#maybe I'm at the right age and this is the right time to truly understand what this show is about
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aikya-kat-44 · 20 hours ago
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This is my life.
I always knew something was off about my friendships. I was told by adults I was overthinking. Then I found out the truth when I was 5.
Because my best friend, after ages giving those subtle signs, finally revealed their dislike of being my friend.
I thought they were the one person I could always count on. I was wrong. I would never quite trust anyone fully again.
Do you know what it's like to watch your mother cry? Believing she is ugly because of her dark skin, wishing she was fair like you. It is heartbreaking. I wanted to take her tears away. I wanted to hug her and never let go. Do you know what it's like to know that your parents are working their butts off to give you a better life than they had, only for you to push away food for no reason even you could explain? Do you know what it's like to cry alone in your room about seemingly nothing?
My teachers hated me for doing things everyone else was supposed to. Because I'm brown and I didn't bring in Indian food for them as a 'gift' every lunchtime. Because I used to point out their mistakes in class when they made them. Because I didn't have to pay attention to succeed in school. Because I didn't pay attention. Because no matter what, I was in the wrong and everyone else was in the right.
So I learned to lie. The people in my life taught me that it wasn't safe to be myself outside, so I wore a mask. One that made me 'good'. One that made me palatable. One that locked away almost all of who I truly was.
I made new friendships that were born to die every time. I learned not to get too attached, to distance myself to avoid hurting others. I got a reputation for being calm and mature for my age. I suppose you could almost call me popular. Except all popular really was was to live surrounded by false friends. But somewhere along the way I made a true friend. One who supported me. One who didn't treat me like I had to earn the right to exist in their social sphere by changing myself to fit in.
I would feel guilty for taking up their time. I would feel like I was using them every time I told them one of my problems. Because I had always been taught I was manipulative and unwanted, so now I believed it.
I almost felt wanted, then. My friends had become family. I belonged.
I suppose my brief happiness was never meant to last. Because one night, someone flicked a switch. We grew up, maybe. Maybe an evil sleep demon whispered in all their ears but mine. But suddenly all my friends were fighting. Everyone seemed to hate everyone else. And, once again, I was no longer welcome.
Alone again, as always.
I moved house. It made things worse.
I hated the new place where I lived. My parents, who had always been the most supportive and loving people in my life, thought I was overreacting (even they'd never understand). All I could do was cry the night away. I felt both too numb and too emotional at the same time.
My new teachers liked me about as much as my old ones had. But I was falling behind in my schoolwork. I had always been good at school without trying, but now, for the first time, I was getting average grades, and I lacked the motivation to even look at a question for more than 1 minute. It was an endless spiral of frustration, confusion and doubt.
High school is, after all, where dreams go to die.
There were people just as homophobic and racist at my new school as at my old one. But there were people who were nice. So nice. I wanted desperately to be friends with them. But I knew I could not, because I had bullied myself into believing I would destroy any connections I made. That I was unworthy of affection. It's like I was cursed to be forever longing, looking from the outside in.
So every time people got close to me, I started acting like the jerk I believed myself to be. Pushing them away before I could hurt them. Before I could be hurt. I could outneurotypical the neurotypicals practically when masking, when I had to make a good impression on someone who I would only know on basic terms, but when it came to trying to forge meaningful bonds I had no words. I couldn't. I had a hundred million words to lie with, but not one that could capture the truth. To make someone understand. All I wanted was for someone to understand. Nobody understands. Everybody seemed to hate me.
That is why when my friend disagrees with me, and screams that I am manipulative and always make things too hard, all I can do is agree with them.
a bottom-tier autistic experience is being told throughout your entire childhood that you are just an overthinker when it comes to social situations and later finding out that your friends did, in fact, hate being around you and tried to communicate that through weird little hints
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dramaism · 1 year ago
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watched 1,5 seasons of the originals while i was on vacation and I've come to the conclusion:
one season of the originals >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> 8 seasons of the vampire diaries
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samonroegf · 6 months ago
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good teachers create good students
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when you, a virgin, have to have a sex scene with hayden christensen, he shows you what a good orgasm can truly feel like, in preparation for your scene together.
costar!hayden christensen x actor!virgin!f!reader, smut, fluff, age gap, dad kink, oral (f receiving), creampie, reader is 19/20ish, hayden is late 30s, dddne?
requested by anon! ᝰ masterlist
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you sat nervously in your trailer, reading over the script multiple times. this would be your first time filming a sex scene, cold sweat crawled up your back. trying to keep yourself in a somewhat good mood, you shake your head trying to physically shake away the thoughts.
a knock on your trailer door pulls you out of your brain's endless cycle. walking the few steps to the door, your breath is almost taken from you. hayden christensen, your partner actor, stood mere inches from you.
you would never admit this even being tortured, but truth be told, he was one of the main reasons you choose this role. he was a phenomenal actor, and he was quite pretty to look at. your cheeks burn just thinking about it.
you smiled nicely at the older man, who wore an equal expression.
“hey! what's up?” a cheery expression, as you spoke. you bit your check, hoping it's not too noticeable. your mind was reeling just with having him in front of you. being a kid that grew up on television, you'd always been aware of hayden. he was like that dream man, that you never have a chance with.
“just wanted to come check on you, tomorrow's shooting will be a little grueling. you think you're up for it?” he chuckled, and the sound went straight to your stomach. you just step aside allowing the taller man to enter your small trailer.
he sat in a booth with you by the window, the sun shining like gold on his light hair. you'd hoped you looked equally enchanting.
“honestly,” you dragged out the word, mindlessly scratching your arm where no itch resided.
“i’ve never actually had sex, or like an orgasm so I'm not sure I'll be too good.” his aura just made you want to talk to him, you wanted to curse him for being so inviting. your cheeks warmed again, mentally chiding yourself for telling him this at all.
hayden’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he tried to get it under control. he couldn't understand how you'd never been touched, it's been hell trying to hold back and be professional. you shot him an embarrassed smile and looked out the window.
“i can help you,” he offered, but from the look on his face you were sure he didn't mean to actually say that. a nervous giggle slipped from your lips and now it was your eyebrows that were almost in your hairline.
“oh?” you weren't sure what to say, you weren't even totally sure that this wasn't some fever dream. you pinched your leg under the table just to check, it hurt, this is very real.
he leaned back into the seat, allowing his eyes to gaze over you. you were somewhere between hazy with lust, and feeling totally exposed.
“yeah, you're a cute little thing, helps you and helps me.” it was like he was being possesed by a man touch starved. maybe he was. there was a dark glimmer in his eyes, like a shark right under the water getting ready to attack..
it made you nervous and excited. you couldn't help but squirm under his watchful stare.
“oh, um, that would be great.” you couldn't keep eye contact with him, your gaze dropping down to your fidgeting hands. unsure of what to do next. you hoped you looked more composed then you felt.
you watched hayden as he moved, getting up to lock the door and close the blinds. he would be damned if someone was going to interrupt the two of you. he is thanking whatever god out there that this opportunity was brought to him.
he came back to you, just smiling somewhere between sweet and sinister. his hand comes to hold your cheek, he was so kind and yet you knew that probably wouldn't last long. another excitingly fearful wave passes through you.
you couldn't help but lean into his touch, humming contently. you guys had been here for months working on this film together. you'd become work buddies, always cracking up on set. now you knew there was no way that it would go back to that.
big eyes look up at him, and he has to look away to keep himself in control. there would be time for rough fucking later, he wants you to know how beautiful you are. can't let your first time go to waste.
“c’mere,” he leads you to the bed on the other side of the trailer. the bed was perfectly made, almost makes him want to laugh. you're such a good girl.
you were basically dumb in his presence, something that doesn't go by unnoticed. he loves how flustered he makes you, maybe he shouldn't but it boosts his ego.
you followed his lead to the bed, coming to sit right next to him. you're somewhere between fainting and vomitting, because you're here in bed with hayden christensen and you can't say anything.
“don’t be nervous, doll, I'll be so nice to you. but you gotta talk to me here. i have to have your consent.” he obviously knew you wanted this or you wouldn't have followed him like a lovesick puppy. verbal consent above all else, especially with you being so much younger than him.
“i want this, i actually don't think I've ever wanted anything more.” it sounded more like begging, than a statement. hayden's cock hardened against his pants, and he muttered, “fuck” under his breath. a playful smirk now played at his lips.
“using your words like a good girl,” his voice was so gentle and soft like a love confession, rather than dirty talk. a whine escaped your lips, you'd never been looked at like this, and especially not talked to like this. your body felt like it was on fire, and hayden is the only fire extinguisher for miles.
words aren't needed at this moment, he just helps you lay down. coming to lay beside you, his fingers drifting over your exposed midriff.
“i’m gonna kiss you now, okay?” his words are so soft and gentle, if you didn't know any better you'd think you were in a romance novel.
“please.” you're pleading and he hasn't even touched you yet, the way he's been looking at you makes you feel like there's a million exposed wires replacing your nerves.
“you're gonna be the death of me, baby.” he chuckles lowly and dark, his lips met yours, soft and hard all at once. his kisses are gentle, slowly coaxing open your lips to let his tongue explore your mouth. he groans into the kiss, and it makes you whimper.
your fingers clutch at him, pulling him closer if that were even possible. he can't help but smile into the kiss. you're so needy and innocent, he can't help but think about how sweet you must taste.
he seperates from you, allowing you to catch your breath. you're flushed, and the lust flowing theough you is almost unbearable.
“please, hayden, need.” you're so dumb with want, not a single coherent thought in your head.
“seems little girl needs to learn some patience.” he speaks into your neck, lightly biting and kissing on the skin.
“hayden,” you're whining, your thighs rubbing together on their own accord, trying anything to get some friction, something to alleviate the pain of need.
he kisses down your body, shedding of your outfit, one piece of clothing at a time. his lips enevlope around your nipples, little sighs falling from your lips like prayers. hayden wasn't sure he'd ever grow tired of the sounds.
he moved down, slowly pulling your bottoms down. almost like he was trying to torture you, or at least that's how it makes you feel. in reality, he's trying to savor every inch of creamy skin.
he finally comes face to face with your cunt. if you weren't so lost in his touch, you might've been nervous. however his hungry eyes make you feel wanted, beautiful.
“i just need one favor, baby,” his voice barely above a whisper, like he was afriad of your answer.
“anything, whatever you want, I'm yours.” you breathed out, a sultry tone in your words. you'd never heard yourself sound like that, it almost makes you wanna hide.
he tugs his lip betwen his teeth, just for a second before letting it go.
“call me daddy, okay? think you can do that for me?” you were quick to nod. you were probably going to do it anyway, but something about the way he asked made it so much hotter.
“words, baby.” his voice has a warning tone to it, and you almost wanted to push and see what he'd do. you weren't in a place to be able to do that right now.
“yes, daddy.” your voice shook a little as you spoke, the anxious energy seeping back into your bones.
“good girl,” he kissed your happy trail, all the way down until he was mere inches from your slit.
he licked up a stripe and you were about cry from sense of relief. his tongue slipping around your clit, his touch too much and not enough all at once. you were squirming under him, he tsked you. moving his arms under your thighs to hold you in place.
“let daddy take his time, angel, i promise you'll come soon enough.” his voice was low and you were sure you could come from that alone if he just kept talking.
“sorry,” you're wearing a sheepish smile, hiding your face in your arms. one of his hands coming to bring them down, holding both of your hands in his one.
“don’t hide, i wanna see you.” he's rubbing your knuckles comfortingly. it helps ease some of the tension, your body relaxing.
“there you are, now stay still as you can for me, yeah? and don't you dare hide those little noises from me.” you hum in accordance.
he pays more attention to your pussy now. his tongue dipping in and out of your core, wrapping his lips around your clit. eliciting whines and moans from your ‘o’ shaped lips.
he inserts a single finger, and the combination of his finger thrusting in and out of fo you and his lips attacking clit makes you come undone. shaking and crying as you come, he just looks at you with a smile.
“you look so beautiful,” his voice brings you out of the teance the orgasm sent you in. you give him a playful smile, completely in awe of the man before you.
“can you give me another one? need to fill you up, baby. can you take it?” can you take it? the words echo in your mind, almost like a challenge. you were determined to show him that you could and would take it.
“of course, i can,” you push up on your arms to actually look at him, it makes him smirk at your attitude.
it doesn't take him but a few moments to get undressed, and then he's stretching your walls with his fingers. preparing your hole for his girthy cock.
“daddy, hurry.” you pout, needing to fill him all the way. determination replaced by need.
“do you want it to hurt? cause i can stuff you full, but I don't want to hear any crying.” he's becoming a little impatient with her attitude, the soft, gentle man replaced by a wolf.
the way he spoke, and the look on his face makes you giggle, a giggle that's from the need to keep pushing those buttons.
his left eyebrow arched at your little outburst, “i want to be gentle with you for your first time, but you're making that really hard, doll.” curiosity piqued, you had to see what kind of roughness he'd give you.
“then let go,” you smiled oh-so innocently at him, and he couldn't take it anymore. an almost animalistic growl tears its way from this throat. with a few strokes of his cock, he was pushing into you.
the stretch was deliciously stinging, and you weren't sure if you liked it or not. but getting to see hayden above you, tongue poking out as he does his best to stay still. he's not a monster, he doesn't actually want to hurt you, unless that's what you want. tears streaming down your face. he tsks you again, “what did i say?” his hand comes to wipe away the tears and you lean into his touch once more.
“move, please move,” you're whining, squirming and wiggling. he thought he could get used to this sight, his little girl just needing to be split by his cock.
“what's the magic word?” his tone was playful and teasing, you almost want to bite it out of him.
you thought for a moment, what would probably get the most of a reaction out of him. so still pouting, and now batting your eyelashes at him, “daddy, i need you to ruin me.” your tone was genuine, you needed it and you needed it now.
what little bit of control hayden had left, has dissipated from those seven little words. he's grabbing your hips pulling them up to meet his. fingertips diggin harsh into your flesh, and he pistons in and out of you.
“fuck, doll, you're so tight. your cunt was basically made f’ my cock. taking me so well.” the pain has subsided, and all you can think about is the waves of pleasure being brought you by a man 10 years older than you.
“mm, daddy, so good, so full, love daddy’s cock, love it so much.” you're babbling, dumb and incoherent, unable to think about anything other than his member bullying your insides.
his hips are twitching and you can tell that he's getting close. you slip a hand down to your clit to rub little circles on the bud, but you're almost immediately stopped. one hand, now wrapped around your waist as he fucks into you. the other one holding your wrist, “let me do all the work, princess, just wanna make you feel good.”
his tone was indecipherable, but you nodded dumbly, letting him attack your clit. you can feel your muscles contracting, that familiar knot forming in your stomach.
“gonna come, daddy, gonna come, dad.” you're rambling again and it's making hayden feel sick in the best way possible.
“where you want it, baby?” he's always asking for permission, nose nuzzling into your neck taking in the scent of your sweat.
“inside, please, inside, please. want all of you, please.” he's smiling down at you again, not that you can see, your eyes rolling back in your head as your body begins to convulse.
“gonna fill you up so good, angel.” his hips stutter one last time, and you can feel his cum feeling up your cunt, it just makes you more sensitive.
you both fall to the bed, out of breath and hayden is laughing. if you weren't in such a daze, you'd ask him what was up.
“damn, doll, that's the best sex I've had in a while, you did so good.” he's laying on his side, leaned up. nimble fingers pushing your hair out of your face. mumbling little conpliments as you regain composure.
“well, i think it's safe to say, I'll know exactly what to do tomorrow.” you giggled and he agreed with a hum. he pressed a kiss to your forehead, then nose, both cheeks and finallly your lips. soft and scattered kisses pepper across your skin and you giggle at him.
he gets up grabbing a bottle of water and some washrags to clean you up. easily manhandling you to wipe down your whole body from sweat, and gently collecting the cum that's cascading out of you. you wince from sensitively and he apologizes, pressing a kiss to your tummy.
he hands you the water and watches as you down the entire bottle, “i think I'd like to do this again sometime.”
