#my new thing is to come on here after a few months to drop a gif set of a show i don't watch 🤷🏻‍♀️
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passengerprincessblog · 3 days ago
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“Lewis, Next Door”~ pt 1 Lewis Hamilton x Reader
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Warning: age gap, alcohol?
Summary: Coming home from university, Y/N expects a quiet reunion with family���until she finds herself face-to-face with the enigmatic Lewis Hamilton, her dad’s famous neighbor and friend. What starts as a dull evening soon turns unexpectedly electric when Lewis offers more than just small talk.
I hadn’t been home all semester. Between studying, late-night group projects, and the occasional breakdown, the past few months at uni had been… a lot. I’d pushed through, and even though I’d missed my parents, there was something about finishing this term that made me feel a little invincible. I was finally here, though, bags slung over my shoulder as I hugged my mom in the doorway and let my dad ruffle my hair in that way he always did.
Home sweet home.
After the greetings and settling in, I noticed someone else was around. Our neighbor, Lewis Hamilton, was back too. Usually, he was off racing, so it was a rare sight. I wasn’t someone who followed F1 religiously, but I knew Lewis was a big deal—and the whole “dad’s friend” thing only made it more surreal. The few times we’d run into each other, I’d been struck by how effortlessly confident he was. Attractive? Absolutely. Intimidating? Without a doubt. But, honestly, I’d never thought much beyond that. He was just Lewis, the neighbor.
That night, my dad was throwing a big party to celebrate his latest product launch. Fancy guests, fancy decorations, fancy everything—the whole nine yards. I’d barely unpacked, and here I was, getting ready to play dress-up and smile politely for a parade of strangers. My friends were out clubbing tonight, living it up, and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy. But I loved my dad, so here I was, hair styled, makeup on point, feeling like I’d stepped into someone else’s life for the night.
As the party got into full swing, I did my best to stay interested, though I kept glancing at my phone, imagining my friends dancing somewhere with loud music and neon lights. Instead, I was here, weaving through clusters of my dad’s colleagues. He was chatting with a group of important-looking men, so I took my chance and approached him, feeling like a little kid again as I asked, “Can I please just have one drink?”
He shot me a disapproving look. “No. You know the answer.”
“Fine,” I muttered, trying not to let my frustration show. I wandered around a bit, catching snippets of adult conversation that were all about business deals and tax write-offs. Glamorous.
Finally, I spotted a lonely champagne glass on a table. I glanced around, and with a little thrill of rebellion, I picked it up, taking a sip. It was cold and crisp, and even though I’d never been a huge fan of champagne, it felt like a tiny slice of freedom. A few more sips, and I was actually starting to relax.
That’s when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned, and there he was—Lewis, giving me a knowing smile.
“I see you like my drink?” he teased, eyes glinting with amusement.
My stomach dropped. Oh god, I’d taken his champagne? “Oh my god. I’m so sorry… I didn’t know… I can get you a new one if you want, I just—”
He chuckled, shaking his head. His laugh was low and warm, and something about it made me relax, just a bit. “Nah, I’m messing with you. It’s fine. I don’t even really drink anyways.” He grinned, flashing a glimpse of a gold grill that made him look both mischievous and effortless, a vibe that seemed distinctly Lewis.
I managed a shy nod, suddenly unsure of what to do with my hands. “Oh… good. Thanks.” I couldn’t believe I was so nervous. But he just kept looking at me, his gaze both curious and relaxed.
He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “You bored? I’m so bored. No offense to your dad, of course.”
I let out a laugh, surprised at how blunt he was. “It’s boring,” I admitted, feeling a little guilty, but somehow knowing he understood. He had this whole wild, glamorous life, and a party like this was probably as dull as watching paint dry for him.
“So, what? You’re back from uni, huh? That’s crazy. I remember when you were like, ten,” he says, a teasing smile playing on his lips.
I feel my cheeks heat up with a pang of embarrassment. Here I was, feeling all cool and grown up, and he still saw me as a kid. Great.
“Yep,” I reply, trying to keep my tone light but failing to hide the faint annoyance.
“Well, you’re better than me,” he shrugs. “I never finished school.” I glance at him, surprised he’s trying to keep this conversation going. Usually, we barely exchanged two words, and now, here we were, alone, talking like… friends? Something more? I didn’t know.
“Well… yeah, but you’re a millionaire,” I say, trying to sound casual, though there’s a little hint of playfulness in my voice. I’m not exactly flirting, but maybe a little. Just testing the waters.
He raises an eyebrow, smiling at me but seeming almost uncomfortable at the mention of his money. He shrugs again. “You’re not exactly struggling either,” he teases back.
Was… that a flirt? Or was I just imagining it? It’s just the way he said it, the way his gaze lingers a moment longer than it should. My pulse quickens, but I try to play it cool.
“No… not exactly,” I say, catching his hint and matching his tone. I glance around, making a point about how dull this party is. “Just right now.”
He chuckles, and there’s a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Maybe next time, you come to one of my parties,” he says. It sounds more like a command than an invitation, like he’s decided I’ll be there.
I nod softly, trying to hide the thrill in my expression. He’s really inviting me? He seems amused, almost as if my reaction is endearing.
“Yeah, maybe,” I say with a slight shrug, finishing off the champagne. I feel his eyes on me, and when I look up, he’s studying me, like he’s considering something.
Then he breaks into a grin. “I could give you my number,” he says, casual but direct.
I raise an eyebrow, trying to mask the excitement bubbling up. “Oh?”
“So you can tell me next time you’re bored,” he adds, giving me a cheeky wink.
I feel my cheeks flush as I pull out my phone. He takes it from me, putting his number in. My hands are shaking just a bit when he hands it back.
“There,” he says with that familiar grin. “Now you’ll be set.”
“Cool. Thanks,” I say, somehow managing to keep my voice steady. Inside, though, I feel my heart racing.
He glances back at the party, then back at me, giving me one last wink. “I should probably go talk to your dad. See you around, Y/N.”
And then he’s gone, leaving me standing there, still holding the empty champagne glass, my mind spinning. His number. His number. A part of me feels like I’m floating.
———————————
Oo La La 🙈
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valcntinos · 1 year ago
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tonycries · 2 months ago
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Madam Zenin - T.F.
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Synopsis. There’s nothing that rouses Toji, the infamous head of the Zenin clan, nothing that will make him lose control - until they take what’s most important to him. You.
Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, arranged marriage, clan leader! Toji, kídnapping, the elders súck, Toji goes INSANE, BRÉEDING, talks of an heir, oraI (fem), fíngering, Toji’s powers, FÉRAL Toji, créampie, spítting, overstím, AU if Toji didn’t leave the clan, slight misogyny from Naoya, slight bIood, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 6.2k
A/N. Didn’t realize how much clan leader!Toji made me quake so…Hope y’all have a good day <3
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“Who took her?”
“M-master?”
There wasn’t a single individual in the Zenin Estate that didn’t think Toji Zenin wouldn’t kill them in the blink of an eye. Happily, at that. 
It was rumored he was cursed, ruthless. And out of everyone - elders, servants, children - not one didn’t look over their shoulder behind every corner of the sprawling Zenin house, flinching at his mere shadow. Broad, towering, wrenching out nothing but hushed apologies and deep bows - they never dared to look into his devastating eyes. 
And right now, that pale-faced attendant of yours could only tremble - pray - she won’t be next on Toji’s long, long list of victims when the looming man himself bends to meet her lowered gaze. And oh-
Fuck. 
No one ever saw the vicious head of the Zenin clan smile - no one. 
Except you.
And here he had the most dangerous grin gracing his features, darkened olive eyes wide - crazed, when they halt on that slightest drop of red sinking into the tatami mats.
“My wife.” The other woman jumps when he loudly kicks your chamber door open. Abruptly barking out a deep, humorless laugh at the disheveled emptiness inside, “Who took my wife?”
---
Young master Zenin - Toji Zenin. Your husband.
It’s only been a few months since your stiff, lavish wedding ceremony to him - part of an arranged deal made between his clan and your own. Your parents practically leapt at the chance to marry into such an esteemed jujutsu name, forgetting all those dark rumors swirling around the young head at the first golden glint of the Zenin family’s massive treasury.  
Sure, they promised to treat you well, to prime you into becoming the new madam of their distinguished household. But you knew better - it wasn’t your upbringing or your cursed technique that brought you here, they couldn’t care less - no, it was because of an heir. 
The one thing that the Zenin family didn’t have. 
And the one thing Toji Zenin refused to give them.
That much was obvious when just minutes after exchanging vows and the ceremonial sake, a group of todgering elders had thrust a heady antidote for conception into your hands, smiling smugly as if they’d just given you the wedding gift of the century. Of course, your all-new husband didn’t even look at you properly on your wedding night - opting instead for a short, husky goodnight and to sleep in a separate bedroom down the hall from the newly-weds’ chamber. 
He wasn’t a cruel husband, you think, and he was attractive - painfully so - and felt more like a gruff acquaintance than anything. But the only problem was that he didn’t embrace you, not even a fleeting kiss.
Even when you really wanted Toji to.
“-T-Toji?” you’re breathing shallowly, eyes blinking up hazily at the dim lighting. It comes out small, cracking so pathetically at the end.
“---Toji--even----”
“No use--- had--months---”
“---keep her to myself--”
Instantly, you’re sitting upright in a cold, wooden chair. Heart thumping wildly against the ribs of your body, it bangs at the thickly digging rope wrapping around your body.
Shit shit shit - where were you? The last thing you remembered was chatting with your attendant in your room, and she’d handed you a brand-new perfume to smell- Fuck. Where was-
“Ah, you’re awake.” There’s a high, sing-song voice from somewhere on your right, and your blood runs chillingly cold when you recognize that voice. “Honestly, I hoped you wouldn’t be around for this part but-” Naoya Zenin claps his hands to get the attention of every other elder hunched around the traditional Japanese room. “-that just makes it all the more fun, right?”
With the one tiny lantern being lit overhead, you could make out those scraggly smiles, the sharp glint of the Zenin Clan’s famed katanas. A tear stumbles down your trembling cheek, tasting salty on your lips.
“Aww, not the tears.” Naoya guffaws, “You know m’not good with the tears.” Those ropes pinning your hands behind your back rub raw with your frantic movement, creaking and unstirring despite your best efforts. “Try and try all you want, sweetcheeks, but a failure of the Zenin clan will only be met with the appropriate consequences.”
A failure.
The words would’ve cut deep had they not been the very same ones spat at you at every clan meeting - the exact reason you didn’t accompany Toji to the one today. Toji, you think. Fuck, how you wished you’d have gone just this one time. 
Straightening your spine the best you could in this binding chair, you ask - firm, pretending for all the world to be as confident as you’re not. “What do you want from me?”
It’s as if your question is the biggest joke that every scowling man in this room had heard, and they all burst into wheezing, riotous laughter. Some even slapping their knees - even Naoya gives you a cold, leeringly gleeful grin, “Just as mouthy as he is, huh?” He turns back to the elders, “She’s asking what we want!”
You bristle at another bout of cackles, struggling to hiss out a strangled, “Well- well if you bastards just fucking told me-”
“An heir.” 
Fuck, you had a feeling it was this.
“What? You pussies get your rocks off by wondering about mine and Toji’s sex life?” you let out shrill laughter, mouth moving before your brain because fuck, if it was all going to end now, might as well spew out everything you’ve wanted to since you walked in here. You shake your woozy head, “Oh fuckin’ grow up, if the man himself wanted an heir then you’d know-”
Eyes enraged, he takes a heated step towards you, “You little-”
“Naoya.” The strained drawl of an elder you’d seen around the corridors stops him straight in his tracks, and Naoya gives the man a hasty, reluctant bow. “Finish it. Before he gets back.”
Those last few words splatter a few drops of panic into your words, and a few more exhausted tears stream down your face. 
“Heh, whatever.” he’s taking one last greedy lookover down your rattling figure. “Would’ve taken y’for myself if I didn’t think he’d kill me, sweetcheeks. What a shame.” Trailing off airily, he turns back towards where you spot another spiking glisten in the dark, a metallic twang! rings through the thick, musty atmosphere. “Who knows, maybe his next wife will actually listen to a thing or two.”
Next wife. 
You’re not sure why but the thought made your heart clench. And you’re gasping when he turns back around - silver katana in hand - trying to scream, yell, anything for help. But no sound comes out. 
Instead, all you can do is gape when Naoya crowds in menacingly closer, you can just hear the smile in his voice when he coos mockingly, “You’re much better when you shut up, doll.” You press your lips tightly together at the same, sullied use of Toji’s nickname for you - wondering how he would react to all of this. Wincing at the cutting whoosh! of the katana being raised up, up, up- “Any last wo-”
BANG!
You’re grimacing at the loud crashing of wood and panels, sliding doors ripped to shreds. And in the hazy cloud of dust you could make out the outline of a tall, heaving figure. Big arms swaying with his choppy breaths, he’s standing still - dangerous.
And even in the soft darkness, your unblinking gaze caught on his gleaming, feral smile, sharp canines bared like some beast. Eyes carnivorous, widened as he assesses the room like a predator lurking in on its prey.
The drop of fear hits you before the realization - Toji.
Letting out a strangled yelp, “T-Toj- mmpf!” Before cold, wrinkly fingers come up from behind to cover your mouth. But even the slightest sound of your voice has Toji’s form jolting - fingers twitching on the handle of his blade, like electricity zapped through his entire body, and you can hear the elder behind you take in an obvious gasp when his eyes lock onto the two of you. 
Finally. 
Toji’s lips part silently, and abruptly, you’re being let go of as if you burned. “You.” 
It happens so fast that you’re not even sure you imagined it, in a split-second, the long, jagged dagger in Toji’s hand is being flung right at his shivering target. . 
And you knew he won’t miss - he never will, because you’re not even blinking when a drawn-out groan of pain echoes from behind you. Followed by an echoing thud!
“My wife.” Toji’s rasping baritone sends goosebumps racing down your spine, you’re puffing in a quick inhale at just how close he sounds. Sure enough, when you look up, you’re met with softened sage eyes, and crooked beginnings of a smile. “My wife.” he breathes out, as if he still couldn’t really believe it. But any and all tenderness in his body bleeds away when Toji abruptly looks over his shoulder at the men crowding around the entrance with a thunderous glare, “Next.”
Naoya is the first to dare to speak - to even move. Yelling, “Y-y- do you even know who that- the crime it is to kill one of the elders-”
Fuck, you swear Toji looked elated at that, that savage grin still plastered on his face, he grits through clenched teeth, “Next.” 
Next. Next. Next. Next. 
It’s all that kept being laughed - laughed - out when Naoya activated his own cursed technique, absolutely nothing against Toji’s rampant ravaging. The thrum of jujutsu makes your head throb, and Toji’s steps sound deafening. Pressurized lunges towards the man himself, and before he can think - before he can even breathe - Naoya’s being pinned face-down on the tatami floor. Face stinging with the force of the stronger man’s foot on his head, pressing it underneath his wooden sandals. He speaks softly - as if talking down to a child - over the strained pop! pop! pop! of joints. “For taking my wife, for insulting the very soul of my soul.”
Toji wasn’t done, he wasn’t even stopping. He was out of control. Ready to kill. To break. 
And none of the elders could do anything - in fact, they fall fatally still onto their knees at Toji’s growing smile, the slow turn of his head. All knowing they were on the very brink of death himself. “Who’s next?”
Fatigue and relief hits you like a semi-truck - five of them, in fact. And you can feel your body drooping lower, vision tinging with black at the corners. Over the grotesque crunching of limbs, you think you could hear a faint, gruff laughter of, “Yeah, ya might wanna sleep this one out, doll.”
---
Toji never wanted to let you out of his sight. Never. 
And with you so vulnerable like this - dozing off gently on his silken bedsheets, body curling subconsciously into his benevolent hold - he thinks he never will.
Mellow, rounded tips of his thick fingers glide down your skin, sensitive from the hot water and the way he’d washed away every evidence of the blood and pain from just a few hours before. 
“I’m sorry.” Toji breathes, hushed, a thumb gliding away a stray droplet of water on the apple of your cheek. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-” He connects his forehead with your damp one, eyes fluttering shut. “I’m sorry. If I hadn’t come to see you early from the meeting- just knew something felt wrong.”
“Sorry for what, Toji?”
Your teasing tone of voice shocks him to his very core, and yet he can’t find it in himself to pull away - fuck, he can’t even dare open his eyes to look. “All of it.” he’s spitting out, tormentingly.
It takes you a while to find the words, “It’s- it’s not your fault.” you nod, a wet hand coming up to comb through Toji’s soft black tresses. “It’s neither of ours.”
There’s a few seconds of silence, in which he’s scrubbing non-existent beads of water off of you. Long strokes - slow, and purposeful - and you have to hold back your sudden yelp when it hits you that this was the first time that he saw you naked.
“But-” he falters, shaking his head - before thinking better of it. And you take the moment to appreciate just how gorgeous he is up close, every spike of pink in his worried lips, dark lashes kissing his high cheekbones. “But it’s over now, you can- you can go back to your clan.” he grimaces, still looking like he wanted to rip something - someone - apart. “The Zenin family is done.”
Done. 
“Toji.” you exhale, luring in your face so close to your husband’s. Too close. “Come with me. Fuck this Estate, fuck having an heir- and fuck the elders, if they’re not dead by now anyway.” They were - every single one - bodies piled high in the same room you were carried tenderly out of, you find out later. You steady onto your elbows on that unfamiliar mattress - Toji’s, you distinctly realize. And his brows crinkle upwards into an expression you’ve never seen on him before.
“I…”
“And-” A hand of yours wraps around his throat, nails digging into the racing pulse of his at the side of his milky neck. “-kiss me.”
Then he’s raising his eyes to look at you and fuck-
You were fucked. 
You might as well have just signed away your own will because here was the man that was covered in blood not too long ago, here he was with his lids hooded, pupils blown. “My wife.” he repeats that same mantra from before, lips parting like something so dark, visceral, was poked dangerously awake. Like he couldn’t quite believe it. His eyes flicker in a lingering triangle across both of your eyes, your lips. Just a hair’s breadth away. Straining out a raspy, “Oh fuck.”
Depraved - Toji’s lips are so depraved . And he’s drinking you in like all his bloodthirst from before had liquidated into pure need. 
You’re mewling when a large palm brushes over to cup your cheek, tilting that pretty head of yours to deepen the kiss. “Toji.”
You shouldn’t have done that - oh, you shouldn’t have done that. Because the sound of his own name in your syrupy sweet tone makes him jolt. Jolt. His entire body rumbles with a deep, wrenched-out growl, followed very closely by a loud slam! of Toji’s fist banging down on the nearby bedside table. Only later will you find that perfectly indented hole in the shape of his hand, splinters scattered across the floor. 
Like wanted to keep in control - needed to keep in control. But was failing - miserably. 
“F-fuuuuck-” he draws out huskily into your mouth, that tiny scar always at the corner of his mouth catching on your lower lip when he takes it between his. Sucking on that slick-glossed seam harshly, it almost hurt - but it hurt so good. “You have no idea- absolutely no fuckin’ idea how much I’ve wanted to do this.”
And suddenly you’re so painfully aware of the way your robe hadn’t been tied up properly, feeling the cinch of your sensitive nipples against his rich yukata, the warmth of all five of his long fingers splaying out just below the curve of your tits. 
You can feel his needy hips rutting into yours - such raw strength in the way he holds your own still so easily. Pushing right into the bullseye between your legs with the outline of his massive, heated bulge. Languid, delicious drags.
“Fuck we shouldn’t-” he cries out when you’re reeling him back in with his plump lip tucked beneath your teeth. “You need to-” Before he’s being tugged back in again. And again. And again and again like one taste of your candied lips and he was addicted. Barely able to choke out a single syllable before mashing them back onto yours. Gruffing out a deep rumble from the depths of his sculpted chest, “Shit- y’know why I didn’t do this sooner? Why I didn’t just fuck you right then and there in front of hngh- everyone whenever I wanted to? Because I knew-”
He cuts himself off with a convulsing shudder, pulling away just enough that you whine disappointedly. “I was gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”
“Couldn’t- hngh-” you’re mewling at the delicate little strings of syrupy spit snapping. Spying down at the way his yukata was disheveled now, displaying such delicious panes of warm skin for you. “Couldn’t have guessed.”
Toji’s brows raise at your slightly bratty tone, lips curling into such a sinful smirk that it makes your cunt throb so hotly, despite the slowly cooling water. His eyes darken - as if something snapped. “Oh- you’re gonna fucking regret that, ma.”
And something did -  maybe his whatever restraint he had left, probably you by the end of this.
In an instant, you’re seeing a flash of that man- that monster from before. Baring you the most vicious grin inhumanly possible, if you didn’t know any better you’d have wondered how high the death count would be. The hundreds? The thousands?
He’s worshiping down your body like an apology for all that transpired before, hot, wet brandings of his mouth across each and every inch of skin he could reach. It made you whimper, it made you feel the powerful hum of his strength at his fingertips, it made you need more more more-
All you can let out is a drawling moan when he unapologetically snaps! the hem of your panties onto your heated skin, “Don’t be such a t-tease.”
Oh, you were so weak against the dark head of the Zenin clan, against the way he circles his two hands around your ankles. Easily pulling - hauling you across the plush mattress like some ragdoll. 
Not even hesitating before ripping your poor yukata off your body, until you’re left spread so shamefully underneath him, Toji knocking down hard onto his knees before you. 
“Well- whatever my wife wants…” the same dangerous grin grows along his face, glinting white teeth bared where they held your flimsy excuse of panties between honed canines. He murmurs the final few words hovering over where you needed him the most,  “...no elder or god themself could stop me from giving you.” 
RIP—! 
It’s the last thing breathed out of his heaving lungs before your poor underwear is being torn off of you by his very mouth, not wasting a moment before spitting them out, and burying his face between your trembly thighs. Not even taking in one last gulp of air, not even thinking because all Toji Zenin knew was that he was going to fucking die if he didn’t taste your sweet sweet cunt right now. 
“Oh f-fuck-” he’s musing, sharp tongue stuttering for once in his life. “Fuck fuck fuck- fuck-” You’re yelping when your jelly-like legs are pliantly thrown over Toji’s broad shoulders, digging into the muscles of his deltoids. “Can’t believe you’ve been-” He trails off so deliriously, planting a hot, thick glob of spit on your spread pussy lips once. Twice. Smearing that glistening coat along your puffy folds with the fat of his thumb, “-been holdin’ out on me like this.”
“Shit- s’too much.” you’re whining at the slippery gloss of the mess he’s made down below leaking down your slit. Threading your fingers through his silky locks, “I wasn’t holding out on anything, y’know-”
His wide-eyed gaze was locked on your sloppily winking hole, circling the rim of that needy ring of muscle with his pointed index. “God…” his hot breath fans your dripping cunt, “You might just be my god. Didn’t wanna bring a kid into this family but you’re so- so sweet m’thinking it might not be too bad.”
Those words are barely even registered in your mind before his pretty pink lips wrap themselves around your throbbing clit. Handsome cheekbones hollowing, droopy eyes rolling to the back of his head when Toji sucks. Whirling his tongue erratically around the sensitive nub, such lewd little squelches ring in your ears. 
“T-Toji—” your purring moans only make him bury his face even deeper, nose pressing up against the edge of your sopping slit. And each thorough drag of your slobbering cunt down his face makes you knock against the end of his chin, so thirsty with the way he was making out with your cunt. Like he couldn’t get enough - never will. “Y-you were the one-” the heels of your feet move up higher to loop at his neck. “-holding out.”
And you knew that Toji the strongest of his clan - you knew it took more than a mere, barely-lucid tug to have him clashing even deeper into your pussy. 
But he does for you anyway. 
“Fuck- fuck you little-” Toji’s own heavy tongue betrays him with a throaty moan, and he looks so furious. Seething at the way he was pussydrunk already. Greedy gaze so crazed that you’re back to wondering how high the kill count would be- would they all even fit on the Zenin Estate? “-f tha’s what you fuckin’ want.”
