#parents please quit blaming your kids like this
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tribalauthor · 1 day ago
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THE WISEWOMAN (roman reigns ff) <chapter 14>
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word count: 2.1K
Roman's POV:
Me and Sophia are in my home now. The place where I was born and grew up - Pensacola. We are in our big yard, eating a classic Samoan barbecue with the company of my family.
My mother specifically kept asking her a lot of questions about her life and to be completely honest I didn't quite listen cause I was too busy admiring my girlfriend's beautiful body that was hugged by the baby blue floral summer dress she is wearing and most specifically her breasts that are cupped by it.
Suddenly I felt a strong hit on my shoulder that completely startled me out of the unholy thoughts that I was having about my girlfriend.
"I raised you better than this." dad said quietly yet with scolding tone.
My father played such an important role for my mindset that is today. Frankly, if it wasn't for him, I'd probably never become a wrestler. He saw my potential before anyone else...even before myself.
He must have noticed how I look at Sophia and as a man, I expect him to understand me here but as I see, he wants me to behave. I couldn't help but feel bad.
"Don't blame me, dad." I whispered at him.
"I don't. The girl is amazing but please, keep your composure." he replied while he slightly widened his eyes.
I resemble him in a lot of ways. People tell me I look like him and act like him a lot, so I can bet my ass when he was young and met mom, he was completely crazy over her. But of course, he will never admit it to me.
"You are such a well-spoken woman, Sophia." I heard mom remarking. Judging by her expression and body language, she seems to like Soph and that brings me so much relief and comfort.
She didn't quite like my ex-wife ever since the moment I brought her here. Moms are always right. They really know when somebody isn't right for you. My dad has also been telling me that I shouldn't stick to a woman I met in the darkest period of my life.
I met Michelle when I thought I was never returning to WWE again. I had a serious injury that could have ended my life and even if it didn't, it was questionable if I could return to sports one day. I was so lost and depressed. She was my escapism to all of that.
I really viewed her as a breath of fresh air and all that and she was. That's why I was convinced she was the love of my life and married her and tnen I found out she doesn't want kids.
I mean it's her choice, of course, I am not judging but when you marry someone, you have to have similar goals for the future, right?
Not to mention that the second I returned to WWE and started to become the greatest in the business, I felt her pulling away.
She just wasn't the same person I met when I was at my lowest. And that's why people say it's not important how people treat you at your lowest but at your highest.
Michelle is the pure examle for that. The more I was rising at work, the more she was drifting away from me. What she told me was that she just didn't feel like a priority to me which is completely wrong.
I was always trying to spend time with her as much as I could but I guess, there is nothing I could do if she felt that way. I couldn't convince her and I wasn't intending to.
That's why our divorce process was very smooth and unproblematic. No quarrels, no scandals, no fights.
So yeah, people sometimes can underestimate the vibe check on the parents and the clichè sayings.
Right now before me, I see my mom and sisters watching my girlfriend talk smartly, my lil' nephews drooling over her and my nieces admiring her.
I feel completed.
"And how does Paul feel about this?" my eldest sister asked.
"He just threatened my career." I replied with my arms crossed and the table was filled with laughter.
"It's so amazing. The fact that your uncle has been with our family for such a long time. I remember him ever since he was so, so young and now his niece being with my son. A generational bond." my dad remarked and I couldn't help but giggle.
"We may be talking about very deep generational tie here. I agree." mom replied and I took a sip of my water cup. "If you two have kids." I suddenly choked on my drink and started coughing like crazy and Sophia started hitting my back immediately.
"Sophia, you want kids, right?" mom asked her.
"Of course. I'd love to have one day." my girlfriend replied.
"Great. His ex-wife didn't want." she spoke with bitter tone.
"Mom." I said with scolding tone.
"Are we going to have little cousins?" one of my little nieces asked excitingly and I gave mom the "you fix this" look.
Sophia's POV:
"All these trophies are yours?" I asked Joe as I was looking at the shelf full of trophies in his room.
We just had a pretty amazing day with his family and relatives. I got to know his parents and sisters. I spent time with his nephews and nieces as well all of which are raised so good.
I could see the wrestling genes are running in the whole family. The boys were fighting like crazy in the yard, I got scared for a second but Roman and Sika assured me it's a full circle moment. They were even advising them how to do the moves better and so on.
A bit scary yet wholesome.
I was left with the impression they liked me though but even if it was a pretend, it was a good one.
"Yup. I won my first one at seven. Even before you were born." he replied and I smiled continuously admiring the different gold figures in front of me. "I told you I have always been a winner."
"Impressive." I muttered. His room really looked like the typical room of a jock. Judging by what I've seen in the movies. High school me would never hang out in a place like this and I couldn't help but let out a mute giggle at that fact.
"I'm sorry if mom made you feel awkward, she just-" I interrupted him.
"No worries. She just wants grandkids like every mother." I replied logically. My mom has never expressed if she wants grandkids but even if she does, I don't know when she would be able to see them from her work schedule. What I know is that she would make sure the best midwife is around me.
"But it's too soon to be talking about this. Hope she didn't scare you." my boyfriend looked seriously concerned. I mean in a way I understand him since some of my peers as a whole can get triggered by this topic.
Not me though. Especially when my best friends are starting to get pregnant and the ones from high school are probably even expecting second kids.
"Nope. Not at all." I shrugged and finally decided to sit next to him on his bed. "This is not a taboo topic."
"I know but I had to make sure you are okay." he replied with cutely nodding his head.
"You're so cute." I exclaimed as I softly grabbed his face and kissed his lips. "I'm gonna eat you."
Joe looked excitingly scared with his boba brown eyes popping out. That expression however suddenly changed into a smug one.
"You know what I'm gonna eat? Those boobs." he said and buried his face in my cleavage making me squeal.
"Not here." I whisper-yelled.
"Why not?" he pouted and grabbed my wrists.
"I am not doing any freaky stuff in your old household where anybody can hear us." I declared. "I'm a woman of class."
"You just don't wanna make your biggest nightmare a reality." Joe said with that tone of a therapist who is psycho analysing you.
"What? Don't be ridiculous." I rolled my eyes.
"It's true." he argued and as I was about to argue back, the door opened abruptly and it was the younger part of Joe's nephews and nieces, running to our bed.
"Uncle." they all yelled and climbed on the bed.
"We came here to say good night to you and aunt Soph." one of the curly haired angels named Alani spoke. They are all so sweet and the way they call me aunt is just so wholesome, it fills my heart.
I love kids.
Joe lifted himself up a bit and all of them went to hug him. I think I'm gonna pass out any second.
"Good night, my little angels." he replied to them as he stroked everyone's dark curly hairs.
"Good night, aunt Soph." they yelled and now they came to me for a hug.
I didn't hesitate to hug them back and I felt one of them burying his head close to my chest.
"Nuh-uh, little Julian." I heard Roman saying slightly dragging the boy's head away from my chest. "Go get your own."
"Leave the poor boy alone, Joseph, oh my god." I dragged the little kid back for a hug and my boyfriend squinted his eyes at me.
"You are very pretty, aunt Sophie." Julian now faced me. He is such a cute boy - around 5 years old with light brown skin and big brown boba eyes, curly hair.
"You are prettier." I replied and started tickling him a bit and the toddler started laughing out loud.
"You look like Barbie." Sarah exclaimed and I smiled at her, squeezing her little hand slightly.
"No, she looks like Pamela Anderson." Liam, the eldest one here which was around 9 years old opposed. Me and Roman exchanged confused looks.
"How'd you know Pamela Anderson?" his uncle asked him.
"I found some old magazines in my dad's bedroom shelf." the boy replied and I started shaking my head.
"You really do look like her, though." my boyfriend agreed and I gave him the dead look cause there is another thing we should be concerned about.
"There you guys are." one of Joe's sisters, Summer, got in the room. "It's late already. Leave uncle and aunt to sleep, okay? They must be tired from the flight and the match yesterday."
She collected them like little stones and the kids actually listened to her. What I noticed from earlier when we were at the table, they may seem reckless and full of energy like every kid but when their parents or relatives tell them something, they listen immediately.
"They are so cute." I said after they left.
"Indeed but lil Julian can be a trouble." Joe remarked and I rolled my eyes.
"I guess he takes after his uncle." I snapped at him and he laughed.
"Some of them has to have my traits." he defended himself and then leaned to kiss me.
"I wonder what the fans' reactions are from last night." I said as we got away.
"Let's check." Joe replied excitingly and got in a sitting position, as he reached for his phone on the nightstand. "I will see on Twitter, you go to Instagram." he suggested and I agreed.
We started going through our phones. I am kinda off-guard since Joe claimed before that he isn't a technology guy and so on, he barely uses his phone but yeah, of course right now he is gonna be interested what the fans are going to think about us.
We opened the apps excitingly and while I was in the search bar about to type what I'm looking for, the stuff was all over my feed.
The capture of us kissing.
Headlines all over the place and questions rising for our future. Of course, there are comments about our age difference.
"I don't know if I wanna be Sophia or Roman in this situation. " Joe read out loud and started laughing. I followed him cause this is a good one.
"I knew it from the start that they were meant to be" I read a comment from Instagram.
"I was the first who knew that." he replied and my lips formed a tiny smile of sweetness.
"Of course the Tribal Chief would get the good stuff." Joe continued reading and started laughing at this. "Period."
"I wanna be in Sophia's shoes so bad." I read out loud and chuckled.
We actually read mostly very positive things and I am very surprised from this fact. People seem invested in this already and me and Joe said we shall not disappoint them.
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thebean-17 · 2 years ago
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Just a little piece of advice and possibly a vent but...
Please for the love of the gods, do not yell at your children, whether they're young or adults, it doesn't fucking matter. Do not yell at your children and then later try to justify it because "they're not listening."
The reason that they may not be listening to you is because they're listening to someone yelling their fucking lungs out rather than actually getting straight to the point at hand.
Thanks.
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bitchface24-7 · 20 days ago
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I love the name combos- We got Honey and Sugar PLUS Sugar and Spice! My FBI agent has to know about my growing hunky Latino men addiction. My tiktok is feeding me Jayce content with “Beso Al Aire” and it's making my latina heart do fucking backflips.
Do you think we could get a DILF!Jayce with a reader who takes care of his kid and homelife while he's working. They know he’s a busy man so they guarantee him that his kid tucked in sound asleep, the house is clean, and a warm plate of food is waiting for him.
I so desperately need to talk to someone to feed my growing Jayce obsession.
DADDY’S HOME - JAYCE X READER
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synopsis: you're the babysitter to a incredibly cute little girl, Isabella. Her dad unfortunately has a very busy job and is constantly out of the house (against his will, of course) so you take care of her for him. You take care of him too. Who wouldn’t want to care for Jayce Talis?
warnings: age gap (early 40’s Jayce, mid-20s reader), oc daughter, teasing, flirting, risky sex (like hello there's a kid in the house), quiet sex
genre: m/f or m/m
p.s. Older dilf Jayce save me. Please older dilf Jayce 🙏🙏
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Isabella Talis is the cutest little girl you've ever seen. She's damn near a carbon-copy of her dad. Big brown eyes, bouncy black hair, sun-kissed skin, and big 'ol dimples when she smiles.
You've been babysitting her for a while now, about a decade now. You got the job when you were fifteen, now you're twenty-five. You started babysitting Bella when she was three, now she's thirteen. Honestly, she makes you feel old.
Especially since so many people assume you're her parent.
Going grocery shopping with her, going out to eat, having girl's days together, going to school events and celebrations; you can see where people are coming from.
Especially since Bella listens to you without hesitation. She only calls you by your name or nickname, but that doesn't matter. You're her parent in all the ways that matter.
Isabella's mom wasn't ready. She didn't want to be a mom, you can't blame her. Jayce was in his late-twenties to early thirties when Bella was born, her mom was a few years younger than Jayce. So Jayce became her single-dad with Grandma Ximena helping care of her.
So, you’ve gotten quite used to caring for young Isabella Talis.
You’ve also gotten used to caring for her dad, Jayce Talis.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Jayce Talis is a very well known man. A co-creator of Hextech, a councillor of Piltover, constantly working. Poor thing is exhausted.
So you ensure he’s taken care of.
You clean the house, you make hot meals for him, you even meal prep for him.
He can’t tell you how grateful he is for that.
But he shows it in his actions.
He ensures you’re also cared for, he pays you well for your work (even though you try to deny it every time. He insists), he gets you gifts that you’ll appreciate for life, he’s even physically affectionate.
Sometimes you think it’s wrong, but you don’t care.
A kiss to your cheek, your neck, his beard tickling your skin, his hands on your waist, your hips, long loving hugs. Hands playing with your hair, hands massaging your neck.
God, you feel like you’re in the foreplay section of a porn video.
“Babysitter gets ruined by Older Hot Boss. 35:12”
You’ve always found Jayce attractive, you obviously didn’t act on it since you were underage. It was wrong, taboo. Now, you’re an adult.
Having your fantasies isn’t wrong, it isn’t against the law.
But you’re quite certain Jayce feels the same way. You remember the last time you were cooking for Jayce after he came home, Isabella already sleeping in her room.
You remember Jayce pining you essentially to the stove top as you stirred the boiling pasta. Kissing the nape of your neck as he slowly ground his hips into your ass. You felt how needy he was, and you let him continue.
Poor thing is pent up, and you did promise yourself you’d do anything to help him out.
It also helped it made you feel good too.
You two didn’t talk about it when eating dinner together, but your heated gazes said more than any words could.
Turns out the fantasies you’ve had since you were a student at the academy may actually come true.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
You have to be quite. No if’s, ands, or buts. Isabella is sleeping just down the hall, and you don’t want to traumatize her having her hear you two have sex.
So you cover your mouth desperately as Jayce pounds into you. Thank god the bed doesn’t squeak.
