoid her at all costs, just for this strange feeling to pass and I could concentrate like before. But man, this has been hell. Even in a short time I got used to her presence in our group, and then, less than a day without us talking and I was already torturing myself, every single thing that happened to me, my first thought was to tell her, so I had to scold myself for such a thought.

Seeing her talking to the others while I had to keep my distance was even worse, those lucky ones don't have to worry about getting distracted in battle. But maybe that's my fault, I was weak for not being able to stay focused, because apart from that my situation is the same as my brothers, isn't it?

I have to admit, she has become an important friend to me, but the Traveler is crazy if he thinks it's anything more than that, I mean, it's the same thing they feel for her too, nothing more! And now I not only have to distance myself to keep my sanity, but because I don't have the courage to talk to her, I know I must have hurt her by avoiding her, and I feel ashamed of it. But I can't say it, not yet.

My thoughts were interrupted when I felt a blow on my back, turning angrily to the person who hit me, only to completely falter to see the one I had been thinking about all this time, smiling at me like a silly child.

— Legend, I found you! Do you want to have dinner with me at that same restaurant? I really wanted to go there again. – The girl smiled excitedly.

— What? Did Team say we should eat there again? – Without much way to avoid this conversation, I just acted as if I hadn't exchanged words with my dear friend in days.

— Oh, no, I'm thinking of just the two of us going. – She answered, surprising me and making me more nervous than I would like to admit.

— Going to dinner, at a restaurant, just with you? – I said awkwardly, feeling my heart race pathetically for no reason. I had to look away, unable to look her in the eyes, probably because I had been so rude all this time.

— Yes, please! – She answered me and I felt forced to look at her again, only to see the look of an abandoned dog, begging for it, hitting all my weak points.

— Geez, okay, I'll go. – I agreed, feigning irritation to hide my nervousness.

She seemed satisfied with this, starting to walk in the direction of the restaurant and I saw no other option but to follow her. We weren't very far away, and since I had been walking around all day we didn't get lost either, so we were soon at the door of the establishment.

We entered together, and there was already a movement in the place, but we managed to get a table for two easily, it seems she had already booked it before. This makes me wonder if she had been planning this, a dinner, just the two of us, for a long time. I shook my head to get those thoughts out of my head and focused my attention on the menu in front of me. From what I understood, she wanted to come back here to try different dishes, so I would go for it.

My decision was interrupted when I saw her suddenly stand up, saying she was going to the bathroom or "something like that" and that I could order. She left, going into one of the corridors of the place and disappearing. I sighed tiredly, feeling my face heat up, I hadn't realized how being alone with her made me so nervous, at least this distance was able to give me time to think. Thinking about how all of this is making me feel strange, it was different from the guilt I thought I was feeling, it's much stronger. At the same time that I feel so awkward in this woman's presence, I can't see myself away from her, because this thought makes my heart ache.

— Would the handsome man like to propose? — A blonde woman, an employee of the place, asked me, with a suggestive tone in her voice, which made me frown in disgust.

— Hm, no, I'm waiting for someone.

— Oh, there's no need to be shy, I know you're interested. — She continued, too bold for my taste.

— I don't know where you got that from, but you're wrong, I already like someone else. — I answered, admitting what I had noticed a few minutes ago without a hint of regret.

— Hm, really? But your friend said you had a crush on me, sweetie.

— What? — I asked a little incredulous, and then I looked in the direction the woman was pointing, and, through the window, I could see the beautiful eyes that I had fallen for spying on us both, and hiding when they realized they had been noticed.

I sighed, holding back a laugh and at the same time frustrated. What did she do?

◇◇◇

I hid as fast as I could, moving away from the window, hoping I wouldn't be noticed. I had a plan, and it was a great plan, okay? I talked to the blonde girl, Amy, and told her that my friend had a crush on her, and if she couldn't give him a chance. God, she was arrogant, conceited and looked me up and down as if to say "Of course he liked me and not you!" I wanted to kill myself for going ahead with that idea, but it was for Legend, I wanted to see him happy.

So, I swallowed all my pride, and all the heartache I was feeling, and went after the girl to continue with my fake cupid plan. I guess it's kind of shitty when Cupid is in love with you, and yes, I admitted to myself, the reason this grumpy boy is in my thoughts all the time, the reason I always want to fight for his attention, for his smile, I ended up developing a crush on him. And I torture myself for it.

The restaurant door opened, revealing the aforementioned guy, coming out with a not very happy expression, he didn't say anything, he just grabbed me by the arm and dragged me away from the place. My heart raced nervously, he must be furious with me right now and I didn't know what to say, it was all my fault to begin with. But I thought she would at least give him a chance.