“Wha- oh!” you yelp at the sheer burning stretch of your legs being pushed up, up, up until your knees were knocking against your tits. And Toji takes the shamefully spread opportunity to bully one rummaging finger past your swollen folds. “Oh fuck- you’re reaching so- so-”
“Finish it.”
It takes you a second to realize that Toji’s addressing you, his tone so jagged. Words muffled when he pants them out into your weeping cunt. 
He’s pulling out his finger - intentionally curving exactly against all those sweet spots mushed into your velvety walls - only to brand your poor clit with a sharp smack! “Finish that fucking sentence, ma.”
“-deep!” your hips are bucking up at another hefty intrusion, Toji’s fingers relentless inside your elastic wall. Molding out your insides to memorize every bump of his knuckles, every neat curve of his short fingernails. “So so- deep, Toji.” you whine, your shaky hands coming to rest at where you could feel him pumping in and out feverishly into hidden nooks and crannies of your sopping cunt. “C-can feel you right- here!”
This earns you another smack! gifted once again on your awaiting clit, but any and all irritation is swept away when he’s clashing his lips with yours down below in such a messy kiss. Meshing around the bulge of his own large fingers, tongue rolling placatingly over your glisteningly ravaged clit. Flicking, “Yeah- definitely my kind of fucking goddess.” His own free hand dances up to rest about midway up your stomach, pressing down. “M’gonna be in even deeper soon, y’know. Trust me.”
It’s at this moment that Toji’s exploratory fingers find their greedy way to your bulbous g-spot, immediately crashing into it - hard. 
There. There there there, you want to say - but you don’t have to, because he could tell. Could feel the vice-like grip of your slicked walls, the way it’s almost difficult to hammer back into your cunt. 
“Yeah yeah I got it-” he’s humming cockily, back to dragging his lips all over your clit senselessly all over. “All you hafta to do is- hah-” He’s being cut off by his own ravenous thirst, slurping mouth grinding even faster into your pretty pussy. And all you can hear are those syrupy squelches and the smacking of Toji’s mouth, your whining ah! ah! ah! following with every push of his fingers forming around your gummy walls. Curling deftly to massage all your sweetest spots he’s already mapped out so scarily well. “-ahh fuck- can’t get enough. Would kill them all over again just for a single taste of this. Would kill everyone- burn down this entire fuckin’ city.”
You didn’t doubt it, and Toji didn’t let you - not for a single second. 
Because he was almost violent in his approach, bruisingly pushing apart your legs further and further with each sloppy, stumbling second. Looking up at you with his wild gaze, with such a feral grin you could feel along every crevice of your overwhelmed cunt. 
“Can tell ya liked that-” he’s huffing out a surprised bout of laughter, “Ohhh- ya like that very much, huh?”
His tongue was alternating between ravaging your clit and brushing against the teasing edge of your entrance now. Over and over. And you’re gifted with another imprinting smack! onto your quivering cunt - and another and another and another until you’re all but sobbing out such a broken, “Toji- m’so close, fuck- m’gonna cum, m’gonna cum–”
“Then cum f’me, my wife.”
It only takes a few more messy rams of Toji’s fingers knuckle-deep into your eagerly swallowing pussy until you’re crashing so aggressively into your high. Wave after wave of white-hot pleasure running down, down, down your spine and into where he was relentlessly stuffing your convulsing pussy. 
Fucking you over and over through your orgasm, the pretty sight of you so splayed out and ruined makes Toji’s mouth water. He feels like a damn dog with the way his tongue lolls out, grin widening, he murmurs absent-mindedly, “Yeah- wouldn’t be bad at all. Swear you’re gonna be the end of my sanity.”
Fuck, you shamelessly ogle the way his dark robe falls down his broad shoulders, revealing so many dips and curves of muscle after muscle. He was so large - so meticulously sculpted that your restless legs fasten around Toji’s slenderly toned waist, drawing him close until your bare chests were rubbing up against one another. “Heh- you don’t get to hold out on me anymore, doll.”
It sounded almost like a threat - but your bleary, orgasm-drunk mind only has the chance to wonder what exactly he would do if you did. If you didn’t give him - the one head of the Zenin clan that didn’t get everything he wanted handed to him on a silver platter since birth - the one thing he would kill for. Die for. 
You. 
So you’re smiling drunkenly, head tilted to one side, “What are you gonna do about it?”
Toji doesn’t answer - doesn’t even bother to. And the only response you’re getting is a strained laugh - delirious almost, like the mere thought of that was enough to shred away whatever was left of his sanity.
And yours - clearly - because in that very moment, Toji lets his throbbing cock finally spring out, smacking against his abs to leave a glisteningly wet smear of precum. So so angry, his fat weeping tip lets out another wave of syrupy precum at the chill of the heady air. 
Shit - he was big. 
Long, long shaft blending so prettily from a feverish red at his tip to the tan skin behind those tufts of black at his happy trail. Veins pulsing, girthy enough that you’re wondering back to his kill count, thighs twitching nervously to a close. 
“No- no no-” you could tell his tone was trying to veer into scolding, but you caught the way it cracks with so much raw need. “Don’t you fuckin’-” His hands just wrench your knees back open, green eyes just aflame at this point. “-dare.” 
His pointed smile was so dripping wet with your sweet sweet juices from before, trickling in a sloppy trail all the way from the glossy corners of his lips, down to his chin. And his eyes follow the splattering, thick puddle on your collarbone. 
“Oh-” Toji’s mouth falls into a wicked gasp, immediately, he’s surging forward to pool the syrupy mess on his hot tongue. “Heh- guess we really are just now consummating our marriage, huh?”
The movement causes his painfully rock-hard cock to just kiss at your puffy pussy lips, just mashing the fat round tip of his length between your slit. Teasing. So fucking filthy. 
“Toji-” you’re wrenching him by his dark hair to pant into his open mouth, like a mantra. “More- need more- fuck I need-”
“More?”  His shuddering rap is barely even audible, ringing straight to your very heated core, because he sounded so wrecked. So fucking utterly ruined. Voice a few octaves higher in disbelief, “My pretty girl wants my cock? Fuckin’ want-” And then it’s like all the air is being knocked out of your lungs - literally. Feeling as if you’re being split apart so sinfully so, “more?”
You couldn’t have answered if you’d wanted to - because Toji Zenin was fucking ruthless. Just as mean as those greedily lingering juts of his hips, pushing and pushing his massively rotund length past your first snug channel of muscle. 
But that didn’t matter, because your slutty cunt was speaking more than enough for the both of you - or at least that’s what Toji mutters, over and over when he pushes in jutting, unrhythmic jabs to squeeze himself deeper inside you. 
“Oh- oh my god–” you’re batting your heavy eyelids open to take in the way your overstuffed pussy just bulges around him. Lips spread so widely it was like they were conforming to each ridge and vein down Toji’s fat cock, beading a glossy sheen down every inch by fucking inch you were being fed. “So much- fuck, don’t know if I can take it.”
Toji Zenin would rather die than not have his pretty wife all overfilled with cock if that’s what it takes him. 
And by the way your teary eyes grow wider, he suspects his pussydrunk mind might’ve just babbled that out loud. “Heh…didn’t I tell ya, ma?” His low whisper puffs hotly against your ear, tugging tensely on your earlobe. “M’gonna fucking ruin ya.”
And it’s times like this that it’s so clearly impossible to forget that Toji is inhumanly human - that you are so unfairly nothing in a match up against him.
CRACK!
Because with one, harsh ram of his sharp hip bones smacking against the globes of your ass - every solid inch of his intimidating cock is slammed against your tightly cushioning walls. It’s such a ravaging intrusion and you swear you could feel him everywhere. Feel him thrumming hotly against sweet spots inside you that you didn’t even know existed. Finally, buried all the way to his thick hilt, yet still nuzzling his hips upwards for more-
“S’broken.” Toji muses, and for a second you didn’t know if he was talking about you or the suspiciously sagging bed. “Plan B.” 
It takes only two seconds for his beefy arms to pick you up as if you were weightless - god, he was treating you like some object. And the only time he’s not enveloped by your heavenly cunt is when you’re being shoved down like some slut onto the cool mahogany of Toji’s work desk, his firm front pressing up against your arched back.  
“Plan C is to just fuck you into the floor until it breaks.” he snorts throatily into your ear. 
And you wondered whether it was a joke - you hoped it was a joke. You almost half-believed it until he was back to bulldozing his plump tip back into your briefly-neglected cunt. Stretching the clingy rim of muscle to bend to his round length, fully. Oh, he’ll never get used to this sight. 
Yeah, you definitely weren’t making it out alive. 
“F-fuck you really are-” One hand of yours scrambles to blindly white-knuckle the smooth wood beneath you when Toji’s bludgeoning your pussy with powerful, long thrusts. Feeling every minute flex of his thick thighs behind your own, shuddering with each forceful hammer of his sweeping cock inside you. “-you really are in so deep.”
As if to confirm, the man himself glides down an open palm to your stomach. Pressing down hard with all five splayed-out fingers until Toji could feel the same incessant slam of his thumping cockhead, the cascading ripple of his heavy, cum-filled balls smacking against your ass. 
“Told ya- hah told ya so.” his cocky groans are whirling all throughout your mind, such a hot, melty mess with the sheer fucking stretch of Toji’s cock. “Y’know…I can’t help but imagine just how pretty you’d hngh- look all stretched out n’ swollen as a momma.”
You’re nodding deliriously, and the way his crashing thrusts were just bruising against your spongy cervix, bouncing off onto every sweetly hidden sensitive spot inside your elastic walls. “Shit- ya jus’ got wetter- ya like that? The thought of me fuckin a baby into ya?” he spits, long sloppy tongue coming up to taste the dredges of tears streaming down your face- shit, when did you even start crying? 
“Shh shhh- don’t cry–” he’s cooing, rewarding you with another heavy smack! right onto your poor clit. Every steady clash against your over-sensitive g-spot only sends a fresh wave of big fat tears for Toji to kiss at. “-don’t cry, don’t cry. Never f’me, m’never hah- gonna kill off anything that makes my pretty wife cry-” A soft, salty peck on your lips, “-n’ that includes me. If ya asked me to, ma. I’ll give ya anything you ever want.”
There’s a creaking slam! on the wooden surface, and a hasty look over your shoulder shows that Toji has hiked his knee up onto the desk. For a second, you wonder whether it hurt - whether the throbbing shaft of his cock wasn’t rubbed raw by now, whether his abs weren’t just burning with movement. Fucking you so recklessly into the desk.
But oh, you think Toji Zenin would care?
You think he would give a fuck about anything other than rutting riotously into your gripping cunt? Drilling into you again and again until your tip-toes don’t even reach the ground at the force of his pressurized thrusts. The change in angle has his leaky tip glide glossy lines right across the bottom of your dripping pussy and pressing down harshly onto your g-spot. So rough. So mean. You’re scrambling further and further up the desk and-
“Now now-” Toji hoists your weak hips up ever-so-slightly back to him, before pinning you to the desk with his full, heavy bodyweight. “No running away. Heh…how funny would it be if I actually did jus’ hngh- fuck a baby into ya right now?” His fingers get so sloppy on your clit, “Fill ya up- rub an heir right in everyone’s faces?”
“Shit- m’so close- again-” Your ears are popping at the pure saturated stimulation when his hand down below rolls over your clit. Desperate. Depraved. Glossing up the curve of his thick thumb with all the sweet slick beading out with each broken thrust. It’s like he was out of control - losing his fucking mind. And your delirious mind wondered whether you’d be next, that faint cracking of joints certainly not boding well for either of you. “Toji, m’gonna-”
He’s so erratic - sloppy. And so it only makes sense that your orgasm was the same - fuck, you didn’t even realize it at first.
So hard that your vision flashes red and white, breathing raggedly gasping in lungfuls as you rock your sticky hips back into Toji’s so greedily. Your voice is shot - because you’re moaning Toji’s name so loud that it almost felt disrespectful, echoing across the sex-thickened air. “Tha’s right- scream as loud as you want, ma. It’s just us in this house.”
And maybe it was that - maybe it was the feeling of your velvety walls clamping down hard around his achy length - maybe it was just the way you’re whispering out such saccharine sweet, “Cum inside.”
Because Toji’s fractured sanity can only handle a few more unkindly bullying drives into your gushing cunt before he’s cumming and cumming so much he thinks he might die. 
Doesn’t know if he can - if he wants to - stop.
“Oh- ohhh fuck- didn’t think I’d actually-” You feel a branding bite inside the crook of your neck as his sloppy white seed splatters at your inner thigh with each rummaging thrust forward. Oozing down in messy, thick dredges. “-hngh- gonna fill you up so good- until you can’t take it anymore.” You didn’t know if you already could - because you felt so full. Toji’s syrupy cum sloshing around with each ram of his hips, coating your walls in a creamy, slick-like sheen on the inside. 
“Yes–” you sigh over another splintering crack! from somewhere, “Fuck fuck fuck- need you to- hngh, wanna make you a daddy- give you an heir, To-”
It’s as if he couldn’t bear to hear your swollen lips part with his name, because Toji’s shutting you up with a sweltering kiss. Still mounted and rutting into you so animalistically, “the best- the best momma, you’re gonna be the best momma-” he hushes into your mouth. Pliantly kneading your body into a sinful arch for him, you barely even register it when he’s carrying you away. Two thick fingers pooling his glistening cum, inching them back into your stretched-out cunt - “Don’t waste a single drop now- hngh- fuck, you’ll look so pretty all full.”
Before you know it, you’re being sprawled out so easily on the clean tatami mats below, face down, your hips being propped up by one of Toji’s. And in your bleary peripheral vision, you could just about make out how ruined that desk was - how broken. How the fuck haven’t either of you broken any bones, yet?
Or maybe you have - you wouldn’t even know at this point, because Toji was still slamming into your poor, overspilling pussy again. His harsh grunt puffs out in a feverish breath against your ear, “Told ya I was gonna ruin you, doll. Better get ready-” He’s punctuating each word with a sloppy, sold thrust, pace picking up to fuck you so thoroughly into the floor. “Because I have a Plan D and a Plan E until m’sure you’re givin’ me an heir.”
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A/N. Ooo what if I made a clan leader series? Thoughts?
Plagiarism not authorized.
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oliviawebsite · 4 months ago
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Disabled Trans Girl Needs Help with Rent and Moving Costs!
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hi i'm making a new post for my ongoing attempt (u know how it is with diminishing visibility) to raise funds for paying my last month of rent at the current place and covering the cost of moving about 500 miles away. after that point, things will be a lot smoother and i won't have to beg for help so much but for now I just need help getting across that finish line. I have one more month of rent that I am obligated to pay at my current location, which is about ~860 usd. besides that, i just need enough to get food for my last few days at this location and to help pay for van rental/gas. its been hard but i have a wonderful opportunity ahead of me and i just need some help. through a year of sickness and pain and exhaustion, i can see this tumultuous phase of my life coming to an end. i love everyone who has helped me get here and i am hoping to be the one donating rather than begging in the near future. every little bit helps. i know we're all going thru a lot but i appreciate even the smallest drop in the bucket
0/1300
and as always i love it when people buy my music:
thank you for everything <3
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luveline · 1 year ago
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What about a lil fic of the first time bombshell reader gets mad at Spencer? Like it can be while they r dating or before and May be r is giving Spencer quiet treatment?
ty for requesting! ♡ fem, 1.3k
Spencer waits for Morgan to get up for a coffee before he gets up himself, tailing his teasing teammate to the microwave. He's hoping Morgan's in a sympathetic mood today, because Spencer is in dire need of some sympathy. 
"Loverboy," Morgan says, his voice steeped in suspicion. "Can I help you with something?"
"Do you know why Y/N's upset?" 
"You don't? You're the expert." 
Spencer rubs at his nose, the beginning of another migraine brewing between his eyes. The gesture draws a little more empathy than his misguided question. 
"You're gonna have to ask her yourself. I don't want her angry at me too, she's gonna fix my computer before Garcia finds out I fell for her phishing email test." 
"I've been asking her. It's making it worse. She won't answer my questions anymore. She just hums." 
"Silent treatment. Yikes." Morgan sips his tea through a grimace. "I mean, you must've done something bad. She's usually so–" 
"Lovely?" 
"–in love with you." Morgan laughs as he wanders off in the direction of the stairs up to Hotch's office. "Same thing."
Spencer decides to make a cup of bribery tea for you. He microwaves a mug of hot water and plunks a bag of your favourite blend in without ceremony, bobbing it up and down as he watches you from over his shoulder. You've moved desks upon request to sit with the rest of the team and opposite Spencer (against Hotch's self-proclaimed better judgement), your things set carefully in contrast to his books, a library's worth teeming on every spare inch. Some have even made their way onto your desk, pristinely stacked in wait of his perusal. It's one small gesture among the hundreds of kind things you do for him. 
"Here," he says, setting the mug down next to your mouse carefully. 
Your anger strikes him. Eyes frosted with an uneasiness he's not partial to, lips, so perfectly painted, screwed into a frown. It's not nice seeing someone he cares about upset with him, worse when he has no idea what it is he's done. 
"You're annoyed at me," he says. You wait for him to continue. "I don't know what I did." 
"That makes it worse." You frown at him. After a few seconds of this—your frowning, his looking sorry and confused— you sigh wretchedly (as in, he's never heard you sound that sad, ever, and he hates it). "Spencer, you stood me up." 
Everything in him goes cold. "No I didn't." 
Your sad frown melds again to anger. "Yes you did! I– I got my hair done at a salon, I bought a new dress, I bragged to all of my friends that my cute coworker was gonna be my date, and none of that mattered because you didn't text me back so I was worried sick all night that you were," —your voice drops to a private whisper— "in trouble somewhere, and then you come into work like nothing happened? Not even a hint of an apology? I thought you wanted to come."  
Your voice burns with embarrassment. Spencer can feel it in his throat, that plucky ache of someone letting you down. 
"That was last night?" he asks quietly. A friend asked you to their charity ball, not as ridiculously fancy as it sounds but an occasion of esteem and important to you nonetheless. "Y/N, I thought that was– I have it in my phone as next month. As November. I'm so sorry." 
"Why didn't you answer my texts?" 
He winces. "I had a migraine… Screens make it worse, and I haven't charged the battery yet because I was coming to work anyways I'm sorry, Y/N, really. I mixed it up. I should've asked you." 
You seem less disheartened at his admission. You cross your arms over your abdomen and lean back a touch in your chair, as if deciding whether he's being truthful. Spencer isn't in the habit of lying to you and anybody could tell you that, so after a few seconds you look away. "I asked you if you were excited yesterday morning. I told you my dress came."  
"I know." He can't believe he's gotten it wrong like this. Anyone can make a mistake, but he imagines you in your new dress with your hair done waiting for him in the cold weather that descended on Virginia last night and his guts twist into a knot. "I didn't piece it together. I didn't… I didn't…" 
Spencer can't remember the last time he let someone he loves down like this. His migraine spikes again like a needle in the eye, fiery agony that has him closing his eyes to cope. 
"Spencer," you say, softly admonishing. "Hey, it's okay." Your chair creaks.
"I'm so sorry," he says through his teeth. 
"I thought you were being a jerk, but I guess I should've known you wouldn't do something like that." You stand up and take his elbow into a very gentle hand. "I'm sorry for giving you the cold shoulder. It was childish. I was just hurt thinking you did it on purpose." 
"Sorry," he says again. "Migraine." 
Your hand rises to his cheek. "Yeah? Sit down, Spence. Take a breather." 
The doctors say that Spencer's migraines are psychosomatic. He doesn't get how something so odious can start from nothing. 
You seem twice as upset but in a different light, ushering him down into your chair. "Don't worry," you say softly, your hand falling into his hair, "I took a great picture. You can still see me in my nice dress." 
You're kidding but he's genuinely glad. Then the pain takes over and he can't see the other side of it for years. 
It only feels like years. 
When he can open his eyes, you've knelt by his chair. He hates to see you getting your pants dirty like that, hates worse that your eyebrows have pinched and the soft plane of your forehead has etched deep with concern. 
"You can still be mad at me," he says under his breath. 
"I'm a little upset," you confess, putting an uncharacteristically tentative hand on his knee. "It sucked, but not as much as this seems to suck for you." You're like an angel, all pretty and wide-eyed at his feet, your hand beginning a short path up his leg, a soft back and forth. "I'm sorry Spencer. I was punishing you for something that wasn't your fault." 
"You didn't know. How could you, I–" He winces as another wave of pain flares behind his eye, blurring your small smile. "I should've charged my phone." 
"Maybe. I can't imagine you had the capacity, Spence. Not if you're like this." 
"Don't just forgive me because I'm in pain." 
"I'm not, I'm forgiving you because even though it really hurt my feelings turning up alone, I'm not cruel enough to blame you now." You squeeze his knee. It's an instant balm, the chronic ache behind his eyes easing ever so slightly. Your forgiveness makes the rest bearable. "Can you forgive me for being so heartless?" you ask lightly. 
Your lips curve demurely around each word. Spencer scrambles to cover your hand with both of his, his neck craned forward. "Of course I forgive you." 
"Thank you." Spencer could collapse. "Drink some of this tea, okay? Maybe drinking something will help."  
Nothing ever helps, but he does it because it's your hands bringing the cup to his lips. 
"I know you looked beautiful," he says between sips. 
"I would've looked better on your arm. Too bad you're getting grievously attacked by your own brain. This is what happens when it gets too big, babe, it's trying to come out of your ears." He's a little sorry to have won you back this way, but mostly so, so relieved. "Anymore of this'll and you'll start messing up the months. Oh, wait!" You laugh as he laughs but soon scramble to apologise when the sound makes his head hurt. "Sorry, I'm sorry! Drink some more tea, sweetheart." 
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lunaritex · 28 days ago
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𓏲࣪ ִֶָ ︎ִֶָ LIGHTS, CAMERA AND LOVE 𖤐. — nishimura riki
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↺ CONTENT: idol au, both reader and riki are idols, reader is female, brief tooth-rotting fluff.
↺ FROM HYE: this was inspired after watching his artist of the month video heh…
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“Hello everyone. I’m (Name) and today, I’m on the set of Studio Choom to film the video for the Artist of the Month,” you introduced yourself, clapping and bowing a little as you sat on the chair provided by the staff. 
“(Name), how does it feel to be chosen as the Artist of the Month?” 
Laughing, you shyly tucked your hair behind your left ear. “Ah, to be honest, I’m not that confident in my dancing abilities. So I was quite shocked when I heard I got selected. But thank you so much for the opportunity provided to me. I will show my best self for everyone and my fans.” 
“Can you tell us what you have prepared for us?”
Humming, you slung your left leg over your right as you rested your hands on your left knee. “I’ve chosen to perform two songs: Rude Boy by Rihanna and Work it by Missy Elliot. I have gone with hip hop and pop, as I always wanted to try dancing to these kinds of songs. And I like challenging myself to new things too.” 
“How would you rate the choreography?” 
You purse your lips, pondering over it before answering. “If you know Pass the Mic by ENHYPEN, take their choreography and multiply it by… three times? It’s quite hard and it took me a while to master it.” 
“Speaking of ENHYPEN, how long have you been dating Nishimura Riki?” 
You gasped, taken aback by the sudden question about your love life. Your face flushed red when you heard the staff laugh at your embarrassment. “We’ve been together for about six months now, and our monthly anniversary is coming tomorrow. Which is also the day the video will drop too. I hope everyone looks forward to it-?” 
You paused when you saw a familiar figure entering the place. You ignored how you were in the middle of an interview, face brightening at the sight of your beloved boyfriend entering. You excitedly waved as Riki got closer. He chuckled, leaning down to press a loving kiss on your forehead as he stood beside you. Due to him being too tall, the camera was not able to capture his face. 
“What are you doing here? I thought you’re still busy with your schedule,” you asked, having to tilt your head up to look at him. 