The two of you angle yourselves so your skin doesn’t slap together. You don’t want her to hear anything. You know how awkward and traumatic it is to hear your parents have sex and you don’t want Bella to go through that.
But damn does Jayce fuck like a sex god.
His salt and pepper hair falling into his face, his mouth curled into a sneer as he holds back his moans, his hips punishing.
Your eyes water at the overwhelming pleasure. You rip your hand away from your mouth and desperately kiss Jayce. His hips stutter a bit before picking up speed, the two of you whining into each other’s mouth.
A desperate grip causes Jayce’s back to get red lines. The cuts lightly bleeding as you cum around his cock. The fluttering of your hole cause Jayce’s eyes to roll the back of his head as he cums inside you.
The two of you pant as you kiss, Jayce essentially falling on top of you. You grunt due to the weight but don’t complain, he’s the perfect weighted blanket. You caress his face, his beard surprisingly soft.
“We probably shouldn’t have done that.” Jayce states quietly, your hand pauses for a moment, “Probably. But I don’t regret it.”
“Neither do I. Stay the night? I don’t feel comfortable having you leave so late at night.”
You smile sweetly at Jayce, he’s always cared for you the entire time he’s known you. What a sweetheart.
“Of course.”
Jayce smiles, the crows feet near his eyes deepening as his pearly whites beam at you, the little gap between his front teeth make you want to coo, “Isabella is gonna freak out knowing you slept over and it wasn’t with her for once.”
You lightly laugh as you slap Jayce’s back, he laughs too.
“You’re such a shit disturber.”
“You have no proof.”
Yeah… your fifteen year old self would be screaming and fainting right about now. Your inner teen is immensely satisfied.
As are you as a twenty-five year old.
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Dilf Jayce 😩😩 he 100% gives girl dad
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checosbluespring · 7 months ago
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secrets we keep (pt2) → mv1
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max verstappen x perez!fem reader
genre: teammates sister, pregnancy
cw: 18+ MDNI, smut, oral (female receiving), p in v, slight possessiveness, dirty talk, pregnancy, childbirth (brief), slight angst?, pls let me know if i am forgetting anything
word count: 6.4k
song: coraźon sin cara-prince royce
sidenote: omg!! finally after 2 monthes i am finally done with part 2 of secrets we keep. this is the last part of the series but if you guys want i could do an epilogue, let me know what yall think. also thank you so so so much for all the positive feedback on this story, you are all amazing. please send in requests and i will do them to the best of my ability! also like true me fastion this is not beta read. hope you all enjoy <3
you can read part one here
���♡♡♡
It's been three months since you first found out about the baby. You haven't told anyone. Trying your best to hide your newly growing bump. Even though you were scared, you knew you wanted to keep the baby. Even if you had to pack up and leave everything behind, this baby was yours and you were going to be their mom. 
It wasn't hard keeping this a secret from your brother, he was halfway across the world but your mom and dad on the other hand were difficult. As time went on you felt as if you couldn't keep it a secret from anyone. You felt alone, you had to go to all your doctors appointments by yourself and it was scary. 
You wanted to showcase your pregnancy, wanted a baby shower, to wear long flowy dresses that pronounced your bump. You wanted to start decorating a nursery for the baby. You couldn't do that alone, you needed to tell someone. You needed to tell your mom. But that meant telling them that you would be a single parent. Not that there's anything wrong with that but you know that's not what your family envisioned for you. You couldn't keep doing this alone though. You are about to find out the sex of the baby and you want your whole family to be there.
Making your way to your parents house, you see your brother's car in the driveway. You don't panic right away because you assume it's carola bringing the kids over to visit. When you walked in you shouted “mamá estoy en casa” mom I'm home. You miss living with them but you visit almost every other day, so really it's like you never left. 
Walking through the house you hear no-one, but as you make your way through the kitchen to the back patio you see your brother. “Ay dios mio” oh my god, you scream and practically run into Sergio’s arms. 
“Hola hermanita” hi baby sister, he says while hugging you back. You blame it on the pregnancy hormones but you start crying. “Hey, qué pasa?” What's wrong? He asked in a worried tone. You don’t know what overcame you but you felt the sudden urge to tell them. 
“¿Puedes sentarte con mamá y papá?” Can you sit with mom and dad? It’s just the four of you at the house. The sooner you get this done, the sooner you can start living life. Your mom and dad look worried, you don’t want to scare them so you just blurt it out.
“Mamá, papá, sergio, estoy embarazada” mom, dad, sergio, I’m pregnant. Nothing would prepare you for the looks on their face. Your mom and dads jaw on the floor, your brother's jaw clenched.
“Hablas en serio” are you serious, your dad spoke up. All you can do is nod. “Who’s the dad? How did this happen” your mom said in English. You knew she was shocked because she hardly ever used English when it was just the 4 of you. It’s not like you weren’t expecting them to ask who the father was. But you hadn’t quite thought of who you were going to tell them. Because there is no way you are going to tell them about Max, they would kill you. Sergio would look at you differently. 
“I-i-i, I can’t tell you who it is because he doesn’t matter, he doesn’t want to be a father right now and I won’t put him in the position to do so. I want this baby because I know I have you guys to help support and love me. This baby is going to be so loved, it doesn’t need a dad because they are going to have sergio and dad being a great role models for them. Mom, I need your love and guidance right now more than anything in the world. I am still your daughter, I want you to love this baby no matter what, no matter who their dad is, or how they were conceived” you said while big tears rolled down your face. 
Segio was the first to move and give you a hug, whispering “I always got you”. He leans back and places a hand on your stomach, “seré un tío” I am going to be an uncle. 
You nod and smile. Your mom and dad look perplexed but they make their way to you and both give you a kiss on the cheek and a hug. “No puedo esperar para conocerte bebé''  I can’t wait to meet you baby,  your mom said while holding your stomach. You know it’s going to take some time for your dad to come around to the idea but he’s supportive and that’s all that matters. 
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦     ˚     . ★⋆.    .     ˚     *     ✦   .  .   ✦ ˚      ˚ .˚      .  .   ˚ .             ✦
Over the next couple of weeks you finally start getting stuff ready for the baby. Buying stuff for the nursery and clothes for yourself. Right after your brother found out about the pregnancy he took you to the store and had you pick out a crib you liked. You were forever grateful to have him. 
It’s Friday morning and you are patiently waiting for your mom and carola to pick you up for your ultrasound appointment, where you would be finding out if you are having a boy or girl. You are beyond excited. You don’t care what you have, as long as the baby is healthy and happy. 
Getting up to put your shoes on, you hear your phone ring, assuming it’s your mom and sister in law telling you that they are ready for you to come out. You look at your phone and see it’s a text from a random number. Something in the universe is telling you not to open it, but you do. 
Hey y/n. It’s max. I just wanted to text you and see how you are. I know it’s been a couple of months since we last talked, but I feel like you are avoiding me. I take part of the blame too. I should have reached out but I was expecting to see you in Miami but you weren’t there. Is it because of me? I promise I’ll leave you alone if it is. I just want to make sure you are okay. I hope to see you at the Mexico GP in the next few months. Please text me if you ever need anything. I’m here for you. 
You don’t realize the way your eyes are stinging with tears until after you are done reading the text. A pang of guilt and sadness washes over you. You want to be so mad at max for texting you, but you know he has no idea, and he’s just trying to be nice. Your heart physically hurts, it’s like your baby knows it’s missing a piece of something. You remind yourself though that you are strong, so is this baby, and max is just getting started with his career. He does not need you or a baby weighing him down. 
Jolting you out of your thoughts, you hear the car horn signaling you to walk out the door. You can’t dwell on max, he’s a distant memory. All you should be focusing on is this baby. No matter how bad it hurts not having the father of your child around. 
Once at the doctors office, you are laying down with your belly exposed and cold gel covering every inch. “Do you want to know the sex of the baby?” You nod eagerly and hold your moms hand. 
“Ooo they are hiding from me, come on baby let’s see what you are” finally finding a good position, the doctor takes a few pictures and says “congratulations mama, it looks like you are having a girl”. You look over to see your mom crying and Carola recording everything. “I’m having a baby girl” you kept repeating to yourself. You have never felt more happy. 
When you are home alone, you start to think of the life you and your daughter will have. How you are going to homeschool her, and travel everywhere together. But your mind drifts to what could have been if max was involved. You had no doubt that max would be the best dad. He would be devoted and loving. A good father. He would take your daughter all over, putting her in karting right away but ultimately letting her choose her own path. Stop y/n, you tell yourself, those are dreams that won’t be coming true but you and your family will provide the best life for your baby girl. 
All you can do is be thankful and happy, you want to embrace pregnancy in the next 5 months. You ultimately decide it’s best not to text max back, not to add fuel to the fire. You hope as time goes on you are able to accept the fact that max won’t be a part of this journey. 
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦     ˚     . ★⋆.    .     ˚     *     ✦   .  .   ✦ ˚      ˚ .˚      .  .   ˚ .             ✦
Months have passed, leaving you in your third trimester with little under eight weeks until you meet your precious baby. Pregnancy has been tough but also so rewarding, you can finally feel her little kicks, especially when you are watching your brother race on tv, subconsciously you wonder if she gets so excited because she sees her dad but then you tell yourself to stop being so delusional and she doesn't even know who her father is.
The Mexico GP is today and you have already told your entire family you aren't going. It would be too risky for the baby, but in reality it's too risky for max to see you. There was no more hiding your pregnancy. No matter how big the shirt or hoodie is, you can still see your bump. It’s better you stay home and just wait for everyone to come back. 
Kicking your feet up, you turn on the tv and watch the start of the race. You see the crowds filled with your brother's face, and his number along with max’s. Sergio had a great start, pushing to the front of the grid, having him leading the race. Max followed closely behind him. 
The race after the start was uneventful. Your brother won and you were extremely sad you didn't get to be there to congratulate him in person. Max was second and then Oscar, it was a good podium in your eyes. 
You patiently wait for your entire family to come home including your brother. You knew that would be hours though, so you decided to take a nap on the couch. That nap ended up being a five hour nap and when you opened your eyes you saw it was dark out. Something woke you up though and it was the sound of the front door of your parents house unlocking. Sitting up you get ready to jump into your brother's arms to congratulate him. One by one your family walks in, mom, dad, carola, the kids, sergio, and then max. 
You feel your heart drop to your stomach, you have to think quickly. He may find out you are pregnant but your family doesn't need to know that. Walking confidently over to your brother you pull him into a hug and say “felicidades hermano estoy muy feliz por ti” congrats brother I am so happy for you. You have yet to acknowledge that max is even standing in your familys living room with his mouth agape. Sergio hugs you back and says a quiet thank you. 
“¿Por qué está Max en la casa?” Why is max at the house? You say to your brother hoping max did not catch any of that. But your brother had a different idea. 
“Max wanted to come see the house and the city so we offered to let him stay the night and we can take him sightseeing tomorrow!” 
You nod your head and walk over to him, extending your hand out for him to shake. “Welcome max, and congrats on the podium” you say. There was no way he didn't see your stomach. You were wearing a tiny tank top that you practically spilled out of. You know he's not going to say anything to you in front of your family. So maybe if you went to your room and ignored him this whole thing would blow over. 
You should know better than that though. Because your family loved to bring up the fact that you are pregnant. You couldn't blame them, they had no idea that the father of the baby was 2 feet away from them.
Your mom was the first to speak up. “How is the baby Amor, did you get to rest or did she keep you up”. Well now he knows it's a girl. A part of you wanted to go cry in a corner but another part wanted to dote on your daughter no matter what. “No she has been really content today, during the race when she saw you sergio she got so happy, she was moving all over the place”.
A big smile formed on your brother's face, “that's my niece, she couldn't wait to see her uncle win”. You take a sneakily look over to max and he looks confused, hurt, and tired. You can't deal with this, you have to excuse yourself. You are going to tell them you have to go back to your house, even though you have been spending the last week sleeping over at your parents. 
“Guys I think I am going to drive back to my apartment, that way max can sleep in my room” you say hoping you came off as convincing 
“Nonsense, I can sleep on the couch” max is quick to reply.
Your dad is next to reply “you can't leave in the middle of the night, you are 8 months pregnant, you can't be alone”.
You don't have the energy to fight them so you bid them a goodnight and head to your room, hoping you don't get a visitor late in the night. Oh how could you be so wrong. 
Tossing and turning in your bed you can't fall asleep, maybe it was the nap, maybe it was because your baby's father was 10 feet away from you. You don't know if it's the hormones but you want him, it's like a primal urge. Like you have been separated for so long and he just suddenly came back and he looked good. His hair is long, a tiny bit of stubble growing on his cheeks. 
You have to sleep but you can't. You look at your phone and it's 3 in the morning, max has to be asleep right, it was an exhausting race. He wouldn't wake up right? If you go out to make yourself some tea. 
You hate yourself for it but part of your subconscious wants him to ask, but you know deep down that would be the worst possible idea. Throwing your feet off the bed you stand up unsteadily and start to slowly walk out of your room. Max looks like he’s asleep as you pass the couch. Once in the kitchen you turn on the small light next to the oven and start to make yourself some tea. 
Once done with putting everything away you turn around to grab your drink but see a sleepy looking max walk over to you. You don't mean to sound hostile but you do when you say “why are you up”. This was the man you loved, the father of your baby, but you were angry, at yourself or at him, you didn't know. 
“I could ask you the same question” he responded. “I couldn't sleep, so I needed to get myself some tea, goodnight max”. You begin to walk away and as you walk past him he grabs your arm and says “wait, we need to talk”. Shit you've been caught, you think to yourself.
“About what?” Maybe if you play dumb he will also and ignore everything. 
“You know about what y/n, don't play dumb, it's not a good look on you” max says with a snarl and strong grip on your forearm. The authoritativeness of his voice and demeanor sends chills down your spine. 