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readychilledwine · 7 months ago
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hello!! please could i request one where the reader is an OG member of the IC and very close to azriel (she knows that he’s her mate, he doesn’t) and sister-like to the rest of the IC. once feyre and her sisters come about, she often confides with feyre so they’re also close.
anyway, there’s an important event for the reader on day and she expected the rest of the IC would join her (she invited them?) but no one turned up and she’s absolutely exhausted, emotionally and physically, by the end of the day.
when she’s back, everyone is together at the house having fun and one of them notices she so dressed up but looked exhausted. maybe someone says something snarky and there’s an argument. azriel defends the snarky person so reader and azriel have an argument (hurtful words towards the reader) and that’s when the mating bond snaps for az and he’s regretful. things happen but happy ending for the reader, az and the IC. thank you 🫶🏼💗
Odd One Out
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Summary - After 500 years of friendship, the last thing you ever expected was the Inner circle to miss one of your symphonies. But you know what they say, time changes people.
Warnings - I warned you all to watch out for angst, right? Elain being catty, reader feeling lonely, Azriel being an idiot
A/N - I promise Bound by Fate is still coming. I'm just constantly rereading it and not happy with where it's at. It's probably because I needed this out of my system. I hope this is close enough to what you were looking for! It wrote itself, so I'm worried it may stray too far from the ask! Please let me know if it did.
✨️ Azriel Masterlist✨️
Odd One Out pt 2
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Maybe you had asked too much again. You looked to where the empty seats for the Inner Circle and Archeron sisters sat one last time before moving forward. You had worked too hard on this symphony to let this stop you. You were the last to go on stage, the conductor in her gorgeous sparkling gown and heels. You were the picture perfect face of composure as you bowed before turning and raising your hands.
You were introduced to Rhysand at a young age, and the two of you were quickly friends, so when he became High Lord, a place at his side was handed to you without question. You were eloquent, elegant, and kind. You were perfect for the position of emissary, and you single handedly won him friendships and alliances among every court aside from Spring.
He had never stopped you from pursuing passion, though. Your father had forced you into harp lessons from the tender age of 4 until his untimely death. He sat by your side for hours, teaching you to speak through letters written on a sheet that so fee could truly understand. It was an escape that turned into a career. One Rhysand specifically built the amphitheater you currently stood on for. The music you wrote woke emotion on the High Lord and all of Velaris, quickly making you one of the most popular females in the City of Starlight.
No one enjoyed your music more than Azriel's shadows, though. Nor did anyone enjoy you the way they did. How they knew you two were mates while he sat clueless and doting on Elain would never make sense to you, but the shadow turning your sheet music for you tonight was at least a small comfort, even if your family, mainly his master, was not here in their resevered High box seats.
You were exhausted when your arms lowered for the close of the show. You stood to the side, plastering a small faked smile on your graceful features as you held your arm to the orchestra, signaling for their bows before taking your own and leaving. You were the last one there, sharing thank yous and goodbyes as you musicians left. You chose to be alone for a while on the harp that sat in your sound room at the theater. You had a song in your mind, and you needed to let it speak before it left. Even if it was created from a place of raw emotion. It was near midnight when you finished, leaving the new composition to sit until you returned tomorrow.
You could hear the drunken laughter the second you walked into the old Riverhouse, the one you and Azriel made home as the mates of the Inner Circle began occupying the other houses, and signed as you removed your heels and picked them up into white tipped manicured nails. "Y/n!" Cassian's booming drunk voice slammed into you as he did. "Where have you been, baby?"
It was Nesta who gasped, looking at the clock on the wall before whispering a soft oh no as she saw your dress. Nesta who covered her mouth, eyes beginning to water as she shook her head and stared. Nesta who glared to Feyre.
"Why do you look so dolled up?" Rhys had a slight flush to his face, a wide smile as he took you in. "Hot date?"
You couldn't help but stare, shaking your head as your throat tightened. "You all seriously don't remember." Rhys knitted his brow thinking, and his face slowly fell.
"Y/n Darling, I am-"
You put your hand up to him before he could finish, shaking your head as the tears actually fell. "Save it. Spare me your lies and excuses." Cassian looked to Nesta and then Rhys, his own face falling next as he remembered.
"The symphony."
"Was beautiful, regardless of my support system deciding wine and board games were more important than the first live art performance in Velaris since our high lord was captured." Your voice was shaking as you looked up, avoiding Hazel eyes that were wide in shock as every single ounce of heart ache you felt hit him.
The bond finally snaps, his shadows hissed. We've been reminding you all day. And now you've hurt our mate. Ours. We went. Where were you?
"Maybe if you were actually good at writing music, we would have remembered." Mor's glass of wine hit the floor as your breath stilled. Rhys felt his hands fall from Feyre's lap as she audibly said Elain's name in an insulted tone. Amren was immediately held back by Varian. "Obviously, if the people who you claim you're so important to did not see making time to go a priority, we did not miss much."
Cassian heard your breath shutter. You stared to Azriel, waiting for him to come to your defense and not realizing his silence was due to shock from the bond and Elain's sudden cattiness. "Very well. I see I am no longer wanted, and I will not stay where I am not wanted," the whisper was all anyone could hear as you turned and walked away. The door shut behind you, and as if the Mother truly hated you, rain began falling softly, and you made your way back to the amphitheater.
Azriel had never shoved someone off his lap as quickly as he did Elain in that moment. But it was Rhysand who spoke, "How. Dare. You." The High lord went to stand, grabbing his jacket. "When your sister was dying, I sent her y/n's music. The mobile you play for our son every night, is y/n's music. The music that plays in Hewn City is y/n's music. She is an essential part of my circle, my family. How dare you tell her that her passion, her joy, and her career mean nothing to us."
Azriel backed away from Elain. "Your true colors disgust me, Elain Archeron." He studied her, truly studied her for the first time as the door slammed shut following Rhysand's exit. "That is my friend, my closest friend. You just hurt her like it was nothing. Cut her so deeply you will never be able to repair it."
"Well, if she mattered so much you all would have remembered."
Feyre spoke then, between heavy sobs, "I wrote down the wrong date. I wrong down tomorrow night for opening night. We were going to take her to dinner. It was supposed to be Nyx's first concert. This is my fault."
"Again, proof it didn't matter." Elain sipped her white wine as if Feyre had all but solidified her opinion.
"Get out," the growl from Azriel took everyone by surprise. "Get out of my home. You are no longer welcome here."
He was out the door, running to catch up to Rhysand in the rain, but missing the High Lord. He entered the amphitheater drenched and in silence, sitting next to where Rhysand was in the dark.
You were on stage playing violin as you always did when your heart was breaking. Every stroke of the strings had the bond growing tight before you dimmed it on your end, as if each movement of the bow, each note, was you whispering goodbye. "She told me she is leaving," Rhysand rubbed his face next to Azriel. It was then he saw the tears staining the perfect features of the High Lord. "She said this is my last performance before she leaves for Dawn."
"There's nothing we can do then?" Rhysand shook his head at the question before his head fell into his hands and his shoulders wrecked into sobs. "She's my mate."
"I know," Rhysand looked to the stars. "I've known for years. She never said anything, and now she never will. What little piece we had left is gone. Her light had been blown out by Elain's statements."
"Let me-"
"Just please stop talking and let me enjoy this."
It was the song he had sent Feyre under the mountain. A score that read of hope through pain.
And hope was all Azriel could hold on to as you stood and bowed, winnowing away as soon as you were finished.
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General Taglist:
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects
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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 1 month ago
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Missed You
Step mom!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader
Word count: 859
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, stepmom/stepdaughter, induced lactation/nursing, emotional distress, guilt, age gap (W=35 R=19)
Authors notes: Thank you to @scarlethexelove for helping with this when I was stressing
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You'd been at college all year, using every excuse to not go home. You were so nervous to see her again. Before you had left, your stepmom had let you know how she truly felt about you. You felt the same, but it scared you, so you ran away to college and stayed away. Now it was the middle of June and you sat in your car in the driveway, gripping the wheel until your knuckles were white.
She's your stepmom. This isn't right. It's wrong to be in love with her, but you couldn't help it. Her warm and loving nature pulls you in. You tried to get her off your mind at college, but every time you tried to be with someone else, it felt wrong.
Every time, you thought of her. Once or twice, you'd been slapped and left when you called out her name. You take a deep, shaky breath as you finally get out of the car and grab your suitcase. Opening the front door when you get there you call out, "Anyone home?" Then you hear her feet padding on the floor and she comes around the corner. The biggest smile on her face. You want to melt when you see it.
"Oh malyshka, you're home." She comes over and wraps her arms around you. You can't help but melt into her. All the tension you've been holding onto melts away in an instant. Your arms wrap around her waist as you bury your face in her chest.
You breathe her in, and suddenly you want to cry. You left her for ten months. Ten fucking months. You guys got to be together for two weeks, and then you left her. You feel so shitty for that.
“I'm..m'sorry for leaving like that...” Your voice cracks and breaks. Wanda rubs soothing circles on your back,
“Shhh moya krasivaya sladkaya devochka (my beautiful sweet girl).” She brings you over to the couch.
“I-I missed you so much, Mama.” Wanda shushes you again as she pulls you into her lap. She makes you feel safe and wanted. Who cares what others think of you and your relationship with Wanda. You want this.
Wanda kisses the top of your head as she cradles you in her arms. “I love you so much, malyshka. I'm just happy you're home.”
“R-really Mama?” You ask, looking up at her. She had you cradled so nicely. You were in the perfect spot to suckle. You had gotten to do it once before you left, and Wanda had promised that when you came back for break, she'd be lactating for you. This confused you because at the time, as you didn't realize you could induce that without being pregnant.
You doubted that she'd be prepared for this. Maybe Thanksgiving and Christmas she had tried, and then when you didn't show up, you assumed she'd give up on that little fantasy
Wanda gently strokes your cheek. “Oh moya sladkaya devochka (my sweet girl) of course Mama loves and misses you.” You whine and nuzzle into her chest.
“Love you too, Mama. M'sorry I didn't come back, was scared.” You mumble against her.
“What were you scared of, sweetheart?” She asks and you blush, burying your face against her.
“S-scared of you...of of falling in love and...and...” She pulls you back out and into a kiss that you melt into. Your racing thoughts coming to a halt.
“I understand that it's scary baby, but I do love you so very much.” A heat rises in you, your stomach flipping as you grip her shirt tightly.
“Love you mama! So so much!” You blush even harder and hide your face, which causes her to chuckle.
You're nuzzling into her chest, and you hear as she lets out a gasp. You look up to her, your eyes wide with wonder.
“What is it, Mama?” You ask.
“Mama's chest is sensitive, baby.” Then you notice it. A wet spot where her nipple is. You lick your lips at the thought.
“M-Mama...are..are you...?”
She smiles down at you. Without answering, she moves you enough to pull her shirt off, revealing her bare chest. Her pebbled peaks leaking some milk. You lick your lips as you can't help but stare.
“You...you still...?” You swallow hard just wanting to give in and latch on.
“Every time I knew a break was coming up, I'd start back up.” She pulls you gently until you happily latch on, feeling her warm milk filling your mouth. You relax against her, eyes twinkling up at her as you listen. “I never gave up hope that you'd come back. I knew you'd find your way back.”
You whine around her as you continue to suckle. Feeling bad for leaving her full and sensitive, just waiting for you to be here. “S-Sowwy Mama.” You mumble around her some of her milk trickling out your mouth.
She carefully wipes it up. “Enough apologies, milaya. All that matters is this and we have two whole weeks to ourselves.” You get excited at the thought of two whole weeks with just her and all the stuff the two of you would get up to.
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goldsbitch · 23 days ago
Text
Open your eyes
Everyone is self-conscious about their body sometimes. For Y/N's it's always been her small boobs, living in the belief that this would make her unattractive. Can her best friend help out?
warning: light smut, nipple play, blindfold
this one is for the flat chested girlies out there
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If only teenagers knew how all of their peers are just as insecure as they are. Might have saved a lot of trouble, sleepless nights and maybe even stop everyone from overthinking and living more of a "just finally kiss me" life.
//
It was a sunny summer afternoon, as per usual, these two late teens, would spend it in a room with all windows covered up, eyes glued to the screen and hands gripping gaming consoles. They grew up as close friends, in fact he was the only one she ever potentially felt comfortable enough to admit her insecurities.
"Still don't get it why you said no," he noted, once again, to the situation where one of his racing friends asked for her number and she declined without providing a reason.
She ignored him the first time he'd address it, hoping he'd just let it go. It was frustrating how much invested he was in that. With a big sigh, she replied the same as she did before. "We are just not the right fit."
Lando, a teenage guy with a massive crush he had yet to decipher, was not satisfied with that answer.
"Don't get it," he said nonchalantly as he blew her head off in the game they were playing.
"Fine!" she responded and nearly threw away her console. She locked eyes with him, still not sure if she wanted to share her deepest insecurity.
He knew her, in the light reflected from her screen he could see on her face that the mood in the room has changed drastically. No more casual fun and games.
"Spill it," he dared, perhaps realizing for the first time why he craved her presence so much. "Was this it?"
She took a deep breath, trying to somehow ignore Lando's intense stare. She would always closed her eyes when something "scary" was in front of her. With her eyes shut, she finally spoke. "It's, um...You know," she said, vaguely pointing around her chest. Poor Lando was so caught of guard he forgot to breathe for a moment. "What?" he said, confused as ever.
Another annoyed sigh. "Don't make me say it, Norris."
"Well, you're really bad at pantomima thing, so I'm afraid you'll have to," he said, keen on not letting this go, his mind trying to ignore his inner disappointment.
"Fine. But promise we will never address this again."
"Promise."
"He just, he seems like the kind of guy who would want a more developed girl..?" she said, still not sure how to communicate it.
"As in all the braincells? I see your point now," he couldn't help himself from teasing her. Ever.
"Dickhead. My boobs," he almost bursted, once again gesturing to her chest. "They are so small. Why would someone like him find that attractive?"
Now, he was truly taken of guard, no idea how to respond, because he could hardly understand. It made the wheels in his head spin. Only at that moment realizing he'd do anything to see her small boobs one day. Y/N mistook his surprised silence as a confirmation of her own insecurities.
//
Once his brain processed the newly found information, Lando understood, as best as he could, where Y/N's insecurity regarding her boobs came from. While he'd never admit it, he often wondered whether he himself was "developed" enough. He had always been smaller than guys his age, something that is hard to hide. Same with breasts, unless you really wanna fake it, you can just tell from the outside.
Ever since that summer afternoon, he started to notice things he did not before. How could he not hear the subtle comments she made so often?
He was hanging out in her room, the last evening before he parted to several races. They were suppose to meet some friends later, so he stopped by, expecting her to be ready, while she was busy trying on a seventh top and still not liking it.
"This one has just too low of a v-neck," she whispered, perhaps more to herself, but ultimately, he did hear her. It's been weeks since the first and last time they spoke about it, Lando managed to pass many comments she made about herself.
But, fuck it this time. It was bothering him endlessly that she was insecure like that.
"That's it, Y/N. You know that the size of the boobs does not matter, right? Guys don't care about that," he stood behind her, locking eyes with her through the mirror she was standing in front of.
She froze, staying silent.
He continued. "Tell me, did a guy ever complain when you slept together?" They would usually share stories of their "achievements" in the past, so he was aware that she was sexually active. It was just that recently, that thought became sort of uncomfortable. Other guys touching her.
She snapped back. "Well, they never complained, but the also never even looked at them, so how could they know!"
"What does that mean?" he asked, once again confused.
She wished her mouth would wait for her brain to approve sometimes. Especially with Lando. There goes nothing. "'I've always kept a shirt on."
Baffled Lando wondered how could those other guys allow it. "So you've never shown your tits to a guy?" he said, almost astonished.
"No...It's not my asset and I know it. My, um...my ass is pretty good?" she defended and he had to try so hard not to picture her, on all knees, spine bending and her ass perked up towards him.
He swallowed, barely believing the words he was about to hear coming from his mouth. "Then show them to me."
Her eyes went wide. "Lando!" They had a close friendship, but not the kind where walk around naked in front of each other.
He held his arms up in defense. "No, I mean...hey, you know me. You have to show them to a guy one day anyway. And I promise I'll tell you the truth. No bullshit." He knew he crossed a line. Which was why he almost did not believe her next word.
"Ok."
To be fair, it did make some sense. If you really look for it. But while he was crushing on her without realizing, she had been crushing on him for months, fully aware of it. There was a tingling in her stomach when he made this suggestion. Unfamiliar, exciting tension. As if she wanted him to stare at her tits, no matter how insecure she felt about them.
"But I can't watch you," she added, turning around to face him. "I'd be too embarassed."
"So close your eyes?" he noted the obvious.
"No, you gotta tie my eyes," she said, making his cock twitch in his pants.
//
It was hard for Lando to wrap around his head what exactly was happening. As he was tieing up a band around Y/N eyes, she accidentally touched his hands when she was checking it.