“We ended early and I decided to surprise you. Although, it looks like you’re in the middle of something,” he sounds sheepish, but the staff merely shrugged his apology off. 
You giggled, leaning against him and faced the camera. “Now that my boyfriend’s here, maybe we should hear some encouraging words from him. Right, Riki?”
“Huh? Why are you suddenly interviewing me?” His eyes widened, not expecting you to change the direction of the interview just like that. You laughed at his reaction, pulling at his hand. 
“Come on, just say a few words!” You begged. 
Sighing, he bent slightly to reveal his face to the camera. “Hello, I’m Nishimura Riki from ENHYPEN. Uh, I don’t have much to say but please show lots of love and support to (Name)’s performance video. It drops tomorrow and I can tell she has put in a lot of effort into making the video. Thanks.” 
“Before we end, could we have the both of you do a dance together?” 
“Aish, I knew there was something else after this,” Riki mischievously wagged his finger at the staff, eliciting a round of amused laughter from them. 
You chuckled, rising to your feet. “Sure, how about we cover Riki’s dance on Studio Choom? The Artist of the Month video and we can do the moment of the video where it's most replayed.” 
“Don’t tell me…” Riki’s voice trailed off, recognition flickering across his face when he saw one of the staff handing both of you sunglasses. 
“Yup.” 
Both of you got into position. Once the music started, the staff were amazed with how in sync you were with one another. Your facial expressions were on point, easily matching the vibes of the song. Thankfully, you did not have to perform the whole choreography and instead, only showcase five minutes of it. When it ended, you were panting and catching your breath. 
“Since when did you learn it?” Riki asked, amazed as he ran a hand through his hair. 
“It was meant to be a surprise, but I guess it’s out of the bag now,” you sheepishly scratched your head, squeaking when he embraced you in a hug, his taller frame hiding you from the camera. The staff took it as a cue to end the recording, wanting to give the couple their much-needed alone time. 
Seeing this, Riki took it as his cue to squish your cheeks with his hands. You made a noise of protest but he ignores it, sniggering at your offended expression. He could no longer hold back, leaning down to give you a searing kiss on your lips. Before you could react, he had pulled away. A satisfied smirk appeared on his face at the sight of your dazed look. 
“You’re so cute,” he teased. 
“Riki!”
Needless to say, the video did well and most of the comment sections were filled with people squealing over your relationship. 
‘(Name) and Riki are so cute together! And the way they are in sync with one another is so cool! Truly the power duo we need.’
‘Forget Riki, I want (Name) instead.’
‘The part where they threw their sunglasses at the same time… chefs kiss.’ 
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cherryheairt · 14 days ago
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Hidden Truths pt.2
Cregan x wife!reader
named reader no description, from house Glover
masterlist
part 1
thank y'all so much for the kind words and eagerness to see this part. Please forgive me for not replying to all asks being sent to inbox, you'll understand with the chap lol. The pressure was so real I had planned to write other things between pt 1 and 2 but I dropped everything to do this between work and sleep lol
changed the og ending because so many people thought it would be more fitting and I agreed lol
anon pointed out my mistake on glover and bolton im so sorry for that confusion yall it is meant to be glover originally. i made too many mistakes im a mess rn
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Ernest makes it to Cregan's solar first, Ron not far on his heels. Panting, the younger speaks up first when Cregan Stark shoots them a bewildered look whilst hunched over his oak desk.
"Was Lady Stark due for some business today, My Lord?" He asked, catching his breath as Cregan sat up in his seat, attention fully on the guards.
"Not any that I'm aware of. Where is my wife?" He asked, glancing outside of his small window to the blistering storm outside. There was no way she would be anywhere except her chambers—not after he caught her soothing Brandon to sleep. The sight had melted his heart immediately, glad to see his wife finally finding it in her to go see him, to give him a chance.
Though, he could not blame her, of course. He could still remember the day he brought the Stark babe home, and how he dreaded the meet throughout his months of journeying home to Winterfell.
Aelys had been on the forefront of his mind, even through the slimy politicking of King's Landing. The wait was only made ever longer by the fact that the party Cregan traveled North with had to wait until Brandon was old enough to travel, too. Moons went by painstakingly slow, and Cregan moved to load the carriage for the boy as soon as the Maester gave his word that Bran would not be suseptible to the outdoors during long durations on the road.
Cregan dismounted his grey mare, patting her on the neck in thanks before the stable boy guided her back to her designated place. With a tense sigh, he rolled his shoulders and opened the carriage door that held Brandon and his new wet nurse. Sara, his older sister, would join the family in a few short weeks while she continued her stay at the Blackwood's. He wished she was here to console his wife in the coming days. Gods know that he cannot, not when the news of his betrayal had to come from his own mouth. As he promised himself it should be. The sinner should say his own penance, no one else. A Stark is a slave to his oaths.
Thanking Greya kindly, Cregan picked up Bran in his arms. His onyx black curls shifted against the crook of his arm as he shifted the babe to be held better. The four moon-old babe fussed as he was removed from the woman's comforting hold. As if was, Cregan was more of a stranger to the young babe than his wet nurse was. Unfortunately, the Lord had not spent the amount of time with him as he knew he should have. The thoughts and guilt racked up in his mind and burned at the back of his throat every day, leaving Cregan to promise himself that in Winterfell he would spend more time with him.
Another promise for the list.
Cregan stepped through the courtyard's archway, holding his breath as he watched his beautiful wife standing by the Keep's doors, shivering but still insisting that she come out to meet her husband. Her smile was as lovely and bright as he remembered, a much more contented and relieved smile than she had sent him off to battle with. That day, she could hardly stifle her tears back as she hugged him 'goodbye'. He felt quite the same. Cregan would never leave for Southern business again, not in his lifetime. Once had been enough to last generations, though he was sure the Stark family would not go too long before being summoned again.
Her face shifted from joy to confusion in a matter of seconds. As Cregan continued straight towards her, Bran bundled up in so many wools and pelts that it entirely engulfed the babe. She lifted her skirts to step down to meet him. Originally, Cregan had wished to scoop her up in his arms and place a sweet kiss on her cold lips, but the bundle between them prevented such things. He could not greet her so sweetly and then present the bastard to her. Ripping the bandage off a fresh wound, Cregan would not be deceitful for longer than he had been during his moons of silence in the South.
"Husband," She smiled, reaching out to touch his chilled face, pink in the cheeks and ears from exposure. "You should come inside. A feast has been prepared for you—and your men, of course." She was antsy on her feet, eager to get inside to proper reunite with her husband, no bystanders gawking.
Speaking of bystanders—Cregan's entire party had separated and dispersed around the courtyard. They met their own wives, parents, or children as they laughed and conversed. Though, the loud and joyous clamor soon died down when whispers had been spread around by those who already knew of Cregan's boy. Wives that knew Aelys well stared in pity, clutching their shawls to their chests and shaking their heads quietly at their Lord.
He fought the urge to hang his head.
She had not yet seen the babe, only the cloth surrounding him.
"Cregan?" She whispered, tilting her head with concerned eyes. "What is wrong?" His sweet, sweet wife. Her first priority had been him over anything since the days of their honeymoon—the days she had confessed to be extremely anxious about during their courtship. She was a Northern woman herself, hardened and shaped like an ice sculpture but retaining her warm heart and spirit. Cregan had intimidated her greatly, according to her giggling confession, and she had feared he may be a cruel and selfish man since he could easily do as he wished to his Lady wife. He proved her wrong, apparently, getting to know his wife throughout their private honeymoon. They had a bond like no other, always at each other's side and filling in for the weaknesses of the other during their duties as leaders.
Cregan's brow furrowed deep, blinking away as he felt his nose start to sting.
Only then, when his glossy eyes met hers silently, did she glance down to the cloths. Slowly reaching up a shaky, gloved hand adjusted the pelts so she could peer past them. Gasping at the pale babe, Aelys' eyes sharply met his. A million thoughts raced through her head, clearly showing in her facial expressions. Not assuming the worst, as she probably should have done, Aelys asked, "has one of your men died? Is this babe an orphan?" Always so trusting of her Lord husband, something Cregan had admired and was eternally grateful for throughout their marriage.
"Aelys..." He cleared his throat when his voice came out much too quiet and hoarse. "This is my son." He declared to her, and to the onlooking crowd who did not bother hiding scandalized gasps.
Her eyes blinked in rapid succession, shaking her head lightly and smiling. "Don't jest, Cregan. We have no son."
His silence met her words. When he did not cave and admit to messing with his wife, Aelys shook her head more firmly. "No." She said, whispering. Her eyes clamped shut as she breathed in and out deeply, only opening to glance down at the babe, scrutinizing its appearing and comparing every freckle to Cregan's. "Don't do this to me, please. You would never do this to me." Her words were nearly lost to the air.
"It was one time, I swear it on my honor and Stark name." Cregan told her.
"On your name?" She harshly bit, stepping away from Cregan as if he had burned her. "Your honor? You swore on your honor the day we said our vows under the Weirwood tree. Under OUR Gods. Did that mean nothing to you? Did I—" She gasped out, covering her mouth with the back of her hand and clutching her stomach. A choking sob rippled through her, and Greya stepped forward to gingerly take Brandon from Cregan's grasp. His arms fell to his side, clenching as he stopped himself from holding his wife in comfort. She could find no solace in the man who hurt her so.
"I thought you wished to wait. You told me you wanted it, too. Was it just not me you wanted a family with?" She asked, cranking her neck up to look at her shameful husband.
"Aelys, I did—I do!" He started, stepping forward to wipe a hot tear from her cheek.
Flinching away from his touch, she looked up at him with the same mistrust and solemn acceptance that he found in a dying prey's eyes. Suddenly, Aelys looked to become aware of the crowd. Glancing around self-consciously, she straightened herself upright like the people expected of a Lady Stark. "The feast is growing cold. Enjoy it while it's warm." She loudly adressed the weary party and their families, who awkwardly moved to shuffle inside the dining hall. With a final glance past Cregan's shoulder to the wet nurse, Aelys was gone.
Seeing the shared glances of horror between the two, Cregan cleared his throat. "Where is my wife, boys?"
Ernest swallowed harshly, not daring to look him in the eye. "She—she said that she 'ad business in Winter Town. That you approved of it, I swear!"
Ron nodded so quickly that his head of curls messed about and framed his face further. The snow still on their heads and shoulders had now melted in the warmth of the Great Keep, reminding Cregan of the harsh weather the guards had to bear all day. They were trained and honed for such conditions, Aelys was not.
"Yes, Lord Stark! We couldn't disobey our Lady's words." He insisted.
"You think I'd make my wife go settle business in Winter Town during a blizzard?" He growled out, standing from his seat and storming between them to his doorway, where he turned on them and saw them both flinch in shock. "Which way did she go?"
"Uhm..." they shared another glance. "She said Winter Town, Lord Stark. What other way would she have gone?"
Cursing, Cregan grabbed Ice and lifted the great sword to his shoulder. He left without another word to anybody, knowing every second counted when it came to finding her. "Bloody fools." He scoffed to himself, mind turning and thinking of places she might head to.
Clearly, not Winter Town. She had no business there, not that he knew of, and although they had not been speaking these past moons he still oversaw all of her duties as Lady. Though, her reports of dealings and responsibilities was done through the Maester rather than her own mouth. A middleman, the poor elder had become. Cregan endured the silence without complaint, knowing his own actions brought it upon him.
His actions brought her further away from him than he perhaps estimated. He knew the babe would tear a rift in their relationship, and knew it would take a long time before they could even begin to mend it—but he never wanted it to go this far.
Back to her childhood home, to the Glovers in the Motte? Or, perhaps she found a secret lover that would meet her in the storm like a destined and tragic fairytale. He would not blame her for seeking love in another, though his never faded.
His quickened pace was only interrupted by Sara. "What is the rush for, brother?" The elder woman asked, dark brows furrowed with concern. Other the past four moons she had gained her strength back, looking the picture of health now that she was back home and recovering. Cregan could barely meet her gaze, looking between her and the doors ahead.
"My wife is gone." He told her honestly, shifting impaitiently in place. "I don't know where to, but I'm going to search for her."
Sara's dark eyes saddened, face scrunching up in grief. "This is my fault. I should have—"
Cregan stopped her immediately, taking her firmly by the shoulders and dipping his neck down to level himself. "No. It is mine alone. I made the choice to do this, I shall face the consequences of my actions."
"Cregan..." she sniffed, but did not allow tears to fall so easily.
"I'll be back." He promised. "With my wife."
Was she running away?
Cregan swung open the Great Keep's door, blinking staggardly at the wind gust that slammed into him. Not bothing to close it behind him, Cregan stormed to the stables and tacked his horse up. In a matter of minutes he was off and out of Winterfell's expansive walls.
His only option was to head towards Glover territory. It was a two days ride normally, but the storm would make it double or perhaps longer. She would not be far ahead, not even two hours ahead of Cregan and unknowing of how close he might be on her trail.
There were not even hoofprints left in her wake. The snow immediately covered all tracks and left only pristine fields of white powdery frost.
He would not know where she was until he spotted her amongst the white. Cobalt, her black stallion, was sure to stand out within close enough distance.
Until he did see her, he could only wait.
And it was exactly that; a waiting game. Cregan took only three days to reach the Deepwood Motte, faster than he anticipated. He was weary and exhausted, but still pumping with adrenaline and awake off sheer will. Here, in the safe walls of Harriston Glover's keep, his mare could finally have more than a few measly hours of rest, as well as food and water.
His fingers and toes burned with the edges of frostbite. Even in his thick protective gear, he was not entirely safe. The few, small fires that he built for himself in the cold nights gave him only a semblance of warmth. Each step felt like five as his vision blurred and weaned in and out. He steadied himself on a pole, waiting for his father-in-law to come downstairs to greet him. And, if luck be on his side, his Lady wife.
He owed more than an apology.
Harriston was a stern man, though not unreasonable. He loved his children and ensured they had only the best; education, caretakers, spouses. His eldest two children married long before Aelys was even of age to be wed, both men marrying Northern girls that they'd grown up with. When it came to his youngest and only girl, the man knew Lord Stark would be a most auspicious match. The Houses had long been friends and allies, and keeping the tradition of partnership thriving through marriage was no strange thing. He'd been even happier when Aelys wrote to him weekly, describing how enchanted she had been with her new husband and thanking him profusely for giving her a blessed match.
Now, the greyed man stood in front of Cregan with a deepset frown and a fierce look in his eyes. "Lord Stark. I thought you'd be busy in Winterfell."
Cregan cleared his throat, focusing on him intently. It made sense that the man was cross with him, especially after he assumed that Aelys had sent him a few lengthy letters telling of Cregan's infidelity. "I came to see my wife, and to bring her back home."
Harriston huffed a sarcastic laugh. "You send her back home, only to come yourself first?" He gestured around with his arms up.
Cregan tensed, "first? Is Aelys not already here?"
Lord Glover matched in his seriousness. "Aelys wrote to me three days ago, informing me that you had sent her here to be away from danger."
"I did not send her anywhere."
"You mean you do not know where my daughter is?" He asked, voice low and firm as he stepped closer. Though Harriston was a fine swordsman and a battle-worn fighter, Cregan did not fear the Lord's wrath, for he could easily best him in combat.
He did, however, have the brains to fear a furious father's vengeance.
His heart nearly beat out of his chest. "And she stated that she was on her way here?"
"I think I know what she said, boy." Lord Glover hissed. "Where is Aelys?"
"She must still be out there," Cregan murmured breathlessly, turning on his heel and running out of the fort's doors and back out to the stables. Cobalt was in none of them, confirmed to him that Lord Glover was not simply lying and hiding his wife away from him.
Cregan decided to take another horse—one well rested and ready to travel in the packed snow, unlike his own weary mare. Guiding it to the doors where Lord Glover had exited and looked at Cregan with a fear unlike the learned man usually expressed, he asked: Where are the kennels?"
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When Aelys left to brave the storm alone, she had not anticipated the sheer unforgivable nature of it. Living in the North her whole life, she'd long grown used to cold weather and hunting for herself. Hunts often lasted days or weeks, being times of comraderie and companionship when out in the wilderness with your people. She had not been hunting in years, much less alone.
The snow had slowed her travel significantly and clouded her navigational judgment. North became South, and East became West after so long of walking. With the skies so darkened, it was even harder to tell the time of day. With every stop she made and every fire that burnt out too quickly for her to be fully warm, Aelys had grown desperate.
She found shelter in a half-conscious act to preserve her on life. Now, curled up with only her fur-lined dress and the pelt she had brought from Winterfell, she could not help but begin to accept that she would die in this cave.
Aelys thought of her life in a few curt thoughts.
She had only lived twenty and two years. She grew up with loving parents and two elder brothers who doted on her greatly. She married Lord Stark of Winterfell, someone who took her heart quicker than she'd ever thought possible. She would die here, alone and cold because of him.
She thought of all the things she had wanted from life. Not much, for a Lord's daughter. Aelys had always wanted love and gave love in return. Trusted perhaps too much and did not gain from it. She wished for children, eventually, and could never have them now. She wished to see the warm deserts of Dorne and the lush gardens of Old Town in her retirement.
Aelys Bolton would not see anything but the North, nothing but the cold snow and frost-tippes trees around. They had grown familiar and warm.
Warm.
She was so warm, now.
Aelys closed her eyes and fell asleep, dreaming of better days.
"You do not wish to return home to a babe in the nursery?" Aelys asked, voice low and humming as Cregan lay beneath her on their shared bed. Most men did, misliking the process of pregnacy but loving the outcome, for it could only serve to benefit them.
"We will have plenty of time for babes when I come back to you." He replied, brushing his lips over her the crown of her head. "What kind of husband would I be if I left you to deal with the struggles of pregnancy and birth all alone?"
"I won't be alone. Sara is staying, too. I will have a sister to keep me company and complain all my grievances about my missing husband to her." She said amusedly.
Cregan paused in his rhythmic stoking of her spine. "Sara has asked to come, my heart."
She paused, too, lifting her head from his chest and squinting at him. "Sara can come down to King's Landing with you, but I cannot?"
He sighed, shaking his head. "She will be staying at the Blackwood's residence at Raventree Hall, not King's Landing. I would never endanger either of you by bringing you to the capitol. She has been offered guest housing by her friend, Alysanne Blackwood, during my time down there."
She huffed, conceding to his words and dropping her head back down, listening again to his ever-steady heartbeat. "Must be nice to see the Riverlands." She said lightly. "I hear they have fields of flowers growing year-round."
"And the permanent smell of fish and mildew." Cregan added with a snort. "You're not missing anything, I swear it to you. Sara and I will be gone for a short period of time. I intend to leave as soon as things are settled and put to rest."
Aelys hummed her quiet acknowledgment. There was no argument to be had, not when Cregan was set to leave in the morning. "There must always be a Stark in Winterfell." She said cheekily, though there was plenty truth to the statement. Alone, she would serve as political head to Winterfell and the temporary 'Warden' while Cregan was missing in action. She had her advisors, consisting of Cregan's trusted councilmen, but the hole that she knew would sink itself into her heart already wore her into her.
Cregan laughed at her words, nodding. "Aye, my love, you will do perfectly. I'm sorry to leave you alone for so long, but I have no doubt you'll do great." He said proudly, kissing her nose. She scrunched it up at the ticklish feeling, allowing a girlish giggle to leave her throat.
"Don't be gone too long, husband. Your wife needs you here." She said, tilting her head up to meet his lips.
"I would never dream of it."
The moons passed by with no reprieve for Aelys. As Winterfell's sole head, her days were busy from dawn til dusk. Letters were exchanged sporadically with her husband while he helped Aegon iii ascend to his place on the iron throne.
Until, one day, his letters ceased. It had already been a full year without Cregan Stark, and Aelys was beginning to grow used to the lack of her husband and sister by her side. Routine had grown to be instinct for her, breezing through her duties like she'd done them all her life. The only thing missing was her lover.
Concerned, Aelys checked in with the resident Maester to ensure Cregan's wellbeing.
When he paused, lips pursed and hands clutching at his cane with a stress unlike the calm elder, he rasped out his own fears. "I, too, have received no word from Lord Stark. Though, no news has come of us death in the capitol, so he must simply be occupied."
Occupied at the end of the war? When Aegon had already been named King and all the men put to trial were either declared guilty or innocent? The brunt of the work was over and done with—told by Cregan himself.
So why was he silent for an entire moon?
It was another fortnite before the Stark wrote back to her. The letter was curt and brief.
My dearest Aelys,
Forgive my abrupt silence these past weeks. Please know that you have been on my mind throughout this entire time.
Sara has grown sick in Raventree Hall, and has not been able to travel with the host of men I have sent back home to the North. We will stay behind for another few moons while she is in recovery. I will return to you soon.
With love,
Cregan Stark.
It was shorter than his other letters by many paragraphs, pages even. Cregan left out no details when describing his miserable times in the capitol. Aelys found herself much enjoying his theatrical melodramatic retelling and was rendered bemused by this letter. Still, she continued to lead with no pause for breaks.
Three more moons later, and Cregan wrote that he was mere days away from Winterfell. Without Sara Snow, unfortunately, as she was still not entirely recovered, but his party could be postponed no longer.
Aelys rushed around Winterfell's Keep in a flurry of excitement. She ordered every room to be cleaned spotless, for rations to be saved for days until a feast could be made for their arrival, for hearths to be extra tended to, and for the courtyard to be prepared to clear the way for the host.
Finally, the days of busy bodies floating around the Great Keep came to a stop. The feast was warm and ready at all available tables. The hearths were warm and ready for sleepy heads to rest within the rooms. The tubs were filled with scalding hot water that would warm by the time they were used. Lady Stark stood for hours at the Great Keep's entry stairs in the courtyard.
She wanted to be there exactly when he walked through the archway. Despite the cold biting at her nose, the Lady stood resiliant and tall.
It was nearly in the afternoon when Cregan's party arrived. He came through first, leading as head of the host as any Lord should. A wheelhouse followed, surrounded by a small league of soliders all around it. She bounced on her heels slightly, seeing Cregan dismount from his ride. Though she found herself bemused and slightly hurt when he glanced at her and made his way towards the wheelhouse instead. Had Sara recovered enough to join and perhaps wanted to surprise her good sister? She hoped so, for she had missed her greatly. After growing up with only brothers, Aelys found a best friend and sister in Sara Snow. The whispers about Lady Stark befriending the bastard of Winterfell followed her around like a dark shadow, but she never paid them any mind.
Bastardry had never bothered Aelys before. Not even when she was a woman of noble birth and was taught that bastards were born inherently lustful, evil, and made of sin.
She waited patiently at the top of the steps for Cregan to fetch Sara.
To her surprise, he only pulled out of the carriage with a bundle of clothes in his arms. Pelts and blankets, it seemed. A plainly-dressed woman from the South stepped out after him but stayed trailing behind. A maid of some sort, though she had no clue as to why a Southern maid would need to follow Cregan back to Winterfell.
As he strided towards her, a strange and unhappy look on his face, she forced her anxiety back down her throat and raced to meet him. "Husband," she greeted with a smile. "You should come inside. A feast has been prepared for you—and your men, of course." Reaching out to caress his face and simultaneously brush flecks of snow from his loose hair, she couldn't help but stop to admire her husband's handsome features. It had felt like an eternity that they were separated, and she had begun to forget the full details of his frame. Forgot his scent in the room and his side of the bed. Nearly forgot the warmth that he provided simply from standing nearby.
The very warmth he is giving to her now, in the chilly courtyard.
His eyes appeared to gloss, his nose and cheeks pinking even more so than they had already grown in the biting air. Glancing over Cregan, she assessed quickly for signs of fatigue or illness.
"Cregan?" she asked gently. "What is wrong?" She prayed he did not catch whatever Sara had caught, or hid a wound under his mass of leathers and pelts.