— What are you-

— Please, I'm sorry about that! I overheard your conversation with Rulie and found out that you had a crush on that girl and since you've been avoiding me lately I thought you might be mad at me, so I thought that by helping you with her maybe you'd forgive me for whatever I did and then you'd talk to me again, because I miss talking to you and you're very important to me and I just wanted to see you happy! – I said everything quickly, without even taking a breath, looking away for fear of how he would react.

Then, a silence, which lasted for a while, the only thing that made me look at him again was the sun of his sweet laugh reaching my ears.

— What are you talking about? I don't like that woman, I don't even know who she is! You got it all wrong, the woman I fell for was you, idiot. – Legend said, leaving me speechless, my brain struggling to process what he said.

My cheeks heated up when I finally began to understand what he was talking about, my heart in turn seemed to have gone faster in this regard, accelerating even before I understood the situation. I felt breathless, forgetting to breathe due to so much surprise, my thoughts meandering through all the events, replaying each one of them, but now with this additional information that made everything make sense, that took a great weight off my shoulders and the anguish from my chest.

— Oh, Hylia, thank goodness, I was dying of jealousy while I was doing that, I just didn't want to admit it! – It was the first thing that came out of my lips, while I sighed in relief, only then did I realize that this wasn't what I should say in a situation like this. – I mean...

— You really are an idiot, you know that? – Link interrupted me, approaching me and touching my face gently, pulling me closer so he could place a soft, warm kiss on my lips, which took me by surprise. I was initially lost, but soon I was returning the gesture happily, I felt on cloud nine being in his arms and my heart was pounding, happier than ever. – My idiot.

#link x reader #linked universe x reader #lu x reader #x reader #lu legend x reader #legend of zelda #linked universe #linked universe fanfic #tloz #my first one shot hehe #I don't think this is very good sorry #I have a lot to improve

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sixtsposts · 16 hours ago

Text

Bad memories - Bucky Barnes

TW: female!reader, fight in a couple, mention of Steve's death, mention of Rebecca, sad Bucky, past trauma, from angst to fluff?

"You're not even trying!" You were pissed off right now. Like a lot, to the point where you are pacing around your shared bedroom with Bucky staring at you.

It's been about thirty minutes that Bucky and you are arguing and your starting to loose it. You just didn't understand him right now.

"I'm just asking you to come to the cinema with us! Seriously Bucky, what's the matter here?" You shout again but with an undertone of curiosity in your voice.

Bucky look up in your eyes and it hurts him to notice the worry in the frown of your eyebrows, "There's not matter, okay?" He sighs and rub his face, turning slightly away from you.

"So you just don't want to spend time with me, that's it," you reply harshly, with a hurt expression.

"That's not what it means doll, you don't understand," Bucky sighs and try to take a step closer to you. Though you take steps back refusing to lean in.

"And what should I understand Bucky? You've been gone on a mission for two months, you're back since a week and all you do is meeting Sam to prepare new missions. And now, you even refuse to spend few hours with me and our friends?" You yell at him, "You're right, I don't understand," you cross your arms in front of your chest, you're so upset you could cry.

Bucky put a hand on his hip and rub his forehead with the other, "That's not- you don't get it," he says with whar looks like a tired expression.

"Indeed," you point out with a cold demeanour.

"I'm not trying to hurt you doll!" He suddenly turns to you with a sincere expression.

"But that's what you do though!" You reply back, taking a step closer witha frown.

"I'm scared doll!" He shouts suddenly and your angry expression flatters, "I can't handle this and it makes me scared, okay?" He repeats with a quieter voice. He turns his back to you, his arms fold against his chest almost in a protective manner.

You bite your lips, the way that his voice slightly broke not going unoticed by you. You sigh by your nose, starting to feel slightly guilty for your behavior. You walk to him slowly and gently put your hand on his back, stroking it softly in a soothing manner.

"You can talk to me babe, I'm sorry. You can always talk to me," you say quietly with a soft voice tone. You want him to feel safe around you as much as you feel safe around him. But you just failed.

"I could handle loosing my mind, my arm, my self-control because Steve was here. But now he left me and... I just don't think I can handle it, so I try to keep myself occupied," he starts to explain, the plain pretty clear in his voice. You don't interruped him but you wrap you wrap your arms around him back, holding him warmly in your loving embrace.

"I didn't mean to hurt you doll, I'm just so weak since he left," you shush him and stroke his torso with your thumbs.

"I know Buck it's okay, you're not weak," you mumur with a soft voice, holding him closer and tighter. He puts his hands above yours on his torso.

"The cinema it's just... I didn't do that since 1942 doll," Bucky keep explaining, his tone no more harsh at all. Your expression softens even more as he turns to look at you. "Going to the movie theater, it was always with Steve or... Rebecca," you look up in his blue eyes and grab his hand gently in your. If Steve was a hard topic now, Bucky's little sister completly taboo most of time. You understand that he's really opening to you right now. Your thumb stroke the back of his calloused hand in a soothing manner.