"It is too tight?" he asked softly, waiting for her to deny it.
"All good."
He stepped away and turned her around so that she would stand face-to-face with him.
"Um, whenever you're ready, I guess," he announced. Part of him could not believe what was happening, another part of his was scared she's back out and another was terrified of himself. And how much he craved to see her.
She took a deep breath and tried to block all her thoughts. And boy, were there many. The strangest one was the excitement.
With one swift move she took her shirt off. Lando's pupils were wide and he probably didn't blink for minutes now. She bit her lower lip and turned around to face him. He had seen her in a bikini before, why was this so much better. She put her hands back and finally took her bra off.
He should have never suggested it. He knew he'd not forget the sight of her small, perky boobs with perfect nipples anytime soon. It was better when he did not know. He stared in silence, while she stood there, blindfolded, nervously rubbing her fingers.
"Gosh, say something, please," she pleaded impatiently.
"Um...No, um," he said, getting his voice stuck for a moment.
"Oh shit, it's bad, right?" she asked, while her heart sank in.
"No!," he immediately reacted, somewhat coming back to Earth. "They are...nice," he said, trying to downplay his own excitement. "Small, but nice. Firm...I guess."
She sighed. "Ok..."
He shifted himself, gaining more presence again. He was aware that what he said would affect her deeply, so his plan was to fix his initial reaction, not to make her wonder. "Seriously. If a girl I was on a date with had your boobs, I'd be more than happy. Trust me."
She relaxed a bit and instinctively went to somewhat cover herself up again with her hands. "That's good to know. Thank you."
He wanted more. To see more. His hormones acted before he did, shooting the boldest test of their friendship.
"There is one thing my sister mentioned few times..." he said before he managed to stop himself. "Apparently...if you massage them, it helps the blood flow and helps them grow," he stated, almost ashamed of himself for making things up like that. It was wrong. He should have just tell her upfront just how much he wants ti touch her.
She knew well enough that was some bullshit. But it was a chance. To know what if feels like when a guy like Lando touches you.
"Um, this might sound weird, but, um, can you show me?" she asked, blinfold giving her the courage she normally lacked.
He could not believe he had standing in front of him, bare-chested, blindfolded and oh so innocent. This sight was awakening parts of him he did not know existed. At that point, he was hard as a rock.
"Yeah, I guess I could do that. But, you should probably lie down," he suggested and took her hand in his, leading her slowly to her bed. She could already feel the fire of his touch when he touched her shoulder. Lando shamelessly watched her nipples harden once he did. The blindfold was a miracle.
He laid her down on her back and popped himself up on his elbows on her left side. Now that they were on the bed, he started to feel more at ease and all of it felt less wrong. She couldn't see him, but his warmth radiated on her naked chest and his intoxicating cologne hit her nose once he put her down.
What she couldn't see was the way he smiled softly at the sights in front of him, taking his time to create as much imagery in his memory as possible. She shivered with cold.
"You should start, I'm getting cold," she said impatiently.
"Anything you want, baby" he replied absentmindedly, not noticing the way he addressed her. The word would ring in her ears for days on. Lando completely forgot what game he was suppose to play. His brain left the conversation a while ago and he was fully focused on the picture in front if him. He had lying down and waiting for his touch.
He started with her left nipple, lightly, feathery, almost non existent touch. His eyes were flashing between watching her chest rise up and down and her face. She bit her lower lip, as if she was trying to hide the way it affected her. He couldn't help but smile and lick his lips. He began tracing little figured of eight on the top of her nipple and when he was sure he got her sensitive enough, he pinched her for the first time. A soft, surprised sigh escaped her mouth. He did not have think about his actions at all, it was all so natural and easy. He pinched her nipple once again, harder this time, before he moved onto cupping her breast and giving it a squeeze, while watching her attentively. She pulled her head back a bit and he knew he had her. Afraid to speak, he continued to squeeze her and then traced her up and down, making sure not to miss her nipple anytime he did.
"The other one," she whispered so quietly he nearly missed it. But he didn't. With a smirk, he kept his hand on her left nipple, and reached over to her right breast. All of the adrenaline hitting up, he leaned over and when his mouth was almost touching her, then carefully licked her nipple. He watched her, half expecting her to freak out and send him away. To his satisfaction, she flinched in a way he never saw he before. There was something sensual, primal about the way air exited her mouth. Still blindfolded, she had no idea his eyes were glued on her face. If they weren't, he'd probably miss out on her soft "More...". He started kissing and gently biting the rest of her boobs, painting pictures with red bruises. She arched up a bit, as if her body was trying to get closer to him. First moan escaped her lips like a shy whisper. The rest that followed were unfiltered, mindless proof that she was fully in the moment. He got more and more excited, his cock hard as a rock, begging to get released. But he was afraid anything more would cause her to back off. So he continued with this actions, switching up between her nipples, breasts and sometimes roamed over to the neck. To get carried away was the easiest thing ever. As he tasted her skin, he got intoxicated. She surprised him when her hands reached out to his own body, done playing the passenger and joining on action. First she ran her fingers through his hair, pushing him more to her chest and then her soft fingers reached over to his shirt, movement suggesting to pull it off. This sort of woke him up back again. He pulled his shirt off and watched her smile when she noticed his bare chest.
"Now we're even," she commented and with no shame touched all around his muscles. A small alarm was going off in Lando's head. He was enjoying this a little too much. The realization that the line that got crossed was out of sight at that point hit him. So he chose to try and get even further. He leaned over to her face and licked the line of neck, stopping right at her ears. Then he bit her earlobe before wetting it with his tongue and blowing lightly on it. The shivers again. He could watch that all day. She melted into his embrace, arching towards him once again. Lando placed slow kisses on her cheek, one by one, until he got so close to her lips he could feel her breath mixing with his own. He hovered, prolonging this moment, the last seconds before it inevitably all fell down. Her chest was rising up and down rapidly. "Do it," she whispered, their lips almost touching accidentally. He waited for few moments, biting his own lip while wishing it was hers. "Not like this," he said, catching her off guard. Before she had a chance to respond, he reached over to her blindfold and removed it. Their eyes met for what felt like the first time. He saw high, excitement and a hint of fear, as she adjusted to the light and to the sight of him being so close. Reality check.
"Can I kiss you now?" he pleaded softly, staring at her, desperate for her answer.
It was all very different and very much real when she could see him. She gulped before taking the leap, falling into the trap that were his incredibly blueish green eyes.
"Yes."
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jellybonbons · 7 months ago
Text
Playground Love
ೀ older!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader
Tags: hurt/comfort, age gap (unspecified but reader is an adult), a lot of self doubt, talks about mommy and daddy issues, pet names (angel, princess, sweetheart).
W/C: 1.0k
A/N: studying? who is that? Anyways, this was supposed to be a cute ‘sitting on his lap would fix me’ but I got hit by existential crisis at 2am so angst.
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"Wow, dating an older guy? That's so sophisticated!"
“Are you sure about this? Don’t you think there’s a reason why no one his age is dating him?”
"You get to date someone older? That's not fair! All I get are immature guys my age."
"Darling, I know you're an adult now, but dating someone significantly older... it just worries me. Are you sure you're on the same page?"
I love him.
At every reaction, you find yourself repeating the same phrase in your mind. It was a simple truth that anchored you amidst the swirl of opinions and doubts. Every concern, every envy—you faced them all with the same unwavering declaration.
But do you really love him?
The question lingered like a shadow, casting doubt on the certainty you had clung to so desperately. You couldn't shake the nagging feeling that perhaps you were merely caught up in the allure of dating someone older, mistaking infatuation for love. Or was it that you longed for attention from an older guy who could fill the void your absent father left?
You craved the paternal presence you had been denied, and in him, you found echoes of the guidance and affection you had longed for. 
"Dating someone older? Isn't that a bit... strange?"
"Why? Age is just a number, right?"
"Yeah, but... do you really think you're at the same stage in life?"
Oh, how naively optimistic you were. 
Perhaps you have been too quick to dismiss your loved one’s concerns, too eager to embrace the illusion of love in the arms of someone—his arms—who offered the fleeting promise of stability and security. 
“But he makes me feel loved and safe,”
“Does he?”
Was your love truly built to withstand the test of time, or was it merely a fleeting illusion, destined to crumble beneath the weight of your differences?
“Darling, can we talk for a moment?”
“Sure, Ma. What’s on your mind?”
"Well, I couldn't help but notice... you seem quite taken with this new guy you're seeing."
"Oh, you mean Leon? Yeah, we've been spending some time together."
"He's... older, isn't he?"
"Um, yeah, he is."
"I see... darling, I just want to make sure you're being careful. Dating someone older can bring its own set of challenges."
"I know, Ma. But he's different. He understands me in a way no one else does."
"I'm sure he does, dear…but promise me you'll take things slow and really get to know him before things get too serious."
"I promise, Mama.”
You've broken many promises with your mama, but why did this one hurt? Is it because you partially blame her for shaping you the way you are? Is it because she married your father? Maybe she would have lived a happier life if it weren't for him, if only.
But you thanked her, both her and him, for the lesson learned, for the wisdom imparted, for the love that had always been there, and for helping you recognise the kind of partner to avoid. 
You stood before the polished wooden door of Leon’s home office, your hand hovering in uncertainty over the ornate doorknob. Each second felt like an eternity as you battled with the torrent of doubts and fears that raged within you. 
You needed him, wanted him to hold you, and tell you that everything would be fine.
But what if he couldn’t understand your doubts? What if your confession shattered the fragile illusion of your love?
With a steady breath, you pushed aside your apprehensions and grasped the doorknob, steeling yourself for the conversation that lay ahead.
“What’s up, sweetheart?” His voice, gruff yet soft and reassuring, always managed to send shivers down your spine, freezing you in place. You couldn’t find the words to speak, and your throat suddenly dried.
Sensing your hesitation, he beckoned you closer with a gentle smile. You could see the experiences he went through, the complexities of adulthood etched into the lines that creased his weathered face.
“Come here, angel. Sit on my lap while I work.”
You obeyed, crossing the threshold into his office, your feet padding on the wooden floor as you made your way to him. Settling onto his lap, your linen dress pooled around you, the fabric soft against your skin. His arms encircled your waist, pulling you close, his rough touch sent warmth flooding through your veins.
You inhaled his scent, a mixture of citrus and wood, with a hint of something familiar: whisky. You thought he quit. Ready to question him, you opened your mouth, but he stopped you before you could question him.
“Don’t worry your pretty head, princess. I only drank a glass, I promised. I’m just a bit stressed.” 
“Mm, okay,” you replied, pushing aside your concerns for the moment as you melted into the warmth of his embrace.
You found solace in the familiar embrace of Leon's arms, the weight of your doubts momentarily forgotten as you leaned into his chest, burying your face against him. A few of his buttons were undone, allowing the soft hairs on his chest to brush against your face. 
"Is everything alright, angel?" Leon's voice, soft and concerned, pulled you back to the present moment.
"Yeah, everything's fine. I just want to stay like this, with you," you murmured, the words slipping out before you could second-guess yourself.
His arms tightened around you, drawing you closer, as if he could sense the hesitation in your voice. "Me too, princess. Me too," his stubble pricked your forehead as he murmured against them.
Oh, how weak you were. His voice and touch alone melted you into a puddle, and all your problems seemed to vanish in his embrace. Your mama wouldn’t be happy with how you turned out; she wished that you would never let a man make you weak like she was.
Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to sink deeper into his embrace, letting go of the weight of your doubts and worries. In this moment, all that mattered was the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against yours.
Perhaps one day, when the time was right, you would find the courage to open up to him about your inner struggles. Until then, you cherished this moment, clawing in the warmth of his love.
Pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, Leon whispered softly, "I love you, angel.”
“I love you, too, Leon, always,” you replied. The words were a vow of unwavering devotion and love…was it really?
All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does, and that is his.       
- Oscar Wilde
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theyluvlyss · 3 months ago
Note
age gap😃? NOTHING CRAZY, CHILL, but yk, like,,, just a little young thing in her 20s or sumn being scooped up by one (or two🤭) of these older, more mature, aged like fine wine, and experienced men,,, that's all🥰.
I am thirsting so hard for remy after watching the movie… with this I can just imagine a young yet powerful mutant coming to the void and she never got the experience in sex in her timeline. So remy takes it upon himself to teach her the ways of the bedroom… first time may have involved a mistake with her powers when she cums for the first time but he’s so understandable and says like “you need to practice your control mon cherie” so he just dives back in for more (he makes her cum like 5-7 times from head alone cause he makes his woman feel amazing I bet) this is so long sorry hope you like this 😅🩷
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𝐇𝐅𝐉𝐒𝐊𝐂𝐈𝐉𝐆𝐊𝐆𝐏𝐋𝐆𝐈𝐄𝐊𝐆𝐎𝐄𝐈𝐈𝐅𝐊𝐖𝐋𝐄𝐉𝐆 !!!!!
first of all,,, never apologize for length, especially to me who makes everything way longer than need be, we (I, it's just me, idk who "we" is lol) love and appreciate that shit over here. ppl who love absurdly long fics, requests, and other media unite✊🏽 !!!
second of all,,, *ugly sobbing* I'm always the writer and never (how does one actually say this properly🤔?) the writee, so for someone to have actually dropped this for me in my inbox is SO flattering and sweet and ughghfhf, you guys, I HIGHLY encourage more of this, I love it, I truly do.
third of all,,, THIS IS SO GOOD omg literally giggling and kicking my feet (I do that a lot on this app) !!! I am the same way, I saw gambit and just... idk what happened to me, something in my organic chemistry just altered forever and while I'm not and will probably never be a channing tatum girly, he did his goddamn JOB in that role, ATE IT TF UP👏🏽 (and I knew he would, it's about damn time like c'mon, he'd been promised the role for idk a decade or so like, again I say, about damn time) so while I might not be all over tatum, I am all over his portrayal of remy lebeau and I need more fics/content NEOOOWW😾 (plz😽) from y'all's little writer brains of yours.
anyways, onto what you've sent in specifically lmao, you said "young yet powerful mutant" and "mistake with her powers" and "...practice your control..." and for whatever reason, my brain conjured up a mutant reader with wings or just a power that involves maybe floating/telekinesis...😃✋🏽hear me out...
so, remy's getting busy, right, and he's making reader feel so good and, like you mentioned, she ain't got much control over her powers yet cuz she's younger than him, so she cvms and boom, her wings (whether they be feathered or fairy) just pop out without her realizing😻. or with telekinesis, the better she's feeling/closer she's getting, the more stuff/higher she's causing things around them to float because again, little and/or loss of control because he's making her feel that good (we all know he's got the tongue work of a god, I mean, just listen to the man speak for fuck's sake lmao🥴).
I think it'd definitely be a cute touch and fs something she'd get teased about from remy lmao.
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lessi-lover · 4 months ago
Text
don't break me when i let you in II barcelona femení x teen!reader
warnings: mention of suicide, implied self harm, self hate, spanish federation.