When he shiftly lifted the bundle in his arms to gesture for her to look at it, she finally spared a look to the mysterious ball of cloth. She had completely forgotten about it until now, noticing the maid still behind Cregan a few yards back, head tilted down and looking at her slippers. Peeking over a fur pelt, Aelys gasped at the sight. A babe, only a few moons old by the looks of it. Her mind raced with possibilities. Why would Cregan bring a babe back instead of leaving it in more temperate climates like the Riverlands that he stayed in on the way up North?
"Has one of your men died?" She asked in a hushed tone, assuming first that one of his soldiers perhaps fathered a bastard babe before perishing in a battle or falling to sickness. "Is the babe an orphan?" Cregan did always have a soft spot for younglings, showcased clearly by his time spent personally training young squires of Winterfell. He had lost his own younger brother in their youth, and the hole had never filled from that loss of kin.
"Aelys..." he started, meeting her eyes with a soft and sympathetic look. "This is my son." Was said loud and clear for any listeners to hear.
A jest. Cregan had seldom liked to be humorous in front of crowds, or anyone but herself and Sara, but he must have been in good spirits today. Briefly glancing at the surrounding people, she found only pitiful looks from the women and severe looks from the men. Shaking her head, Aelys forced a smile onto her face and a shaky laugh. "Don't jest, Cregan. We have no son." She emphasized.
He only stared at her back. No words of comfort, no sudden burst of laughter among his men to tell her that the biggest prank in the world had been pulled on her. Just shameless silence.
He had declared her second best in front of all of Winterfell. Her people and his.
"No." She said firmly, shaking her head 'no'. She breathed in and out deeply, trying to clear her blurry eyes and woozy head. Glaring down at the false babe in his arms, she found many similarities that she wished she had not. The same straight brows that Cregan had, the same scattered freckles, the same pale skin. The only difference was the hair color—black as a midnight sky or dragonglass. The mother must be beautiful.
Moving her eyes to the maid behind Cregan, she found that the girl had a mousy blonde color to her tresses. She could not have possibly bore a black-haired babe. She felt sick, like she'd throw up and choke at the same time. "Don't do this to me. You'd never do this to me." She pleaded out, voice small and hoarse.
"It was one time. I swear it on my honor and Stark name." Cregan promised. But every word was like poison, filling her heart with a heavy black liquid and drowning her from the inside out.
"On your name?" She hissed out, uncaring of the onlookers for this one moment. She was allowed to be angry, callous, and spiteful, even. Any self-respecting woman would be. And she'd be damned if she wasn't. Any Stark woman ought to be when ruling over the entire North. Any Glover woman is.
"Your honor? You swore on your honor the day we said our vows under the Weirwood tree. Under OUR Gods! Did that mean nothing to you? Did I—?" Words spilled from her mouth before she can think properly. But she did not regret any of them, knowing she was in the right. Bile rose in her throat, pushing itself past the forced down emotions. She swiftly covered her mouth, stilling herself to prevent any more embarrassing. Subconsciously, she clutched at her empty stomach with her free hand, both mourning the fact that she'd have no children and thanking the Gods for not giving her any previously. A cry finally escaped her lips, watching the plain maid take the babe into her arms again as Cregan looked on helplessly to his wife.
Aelys found her voice again, though it was ragged and tired. "I thought you wished to wait. You told me you wanted it, too." He was a liar, the worst kind of man. "Was it just not me you wanted a family with?"
She'd rather be struck with his hand than his deceitful mouth. It would hurt much less.
"I did, Aelys—I do!" He pleaded, stepping forward to console her. His arms looked like steel traps in her louded mind.
She took a lengthy step back. She would not share his warmth, nor his love. Or his bed, his room, his damned dining room. His children. Not when he had shared it with another woman. Given her his love, his attention, his son.
She could not bear to keep herself calm any longer. Adressing the entire courtyard, who had made themselves the Stark's own personal peanut gallery, she spoke firmly. "The feast is growing cold. Enjoy it while it's warm." Without a second glance back at the Stark, Aelys excused herself to her chambers, where she emptied the contents of her stomach into the chamberpot until she could only dry-heave nothingness. These chambers had not been used since she arrived in Winterfell, instead choosing to sleep and stay in their marital ones. She would not step foot into those again unless she was dragged kicking and screaming.
Aelys awoke to strong arms lifting her from the stone floor. Groggily, she was stirred from her deep and preserving sleep. How long had she been traveling? How long had she been buried under those pelts? Time was a blur when she was in a near comatose state, dead to the world. Limbs were numbed and her body felt warm after so long in the cold weather.
"I've got you, sweet girl. We're going home." A familiar voice rung in the back of her head. Even the jolting movements of a horse trotting could not fully move her to consciousness as she fell back asleep.
When she fully gained her sense of mind, she could clearly hear the sound of two men arguing. The warmth of a hearth was next to her as she lifted heavy blankets and furs off of her body. Glancing around, Aelys found herself back right where it all started. In Cregan's room, formerly their marital chambers that she had long since moved out of. A large oil painting sat over the heart, depicting a newlywed image of her and Cregan. They both smiled brightly in the photo, much to Cregan's complaint that the painting did not make him look 'serious enough'. She only laughed and tipped the painter extra gold dragons for the accuracy.
She loved that painting more than any others they kept in the Great Keep. Now, the two faces looking down at her only served to remind her of the falsehood she lived every day while Cregan was absent. Taking care of Winterfell and the North all by herself, just to come back and be thanked by his uncouth mistakes.
Shakily standing up, she winced at the feeling coming back to her limbs. Wriggling all twenty of her toes and fingers, she ensured they still all had feeling. Miraculously, she did. The numbess still felt vaguely there, and her throat was extremely dry and achy. But at least she was alive. Even if it was back in Winterfell, she could attempt her return to the Motte as soon as the storm died down.
It had been a dreadful blizzard. Not a rare sight in the North, but usually none lasted so long. Aelys could not help but feel it was the Gods punish Cregan and Aelys for their marital spat. Something like this must be so futile and useless in their eyes and the eyes of the people of the realm, but to Aelys it was her world and her life. No one could help Aelys but herself. She'd leave these spoiled halls even if the Old Gods and the New wished otherwise. If Cregan didn't have to keep oaths, why should she?
Opening the large wooden door, Aelys found the source of the faint yelling. Her eyes widened at the sight of her father in front of Cregan, in all his gruff charm with his silver hair and beard. She hadn't seen him in nearly two years. She stayed at the archway under the door, simply listening in as the men shouted further down the hall. If either turned their heads, they would spot her eavesdropping.
"—cannot even keep her safe during Winter! Am I to expect her to stay safe during a wildling attack, or worse? Or will you be prioritizing the safety of your mistress?" Harriston shouted, veins nearly popping out from his forehead and neck in his fury. Snow still gathered on his pelt coat, meaning he had just arrived recently.
"It is my mistake that she was endangered out there—but I would never let such a thing happen again under my protection. This is her home, I cannot allow her to go back to the Dreadfort. She is a Stark." Cregan emphasized, though had a defensive raised tone.
"Was she a Stark when you bed a whore in King's Landing?"
"The situation is more complicated than that." He responded, clenching his jaw.
"Nothing could ever be more complicated than losing your wit at a brothel, Stark. There is no argument to be had. She is staying with her family, where she was intending." Harriston growled out, a tone of finality to his tone. As he swung on his feet to head down the hall, face set in a worried and seething anger, he finally spotted his daughter.
"Aelys!" He yelled in relief, rushing toward her and scooping her up into his thick arms. "We're going home immediately. We will wash our hands of the Starks once and for all."
"I will not allow that." Cregan spoke from behind. As Aelys hugged her father back just as tightly, it was a battle to keep her tears from flowing in his safe arms. She missed her father more than she knew.
Before Harristone could speak, Aelys nodded. "We will settle this." She said flatly. Her father hesitantly let her go, nodding once firmly after seeing the resolve in his daughter's eyes.
"Very well. I will wait in the dining hall for you." He sighed, walking away.
Aelys shivered in the loss of warmth again. In her bare feet and night gown, she felt the cold of the cobblestone walls and floors start to seep under her skin again. "Here," Cregan murmured, gently shifting his mass of brown wolf pelt over her shoulders and clicking the direwolf emblem into place.
She allowed it, though she did not thank him with words. She took a deep breath, looking him in the eyes. "I want to separate. Divorce, I mean." She said tiredly.
Cregan flinched, jaw ticking and heavily considering her words. "That is entirely my fault. It is in your right to ask that of me." He said, voice dimmed and not nearly half of his assuredness. "But please, hear me out."
"What could I possibly hear you out with?" She asked, exhaustion clear in her tone. She'd dealt with this situation long enough.
Cregan nudged the door back open, nodding for her to enter. Reluctantly, she led the way in and watched as he gently shut it behind them. "I swore an oath, nearly nine moons ago." Cregan started.
Her brows furrowed, bemused. "To whom?"
Guiltily, he looked down at her, looking much alike to a kicked pup. "My sister."
"To Sara? What ever for?" She grew frustrated, knowing he was beating around the bush.
Taking a deep breath, he told her everything. "Sara stayed with her friend Alysanne Blackwood in Raventree hall for the entire time I was aiding King Aegon. In that time—she fell pregnant."
Aelys' heart dropped to her stomach. The same sick feeling overtaking her. She did not say a word.
"Davos Blackwood and Sara had built a bond, much like we did." He said. "When she told Davos of the news, they both went to Lord Blackwood to plea to marry each other. He refused, not allowing his heir to marry a bastard."
"And you legitimized Brandon as your own in turn?" She hissed.
"Sara begged me to. She lived her life as a bastard—she did not wish the same for her own son. I swore to her that my nephew would never be allowed the same treatment. I knew Aegon would do it." He trailed.
"So you bring him home, and humiliate me instead? You didn't even tell me, your own wife! You chose Sara over me. She is your sister, I know, but she chose to be with Davos Blackwood." She could have taken a tea, or moved to Essos or Dorne where bastards were more accepted. There were other options, but neither Sara nor Cregan used them. "That is cruel, Cregan. It is heartless." She cried.
"I never wished to hurt you, I only wanted to protect her. It was my oath." Cregan pleaded, grabbing her hands in his.
She shivered again, though unknowing if it was in chill or her own anger. Part of her was happy that he never truly took another woman to bed—never picked another other her. Though he still hid the biggest secret in the world from her for moons. Allowed her to suffer in their shared home and withstand the pitious looks of the people and court.
"I can't trust you. Not ever again. You could not trust me with your own kin's truth, and punished me for it." She stated. She could not allow herself to cave in so easily, to fall back into his arms.
"I understand, sweet girl." He muttered, softly stroking the apple of her cheek almost mindlessly. "I will sign whatever the Maester's conjure up. You will be free to marry whoever you wish—someone who will not lie to you."
The Starks were known for their loyalty and devotedness to their oaths. If Cregan Stark had lied to his wife so easily, no lesser man could ever make her happy with faithfulness and loyalty. Aelys had accepted her life to be one of loneliness from the day Brandon was allowed into the home.
"I will stay in Deepwood Motte for the time being. From there, I will see where my path leads." She said vaguely, unknowing now of what her heart desired. "Wish Sara well for me." Aelys asked of him, leaving him behind as she wiped any straying tears from her face.
"I love you, Aelys." He said, calling softly after her.
"I know." She whispered to herself.
In the dining hall, Harriston awaited her arrival. Perking up when she entered, he knowingly took her into his arms. "I'm tired, father."
"Let's go home. Your mother has missed you dearly." He said, planting a fatherly kiss to her temple.
Aelys would not yet send word for a formal separation to the Citadel or to the King. For now, time apart was what she declared best for herself.
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divider by - @issysh3ll
tags - @palomavz @emithefrog @karinalight @johnshelbywife @tojisrealwifey @baddielizzy @pearldaisy @brookiecookie @jessicar401 @hardkiddonut @littlelilly27-blog @nayaniasworld @just-mj-or-not @flaneurpastel @unsweetenedpeatea @blucesita09 @maxmegara @deeeeexx @masschotch @janniepark1997 @spongelistener @margaaaa30 @paracii @lovebabe18 @rey26 @damneddamsy @yunnifer @kenzcarson @glqmmywhqmmy @arizonadesert @blumin8 @its-your-girl-savy @dreamygirli3 @aemondloverr @zaranobiyuyu @nsr-15 @oxymakestheworldgoround @isansstuff @high-speed-r
so many tags dont work 🥲 will try to tell in comment sec
ending is ambiguous. Will she decide to divorce or eventually mend their relationship? Up to you!
might make an alt ending where he really is just a shitty guy but this had been my idea from the start (many guessed it and i could not reply to them because of it lmao)
sorry if those two scenes got repetitive, but I wanted to show the 'cregan bringing brandon home' from both of their more detailed perspectives. Cregan's shame and guilt and her humiliation and heartbreak.
so many people guessed so close (to the sara part at least) only saw Jace thoughts tho, but he's already dead long before Cregan's walk down to the South. Would have been much more dramatic, but I think Jace would never allow a child of his to be apart from him. Many people swayed me to lead them to separate instead of stick together, and it does make more sense to have her leave him in the end. Although he did not cheat he still lied and publicly humiliated her, even unintentionally, but he's a grown man who is smart enough to know consequences.
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cindyss · 7 months ago
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• - WHO DID THIS TO YOU? - •
PAIRING(S): theodore nott x fem. reader.
WARNING(S): fighting, swearing, smut.
SUMMARY: when y/n comes into class crying, Theo doesn’t let it slide and punishes who did it. Y/n then takes him back to her dorm to clean up and as they’re in a perfect position, he takes the chance to make a move.
A/N: english isn’t my first language so lmk if there’s anything wrong with this 🫶.
——————————————————
Headed to your last class for today, potions, you spot your ex, Cormac and his friends. You broke up 3 months ago and he still couldn’t let you go. Therefore, he found different ways to humiliate you, to make fun of you.
As you try to increase your pace, he plops himself in front of you stopping you in your place. “Tried something new with your hair today?” he chuckles, “or is it your face. All the makeup in the world can’t hide that ugly face of yours, neither the even uglier personality in there princess.” he continues pointing at your chest. “Neither the clothes you wear can hide your fat self under there.”
All his friends burst out laughing, humiliated, you run out of the way and to your class. Before you could stop it, a few tears manage to slip down your cheeks on your way there.
You get to class, greet your teacher and stand with the rest of your classmates. After professor Slughorn is finished with the explanation, he puts you into pairs to begin working on your potions.
You get paired up with theo, the boy who’s always trying to get on your nerves, and you’re given a book to start. You begin preparing the potion without saying a word so the tears don’t form again.
After around 5 minutes, theo speaks “mia signora (my lady), thats not the correct ingredient” of course its not, you could barely see with the tears formed in your eyes ready to start dropping any minute.
You look up at him and apologize ”sorry i just have a few things on my mind”. “Bella, why are you crying,” he takes your face in his hands. “Who did this to you, who made you cry, i know you don’t easily cry. Give me names” he says.
“Theo, let it go, it’s nothing im fine.” “No, no, im not letting it go. Someone makes you cry and i have to move on with my day? Give me names and make it much easier for the both of us.” “Cormac, he-” you say as you sob, and before you can continue, he storms out of the class.
“Need a minute, mr nott?” this from Slughorn. You run after the slytherin boy, “nott no!!” In an instant he finds cormac and turns him so that he’s facing theo. He punches him hard, very hard, cormac almost takes a bite out of the floor.
Just then, some of cormac’s friends attack theodore throwing punches and kicks at him, all which he manages to dodge. He’s quick and slick with every punch, every move. Cormac then gets up and speaks “got you a slytherin bf to take care of your problems then huh you little pussy?”
Theodore throws another punch his way and pins him on the floor, next to all his other bloodied, barely moving, friends. “listen to me you little bitch, come her way again and i will make your life a living hell, speak to her one more time and ill rip your tongue out, mention her name anywhere near me and ill make sure you forget how to breathe.”
You’re clueless, you have no clue what to do, you’re just standing there, in utter and ultimate shock. By then, students and teachers storm in the hallway, try to break the fight. Once they’re broken apart, you make your way to theodore.
He has blood dripping from his nose, on his hand, it was all over his face. He’s standing with his friends, matteo, draco, enzo, and blaise. “are you okay nott?” he gives you a quick nod.
Enzo then starts speaking “we offered taking him to the nurse to get him cleaned up but he wont go, maybe you can help clean his wounds, i heard your dad’s a doctor so maybe i thought you can help?”. “Of course i can, come theo I’ll help you from here.”
You take theodore from enzo adjusting his arm on your shoulder so he holds on, and you swear you could see matteo winking theo’s way. You then proceed to walk him to your dorm.
The whole way there none of you speaks a word, and once you get there, you lead him to the bathroom and make him wait there. You get the aid box and sit on the counter, you ask him to come closer and you begin.
You first start by cleaning his nose, the blood dripping from it. You then make your way to his forehead, you carefully remove some of his hair thats covering the part you need to clean.
As you clean him up, he’s looking at you. “It’s not very nice to stare” you tease. To that he doesn’t respond, he keeps his eyes on you so you try something else. “I didn’t want you to get in trouble bc of me, why would you do that? Don’t tell me you care.” you chuckle.
“What did he say to you?” he asks. “I know it was big so don’t try to lie to me bc I’m the only one who’s allowed to piss you off and be mean to you, hell, even ive never disrespected you or made you cry before!”
“Well, he asked if i changed anything in my appearance, he also said..” theo looks up at you. “.. that all the makeup in the world isnt enough to hide my ugly face or personality.” “That bastard!” you feel theo tense. “He also called me.. uhhm.. fat.” “Im gonna fucking kill him.” The boys swears.
“I really can handle it, but i dont know why it affected me to much this time.” you say as you clean his blood off. “I know you can, but let me. Let me teach that bastard a lesson.” “Fighting is not the solution though theodore.” “I know mia cara but I couldn’t control myself, i really didnt mean to but i lost control.” you could see the regret in his eyes.
“Its fine, just really appreciated that, thanks for everything nott.” You give him a small smile. You then start cleaning the blood on his mouth, placing your fingers on his lips, you make sure to clean everything thats left.
“Listen to me,” he cups your face, “he’s a dickhead for not seeing how great of a personality you have, you acquire a great personality, when youre caring and some times even when ur mean.” He gives you a little wink and lets out a snort.
“Thanks” you smile at him then slap a bandage on his nose, to stop his nose from bleeding. After theo realizes you’re done, his hands travel down to remove his own shirt. “Wh-“. Your eyes immediately travel to his abs body, his ab lines, it was if they were drawn on pen and paper.
“Its not very nice to stare,” he teases. “my stomach is also hurt, if you can’t help me with this ill just go back to my dorm” he says with a playful smirk. “No, no i can do something about it.” you get your stuff ready for a second round and then speak “this might hurt a little.”
You then raise the cloth with liquid on it in your hand and place it on his wound. He flinches at the pain and since he’s placed between your legs while you’re sat on the counter, he grabs onto your thigh. He gives it a little squeeze, “fuck cara mia, this hurts like a bitch” he closes his eyes in pain.
“Sorry Theo im almost done.” You apologize. As you finish, Theo looks down at you as you’re still placed on the counter in front of him. “You liked touching my abs didn’t you.” He smiled cockily at you. “As if you didn’t like my hands touching them.” Right back him. “and found a way to touch my thigh.”
“Listen to me, i got you caged up right here,” he says with his hands on either sides of you, “i can do whatever i want to you so you better shut your pretty little mouth up or i wont be able to control myself.” You blush at his comment and try to hide behind your hair to which he tucks it behind your ear.
“You’re so sexy when you’re nervous and shy like that bella ragazza.” He says. “Oh shut up, what does bella ragazza even mean?” you ask, genuine confusion taking over your face. “It means pretty girl.” He smirks. “You think im pretty then hm?” you blush.
He looks at your eyes, stares to be specific, then he looks at your lips for a few seconds before grabbing your face and connecting your lips. You place your hands on his shoulders as the kiss deepens. “Such a pretty girl, a perfect one.” He says in between kisses.
“fuck nott” you say as he places his hand on your cheek to deepen the kiss. He manages to slip his tongue inside your mouth which you moan slightly to. You feel the heat of your body as he places his hands under your thighs and carries you in his arms.
“But it’ll hurt you, nott we cant.” you speak, worried. “Cara mia, you really thought i was hurting?” he smirks, your eyes widen in surprise, you connect your lips again, as he carries you to your bed. He lays you there and removes your shirt slowly and carefully. He then removes the rest of your clothes and begins leaving trails of kisses on your stomach, your hands travel to his hair, playing with it as your stomach tenses at the feeling.
“So perfect,” he mumbles while still trailing kisses on every inch of skin he could get to. “you’re fucking perfect.” The blush takes over your face, uncontrollably making its way to touch ur ears.
His fingers slide down your hips to catch the lace of your panties, getting rid of them. He spreads your legs further and begins kissing the inside of your thighs. He then places a finger on your clit, rubbing circles around it, slowly at first. His movements then quicken, and he includes his tongue. In sync, his fingers circling your clit his tongue licking your clit, you could feel your pre-cum already.
He was so good at this, he was also good at teasing, you arch your back slightly in attempt to speed things up but he uses one hand to push you back down carefully. Then, he pushes 2 fingers inside you with no warning, you moan at the sudden feeling and tug at his hair.
As his tongue and fingers work in sync to throw you over the edge, he adds a third finger in and proceeds to throw your legs over his shoulders. Your feet dig into his skin as he speeds up his movements, back arching so that his face is practically buried in you, one hand grabbing the sheets, the other his hair.
“theo.. im gonna.. fuck!!” you struggle. “do it mia cara, cum on my face.” As he quickens his movements, you tense around him as he guides you through ur high. As you release, Theodore licks you clean, he then moves back up to you kissing you hungrily. “That was fucking amazing.” You praise him. “I don’t think i can walk anymore.” “Well, we’re not quite done yet, i still didnt make love to you yet.”
theo says, smirking as he removes his clothes. He’s just left in his boxers and when he reveals his hard and huge bulge, you gasp out loud. “I didn’t know this is what we’re dealing with, i dont think it’s gonna fit.” you look at theo “we’ll make it fit.” he smirks. Oh. God.
He spreads your legs again, and begins kissing you, at first it’s slow, his tongue slips inside your mouth. “You wanna be on top?” he asks. You nod and he flips over so that you’re laying on top of him. You position yourself properly and once you’re ready, you lower yourself slowly taking most of him in.
You then start moving up and down, riding him. Your hands lying on his stomach as you do so. “Think you can handle more of me?” he suggests. “I can try.” You smirk as you flip so he’s on top of you. He spreads your legs even further, as you take him all in. You moan his name at the feeling and he leans down to kiss you, you moan a few times into his mouth before he moves to kissing your neck. You grab onto the bed sheets for dear life as he kisses your neck on the weak spot.
“Cavolo, posso farlo tutto il giorno. mi prendi così perfettamente.” he says something in italian. (Fuck, i can do this all day. you take me so perfectly.) You can feel yourself ready to come again so you warn him, he also lets you know that he’s about to come too. “Come inside me” you say. Just then, you both reach your highs and come together.
After you’re done, theo lays next to you, “yknow you’re actually the prettiest girl ive seen.” he praises. You blush as he keeps speaking. “Ive wanted to do this a long time ago, but i was so scared of you.” “Me?” You chuckle. “Then why were you always rude to me?” “I thought getting on your nerves was the only way to talk to you.”
You look at him and laugh some before he gets up and runs to turn the water on. “Come, let’s get cleaned up before any of my friends decide to show up.” He speaks. “They know my room number?” you ask confused. “Of course they do.” He smiles before disappearing into the bathroom again. “Nott!!” you call his name, “i dont think i can walk.” He leaves the bathroom chuckling and heads toward you to carry you there.