"I don't wanna bring up bad memories or force you into anything baby. But maybe it's the right moment to try things again? You can't stop doing all the things you did in the forties," you tell him with a soft voice.

Bucky sighs one more time, squeezing your hand gently.

"I'm scared- I don't want to go and find out everything is different. It'll remind me of Steve and het but at the same time prooving me they're both gone for real..." he pass a hand on his face again and you can see his internal conflict mixed with this sadness in his eyes.

"It's okay baby," you say as you put your other hand on his cheek. "I know you're doing your best and you're doing great."

You try to catch his gaze and when his eyes meets yours you smile warmly. "What do you think about staying here instead and cuddling in front of a movie with Alpine?"

Bycky chuckles slightly, his eyes full of tender and love, "Sounds good to me doll," you got on your tip-toes and leave a small kiss on his lips. He squeezes your hand again and lean in for another kiss, deeper this time.

"I love you doll," he mumbles as he put his forehead against yours. Your smile widen, "I love you too Buck."

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spiderman2-99 · 1 day ago

Note

✨:guilty-Gabriella

[5.20.2022, TRN-1042]

Gabriella had been… unusually sullen in the car ride after school today. Today was PTA meeting day, and one of the discussions was about some C’s in certain classes. The teacher told Miguel how he could help, that otherwise his daughter was a treat to have in class, etc etc., sometimes kids just struggle with some subjects. Miguel understood just fine, promised that he'd help, reassured that it was just a monetary setback, all that.

But Gabriella had been sulking in the passenger’s seat the whole ride home. At best, she’d give monosyllabic answers to Miguel if he asked anything— a far cry from the usual ball of energy he'd come to know and love over the last couple months.

She curls up a little in the seat, her forehead leaning on the glass of the window, arms crossed. She looks… disappointed in herself. Or apprehensive, maybe? Miguel won’t claim to be emotionally intelligent, as much as he tried to be for Gabriella’s sake. He never had to be until Gabiella. Shock. He still has so much to learn. Too much to learn.

He swallows thickly before finally breaking the heavy silence that descended upon the car ride.

“Gabi,” he begins, his voice gentle yet firm, "something's clearly bothering you. You've been silent since we left school. Is everything okay?"

Well. That was a lame start that, as expected, didn't get an answer beyond a half-hearted shrug. Dios en el cielo. He really doesn't want to pull teeth.

"Is it... about the C’s in your report card?"

The last sentence makes her wince slightly. So that was a yes.

(Miguel can't stop the awful thought of what if the other Miguel yelled at her about grades? He has to physically shake his head slightly to clear it.)

She shifts a moment in her seat. “I know, I’ll study harder…” she murmurs like she’s preparing herself for the gallows.

Miguel lets out a sigh through his nose. He isn't entirely an idiot, he figures it's more than just the report card— or maybe something so pressing that it's causing the slip. The problem is trying to get to it delicately; which is much more difficult than it should be for him. Being... soft, gentle, paternal just doesn't come naturally for him. He never had that sort of role model, and now he's flying blind in a life he stole, at any moment about to ruin it, and the sweet little girl that came with it-

Okay, no, no. Breathe. Get your head on straight, O'Hara. You're better than that.

“It’s not just about the grades, is it?” he urges. “There’s something else bothering you, and I want to know what it is."

He risks a sidelong glance. She has to know he's serious. "I’m here to listen, Gabi. I promise."

“I dunno… it’s kinda dumb, but…”

Out of the corner of his eye, Miguel can see Gabriella sit up straight, hesitating, trying to collect her thoughts. He won’t rush her.

“You’ve been forgetting a lot lately. Like… remember when I told you about Emily’s birthday? I’ve been friends with her forever, but you had to use a GPS to find her house. And sometimes I’ll tell you about something we did a year ago, and I can tell you’re trying to act like you remember but you don’t. And when we visited Abuela, you acted weird around her, like you didn't know her at all.”

Shit. Shit shit shit. His daughter, his beautiful, wonderful, smart daughter, noticed the discrepancies between him and the man he’d replaced; the gaps in his cover. It was only a matter of time before she put the pieces together.

"You've been forgetting events for school, and getting lost in our own city, and when tío Gabriel visited, you couldn't even keep up with the conversation he was making 'cause he was bringing up things you didn't remember..."

Then, Gabriella turns to him and gives him a look with those big, watery hazel eyes that makes him want to throw himself off a cliff. “Did you get hurt at work, Papa?”

...

Well. Maybe a little more time.

He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, his fingers clenching the steering wheel tighter. "No, sweetheart, I didn't hurt myself at work," he reassures, but the lie tastes bitter on his tongue. "It's just..."

“Something complicated again?” She interjects, going back to looking out the window.