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this is the longest i've ever written and i'm so proud thank you all for sending ideas to help me keep this draft alive x
don't break me when i let you in II barcelona femení x teen!reader
"you don't have to be strong all the time, you know?" it was an ignorant affair to believe, something only somebody with a slight sliver of saved up hope might trust. not you. not the broken shell of a person that can only believe you are the only thing keeping yourself together.
the glue to a cracked vase. in which the vase was you and you were slowly breaking under pressure that had been following you for years. if you hadn't hit rock bottom a couple months ago, you were certainly scraping the edge with your bare teeth now.
you had been one of their strongest forwards available to select from. a top forward in your league, it would be silly for them not to call you up with the titles next to your name at such a young age. it was inevitable that you would be called up for the world cup squad selection and there was nothing you could have done about it even if you tried.
you were just so helpless weren't you?
there was nobody to tell that you didn't want to travel to australia to play for a team that had ripped you inside out before you were even first national tournament debut, nobody that would understand how badly you wanted to represent your country and how willing you were to put your body on the line for it even for a single minute in spanish colours.
is that why you stayed quiet?
you stared towards yourself in the mirror, wondering if maybe your eyes had ever truly been as light as they used to tell you. that the light in your eyes you had been promised was always there had just seemingly disappeared. the eyes that they still talk about that seem so foreign to you now as you look back at yourself through shattered glass. wondering if maybe it was all just a lie.
maybe it was all just a lie.
a black and white faceless lie that everything you would go through for a ruthless tournament was for the better of you. or worse. a binary promise that everything would be okay, that all the suffering would end in good for you. or not.
but you look back through the same eyes that you were meant to be able to trust, the eyes that let everything just happen without looking back, and you still don't understand how you could be so easily deceived, taken apart from top to bottom like a neglected toy.
a useless, discardable toy. was it all a lie?
maybe the people who were meant to protect you and care for you were actually abusing you to wits' ends. maybe it wasn't that you needed the further training they made you endure after your previous training, but that you were so young and fresh and all too easy to manipulate.
maybe it was those you trusted and who sent you away with the assurance that you would be the next spanish legacy that isolated you from the world and treated you as a vessel to secure gold for spain.
but you were to blind and powerless to seek help.
you had been the silent one. the one too shattered to even bear the trial that came with the aftermath of the events following your world cup win. you knew the federation would come after you. you were the one who wanted so badly to sign the document that your teammates had but you couldn't bring yourself to look at the people who had broken you from the inside out for even just a second to speak your mind.
you were just a shell of a once strong force now weren't you?
you knew they would try and rip away each and every title you had ever worked for and your playing rights along with it. you were a world cup, champions league, copa de la reina, nations league and liga f winner. but maybe you were just a vulnerable, small cog in a relentless system that wouldn't stop until you broke down and they would throw you away like the others.
the fear of losing everything you had worked for since you were a small child paralyzed you for months. the mere thought of speaking out, of seeking help, seemed as impossible as how you got into the situation in the first place.
the federation had an iron grip on your life, they could control you whether you were defenseless to it or not and any caught wind of saying something felt like signing your own demise.
it would end you surely? don't you think that maybe speaking out for help would become the end of your career? one that had barely started as you were only freshly twenty years old? staying quiet was the better option. you had thought you could escape unscathed, but your reality was far from it.
nobody had your best interest and those who did didn't make it clear enough until you finally broke down from the denied pressure. it felt like a void sometimes. as if you were screaming and nobody could hear you, or maybe nobody cared?
no they care. didn't they?
did they care when you were forced out of bed early in the morning to complete extra practice before the day even started? did they care when you were just a young teenager illegally moving up into the senior divisions of international football to cover for seniors who had denied their call up's and was made to exhaust your body more than you ever should? did they care when the private meetings you were obligated to attend turned into time to yell at you, to break you down as if you hadn't given your entire life to the federation.
but then again, if not football what else did you have to live for?
you asked yourself these questions over and over again. each time just hoping that the harsh reminder of your situation would lessen. it never did. it never would. it would be stuck with you no matter how hard you tried to block it out, no matter how hard you tried to ignore who and what made you shrink a million times over.
the fear, the abuse, the meal plans, the body exhaustion, the denied freedom, the stolen happiness, a cruel reminder of the bottomless hole you had found yourself falling deeper and deeper and there was nothing you could do to get out.
you were truly and utterly stuck.
~
the office is cold, its white walls a stark contrast to the warmth in the hallway you had been waiting in for the past half hour. the thick carpet muffles your footsteps as you walk toward the large desk in the center of the room, the air you're walking into a harsh wind of tension that couldn't be cut with a blade if you tried.
you swallow hard, your throat dry despite the countless bottles of water you’ve consumed throughout the day. but your hydration doesn't matter now, whatever it said to you in the next twenty minutes does.
the glare of the desk lamp catches your eye, reflecting the same harsh light that seems to spotlight you everywhere, waiting for you to make your next mistake. you glance at the stern faces of the officials seated behind the desk, their expressions unreadable as they read through what looks like your performance reports.
“please, take a seat,” the head of the federation says, his voice clipped as he places his hand predatorily on your lower back and guides you to sit down. you lower yourself into the chair, the thin material of your club shorts rubbing uncomfortably against the velvet furniture.
the head official adjusts his collar, peering over them at you with a sharp look almost as though you had done something to personally offend him. but those aren't anything close to his next words.
“you’ve been doing exceptionally well, tesoro.” he begins, but his tone is far from genuine and you feel that something else is coming. “your performance has been impressive, especially considering your age and the closeness of the tournament.”
you nod, though his praise feels hollow, almost as if you're falling into a set trap made just for you. your heart races and you grip your hands on the chair. you want to speak up, to voice your concerns about the overwhelming training schedules and the strain it’s putting on your body, but the words get lost in your throat.
“we’ve decided to integrate you into the senior squad for the upcoming world cup. it’s a great opportunity, but it also means you’ll need to do far more than what you're currently putting in.”
your chest tightens. you’ve been waiting for this for a long time, but when he finally tells you it feels overwhelming and you don't understand why a moment you have been prepping for years of your life makes you feel uneasy. you push it off as nerves.
the world cup is a chance to showcase your skills on a global stage, this is your moment, don't stare it in the face and back down.
another official at the side of the room glances at you with a fleeting look of concern before turning back to his notes. he seems to recognize the strain you’re currently feeling, but his words are lost just like yours as the head continues to talk to you.
“your development is crucial to our success,” the head official says, his voice cutting through your thoughts. “we expect you to handle this responsibility with the utmost professionalism. this is an opportunity for you to prove yourself and secure your place on the national team.”
"and who knows, i have spots emptied by débiles that need filling. this is your shot don't blow it. tesoro." there is something about the way he talks to you and speaks about you over your head that makes you shiver right down to your core.
you nod again, feeling the weight of their words drop into the palm of your hand and the room seems to close in on you as they continue discussing your role to each other and the intense training you will need to undergo in the upcoming months.
the meeting ends with a firm handshake and a curt nod from yourself and as you leave the office, the clear expectations settle heavily on your shoulders, the fear of failing and the pressure to succeed feeling almost insurmountable. yourself unaware of the danger you have just put yourself in.
~
you're not even sure when it all started. you can't pinpoint when the abuse started, if you could even call it that, or if it was there the whole time and you normalised it for yourself because that was the better option instead of speaking out in your mind.
it was enough of the lack of players available that caused them to attempt to burn you out as much as they could. it was enough for the federation to take one look at you and decide that the weight of the world relied on your shoulder whether you liked it or not.
that was your purpose. it was your job to lead the team to victory without a second mistake. without a setback, through injury, responsible for the good and the bad, amidst an internal battle with yourself that was dragging you down, and most importantly with a smile on your face even if you were shattered from the inside.
a smile on your face. nobody would notice would they?
~
“siéntate, tesoro,” he commands, his tone carrying an edge of impatience and you feel yourself move quickly into his office at his voice. you sink into the chair, its firm surface a harsh contrast to how had felt in the chair only mere months ago.
“you’re here because you’ve been selected for the world cup squad,” he begins, his voice cold and he digs his hand into the desk as he leans close to you. “but let’s be clear, tesoro. being selected was only the first challenge. we expect more from you.”
you nod, but the weight of his words feel heavy and you can't help but notice that the official who had given you the sorry look was missing from his spot behind the desk.
“we’ve noticed that you’re not quite fitting the ideal player we had in mind,” he continues, and you shake off any thoughts of the past official when your eyes meet his. “you’re not fast enough, not agile enough. you’re not meeting the physical standards we expect from you.”
his words sting, each critique like a hard blow to your self-esteem that wasn't really there in the first place. “your performance has been adequate,” he says, “but adequate isn’t enough. we need you to be exceptional and above all competition. and right now, you’re neither of those.”
he leans forward, his breath fanning over you as you look down at the floor in fear. “your weight is one concern of our team, but it’s not just about being heavier or lighter. it’s about how you present yourself. we need you to be leaner, faster and even more dynamic. you’re not the perfect image we want for the team right now.”
the room seems to close in around you as he continues. “we’ve seen some players who didn’t meet our expectations and they were dropped. you need to understand that if you don’t shape up, you will be next to not enter through doors again. comprendido?"
he gestures to a pile of strawn documents on his desk and you look up from the concrete fall at the harsh snap of his fingers in your face.
“we have reports here, tesoro, that detail everything we need from you. and it’s not just about physical performance. it’s about how you look, how you’re perceived by the public. you need to be more endearing, more marketable. if you can’t fulfill that role, then we'll find another.”
his gaze is relentless and he talks to you like you're a faceless object that he can discard at his will, throw away when he feels you're not complying with his demands. he can take you off this squad the moment you defend yourself.
“you’re not here just to play; you’re here to be the face of the team. the face of spain. and right now, you’re not cutting it for us. we need you to be a star, not just another player in this tournament. and if you’re not willing to meet those expectations, then you’re in the wrong place i'm afraid.”
“now, we’re going to do something,” he continued, his voice carrying a coldness that made your stomach curl inwards as you sat fearfully in your chair. “i need you to repeat after me. ‘i am not good enough. i need to be better."
you hesitate, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak as you blinked harshly to try and to stop the tears that threatened to fall. “i am not good enough. i need to be better,” you say quietly, looking down shamefully at the floor like a small child being scolded by their parent.
“louder.” he demands, his voice cutting through the room like a whip and you try not to flinch at the volume of his words. “i need to hear you say it with conviction. you are lying through your teeth pequeña. don't lie to me, i hate liars."
“again,” he insists. “and this time, say it as if you truly believe it. i am not good enough. i need to be better." you force yourself to repeat the phrase, the words make you feel as if you're stripping away everything you ever built yourself to believe. every title, every trophy, every medal, every goal. erased.
“i am not good enough. i need to be better,” you say louder, the humiliation of his cruel exercise making your stomach lurch and you struggled to keep yourself together.
“very good,” the official says, his tone carrying a note of being pleased and you hated that you loved the feeling of his approval. “you should understand that just because you’re going to australia doesn’t mean you get to enjoy it. you’re there for work, not to have fun.”
his manipulation is chilling to the bone, designed to strip away any sense of accomplishment you had ever felt. “you’re not meant to enjoy australia, it’s not a vacation. you’re there to prove yourself, not to sightsee. you need to focus solely on the tournament, on meeting the expectations we’ve set for you. or we won't hesitate to send you home.”
“this is a serious commitment. if you let yourself get distracted, you’re failing in your duty. you’re expected to perform at your peak, and that means putting aside any thoughts of leisure or enjoyment. this isn’t about you enjoying yourself; it’s about you meeting the standards we've set for you.”
“if you allow yourself to get comfortable or take things lightly,” he warns, “you’re showing weakness. and weakness is unacceptable. you need to stay sharp, stay focused, and remember why you’re here.”
his manipulation is subtle yet even then you could tell that he knew you wouldn't fight back, he had designed it to make you feel guilty for even considering enjoying the tournament.
“this is a test of your worth,” he says. “if you can’t handle the pressure and keep your focus, you’re not fit for the team. we need you performing to the highest standards that we expect from everybody else. including you. if you can’t handle the pressure, then you’re not worthy of the position. we expect you to rise to the challenge without complaint.”
~
you were far too gone to allow somebody else to take your spot. guilty and far too gone to let yourself slip through the cracks you had been told others had fallen through. somebody wouldn't be able to deal with the kind of pain you had been trained to believe as normal.
somebody else definitely wasn't as strong as the fake front you had built up to deal with it all, or at least that's what you told yourself, it made you feel better even if you didn't believe it.
you felt like nothing.
was it the pressure? was it the memories? was it the unhealable bruises that littered you from head to toe? or was it the feeling that you gave your whole existence to people who threw you away like you were just dirt on the bottom of a shoe?
you were numb.
you couldn't even remember the last time you had felt truly happy, truly yourself. the facade of a charming female footballer you put on for the world was crumbling and you were scared that people would finally see the pain that lied underneath.
the mirror showed a person trapped between who they once were and the brokenness of who they had become, drowning in a sea of your own helplessness.
you wondered if there was any way back to the person you used to be, or if that person was gone forever, if she had fallen through but ignored by who you had been built to be. this is what rock bottom feels like. rock bottom is not knowing who you are anymore, not recognising any of the memories of the person you were before.
it's the lostness of knowing that you can't find yourself again, seeing your old self in the distance but not knowing how to reach it with the strength you so clearly do not have.
it's the painful acknowledgement that the once vibrant and full of life person who was here before has been replaced by a shadow and you're struggling to fight the dark.
had the darkness swallowed you yet?
your phone rings loudly in your ear. it's more harsh this time than the previous sounds that had escaped the device. you know who's calling you because there wasn't exactly anybody in your life that would reach out to you so religiously and determindly.
you bit down on your lip. a similar memory of you lying on the floor answering the man who had made you the emotionless person that couldn't bear to even think about the game you used to live for.
you miss the person you were. that man gutted her from the inside.
the sound pierces into the thick silence of the room, demanding you to answer as it broke through the barrier of quiet you had built up. the screen of your phone lights up and you let your eyes flicker down towards it, your phone displaying the name of the person you dreaded to see you how you are now.
a feeling you couldn't quite place as dread or relief washed over you as your phone vibrated against the cold floor. dark purple bruises forming on your legs and arms from the time you had spent laying on the bathroom floor.
you slowly reach for your phone, drops of blood dripping off your skin and onto the glass as tears make their way down your face from the dark circles that countless nights of lost sleep had created for you.
your fingers tremble as you swipe to answer the call as if they are carrying the burden you've been feeling for months, and the screen lights up with the caller's name again. you can't turn back now, you've answered the one person you would hate to see you like this.
you contemplate hanging up the phone, staying silent on your end of the call as if magically the situation would disappear and you could leave like you so badly wanted to.
you sound nothing like the person you were a year ago.
"hola amorcito. are you there?" the voice on the other end of the line breaks through your thoughts, the term of endearment so familiar yet painful almost making you burst into another set of tears but you stay strong for her because that's what he would have wanted.
"ale?" you reply, your voice steady but still shaking as you lift your phone to your ear to hear better. "i'm here." there's a soft sigh on alexia's side of the phone and you can almost picture her sitting with her girlfriend on the couch, the older woman had tried to call you throughout the week but you hadn't answered and she'd been waiting for you to call her back.
"you don't have to be strong all the time, you know?"
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child-of-the-danube · 20 days ago
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I'm still in my Lilia brain rot era and I keep thinking about her and Agatha, and their dynamic and parallels.
Like, Agatha is a dick to everyone from the start, even Teen, but she's extremely chill and even, for her being who she is, weirdly respectful towards Lilia. Maybe it's because of the age, maybe it's because Lilia was the only one to show she still had true power when they first met, maybe it's because they share experience and persecution the younger ones don't truly understand, maybe Agatha just has a soft spot for those who are very clearly outcasts and weirdos.
The only sting at Lilia I can recall is calling her "Dory" in the last trial lmao
She never once questions or mocks her gaps. Hell, she said "we came to the right place" AFTER she saw Lilia scream her head off in ep2 over, to them, nothing. "Hmm, this bitch a lil bonkers, but that's exactly what I like and need :)"
She told Lilia that she couldn't take her power unless she's blasted with it - something she was certainly aiming for if the door didn't open and that ended up saving them in ep2 when she was using her ye old technique of being a menace. She may have told it to her only to get her in, but that's a big minus to her plan B.
When everyone had their hallucinations, Agatha didn't mock Lilia when she was, once again, "being weird". She believed her and reassured her in a soft tone that it was ok.
One interaction I found really funny is in ep3 when Teen asks about a sous vide machine and Agatha turns to Lilia with that "What the fuck is that? That wasn't around in our time" look
Usually when one of them starts spewing wisdom, someone will give a snarky remark, usually Agatha, but when they were talking about summoning a new green witch, Agatha let Lilia speak and was the only one who, at least somewhat, listened to her advice (50/50 but still haha). It was Lilia after all who was the first one to, tho reluctantly, agree to Agatha's idea of summoning a back up green witch.
Also the way Agatha looks at Lilia when she calls Jen out for giving Sharon only one dose of antidote when she had two glasses of wine. It's just so "mmm 😈 I like this one"
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Agatha's first choice for "who could possibly play piano" wasn't Alice. Ya know the daughter of a rock goddess who would be the most logical choice. It was Lilia and I find that sweet and a lil funny too.
Lilia didn't tell Agatha's Salem story with judgement, even if she said "when Agatha killed her original coven". It was delivered as mere fact to explain the story.
Then when Evanora showed up and Lilia looks angry and almost disgusted at what she's hearing her say to Agatha. Even after Alice's death, she didn't jump on Agatha's back and accuse her. She let her be cause she was clearly distraught.
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Agatha "I'm not drinking the poison. You can suffer but I won't!" Harkness jumped on Lilia and covered her with her own body in the latest episode when the sword was about to impale her. And then she let her do her magic even if it didn't seem to work as the ceiling was still falling and even if she thought tarot was bullshit. She trusted she knew what she was doing.