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morose-melodies · 3 months ago
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DROP MORE PREGNANT READER AND MY LIFE IF YOURS🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏
ups and downs | various! yandere! fatui harbingers x pregnant reader
a/n: gimme your life :3
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CAPITANO
you were not happy, the captain could tell.
whenever he'd bring light to your sad expression, you'd just sulk, and walk off, dragging your feet.
perhaps this pregnancy was getting to you more than he knew.
to see you so sad, to see you so sluggish, he knew you weren't feeling well.
so he started coddling you. he'd do everything for you, or, almost everything anyway. he would help you get dressed in the morning, he would braid your hair down for you to keep it out of your face, he'd hold your hand and walk you through the snowy garden with him.
things seemed to be looking up for you.
"it's getting colder shall we go back in?" the captain asked, pausing to look at you, waiting for an answer.
"I'm not ready..."
"very well," he would remove his coat and place it over your shoulders, "if it pleases you, we can continue our walk."
"thank you."
"of course. I'd do anything for you, (y/n)."
sure, he was getting tired of roaming the garden, but holding your hand and being near you, seeing you enjoy yourself, made it worth his while.
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DOTTORE
dottore had it with you.
not literally, but goodness, you were wearing him out. if you weren't complaining about one thing, it was something else.
you were sitting in front of the fireplace complaining about how hot it was. so, of course, dottre had to help you find a better seat, or else you'd get upset with him.
and now, you were complaining about the fruit salad you were eating.
looking across the table at you, dottore picked at his salad. it was meant to be a small meal until dinner and here you were complaining about it.
"(y/n), if it's not to your liking, then don't eat it. nobody here is forcing you to eat it," dottore formed a smile on his face, it was small and tense but if he didn't smile at you, he knew you'd think he was being 'rude'.
"yeah, but I'm hungry... I don't think fruit salad should be so... mushy."
dottore swallowed, poking at his salad - it wasn't mushy at all. pulling your bowl away, he slid his own to you, "eat it, (y/n), please - there is absolutely nothing wrong with mine."
dottore then ate your fruit salad - it didn't matter to him how it tasted, as long as you were satisfied and eating, he didn't mind how rotten the salad tasted.
though, he would be firing the chief for even daring to serve this garbage to you.
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PANTALONE
"look at this dress, oh, it looks absolutely lovely on you," pantalone turned you to face the mirror, his hand hovering over your round belly before he dropped it to his side.
catching a glance at your face, pantalone saw that you were frowning deeply. "(y/n)... what's the matter?"
"I'm tired," you replied, looking at him through the mirror.
right, pantalone had forgotten, you've been quite sluggish these past few months. it was inconsiderate of him to make you stand and try on multiple dresses just for his satisfaction.
it was truly inconsiderate of him.
"oh, it completely slipped my mind," pantalone was quick to turn you to face him, his hands on your shoulder, "forgive me, won't you? here, let me help you out of this..."
"it's fine..." you mumbled, as he began tugging the dress from over your head. removing the dress, he helped you back into your old clothes.
"a nap would be nice, no?" taking your hand into his, he guided you into his bedroom where the two of you would lie down for a nap.
he could tell you were tired.
gosh, he was so very considerate.
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CHILDE
when childe worked, he had a new goal in mind.
providing for you, of course. he was going to be a father; he needed to prove that he was worth it, and he needed to prove just how good of a father he'd be.
he had never felt quite so motivated before. he had never felt so motivated to be good and stay out of trouble.
love really changes people, huh?
after finishing his work, he'd come home with a grin on his face. it didn't feel real, at all.
he was with you and you were going to have a child with him!
"(y/n), where are you? I'm home! I brought dinner," childe called out as he stepped through the front door.
the fireplace was on, the lights were off and the bedroom door was cracked open. huh, guess you were sleeping.
so childe crept down the hallway and into his bedroom where you were sleeping.
how pretty you were...
he sat down beside him, looking at you and your peaceful features. he grinned, how much better could his life get?
he idly messed with the hairs on your head, petting and twirling them around his finger. he sat there and did that for a while, that was until you woke up.
you swatted his hand away, scowling at him.
childe smiled down at you, "let's go shopping for baby clothes. that would be nice, wouldn't it?"
"sure..."
"great! now let's go eat, (y/n), I brought dinner home for us."
eating dinner with you would be a nice change of pace but, of course, anything done with you would be nice.
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dreamsteddie · 1 month ago
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Steve H.
Part Two, Part One
Okay, I started the last post with a "Haha wouldn't it be funny" which turned into a long, not-so-funny rant. So! Here is the funny part!
Steve is Dustin's brother and Claudia's son in all but law. He lives with them, calls Claudia mom and refers to Dustin as his brother, takes them to all his school events until he graduates and helps pay the bills after high school. Claudia never pressures him to apply to colleges he doesn't even want to get into or makes him feel like he has to move out any time soon when he turns 18, so he stays and gets a part-time job at Scoops where he bonds with Robin for life.
At the same time, drop out Eddie and his uncle Wayne move to town when the power company transfers him to the plant in Hawkins. It serves them well since Eddie needs a fresh start after getting tossed out of school without a degree for unjust reasons. He needs some place where he can make friends and get a job without his reputation hanging over his head, and Wayne would never abandon his nephew.
So they land in Hawkins and Eddie finds his feet by visiting the library and happening upon a gaggle of kids commandeering one of the reservable conference rooms for DnD. They're are a few older kids closer to his age there too, but the curly-haired one is definitely running the show.
Meanwhile, Wayne has failed to mention to his nephew that the main reason he agreed to the transfer uncontested was because he hit it off with one Claudia Henderson at a diner after a fishing trip and has been dating her without Eddie's knowledge for 8 months. He breaks the news to his Nephew when he starts making plans to propose and wants to introduce Eddie to Claudia and her sons before he does. Wayne loves Claudia but Eddie comes first and he wants to make sure they'll all make a good family.
So they go over to the Henderson household for dinner one night, Wayne having wrangled Eddie into a black button-down and jeans without holes so Claudia doesn't think he raised a ruffian.
Dustin answers the door and immediately freaks out because he's so excited. He's met Wayne before and so has Steve so he knows things are serious and there's a good chance Eddie becomes family down the line.
Yelling in excitement the whole way Dustin drags both men into the kitchen where the root of all Eddie's troubles can be found.
Steve.
He immediately starts bitching at Dustin about acceptable volumes, towel over his shoulder and hands on hips and Eddie is Gone. Sent. In the stratosphere and immediately smitten. He's lost in the clouds planning their own wedding until reality crashes back down on his head as Steve extends his hand and introduces himself as Dustin's brother.
Eddie, of course, does not know that Steve is not actually related to anyone in this family legally or otherwise and no one thinks to clue him in since they're all so accustomed to the family dynamic.
If Google had been around in the 80s Eddie's search history would be full of "Is it illegal to date my uncle's step-son? NOT RELATED BY BLOOD" "how many degrees of separation in the family tree is acceptable?"
Que Eddie desperately trying to suppress his crush and not ruin his uncle's happiness by wooing his almost step-cousin ew like he really wants to.
But it's so hard! Steve is so beautiful and kind and dorky and a little weird and basically everything Eddie could possibly want in a boyfriend! Eddie wants to bite his freckles and hold his hand so badly but he won't ruin Wayne's future marriage because he kissed his future stepson like they're characters in those soap operas Claudia likes. He won't!
And then to make matters worse Steve seems like he really wants to bond with Eddie. He's always asking him to hang out wether that's going to the mall to hang out with his best friend Robin or swapping tapes at Claudia's house or showing Eddie all his favorite spots in Hawkins. (Steve is very much dropping hints that he wants to date Eddie who he's 96% sure is into him but Eddie is too caught up to notice)
It comes to a head on the day of the engagement. Wayne enlisted all three of "his boys" to help set up a nice dinner party with their closest friends, something Claudia has always mentioned wanting to host, while Joyce invites her out for some shopping and girl time. Steve and Wayne do most of the cooking while Eddie and Dustin are on set up picking up the flowers and pulling the nice table setting down from the attic before separating to get dressed in their nice outfits.
It's like a moment from a fairytale when Steve walks down the stairs and smiles at him. He's so fucking handsome it makes Eddie's heart ache with the cold realization that he's fallen completely in love with a man he can't have. Eddie can feel a prickling behind his eyes but he brutally shoves the sensation down. Today isn't about him.
Eddie puts on a happy face. It's not hard, he is truly happy for Wayne. His uncle deserves the world and both him and Claudia looked so in love when she said yes. He just wishes it didn't have to mean never having the man of his dreams. Eddie sticks the party out and he thinks he did a pretty good job hiding his mood right up until Dustin barges into the basement where the hideaway bed lives. The plan was always for the whole new family unit to stay the night so Eddie heads down as soon as it is acceptable to fall face-first into the pillows and trash around a little bit. Maybe even scream. Sue him, he's heartbroken.
That's how Dustin finds him and he immediately starts crowing that he knew something was up with Eddie. He starts pestering in true Dustin fashion until Eddie inelegently blurts out "I'M IN LOVE WITH MY FUTURE COUSIN IN LAW!"
Dustin blinks at him for a few minutes while Eddie freaks out because he's been so good only for Dustin to bully a confession out of him the day his uncle got engaged like a jerk!
But then Dustin is literally rolling around on the floor howling with laughter and Eddie has never wanted to strangle someone and disappear at the same time in his whole life. He's about to start asking Dustin what the fuck is up when the younger boy sits up and says "He's not my real brother!" at which point it's Eddie's turn to blink at Dustin in silence.
Dustin explains that while Steve is definitely his brother in all the ways that matter he's not actually related to Dustin or Claudia, nor was he ever legally adopted.
Eddie hardly lets Dustin finish his story before he's booking it up the stairs to Steve's room with a truly unprecedented display of athleticism on his part. He franticly taps on the door, aware enough to avoid banding on it like he would like to lest he disturb the newly engaged couple down the hall.
Steve opens the door, eyes wide and slightly frantic. As soon as his eyes meet Eddie's they disappear from his eyeline because Eddie has dropped to his knees, hands clasped together, and begs "Mary me!"
Of course, they don't get engaged that night. Eddie kind of just panicked and said the first thing that came to his head, but they kissed and began to date with the full blessing of their weird little family.
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vinelark · 8 months ago
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i don’t remember if i ever shared this here, but a while ago i posted a little twitter thread about bats and gas station snacks and some very talented podficcers made a podfic of it! 🎧
[podfic] Jersey Vigilantes Don't Pump Gas by isweedan & reena_jenkins
original thread (text under the cut):
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nested tweet reading: ever since i learned gotham is supposed to be in new jersey i can’t get this concept out of my head: [a badly drawn bumper sticker that says “jersey vigilantes don’t pump gas”] / quote tweet reading: the batmobile can’t just slip in and out of a gas station unnoticed. an employee HAS to go fill up the tank. meanwhile the tired night shift cashier knows the various robin eras because they come in to buy different snacks as time goes on.
one night while the manager is out filling *the literal batmobile* the cashier blinks and comes face to face with a child in a leotard and green boots, buying a pack of twizzlers. “thanks!” the first robin calls, somehow vaulting over two rows of shelves on his way out the door.
years later, after a stretch of quiet weeks, a new, curly-haired robin comes in and grabs a bag of flamin hot pepper puffs. the cashier doesn’t even think robin 2 actually likes them, but he looks really satisfied with himself every time he drops them on the counter.
(even after the second robin abruptly stops coming in, the cashier keeps slipping flamin hot pepper puffs onto their order list. no one else ever buys them, but it just—feels like the thing to do, somehow.)
a stretch of months without a robin, oddly tense. then the third robin appears, even smaller than the first two. he slips inside and buys a cup of black coffee and drains it in one go right at the coffee station, nervously eyeing the door like he’s afraid he’ll be caught.
the fourth robin, when she shows up, makes a beeline for the protein bars. finally, the cashier thinks, someone remotely sensible for this line of work. (though maybe not sensible enough—or maybe TOO sensible—because small caffeine robin is back a few months later.)
the fifth robin, when he first appears, approaches the counter. “you will direct me to the best snacks new jersey has to offer,” he tells the cashier.
“uh,” the cashier says. “i like sour patch kids, myself.”
robin 5 nods. “i will take a bag of sour patch children.”
(one night, not much later, red hood strolls through the door. the cashier has lived in gotham for over a decade now; they barely blink, even when nightwing bounds in after him.
“oh, shit, flamin hot pepper puffs,” red hood says. “i haven’t had these in ages.”
“aw, come on,” nightwing says, already holding a pack of twizzlers. “no one else can stand those.”
“why do you think i got them in the first place, dickhead?” red hood says. “to fend off new jersey’s number one snack thief.” and he buys buys every bag in stock.)
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whatsk-poppinhomies · 9 months ago
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Pairing : Dad!Bangchan x F!Reader TW : Chans daughter is not readers child ; Chans ex wife and daughter are shit starters ; drama of course ; angsty ; honestly, poor Chan ; fluffy ending though ; slightly suggestive at the end as well ; Word Count : 6.5k Request : Anonny : Please write an angsty / fluffy fic about Dad!chan who, after years of not dating, finally decides to get back into dating & when he finally finds someone he doesn't tell reader he has a teenage daughter because he doesn't know how reader would feel about it but when reader finds out they're really upset and avoid him and his daughter reaches out to reader and convinces reader to talk to Chan and make up because she hates seeing her dad upset. A/N : This request is so cute and I'm so happy I get to write it. Of course, it will be super drama because I love when it happens, and with Chans recent bbl messages we know this man loves this kind of shit, so... This is for Chan and Chan stans and we love Chan!
“I got a call from your teacher today, Ella.” Chan said as his daughter walked through the front door. “They said your grades haven’t been the best lately, that you haven’t been focusing in class. Is something wrong? Do you have something going on?” He didn’t want to be the kind of father that always got on his child when their grades were below average, but he also didn’t want his daughter to flunk out. He wanted to see her be successful and happy in life, that’s all he ever wanted. 
“I’ve just been going through some stuff, dad.” Ella mumbled as she kicked her shoes into the corner near the front door and dropped her bags onto the floor. “Mom said she’s been trying to get in touch with you lately. I guess she saw that you’ve been posting about going out on your facebook.” She pulled out the chair across the table from Chan. “Why don’t I get to meet your new girlfriend?” 
Chan rolled his eyes, finally looking up from his phone to look at his daughter. “You’re changing the subject. What I do in my spare time isn’t important. Your grades are. So tell me, what kind of stuff have you been going through that’s been keeping you from being able to focus. Maybe I can help.” 
She huffed loudly, the attitude that he was warned would come along with a teenage daughter was in full force now. “It’s not even important anyway… Don’t you have a date to go on tonight? That’s all you ever talk about anymore. It’s like you don’t even care that mom left…” It was finally making sense to him, but it hurt that she felt that way. He had been kind enough to keep his ex wife’s dirty secrets just that, a secret, so that Ellas view of her mother wouldn’t be warped. He was trying to do the right thing, but it was becoming harder and harder. 
“I do care that your mother left… I was hurt by it for a long time, El. It’s been 8 years, and I think that it’s time that I’ve finally moved on because she isn’t coming back. Your mother has gotten remarried, divorced, and married again in those 8 years and I haven’t been with anyone until just a few months ago. I don’t think you’re being very fair right now.” He tried to explain, but he could tell, he could just see it in her face that she wasn’t ready to hear about it. “And, just so you know, I don’t have a date to go on tonight. I was planning on being here to help you with your homework and studying so that I don’t get another call like I had today.” 
///
“Had a late night in the studio, huh?” You said as you walked up behind Chan, your arms draping over his shoulders as he sat in front of his computer in his office. You could tell he was tired, he could barely sit up straight and his eyes wouldn’t stay open for longer than a few seconds. “It’s okay to take a break, bubs. It’s 3racha, not ChrisRacha.” 
He snickered at the little name, finally swiveling his chair around to face you and pulling you down onto his lap. “You sound like everyone else. I don’t like taking breaks, it gives me too much time to think about the time that I’m wasting.” He explained, his voice was groggy and not even laced, but completely filled with exhaustion. “I’ll be fine once I go over your place tonight, we can cuddle up and watch a movie.” He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his hot breath against your skin sending a wave of goosebumps all over. 
“They’re repainting all of the apartments, I can’t even go into my own house right now. I’ve been staying with my parents.” You reminded him, although you were sure you had texted him about it and told him about it in the days leading up to the renovation. “We can go over to your place. We’ve been dating for 4 months now and you haven’t even invited me over.” 
There was a reason for that, a reason that you didn’t know of, but he felt it was just better if you didn’t find out. The last thing he wanted was for you to run off because he had a daughter, not just any daughter though, a teenage daughter who was still hung up on the divorce of her parents. She wasn’t the easiest to get along with, and although Chan had tried to butter her up to the prospect of one day meeting you, she didn’t take too kindly to the fact that he was dating again. “My place is a mess…” He lied, trying to muffle his words in the fabric of your shirt so you wouldn’t pick up on it. “We can go to a hotel if you’d like.” 
“That seems sleezy…” You mumbled, and he felt awful, he truly did. It felt like he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. He absolutely loves his daughter with every ounce of his heart, his entire being, he loved being her father. He loved you too though, you had been the light at the end of a very long, very dark tunnel. He didn’t want to have to choose between the two of you, it just didn’t seem fair. “I guess we’ll just wait for my apartment to be ready…” He could feel you trying to pull away, he could tell that you were upset, he didn’t want you to leave like that, so he tightened his arms around you, holding you close to him. 
“You’re not sleezy! I’m sorry I even recommended that, you’re better than that.” He quickly tried to get himself out of the hole that he had dug, it felt like he was clawing his way to the top, and everytime he got halfway out, he’d slip and he’d fall right back to the bottom. “I’ll clean my place, I just want it to be perfect for when you come over. Okay? You deserve the best.” 
The tension slowly left your body, he felt you soften up against him, and for a moment, it felt like he could breathe again. “Okay… Fine. I’ll wait… I just really miss sleeping next to you.” You whispered, and those words made his stomach feel warm and fuzzy. He missed sleeping next to you too. “I have to get back to work though… I’ll see you later. Try taking a break though, take a nap or something, that’s what the couch is for.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek before getting up, his arms reluctantly loosening around you until you were free to go. “Seriously, get some sleep.” 
///
“Where are you going?” Ella asked from the couch, watching Chan storm to the front door and yank his coat off the hook. “Did you and your girlfriend get into a little fight? Do you have to go kiss and make up now?” The mocking tone in her voice would usually only slightly irritate him, but he was already beyond irritated at the reason he had to leave in the first place. 
“No, it’s your damn mother.” He snapped, pulling his shoes on before grabbing his keys. “I don’t know how long she’ll hold me up, there’s food in the freezer, or you can grab my wallet out of my bag and order yourself something. Try to do some studying while I’m gone, please?” And without another word he was out the front door, slamming it behind him. 
What Chan didn’t know was that he had left his wallet at work on his studio desk, and you had gone into his studio before leaving to see if he was there but only found his wallet. He must have left the building without saying anything to you, and you wondered if maybe he was sick or something had happened back at his place. You were doing the right thing, at least that’s what you felt you were doing. You were just going to take his wallet home to him and check up on him. You didn’t mind that his house might be a little dirty, you completely understood that he was busy, you didn’t expect his house to be immaculate. 
You weren’t sure why you were so nervous to stand in front of his front door, but a chill ran through your body and you had to take a few breaths before even lifting your hand to knock. Once you did, you took a step back, listening to the locks being undone before the door opened. It wasn’t who you expected to see, it wasn’t Chan, it was a girl, she looked younger, at least 15 or 16. “Oh, I’m sorry. I must have read the address wrong.” You quickly apologized, bowing your head to the girl before turning away. 
“Who are you looking for?” The girl asked, and what you weren’t aware of was that she had seen Chans wallet in your hand, she knew that you had come to the right address, she was just playing a game that you didn’t know about. You quickly said his name, and she let out a soft hum. “He’s out right now. It’s date night for him and my mom.” You felt your stomach sink, deeper and deeper until it couldn’t go any further. “Is that his wallet? Thank you so much for bringing it, I’m sure he’ll be happy to know that you brought it back. Hopefully he’ll answer his phone so he can pick it up and pay the bill, you know?” 
You nodded slowly, the bile from your stomach rising into your throat. “Y-Yeah… Of course… H-Here you go.” You stammered, your hand shaking as you handed the wallet over to the girl. You knew she wasn’t lying, she looked so much like Chan it was uncanny. Why hadn’t he told you? What was he even doing with you? He had a wife, or at least a girlfriend or fiancee… He had a child… But he was going around with you? It was beginning to add up though… Why he always wanted to go over your house. Why he’d rather go to a hotel than to bring you to his own place. You felt absolutely sick. 
“Have a good night!” The girl chimed cheerfully as you made your way back to your car, the light from inside the house that had illuminated the front yard faded until you were covered in darkness. You were devastated, you were heartbroken… You had never felt more humiliated in your life and all you wanted to do was go crawl underneath a rock and hide there. 
///
The meeting with his ex wife the night before had stressed Chan out beyond belief. He couldn’t believe that after 8 years she wanted to fight for custody of Ella now. Her reasoning behind it would have been laughable if they hadn’t been so damn ridiculous. By the time he had gotten home though, Ella was already in bed and he was so tired from dealing with his ex that he had gone right to bed as well. By morning, Ella had already left for school, so he’d have to wait until he got off work and she got home from school to even talk to her about what her mother had said. 
Now, he was only looking forward to seeing you. You were the only person at this point who could calm him down and bring him some semblance of peace, at least for the short amount of time that he got to be with you. “Hey, lovely.” He called to you when he caught you walking down the hall. Usually you’d smile and wave, you’d even run over to him sometimes if the hall was empty. This time you just shook your head before lowering it and walking right by him. 
It was a shock to say the least, and his mind immediately jumped to the worst, although he couldn’t be 100% sure of what had happened that would cause you to be acting like this. Was it because of the hotel comment the day before? Was it because he wouldn’t let you come over to his house? It couldn’t be that though, he had talked to you about it. It had to be something more, but he couldn’t figure it out. You looked absolutely pissed, like you didn’t want anything to do with him. 
“Y/N!” He called out your name now, jogging down the hall to catch up with you, but you didn’t even look up at him, and you sure as hell didn’t slow down. In fact, it seemed like you sped up, like you were trying to get away from him. “Hey… What… What’s wrong? What happened? Are you okay?” He lowered his voice but quickened his steps to keep up with you, trying to duck down just enough to get a view of your face, but every time he got close enough you’d look away. 
“I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see you. Whatever it was that you made me think we had, it’s over. I’d like it if you left me alone now.” You stated flatly, your arms tightening around the multitude of folders that you clutched to your chest. “I’m changing groups, I won’t be one of your staff anymore as well, so please, don’t bother me anymore.” 
Something had happened, and it wasn’t something that could easily be fixed like Chan thought. It was worse, way worse. You had basically fired yourself from being his group's staff because of whatever happened. “Hold on!” His fingers wrapped around your upper arm, stopping you from going any further. “So you’re just… Breaking up with me? You’re not even going to tell me why!?” His voice cracked as it rose in pitch, his chest rising and falling heavily as the panic fully set in. “I fucking love you, Y/N… You can’t just do this to me and not tell me why.” 
When you finally looked up, he could see your eyes were glistening, your bottom lashes bedazzled with twinkling tears that clung onto them. You were just as upset as he was. “Stop pretending, Christopher!” You croaked out, sniffling loudly once the words left your chapped lips. “I refuse to be the rebound chick that you think you can run to when your marriage is on the rocks. I won’t be strung along by you, not anymore.” You took a few deep, shaky breaths to compose yourself before you pulled your arm free of Chans hold. “Now, if you don’t mind… I have another group to meet. I have work to do. I do believe that you have some work to do as well.” You bowed your head to him before turning and walking away, leaving him more confused than he was before. 
His marriage… It had fallen apart years ago when he had come home to find his wife in bed with another man while his daughter was fast asleep in the room across the hall. It had been disgusting, heartbreaking, it would have been his downfall if not for his daughter and the moral, mental, and emotional support of the guys. He wasn’t sure why it was being brought up, he didn’t even know how you had found out, but that same feeling of devastation that he had felt 8 years ago was flooding him once again. 