“Okay, but not here” you whisper. Grabbing his hand you wander outside to the patio where no one can hear you from inside the house. You sit down and let max talk. 
“So. You're pregnant?” 
“Yes” is all you can say
“Your dad said you're eight months pregnant, so either you were pregnant when we slept together, or that baby is mine. Which is it y/n?” 
“I - I, it's none of your business max, this baby and I were fine before this and we will be fine long after you leave” you stutter out.
“So she is mine, god damnit y/n, why didn't you tell me? I've lost 8 months of your pregnancy. Were you ever going to tell me?” 
Guilt is eating away at you and you feel tears burning your eyes.
“I didn't think you would want anything to do with the baby max, you and I live completely different lives. You are you max, having a baby is a big responsibility. Do you know how hard it is for carola? She has four babies. She has to take them on planes all over the world so they can see their dad. How could I raise a baby with you, when we hardly know each other? When you don't even want to be with me? Tell me max, how would that work?”
“That's not your decision to decide on your own. How could you hide this from me? I could have been there for you, I could have been the one taking you to doctors appointments. Who knows?”
“Who knows what?”
“Who knows I’m the dad?”
“No one, I told them it doesn’t matter who the father is”
“I can’t believe you y/n, now everyone is going to think I’m some deadbeat dad who doesn’t want to be a part of their baby’s life. Well to hell with that, no more secrets. I am going to raise this baby and we are going to do it together” he said.
All you can do is nod your head and whisper out an “okay max, no more secrets”
“And who said I didn’t want to be with you?” 
This catches your attention, because you hoped he would have ignored you when you said that. But of course he didn’t, max is the most observant person you've ever met.
“Max you have no idea how long I’ve been in love with you. Long before you and segio even became teammates, I yearned for you. But I refuse to trap you into staying with me just because I am having your baby”
“Again y/n that’s not your decision to make, do you think I would have slept with you if I didn’t have feelings for you. What kind of guy do you think I am? Y/n I don’t know where we stand on us being together but we are both the parents and I know we care for eachother. I will move to Mexico if I have to, but you are not going to keep this baby out of my life”
“I understand max, but what are we going to do when the press find out? Do you really want your daughter under that scrutiny? How are we going to tell our families? I’m sure my brother and your father are gonna be really fond of the idea of us having a baby together”
“Y/n you are not listening to me, none of that matters, who cares what anyone says. If your brother decides to punch me so be it, but that’s not going to stop me from being a loving and present dad, I’m not going to be like my father”
Something snaps inside of you, a need to reassure him and be close to him. You stand up and grab both his hands.
“Of course you aren’t going to be like your father, you are an amazing person, I didn’t keep this pregnancy a secret because I thought you would be a bad dad, I did it because I was scared of everything else. You don’t know how much I wished you were at the doctors appointments with me holding my hand. Going shopping to buy clothes and bottles. Some nights I would cry myself to sleep knowing our daughter would grow up not having you in her life. Taking her karting, protecting her, chasing her around that paddock. So don't ever think I hid her from you because I thought you were going to be a bad dad. It was me who was scared of how everyone would react and what they would say when they found out their precious max verstappen would have a child out of wedlock”. 
Max pulls you into a hug, and for once in these past 7 months of pregnancy you felt like you could finally breathe.
“I’m going to protect you guys no matter what” he muttered into your hair.
The baby was excited, maybe because she knew her dad was finally with us. She was kicking up a storm. 
“Max feel, she’s so happy you are here” you say as you grab his hand and place it on your tummy. 
“She’s strong, maybe she will want to play football one day” he says with a smile. 
“Let’s go to bed, we can talk more tomorrow” grabbing his hand you lead him to your bedroom.
Laying down on your side, max lays behind you and places a hand over your stomach. You sleep the best you have in a very long time. 
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦     ˚     . ★⋆.    .     ˚     *     ✦   .  .   ✦ ˚      ˚ .˚      .  .   ˚ .             ✦
Telling your family that max was the father of your baby went as well as you would think. No glasses were broken, no bleeding, there were some strong words shared but honestly you expected that. 
As max was taking a shower, you sat in the living room waiting for everyone to come out to leave. Your brother plops down next to you and says “you know you could have told me”
“I couldn’t sergio, I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me”
“Y/n you are my sister, you always come first before my career, I could never be disappointed in you. Grossed out a little? Yeah. But never disappointed.”
You find yourself laughing and laying your head on his shoulder. You don’t know how you got so lucky to have a family so supportive. 
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦     ˚     . ★⋆.    .     ˚     *     ✦   .  .   ✦ ˚      ˚ .˚      .  .   ˚ .             ✦
Being with max is like a breath of fresh air. You didn’t know how bad you actually needed him, and now that you actually have him, you aren’t sure you can let go.
He jumped into his role of father to be fast and efficiently, much like he does with everything else. Before he left back to Monaco, he asked if he could go to a doctor's appointment with you and of course you said yes. You did make him wear a mask and hoodie to help disguise him. 
Your doctor was surprised to see you come with a man, as you thought she probably assumed you were doing this alone. 
“Who is this?” She asks with a smile and extends her hand out for max to shake.
Just as you were about to say a friend. He beats you to the punchline. 
“Hello, I am the father of the baby, sorry it’s taken so long for us to meet, my work schedule keeps me busy” You smiled and grabbed his hand. 
The rest of the appointment was smooth, the exciting part was the ultrasound. Max was by your head, watching tentatively at the screen.
“Baby girl looks good, has a fast little heart beat, height and weight are all in range, let’s take a listen to her” the doctor says as she allows us to hear the echoes of the baby’s heartbeat. This wasn’t new to you, but you never got over the fact that you were growing another life in you. You look over and see max in absolute awe. If you look close enough you actually think you see a tear in his eye. He grips your hand tight and says “her heart beat is so fast and strong, oh my god I can’t believe we are actually seeing her, doctor can I please have an ultrasound picture”. You are shocked he asked her for one, but for some reason his asking really reassured you that he was in this for the long haul, even if you guys weren’t a couple. 
The appointment wraps up with the doctor giving us a couple ultrasound pictures and instructions to not travel, as you might actually deliver within the next couple of weeks if not sooner. 
As you are driving home with max you ask what he thought. “Y/n that was amazing, I can’t believe we are having a little girl. She’s so big and strong already, do you have any names you think? I know we have a lot of stuff to discuss but after seeing her, everything seems like it’s going to work out. I will do whatever I have to, to keep you and her safe”.
You feel the words get stuck in your throat, all you can do is nod and say “it’s going to be the greatest experience you and I have ever accomplished. As for names, I have a couple in mind but I want your input. I have always really liked the name Alejandra or Catalina. but I want her to have a part of your culture in her name as well”. You look over to him to see a satisfied smile resting upon his face. 
“I think those are great names, she will have a part of me in her last name, so whatever first name you want, I am happy to go along with it”. 
Life feels really good right now. The sun is shining, and even though you and max are not together in the way you want, you will both work together to provide your daughter a happy life.
Max takes you back to your place. As you both walk in, you wash your hands and proceed to plop down on the couch, not bothering to take off your shoes. Max notices and kneels in front of you to unlace your laces, slowly taking them off. You don’t know if it’s the hormones but the tiniest of touch was leaving you with butterflies in your stomach. 
“Thank you max” you muttered. 
“What kind of partner would I be if I wasn’t able to do this for you” your heart skips a beat when he says the word partner. 
Once finished he stands to look down at you. “You know y/n, pregnancy suits you. You look so pretty with our baby growing in you”. You can’t help but blush at the compliment. Starting to feel a heat overtake your body. You wanted him, but you couldn’t let him know that.
It’s like he could read your mind though. “Do you know I think about our night together often, every time before bed I touch myself thinking about your body and how it felt. Ever since being in Mexico, everytime I shower I get myself off thinking of you. Seeing you so domestic, barefooted, pregnant, not a care in the world, It makes me feral for you. I crave you y/n, do you feel the same?”
If it was easy for you to get up from the couch you would have pounced on him in a second. But instead he understands and grabs both of your arms, hoisting you up so you are standing in front of him. “Max, do you know how difficult it has been for me to not kiss you, grab you, love you this past week, I want you so bad, I want to be yours forever and always”
That's all max needs to hear before he grabs your face leading you into a kiss. It's a little awkward because of your big belly but you guys make it work. You can't stop kissing him. Things get heated very fast, teeth clashing, lips being bitten, hair being pulled. Max leads you to your bedroom where he takes off his shirt then yours. You hadn't worn a bra that day so he immediately went to grab your tits, worshiping them.
“God, your tits are amazing, they are so massive, presented to me, ready for me to take and devour”
You moan in response when you look down to see max leaving feather-like kisses around your nipples. When he hears your moan he pops one of your nipples into his mouth and begins to suck. While it all felt so good, you wanted him in you and he could tell you were growing impatient.
Popping off, he leads you to the bed and makes you sit. Your face now level with his crotch. You take this opportunity to start to unbuckle his belt and shimmy his pants and underwear off. Just as you are about to take him into your mouth, he stops you. 
“Not today darling, today is about you, and I want to taste you, I've been dreaming about it for months”
He lays you back gently, pulling off your pants and underwear you feel the slightest insecure at being so exposed. In response you try and close your legs but he doesn't let that stop him. He separates them open with his hands, kneeling in front of you. 
“Don't hide from me baby, let me make you feel good” max says as he looks up at you for confirmation.
You nod, and prop yourself up on your elbows so you can see what he's doing. Quite honestly you can't really see him because your belly is in the way but you do make eye contact with him as he makes his way down. 
He licks a fat stripe right on your heat, it sends shocks of pleasure coursing through you. Max proceeds to kiss along the sides of your thighs, teasing you.
“Max, babe, please” you beg out.
“Is my girl needy for me? You're mine right? No one else, just mine. Say it y/n, tell me you are mine” 
He has barely touched you and you already feel so fucked out. You manage to get the words out though “yes max I'm yours, only yours, I only have ever wanted you”. That seems to satisfy him because his mouth is on your clit in seconds. Taking his time between licking and sucking the bundle of nerves. It felt euphoric, max didn't get a chance to go down on you the first time you guys had sex, but now that you've got a taste of what his mouth could do, you don't know how you could ever let it go. 
Sucking hard on your clit, he takes the opportunity to stick his middle finger in you. Slowly working you open, not that you need it, you are dripping in arousal. Your moans are filling up the room, max adds a second finger in you, curling up, creating something you have never felt before. The way his fingers moved inside of you, the way his mouth devoured you. It felt so good, you felt bad because you were pulling his hair, practically moving his face. 
“Fuck, max your mouth feels so good”.
Max takes his mouth off of you and says “you taste so good y/n, I could eat you out for hours on end” 
You never pegged max to be a man practically starved for pussy but here you are, and you are grateful that he is. You needed him in you though. 
“Amor (love), please come fuck me, I need it so bad” 
“How can I say no to my pretty girl, lay on your side” 
You shimmy yourself up the bed, laying on your side. Max makes his way beside you, laying down. You take the opportunity to turn your head back and look at him. You see him slowly pumping his cock, about to slide it in you he asks, “Shit, do you want me to wear a condom”
Quite literally you couldn’t want anything less. “No no no, please I want to feel you fill me up. I want to be dripping with your cum” 
“Fuck you drive me crazy y/n, you have such a dirty mouth on you.”
You reach back and grab his hip, helping him line himself up with your entrance. He trusts into you in one swift motion, the burn is just like you remember. The stretch is unlike anything you’ve ever felt. Max takes his hand and reaches over to interlock his fingers with yours. No words have been exchanged but you have never felt closer to him than in this moment. 
You can’t reach back to kiss him, but he does leave a trail of wet, sloppy, kisses down your neck. You can already tell you aren’t going to last much longer, you have had so much bottled up, you needed a release. Max can tell by the way you are clenching down on him. 
“Are you close? Play with your pretty clit for me, I’m right there with you”
You nod vigorously, taking your hand and rubbing between your legs. The next thing you know you feel your climax reach an all time high, and you are cumming all over his cock. You let out the biggest moan and feel your legs shaking. You can feel yourself throbbing, basically begging Max to cum inside you. He grabs your hip hard, you look down and see his knuckles are white, he slams into not once, not twice, but three times and suddenly you feel a warm liquid filling you up. Max groans, placing his face in your neck. 
You guys lie there in a comfortable silence, just enjoying the closeness and comfort, because tomorrow he will be leaving back home and you don’t know how you are going to handle it.
Max slowly slides out of you and you feel his seed leaking out of you down your thighs. He kisses your cheek and mutters something about cleaning you up. He comes back in with a wipe and spreads your legs to clean you up. This feels extremely intimate but you allow yourself to be comfortable with it because you deserve to be taken care of. 
After everything is sorted, you are both laying down and it’s you who speaks first. “Max, what does this mean”
He takes a deep breath before speaking. “I was mad at you for not telling me, I needed time to process everything, which is why I told you I needed time, but don't ever for a second doubt I didn't want you or the baby. I'm in it for the long run y/n. I’ll follow you both anywhere.”
“I’m sorry max, I can't imagine a life where you and I aren't together” 
“You shouldn't be due until the end of the season, so right after the last race i'll pack a couple of bags and stay down here. I was thinking we would spend the first 6 months in Mexico and the next 6 in Monaco. I'll keep paying the house so we can go whenever. When racing starts back up we will figure it out then but im looking forward to having a couple of months with you guys disturbance free”
Your heart warms at the idea of him finding compromises for the both of you. And he was right, we would figure the logistics out as time went on, all that mattered was that you both were on the same page. 
˚    ✦   .  .   ˚ .      . ✦     ˚     . ★⋆.    .     ˚     *     ✦   .  .   ✦ ˚      ˚ .˚      .  .   ˚ .             ✦
Max and Sergio finished the season off strong, and max stayed true to his word. Right after the last race he was on the first plane out to Mexico to join you for the birth. 