And the look they give eachother when Lilia reveals Rio is Death. Lilia's face reads as terrified, but more than terrified, she seems to have a moment of compassion. It's the look of "How deeply fucked must your life have been that the only one that ever showed you love and kindness is the one who everyone else sees as the bringer of pain?". Death broke Lilia's heart many a time, but in that moment she understood, she broke Agatha's heart too in even worse ways.
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AGATHA LIKED HER! SHE LIKED HER FROM THE START AND RESPECTED HER! AND LILIA LIKED HER TOO, DESPITE THE INITIAL SUSPICIONS!!!
I need to know what her reaction to finding out Lilia sacrificed herself to kill the threat that was specifically after her will be. Will she brush it off and pretend she doesn't care to keep appearing stern and emotionless or will this be the thing that finally makes her realise people care for her? Cause Agatha has never had anyone, except literal Death, show her kindness, much less sacrifice themselves so she could keep living. And I find it beautifully poetic that the one other person Death has known well for centuries, who Death has acknowledged by name in that coven, was the one to do that.
Again, I'm aware that this is just my brain rot speaking, but Lilia was truly the MVP. She's the one with wisdom, the biggest experience, the one with seemingly most patience, the hype man ("Jennifer, look what you did", "It was all for you", "Don't worry, baby. We're cool"). Her trial is the only one where the rest was in fact not needed and was of no help. Actually, all they did was make it worse. The first three trials depended on teamwork. Lilia's was truly solvable ONLY by Lilia.
Anyways, Lilia mentally adopted Agatha and realised she truly was part of her coven and therefore worth dying for and I will never fucking recover 💔💔😭😭
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roosterforme · 8 months ago
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The Younger Kind Part 56 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: When Bradley finally gets word about a return date, he has no idea what he's about to walk into at home. You tried your best to take care of things by yourself, but your visit to the hospital shows you how much you need someone with you for physical help as well as emotional support.
Warnings: mentions of blood, pregnancy topics, hospitals, mentions of miscarriage, swearing, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4100 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
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You managed to get in the car even though Natasha was protesting. "What's wrong?" she asked at least a dozen times as she tried to call an ambulance for you. But you just told her you could drive yourself to the hospital to be checked out. You thought you said the word pregnant to her at some point, but you weren't really sure. Nothing was making very much sense right now. 
There was traffic on every road as dinnertime approached. Everyone else was going out for the night, perhaps for a family meal at a restaurant. You saw kids walking along the sidewalks with their parents, and you started crying. You didn't like leaving Noah to wake up from his nap with Natasha suddenly there instead of you. She would take care of him, of course, but it might confuse him. You didn't see what choice you had in the matter though, as your mind was flooding with worst case scenarios.
What was happening to the baby?
You sobbed as you ran through a yellow light to try to get there faster. What if it was already too late? You were educated enough to know that there were about a million different things that could be going on right now, and they ranged from innocuous to horrifying. Maybe you did something to cause some minor bleeding. Or maybe the baby was already gone.
"Please, no," you gasped as you parked at the hospital and walked quickly through the increasingly dreary weather to the emergency entrance. Your phone was vibrating in the pocket of your sweatpants as you headed right for the desk and blurted out, "I'm pregnant, and I'm bleeding."
The exhausted looking nurse looked up at you and said, "Please have a seat in the waiting area, and I'll come get you when I'm ready for you."
You blinked at her. "I'm bleeding," you repeated in a harsh whisper. "And I'm pregnant."
"Yes," she replied with a nod. "I'll be with you in just a minute."
You took a seat and cried, afraid to use the bathroom in the waiting area, terrified to see more blood when you wiped yourself. Anytime patients came to see Dr. Kelly, you made sure you took care of them right away, especially if they were bleeding or upset. You couldn't stand the tears that would well up in a child's eyes along with uncertainty and fear. 
But then you got it. It only took you a minute to understand that if there truly was something wrong with the baby, then there was nothing they would be able to do at this point.
Your phone was ringing again, and it was Natasha. As the nurse came to retrieve you from your seat, you texted her and let her know you made it to the hospital and to focus her attention on Noah. You were shaking again as the nurse took your temperature and blood pressure, and you wanted to scream at her to do something more than check your vitals. You needed an ultrasound. You needed a doctor. You needed someone to focus on why you were bleeding.
She handed you off to another nurse, and at least he smiled sympathetically at you and said, "We'll get you checked out in no time." But you could barely walk, and you felt his hand wrap around your bicep to keep you upright as he guided you into one of the many rooms in the emergency medicine corridor. "I'll get a doctor right in here, okay?"
His voice was calm, emulating what you tried to do at your own job, and he left you a gown to change into. Once he was gone, you put it on, afraid to check your underwear as you settled onto the narrow bed. The room smelled sterile, and the fluorescent lights were making you nauseous, but he was true to his word. You started counting to yourself, trying to keep track of how much time had passed without panicking, and a few minutes later, a doctor appeared in the doorway.
She spoke your name, and when you nodded, she introduced herself. "You're pregnant?" she asked you evenly as she reached for some latex gloves. She reminded you a bit of Dr. Kelly, and you immediately felt a little bit calmer. 
"Yes. About thirteen weeks along, and I just started bleeding like an hour ago." Your voice broke on your words, but you tried to keep it together. "I'm a pediatric nurse, so I'm not completely proficient in obstetrics, but can you give me an ultrasound and check? I need to know if the baby is okay."
"Lay back so I can see what's going on here." You did exactly as you were told as your heart pounded and panic rose within you. The baby was already so loved; you and Bradley were both looking forward to the due date. Sure, you'd been a little scared of the unknown, but the idea of miscarrying had you sick with worry. 
If Bradley were here right now, you knew you'd feel so much safer, but if the baby was gone, your preference would be to deal with this yourself. The disappointment on his face would be too much to bear. You'd rather never look at him again then have to see how sad he was going to be when you told him. If you had to tell him. 
You ran your thumb along the band of your engagement ring as the doctor gave you a quick examination. "Have you had vaginal intercourse in the last forty-eight hours?"
"N-No," you sputtered. "My fiancé is deployed. He's in Japan."
"Did you masturbate?"
You shook your head; you were so tired, you could barely clean up after dinner each day, let alone get yourself off. "No."
She pulled the gown down again and said, "It's most likely just your cervical tissue reacting to something, but let's get you taken back for an ultrasound to be sure."
"Thanks," you sobbed, letting your palm come to rest on your belly as you closed your eyes and tried to stay afloat in your own terrible thoughts. "I just want to know if I'm still pregnant."
------------------------
"Finally," Bradley muttered, running his fingers through his hair as he walked through the hangar with his helmet in his hand. Six weeks was a long time to be away from you right now. Too long, really. He had kind of fallen in love with flying Shadowhawk, but nothing compared to sharing a bed with you and reading bedtime stories to Noah. And he was itching to see the newest ultrasound photos.
He'd been confined to the Naval base at Yokosuka except for one day when the weather was too unsafe to let him fly. He took a short trip back into the city, chaperoned of course, but he was allowed to visit a bookstore. He ended up buying eight books for Noah and the baby, and he couldn't wait to show them to you. And he'd be able to do that soon, because he finally had a return date. If he did his math right, he'd be home in time to take Noah out to get candy on Halloween, as long as he wasn't delayed.
With just a few days left flying Shadowhawk, he really let the throttle tilt. He could hear Admiral Palmer warning him about his speed over the crystal clear comms, and he smiled before he responded. "Yes, sir. I'll ease off." But he didn't until he made a beautiful loop through the air. He was getting used to the ridiculous pressure on his body now, and when he got to San Diego and switched back to his Super Hornet, he was going to miss this feeling. He couldn't wait to try to describe it to you.
He knew what was coming. He was anticipating hours spent looking at his own flight data with the officers, but when the time came, he just felt antsy. The sixth-generation fighter had been moved back into the hangar for storage. He'd taken his last flight. His bags were packed, and he was ready to go home, but he had to pretend to be interested in what came next: at least fifty admirals sifting through data before anything would be determined. Bradley hoped these jets would eventually come to find a home with the US Navy, but it would be years from now if they did. He had done his part, and he wanted to be let loose again.
When he woke up on the day of his departure, he signed a final set of privacy forms before his phone was returned to him as he was ushered out to a car waiting to take him to the airport. He couldn't leave soon enough at this point. All he could picture was your face and Noah's, happy to see him home again. He could practically feel your body in his hands, and it was the only thing he wanted. 
Once he settled in for the short ride, he turned his phone on to find that he only had a tiny bit of battery left. Without even checking to see what time it was at home, he called you. He'd let his phone die talking to you right now if need be, and then he could charge it later. But you didn't answer. That was okay.
"Princess, I'm coming home. I'm on my way to the airport in Tokyo right now, and it's a ten hour flight. I think I'll be landing after midnight, so don't worry about getting Noah out of bed to come pick me up. I'll get an Uber or a taxi. I can't wait to see you, Baby. I love you."
He ended the call, and as soon as he started to investigate all of his missed text messages, the phone died. He was dropped off at the airport with barely half an hour to spare before his flight was scheduled to leave, and that's when he realized he didn't even have his phone charger with him. 
"Fuck," he muttered, rooting around in his bag but coming up with nothing. Maybe it got lost in his room in the barracks when he dumped his bag out? Maybe it was in his duffle which he checked at the airline desk. Regardless, he didn't have time to try to buy a new one, because his flight was already boarding by the time he found the gate. After questioning the flight attendants as to whether or not they had the type of charger he needed, he gave up hope, tossed his phone into his bag and tried to sleep for as much of the ten hour flight as he possibly could. He would be home with his family soon enough.
------------------------
You played the voicemail message from Bradley over and over again, but you could barely understand a word that he said. It sounded garbled and fuzzy, and it kept cutting out. He said something about being in Tokyo and something about Noah, and then he told you he loved you, but that's all you could figure out for sure.
"Can you understand what he's saying?" you asked softly, holding up the phone for Natasha to listen to it pretty much as soon as she walked through your front door in her uniform. "I've been trying to decipher this all day."
She took it from your hand and listened to it on speakerphone and then listened again with it pressed to her ear as she made a face. "Hang on," she muttered, playing it a third time. 
She'd been staying at the house with you since your overnight visit to the emergency room. She had essentially been doing everything for you and Noah so you barely had to lift a finger after work each day. You wouldn't have been able to do it on your own, but every time you tried to thank her, she told you it was no big deal and that Bradley was her best friend. You were afraid you were eating into her time with Javy, but she just rolled her eyes and said, "Hoes before bros."
She listened to the message one more time before she said, "It kind of sounds like he's coming home? And he's going to arrive after midnight? And he's getting an Uber from the airport?"
Your heart beat faster. "Do you think he means tonight?"
Noah came running into the living room with a coloring sheet in each hand and Skittles bounding after him. "Aunt Natasha!"
"Hey squirt," she said, picking him up and flying him around the room. She turned back to you and said, "Hopefully it means he'll be back tonight. Let's just leave the porch light on after dinner in case." Then she hauled Noah off to the kitchen where she started cooking while you took a shower. 
Dr. Kelly had immediately cut your hours back for which you were so thankful. She was very understanding when you talked to her. Tomorrow was Halloween, and it was Saturday. The plan was for Natasha to wear the costume you originally bought for Bradley, but if he arrived home tonight and was able to function tomorrow, maybe he'd want to go out to collect candy himself. You were just aching to see him at this point, and now your skin was tingling with the anticipation of him holding you.
After you ate, you tried to clean, but Natasha said, "I'll clean up after Noah's in bed." And then she sent you to the couch with a blanket while she and Noah took Skittles for a long walk down to the beach. You fell asleep there shortly after they left, and you weren't surprised that you ended up in your bed even before Noah was in his for the night. 
You let Natasha take care of everything while you tried to text Bradley again. You'd been trying all day, but he hadn't responded to a single one of them. You checked to see which flights were currently on their way from Tokyo to San Diego, and three of them were arriving late tonight. Honestly, the garbled voicemail had you on edge all day long, making you more exhausted than usual. You fell asleep hoping that he was on one of the flights and that he would be home soon.
And then you woke up to a loud voice coming from the living room. You jolted in bed, throwing the covers off of you in alarm before you realized that the voice was familiar.
"Princess? Baby, it's me! It's Bradley. I didn't want to scare you."
"Bradley," you gasped, jumping out of bed and grabbing at your nightstand until you could get your footing. "Bradley!" you called out a little louder.
"It's me, Baby," he answered. "Is Nat here? Why is her SUV in the driveway?"
You nearly collided with his best friend in the dark hallway, and when you both made it out to the dimly lit living room, you saw him standing there. Tears filled your eyes as you raced for him, and he picked you up into his arms and cradled you against his big body while Skittles whimpered at his feet.
"Daddy," you whispered, aware that Natasha was standing right behind you. "I missed you so much."
He kissed along your neck and your cheek and all of the parts of your face that he could reach as he said, "I love you. I love you so much. I missed you and Noah and the baby." He ran his nose along the shell of your ear and said, "Hey, Nat. What are you doing here? And why are you holding my mom's antique lamp?"
You turned to glance at her over your shoulder where she was indeed standing with the lamp in her hand at her side in her ratty old shirt and lounge pants. "I was making sure you were really you and not an intruder."
He laughed. "You were going to beat the shit out of me with a lamp?"
"Absolutely," she said with a yawn. "Welcome home." Then she turned and went back to the extra bedroom leaving the two of you alone.
Bradley's lips were on yours immediately, and even though you knew you had so much to tell him, you let yourself enjoy the indulgence of his kisses. You whimpered against his mouth and brushed your fingers softly through his hair. "I'm assuming we need to talk," he murmured. "You wanna tell me why she's here?"
You nodded and whispered, "Let's go to the bedroom."
He left his bags on the floor and carried you there immediately, setting you on the unmade bed and dropping down next to you. The room was pretty dark, and you curled up against his body, getting as close to him as you could. You inhaled his scent and soaked up his warmth, finally feeling better than you had in over a month. All of the fear seemed to wash away as he said, "I'm sorry I only left you that one message, but my phone died, and I can't find my charger. Nobody on my flight had the right one either, because apparently my phone is as ancient as I am."
You laughed softly. "I like vintage things, remember?"
"I do recall that," he replied easily. "Is tonight the first night Nat slept here?"
You took a deep breath and whispered, "No. She's been staying here for about a week to help out. Ever since I started... bleeding."
"Bleeding?" he echoed, his arm wrapping around you a little tighter as you nodded against his neck and tried to gather your thoughts. "Princess, what happened?"
His voice was alert and strong yet worried and cautious, and you told him, "I went to the bathroom last week, and when I wiped I was bleeding." His sharp intake of breath had you scrambling as you said, "The baby is okay."
"Are you okay?" he asked, gently rolling you onto your back to get a better look at your face. "Fuck. I should have never agreed to go away." He ran his big hand across your forehead and down your cheek. "Are you okay?"
"I'm okay," you promised as you cried for what seemed like the hundredth time. "I was just so scared," you admitted, your voice barely a squeak. "I was so scared the baby was gone."
You realized Bradley's fingertips were rubbing soothing circles against your side as he whispered, "I'm sorry I left. I'm so sorry I wasn't here to take care of everything. Please, tell me what happened. Tell me everything."
--------------------------
Bradley got you cuddled under the covers, and he turned the lamp on so he could better see your face. You looked beautiful if not exhausted, and he was so grateful for his best friend being there for you. "I guess I overdid it a little bit," you admitted. "I took some extra hours at work and started getting the bedroom ready for the baby. I just wanted the weeks to pass quickly, you know? When I started bleeding, I called Natasha, and she came right over. She's basically been here since then."
He kissed your nose. "What did the doctors do?"
You closed your eyes and whispered, "They checked me over. Every inch. And they found that I needed progesterone shots. They caught it just in time, so maybe it was good that I ended up there."
Bradley felt like an idiot, but it didn't matter as long as you were okay. "What's the progesterone for exactly?"
You smiled as you snuggled closer to him. "It'll make my uterus better for the baby. Safer. The injections are pretty common, and I only need to get them a few more times. But I'm tired of all the needles, and now I can kind of understand how some of my own patients feel."
Bradley laced his finger with yours and asked, "And you're sure you're okay? Perfectly safe and healthy?"
"Yes. The baby is, too."