The guys… They were the only ones who would be able to talk to you, they were the only ones who knew about the secret past that Chan was trying so hard to hide from you. Would they do something like that though? Would they hurt him like that? “Yo! What’s up?” Changbin said as he came up behind Chan, his arm draping over his shoulder. “You’re… crying? What happened?” The cheerful tone was immediately dropped, and even though Changbin was younger, he was in full protection mode. 
“Y/N… She… She broke up with me…. She knows about Sana…” He gasped out the words, each of them getting caught in his throat, it felt like he was choking. “Somebody told her… Someone… They had to have told her! Who!?” He was shouting now, his sadness turning to anger in a matter of seconds. The look of confusion of Changbins face was enough for Chan to know that he had no idea what Chan was talking about, and that in itself proved his innocence. That left 6 more guys to question. 
“Y-You know that none of us would do that to you… Why would we do that? You were happy!” Changbin quickly defended the others as well, seeing in Chans eyes that he was on the warpath and he wasn’t going to stop until he found out who had told you. “I… I do know she went to the studio last night after you left… She… She said something about your wallet but… Maybe she went to your house to drop it off and… and…-” 
“Ella…” Chan muttered out the name, a loud groan leaving him as his head fell back. “I have to go… Will you be okay? Can you run practice for me?” Now he was in a hurry, a hurry to get home, to talk to you… He had so many things he had to do, he didn’t even know where to begin. Changbin nodded his head, patting Chans shoulder before taking a step back. Truthfully, Chan didn’t know what the hell he was going to do… But he knew he had to do something. He wasn’t going to lose you… He couldn’t. 
///
“Sit. Now.” Chan said, not even giving his daughter time to fully come through the door before the words left his mouth. He had been sitting at the table, thinking over and over about how he’d go about bringing it up to her, but now that she was finally home, all of his thoughts had gone out the window and all he could feel was irritation. She rolled her eyes, dropping off her bag and kicking her shoes off like she did every day, heading in the direction of her bedroom. “Did you not hear me? I want to talk to you.” 
“About what?” She snapped, whipping around to face him. “About the lady that showed up on our front porch last night?” Chans eyes widened, he didn’t even have to drag it out of her, she wasn’t a liar… and for that, he was proud, he had at least taught her one good thing. “Did she dump you? Well good… You don’t deserve to be happy. Not after what you did to mom…” After… what he did…? He was stunned into silence, his head cocked to the side as he tried to think about what he could have possibly done to make him the bad guy in all of this. “She told me all about it, don’t try to act like you’re so innocent.” 
Those weren’t Ellas words, those were her mothers words and she was speaking them for her. “I tried so hard to protect your mother for some reason… So that you wouldn’t think badly of her… And this is what she does.” He mumbled, running his hand through his hair and sighing heavily. “Can you please sit? I really need to talk to you…” He stretched his legs under the table, pushing out the chair across from him and motioning to it with his head. He could see the reluctance, but she finally made her way over, dropping down into the chair, but not without an eye roll and a look of disgust. “I didn’t want to tell you the truth… I didn’t want you to see your mother as anything less than what she is… But I wasn’t the one who did anything. Your mother is the reason we’re divorced…” 
“You’re a liar… She said that you’d lie…” Ella mumbled, her arms crossing over her chest as she glared at her father. “Just like you lied to that lady. She didn’t even know I existed! You kept me a secret from her… Why? Are you embarrassed of me? Are you ashamed of me?” The sulky teenage attitude subsided, and he could see that she wasn’t just angry, she was upset. He never meant for it to be like this, he didn’t even think that something like this would happen. It’s not like he planned on keeping his daughter hidden forever… He just didn’t want to spring it all on you at the beginning of the relationship. 
“No! God, no… El… You are an amazing daughter, you’re smart and you’re funny… You’re the most wonderful thing I’ve ever created. I’m so proud of you…” He whispered, and he could see the tears beginning to form in her eyes. He should have told her these things a long time ago, maybe she wouldn’t be acting out, but it was too late, and now all he could do was try to fix things piece by piece. “I didn’t want to bring someone into your life unless I knew that it was serious… It’s one thing for me to be hurt… But I didn’t want you to potentially get close to her just for her to leave and hurt you too.” He swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath to prepare himself before continuing. “I divorced your mother… Because she cheated on me, Ella. Do you really think I would have gotten custody of you if it were the other way around? The man she married… That’s… That’s the guy… And they’re already divorced… And she’s already married again. She’s been married twice since the divorce, and I… I haven’t been with anyone until a couple months ago. Do you think that would be the case if I was the one who had screwed up?” He could see the gears turning in her mind as she thought about everything that he was saying, and he could see that it was all adding up. “Your mother wanted to meet up with me yesterday because she’s trying to get custody of you…” 
Ellas eyes widened and her head shook fast. “No… I don’t… I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to live with her, dad.” The words were rushed out, full fledged panic written across her features. “Don’t let her take me… I want to stay with you… I’m sorry… I’m sorry I told the lady that you were having date night with mom. I’m sorry that I ruined it… I’m sorry… Please don’t let her take me.” She was crying now, absolutely bawling, and it broke his heart to see his daughter so upset. 
He jumped out of his chair, running around to her side of the table and pulling her up into his arms. Right now, she wasn’t just a teenager with a bit of an attitude problem… She was his little girl, and he was going to protect her and he was going to keep her safe. He was going to fix everything, no matter what it took. “She’s not going to get you, she won’t win. You’re staying here with me… I promise.” 
///
“Have you gotten a hold of her?” Ella asked, dropping down onto the couch beside her father. It had been weeks since the last time he had spoken to you, but he had seen you in the halls at the building every single day. No matter how many times he tried to stop you and explain everything, you’d just keep walking like you didn’t know him at all. Ella could see that it was breaking him, and she knew that it was her fault. “I’m really sorry, dad…” She mumbled. 
Your picture was still his lockscreen, and every time a notification would pop up on his phone he would jump up, a single second of excitement and wishful thinking, only to be let down once he realized it was someone, anyone but you. “It’s okay… I’m gonna try to get some work done. Let me know when you get hungry, I’ll make us some dinner, yeah?” And she nodded slowly, waiting for Chan to get up and go into his little office before running to the front door and pulling on her shoes. If he wasn’t able to fix it, maybe she could. 
The walk to the building wasn’t too far, and she knew that, for the most part, whenever her father went into his office it was so he could cry in private. That usually lasted a couple hours, and she was sure that she wouldn’t need too much time. 
Everyone in the building knew her, they had heard so much about Chans daughter that she was looked at as an idol herself. They all welcomed her warmly, but she was on a mission. “Hi! Would you happen to know where an Y/L/N Y/N is? My dad sent me to make sure she got something.” She came up with it quickly, and no one seemed to question it either. They gave her the information just as fast and sent her on her way… It was far too easy… She’d have to talk to her dad about that. 
The ride up the elevator gave her enough time to think about what she would say, or at least a little bit of what she’d say. Truth be told, she was nervous. She wanted things to go well for her fathers sake, but she knew that the trouble she had caused and what she did could have irreversible damage. 
When the doors slid open, it was like fate had brought her here at this exact moment, because you were standing right outside the doors. “Oh… Uhm… I-I remember you…” You murmured, bowing your head to her before taking a step back. “I think you’re on the wrong floor though… Your father is a couple floors down.” 
Ella shook her head, stepping out of the elevator, trying to look like she wasn’t a nervous wreck standing in front of you. “I’m here to talk to you.” She said, her head held high just to exemplify the false feeling of confidence that she was trying to give off. “Are you busy?” 
“I’m very sorry if me being with your father created any problems. I’m not with him anymore though… And, with all due respect… I’m just trying to move on.” 
“That’s the problem though!” Ella blurted out as you moved past her and stepped into the elevator, turning around quickly on her heel to face you, her hand pressed against the elevator door to keep it from closing. “Him and my mother aren’t together… They haven’t been together for 8 years. I… I was upset because… I didn’t understand what happened… I didn’t know why my parents weren’t together and… My mom lied and… And I’m sorry. My dad really loves you… And he wanted me to meet you… And he’s been crying every night because I ruined your relationship because I lied just like my mom and I’m… I’m really sorry, ma’am…” 
She was once again crying, and you didn’t really know what to do, but it felt wrong to just stand there and watch her cry, so you hesitantly stepped out of the elevator and gave her the most awkward one armed hug. “It’s… It’s okay…” You murmured, and much to your surprise, she turned her body completely toward you and wrapped her arms around you. Whether there was a maternal bone in your body at all before this moment or not, you immediately felt the urge to comfort her, to make sure she was okay, to wipe her tears and tell her that everything would be fine. “Hey… Hey, let’s go to my office. We can get a drink and some tissues and then… I’ll take you home. Is that okay?” 
Ella nodded slowly, her face scrunched up and her bottom lip pushed out. She really did look like her father. “Will you talk to him?” She asked weakly, and as much as you hated him… Now that you knew the truth… It felt like the right thing to do, so you hummed in agreement to her question, leading her down the hall to your little office and pushing the door open for her. “Y-You know… You’re still his main picture on his phone. He’s waiting for you to text him or call him or something… He misses you so much.” 
You were sure that she didn’t mean to tell you so much, and you were very sure that Chan would be incredibly embarrassed if he found out that his daughter was telling you so much. “I’ll talk to him, I promise… Pinky promise.” You held out your hand, your pinky extended to her, and she quickly latched her finger around yours, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips. 
“You are really pretty… He wasn’t lying… And you’re really nice too. I would be really mad at me if I were you…” She lowered her head, her entire body slouching forward as she sat in the chair across your desk. “Why aren’t you mad at me?” Her voice was below a whisper, her question genuine, and you didn’t really know how to answer it. 
“Well…” You began, your fingers drumming against your lap as you leaned back in your chair. “I don’t blame you for what you did… You’re a child and… And your parents divorced. I’m sure that any child would be upset if they found out either of their parents was dating someone else, especially if the kid doesn’t understand why their parents divorced in the first place. You were protected from the truth… But it made you do something that you regret. It’s still not your fault though, it’s no one's fault.” You reached across your desk, your hand faced up for her, and she slowly placed her hand in yours, the smile from earlier returning to her face, but this time it was just a little bigger and it reached her eyes. “Let’s go see your dad, yeah?” 
///
Chan had at some point cried himself to sleep while sitting in front of his computer, but the sound of a soft knock on the door had him jolting awake. “Dad?” Ellas voice came between the small crack in the door as she peeked inside, and he quickly wiped the sleep from his eyes as he got up from his chair, almost bringing his entire laptop with him since he forgot to take the headphones off. “I ordered dinner for us… It’s here.” She said between little giggles at the way he stumbled. It was nice to hear her laugh, he hadn’t heard it in a bit, not from anyone in the house. He wondered what had changed. 
“You didn’t have to do that, I would have cooked for us…” He said somberly, but he knew that she was doing it as a favor for him. He was a wreck, it was visibly noticeable that he hadn’t had more than a few hours of sleep in the past two weeks, he had bags under his eyes and his hair was a mess. He was a shell of the man that he once was when he had you, but he knew he had to get better, he wasn’t sure how he would do that, but it wasn’t fair to Ella to constantly be like this, it would only make her feel more guilty. “I’ll be right out… Thank you.” He said when she hovered in the doorway, and he watched her walk away. There was a bounce in her step, she hadn’t been this peppy in a while. He was genuinely curious and now he was rushing out of the little studio room so that he’d be able to sit down and talk to her, maybe he could find out what was going on. 
“I hope you don’t mind, I brought a friend over.” She said from the kitchen. He was adamant that he had never heard her bring up a friend, especially not one that would come over and visit. Was it a boy? She never mentioned liking anyone at school… Was she too scared to talk to him about those kinds of things? He made a mental note to sit down and talk to her about it one day this week. “Are you coming?” She called out and he hummed in agreement, trudging out of the little room with his head hung just a little. 
This wasn’t the first impression that he wanted one of his daughter's friends to have of him as her father. He wanted to look more respectable for the sake of Ellas reputation. It seemed like he didn’t really have a choice though, she was rushing him to come out, and he didn’t want to keep her and whoever she had over waiting. “I apologize, I wasn’t really told that you’d be coming over.” Chan began as he walked down the hall, and he completely froze when he saw just who his daughter had brought over. 
“I don’t think anyone really knew I was coming over.” You said lightly, the warmest smile spreading across your face as you looked at him. He couldn’t say anything, he couldn’t find words, all he could manage to do was open his mouth and croak out sounds as salty tears pricked his eyes. “Is it… okay… that I’m here?” You asked when the silence lasted longer than you thought it would, and he nodded his head fervently, wiping his eyes with the sleeves of his hoodie. 
“It’s… It’s more than okay… I just… I don’t know why… I don’t mind it though.” He rambled, looking between you and Ella who was currently setting the table for three people instead of the usual two. “You’re… staying for dinner?” He questioned, and you gave him that adorable, heart stopping smile that had stopped him in the halls of the building all of those months ago, the smile that had pushed him over the edge and made him fall for you in the beginning. 
“Yes she is.” Ella spoke up, clapping her hands together to get both of your attention. “Do you want me to eat in my room… So the two of you can talk? I’m sure you have a lot to talk about… I can leave you alone if you’d like.” But you shook your head, walking over to the table and playfully ruffling her hair before opening the takeout bag and pulling out the contents. 
“I’d like it a whole lot if you stayed and ate with us… But if you want to eat in your room… If your dad says it’s okay… Then you can.” You sounded so… sweet, the way a mother would talk to her own daughter, and the craziest part was that Ella smiled at you before taking a seat at the table, she actually listened to you… There was no attitude that came alone with it. “Are you just going to stand there and look at the food, or are you going to join us in eating it?” You asked, bringing Chan out of his own thoughts and back into the room. 
“Yeah… Yeah, I’m coming…” Chan whispered, walking into the dining room and taking his usual seat, but the aura at the table was a lot different now. It’s like the whole room had gotten 10 times brighter, and no matter which way he looked he was met with a warm smile. He had so many questions, but he knew that he had all the time in the world to ask them, and regardless of the answer… He knew that things would be better now, all of the pieces were falling back into place, and the picture was more beautiful than he had ever imagined it to be. 
~6 Months Later~
“You’re gonna absolutely crush this test, I know you will.” You stood at the stove, preparing breakfast as Ella sat at the table, her face buried in her text book to get as much last minute studying in before she had to go to school. “No matter what, I want you to remember that your dad and I are so proud of you and how hard you work. Okay? We love you.” Ella hummed softly, not even looking up from her book, but you could see that she was smiling, and that was enough of a response for you to know that she had heard you, that she was listening. You carefully placed her plate down beside her, lightly tapping the table to get her attention. “Please eat. Okay?” 
Chan ran out of the bedroom, his eyes barely even opened, his shirt wrinkled and twisted and his hair sticking up in all different directions. “Did she leave yet?!” He asked rather loudly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and blinking a few times before focusing in on his daughter who was looking up at him, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. “Don’t laugh, it’s not funny. I wanted to give you a hug before you left.” He pouted, and she quickly got up out of her chair, rushing over to Chan and wrapping her arms around him. “You’ll do great. I-” 
“No more speeches! You guys are going to make me cry!” Ella dramatically whined, pulling away from Chan and running back to the table to pack her things into her bag and then shoveling as much food into her mouth as she could before going to the front door. “Love you! I’ll see you later!” She mumbled with her mouth full of food, and before the two of you could say it back she was out the door. 
Once the door was shut, Chan walked over to you, his arms wrapping around your from behind as he rested his chin against your shoulder. “Hey…” He murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek that was dampened by tears that you hadn’t even realized had begun to fall. “What’s wrong, lovey?” He cooed, gently turning you around to face him, his head cocked to the side. 
“I don’t know… I just… I’ve only been here for six months and… We’ve gotten so close and… She’ll be going off to college soon if that’s what she wants to do… But… I’m gonna miss her and the house is gonna be so empty and…” You pouted up at Chan who couldn’t help but find it adorable the way you were right now. It was the most heartwarming thing, to know that you loved his daughter so much already that you were crying at the thought of her leaving. 
“Well… We have the house to ourselves for a couple of hours… We could watch a movie or something to take your mind off of being sad… Or… We could go have some fun… Surprise Ella with a brother or a sister when she comes home from college…” Your eyes widened at the suggestion, but your feet were already moving in the direction of the bedroom, that all too familiar tingly feeling building in your stomach. “We can watch a movie when we’re done… If you’re not too tired.” 
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peachyhalstead · 9 months ago
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married man | j. halstead
request:Can you do a Jay Halstead x Reader. They are both married and have a child together. The child just started pre-k or kindergarten and since the reader is heavily pregnant Jay has been dropping off and picking up their kid. And maybe like the single moms are flirting with Jay since they think he might be a single dad but they get surprised when the reader picks the kid one day after giving birth.
pairing: established (married) fem!reader x jay halstead
word count: 1.75k
warnings: none??
a/n: dad!jay dad!jay dad!jay !!!!! they have a little boy (his name is dylan) and a newborn girlie (what should her name be)
------
Grumbling as the alarm went off, you blindly reached over and whacked Jay on the chest. “Why’s it have to be so loud?”
Jay chuckled, silencing his phone’s alarm. “It’s not even that loud, babe.”
You glared at him through narrow eyes. “If I wasn’t about to pop right now I’d give you a piece of my mind.”
Letting out a hearty laugh, Jay got out of bed and folded his portion of the comforter back up, trapping the heat for you. “Only a few more weeks, babe. Then you’ll be able to move without having to pee every two seconds.”
You slowly followed Jay, yawning and rubbing the nine-month bump as you headed into the kitchen to package your son’s lunch.
He had recently started kindergarten, and loved telling you and Jay about all his escapades with his classmates as he learned different things.
“I could’ve done that, you didn’t have to get up.” Jay said, popping a capsule into the coffee machine and starting it.
Shrugging, you zipped the lunchbox closed and set it next to the matching blue backpack, one hand going to rub at the sore spot on your back. “I knew I wasn’t going to be able to fall back to sleep.”
Jay noticed, and his hands slowly made their way to the exact spot that bothered you in your first pregnancy. “Who do you thinks going to ask me out today, hm?”
Laughing softly, you clicked your tongue at Jay. “You really enjoy that, don’t you? Miss getting hit on?”
Jay shook his head. “Don’t miss it one bit. Just enjoy seeing those soccer moms think their whispers are quiet.”
A few weeks ago Jay had mentioned that some of the moms at drop-off had been talking about Jay, commenting on his lack of wedding band and no significant other ever at drop off or pick up.
“Momma, when will you go to school with me?” Dylan asked, your son finally making his appearance in his pajamas.
“Soon, little bug. Once Little Sister is here, I’ll drop you off with Daddy some days.”
Dylan frowned. “Can Sissy come now?”
You huffed, wanting nothing more than to deliver the weight that seemed to be constantly on your bladder. “I wish, but I think she needs a few more weeks.”
Jay smiled into his coffee cup, phone chiming with a text from Hailey. “Come on, Dyl. Let’s get dressed so you can show your friends your new shoes.”
Dylan beamed at the thought, and followed Jay back to his room, leaving you alone in the warm kitchen. The aroma of coffee lingered as you found a chair to rest in, hand absently tracing circles over your distended belly.
A sigh of contentment escaped you; this was your world, and despite the groggy mornings and occasional aggravations - like trying to convince Dylan to brush his teeth properly - you wouldn’t change it for anything else. That was the beauty of family - it wasn’t always perfect, but it was yours. And that made all the imperfections precious in their own odd way.
The sound of Jay's voice pulled you from your thoughts as he asked Dylan to choose between two shirts. You smiled, knowing how seriously your little boy took these morning decisions. Sipping on some water and slowly standing up, you decided to start breakfast.
The scent of eggs and bacon soon filled the room, joining the still lingering coffee aroma. Dylan would be excited; he loved his simple morning breakfasts. As you were flipping an egg, Jay returned with Dylan in tow. Their matching grins caught your eye.
“What are you two up to?” You questioned playfully, adjusting your hold on your bump.
“Nothing,” they both chimed in unison, their grins growing even wider.
“Okay,” you drew out the first syllable, grabbing a plate and moving the eggs for Dylan to eat, blowing on them as you cut them into pieces.
“Eat, then Daddy will bring you to school.” You smiled, cracking a few more eggs and grabbing a tortilla and the toppings you knew Jay liked, quickly making a breakfast wrap for him.
Wrapping it in foil, you smiled to yourself as you heard Jay helping Dylan put on his sneakers.
“Ok, we gotta go, Little Man! Go give Momma a kiss.”
Dylan skipped over to you, wrapping his little arms around your legs, promising you he’d come home with a drawing to put in the nursery.
Thanking him, you smiled at Jay as he grabbed the wrap and his badge, stopping to press a kiss to your forehead. “Take it easy today, babe.”
“I will. Go break hearts and catch perps, Jay.”
——
Jay hid his eye roll as he followed Dylan to the drop off location, ignoring the looks from the few single mothers nearby.
“I mean, who in their right mind wouldn’t grab that ass? He’s such a good dad, too.”
Jay overheard one of the mothers and shook his head, stifling a laugh. He still found it amusing and somewhat flattering to know that he was the topic of their little gossip circle. But he also knew firmly where his heart lay - at home with you and Dylan, and soon, your new little girl.
As Dylan scampered off towards his classroom, he turned to Jay with a big grin. "Daddy, do you think I can tell Mrs. Johnson about Sissy coming soon?"
Jay bent down to his level, ruffling his hair affectionately. "Of course, buddy. I'm sure she will be thrilled to hear it."
At that moment, a pair of giggling women walked by, shooting him suggestive glances over their shoulders. He merely smiled politely before turning away.
Arriving back at the car, Jay pulled out his phone and saw a text from you: Feeling better now that the house is empty. How did drop off go?
He quickly typed back: Smooth as always. He's telling all his teachers about his soon-to-be little sister.
Satisfied, he started the vehicle and headed towards the precinct. His phone chimed again with your response: That's my boy! Take care at work, Jay.
He chuckled as he imagined you grinning at your phone, feet kicked up on the coffee table even though you often chided him for doing the same thing.
——
The routine didn’t shift for the next few weeks, but the gossiping mothers were surprised when Dylan was dropped off by Will one day, Jay at the hospital where you were currently resting with the newest addition to the family.
“Uncle Will, can we see Momma and Sissy after school?” Dylan asked, tugging on his uncle’s hand.
"Of course, buddy," Will replied with a soft smile, watching as Dylan's face lit up with joy. "I bet they can't wait to see you."
Once Dylan scampered off towards his classroom, Will indulged in a moment of silence. He was used to the emergency room's relentless noise and bustle, so the unfamiliar hush of the school yard in the early morning was a welcome respite. A group of mothers were huddled together, shooting glances his way. Perhaps he was becoming part of their gossip routine now too - he silently hoped otherwise.
Meanwhile, at the hospital, Jay could barely tear his gaze away from you sleeping peacefully, the tiny bundle in his arms a testament to your strength and love. His heart swelled in his chest at the sight; you looked more beautiful than ever, your face radiating an exhausted but blissful glow as your daughter, their daughter, clung onto his finger with her small hand.
Just then, she stirred awake and let out a soft whimper which turned into a loud wail. He quickly got up and started to gently rock her, not wanting her cries to disturb your much-needed rest.
“Hey there, little princess,” he cooed softly as he bounced her gently in his arms. “Let’s not wake Mommy up now.”
After a few minutes of gentle rocking and hushed lullabies - Jay trying his best to remember the ones you sung to Dylan when he was an infant, the baby quieted down, blue eyes peering up at her father.
“Hi, munchkin. You already have half of Chicago’s first responders wrapped around your finger.” He whispered, soft smile at his lips as he thought back to the replies from his team when he sent the photo of the baby in the group chat.