Quite honestly he came in just enough time because not even two days after his arrival, your water broke. 
“Do we have everything packed in the car max” you ask while pacing around the room.
“Yes sweetheart, let's get going” 
As you expected max was completely calm and collected, acting as a support system. When the doctor came in and told you, we were ready to push, you got scared and max could sense that. He grabbed your hand and whispered “hey look at me. everything is going to be okay, do you think I would ever let anything happen to you guys? you are so strong and I can’t wait to see our beautiful daughter”
His words of encouragement helped you during the delivery process and before you knew it, your baby girl’s cry’s entered the room. 
“Dad, do you want to cut the umbilical cord?” the doctor asked. The sheer look of awe was all over max’s face. You watch as he gently cuts the cord and makes his way back to you. After she is cleaned up they plop her down on your chest and you just take her in. She is the perfect mix of both of you, she has max’s pretty turquoise eyes and your dark hair. 
You look up at max and see that he has tears in his eyes. 
“She’s so beautiful, she’s perfect y/n and she’s all ours”
You nod because you are at a loss for words at how special this moment is.To think what this would look like right now if you never told him. Looking at both max and the baby, you begin to wonder how lucky you got. This baby started as a secret but ended up being the best thing that could happen to either of you. And you can’t wait to see the life that you and max build together. 
♡♡♡♡
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fyodoro · 8 months ago
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4:15am — Hayato Suo
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“A real gentleman is as polite to a little girl as to a woman.”
You remember reading that exact line a while back, though you can’t remember where. And if it weren’t for your boyfriend holding a lost little girl’s hand as he brings her to safety, you would have forgotten the quote altogether.
But today that quote wasn’t leaving your mind anytime soon.
“Here you go, let’s sit down here,” Suo gestured to a nearby bench, gently guiding her through her teary eyes. “Do you happen to remember your parent’s number?”
The young girl sniffled and wiped her tear stained cheeks. “N-No, I’m sorry…” she croaked, guilt creeping into her glossy eyes.
He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Hey now— it’s okay,” he whispered soothingly. “I’m sure they’re looking for you too. Could you give us a visual description of what they look like?”
You were seated next to the little girl while Suo was crouched besides her, opting to give you the leftover seat for a chance to rest your legs. It was a sweet gesture, really. But you wish he’d give himself an opportunity to rest too, seeing as he just dealt with a small gang all by himself.
How this situation started was a blur. One minute you were shopping for a new flavor of tea with Suo, and the next you were comforting a girl no older then ten while your boyfriend beat up a group of punks that thought it’d be fun to pick on her. The moment they were all down, Suo had the three of you flee the scene to keep the young girl safe.
You kept a gentle gaze on the girl next to you, though it didn’t stop you from sending Suo a concerned glance for her. She was clearly frightened— no doubt about it, and you couldn’t blame her. If you were little, lost from your parents, and older kids started teasing you, you’d get worked up as well.
“They’re tall… both reallyyy tall,” she said through sniffles. “Mommy has long blonde hair, and daddy has big curly hair on his head and face.”
Suo nodded, retaining the newly acquired information. “I see, can you recall the last place you saw them?”
He gazed at her softly, a look that made her feel safe and secure despite it coming from a stranger. Her sniffles stifled, and her breathing soothed.
Before she could respond, haste footsteps approached the three of you. You snapped your head in the direction the sound came from for confirmation that it wasn’t the boys from earlier. Instead, you were met with unfamiliar faces that matched the description you had just heard.
“Oh goodness, there she is!”
The blonde woman came rushing to her daughter, scooping her up in her arms as she let out a sigh of relief. “We were so worried about you…”
Suo and you both stood, finding your way back to each other’s sides as you watched the small family reunite.
The man— who you could only assume was the little girl’s father— bowed in gratitude.
“Thank you, thank you so much for keeping her safe,” he expressed, sounding quite out of breath.
“We were happy to help,” Suo smiled. “She didn’t get herself into any trouble, unfortunately it came to her. So please, don’t blame her for the commotion.”
The girl’s mother set her back on her feet, allowing her to hug both your and Suo simultaneously. You both hugged back, of course.
“I hope I can be as cool as you guys one day…!”
You side-eyed your boyfriend subtly, as did he, and let out a small chuckle. Neither of you would consider your actions to be “cool,” they were just good deeds. It’d be pure evil to leave such a young kid alone in a dangerous situation, something neither you or Suo would stand for.
“Again, thank you so much. We really can’t thank you enough for handling everything.”
You waved your hands, “It was no problem, really. Like he said— we were glad to help.”
Suo nodded next to you, tilting his head and sending a close-eyed smile to the family, waving as they set off. Once they were out of sight, a sigh of relief escaped your lips.
“Stressed?”
“Not anymore, but that whole thing had my heart racing. That poor girl…” your voice trailed off, thinking about what might’ve happened if neither of you were nearby. “Although…”
His brow lifted in curiosity as you turned to face him with a teasing grin. “I never imagined you being such a hero to kids~”
“What can I say?” he chuckled. “I’ve always been a gentleman haven’t I? That’s what you and the others have been telling me, at least.”
“Yeah, but I think this qualified you as a true gentleman.”
There’s no way that quote won’t cross your mind every time you see Suo from now on. Not until it’s erased from your memory, that is.
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© enassbraid 2024. i do not permit plagiarism, translations, or reposts of my work on any platform
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solspina · 2 months ago
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In Unlovable Hand
Mephiston ⋆˙⟡
wrote this in 20 minutes, not proofread and it’s 7am. need this man out of my head immediately, i have a dante fic marinating in my drafts please let me release it… mephiston is holding me hostage (kidding of course i love you husband)
Sanguinius’ former serf is called to take care of the Lord of Death’s horribly neglected wings for the who-knows-what-number time. The tension is higher this time than it was the last, and the two decide to hit it off into something absolutely miserable. oh
warnings: some sanguinius x reader mentions, toxic relationship dynamics, manipulation, blood, lil bit of biting
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Mephiston lay completely still, wings uncomfortably outstretched, eyes baggy and half-lidded.
His chest felt painfully empty, it always did, but more so in the presence of the woman who preened at his psychic wings and dug stubborn feathers out of the creases he couldn't reach. A servant of Sanguinius, she used to be. He could feel her persecuting gaze burning at the back of his skull (at least he thought he could), and he could feel her fingers pulling at some of his oily black quills far too harshly. Still, he did not move, his face remained expressionless and stoic instead as he wondered whether or not she had a knife tucked securely somewhere in her clothing, and whether he would feel it's blade make a home between his shoulder blades at any given time.
His muscles involuntarily twitched at the pain in his wing as she pulled out a particular feather, and his face contorted into a wince.
“I apologize… just a blood feather… It wasn’t quite ready but you will not bleed.” She whispered from behind him, taking note of the way his back muscles had tensed after his small outburst of pain. “The quill was cracked.”
She seemed satisfied at the way he buried his face back into his pillow, still clearly in pain. She stroked at the area she pulled the massive feather from with one hand as she held it in the other, watching it disappear like floating ashes into thin air as it were severed from Mephiston’s psychic bond with his wings, no longer tethered down to reality.
She sat on her knees while she continued her work upon the lord of death’s wings as he fought sleep, sprawled out in front of her like a bird on a surgical table. At the very least, the silk sheets the two of them sat on top of were comfortable. She could feel them on the skin of her legs and did not blame him for his display of exhaustion, or his frustration from the inability to fall asleep.
“I don’t think i’ve ever seen wings as unkempt as yours.” She said. She teased him to keep him awake, hoping that he wouldn’t fall asleep and leave her to sneak out of the room so she didn’t wake him. “I say this even after i’ve seen some rather questionable mutants.”
“Mutants were human at one point too." He replied rather harshly. "They can be communal, the winged ones will have their parents teach them how to care for their wings.” His voice was cold, empty but somehow aggressive and sour alongside it. Whether his tone was toward her or toward Sanguinius for giving him - and him alone - such a gift without teaching him how to care for it, she did not know.
A heavy pause rung through the air, and she swore she could hear his hearts pounding slowly in his chest. “Why do you only ever sulk when i’m around, my lord?”
Truth be told, he had not been prepared for her to ask such a question, regardless of whether or not he had an answer. There were many that could be applied to what she was asking, many reasons for his brooding nature that she got to see much more often than his brothers. Perhaps it was because she knew the angel personally that he felt safe enough to sulk and express his exhaustion, or maybe it was the fact that he knew her opinion wouldn’t change no matter his mood, she would hate him for what he was regardless. He rejected his father’s gifts. He conquered them, and his own brothers hated him for it.
Astorath wanted him dead.
Dante almost approved.
Gabriel Seth spared not a single glance before he called him an abomination.
What was it she would do?
She knew what he was. The black angel, half of sanguinius’ soul, a vessel for the most horrible things about a man she loved ten thousand years ago. Even the care she provided him with, the preening of his wings and the frequent meetings with him, were simply an attempt at appeasing the angel’s soul. She gained time with a fragment of her long gone lover, and Mephiston got to pretend that someone cared for him beyond his use as a vessel and a monster.
As if feeling his thoughts, she removed her hands from his wings - modeled perfectly after his father’s - and placed her hands upon the cold skin of his back instead.
He let out a small groan as her knuckles buried themselves into his shoulders and ran down into the lower areas of his back. Her hands moved with greater precision than he thought possible up and down his spine, kneading their way through tense and aching muscles as his jaw fell slack from pure pleasure and his eyes failed to resist the need to roll back, or close, or something that wasn’t staring into oblivion.
“Relax, oh lord of death… am I hurting you?” She replied to his short series of quivering breaths and whimpers before he relaxed into her palms.
“No… just… feels good…” He managed to let out as years of aching pain were rubbed away by the hands of his father’s closest servant. She achieved with ease the effect upon him that the medicae strived for, but their hands always left his back sore and tight.
He hated this. He needed out. She was merely using him to get closer to something she missed and he saw that clearly.
“You’re just like the angel, when I did this to him for the first time.” She giggled, her voice full of warmth. His erratic breathing calmed at the sound of her amusement with his poorly repressed panic. “You’re finally seen, your flaws are on display, and it scares you. You want to run, to be perfect again, but you want just as badly to allow yourself to melt away… To not matter for even just a moment.” She leaned down toward where his head lay and flattened her hand between his shoulders, allowing her nails to scratch gently at his skin in comfort. “so melt, mephiston. I am here with you now.”
“Why are you doing this” He whispered, doing his best to keep his composure against the sensations she brought him. “Why are you pretending you’re not doing this for him.”
“Have I ever told you how beautiful I think you are?” Her voice was full of warmth, admiration, care, something he had heard from no one since the day Calistarius had died and the search parties had given up on searching for him. “And why do you lay here, pretending you don’t enjoy the company? I’m here because I lo-“
“Don’t you dare say that word to me.”
He turned to face her, propping up his tired body on his elbows and allowing deep brown eyes to stare accusingly into hers. He bared his fangs ever so slightly, attempting to intimidate her, but she simply smiled and removed her hand from his back, moving it instead to place her palm upon his cheek, ignoring his snarl and running her thumb along his ivory skin. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, but he held them in incredibly well.
If he truly wanted her silent, he could kill her effortlessly. It would take nothing more than a wave of his hand or a particularly accusing glance. He could boil her blood from the inside, rewrite her vital human functions with surgical precision using his mind alone. He could read her mind, find out exactly what she wanted from him, find out that she saw him as nothing more than a vessel for the angel, uncover her motives to use him.
“I will hurt you... do things angel never did... I am capable of things even he wasn't.” He whispered, his body eerily still save for his breathing. His hearts seemed to calm to a deadly pace, the hidden red within his eyes showing through as his face contorted into something far too empty for her comfort.
"I doubt-"
He grabbed the wrist that held his face and sunk his teeth into her palm. He fought the urge to smile through his own tears at the pained shock across her face. His fangs penetrated her skin like the nails that held a certain old terran messiah to his cross, leaving a wound deep enough that it would not ever heal, and perhaps would paralyze her hand if not treated in time.
The thirst had left him long ago, yet that didn’t stop him from basking in the warmth of the crimson that poured down his throat, some of it made its way down his chin and disappeared into the scarlet sheets beneath the two of them. He looked up at her and bit down harder before releasing his jaw, proud of himself for his reclaim of power over her after she had spent hours taunting him. If she did not hate him before, she had to now.
“Now tell me the truth, and i’ll heal that wound before it renders your hand useless.”
Her face remained blank through the tears pouring down her face as she sobbed and gasped in pain. Still, she placed her trembling, bleeding hand upon his cheek once more. “I love you.” she said as her vision began to fade to black through her pain. “Nothing you do… w-will… Meph…”
Her eyes closed, and her body fell limp against the mattress. He lay still again against the bed as he grabbed her hand and allowed his energy to flow through it, watching intently as her nerves, muscle, and then skin repaired themselves as if his teeth had never made their mark.
His wings manifested upon his back as he draped one over her, allowing its warmth to heat her body and radiate through her own aching limbs.
“Servant of Sanguinius…”
His whispers were near silent against her skin, his words more of a promise to himself than they were speech to her unconscious form.
“Servant of mine… Don’t make me regret this.”
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gemissleeping · 11 months ago
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Angel of Small Death
Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader
Mattheo Riddle x Fem!Reader
Summary: It’s Seventh Year and you’re one of the ones who stayed. Reeling from the loss of your family in the midst of the war, you find a twisted sense of comfort in Mattheo. But your best friend Theo can’t help but feel you’re slipping away from him in more ways than one.