He kissed your forehead as he realized he was crying. "Just as long as you're okay, Princess. I love you." You nodded as you fell asleep, and he knew how badly you needed to rest. After he turned the light off, he held you against his chest and tried to make sense of everything. 
You and the baby were okay. Your doctor and the staff from the emergency room were monitoring your blood work every week now. You were getting injections in your thigh which were making your leg sore and bruised, but it was helping the baby. As much as he'd loved flying Shadowhawk, he regretted his time away from home a little bit more now.
When you rolled away from him around six o'clock, he had barely slept. Carefully, he extracted himself from the bed, and Skittles came trotting right over to him. He picked her up and straightened out the wrinkled clothing he had been wearing for way too long, but when he walked out to his kitchen, he found Nat was already there. She turned to face him as Skittles started licking his face, and he walked right into her arms for a hug.
"Thank you," he whispered, letting her hold him while he cried. "Is she really okay? She told me she's fine."
She rubbed his back and said, "Mostly. I think. She is stubborn, Bradley. When I got here, she drove herself to the emergency room before I even had a full grasp of the fact that she was pregnant. She told me to stay with Noah until she came home, and when I told her I'd get Javy to come stay here while I met her at the hospital, she yelled at me."
"That tracks," he said softly. He thought about how you stood up for him and Noah and fought alongside him for custody. Even after you got hurt. Even after he hurt you. 
"She was terrified that you'd be upset about a potential miscarriage."
Bradley felt like she slapped him in the face. "Shit," he grunted as she released him from the hug. It wasn't like that kind of thing could usually be prevented. He would have been sad, yeah, but only because he was so excited. He wouldn't have been upset with you though. Not at all. "I'll talk to her more about that when she wakes up." He scratched his head and set Skittles down. "Did you clean my kitchen?"
"Yes," she replied evenly as she switched on the coffee maker. "And if you try to thank me for anything I did, I swear to god, I will fucking key your Bronco. I did it for her, because she needed help."
He caught himself before he could thank her again, too afraid to find out if she was telling the truth. She probably was. "I'll make sure she's getting all the rest she needs. She will not be lifting a finger around here."
"That's what I like to hear," she said, patting him on the chest. "Now, I'm going to take one of your travel mugs full of your overpriced coffee from your fancy machine and head back to my place. I'll call you later, and I'll stop by tonight to hand out candy to your trick-or-treaters while you take Noah around the neighborhood."
"Shit, I guess I need to go out and buy candy and costumes and everything."
As her coffee brewed, Nat said, "It's all been taken care of. The bags of candy are on top of the fridge."
Bradley glanced in that direction and said, "You have to let me repay you, Nat."
She grabbed the travel mug and pulled her keys out of her pocket, brandishing them in his face. "Fuck around and find out, Bradshaw. You will not thank me, and you will not pay me back. You'll just let me come over and play with Noah at least once a week now while you take care of your wife-to-be. Those are my terms. Have a nice day."
"Okay," he called out, following her to the door to make sure her key went directly into her own ignition where it belonged. Then he got to work, pulling up some recipes on his phone; he was going to attempt to be the best dad and almost husband in the entire world, because that's what his family needed. 
------------------------
If you have been through any of this kind of shit like I have, I'm sending you a hug. It's stressful and scary, and not something you should have to deal with alone. Bradley is home and ready to be the absolute best. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 57
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drakoneve · 1 year ago
Text
A Dragon's Wrath
Request: hello hello, how are u? Idk if u write for Harwin Strong, but I'm obsessed with this man, so if you're not taking requests for him, forgive me for being rude. So I wanted to make a request where the reader is the younger sister of Rhaenyra Targaryen, also daughter of Aemma and Viserys. She married Strong, and lives a dream life with him (they love each other very much, so please, Rhaenyra's children are not his 🫠) and the legitimacy of their children was questioned, of course the queen would never imagine that Harwin had a birthmark, which none of his brothers inherited from Lyonel, he being the only one to have it and ALL THE CHILDREN OF HARWIN AND THE PRINCESS HAVE THAT SAME BRAND, JUST LIKE THE FATHER'S. Maybe I went on too long and was stupid, sorry, you can do whatever comes to your brilliant mind, I just really wish the legitimacy of the children of the OC was proved by legal means and gave no right to be questioned even by the queen. Thank you for your attention, I understand if you don't want to do it 🤍.
pairing: harwin strong x targ!fem!reader
word count: 3k
warnings: mentions of childbirth, alicent being snakey
a/n: first harwin fic, harwin girlies lmk what you think!! for the sake of this fic, Rhae's children have Targaryen silver hair
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In all the years the pair were married, King Viserys and Queen Aemma were blessed by the Mother with only two healthy, living babes. First born has been your elder sister Rhaenyra, whom you followed two years later.
Growing up the two of you remained close through your lessons and dragon riding, but as Rhaenyra grew older she would end up spending more and more time with her lady in waiting Alicent Hightower. Rhaenyra and Alicent being two of the only other girls your age in the Red Keep and their refusal to have anyone join them in their activities, you felt somewhat dejected by your sister's budding friendship.
This is what led you to find solace in the Red Keep's training yards. Day after day you watched knights, and knights in training, battle it out in the yard while you worked on your studies. It was there in the yard you saw him for the first time- your future husband, Ser Harwin Strong.
At the time you had no idea you would end up marrying him, of course, but you should have.
You'd heard all about Ser Harwin Breakbones, son of Lyonel Strong, one of your father's most loyal council men. Harwin's reputation truly preceded him and was rightfully earned.
You hadn't noticed it at the time, but you'd abonded your books and parchments in the stands by your supervising Septa as you approached the rail separating the stands and the training yard in an attempt for a clearer view.
Harwin stood taller than his opponents, shoulders back, sword in hand ready to defend himself. He watched his opponents carefully, calculating their next move. His short brown curls were halfway pulled back out of his face with a tie, exposing Harwin's jawline, much to your own enjoyment.
That afternoon you watched Harwin take down man after man without so much as a proper blow to his own body. He wielded his sword as if it were an extension of his arm in fluid, rushing movements.
When he had finally finished for the evening you applauded him, finally grabbing his attention as he had held yours.
"You are quite the swordsman, Ser Harwin!" you call out to him. "I feel much better knowing there are knights as skilled as you protecting my home."
Harwin grinned largely at your praise, twirling his sword in his hand for show as he approached the rail you supported yourself on. "I mean only to ensure you are safe at all times, my princess."
You smiled down at him now that he was almost right below you. "Well I have no doubts of your capabilities, Ser. I have a feeling you will do great things here, should you wish."
"You are too kind, princess," he chuckles. Then he looks up at the sky, towards the sun on it's way to set. "It is getting quite late, princess. Shall I escort you back to your chambers?"
The excitement and hopefulness in his face brought butterflies to your stomach.
"I would like nothing more, Ser."
After that night it was scarce the two of you weren't side by side, which all but pushed your fathers to wed the two of you.
Now you stood in those same stands, watching Harwin in the yard yet again, but now he's joined by your two eldest sons. Maevor has just passed his tenth and second name day, and Daeragon his ninth. Your two youngest babes, however remained with you and your maid and close friend, Malina.
Malina had first been assigned to you after your marriage to Harwin, and she'd stood loyally by your side as you birthed all of your children.
Malina's elder brother Ellion, a knight of the City Watch, stood closeby on the order of Harwin. He'd been one of Harwin's best men as you'd heard him compliment the younger knight on many occasions in the past. Being a Targaryen princess and wife of the Lord Commander in such uncertain times in the house of the dragon could be dangerous, and Harwin meant only to protect you and your babes.
Your first daughter, eldest of your month old twins, Naelora cooed softly in your arms as she played with the loose sleeve ends of your dress. You indulged her for a moment, raising your arm to lift the sleeve from her reach to tease her.
She gurgles in laughter, stretching her chubby little arms to grasp your sleeve once more.
The moment is over by the approach of Queen Alicent's lady in waiting, Talya.
"My apologies, Princess," Talya bows to you first. "But the Queen has requested Malina's presence for this afternoon."
Why would the queen need Malina specifically? Surely she could find another maid within the Keep to aid her?
Malina looks to you, pale brown eyes silently asking to stay. This isn't the first time something like this has happened, of course. After giving birth to your second son Daeragon, Queen Alicent began requesting Malina's presence more often.
Still sore from your labors, Harwin had taken the day off to aid you and watch over Maevor to allow you to rest.
You watched happily from your spot on the bed as Harwin held little Daeragon, to introduce him to his elder brother. Maevor, a boy of three years, stood as high as he could on his toes to get a peek over Harwin's bulk of an arm to get a glimpse of his brother.
Then your chamber doors open and Malina returns to your side after serving the queen all day. She approaches the foot of your bed, hands clasped together in front of her with her eyes cast slightly downwards.
"Malina, you needn't worry about me," you begin to dismiss her kindly. "I'm sure the Queen-"
But Malina shakes her head, brown curls following her, still refusing to meet your gaze. "I need to speak with you, Princess. And you, Lord Harwin, in privacy."
You share a concerned look with Harwin, who's joyfulness has been replaced with worry. In the time she's served you Malina had never been afraid to look you in your eyes.
He wastes no time escorting Maevor to his chambers just off your own, and placing little Daeragon in his crib next to your side of the bed. Harwin returns and stands dutifully on the other side of you as if protecting you.
"What is it?" you ask, and pat the bed in front of you for Malina to sit.
Malina makes no move to sit on your bed. "My princess," her voice wavers nervously. "I have served your for near half a decade now, and I know you to be the most true and kind person I have ever had the pleasure of serving-"
"Malina," Harwin interrupts sternly. "Speak it plain, what have you heard of my wife?"
Your heart thudded hard in your chest as you instinctively reached for Harwin's hand. He intertwined his fingers with your in an attempt to comfort you.
Malina takes in a deep breath before finally looking up to meet your gaze. "Queen Alicent requested my presence after your labors today for questioning."
"Questioning?" you tilted your head slightly. "About what?"
"Your sons," she answered swiftly. "She... She wanted to know if this babe looked like Harwin or..."
Harwin pulled his hand from yours, placing it on the hilt of his sword. "Or who, Malina?"
"Ellion," Malina whispers. "The Queen seems to believe that you spend too much time with Ellion, princess. She asked if I knew of any relations between the two of you, but I swore to her you are deathly loyal and would never-"
You move from your spot on the bed to bring yourself to stand. Harwin aids you as you steady yourself, then reach for Malina's forearm.
"You needn't explain yourself to me, Malina," you assure her. "I know you to be true to me, and you are one of the kindest ladies I know. You should go, retire for the night. We shall do the same."
Malina apologizes the whole way out your chamber doors despite your assurances. Harwin begins to strip his armor as you settle yourself back into bed.
Daeragon's crib sat just off the side of your bed, close enough for you to have a view of the newborn's little face.
Harwin soon joins your side clad in his nightclothes. You can feel his gaze on you, but you refuse to meet his gaze. Emotions ran rampant through you. You knew it must be the strain and high emotions of you and your new babe surviving the day, but you couldn't stop the rush.
It's when the tears begin to fall from your lilac eyes that Harwin wraps you up in his arms and pulls you back against him.
"My love," he cooes. "Sweet girl, do not worry yourself with the opinion of a misguided, jealous woman."
He raises his right hand to show off the inside of his right wrist, showing off the small, discolored patch of skin he inherited from his father, Lord Lyonel. A small, almost missable, seemingly insignificant patch of skin both Maevor and Daeragon had inherited.
Harwin leans in close, placing his lips against the shell of your ear. "We know I have fathered your sons, my love. Do not worry yourself with this, it is not worth it."
"You're right, husband," you hum, settling into your husband's arms for the night. "I'm just glad he's here, and healthy."
He kisses your temple softly. "You did that. You made him the healthy babe he is."
As you promised Harwin that night, you did your best to ignore the rumors pursued by Alicent. In the years following Daeragon's birth you'd heard more whispers within the court questioning your son's parentage, though you said nothing.
You tried your best to pay them no mind, other days they really got to you. But for now you simply obliged to the queen's wishes.
"Ser Ellion," you motioned your friend forward with one hand. He looked much like his sister as they shared the same nose, and brown curly hair, though Ellion's eyes were an elegant green. Still, no man in the Seven Kingdoms could come close to Harwin in your eyes.
"Would you mind taking my sweet Raemor from your sister? I'm afraid I cannot tend to both babes at once."
Ellion nods and leans down slightly to make a peaceful transition from his sister's arms. He wore an awkward grin on his face as he cradles the blanket wrapped babe the best he could in a full suit of armor. "It is an honor, Princess. Though I'm not certain he will be comfortable against such steel."
Malina bows and takes Talya's arm in her own. You know Malina's dislike for the woman, and you can only guess she's done this to ensure Talya is led away from you and your family.
You shake your head in response to Ellion yet keep your attention on your daughter in your arms. "It is no issue, Harwin holds them in his armor every day. He has with each of them."
A moment passes in silence and you look up to your husband and eldest children. Maevor's brown curls are just long enough on the top to be tied back while leaving some down thus his hair is relatively tame. Daeragon's, however, is tousled and absolutely untame.
Both boys are breathing heavier now, their cheeks flushed. But the beautiful, pure look of excitement on their faces melted your heart. They knew their father was Lord Commander of the City Watch, and that Harwin worked hard for his family at his very important job, and they treasured their father for it.
After taking them to see Harwin train with some of the new recruits of the City Watch two fortnights ago had been a mistake on your part for the boys had not shut up about training themselves. At first you had been hesitant, of course other Targaryen princes had been taught to fight years before your boys, but you were afraid of the things they might encounter so instead you encouraged them to spend time in the libraries and their respective dragons.
As a result the boys were extremely well read and years ahead of their pupils in their studies. Maevor is practically fluent in Valyrian now, and Daeg is not far behind.
Their insistent pleading had wore on you though, and you gave in to them with Harwin's reassurance he would personally oversee their training. In the end, Maevor and Daeg's immediate joy at being granted permission made it worth it in the end.
Harwin and the boys were cleaning their training gear and putting it away.
Ellion clears his throat, pulling your attention from your family. "I fear something is happening, Princess."
"What do you mean?" you ask, standing from your seat and brushing your skirts with one hand.
"I have been approached twice now," he explains carefully, watching who was sat in the immediate area. The closest people sat on the complete opposite of the training yard in those stands. "Once by a fellow knight, and then by Talya herself. I only mention this as a warning, Princess."
Harwin and the boys are nearly there and you don't want the boys to hear such slander.
"Thank you, Ellion," you force a smile to give him. "And I apologize for what has been whispered around court these last years, but I plan now to make it right."
Harwin approaches you then, slinking one arm around your waist as he presses a kiss to your temple. "Come, my love, the boys need to bathe and our littlest ones must be ready for their nap."
Maevor perks up, "Mother, may I carry Naelora back to your chambers?"
Your hearts melts at the question, Maevor ever the doting older brother. You grant your son permission, gently reminding him to hold her head carefully.
"And I shall take Raemor from you, Ellion. I thank you for your services for today."
He bows respectfully, "Tis my duty, and an honor."
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Once the twins are down for their naps and the older boys off to the bathhouse with Malina you informed Harwin of everything that had transpired this afternoon while he trained with the boys.
His thick brows furrowed almost immediately, angre written upon his face. Harwin had shed his armor by now, settling for more comfortable leathers for the evening. His sword however, stayed attached to his hip with one hand gripping the hilt.
"I am sick of hearing your name and reputation tarnished by fools!" Harwin seethes, angrier than you've ever seen him. "I have half a mind to slay them all down for even thinking such things of our children, of you."
You shake your head softly, approaching him to cup his face. You press your forehead against his own, something you've always done to comfort him.
"I have a plan, my dutiful husband," you assure him. "I happen to have a wonderful relationship with my father by law, if you must know. And I just so happen to know that a Small Council meeting starts in mere minutes."
Harwin eases a little, but now he's wrought with confusion.
"What have you planned, my love?"
You smile mischievously and press a sweet kiss to your husband's lips. "Just you wait husband, I first require our Maevor."
The boys are back from their baths by now as you can hear them bustling about Daeragon's chambers, which is the adjoining room to your own.
You knock before you enter as you always do, to the sight of your boys on Daeg's bed, books sprawled open before them.
"What have we there, byka zaldrīzoti (little dragons)?" you ask as you join them on the bed.
Daeg pulls the leather bound book to cover his lap to show you. "The Histories of Old Valyria!" he chimes. "Maevor was reading it to me in Valyrian."