"The other half is itching to meet you. Just wait until Uncle Will gets a hold of you. You're going to be spoiled rotten." He laughed softly, mindlessly tracing a finger over his daughter's tiny forehead.
His phone buzzed where he had left it on the bedside table. It was a message from Will letting him know that Dylan had been dropped off at school and asking if they could come by after school to see the baby.
Jay's heart swelled, even more, knowing his son was equally excited about his little sister's arrival. Jay quickly typed a response, assuring Will they would be more than happy to have visitors later in the day.
——
The day passed in a flurry of nurses checking vitals and bringing meals, phone calls from family and friends, and quiet moments spent marveling over their newest addition. Dylan was bursting with energy when Will brought him by after school, his wide eyes taking in everything with an infectious excitement that had everyone in the room smiling.
"Momma, Sissy is really small!" Dylan whispered in awe as he approached the bed, carefully peering over the edge of the bassinet.
You chuckled at his innocent observation as Jay helped him climb up onto the bed to get a better look. "Yes, she is," you agreed with a fond smile. "You were that small, too, Little Man!”
Dylan looked at you with wide eyes, shaking his head. “Nuh-uh!”
“Mhmm!” You replied, fixing his shirt as he squirmed to get another look at his sister.
“When can you and Sissy come to school?” He asked, looking at you.
Jay laughed quietly, and you looked at your husband. “Soon, Dyl.”
——
Two weeks later, you consoled the crying baby as Jay helped Dylan put his backpack on. “Can Sissy come meet Mrs. Johnson?”
Shaking your head, you carefully strapped the little girl into her carrier, softly rubbing her cheek. “Not yet. Maybe during the spring concert, but she’s still too little.”
Jay stood up and grabbed his keys. “She can help Momma and Daddy drop you off, though. That sound good?”
Dylan’s face lit up at the thought. “Yeah! Everyone will get to see her!” He jumped excitedly before Jay guided him out the door.
Satisfied with your successful early morning, you carried the baby carrier to the car and buckled it in securely at the back seat. Moving around was still a little tough for you but you were slowly getting the hang of things. You climbed into the passenger side, glancing back at Dylan who was squirming in his seat with anticipation.
The drive to the school was filled with Dylan's non-stop chatter about what he was going to show his little sister. Jay had a soft smile on his face as he listened to his son, occasionally glancing at you in admiration and shared joy.
Once they arrived in front of the school, Dylan unbuckled himself and carefully opened your car door for you. “Be careful, Momma!” He cautioned, making Jay chuckle as he followed behind with his son’s backpack.
You smiled, letting Jay go ahead with Dylan so he wasn’t late, working to unstrap your daughter’s carrier so Dylan could see her one last time before he was in school.
“Jay, haven’t seen you the last few days. Is everything okay?” One of the mothers who had tried to hit on Jay asked, faux worry on her face.
Jay wore a smile as he turned to the woman, Dylan's hand tucked safely in his own as they made their way toward the school entrance. "Yeah, everything’s great, actually. My wife just gave birth to our second child," he responded casually, nodding his head towards the car where you were carefully lifting the baby carrier.
The woman blinked in surprise before offering a tight-lipped smile, "Oh, I didn’t know... congratulations."
"Thanks," Jay replied with a nod before turning his attention back to Dylan whose bundle of excitement was barely contained. As Jay opened the door for him to enter he looked into the bright eyes of his son and smiled reassuringly, "You ready?"
Dylan nodded eagerly, already tugging on his father's hand to drag him inside. Jay followed docilely, striding up the hallway towards Dylan's classroom.
Meanwhile, you were still out by the car, struggling slightly with the baby carrier that seemed to weigh even more than your now two-week-old daughter. A few mothers noticed and stepped forward to help you, their faces lighting up at the sight of the infant bundled up against the cold.
"Oh she's absolutely adorable!" One woman cooed, and you recognized her from when Jay was telling you how one of them started to wear low-cut tops after he started doing drop off duty.
You walked with them to the doors, smile brightening when you saw Jay and Dylan at the door, the young boy wanting to say goodbye to his sister.
“Bye, Sissy! Bye, Momma!” Dylan smiled, giving his sister a kiss and hugging your legs, unaware that his farewells caused the mothers who had walked with you to gasp lightly.
Jay’s smile widened at Dylan's display of affection, ruffling his son's hair gently, "Alright, champ. We’ll pick you up later. Have a great day at school."
Dylan nodded eagerly before disappearing into the bustling school building with his teacher. The remaining mothers turned to you, their surprised expressions replaced by warm, slender smiles as they admired your little girl.
Back in the car, you laughed as Jay started the ignition. “Think I felt the daggers from some of the moms when they found out you’re married.”
Jay snorted, turning back to the road to your house. “Well, that or when they found out we have great sex. Either way, watch your back, babe.”
You gawked at Jay’s remark, hitting him in the chest. “Jay! Your daughter is listening!”
“Oh, she’ll hear worse when Ruz babysits her." ------ a/n: send requests if you wanna!!
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nats--sw · 2 months ago
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Inherited Talent | Leah Williamson
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Leah Williamson x reader Leah has finally convinced you that it’s time for your daughter to take her first steps into the world of football. This is based on this universe hey, so, Olivia has grown up a little my masterlist
“There are a lot of girls here,” Olivia murmured, squeezing your hand a little tighter.
“Well, it’s the first day,” you replied, trying to keep your voice cheerful despite the fact that, just like Olivia, your nerves were getting to you.
Leah, on the other hand, was in her element. She moved through the crowd with ease, greeting everyone, posing for pictures with some of the staff, and even a few of the girls who were there for the same as Olivia. Out of the three of you, she was definitely the most excited.
“Why are there boys too?” Olivia asked, hiding behind you as you both followed Leah.
Leah, catching up to Olivia’s question, smiled warmly. “It’s good for boys and girls to play together when they’re young,” she explained. “Once they’re older, they split the teams, but don’t worry, you’ll be on an all-girls team.”
You bit your lip, feeling a bit uneasy. Some of the boys and girls looked a lot bigger than Olivia, who was just barely on the edge of the minimum height for her age group.
This wasn’t new, it’s something you and Leah had talked about for months. Leah had been buzzing about Olivia joining the academy for ages. You, on the other hand, had always tried to push the idea off for as long as you could. But as soon as Olivia turned seven, Leah had come home with the Arsenal academy program in hand, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
And today was the junior tryout, and as Leah had reassured you the night before, all the kids would be accepted. After all, they were still so young, just children starting out.
“Okay, they’re about to start,” Leah said, hands on her hips, eyeing the pitch, which was noticeably smaller than a regular one. “You ready, Livy?”
But Olivia had backed away a few steps, her attention caught by a group of older girls across the field.
“Love, are you sure this is a good idea?” you muttered, lowering your voice as you shot Leah a slightly worried look.
Leah turned to you, her expression turning serious. “What do you mean?”
“It’s just… Livy’s still so little.”
“Darling, when I was her age, I was already playing with boys older than me,” Leah said, waving it off like it was no big deal. “This is nothing. Don’t worry.”
“But-”
“The doctor said more physical activity would help her, right? This’ll be good for her. Trust me.”
You opened your mouth to push back, but Leah had already wandered over to Olivia, gently nudging her along to join the other girls in her group.
You sighed, dropping down onto a nearby bench, keeping a bit of distance from the other parents. Leah could be so stubborn sometimes, and when it came to Olivia, she was far from objective. It didn’t help that, honestly, Livy wasn’t all that great at football.
Sure, Leah was the pro here, but you’d watched her play every week for over a decade, so you knew enough to tell when someone had that spark. And Olivia… well, let’s just say she struggled with her coordination.
Like most kids her age, she was a bit of a clumsy one, always tripping over her feet or bumping into things while running around the house. But she had it worse than most.
“Where’s your head at?” Leah’s laugh snapped you out of your thoughts as she sat down beside you, her face still full of excitement.
You gave her a sideways glance. “You really think Livy’s up for this?”
Leah’s smile faded, and she let out a sigh, clearly tired of the conversation. “Darling, Olivia’s not going to become a footballer overnight. It’s going to take work, that’s why we’re here. Trust me, no girl here is better than our daughter.”
How wrong Leah had been.
She cringed as the other girls darted past Olivia, barely noticing she was even there. Your daughter had hardly touched the ball once, and when she did, she ended up on the ground, tangled up in her own legs.
At this age, they didn’t really bother with positions in football, it was just a swarm of kids chasing the ball around, trying to kick it into the net. And there was Liv, hanging at the edge of the group, her attention everywhere but where it should’ve been.
Then came the shootout practice. Leah couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably each time it was Olivia’s turn to kick. It was either painfully slow, that the ball didn’t even reach the coach -who was standing in as the goalie- or a wild shot that flew wide of the goal altogether.
“What do you think now?” you muttered under your breath as you both made your way down the bleachers. Maybe this was the reality check Leah needed, seeing other girls Olivia’s age and finally accepting that football might not be Liv’s thing.
Leah shrugged, clinging to her optimism. “Just nerves, the first day and all” she said, then her smile softened the moment Olivia came running towards her.
“Hi, mommy!” Olivia panted, looking absolutely adorable. Her kit was a bit too big, even though it was meant to be her size, and her cheeks were flushed bright red, just like Leah’s after a long match in the sun.
“There’s my little star,” Leah grinned, scooping her up and brushing stray hairs off her forehead. “How was it, love?”
Olivia shrugged, looking a bit worn out. “Can we go home now?” she asked, glancing at you with those big, tired eyes.
“Yeah, let’s get you home,” you said with a smile.
Leah was just about to put her down when the coach approached with a man holding a camera.
“Excuse me, Leah, would you mind if we...?” the coach gestured to the camera.
Leah sighed lightly but waved her hand. “Sure, go ahead,” she said, setting Olivia down gently.
“We’d love to get a few shots of you and your daughter,” the camera guy chimed in. “It’s important for the academy, you know, showing that one of our top players, who came through the programme herself, trusts us to guide her daughter too.”
The coach smiled, but Leah’s stomach flipped after watching Olivia out there on the pitch.
“Of course,” she said, managing a nervous smile as she pulled Olivia close for the photo.
“You know, plenty of footballers' kids don’t end up playing football,” you said as you slipped into bed that night. “Look at Becks’ kids, for example.”
“You’re really not helping,” Leah grumbled, eyes fixed on her phone as she replied to a few messages from her teammates, who’d been buzzing after seeing Olivia’s pictures from the academy.
“Lee…”
“Livy likes football,” Leah said, finally putting her phone down and turning to you.
“Yeah, she does,” you agreed, scooting closer and resting your arm over her stomach, head on her chest. Leah’s hand instinctively found its way to your hair, gently playing with the strands. “I just don’t want you to think you’re forcing her into it or something.”
“I know that’s exactly what you’re thinking tho.”
“Leah, I just want you to realize that Olivia’s not you... at least not yet.”
Leah sighed, a little stubbornness still hanging in the air. “Fine, but she’ll keep training, on her own terms. No one’s born knowing how to kick a ball, you know?” she said, determined as ever.
You let out a quiet sigh, knowing this conversation was far from over, but you’d let it rest for now.
Almost two months had passed, and honestly, there wasn’t much progress.
You were the one driving Olivia to practice during the week, which she actually enjoyed. But on weekends, it was Leah’s turn, unless she was busy with a match. Those were the days Olivia wasn’t too keen on, since Leah would often stick around at the academy for an extra half-hour, kicking balls with her.
“Mummy!”
You were getting ready to take Olivia to the academy, even though there wasn’t any training today, Leah's team had a league cup match, and the academy kids were going along to watch.
“What’s up, love?” you asked, looking up and feeling a bit concerned when you saw she wasn’t in her jersey but in her everyday clothes.  “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” you said, setting your stuff aside and guiding her over to the couch.
“I’m not sure if I want to go see mommy today,” she mumbled, fiddling with her fingers.
“Why not?”
From a young age, Olivia had understood Leah’s celebrity status- her mother was practically famous in the sports world, always on tv or the radio, with people constantly asking for photos. Olivia had always had to share her mom’s attention with adults and teens wanting selfies or autographs when they were out. But now she wasn’t handling it well with her teammates getting so much of Leah’s attention too.
“Is something wrong, love?” you asked.
“I don’t want to see mommy if my teammates are there,” she said, tears starting to brim.
“I don’t quite follow, sweetheart…”
You tried to remember every time you’d been to Olivia’s practices. None of the other kids were ever mean or annoying, and Liv seemed to get along with most of her teammates.
“Mommy doesn’t like me that much...” she sobbed, and it broke your heart to see her so sad.
You scooped her up and settled her on your lap, rocking her gently. “How could mommy not like you?” you said, managing a sad smile as you wiped away her tears. “You’re the most important thing in the world to both mommy and me,” you reassured her, but Olivia just shook her head.
“Mom prefers Millie”
You looked at her, a bit confused. “Who’s Millie?”
“My teammate, number 10,” Olivia said, and you vaguely remembered one of the taller girls from her group. “She’s always playing with mom and me, but mom ends up playing with her more because I get tired first.”
Ah, now you recalled a bit of a late night chat with Leah, where she’d mentioned a little girl who played really well. At the time, you’d just thought it was Leah going on about football again.
“Sweetheart...” you whispered, pulling her into a tighter hug. It’s okay if you don’t want to go. We don’t have to.” You gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. “What would you like to do instead?”
“Can you play with me for a bit?” she asked, rubbing her eyes. She then hopped off your lap and grabbed one of the many balls lying around the house. “Can we?”
You nodded and got up from the couch, following Olivia to the backyard where Leah had set up a goal. You kicked off your shoes to keep them clean and watched Olivia’s face light up with excitement. It had been a while since she’d looked that happy, even though she played regularly with Leah after school. You had a feeling that what used to be a fun activity was now feeling more like a chore, and let’s be real, no one really wanted Leah Williamson as their coach all the time.
“Well, you know I’m not exactly like mom,” you said, giving the ball a nudge with your foot. “So don’t judge me if I’m not that great.”
“I know you’re not like mom,” Olivia giggled, heading for the goal. “Can you kick the ball from there?” she asked, getting into position.
“Do you want to play like that?” you asked, tilting your head, thinking she’d just want to run after you with the ball.
Olivia shook her head and giggled as your shot went off towards the garden.
“I did say I’m not like mom,” you said, going to get the ball.
When Leah got home, Olivia was already tucked up in bed, fast asleep and ready for school the next morning. You were still with your laptop, wrapping up some work.
“Love?” Leah called out, dropping her bag on the floor. “Hey, how’s everything?” She leaned in for a kiss, but when she noticed you didn’t return it, she pulled back. “What’s up? Is Livy still feeling sick?”
You’d told Leah a small lie about Liv having a stomach ache earlier, which was why you both had missed the game in the afternoon.
“Livy’s fine, it was nothing serious,” you said, shutting down your laptop and patting the spot next to you on the couch. “We need to talk about something…”
“About what?” Leah asked, looking confused.
“I think you’re being a bit too… hard on her,” you said gently.
“Are we still on about this? Look, if Olivia didn’t enjoy playing, I wouldn’t push her. But she likes it, you’ve said it yourself, she now has new friends and she’s improving, even if it’s just a bit.”
“It’s not just that, Leah. Liv’s a really sensitive kid. She’s not like you.”
“What do you mean?” Leah asked, her face getting serious.
“Liv’s more like me- she’s sentimental and emotional. She picks up on things.”
Leah pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a frustrated sigh. “Love, can you just be straightforward, please?”
“Olivia knows she’s not the best at football, and she can tell it... bothers you.”
“It doesn’t bother me,” Leah shot back quickly, but you just shook your head.
“Maybe not directly, but you’d like her to be more like the other girls at the academy.”
Leah went quiet and shuffled a bit on the couch.
“My point is… Liv needs you as her mom, not just her coach.”
“I think you’re overreacting,” Leah said, a hint of irritation in her voice.
“Leah,” you said more firmly this time. “Olivia’s always craved your attention, and not just-” you raised a hand when you saw her about to interrupt. “I’m not saying you don’t give it to her, but she needs more. Especially now that she’s worried if she’s not good enough, she might lose your attention to another girl.”
“It’s not-”
“I’m not done,” you said. “And I’ll say it again: she doesn’t want your attention as a footballer. She wants your attention as her mother. So, from now on, football is banned in this house.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“I don’t want you chatting about football at the dinner table or chasing Liv around to play, and no more academy talk unless it’s absolutely necessary. She’s already feeling insecure about it, and you’re not helping.”
“Darling, how can you ban a hobby I share with my daughter?” Leah asked, looking upset.
“There are plenty of other hobbies out there. Find something else.”
Leah dropped her head in defeat, now looking a bit embarrassed.
“Is that why you both didn’t go today?” she asked, her voice tinged with sadness.
“Yeah, I think she didn’t want her teammates reminding her of how good you are. She’s a bit scared of being compared to you.” you said softly. 
Leah shook her head, her expression softening.
“And I spoke with your mum... and I’m sorry, but she was a bit angry with you. Said you were being a bit of a jerk.”
Leah shot you an offended look. “She was no better than I am now.”
“But she used to get a more positive response from you,” you pointed out. “You two are just as stubborn as each other, so if you wanted to train before school, she’d have just gone along with it.” You rested your hand on her thigh as you saw her processing this.
“And Olivia isn’t like me,” she finally said quietly.
“No, she’s not,” you agreed.
“God, I’m such a terrible mother,” Leah said, burying her face in her hands.
“You’re not a terrible mother, Lee,” you said, gently taking her hands away from her face. “We’re still figuring this out. It’s not easy, and we’re going to mess up now and again, and probably a lot more.”
Leah, with a distant look in her eyes, let go of your hands and leaned back on the couch, resting her head on your lap.
“Now I’m feeling pretty sad,” Leah said. “I was all upbeat coming in because we had a win-” she cut herself off. “Can I still talk about our win today, or is that banned too?”
You shook your head, rolling your eyes a bit.
You heard Leah take a deep breath. With one hand, you gently stroked her hair, which was still damp from her shower before she came home.
“So what do we do now?” she asked.
“Now, we need to take a step back and chill out,” you said. “We need to give Liv some space. Maybe we should find some other stuff she might enjoy besides football. Remember how you used to spend all day watching movies and eating in bed? Maybe she’d like to do things like that with you again. I just want her to know she’s enough for you, no matter what. I know she is, and I’d never doubt that, but she’s a kid and needs to see it more clearly.”
Leah nodded, though her gaze seemed a bit lost as she reflected on everything that had happened over the past month. 
“I just wanted her to feel strong, you know? To have that fire in her. The world can be harsh, and I don’t want her to get hurt…she’s so tiny.”
“I know…” you murmured softly, gently tracing the contours of Leah’s face, something that always helped her relax.
“Football made me tough as a kid and taught me to stand up for myself, fend for myself- I wanted the same for our daughter…I didn’t think it was the wrong way.”
“There are other ways to show her that, love. We’re here for that, and we need to help her see her worth for who she is, not just as a mini version of you to earn your respect and attention.”
As you traced your finger down Leah’s nose, she let a few tears fall. “I feel awful… I never meant for her to think I’m disappointed in her or that I prefer other kids over my own daughter.”
“I know,” you said, pulling her close, the same way you had comforted Olivia hours earlier. “But you sometimes have a hard time showing certain things, so you need to make the effort to really show her. Tell her again how much you love her and how proud you are of her.”
“You’re a better mum than I am,” she said with a sad smile.
“Not at all,” you said, making a face. “I’ve messed up too, and you’ve been the one to help me fix things. We’re a team, Lee. We’re here to support each other, especially when it comes to Liv.”
“Let’s just say we’re both doing our best,” Leah said, laughing a bit as she wiped away her tears. “I’ll have a chat with her tomorrow after school, no talk about football, just us.”
You smiled, giving her a gentle push to get her off your lap. “Sounds good,” you said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
Leah sighed again, and you could tell she wouldn’t be at ease until she talked to Olivia.
“Thanks for helping me see things clearer,” she said, looking a bit awkward, knowing this could have been avoided if she’d listened to you earlier.
“That’s what I’m here for,” you said, standing up from the couch and offering her a hand to help her up.
“I love you,” she said, giving you a kiss.
Even after all these years, Leah Williamson’s kisses still had that same spark.
“I love you too,” you said, taking her hand as you started walking. “Let’s get to bed. I’m definitely not forgetting to celebrate that amazing assist you pulled off in today’s game,” you said with a cheeky wink, making Leah smile.
The next day, Olivia burst into your home office, chocolate smeared all over her face but grinning from ear to ear.
“Hi, mummy!” she exclaimed, running up to give you a kiss on the cheek, leaving a chocolate streak behind.
“Did you have ice cream before dinner?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Mom said it’s a special treat just for today,” Liv replied, as Leah walked in with some wipes in one hand and Liv’s school bag in the other.
“Just for today,” Leah repeated, making sure you weren’t in a meeting with your camera on before leaning in for a quick kiss. “You smell like chocolate,” she laughed, noticing the ice cream remnants on your cheek.
“And you taste like vanilla,” you said, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand.
“Me? Vanilla? I don’t think so,” Leah said with a cheeky grin, and you just rolled your eyes, trying not to smile.
“Idiot.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Leah said, turning around to grab Liv’s arm as she tried to sneak away. “Hey, no, no, no,” Leah said firmly.
“But, mommy-”
“Let me get the chocolate off you first,” Leah said, pulling out a wipe and gently wiping it from Olivia’s mouth.
It was absolutely charming to see Leah’s motherly side; it was something you never tired of seeing.
“There, now you’re all clean,” Leah said proudly. “My precious girl,” she murmured, stroking Liv’s cheeks as she wrinkled her nose. “What would I do without you, huh?”
“You wouldn’t be a mommy,” Liv said, shaking her head, and you chuckled.
Leah shook her head and let out a giggle too.
“Exactly, Liv,” she said, giving her a kiss on the forehead. “Now go and do your homework, okay? Then we can watch some movies.”
Liv sighed dramatically and dragged her feet and backpack out of the office.
You and Leah exchanged a look, admiring the dramatic flair your daughter had.
“She’s definitely your daughter,” you said with a grin, turning back to your work.
“Darling!” Leah came rushing over, weaving through the crowd of parents trying to find a spot in the stands. It was the last game of the season for the kids' teams, and the place was packed.
Leah had just got off a plane from a friendly match abroad, so she arrived only minutes before kick-off.
“I didn’t think you’d make it,” you said, moving aside to let her sit.
Leah shook her head and gave you a quick peck on the lips. “I promised Olivia I’d be here... though I was a bit surprised at how insistent she was that I come,” she said, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness that she tried to cover with a smile.
Olivia had asked you a few weeks ago to start taking her to her training sessions instead of Leah, and given the sensitive nature of the situation, Leah didn’t want to intrude.
“You do know your daughter doesn’t hate you, right?” you said quietly, resting your hand on Leah’s thigh. “You’re still her favorite mom, actually.”
Leah just hummed and avoided your gaze, as if the empty field had suddenly become the most interesting thing.
A few minutes later, the girls appeared on the field, and Leah’s face dropped when she didn’t spot Olivia.
“Where’s Livy?” she asked, looking a bit worried.
“She’s over there,” you pointed to the little girl standing second, wearing a black cap and a goalie’s kit. Leah clearly hadn’t recognised her because she had no clue her daughter had changed positions.
“W-what?” Leah asked, surprised, but her face brightened when she saw Olivia giving her a small wave.
“It was a surprise,” you said, trying to hide your grin.
“But Liv’s never played as a goalie,” Leah said, a bit confused.
“Well, it turns out she’s actually quite good. She saves all my shots that go all over the place,” you said, remembering how Olivia would bounce around, not caring about scraping her knees whenever you threw the ball in the wrong direction.
Leah was lost for words. She didn’t want to seem biased because it was her daughter in goal, and she was trying to overlook the fact that the girls trying to score on Olivia weren’t the best, but she loved Olivia’s determination to catch every ball, even if it meant taking a few hits in the face.