Length: 1.8k
Warnings: Mature. Smut. Angst as with everything I write, not sorry. Deals with addiction to substances. Please dni if this subject is triggering to you. If you need help or resources please dm me. Second instalment from the amazing Hogmarch Challenge by @thatdammchickennugget will have a part two!
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Everyone knew that Slytherin threw the best parties. Hufflepuff was a close second, sure. But nothing quite matched the opulence of a bunch of rich kids throwing their parents money around like it was pennies. Which was why half of Hogwarts was currently packed into the Common Room as water-stained lights rolled across the dance floor.
You wove your way into the gathered students, everyone’s bodies slick with sweat through the haze. You were drunk, but so was everyone. Maybe a little high too, these things couldn’t be helped. Mattheo was oddly generous when you got him rolling. It was exactly what you needed; something that made you feel like a foolish child again. You’d been dancing for the past hour, but now your buzz had reduced itself to a gentle hum. Which meant it was time to find Matt again; sweet talk him into giving you just a little more.
Already familiar with the path, you strayed through the crowd. Handing out distant smiles to some of the other students from your year as you floated past them. Utterly devoid of anything but firewhiskey, sweat, and whatever Mattheo had given you, the bass rattling through the Common Room.
“Back again, Darling?” Mattheo grinned absently as you neared. Sunken into the couch, blown out eyes lilted with thinly-veiled guilt.
It wasn’t his fault, what had happened. You told him so almost every evening, when the two of you would meet to smoke up in the Astronomy Tower. His eyes always heavy with those same questions of whether you blamed him for the actions of his Father. But it didn’t matter how many times you told him it wasn’t his fault, because you knew he didn’t believe it. Besides, it would be a lie if you pretended that you didn’t think of it all every time you met his eyes in a room. It hung between you, always.
Enzo watched you trail over, sinking into the velvet beside Matt. Twirling the stem of his wine glass between his fingers as he glanced nervously to his left. Theo was sat there, his eyes having latched onto you long before you’d exited the crowd and made your way over to the group. But you hadn’t looked at him once, you barely took anything in these days. He could’ve stood before you and you’d have looked right past him.
Distance. It was what made Enzo shuffle uncomfortably in his seat beside Theo now. Swinging his leg over his knee, covering his mouth with a falsely casual hand. Watching the tall, glowering boy beside him.
Theo was still watching you when you leant into Matt’s shoulder. Eyelashes fluttering as your eyes glazed over. Matt resting his head atop yours with equal heaviness. The two of you whispering lazily to one another.
Sometimes your lips would tug into a smile at something he said, but your eyes were never able to catch up in time. The sight made Theo want to shatter the glass he was holding, let it tear at the skin of his hands. Give him a reason to feel this way, as though he were truly bleeding out. His feelings staining his shirt, the carpet.
At least when it came to Matt, he seemed to have some level of restraint. Reserving the substances the two of you shared for weekends, evenings. But Theo had become increasingly aware of how far away you were now becoming, even during the days. Whether it was Matt’s guilt that allowed him to fuel your addictions, he wasn’t certain. All Theo knew was that everything about you had changed, and a part of him wanted to kill Matt for having any role in it at all.
You’d have come to him once. Sat atop his bed and talked for hours. Hands resting beside one another’s but never quite touching. But these days you didn’t seem in much of a mood for thinking, let alone talking. The only thing you were interested in was getting far away from everyone, save for Matt. The two of you were joint at the hip. And although he hated to admit it; Theo knew that he should’ve been more concerned with other things, but that was what hurt him the most.
You were his childhood friend, the one he had swapped sandwiches with. Who he had followed up trees and chased across beaches. Sat through countless invisible tea parties beside. Who he had always, unconditionally, loved. And it had all been forgotten. Traded for nights of stuffing your nose with powder and drowning your insides in liquor.
He didn’t want to even begin to think about whether what you and Matt now shared was strictly amiable. Though he had his suspicions. And every time Enzo looked over at him with resounding pity, Theo got the aching feeling that those inclinations were right.
He tried to tune in to the debate Blaise, Draco & Pansy were having about who could do the best impression of Harry’s parseltongue. The trio bursting into laughter as Pansy hissed in gibberish. But Theo’s ruse didn’t last long. Everyone’s breath going still as Matt stood from the couches, offering his hand out to you. The pair of you slinking through the crowd without so much as a goodbye.
The others awkwardly turned back to their conversations as you disappeared. Although it was clear everyone was feeling the burden, as though they were all walking atop cracked glass. Enzo let out a sigh as he lost sight of Matt’s curly hair up the dormitory stairs. Tired eyes slinking to Theo, who was stuck on the doorway where you and Matt had vanished.
Enzo twirled the stem of his wine glass again before placing it aside, put off. Noticing the way Theo’s fist clenched at the couch’s edge. It didn’t take long for him to make an excuse. Enzo’s eyes trailing after Theo as he made little attempt to hide his path towards where you had disappeared.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝
Matt’s hands trailed the skin beneath the ribbons of fabric covering you. Greedy for more as he sat you atop his desk. Standing before you as he guided your knees apart gently. Eyes not vaguely tempted by your body, focused solely on taking you in; the way your lips parted as his fingertips trailed the inside of your thighs. Testing their limits as they trailed further, higher. As he threaded himself between your legs, pulling you flush against him. Tearing a gasp from both of you as your pretty little eyelashes fluttered. Head falling back as his other hand snaked up the back of your neck to guide his lips to yours once again.
He pushed against you softly, keeping the kiss delicate, careful. His hand trailing down from your neck to the underside of your jaw. The other circling the skin of your waist in intricate patterns. Holding you as though he feared you’d crack. You shuddered into his kiss, lips working against his softly. The antithesis to the fever that was sure to hit you both in a few minutes.
He pulled away an inch as you shook against him, rolling his hips lazily into yours. Satisfied when you let out another breathy gasp at the movement. He loved watching you like this, it seemed to mend something in him. As though if he brought you enough pleasure, it would somehow make up for all of the pain. Matt brought his forehead down to yours, absentmindedly swiping his thumb beneath your nose. Cleansing your skin of the white powder that sullied it.
“I just want to make you feel good again,” Matt breathed, ghosting his lips against yours in a broken whisper, “please say that I do.”
Your eyes blinked open, seeming to clear a little at his words, the rawness in his voice. You looked to the boy before you, saw yourself in the weight of his brow, the heavy set of his jaw. Saw the bruises of fear he carried.
“Matt,” you whispered, fingertips flying to soothe his skin. Draw him back into you and out of his head. “You make me feel better than anything.”
The words had barely left your lips before he crashed himself against you. Commanding fingers grasping at your jaw to make you as accessible to him as possible. Tilting your head back and sucking at your bottom lip with his teeth. His hips rolling against yours with calculated speed. Pressing himself flush against you as your skirt hiked up.
The sensation made you squirm, just as he knew it would. The hand he had situated on your hip clamping down firmly as he drew you back towards him. Leaving you no room to get away. Relishing in the way you lost all composure as he pressed himself against you again and again. It didn’t take long for him to make quick work of your underwear, or for your hands to find the buckle of his belt.
You were soaked by the time he pushed himself into you. Holding you tight to him as you cried out into his mouth. His hands already gently threaded into your hair with familiarity. Keeping you from falling back into the wall as he began to thrust into you. The gentle roll of his hips escalating as the powder hit your systems. His movements growing rougher as his control unravelled.
You buried yourself in his shoulder as he pushed himself deeper, the sensations becoming too much as you felt yourself losing your grip. His lips lazing against your cheek, trailing the skin with each thrust.
“You’re so good to me,” he breathed harshly into your ear, drawing you closer to the edge of the desk as he drew himself into you again and again. His hand tangled in your hair gently, comforting you as you reached your high with blistering intensity. “I’m sorry,” the words left him in a strained whisper as he continued his pace, offering you little relief as you felt yourself building up again.
But you knew his apology had nothing to do with his pace, the rough snap of his hips against yours. They only ever came when you were together in this way; completely at the mercy of the other. It was the only time he could let his guilt spill into you and know you would answer him truthfully. Your head too empty, body too spent to lie.
“I know,” you choked the words out as you shook again, your hands tangling in his hair as you felt him stuttering against you, “me too.”
Theodore shut the door quietly with a click, letting his back rest against it as he faced the empty corridor outside the dorm. A tightly wound breath leaving his chest in a huff as his bleak gaze permeated the wall in front of him. The sound of your heavy breath and moans barely audible beneath the door.
Theo sat, eyes drawn shut as he tried to wipe the image of you intertwined with his friend from his mind. Feeling flustered for having caught you both in such an intimate moment, and guilty that he wished it was him.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝
Masterlist here
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thesummerpetrichor · 6 months ago
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𝓖𝓸𝓭’𝓼 𝓰𝓸𝓷𝓷𝓪 𝓬𝓾𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓸𝔀𝓷
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Dark!Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader
Summary: What you assumed would be a routine sale to a regular customer turns into a drug deal gone wrong when you realise it's not her, but her uncle, that has showed up to bury the hatchet
Warnings: 18+ only minors DNI you will be blocked. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT DDDNE, NONCON/R*PE, mentions of DEA, age gap [reader is in her early 20s Javi is in his 40s], reader sells drugs, reader wears a skirt, rough sex, semi public sex, knife and threats with blades, reader is actively experiencing Stockholm syndrome, degradation, dumbification, humiliation, victim blaming and punishment [he is teaching her a lesson], size difference [Javi is bigger than reader and can lift her], using panties as a gag, crying, very mean!Javi, domineering!Javi, slight praise, petnames, choking, creampie, unprotected P in V [don't do it!!] this is much darker than my other work. I may not have included something that could potentially trigger you, so please proceed with caution. I am not responsible for your media consumption.
Word count: 3.8k
A/N: Surprise dark Javi Peña for you lovelies. Please heed the warnings, this may not be for you, it gets pretty dark. If it isn't, scroll past. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Big thanks to @toxicanonymity for brainstorming with me about this like a year ago (when it was meant to be about Joel) lmao! I finally finished it!! Anyway, I hope you enjoy!! Mwah!!
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You can run on for a long time
Run on for a long time
Run on for a long time
Sooner or later God'll cut you down
Sooner or later God'll cut you down
Go tell that long tongue liar
Go and tell that midnight rider
Tell the rambler, the gambler, the back biter
Tell 'em that God's gonna cut 'em down
Tell 'em that God's gonna cut 'em down
What you did was a little side job, a way to make a quick buck after long school hours had tired you out beyond measure. Frankly, that was all you had to say about it. 
Business in the wealthy part of town was far from rough- kids in picket fence houses were your prime demographic, after all. They had the time, and they sure as hell had the money. If you weren’t going to supply it, someone else would. Of course, if their parents got a whiff of how their children scrambled to you like a pack of dogs you wouldn’t hear the last of it. 
It's not like anyone would have suspected anything to begin with– not from the neighbourhood’s golden child. But you had to thank your parents for that reputation. No one would expect something like that from a sweet thing like Sarah either- which is why you were surprised when she rang you up on your second phone shortly after her 18th birthday. 
It had been a couple of months since she’d been coming to you– before parties and such. You didn't ask many questions. She was only a senior, but who were you to play moral policeman? You were barely two years ahead. 
Besides, she wasn’t really a resident of your neighbourhood– just came to hang at her uncle’s every weekend. 
It probably felt a lot more dirty considering you knew him quite well. Well, knew was a strong word. Your parents were acquaintances and he’d helped fix the fence of your house a few years prior. You’d see him every now and then and even tried the batch of cookies Sarah had roped him into baking and sent over. 
He’d often see you around and ask about college and the like. He had quite a good impression of you and you just couldn’t stomach telling him you sold his niece drugs on the weekend. Especially because, when he wasn’t getting roped into baking cookies, in his day to day life, Javi P was your neighbourhood’s most beloved narc. 
You wondered how Sarah didn't let the fact that her uncle was the head of the DEA and its most notorious, cartel busting agent, deter her from calling upon your services. You couldn't deny, you felt quite bad. You usually wouldn't. His job be damned, something felt a little dirty about lying to a sweet, kind man like Javier. 
But that was not your problem. 
Everytime Sara showed up no qualms- with the money, and her backpack, in the exact location you instructed her to. 
Spring came and went. So did summer. And before you knew it she had become a regular. 
Which is why you weren’t irked at all when on a drizzly autumn Friday Sara had asked to meet you around 5pm in your usual spot– near the fence behind the Willson’s orchids– in between those brutalist brick sheds you’d sneak off to with boys you liked. 
She was punctual, in fact she was always there a good ten minutes before you showed up just to be sure– which is why you continued forward when you caught a shadow and a rustle of the leaves emerge from the shed’s side. 
You brushed a stay raindrop from the side of your cheek as you looked up at the grey, drab sky. Thank god for the leaves– they painted the brown of the path and all that stood in your way fiery reds, yellows and oranges. 
As you approached you heard the wet ground crinkle under your feet– the leaves and the mud swallowing your shoes with every step forward. You felt them stick to the soles, and you made a mental note to leave Sarah as quickly as possible as to not be late to family dinner. There was no way you could walk fast- or even briskly, considering the state of the ground. 
When you neared the shed and rounded the corner however, you noticed Sarah's shadow seemed to have caught the light a different way– looking a lot taller, a lot more elongated under the last of the autumn sun before the clouds completely eclipsed it. 
She looked a lot taller, a lot more imposing, with broader shoulders and a cut jaw, with short, curly, dishevelled hair. A crack of thunder sounded in the distance. At a moment you knew that shadow, and you scrambled back on your feet to get up and out the Wilson’s orchid. 
But the mud in the ground was damp from the rain, and your shoes were stuck to it like toffee, and before you could realise it was pouring rain. You stumbled on the garden rake that had been leant against the shed. 
A voice called your name from behind it.  