You stroke Daeg's plush cheek with one hand, still able to see the babe he used to be in his face, and take Maevor's hand in your other.
"He's smart, your brother," you 'whisper' to Daeragon. "I would study hard, my Prince."
Maevor breaks his hand away to rustle his brother's brown curls. "Muña's teasing, Daeg. You are smarter now than I was your age."
You swoon, heart melting at the relationship between your boys. "Oh my sweet Maev," you kiss his temple. "Might I borrow you for a awhile, I have something important to discuss with the Small Council and I need your help."
Maevor's brown eyes widened slightly, "Of course, mother."
"Have no fear, sweet boy, I have a plan."
And you sure did. Once you explained what you could to Maevor while sparing his innocence best you could, he'd been more than willing to join you.
You squatted down to be closer to your son's level, Harwin by your side. "You are special, Maevor," you explain to him. You grab Harwin's right hand and Maevor's to put them side by side. Both birthmarks were near identical save for Harwin's being larger and slightly darker than his son's. "Each of my babes have this mark, all from Harwin, who inherited it from your grandsire, Lyonel. Do you understand?"
He nods, but says nothing. Harwin crouches down next to you, reaching to cup his eldest son's face.
"I wish we did not have to burden you with such a task, my boy," Harwin admits grimly. "I want you to know we are only doing this because we love you children, and I love your muña too much to let people speak of her in such a way any longer."
So the three of you set off, accompanied by Ellion as Malina had stayed behind to watch the twins and Daeragon.
Despite the Kingsguard outside the meeting room of the Small Council, you march right past them and push the doors open yourself.
Each member of the council turns to you now silenced. Otto sat up straighter in his seat as he looked towards his daughter. Alicent looked shocked to see the group of you, and you noted her visible nervousness.
Lyonel stands and comes to Harwin's side, demanding answers most likely. Harwin begins whispering in his father's ear, explaining the situation.
"Sister," Rhaenyra stands, hand placed over her round stomach. "What is wrong?"
You cross your arms over your chest, eyes blazing as you glare at the Hightowers at the table. "Since the birth of my Daeragon I have endured vile slanders against not only myself, but my marriage, and every one of my children."
Alicent shifts uncomfortably in her seat.
"Princess," Otto pokes in. "I can assure you-"
"Assure what?" you snap, slamming down on the table to lean towards the Hand. "Alicent has been the one to pull my ladies from me just after giving birth to insinuate my babes have been fathered by knight of the City Watch who is not my husband. Even now, a month after having my twins, I am approached with more blasphemy. No more."
You usher Maevor forward, who happily extends his right arm before you have to ask. Harwin joins you, followed by Lyonel, both of whom put out their wrists as well.
Alicent's mouth widens in shock before she grits her teeth. Even Larys' wears a look of shock as he checks his own wrists, coming up with nothing.
"I am tired of my children being put under scrutiny," you say finally. "And of my loyalty to my husband being questioned. Now, if you all do not mind, I would like to enjoy the rest of the day with my family undisturbed."
You step back from the table to leave when Rhaenyra wraps you up in a hug. "I am so sorry, sister," she whispers.
You assure her with a simple kiss to the side of her head before reaching for Maevor's hand.
The boy is practically bouncing on his feet as the two of you make your way back to your chambers, both Harwin and Ellion following close behind.
"She is very scary, your wife," Ellion admits to Harwin lowly. "I would to want to be on the receiving end of her wrath."
He only chuckles, "No, nor would I."
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becca-e-barnes · 1 year ago
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Imagine being stepdad Bucky’s dirty little secret😩🤫
I've been listening to 'Bad Man' by FIGHTMASTER and it's inspired some filthy fantasies that would fit stepdad Bucky perfectly 🤤
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I have so much I'd like to talk about but I'll start with how hot it would be to have him catch you playing with a toy when you think no one is home. Especially if you'd already been sleeping together but maybe you decided to stop when you got a new boyfriend.
You were so sure the house was empty, you didn't even think twice about slipping your vibrator from it's hiding spot. With your earphones in, you hadn't heard the footsteps down the hallway towards your bedroom. You didn't notice that your door wasn't closed tight either. All that mattered was the delightful buzzing of the toy against your clit, your hand squeezing your own breasts and the flithy thoughts that inspired you to touch yourself.
Fuck, this was a show for Bucky. He hadn't meant to invade your privacy but he wasn't quite sure how to look away. The memory of you writhing in pleasure kept him up at night but now he's getting to see it up close again.
"You really ought to close your door if you're going to do that, sweetheart." You miss the first half of what he said because you weren't able to take your earphones out fast enough, choosing instead to cover yourself.
Bucky only rolls his eyes. "No point covering up, honey. Did you forget I've kissed, licked or bitten pretty much every inch of you already?" There's an overwhelming cockiness in his tone and it makes knots twist in your stomach.
"Look, if that new guy you're dating can't take care of you, you only had to tell me." He steps inside and closes the door behind him and you swear he hasn't taken his eyes off you yet. "I'm not surprised he's not enough for you. I bet he's selfish, isn't he. He doesn't think about you. He won't take the time to learn what you like. He can't make your thighs shake the way I do."
His stare is intense but when you look away, he catches under your chin with two fingers, redirecting your line of sight back to him.
"You don't need to be shy." His voice is soothing, his hand creeping under the sheets and you don't make any effort to stop him from finding what he's looking for. He trails his fingers up your thigh, groaning softly when his fingertips reach the slick, messy folds of your sex.
"We shouldn't do this..." You protest feebly but that only makes him laugh.
"You're right. We shouldn't. So tell me why you're grinding yourself against my fingers like you're in heat." It's humiliating but he's got a point. "If he's not taking care of you, I'll have to remind you how sex is supposed to feel." Two of his thick, long fingers glide into your eager body and you feel him hook them inside you exactly how you always loved.
"You don't know how many times I've stroked my cock and tried to remember exactly what this little cunt feels like. I’ve tried to remember the way you squeeze me when you're cumming. Nothing feels like you do. Your body is a fucking luxury." He's losing his self control far faster than he wants to.
"Get on your hands and knees." It's an order you only start to respond to when he slips his fingers out of you and you reposition yourself in front of him. He tugs his zipper down, freeing himself from his underwear, giving his cock a few firm strokes before lining it up with your entrance.
"Oh sweetheart, it's been a while." He groans, pressing just the tip into you at first.
"Feels so fucking good." You babble, pressing yourself back on him, encouraging him to inch into your body. You haven't felt this blissed out in months and he's only getting started. You knew this wouldn't last. There was no way you'd be able to turn down the one man who truly knows your body. He understands your needs in a way no one else has ever even tried to. Maybe it's the age difference or the extra experience he's got but this man really understands your pleasure.
"Fuck, it does, doesn't it?" He laughs, pressing the rest of the way into you and giving you a couple of sharp, half thrusts.
It's not long before he's established a good rhythm, his cock slipping in and out of you while he reaches around you to rub your clit. You feel him kissing the back of your neck, groaning against your skin that he missed your body, up until a faint buzzing sound makes him pause.
At first you'd thought your vibrator switched back on but then you notice your phone screen illuminated on the sheets beside you and your boyfriend's face filling the screen.
"Answer it." Bucky demands, resuming his thrusts at the same pace as before. "I want you to answer it. Tell him what we're doing. Or hide it from him. It's up to you."
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tarotofhope · 2 months ago
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PAC: 【What do your parents think about you & Why ?】
(Please Read My Pinned post *IMPORTANT NOTE* before selecting a Pile)
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Pick an Image by meditating and selecting the image you feel called to. You can be attracted towards more than 1 image. If you are not able to select maybe this reading isn't for you.
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𖨆 Pile 1
Cards: Death, 3 of Wands, 6 of Swords, 8 of Cups, Strength, Queen of Wands, 4 of Cups, The World, 9 of Wands.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 1. There's a lot of heavy energy in this pile because there are two 8s in the cards. For some of the audience reading this pile, Either, both of your parents/one of your parents could have passed away when you were very young and you had to live with your relatives or in foster homes. For some of you, even if your parents were alive, they could've been so busy that they left you under the care of other people most of your childhood and teen age. For the remaining audience, I'm getting that even if both of your parents were alive and not so busy, they were very over-protective, over-bearing and strict, so you never opened up to them, you kept your thoughts to yourself and they never got to know you very well. All in all, whoever took your custody, didn't do their job well. You got sick and tired of them, and you've always been looking for a listening ear and comfort in the outside world. You've been waiting for someone to truly understand you and love your soul, someone who doesn't tie you up(not in a literal sense, iykyk) just because they're concerned about your safety, someone who respects your right to freedom. You might have left your guardian/parents behind and went out on your own journey to discover yourself, embracing your independence. It took a lot of courage and strength to do this, but you did it anyway. You might have faced a few major ups and downs in your life as a result of which you became mature much faster than your peers. You're much stronger now and you'll continue to be so. Your journey is from hardships to finally becoming The Queen of Wands. You might have good judgement of people and their intentions. Your parents/guardian might say that they were protecting you from harm all this time, that's why they were strict with you, they want your best and so on..but in reality, you know that wasn't required, what they actually did was messed you up. For some of you, they could be keeping you from going far away from them, because now they expect you to take care of them. They're not allowing you to grow and be your own person. Now, see, people from different countries will have different outlook on this. Indeed, old people need care but keeping a young person trapped and not letting them have a life of their own is not right. Raising children with the intention of getting something in return during oldage, is outright selfish.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 1.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
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𖨆 Pile 2
Cards: The Hierophant, The King of Pentacles, The Sun, 8 of Wands Rev. clarified by The World, The Fool clarified by Ace of Pentacles, Ace of Cups clarified by 2 of Pentacles, Queen of Swords.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 2. You guys along with pile 1 are my brave and bold people, I must say. Great leadership qualities you've got. Even your parents think so. They just think that you don't realize this, they think that you're not aware of your full potential and you're not quite out there as you should be in order to become a successful person. They think you're also very demanding of them and you don't understand the value of money. They also know that you're religious or traditional in a way but you make your own rules when it comes to you. They know you'd do very well when you'll be in a position to lead a group of people. I can see 2 scenarios here, few of you could themselves be facing a hard time in love, struggling a lot, while others of you could be giving a hard time to people who are in love with you/romantically interested in you, such as rejecting proposals, having commitment issues, intentionally or unintentionally breaking other people's heart. You are more ambitious and goal oriented and interested in focusing on your career rather than love. Your parents can sense this, whether you talk about these issues or not. You seem like a very practical and rational person to your parents and so you're not verbal about how much you love them, you're a person of actions. Your love language could be acts of service or gift giving. They also think that you believe in yourself so much that nobody can bring you down. Yet there is this issue that you somehow do not realize the amount of power you hold, that you have the ability to achieve big things in life. Your parents already see you as the King of Pentacles, The Hierophant, but they think you're not working up to it whether they've ever said this to you or not.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 2.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
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𖨆 Pile 3
Cards: 3 of Pentacles, Temperance, 2 of Swords clarified by The Moon, 4 of Wands, 2 of Wands, 3 of Wands, Ace of Swords, High Priestess, Queen of Pentacles.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 3. Your parents think that you're very mature and you can also give good advice to people. They think you're quite sensible and philosophically, you're very open minded but when it comes to being sure of your own life, you get very confused. You might be torn between choosing your career and settling down. You don't know how to balance both. You're confused about what could come upon you if you do both the things. Currently, you could be more focused on your career, you might be wanting to achieve stability in your career first or you have a set target of achieving something specific in regards to your professional life. As far as your love life is concerned, whatever your relationship status might be, you seem heavily confused because you're afraid that your love life might interfere with your professional life. Your parents are very concerned about this because they want you to have more clarity in life and they want you to arrive at a proper conclusion. They might be trying to give you advice on this, but you're still confused and want to be left alone to decide for yourself on such significant matters of your life. Some of you might be into long distance relationships and so you're even more confused while some of you want to travel abroad for work and settle there. A few of you might even be waiting for your visa or if you're already abroad, you might be waiting for your citizenship. I'm also seeing lot of arguments here, between you and your parents. Your parents might be traditional and they might want you to have a traditional approach to life too. They want you to become responsible in life. You might want to travel the world or enjoy your life your way no matter how messed up it may look like to others. You don't want to have regrets later on in life. Your parents think you're not clear-headed though you seem so put together, they think you're so much internally balanced but you're not using your inner guidance in this matter.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 3.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
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𖨆 Pile 4
Cards: 9 of Cups, Page of Pentacles, The Hierophant, Queen of Pentacles, 9 of Pentacles clarified by Justice, The Sun, The Tower, King of Cups, 8 of Pentacles and 4 of Cups.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 4. Your parents think you're very lazy. You could belong to an upper middle class family or a financially well off family. They think you've been fortunate enough to have everything you demand available to you within no time. They think they've spoiled you but they still love you so much. Some of you could be an only child. Some of you could've started your own business or joined your family business. They know you're someone who wouldn't like to work under anyone, you would want your own thing. Your parents know that you're very talented but you don't do anything about it or you don't extract the full advantage out of it. They believe you can show the world how talented you are, that you are your own individual person, unique and full of potential despite coming from a wealthy family. They don't want the world to tell you later on that you didn't achieve anything on your own. You could have also inherited a lot of ancestral property or wealth. You want to continue having this kind of life in your future too but you're not working hard enough for it. You might also be very young at heart or very childish. You like to be spoon fed or you want others to do your work for you. Your parents might also have this fear that, if you don't learn your lessons by yourself, life will find out other ways to teach you and then that would put you in a tough situation and you wouldn't like it, you might have to learn the hard way then. That's why they want you to work hard for yourself and your future. You might also have too many friends, too many people who might not even be your well wishers. Your parents(even your guides) want you to choose wisely. You need to focus on yourself and that can be done only when you'll be in solitude. You need to observe more and be more connected with yourself.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 4.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
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𖨆 Pile 5
Cards: Justice, 4 of Swords, 4 of Cups, The Hanged Man, 6 of Pentacles, 4 of Pentacles, The Empress, 9 of Cups Rev, The Tower and The Emperor.
Welcome to your reading, Pile 5. Your parents think that you're unbiased and fair. You don't do things to show off or to impress anyone. You'll let people hate you for the things you do, which you think is right in your heart. Even your parents could be a little irked by how you defend yourself and others because they think you're arguing when you're just putting your point across. They think you're the quiet, calm and lonely child of your house. You not only like your solitude but you thrive in it. You function best when you're left alone, they think. They know you're also the one who hates conflicts but would start a fight if you're being wronged. They also think you're emotionally very sensitive and would go out of your way to help others. Your parents also want you to let go of the past and the things that hurt you, because you get yourself stuck in the sorrow and hurt and then you just don't budge, you don't move on. It takes a lot for you to get out of an emotional turmoil. They like how you're happy with your own self but they also want you to get out of your comfort zone and be out there more, make friends, talk more, socialize more. Maybe you have a very few friends or no friends at all. They think you'll succeed in your life if you go out and travel more because they think you also lack confidence and boldness. They think you're also very protective of them, very caring and family oriented. They want you to become strong because you might have faced a lot of difficulties earlier and you still appear very naive and weak to them(for a few of you, your parents or others might even tease you for appearing naive and weak) but I think you have a lot of inner strength, pile 5, which the world doesn't see. They think you're the disciplined and obedient child. They know you'll stick to them in tough times but some of your parents might even be taking advantage of you. They also think that you're not smart and clever enough to understand tricky situations/people, you may or may not be so.
That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 5.
Love, light, peace and hope to you..🌸🍁🌻🌼
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Thank you so much for being here. I post PAC readings every Tuesday and Friday. Do love and support by reblogging, liking or following.