“We are calling Mary as soon as we’re out of here,” Leah said, her eyes still glued to the game.
“Alright, let’s put that on hold for now,” you said, trying to soften the intensity in your wife’s gaze. “Let’s remember, this is supposed to be pressure-free.”
“Yeah, alright, love,” Leah said, sounding distracted. You could tell she wasn’t really listening.
“What was that?!” Leah exclaimed, opening her arms as Olivia came running towards you both with a small trophy shaped like a glove and a medal hanging around her neck.
“Did you like it, mommy?” Olivia asked with excitement.
“What, of course I did! Even Alessia couldn’t score on you if she tried!” Leah said, showering Olivia’s cheeks with kisses in exaggerated enthusiasm.
Normally, you wouldn’t join in with Leah’s exaggerated praise, but right now Olivia needed a confidence boost.
“I’d say you’re even better than Mary,” you whispered against her cheek. “We’re so proud of you.”
“My daughter’s a superstar,” Leah said, pulling out her phone. “Alright, now smile for the camera. We need to get these photos for grandma before she scolds me again, besides she’s still mad at me”
Leah and Olivia had gone to the car while you had to run back because Olivia had forgotten her cap in the locker room. By the time you got to the parking lot, it was almost empty, with just your car and Leah’s left. You saw them standing by Leah’s car.
“…You don’t have to come back next season,” you overheard Leah saying to Olivia.
“I like coming here now, mom.”
“Are you sure? We can look for another sport... or any other activity you’re into. It doesn’t have to be football,” Leah said softly.
“But I like it.”
“Aren’t you just saying that because I like football too?”
“Yes, but I like it as well, mom.”
“Right. But remember, if you decide you don’t like this anymore, I won’t push you. I don’t want you doing things just to please me, or anyone else. Do you understand, love?”
The tenderness Leah showed in her conversation with Olivia touched your heart. You knew Leah could be a bit much at times, but you were certain she’d always put your daughter’s happiness first.
647 notes · View notes
satorusugurugurl · 1 month ago
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The Ghost in My Apartment
Summary: When you move into your new apartment, it comes with all the bells and whistles! Garden tub, balcony, and a sexy ghost roommate!
Pairing: Kamo Choso x AFAB!Reader
Warning: language, mentions of fire, death, ghosts, ghost sex (it’s kinktober play along), smut, unprotected sex
Word Count: 4.2K
A/N Kinktober day one: Ghosts! This was so much fun! Ugggh, I love him; let me bite his cheeks!! I hope you all are ready for a month of fun!!
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For as long as you can remember, you have seen things other people weren’t able to see. Those things were spirits of the dead, ghosts. You began seeing these spirits at the right age of 10 years old. Your grandma often told you that it was a blessing, a gift, and one that you often ridiculed and hated because seeing ghosts wasn’t like it was in the movies or television shows.
Some of them were terrifying, mangled, bruised, beaten, and bloody. Seeing those kinds of things when you were still growing up could leave scars. Most of the time, you did your absolute best to ignore the spirits that you saw—until you were eighteen. Around this time, the ghost of an elderly man approached you. He was kind and gentle, and all he wanted was help. So, against your better judgment and your reservations, you decided to help him.
He only wanted to tell his wife where the key to their safety deposit box was. When you went to this woman’s home, she thought you were crazy. But her whole demeanor changed when you begged her to check his rain jacket. She had gone from cold and uncaring to a sobbing mess. She thanked you profusely, offering you money, which you declined. No amount of money in the world would satisfy her more than seeing a smile on her face.
From that day on, you made it a point to try to help any other spirits you encountered. Some were far beyond to help, becoming nothing more than a poltergeist. Most of the time, you were lucky enough to help those in desperate need find their way to light.
It was sort of your side hustle. Aside from working at a local bookstore, you did everything in your power to help those you could come across or help families who would reach out to you after hearing about what you had done for others in the past. But you did your best to keep that part of your life separate from your mundane daily routine until you moved into your new apartment.
“Yes, the last family that lived here suffered a great loss. The older brother of the family was gravely injured in a fire. That’s probably why the rent has dropped so much. You know how people are with the superstitions of the dead.”
Your lip twitched as you followed the elderly woman up the stairs to your brand new apartment, which you just found out had experienced a recent death, and that meant one of two things may happen. Either the spirit of the young man who had died would still be lingering in your apartment, burnt to a crisp, or he had moved on peacefully. You wouldn’t be able to know until you took a chance to look around.
It might take a few days, but you would eventually get your answer. Sometimes, spirits were still very much like humans. They kept their distance, but eventually, they would sometimes come forth and tell you what they wanted or needed help. You had gotten over your fear of the different appearances over the last few years, but the thought of seeing a person who had been severely burned in a fire was something you weren’t looking forward to.
“But aside from that, the view is beautiful, and your neighbors are nice. I do believe you will enjoy your time here.”
“I have a good feeling about this place. I’m looking forward to living here.”
The landlord gave you the key to your new apartment and a set of rules, like when your rent was due or what day the trash was picked up. These were the typical things you needed to know in case there were emergencies or if the power went out and you needed to call maintenance. Even after she had left, giving you all of the information you needed, you found yourself hesitating to open the door.
“Please don't be lurking around. At least let me get settled in, and then I’ll let you know I’m around if you need help.” You silently prayed to the unknown spirit if one was behind your door. With a twist of the key, you unlocked the door before heading into the apartment, finding it empty except for your furniture delivered and the boxes that had been brought in. Much to your relief, no ghost was roaming around exploring the living room.
Your ghostly roommate didn’t appear at all the whole time you unpacked and got settled in, which was comforting in a way. You had hoped that they had moved on, weren’t stuck to this earthly plane, and could spend eternity in paradise or be reincarnated. No one deserves to be stuck in the same place for all time.
You were sitting on the couch to watch a movie when you realized your hope for the spirit moving on had been a dream. While you stared at the screen, you felt the couch dip under the added weight of someone joining you. Over the years of seeing these spirits, you had realized that it was best to take your time and not make a big deal of their presence. Not daring to make sudden moves, you looked at the see-through silhouette next to you.
You would have expected it to be completely charred, seeing that there had been a fire in your apartment before. The spirit wasn’t burnt or injured in any invisible way you could see. Instead, he looked completely healthy, aside from a scar running down the side of his neck and arms. You were confident that if you were to remove his clothing, he would have burns elsewhere, but that didn’t take away from his at all.
The ghost was handsome, with dark hair tied up into two buns on top of his head, and a black tattoo had been etched into the skin across the bridge of his nose. Dark eyes were focused on the television. You could hear a clicking sound, most likely due to a tongue piercing, hitting his teeth. You had no clue who he was or his name; the only thing you knew was that this man was so good-looking. It was a shame that he had been taken from the world too soon.
“Fuuck,” you whispered, biting down on your bottom lip as you took another minute to look him over shamelessly. At this exact minute, he turned his head to look at you.
From the way that his eyes went wide, he wasn’t expecting you to be able to see him. But sure shit, you were eyeing him up and down like he was a tall glass of water on a hot summer day. The ghost scoffed, leaning back on the couch and shaking his head.
“If you're going to stare at me like that, at least you could tell me your name.”
“I could say the same thing for you, seeing that you’re in my apartment.”
The ghost jumped, eyes wide as he snapped his head toward you. “You can see me?” You laughed, nodding your head. The sudden realization had your newfound ghost roommate leaning back against the sofa, processing what you had just said. “Like you can really see me?” When you nodded a second time, the spirit laughed, running a hand over his face.
“What? Are you disappointed?”
“I’m a bit relieved. Death is pretty lonely.”
You frowned, finding yourself not interested in whatever was on the television. “I’m sorry, but I’m glad I at least could ease some of the loneliness.” You stuck your hand out towards him, Telling him your name, only to have him stare at your hand with amusement. “What?” The ghost shook his head, letting out a quiet huff.
“I think it’s just cute that you think I’ll be able to shake your hand.”
“Oh, right. I'm sorry. I forgot some spirits are dead even when they aren’t all that dead-looking.”
“No, you're okay. It really was cute. I’m Kamo Choso. Nice to meet you.” To play along with you, he reached his hand out, knowing it would go through you like his new form was with every solid object nowadays.
Much to his surprise, he felt you when his hand grazed over yours. Your skin was warm to the touch, and it felt like he was touching you. His hand didn’t pass through yours. It just gripped your hand, which surprised both of you. You stared at your joined hands in momentary shock before trailing your gaze up to Choso, who was just as shocked.
His eyes seemed to light up as his grip on your hand tightened. You couldn’t help but smile, eyes lighting up as you focused on Choso’s eyes, the way they trailed up your arm before meeting your gaze. There was a spark you had never felt with any spirits, let alone humans. It was, god, something you’d only read about in books.
“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Choso.”
That was the beginning of your extraordinary and slightly complicated friendship. You both hung out, talking like roommates, watching television, and getting to know each other. And the more you got to know Choso, who loved his younger brothers, went to art school and loved to cook, the more your heart ached. Strangely, you mourned the man you would never get to meet. That was a strange pain that settled in your gut.
Those thoughts often find their way into your mind nowadays. You sighed, lying on your bed, watching Choso float above you. He was talking about how Yuuji, his younger brother, made a hotpot around this time of year. He went on and on about how it would be perfect on an October day like today. But you were more interested in how his arms looked in the tanktop he had on. How he appeared, and you began wondering what he smelt like, what he would taste like.
Why were all the good ones either taken, not into girls, or, in your case, dead?
Choso was just your type, and it hurt to know you would never get a chance to be with him. Choso looked down at you when you didn’t respond to his question about whether you liked chicken meatballs. When he looked into your eyes, he frowned, finding them flooded with tears.
“Well damn, I just asked if you liked chicken meatballs.” He said with a snicker, knowing damn well that was not the reason behind your tears.
“I-I’m just sad.” You whispered, wiping at your eyes.
“About what?” Choso slowly floated down, lying on the bed right next to you.
He watched as you fiddled around with your pajamas, sighing softly before you rolled onto your side, gazing into his eyes. “I’m sad about you.” Choso reached out, cupping your cheek in one hand. The chills are almost calming in a strange way. “It’s not fair.” Choso’s soul ached at the sorrow that flooded your voice.
“Honey—”
“It’s not fair that you died too soon! It’s not fair at all.” You sniffled, finally losing yourself to the swell of emotions swarming in your chest. “It’s not fair, Cho.” Those cool arms wrapped around you, pulling you close to his chest.
“I know—but I don’t regret it.” His words struck you like icy rain that was colder than his touch. You pulled back, peeking at him as he brushed the hair back out of your face. “I died, but I managed to save my brothers. If I were given the chance to save them from a burning building, I would do it again in a heartbeat.”
You had grown to know he loved his brothers endlessly. That was a God-given truth. Hell, that was one of the reasons you fell so hard for him, a ghost, the shade of a person who was no longer alive. For him not to regret his choice spoke volumes of his character—a character you would give anything to love for the rest of your days and grow old with.
“Do you have any regrets, Cho?” You asked as the tears finally stopped. “Anything you wished you got to do or things you would have done differently.”
“Yeah, there’s one thing.” He said with no hesitation.
The straightforward tone of his words had you sitting up, interested in what he had to say. “What’s that?” Choso followed your every move, sitting up, gently cupping both sides of your face as he stroked your cheeks with his thumbs.
“Not living long enough to meet you.”
His lips found yours in a passionate kiss that took your breath away. You gasped into his mouth, gently reaching out and gripping his upper arms as you kissed him back eagerly. Once again, sparks, no, that failed in comparison to the feelings blossoming inside of you. Fireworks were a better way to describe the passion coursing through your body as you melted against his cold, see-through form.
Choso shifted, laying on top of you, the coldness a stark contrast to the heat radiating through you. The sensation, while shocking at first, was one you found yourself craving. So you gave in to those desires, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him tighter against you as you whimpered and cried into his mouth as he kissed you as if he would never get the chance to do so again.
You broke the kiss first, panting heavily as Choso peppered kisses down your neck, moaning and grunting against your skin as he slowly slid his hand up your shirt, trailing over your tummy before coming in contact with your breasts. You inhaled sharply as the chill hardened your nipples before his lips found yours again. Kissing you with as much passion as he could muster, making the most of his time with you, making up for the lifetime he would miss with you.
“C-Choso!” You cried out as he gently twisted and teased your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, taking in the way your body twitched and melted against him. “Fuck!”
“I regret not living long enough to do all this to you with my body.” He snugged, tugging your shirt off with your help. “I regret not getting to grow old with you, to be with you, take you on dates.” He made quick work of his shorts before you both worked at his pants. “I feel a connection with you, and I wish we would have met sooner.”
As you tugged his pants and boxers down, you couldn’t have agreed more with him. The time you spent with Choso this far has been great. You had a genuine connection, but it is only so far. He couldn’t take you out on dates or leave the apartment. So, in a way, you selfishly wanted more. You longed for it, for him.
And goddamn it all! You were going to have him in every single way you could. Hands moved, working with clothes while caressing and roaming over bodies. In all of your years, all of your previous relationships, you have never had a connection like this.
Choso shifted, looking down as he positioned himself between his legs. “You want this?” He asked in such a gentle, sweet tone.
“Yes.” You whispered, grabbing a handful of his hair and bringing him down to your mouth, where you kissed him. “I want you.”
Not hesitating in the slightest, Choso moved, pushing that of his cock into your wet and willing pussy. You gasped, eyes going slightly wide at the cool sensation of him sliding inside of you. It was like temperature play but better. Choso growled in the back of his throat, a sound that chills up your spine. You want to hear more of the sounds he would make. You wanted all of him at once.
Not wanting to wait around or hesitate, you began to rock your hips up, pushing him further inside of you. The ghost above you shivered, falling slightly on top of you, but he braced himself on his arms to not crush you. There is a certain satisfaction in the way that you rolled your hips against him and how he reacted to your slightest touch.
“Holy fuck—Honey, that feels so good.” He whispered as he fisted the sheets, his cock throbbing inside of you. “P-please don’t stop.” he banged as you both began rocking and rolling against each other in the most sinful of ways.
You shuddered, gripping his arms as you rocked against him faster. Arching off the bed, the head of his cock hit all of the right spots deep inside of you, drawing out the pleasure, drawing out sounds from your that you had never heard before. It was perfect; Choso knew every part of your body, like where to kiss and how to move. There was a spark, a connection, and it made your heart ache because you knew you were meant to be together.
That realization, the truth, hurt so bad it killed you. You wanted to cry to curse the world for taking him from you before you two even met. The pain almost overrode the pleasure, but it was Choso’s kisses that made you release the grip of sorrow you were slowly clutching onto.
“I love you.” His voice was as smooth as honey. “I love you so damn much.”
You kissed him, slowly losing control of your rocking and gripping, allowing Choso to take the lead. He gripped the sheets, holding onto them as he slammed into you, rocking the bed, causing the sweetest sounds of pleasure to leave your mouth. Those sounds were like music to his ears as he shuddered, losing his self-control.
“C-Cho! L-love you!” you cried out, gripping his arms tighter. “L-love everything about you!”
Lips connected again as the room seemed to spin, and the bed creaked louder with each powerful thrust. Your moans grew louder, and the sound of skin slapping against your skin grew louder as your head writhed against the pillow. Choso cupped your breasts, squeezing them as the coil in your abdomen tightened, growing tighter and tighter, making your toes curl as you gasped out loud. Choso knew you were close.
You didn’t have a chance to warn him because he fucked into you, stealing the words from you. The orgasm was so intense you screamed, gripping onto him, crying out his name as you soaked his form and the sheets underneath you. Watching you come undone, crying out his name, had a warmth growing in his chest, one he hadn’t felt in so damn long.
Choso felt himself release, hips stilling as the overwhelming pleasure had him throwing his head back. God, he wished he was alive; he wanted to be inside of you, filling you up, making love with you. But he was sure these were fragments, memories of the past allowing him to remember what it felt like, but this felt so much better. This was real and true, but also painful because he could never be with you however he wanted.
“Cho~” your breathy whisper drew him back to the present, “mhmm~”
“You’re so perfect.” He whispered, pulling the sheets over your bare body. “I would have loved you in so many ways.”
You hummed, cuddling into his body, humming as the chill cooled your body down. “You already do, and I love you too.” Choso frowned, stroking your air as you slowly fell asleep in his arms.
That familiar warmth settled in his chest, and he knew it was his time to go. There was a voice calling him, a light drawing him in. He didn’t want to leave you, but the warmth in his chest grew hotter and hotter, and the once solid form you could touch was nothing more than air. Choso frowned, watching your arm slip through his body, landing on the mattress below you.
Choso sighed slowly, sliding out of the bed. He approached the balcony where the bright light was waiting for him, calling his name. But before he stepped outside into it, he took one final look over his shoulder, smiling sadly at your sleeping form.
“I’ll see you in the next life. I love you.” Choso stepped into the light with a gulp, leaving the apartment behind.
The following morning, you woke up, not finding Choso anywhere. You searched and called out his name for close to an hour before coming to the sudden and cold reality that Choso was gone. Part of you was happy that he could move on and find his peace, but the selfish part of you wished he would have stayed. But what you wanted didn’t matter; he was gone, hopefully at rest now, leaving you to mourn a man and relationship that never was.
That pain sat in your stomach like a rock, weighing you down for weeks. You tried to find joy in the little things in life. Reading your favorite books, watching your comfort movies, and making your favorite foods. But nothing seemed to fill the void your ghost roommate left behind.
This went on for a few months, and you finally started feeling like yourself again. The pain was still there, of course, but it no longer weighed you down like a ton of bricks. You felt more relaxed leaving the apartment, finally healing. You were less sad about Choso finding peace and more happy that he was finally at rest.
His warm, dark eyes were on your mind as you pulled out some cookies from your oven when there was a knock on the door to your apartment. You hummed, taking off your oven mitts and opening the door to find a young man with tufts of pink hair staring down at you. He smiled, bright eyes twinkling as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his yellow hoodie.
“Hi! Sorry to bother you. My name is Itadori Yuuji, and I used to live here.” He swayed back and forth, pursing his lips together in thought. “I uhm—well, my brother told me about a fire safety box he hid in one of the vents, so we came to collect it if that’s okay.”
“Oh,” this was Yuuji, Choso’s younger brother. Finally, getting to see the young man in person felt surreal. “Uhm—”
“If it’s not a good time, I can come back later.”
“No, no, sorry, uhm, I just—it’s nothing. Please come inside.”
Yuuji grinned, nodding his head, turning towards the stairs. “Hey, bro! She said it was okay!” You stepped further into your apartment, hugging yourself as Yuuji took his shoes off. “My brother is right behind; he just takes longer to climb the stairs.” The clanking of a can hit the floor as a shadow stretched out across the floor.
“I just got out of the hospital. I think that’s a valid excuse.” That voice, you knew that voice. “I’m sorry for the intru—” That voice you loved, the one you thought you would never hear again, trailed off. “Have we met?”
Kamo Choso, the ghost you had fallen in love with, stood in front of you, very much alive and well, gripping a cane. He had burn scars just like his ghostly form, but he was here, solid, and no longer saw thought. Seeing him, hearing him, and smelling the musky scent of spices and amber had your heart crawling up your throat as you stepped forward. Your eyes frantically searched his face, making sure he truly was there, alive and standing in front of you.
“Not formally.” You whispered, grinning as tears blurred your vision as a certain softness crept into his features. You held your hand out, telling him your name with a smile.
Much like the first time you met, Choso stared at your hand with tears in his eyes before he took it. This time, instead of being like ice, it was as warm as could be. That sensation had him smiling as he shut his eyes as if this wasn’t the first time you had met but a reunion.
“I’m Kamo Choso, it’s nice to meet you.”
“I couldn't agree more.” you motioned towards the kitchen. “Well, Choso, could I offer you some cookies?”
“I like the sound of that. But in exchange, would you let me take you to dinner sometime.” His grip on your hand tightened. “I can’t get over this feeling that I know you from somewhere.”
“Maybe from a dream.”
Choso beamed down at you finally releasing his grip on your hand as he followed you into the kitchen. “Well, I hope that dream becomes a reality.” You bit down on your bottom lip with a knowing smile. That dream was going to become a reality because this was a love that transcended both life and death.
Forever Tag List:
@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree @msniks @lana18918
Kinktober Tag List:
@candy-s72
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zathechaosgod · 2 months ago
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Minecraft Live 2024 Highlights
I've been lied to, they started early!
It's ("just") youtubers/streamers talking abt what minecraft means to them. 15th anniversary celebration moments
dantdm is here!! (on video)
i saw someone say "please bring back copper".... who took copper from you,,
ENDERCUP MENTION!!!!!!!
throwback to when everyone wanted the final sequence of endercup to be a teaser of a new end update (but maybe this time????? 👀👀👀)
One final compilation of all the big youtubers right now (including a Lot of familiar faces from hermitcraft, life series, rats, even rtgame!)
Inside footage of the mincraft stockholm office! (Incredible decoration hoooly)
not the movie mention 💀
the original minecraft trailer!!!! that's the one that got me to play....
jeb! recapping this year
change of pace in releasing features???
more frequent regular updates instead of the big yearly one!! like the armadillos
two drops that will release in the next few months!
First drop new unique biome
Second drop is a combination of two things: hardcore mode in bedrock, and bundles!!
VILLAGER NEWS INTERRUPTION
SHOUTOUT TO INCLUDING STEVE IN THE LISTING OF MONSTERS BY THE VILLAGERS
rip villager number 31
rip... all the villagers?
new monster<333333333
few things i can say about the way they introduced the minecraft movie other than the fact it came directly after the banger villager news horror story and that i grimaced at their word choice. it might have included "authentic".
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at least chat is no longer fighting! they're very united in their hatred <3
this entire segment has me starting tiredly into the camera like i'm on the office.
"one meter by one meter was too big" go order a fucking creeper. looking at the uncanny valley and feeling at home IS THE POINT
minecraft in real life experience!!!! (a la that one van gogh exhibit if you know that)
New biome announcement!!
OOOO IT'S LIKE A DEAD FOREST BETWEEN DARK OAK AND SPRUCE CALLED THE PALE GARDEN
2x2 grey trees, hanging moss, silence, Meant to be creepy at night
SOMETHING LURKING IN THE SHADOWS
created for low visibility, new grey moss (hanging like vines and block and carpet!)
CREAKING A TREE-LIKE CREATURE, HARD TO SEE EXCEPT THE YELLOW EYES IT HAS/ IT DOESNT TAKE DAMAGE BC IT'S CONNECTED TO A BLOCK IN THE CANOPY
creaking is a hivemind puppet of the creaking heart block!!! you need to destroy that to kill the creaking
THE CREAKING ONLY MOVES WHEN YOU LOOK AWAY. DON'T. BLINK.
the creaking heart drops as a block and can be placed by players <3
i love this guy smsmsmsmsm
pale oak wood set!!!!! WHITE WOOD
moss inspired by weeping willow trees and spanish moss!!
new wood type is for bdubs personally. i think.
return to villager news! news reporter villager 9 survived along with the nitwit, who is using this newfound power to get his justice
... so no end update [breaks skateboard]
but aftershow pale garden playing!
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i love him so much,,,,,
peak commentary: "....whoops"
it feels mean to say but my main takeaway from them showing off the little village they made using different material in combination with the pale oak is "oh none of these people are very good at building" very 2015 vibes. they shouldve just given scar and bdubs a texture pack
creaking hard needs to be aligned between two pale oak logs for it to activate!! making for easy on/off switches
the block stays on and red as long as a creaking is spawned in!
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this means that 1) red heart flooring will have Basements of creaking mistreatment and 2) if you want cool particle beams, pray your server doesn't have peta
competition of farming creaking hearts that keeps spawning more creakings? banger design honestly. in gridrunners when
group of creaking has officially been deemed a crunch <3
ignoring a certain movie, absolute banger of a minecraft live. Very excited to see the next releases come to the game!
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