You might as well have thrown up seeing simple, warm eyed, cookie baking Javier Peña leaning up against the wall instead of his niece – looking neither simple nor warm eyed, and sporting the scent of a hard day’s work out on the field rather than the scent of baked goods. 
You desperately tried to suppress the lump in your throat as he came into full view. His white button up shirt was damp from the water the trees had been steadily dripping onto it, his hair dishevelled, curls haphazardly sticking to his forehead. Another crack of thunder sounded, closer this time, and you felt your sweater become all the more wet every passing second. 
For a moment you contemplated playing coy, but you knew that he knew exactly what you were doing there. If he had a problem with his niece ’s purchasing habits he ought to take it up with her, you were merely supplying a demand. And that was exactly what you told him– albeit a lot less courageously than you would have liked. You could barely recognise your own voice- monotonous and flat, but importantly shaky and scared. 
And he noticed. 
He scoffed, shaking his head and giving you a slow once over– in your tattered socks and sneakers. “Disturbing the peace of this neighbourhood, corrupting the kids with your behaviour. You’re ruining it.” 
“I-” a leaf drifted through the wind and landed on your wet hand, cutting you off as you squeaked, dusting it off yourself. 
He stepped to the side, then took another menacing step in front of you. By the time he’d met you chest to chest you were backed up against the wall without realising it– unable to escape, trapped. He smiled at you- tight, and sickly sweet. He reached for the damp hem of your skirt. You felt your skin crawl under his touch. 
“Goddamn. To think I thought ya were a good one” he shook his head, a humourless laugh ringing in your ears. “Should’ve known…” You shivered when he lifted his hand to your cheek, stroking your face with his thumb and a false sense of gentleness. 
“Those whorey little skirts- tight lil tops” the lump in your throat grew as he continued, mind blank and racing simultaneously. It was nothing short of appalling. His words were harsh and cruel. His hands dropped to the waistband of your skirt, fingers slipping in to curl it. He didn't care that you recoiled at the touch, and attempted to shake off his prying gestures. He laughed again. “‘S the only way remembered ya played tennis” 
You swallowed the lump in your throat, watching horrified as he grabbed your shoulders and shoved you backwards. Your back hit the shed once again, more violently than the time before thanks to his push, his voice had picked up that aggressive tone that had simmered down since he first started talking once again, and you felt your heart jump at the change. 
“Y’a poor dad thought I was so invested in your lil family…”  his fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin, toying with your sweater to expose your soft flesh to the harsh cold of the autumn rain. Each swipe of them leaving a trail of fire behind. 
You didn't dare meet his eyes, nauseous at the very thought. You caught a bolt of lightning strike behind his back, the grey sky complimenting the tone of the entire situation. The fingers that had been drawing shapes on your hip had slid up your chest to find home around the column of your throat, and as they squeezed– gently but threateningly, you felt your legs finally begin to give way under you.  “Shame ya ain’t a good girl huh..” 
“Real fuckin shame.” he shook you lightly, and your hands flew to grip his wrist. Unsurprisingly, your efforts were to no avail. His hand maintained the unrelenting grip on your throat, his eyes trained on yours like a predator. You screwed your own shut, unwilling to meet the fury in his. 
The sound of the swish of a blade barely registered in your head. Before you could look down to catch a glimpse of the utility knife Javi had clicked into place, it was being pressed gently against your jugular. “To think ya had the nerve baby…” 
The blade grazed your skin, a hair away from piercing your skin and slicing it open. “Couldn’t even keep yourself away from the girl with a DEA agent for an uncle?” The tear that streaked its way down your cheek almost burned a hole in your skin. Followed by what seemed like a thousand more, your watery eyes set you a harsh reminder of the mess you’d fallen into. And yet you couldn’t seem to muster up the courage to actually respond to him. 
Javier seemed to like those tears though. “Oh baby, babygirl…” the hand that wasn't holding the blade against your skin came to gently cup your cheek. “Shhh, shhh, my babydoll.” With his thumb Javi wiped the tracks off your face, leaning down and kissing the dampness lightly on each side. The touch of his lips made you wince.  “Don't wanna cause a ruckus..” That sweetness of his voice made you shiver, made your chin wobble. 
“Please, Mr-” 
You yelped, feeling that blade press just a little harder against your neck, then drag itself to lift up the hem of your sweater and move under to shift between your breasts. “I said shut that whore mouth.” There it was, that harsh, cruel tone once again. You felt the blade drag up and down your skin, then hook at the collar of your warm sweater to slice through that cable knit pattern you so loved. 
The sound of the wool fraying and splitting apart rang in your ears, distracting you momentarily as Javi bunched up the fabric of your skirt, grabbing you by the thighs and hoisting you up against the rough wall of the shed. You had no choice but to wrap your legs around his waist to keep yourself stable, and away from the knife that was so close to your throat. 
The rain thundered and came down against you, its sounds drawing out your weeping and whimpering. A sheet of mist and water engulfed the both of you in a horrid blanket of union. You felt Javier’s hard length press against your clothed core and you shivered. Despite it all you felt your panties dampen at the contact. 
He chuckled against your skin, knowingly, mockingly, and slid his fingers between you to rub your now wet cunt through your panties. “Cant even help yourself can you?” you felt the arousal pool in your panties, but shook your head nonetheless. Your eyes rolled back at the feel of his fingertips drawing slow circles on your clit. “Look at that, sluts gettin’ all wet and achy, huh?” 
The thunder and lightning only picked up pace as his calloused fingers pulled your panties aside roughly, fingertips grazing your swollen, sensitive flesh. “Fuck, such a pretty pussy” The elastic of your waistband tugged against your soft skin, rubbing against you– leaving you sore, tender. You were dripping, and the feeling made you turn your head away from Javier in disgust. 
He notched his tip at your drooling entrance and you whined, wiggling your hips to shake off the desire that stirred in your tummy. “Don’t ya worry baby, gonna take care of this tight little snatch.” You shook your head no, and he only responded with a laugh. 
In a sharp, single thrust you felt his throbbing, hard length stretch you open. There was no mercy, no grace period, just a snap of his hips towards yours and his cock parting your insides in that cruel, uncaring manner. “Y’a gonna shut your ass up take what I give to ya because it looks like you’ve got no choice.” 
“Excited for family dinner? Gonna be a lot more fun when you’ve got my cum leaking out of ya.” The length of him stretched you open, no time to adjust with his sharp, quick thrusts. The pain came in sharp just the same way, made you wince and squirm at the burn. 
You had never felt so full, every sensitive spot inside you being nudged just the right way by his cock. He continued to thrust inside your wet heat, fast and deep. A tightness began to build in your tummy. 
His thumb brushed your lip and the urge to part your lips to take it into your mouth for a sense of comfort overtook you. Had you not been as frozen as you were, you would have acted on it. But that thumb pressed itself against your lips, a silent order to hush yourself as Javi’s thrusts became all the more gruelling, faster, harder, harsher. 
“Ya’ might be an adult- but y’a sure as hell act like a dumb little girl” The drag of his cock against your throbbing walls had an unwelcome moan tumbling from your lips–the pleasure more horrifying than the pain. His words had your stomach flip flopping. 
His fingers wrapped firmly around your throat, palm placing enough pressure against your skin to stutter your breathing. “Listen baby, I know words are really fuckin hard… they’re so big, and confusing. Too much for your pretty little head.” He heard you heave a loud, stuttery breath, but left his hand where it was for a few more agonising seconds. “So I had’ta’ tell you a way ya understand” 
You felt the blade that had momentarily lost contact with your flesh drag slowly against your waist and under your skirt. Yet again the sound of fabric ripping rang in your ears, the elastic of your panties snapping against your hips only marginally less painful than the feel of Javier's thick cock splitting you open. When you turned your head to catch Javier’s gaze, his own eyes were inspecting the tattered white cotton that had once had a place on your hips between his fingers. 
“Goddamn. Pretty even underneath it all? Expected something more…” He laughed maliciously, then turned his head like he was searching for the right words. “Slutty…..? whorish?” His relentless thrusts didn’t cease. “But goddamn, like keepin’ it holy dont ya?” His hips snapped towards yours again, and he groaned in pleasure. “You ain't foolin’ me.” 
“No-” you were promptly cut off, face unable to dodge his hand. Javier rolled his eyes, annoyed by how animated you were being– too much for his liking. He forced the fabric into your mouth, and you had no choice to let him.
“Goddamn, that college degree don't count for much huh? That oughta shut you up, bitch.” Soon enough, and to your horror the wetness between your legs began to spread, each movement of his prompting more sounds of pleasure than pain to embarrassingly get muffled against the fabric of your own panties. 
The way his brow furrowed, the vein on the side of his neck bulged from the strain, from how good you felt around him, from the way your pussy was milking his cock, it was all a lot more appealing of a sight than you were willing to acknowledge at the moment. “Fuck, should try whoring out this pussy for some extra cash too.” 
“Next time ya wanna make a buck, walk that pretty little ass down the block” Splinters from the wooden shed wall grazed your skin, poking through the cable knit ever so slightly, an uncomfortable little pinch that palled in comparison to the delicious stretch of his cock splitting you open. 
“Would be nice. Won’t have to drive on down to the whore house.” His cock thrust achingly out of your wet heat, building a tension inside you so strong it set your skin on fire. “Would fuck this pretty little cunt in my bed.” Your hips felt heavy, the spot between your thighs tense, aching with a desperate need to feel a release that had unwillingly been building inside you. 
“Fuck ya till you’re a mess.” He growled in your ear, lips ghosting your skin. “That’d be nice, huh? Might let ya scream that time..” The image of Javier shoving you on his bed and taking care of you flashed in your mind– perhaps a soft, gentle, deep lovemaking that you were horrified to find appealing at the moment. 
At some point the expanse of his chest became a security, his broad, looming shoulders a sickening comfort. “Look at you- fuckin liking it. Tight little snatch squeezin’ my cock.” If perhaps that gentleness had come to you some other way you would’ve died for it, but now you were crooning for it, silently begging for it, for some respite, for a sick sort of comfort that gave you butterflies. 
What you had thought to be the unbelievable, the merciful, law abiding, law enforcing protector of the innocent and the weak, was ripping you apart piece by piece, watching you crumble around his cock, your eyes roll back with that pleasure you couldn’t ignore, your hands reach for him because you pined for the gentleness he had given you a taste off.
Your sweater caught the wood of the shed, you were sure it was full of holes at that point, the knit pattern ruined forever, something to remind you of the way your pussy quivered around his cock. “Look at that… fuck… bein’ a good girl now arent ya? Learning how to behave.” The obscene sound of your wetness, the squelch of his cock pumping in and out your swollen, abused cunt had you cringing, had your heart pounding desperately against your chest. “Never too late to change your ways.. Feels so good you can't help yourself huh? Just wanna cum..” He closed the blade that he had previously had a close grip on and shoved it into his pocket. 
Your mouth loosened around the damp fabric of your panties, pleasure shooting up your spine and making your toes curl. “That's it, learnin’ well now, aren't we?” You felt hot and cold simultaneously– a chill of terror so strong you began to sweat. He pulled your hips against his, chuckling at your desperate squirming in an attempt to put off your release. 
Javier caught your face between his thumb and forefinger, squeezing your cheeks and relishing in the sight of you drooling around your panties. Showing some mercy, he pulled the fabric from between your lips, tossing it onto the dirty ground. “Wonder why a slut like you would even bother with these?” He chuckled in your ear, then pressed a sloppy kiss against your neck. 
His tip brushed that sweet spot inside you, made you tighten your thighs around his waist. “Feel so fucking good.” You felt your chest burn, your pussy bare down on his cock. The tension inside you finally snapped, a ragged moan escaping from your throat and slipping past your lips. You felt yourself gush and quiver around his cock, whole body on fire with the intensity of your release.  
“That's a good girl– fuck” His voice was strained and low, a gravely sound dripping like honey from his lips as he neared his release. The praise made your heart flutter. With a few final, sloppy thrusts Javier’s hips stilled, his cock twitching and throbbing inside you– painting your still fluttering walls with his spend. 
You felt your pussy clench around nothing when he pulled out. 
He pressed his head on the shed wall beside your cheek, catching his breath. The smell of cigarettes off his hair finally registering in your mind– something you were perhaps too preoccupied to notice prior. Another stray tear slid down your cheek, along with an ice cold raindrop that fell from the sky. 
Javier’s hand reached for your face and you flinched. He stroked your face and took it in with his eyes once again. You dared to meet his cold, unwavering gaze– so detached you wondered if he even registered life in anyone else's. Their browns drew you in despite this, and called you to make a home in them. 
He sighed, dropping your thighs from his hold and pressing you against the shed with his body.You felt his spend leak out of you and drip onto your thighs obscenely. Your hands flew to grip his shirt to maintain your balance, but Javier was quick to step back. 
Your knees shook violently as he finally retreated from the side of the shed. The damp soil and crackly leaves clung to your wet thighs as gravity forced you to the dirty ground. Instinctively you pressed your back against the shed, bracing yourself for another one of Agent Peña’s cruel jabs. You caught a glimpse of your white panties– dirty, torn and unusable, discarded on the ground. 
Worse however, you watched him fix his shirt and jeans as you trembled and caught your breath, paying you no mind whatsoever. With his body no longer shielding you from the rain you felt the gentle thud of the raindrops against your cold skin, drenching you even more than before. 
When you sank your fingers into the mud to find your bearings you felt a tickle on the inside of your ring finger. You looked down momentarily to catch a stay earthworm wriggle out from beside your hand and attempt to scurry away. 
You yelped, bringing your hand to your chest, and tucking your knees further into your front– too exhausted to pick yourself up off the ground. 
Javier's soft snicker rang in your ears like a merciless, menacing bell. When you finally looked back at him it felt even more dirty than the first time. His face scrunched in displeasure at the sight of you huddled on the ground, your clothes and overall appearance dishevelled. “Got fuckin lucky today, dirty bitch.” His words made you shiver. 