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soracities · 6 months ago
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I have been thirty for a few months. I never thought I'd make it, truly. I had no plans beyond twenty. I'm a high school drop out with various disabilities, I'm not conventionally 'attractive', I've never had many friends and my support network has failed me several times. And the idea of making plans, after a trail of failures and let-downs (both of myself and others), only filled me with dread. I have to take care of so much. I have my blessings, of course, but not without my own troubles. I have never been on a date, I've never been kissed even though I do want that. I've had to make the decision between bills and feeding myself. I've watched everyone around me fade away or leave. This, however, will pass. This time, in ten years, I'll have been forty for a few months. In twenty, I'll be fifty. And I can see myself being those ages. This year, I planted flowers for the first time and I've watched them grow. I've started reading after years of being told I am too stupid to understand things or that having joys won't make me successful. I've made new friends. I even repaired the strained relationship with my parents, something I never thought I'd be able to do. My life isn't going to be plastered on a big screen or be a bestseller but I don't need it to be. If I never marry or I die alone with no one, I don't think I'll regret it because I'll have myself. My thirties, I realize, are my gift to myself to know love and be loved by myself. Like I ... was the one who grew those flowers that made me happy because I know flowers make me happy, I chose to read the books I love because I know that they will make me happy, I choose to find my little joys instead of the joys others have expected of me. I'll get myself to forty, fifty, maybe even a hundred! I'll continue to give myself little joys because right now that is what is making me happy. That may change at forty! At fifty, a hundred, I don't know! I believe, however, I would like to find out ... and that is something I never would have said at twenty. I don't know if I will make it because as my farmer of a grandfather would say, "You have no idea what a year will bring." And you don't, there is no way to predict what the year, the month, or even tomorrow will bring, but you plant the seeds anyway. You plant them and take care of them as though you know they get to full ripeness and harvest. That process, I've learned for myself, is how I've found love. I just plant the seed today. I may or may not have flowers tomorrow but knowing that I may is enough for me to want to see.
.
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makeitmingi · 7 months ago
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The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 33]
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Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy
Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)
Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho
Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?
Word count: 3.3K
"Yunho..." You raised your head from your pillow, slight hesitation and worry in your voice.
"Hmm?" He hummed, eyes focused on the game that he was playing on his phone. You and him were slowly growing accustomed to staying at each other's places. And tonight, Yunho was staying over at your place.
"Would you like to visit my mom?" You asked.
That's how you ended up in your position now. Yunho drove, worried that you were too distracted to drive. He was right, you couldn't focus on a single thought for more than 5 seconds.
"Thanks again for coming." You blurted out, hands dripping the material of the pants you were wearing.
"(y/n), there's no need to thank me. I should be thanking you for introducing me to her." He said, reaching over to place his hand on yours.
"I'm a littler nervous. Going there always sends me spiralling." You confessed. But it also acted as a warning to Yunho of the state that you will be in when you reach.
"It's okay, I'll be with you all the way, alright?" He squeezed your hand.
"You can tell me anything, I'll always listen." He added. You nodded with a hum, turning to look out the window but you never let go of Yunho's hand. Although the memories of your mother are fond, they always scared you. So Seonghwa made you promise that you'll never come here alone.
"When I think about my mother... She's an amazing person. Seeing her regress to the state she was in before she died... It still haunts me." You told him.
"I understand that, considering how close you were with her..." Yunho empatised.
"And on top of that, my father was detaching himself. I could tell, when she got sick, he just wasn't there." You sighed.
"He left your mom alone?" Yunho asked in disbelief.
"Yes and no. He was there but he didn't visit her room, buried himself in work... almost as if she was already gone from our lives. And right after she died, he got together with my stepmother." You sighed.
"It's like he didn't even care to mourn for her. I became invisible to him, just forgotten. The father that I knew and counted on growing up was gone. And I know a part of me still cannot reconcile with that." You said.
"I can't imagine you having to go through that all on your own, especially at that age." Yunho replied with a small shake of his head, he really didn't like your father.
"You know, I always wondered how different things would have been if my mother was still around." You chuckled bitterly.
"Or is this just his true colours?" You thought out loud.
Yunho didn't reply to that. He has never met your father and mother But he knew he hated your father and was angry with him for treating you that way when you were little and just lost your mother.
"That's the only good part. Your mother isn't around to see how your dad truly is." Yunho said. You hummed in agreement.
"For a long time, I thought maybe that's just his way of mourning. Maybe he just blames me for making my mother sick. He always said she started getting weaker after she gave birth to me. That's why I don't have a sibling. It made me believe my mother would still be alive if I wasn't born." You said.
"That's not true. It's not your fault and your dad shouldn't blame it on you, you're his kid." Yunho frowned.
"It didn't help my case that my stepmother and I hated each other from the start. He hated that I 'embarrassed him'." You scoffed.
"Was she mean to you as a kid?" Yunho probed a little more. He was glad that you found this opportunity to share more with him so he could learn more about you.
"She saw me as a threat so she tried to erase me from my father's life. Little did she know, my father already didn't care for me at that point. But she knows she'll never be my mother." You said.
"What about your stepbrother?" He asked.
"Oh, just as bad as her. But he was the perfect child, wanting to be a doctor, so of course my dad was fine with paying for everything."
"My mother was a respected woman. Everyone loved her, no one can come close to her. She was philantropic, humble and confident. Everyone knows my stepmother is only in it for the name and the money. She'll never replace my mother. Even Seonghwa's parents hate my father and stepmother now." You shrugged.
"What parent would just ignore their child like that...How could he just leave you to be on your own after your mother died." Yunho shook his head.
"It was hard and I barely survived it but that's a discussion for another time." You forced a smile, patting the back of his hand.
"Thank you for telling me all that."
"Nothing to thank me for. I never want it to happen but if you meet my father and stepmother some day, I just want you to be prepared for how they will be." You said.
"I hope I never run into them." Yunho clicked his tongue. You assumed it was because Yunho was afraid of your dad. But no, Yunho just knew he would not be able to fight to urge to punch your dad.
"Is this this place?" Yunho stopped the car and leaned forward to see the sign overhead.
"Yeah, you can go straight ahead and park there." You pointed. Yunho nodded and continued driving until you told him to stop and park the car. When you both stepped out, Yunho went to grab the offerings from the boot.
"Are you cold?" Yunho asked, seeing you wrap your arms around yourself as you waited. You shook your head with a small smile.
"I just... hate it here." You looked away. It was hard explaining all the emotions you felt when you came here. Yunho came forward, holding your hand to walk with you.
"It's okay." He kissed the back of your hand. Although Yunho walked in front, you guided him to where your mother was.
"There she is." You nodded to the headstone that was by the big plum blossom tree.
"Hi... mom..." It felt like there was a rock in your throat you just couldn't swallow. Yunho saw your apprehension but didn't point it out or rush you.
"I'll set up." He said softly, opening the picnic mat. He placed down the flowers, fruit, Korean rice cakes and alcohol. Thankfully, he called his mother to ask for help the night before. You watched, rooted to your spot as Yunho picked off the weeds and used a clean, damp cloth to wipe the headstone.
"Done." Yunho informed, carefully folding the cloth and setting it aside. He didn't greet your mother yet, wanting to let you go first. You gulped nervously, kneeling down on shaky hands.
"H-Hi, mom... I-It's been a while... I'm s-sorry about that." You stuttered as your brain refused to form coherant sentences.
"You go. I don't know what else to say." You said with a clenched jaw. Yunho nodded, patting your head.
"Nice to meet you, omonim. My name is Jeong Yunho, I am (y/n)'s boyfriend. (y/n) has told me a lot about you and she continues to do so." Yunho smiled, bowing deeply.
"I own the restaurant that she's currently working at. She's amazing, her and the whole crew. They saved my business." He continued.
"Thank you for leading her to me." He smiled.
You looked on at how Yunho spoke to your mum, tears slipping down your cheeks. Hearing his words, maybe he was right. Your mother led you to Yunho, knowing what a patient, kind and amazing person he would be in your life.
"He's a big eater, mom, just like Hwa is. You would have loved feeding him." You whispered. To which, Yunho grinned proudly, nodding in confirmation.
"I promise to take care of (y/n)." Yunho quickly added.
"You already take such good care of me, Yunho." You said. He turned to you, wiping your cheeks with his thumbs.
"I know that. And I'll continue to do it. I just have to reassure your mom that her daughter is in good hands, don't I?" He chuckled with a charming smile, reaching over to pinch your cheek.
"I don't really know what you like to eat but I hope fruits, sweet rice cake and the soju is okay. I'll bring more next time." Yunho said.
"She's not a picky eater. She'll be grateful no matter what." You informed with a soft smile. It made your heart swell when Yunho said 'next time'.
"Here, sit." Yunho brushed the mat for you to sit. You hesitated before taking a seat beside him with your mother's headstone opposite. It was a new feeling, you never wanted to stay here for too long. Seonghwa always had to convince you to stay a little longer before you ultimately rushed out of there.
"Can you believe how long it has been since you left, mom? I'm still not over it..." You sighed. Yunho reached over to hold your hand, rubbing the back with his thumb to comfort you.
"When you left, dad left too. Things have never been the same, our family is gone." Your tears fell into your lap.
"But it's okay, I'm okay. I have a new family of my own, a better one." You looked up at Yunho with a sad smile. He smiled back at you.
Yunho wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to his body and kissing the crown of your head. You wiped your tears with your sleeves.
Then it all happened, the same thing that always happened when you came, the flashbacks of memories of your mother. The happy ones and then the sour ones leading up to her death and after.
"Let's go." Pulling away from Yunho, you stood up and brushed your pants. Yunho looked at you in shock and confusion.
"Are you sure? There's no rush and-"
"Yunho, now. Please." You begged. Seeing your pleading eyes, Yunho nodded and stood up as well.
"Why don't you head to the car first? Start up the engine. I'll pack up and be with you." Yunho suggested kindly. You didn't need to be told twice. Taking the keys from him, you trudged down the small path and headed to the car.
"Forgive her, omonim. It's still hard on her..." Yunho bowed politely as he began to pack up. He pour the soju over the grass patch and put the fruit away then folded the blanket.
"Watch over her and protect her, please. She doesn't deserve all this. I'm sure you know that..." He sighed as he patted the headstone.
"We'll be back soon." He gave a final bow before leaving. You were already settled in the passenger seat.
"Hey." Yunho put the things in the boot and came to the driver's seat. Usually, he holds your hand but this time, you were so quick to grasp his hand, as if you would go crazy if you didn't.
"Hey, hey. It's okay..." His other hand came over to cup your cheek.
"Let's go home, hmm?" He smiled softly and you nodded. Yunho drove to your home, sensing that you would prefer the familiarity.
When Yunho arrived, you both went upstairs. Yunho placed the bag of fruits down on the counter and you immediately glued yourself to him, hugging his waist tightly and burying your face against his chest. Yunho hushed you, one hand on the back of your head and one on your back to hold you.
"It's okay, it's okay." He whispered as he felt your tears soak the front of his shirt. Yunho let you hold onto him for as long as you needed, he wasn't going to be the first to let you go.
"Sorry, let me shower." You mumbled.
"Don't be sorry." He patted your head. You shuffled to your bathroom to shower while he quickly showered in the other bathroom.
"Yunho, I'm sorry. I... I..." You struggled to find the words as you both sat on the bed after your showers. Yunho offered to help you dry your hair so you could sleep.
"Love, I told you, there's nothing to be sorry about." He told you, daringly trying the new affectionate nickname.
"I just have this whirlwind of emotions when it comes to her." While you didn't address it, you didn't react negatively so Yunho took that as a win.
"I understand, it's normal." Yunho said. When he was done, you combed your hair while he put the hair dryer back. He got under the covers and you scooted close to him so he could wrap his long arms around you securely. You felt safe with him.
"Yun, thank you." You murmured.
"You're very welcome." He smiled, brushing your hair away from your face, staring into your eyes.
Holding his bicep, you lifted yourself slightly to be on his eye level and pressed your lips to his. Yunho's eyes widened but kissed back, pulling your body closer to his. You pulled away first to breathe.
"Are you okay?" You chuckled, hand resting on his warm cheek. He grinned and pounced over, showering you in kisses.
"Argh! Yunho!" You yelled out as he placed multiple kisses all over your face like an excited puppy.
"That was amazing." Yunho grinned happily. You rolled your eyes jokingly, putting your face against his chest so he wouldn't see you all shy and embarrased.
"Go to sleep." You slapped his chest.
"I expect a wake up kiss later." He declared before returning to the original position as before. You let out an audible sigh then closed your eyes to sleep. Yunho let out a soft laugh, seeing you fall asleep to quickly. He was just teasing you but was glad that you took the first step and you shared your first kiss as a couple.
"Goodnight, my love." He rested his cheek against your head and joined you in dreamland.
"Oh, Seonghwa hyung." Yunho greeted, quickly adjusting his post-sleep hair when he saw that your best friend had arrived. He closed your bedroom door, not wanting to disturb you.
"Hey, thanks for contacting me." Seonghwa greeted Yunho with a brief hug.
"She's sleeping but I thought she might need you more than she needs me... to comfort her." Yunho rubbed the back of his neck.
"Yunho, you know that's not true. She needs you too, you've become such a big part of her life now, provided her protection and comfort." Seonghwa smiled softly.
"I'm guessing you both haven't eaten." Seonghwa raised an eyebrow. Yunho nodded his head shyly.
"It's early for dinner but considering it's your first meal of the day, I'll get started on cooking." Seonghwa informed. Before going to the kitchen to cook, Seonghwa went into the room just to be with you for a bit and see how you were.
"Let me help, hyung. I want to cook for her." Yunho said, standing in the kitchen, when Seonghwa came back out. Seonghwa chuckled as he nodded.
"I'll learn from you. I can't cook a full meal by myself but I can help." He said with determination.
"Sure, ask questions if you have any." The older began to look through your fridge, reading the labels on all the stuff.
"Put these on the counter for me?" Seonghwa requested. Yunho took the vegetables and deli containers, putting them on the kitchen island to be used later.
"Do you know what you're gonna cook right away?" Yunho asked.
"No. So I took out stock because you can always use stock in cooking. Then these vegetables look like they're going to spoil so I took them out too." Seonghwa explained, finding a knife.
"(y/n) removed you from knife duty, right? I don't want to face her wrath for disobeying her." Seonghwa teased.
"Ah, hyung~ Come on. I'm sure all of you got hurt in the kitchen before too! It was just a little cut but she doesn't let me near the knives anymore. I don't want to go back to weighing ingredients. That's so boring." Yunho whined. Seonghwa laughed and let Yunho use one of the spare chef knives.
"So we'll use the stock and braise the leeks. That's easily done in the stove then thrown into the oven. There's also some beef, we can do rice bowls." Seonghwa said.
"Okay, I'll follow your lead." Yunho began.
"Oh, let's make a quick pickle. Green papaya, radish and carrot. You can use this slicer. Use the guard though." He instructed.
"Alright, so to draw the water out, we put salt and let it sit for a bit. It's thinly sliced to it should be quite quick. In the meantime, we have prepare the pickling liquid." Seonghwa taught Yunho.
The two of them prepared the meal together, Yunho learning and remembering the little tips Seonghwa taught him.
"Yunho?" You woke up and found the bed empty. Groaning, you reached over to turn on the bedside lamp. After checking the time, you got out of bed and went to wash your face. You assumed Yunho had gone home.
"So you want to baste the steak to add flavour, grab the handle and tilt the pan like this." You peeked over to see Seonghwa teaching Yunho how to cook.
"What's going on here?" You blinked. The two men stopped and looked over at you.
"You're awake." Yunho bound over to you, putting his arms around you to wrap you in a big bear hug.
"Hey, Hwa." After hugging Yunho, you went to hug Seonghwa. He wrapped an arm around your waist while you took a a few seconds to rest your forehead on his shoulder.
"You okay, sweetheart?" He whispered. You didn't say anything, your silence was a sufficient response. He patted your back.
"Aren't you supposed to be off knife duty?" You raised an eyebrow, turning to Yunho.
"Aww, (y/n). Come on~ I was careful. Look, no cuts." Yunho wriggled his fingers to show you. You gave him a skeptical look and went to the fridge to pour yourself some cold coffee, wanting the taste and aroma to really help wake you up. Yunho reached over to steal a sip from you.
For the first time, you didn't cook, on insistence by Yunho and Seonghwa that they'll handle it. They only allowed you to sit by the counter to watch them.
"Shall I make you a bowl?" Seonghwa offered.
"Can you let me slice the steaks, at least?" You asked back. Seonghwa gave you a flat look but gave in easily.
"Alright, let me assemble my bowl." You laid the slices of steak over your rice, making a well in the middle to put a raw egg yolk and sauce. Yunho placed the pickles they made onto a sharing dish.
"Perilla leaf kimchi?" Seonghwa asked. You nodded and he went to put a plate of kimchi there.
"Thank you for cooking, you two." You said before digging into the food with them.
"This is so good! Seonghwa hyung is a great teacher." Yunho said between his chews, clearly impressed that he helped put together such a delicious dish.
"And I'm just chopped liver... Maybe next time, you should cook with Seonghwa and help him with his prep, since he's such an amazing teacher, you know?" You scoffed, feigning offense. Yunho's face fell as he tried to defend himself.
"You know that's not what I mean!"
~
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