Miguel grumbles in frustration. He should’ve realized his daughter would be just as much of a smart-ass as him. "Yes, mija, it's something complicated. But I promise, I'm handling it."

'Complicated' is an understatement. It’s a whole paradox, a breach in reality, a cosmic crime against nature. He hates not being honest with her, but how the hell is he supposed to say ‘your real father is dead and I replaced him’?

God, he's a coward.

Miguel would give everything, anything, to make sure she’s okay through all of this. But the more time passed, the more he knew he didn’t deserve to be her father. He isn't her papa. He could never be.

"It’s nothing you need to worry about, okay?” he continues through the lump in his throat. “It’s something... something only adults have to deal with.”

"Everyone always says that; it's always something 'only adults deal about'," she retorts, glowering at her father. "It's affecting me too, but anytime I ask—"

"I can't tell you, okay?" he snaps, his voice strained; the tension rising between them as foreboding as storm clouds in the horizon. He has to take a deep breath before he continues, forcing a calmness in his voice. "I can't. Please, you have to trust me. It’s- it's for your own good, mija."

"And that's another thing they tell me; it's aaaalways 'for my own good'-"

"Gabi..."

"-but how can I trust you when you don't trust me, huh?"

"Gabi."

"When you're acting all weird and not telling me anything anymore and-"

"Gabriella Angela O'Hara."

She winces and shrinks back into her seat. Christ in Heaven, this is going all wrong, and it feels like all Miguel can do is watch it happen.

"You think I don’t want to tell you?" He continues, grinding his jaw to keep the rising anger out of his voice. The last thing she needs is his anger. He can't act like George O'Hara. "You think I want to keep you in the dark? Do you think I like hiding things from you? I’m doing this to protect you, because..."

Miguel's words trail off. He can’t say ‘because I’m not your real father.’

Baffled, hurt, she presses on. "Because what? You- you think I'm too stupid or something? I can't handle it?"

Christ, isn't that a wonderful, ice cold jolt to his already frayed nerves? "No! No, it's not that! You're not stupid, you're the most brilliant, amazing child I've ever met."

He swallows hard. The lump in his throat feels like a brick.

"It’s not that I think you can’t handle it, it's that you're still just a kid! And you shouldn't have to handle it!"

Gabi lets out a long groan, slumping her head against the headrest, but seems to drop the subject.

Momentarily.

Long enough to lull Miguel into a false sense of security. Long enough for him to pull in their driveway before he hears--

"Still get to feel it all go to shit though," grumbled under her breath; only audible due to Miguel's enhanced hearing.

He kills the engine and just... sits there a moment; the silence thick and oppressive, thoroughly killing any semblance of energy he had left. The language suddenly doesn't even feel worth reprimanding.

Slowly, he turns to look at her. His daughter. His sweet, beautiful, brilliant baby girl. The only thing left in the world that is truly good.

I'm ruining her.

Then again, he ruined her the second he inserted himself into a life that wasn't his. He should've known this charade would blow up in his face. God knows he can never have anything nice without having to fight for it; tearing into it with his teeth and shocking it all up from his own desperation.

When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet, pained.

"Gabi," he begins, his tone heavy with a mix of guilt and frustration. "I... I'm doing the best I can. I'm trying."

She doesn't even look at him. "Not trying good enough."

Shocking hell. Out of all the things she could inherit from her father, did it have to be his bull-headedness and the ability to cut where it hurts? It's bad enough on him, but when it's someone else? When it's the truth?

He has to fight the urge to snap back, to say something he’ll regret, to prove his own inadequacy correct. Instead, he closes his eyes and takes a breath in an attempt to collect himself.

Operating word being 'attempt'.

Bile still leaks into Miguel's voice as he grates out, "Get out and go to your room."

"What-" So now she decides to spare me a glance.

"Get out," he repeats, low and deliberate, "and go to your room. I don't- I can't be with you right now."

The pause that follows as his words sink in isn't just pregnant; it's straight-up post-due with a necrotic placenta and a calcified fetus.

The words are already out; no taking back even if he felt they deserved to be. Gabriella's expression morphs from horrified to disgusted to a sort of passive anger.

Finally, the silence is broken by the sound of her seatbelt clicking. Then, "fine. I don't wanna be with you either," followed by the car door slamming.

There's no parting barb, no further vitriol thrown at him. Maybe there should've been; there'd at least be some sort of outlet for Miguel to let out his metric shitton of pent-up frustration and sheer, utter rage. They'd both deserve it then.

But there is nothing.

Just a broken, run-down, irreparably shocked up man trying to pretend to be a father; the role fitting him as good as if he'd skinned his alternate's face and wore it on top of his own. Why did he bother? Gabriella doesn't deserve her life being ruined by a genetic abomination from another world deluding himself to be something capable of loving.

He slumps his head against the steering wheel and screams.

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