He stalked over to your hunched form once again, towering over you. His shadow covered your entire body in its shade as the evening sun peaked out from under the clouds, the final drops of the shower cascading down the sloped roof of the shed and onto your damp shoulders. 
“I better not see ya around Sarah again.” 
Well you may throw your rock and hide your hand
Workin' in the dark against your fellow man
But as sure as God made black and white
What's down in the dark will be brought to the light
You can run on for a long time
Run on for a long time
Run on for a long time
Sooner or later God'll cut you down
Sooner or later God'll cut you down
You can run on for a long time
Run on for a long time
Run on for a long time
Sooner or later God'll cut you down
Sooner or later God'll cut you down
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This one was much on the darker side, but I hope you enjoyed! Thank you to everyone who reblogs and engages with my work- you keep me writing!! 💗🐝
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It's quite important to me that Jason and Bruce's conflict is not a misunderstanding.
I truly believe that if each of them had perfect omniscient knowledge of every detail of what happened surrounding Jason's death, not only would they still have conflict, but they would still have the SAME conflict. Neither the question nor the answer of Under the Red Hood's climax would change.
Sheila's betrayal is often known about in canon (frankly there is no way anyone but Jason should know; it is deeply unclear to me why comics allow others to be aware of this) and it does nothing to change anything.
Bruce's one off attempt to kill the Joker at most changes a few lines during Jason's plea to let him kill him ("Please! I know you wanted to, I know you tried to once, what changed? Did you forget about me? Did you stop caring? Did you fucking well forgive?! You for whom vengeance is your only life?")
Learning about the people Jason saved doesn't do much to assuage Bruce's horror at what Jason has become ("Each life is precious, unique, irreplaceable. It does not absolve him.")
Learning exactly what was done to mourn him modifies the depth and force of Jason's fury some ("You buried and destroyed all trace of me, the actual person, didn't even try to tell Dick, and then blamed my death on my own irresponsibility?!") But otherwise does very little.
Talia's involvement being revealed does nothing, because frankly she didn't do much of anything except stall this confrontation and give him a knife. It's a really cool knife, granted, but it sure as fuck didn't convince Jason this needed to happen!
The exact details of Tim's induction into the role have the largest effect - on an issue that is utterly tertiary to his main conflict with Bruce ("Oh wow, cool, great, the new kid you got to emotionally support you actually volunteered, and has parents so his entire well-being doesn't hinge on your approval. Congrats on approaching the bare fucking minimum! Now, wouldn't you agree that you have a duty to protect him by taking care of the murderer who killed me?! Instead of fucking demanding that he be good enough not to get killed?!")
I have a whole damn post on the can of worms Jason understanding the events of War Games would open! ("YOU LET ANOTHER ONE OF US DIE WHILE I WAS GONE?!?")
I am convinced that the only ways in which their conflict becomes less intense is through a misunderstanding.
And I like it that way. I'm really, really glad it's not a misunderstanding, and that it can't be resolved through better communication. Their issues are real and meaningful and cannot be swept away without one actually conceding to the other's demands.
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clappingandcheering · 22 days ago
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(Percy Jackson x reader)
Shiny like the ocean
Warnings: None! Super cute story about you and Percy wanting to be parents and then becoming parents. Lmk if you want another part with the baby making, but I'm like a fresh writer, so I didn't want that to be my first impression!
"You know," Percy began, his voice casual but with that unmistakable gleam in his eyes. "I've been thinking."
You glanced up from the book you were reading, raising an eyebrow. "Oh? This should be good," you teased, half-smiling, knowing full well that when Percy Jackson got that look, you were in for something unexpected.
Percy's grin widened, clearly pleased with your response. "What do you think about having a kid?"
Your heart skipped a beat, and you suddenly found your fingers twirling absentmindedly around the edge of the book. "A kid?" you echoed, trying to sound nonchalant, but the truth was, you weren't sure how to respond. You'd always imagined this kind of conversation would come up eventually—but now that it had, it felt like your words were stuck somewhere deep inside.
Percy, sensing your hesitation, leant forward on the couch, his voice softening. "I know we’ve talked about it before, but... I just really think we’d be great parents." He was already smiling that goofy, hopeful grin, the one you couldn’t resist even if you tried. "We’d make an awesome team, you know?"
You could feel the heat creeping up to your cheeks as you looked anywhere but at him. The idea of having a child, a little one to take care of, to love... It was terrifying and exciting all at once. You weren’t sure if you were ready for that kind of responsibility, but Percy was always so sure about things, and it made you want to believe it too.
“I mean, I guess we could..." you mumbled, your voice small and shy. “It’s just… I don’t know.”
Percy raised an eyebrow, teasing. “What, you scared of a little diaper duty?”
You snorted despite yourself. “You’d be the one doing all the work, huh?”
“Maybe,” he said with a wink. “But honestly, I think we could do it. And if we mess up, we’ll just blame it on the gods.”
You chuckled, shaking your head. “Always the Greek way.”
Percy laughed, and before you could think of a more serious response, he leant over and kissed you on the cheek. “No pressure. Just something to think about.”
But as he pulled away, there was a sincerity in his eyes that made your heart swell. You weren’t quite sure what to think yet, but when it came to Percy Jackson, sometimes the best things in life came when you least expected them.
Three years later...
You woke to the soft sound of giggles echoing down the hallway. A small hand tugged at your arm, pulling you out of your sleepy haze.
"Mum! Dad’s making pancakes again!" the little voice squealed.
You blinked, your mind struggling to fully wake up, but when you opened your eyes, you saw the tiny form of your son standing at the foot of your bed, his curly hair sticking out in all directions like a cute little mess. He was wearing his favourite Captain America pyjama shirt, the one Percy had picked out for him because it "matched his heroic spirit." The little boy grinned at you, his eyes wide and full of excitement.
"Did you sleep okay, buddy?" You asked, sitting up, your heart warming at the sight of him.
"Yeah!" he said, bouncing on his heels. "Dad said we’re having chocolate chips in the pancakes today. And we’re going to the park afterwards! Can we go, Mum? Can we?"
You smiled sleepily, brushing your hair out of your face. The house was quiet except for the soft noises of Percy in the kitchen and the sound of laughter spilling out from there.
“Give me a second, okay?” You said, ruffling your son’s messy curls. "I’ll be right down."
As your son hurried off to the kitchen, you let yourself take a moment. You could hear Percy’s voice, light and cheerful, as he worked at the stove. The warmth of the moment settled over you—this was your family now. The little boy who had come into your life and changed everything, who was both a reminder of the love you and Percy shared and a miracle of your own making.
You felt a soft tug in your chest. It was hard to remember what life was like before him, before you’d taken that leap, before you and Percy had gone from shy, unsure newlyweds to confident, exhausted—but incredibly happy—parents.
Downstairs, Percy was flipping pancakes with the same easy confidence he'd had all those years ago. The three of you—together, imperfectly perfect—sounded like a family now.
As you made your way into the kitchen, your son immediately ran over to you, his arms wide. “Mum! Look!” He showed you his tiny pile of pancakes, adorned with a mountain of chocolate chips.
“You made all of that?” You asked, pretending to be impressed, though you knew who had done the bulk of the work.
Percy chuckled, tossing his flour-covered spatula into the sink. “Teamwork,” he said, winking at you. “He’s getting good at this.”
You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of your two favourite people, your hearts full. "I think he’s going to give you a run for your money in the kitchen soon."
“Good,” Percy said, scooping your son up and tossing him into the air, earning a burst of delighted laughter. "We’ll need all the help we can get."
And just like that, your heart melted. This little family of yours—it wasn’t perfect, but it was everything you’d ever wanted.
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moonsaver · 1 year ago
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Sumeru roses, House of Daena, Sticky notes.
-------
Being an asisstant for the scribe isn't so bad. Just ignore the persistent overtimes, the scent of your perfume everywhere, and the new ink bottles that keep running out on his desk. You didn't anticipate red being his favorite ink to work with.
A/n: more than 2.5k words. I didnt bother counting. I hsed google translate for arabic whoops sorry not sorry <3 also its been a while since i wrote.
Warnings/tags: reader is g/n, yandere Alhaitham, Alhaitham x reader, stalking, paranoia, obsessive themes, very very subtle mentions of blood (if you squint), kind of drawn out? Horrible arabic google translate quote. Probably OOC but you can ignore that
------
You admit, being an asisstant isn't so bad.
Of course, at first when you broke the announcement to your parents you wanted to further your studies at the Akademiya, your parents werent approving. They wanted you to get a cushy job and earn as soon as possible; you don't blame them. Having that life sounds peaceful, however, you think delaying it a bit won't hurt. You haven't had the proper chance to really scour the library at your own leisure, at least, not as a student.
So, while job-hunting, (which was wonderfully disrupted by the huge Archon-Overthrow-play-god plan for a good few weeks,) you got an offer as the Asisstant of the Grand Sage; which was suspicious from how good of a title it was. The Akademiya was desperate to get back on it's feet, and who were you to deny the offer?
Of course, it didn't quite occur to you until the first day of your job you'd be working alongside Alhaitham, the scribe of the Akademiya (and perhaps his infamous title as the one who curated a plan to foil Azar's shenanigans).
Which was fine. He was generally alright,if not great to work with. Straightforward, clear, brief, analytical and most of all – he wasn't pushy. Which was a relief, of course. You managed to make small talk from time to time (if you could really call it that,) and came to a consensus with him on many things, mostly that both of you were not pleased with overtime. The moment the clock hit 5:00 PM, both of you were out of your offices and posts. You were mutually respectful, and generally tolerated each other well.
Of course, things at your job got shaken up when your schedule was thrown off balance. Your favorite drink always ran out, your mornings were crowded and somehow you started showing up later than usual, which meant you went home later aswell (much to your dismay).
Another strange series of events started taking place, if you could even call it that. You swear you haven't been watering the plants in front of your home, and the soil is dry enough, so how are they so.. vibrant? And recently, you swear one of the plants is growing a little too much, basically covering one of the windows, threatening to break it. Sticky notes scattered around the front of your house which you originally thought of as littering from those raucous kids your neighbours can't keep in control – you only realised they were for you when you caught a glimpse of your name on it, and you can only agree with the suspicious look on your friends’ faces when you show them the notes – bright Canary yellow and the striking red colour across the notes (although, you've only shown them the more milder ones. You can't imagine the panic you'll be forced to acknowledge if they see some of the other.. strange ones.)
And you suppose your paranoia has caught up to you. Your sleep-deprived mind swears that new red coloured bottle of ink on Alhaitham's desk wasn't there. You swear he never used that bright Canary Yellow colour of post-its. Did he really like that drink he always seemed to get for both of you? It conveniently ran out when you wanted it, and even more so, he conveniently just brought an extra since it was on discount? Of course it all just seems like a coincidence. You're a fool to even think otherwise.
And well, you're fine. Your life has always been a long series of fine, even with the occasional weird mishaps. That's how it's always been, and you don't intend to change it; rather, you really do find change almost repulsive (save for the panic you felt deep down in your stomach at all the things you couldn't control). And that “fine” comes to a halt when you find your door absolutely mauled with sticky notes. There's a bouquet of Sumeru Roses at the bottom, as if to try and apologise sheepishly for the terrifying collage on your door. The terrifying numbness in your fingers, face, your brows furrowed as you can't decide just how to react, the elevated heartbeat – you swear you can feel the blood threaten to burst through your chest. 
You opted to stay with a friend that night. You don't know what you were expecting when you came back in the morning, and all of those notes were gone, except a singular one in the middle, “الهوس والحب مترادفان، لكنهما لا يقارنان بارتباط روحي بروحك” (which you had to reread almost 30 times with your broken arabic, checked with someone from the Haravatat Darshan, to really confirm – obsession and love are synonyms, but they are nothing compared to the connection of my soul to yours – is what it said, and it's echoed in your head for weeks). You can't remember the last time you wore your rose perfume after that.
Scouring in the House Of Daena didn't seem to alleviate your troubles that well, either. The books you read one day, and opted to continue the next – vanished. Someone else always had the upper hand. And when they returned, they were scribbled and annotated with many pockets of information. Sometimes they overshadow the information on the page itself. And on the rare occasion you put your head on the books as a makeshift pillow for a power nap, you jolted up from just a sniff. Sumeru roses hit your nose.
And of course, when you find notes with all different handwritings on your desk in the office, you think someone's playing a cruel prank on you. But your office was locked. No one saw anyone enter your office. You did your usual check up before you locked it last night, and assorted everything in place. None of these notes were here. And of course, your only clue is the fact they're all Canary Yellow post-its, and that striking scarlet red ink on it. Hasn't the bottle on Alhaitham's desk been running out? He mentioned it off-handedly. You remember saying blue ink was cheaper. He didn't respond.
overtime was disdainful, for the lack of a better word. However, that implies only to the masses – it is no problem for him to come up with better synonyms to describe the situation at hand. “Distasteful”, “loathsome”, “detestable”, and so on. However, complaining will not solve the stacks of files on his desk that he wishes to do away with as soon as possible.
If anything pleases him more than his usual combination of abstruse books, isolation from the general public, and extreme individuality, it is that as the Grand Sage's assistant – you are expected to stay back for the extended hours as much as he is, if not more. For once, working overtime (or being forced to) has brought him progress. Will a few more hours of scribbling away and reviewing files change anything huge? He will return to his post again tomorrow as he has today, and the work will continue. Although, this time, it is you who stays working overtime. So for once, if it manages to quiet down the poking and prodding of other nosy scholars, reprimanding him for never working even a minute after the allocated time, he does so for the exchange of working with you.
And he doesn't intend to burden you, but he knows the desperation you work with, trying your best to cram in any minute, second into trying to get ahold of those books at the House Of Daena. So, if at least to make you stay for longer, he assigns you the more dragged out, tedious work. And to make it better – you just got locked out of your office. He has an extra pair, which he diligently uses for his own interest. As for you; perhaps being so frantic and scrambling to gather all books you might have read the day before may have caused you to drop your keys somewhere along the way. Would he know? Of course – he's diligently collected and added it to his inventory. Would he tell you? It would be like stepping on his own tail. The lack of certainty in a schedule makes for more freedom – he thinks. It's for your own good; he almost says. And to have you work in the same proximity as him? It's a bonus. 
Many consider him to be talented and extraordinarily intelligent, so just take his advice as literally as you can. Or maybe he just needs to tell you directly while making small talk between you two more frequent. To his dismay (and your absolute horror), the sticky notes seem to be working counterproductively. Perhaps he should just show up at your house with a bouquet of Sumeru roses and a small journal filled with his advice? He jests, it's only an entertaining idea. The bewildered look on your face makes him adore you – even if only imaginative.
The lift stops at the top floor. He sees your figure standing beside his desk, an expanse of books behind you. The sharp yellow lights contrast your figure to the dim blue light sphere in the middle. He feels the corners of his mouth perk up into a smile,and stops himself.
Another overtime shift for the both of you.
Overtime was not easy. You wouldn't have minded it – the job pays you well, and its quite comfortably tucked into the Akademiya, where no one bothers you, and you can easily access the House of Daena. However, the stress and paranoia has absolutely drained you. 
You've visited the matra recently. Frantically scraping together whatever evidence you can, everytime your “admirer” decided to gift you something new, leaving almost no time in your schedule. Daily visits to the library turned into constant visits to the matra, detailing your issues. You would have opted to stay silent, brushing it off as someone who was.. weirdly shy. But shy people don't stalk you, shy people don't leave obsessive notes for you, shy people don't visit your house at unholy hours of the night. And who knows what else this stalker of yours has been up to recently?
Revenge bedtime procrastination turned into sleepless nights, flinching at every sound, hiding under the covers until there was no oxygen and your entire face was covered in sweat. Workload seemed to increase, from how often you kept messing up, many things clouding your mind. Alhaitham's prickly eyes took notice, and he suggested drinking another beverage aside from coffee in the morning, and offered to get you something else – which you generously refused and turned down. (the last thing you would want to be is in someone else's debt at this time. Even if it's just a drink, who knows what else it could add up to in the future?)
So, here you were; irritated, on edge and in the dimly lit office which was viciously devoid of any natural light. You wonder why someone would want such a stuffy office, with books probably growing mold inside. Sure, it's spacious, but it's utter lack of life in it repulses you. It has the comfort level of a hospital waiting room, and it's just enough to add onto the little things that bother you, on top of everything else.
If that wasn't any better – Alhaitham seemed particularly chatty this evening. Perhaps his parasitic roommate (whom he has lovingly mentioned, multiple times,) has been ignoring him as of late? Maybe a commission in the desert, or a commission that requires a huge amount of unnecessary labour? And the (Acting) Grand Scribe has mentioned several times how the blonde architect works himself almost half to death just to get a smile out of his customers. You painstakingly understand him in silence, and don't comment on it.
The rest of the night continues – the benignity of it isn't lost on you. Occasionally perking up from your own scribbling upon Alhaitham's call, searching for a specific book on the vast (dusty, if you may add) shelves, and commenting on a few meeting topics and research projects he grazes, assigning you a few. He doesn't miss the comical dragging of your feet as you walk back over to your desk, befuddled with more work. He wants to tease you, he wants you to ask him for help, for an extra bottle of ink, for an extra post it note, whatever way in which you ask for his help.
He theorises you don't remember much of your and his student days.
“shit, I forgot them.”
You searched the familiar pockets and zips of your bag, scrunched eyebrows in frustration.
“Seriously? I'm not lending you any of mine~”
Your friend laughed. You sigh.
“I let you hog all my lunch and this is what I get as a thank you?”
“Too bad. You don't like the blue coloured ones anyway.”
“I'm desperate for a sticky note. Does it look like I'm in a state to be picky?”
Your friend laughs again, and throws their little compact stack of post-its on your book.
“Fine. But you've already annotated so much, what are you gonna write about?”
“Hmm? Wouldn't you like to know?”
You playfully ignore them, as they chitter behind you; carefully sticking it into your textbook and scribbling down the information before you forget. You sigh and look up. You make eye contact.
Right. It's him.
The grey-haired Haravatat boy that rarely showed up. Everyone knew him for his quiet attitude, and his tendency to make your professor's blood boil due to his absence in every lecture. Your friends had a few inside jokes about him. You would dare say this is your first encounter, or really the only one, with him. A stoic look and a judgmental one at the same time, behind curiously multicoloured eyes. 
Nearing the end of the semester – usually the smart ones would avoid the house of Daena, as it would overflow with study groups of caffeine-run seniors and freshman alike. Some of the other clever ones chose spots that weren't easy to find in the first place, and some chose to simply come early.
The thing is, you didn't come early. You were here from midnight. The librarian and all the security checks probably missed you, since you were neatly tucked away into the corner, taking a well-needed nap on one of your reference materials. You only woke up when one of your friends, and that boy poked and prodded you. Your friend laughed until they were out of breath when you looked up – drool slipping down past your chin, eyes swollen from the lack of sleep (and the incessant crying of an academic student), handwriting illegible from just how drowsy you were. The boy only stood quietly, probably judging your.. mannerisms. You weren't sure how, or why, he sat down at the same table as you and your friend. 
—-
Every once in a while - Alhaitham does use the sticky notes.
He didn't buy them. He wanted to borrow them for a short second, but in your hurry, you gave him the compact stack and left, never looking back. After that, you never got them back. Neither of you had the time, and your fate simply intertwined for a brief moment. Things like these happen.
But you keep appearing in the crowd.
He sees you in a flurry of students, or alone at a desolate desk. On a high-up ladder reaching an impossibly reachable book, crouching down to pick up the several you dropped in the process. Passing by the dull lecture halls as he slipped into the library, following the reference materials his father recommended, picked out neatly from private journals and books. The yellow sticky notes never served him much purpose after a single use. He debated simply keeping them on your desk the next time he saw you, but never quite worked up the courage. He swore the sumeru rose scent gave him a headache.
So, when he heard you were continuing your studies at the Akademiya, he was pleased. Working as a Scribe was a simple job, and his chances of seeing you just increased. And he may have been too ambitious, but it worked greatly in his favour – as he opened up another Assistant role for you. 
He hums, content with his decision to keep the sticky notes. Now - how would he utilise them? He wonders if you remember that friend's handwriting. Simple notes turned into obsessive confessions.
Once in a while turned into almost everyday, the more he observed you.
His obsession alone could become the subject of his own studies – but for now you are his sole interest.
And the next overtime, his first after returning to his post as the Scribe – he decides to finally close the chapter.
Has your perfume always been this sweet? That headache's been catching up to you. All that worrying and panic.. when was the last time you slept?
He opens the door to his office. You stand under the warm light, horrified. Piles of sticky notes crowd your feet. The wall barely peeks through behind you from the sticky notes. He closes the door, and a flurry of them fall from the movement. Both of you stare at each other.
“Alhaitham?”
You remember looking at the collection of sticky notes you'd received over a period of time. Is the red ink turning brown? You swore the color changed. Is it supposed to smell? You don't think you want to know.
“Congratulations. You've made it this far. Ive been waiting to talk to you in private."
Your arms go limp, dropping the stack of files onto the floor. The clock ticks silently. You should have gone home. Your bad habit of staying past closing time and evading the security seemed to have not worked in your favour this time.
----
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bots-and-cons · 7 months ago
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Could you please write where smokescreen is given a charge that he ends up seeing as a big sibling/mentor figure but tries to hide that out of embarrassment?
A/N: A fun request to write, hope you enjoy
•If we’re talking human years or the equivalent, Smokescreen is younger than you
•He can be quite reckless sometimes and also overconfident
•While things usually turn out fine for him, he has gotten in trouble with Ratchet multiple times for his antics
•So Ratchet figured maybe you would be able to get him to be a bit less reckless
•You were Ratchet’s charge originally, but he doesn’t really have the time to guard you or take you to places, so Smokescreen was given that job instead
•You teach Smokescreen a lot of things, mostly it’s about life on earth so he can adjust better
•The two of you tend to end up in some weird situations because of his curiosity and the fact that you want him to learn, even if it gets you both in trouble
•Then you’re like naughty kids trying to hide the broken vase from your parents aka Ratchet, and you blame each other for getting into trouble
•You’re also usually the voice of reason and make sure he doesn’t do anything too idiotic, or dangerous
•Smokescreen has learned a lot from you, and he looks up to you, but he doesn’t really want to admit that
•He makes a joke out of how cool he thinks you are and how much you’ve taught him, because he’s a bit embarrassed about it
•Of course he isn’t supposed to know everything about earth and humans, and how humans interact with others and stuff like that
•In a very older sibling fashion, you also have a tendency to tease him about things, and you sometimes argue like siblings too
•It’s usually pretty dumb stuff, like “Do penguins have knees?” you say yes, he says no, and his reasoning is that they don’t look like it, so nope
•You tease each other when one of you loses a match in a video game or something like that
•You’ve kind of taken on an older sibling role without even noticing it, and you two also talk a lot
•It’s not always the most profound stuff, sometimes you just talk total crap, but it’s fun nonetheless
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manias-wordcount · 1 year ago
Note
Hi, I hope you are well.
Could I request a PlatonicBlack Butler x Demigod reader, please? (Sebastian, Ciel, Grell,Undertaker) You can pick anyone else if you want to. Thank you
Demigod Reader HCs (Sebastian Michaelis, Ciel Phantomive, Grelle Sutcliff, Undertaker)
𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗶𝘁!
𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?
𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?
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Sebastian Michaelis
Sebastian thinks you’re “cute” in a way
Really, he thinks it’s adorable how you assume you’re more powerful than you actually are
In truth, you’re not really anything to worry about for a demon
And in general, you’re not anything to sneeze at 
Maybe you’re a bit stronger than the average person your size
Maybe you’re a bit faster than the average person your size
Maybe you’re this, maybe you’re that but in all actuality?
You’re just some kid to Sebastian
Of course, he doesn’t try to mess with you too much
He wouldn’t want to call upon the wrath of someone who actually is a threat like your godly parent
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Ciel Phantomhive
Ciel thinks you’re an enigma- just a little
In a world of angels and demons, being a demigod isn’t all too special
You’re not fully divine
And you’re not fully human
You’re far from the most powerful being he’s ever met
(Though you haven’t seemed to realize that)
But your existence does make him question things more
How does a god have a child with a human? What is the extent of your powers?
For those reasons, Ciel probably keeps you around
After all, studying your existence isn’t completely uninteresting
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Grelle Sutcliff
Grell does not give a shit LMAOOO
Seriously
Like what is a Grim Reaper supposed to do with some random ass demigod
Naturally, she was a little interesting upon first meeting you
You don’t run into one that often after all
But upon meeting you, the interest fades completely
So what you’re a little bit more special than the average human?
It still doesn’t make you that special
So try not to take it to heart when she never seems particularly interesting in talking to you or what you’re doing
You really can’t blame her- especially when you’re hanging around far more powerful characters like Sebastian and such
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Undertaker
He’s fond of you
Somewhat
Chances are, you’re not a wet blanket like Ciel so he enjoys it when he can get a good laugh with you
And he doesn’t get to see many demigods
Plus the last few ones he saw were already dead so it’s nice to talk to one that’s alive
That being said, you’re not anything crazy special
So he doesn’t quite care much about beyond the fact that you have some connection to his world rather than just being a random human being
That being said, he is excited for the moment he gets to have you fitted for a coffin
He knows it’s a long time coming considering you’re a little harder to kill than the average human
But he’s excited either way
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gingiesworld · 1 year ago
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New Sheriff in Town
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Requested by @louxbloom
Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader/ Past Wanda Maximoff x Vision
Warnings: Angst. Fluff.
18+ MINORS DNI
Wanda and Vision were high school sweethearts, everything seemed perfect until she fell pregnant before graduating. Vision proposed to her as soon as he found out which Wanda had said yes.
It all seemed fairytale like as the years went on, Wanda being the stay at home mom as Vision went to work with his uncle at Stark Industries to provide for his family. As much as Wanda loved being a mom to her sons, she hated being home alone. Living the same day, same routine over and over again.
As the years went on, Vision had started to treat Wanda as a maid and not his wife, the twins soon caught on and started to treat her the same as their father did. As much as it broke Wanda's heart, she couldn't leave. Even though her friend's Natasha and Agatha would tell her otherwise. She had an obligation to be there for her family. That is what she was taught the perfect wife was.
That was until Vision had handed her divorce papers as he packed his things. Leaving her to raise two teen boys as he moved in with the 20 year old twinkie in the city. The twins had blamed Wanda for him leaving and never really cut her any slack. Wanda would also find herself crying herself to sleep every night. Wondering at what point her life had took a turn.
But with two 15 year old boys, running amuck throughout Westview. Especially being just as entitled as their father, always causing noise and destruction wherever they go. Only to be yelled at by Wanda before the two would make her cry.
A new resident had moved in ane joined the local Sheriff's department. Well they were the new Sheriff. When they saw the two yelling at Wanda, blaming her for their father not wanting anything to do with them.
"Hey!" Their voice boomed, causing the three to look in their direction. "I suggest you boys show your mother some respect."
"What are you going to do about it?" Tommy sneered as the twins crossed their arms across their chests.
"If I catch you boys doing anything out of line, I can have you arrested." They told them sternly.
"What? You gonna call the police?" Billy teased as Tommy laughed. They sighed as they got their badge out.
"I am the new Sheriff so I suggest you start to respect your mom." They told the two sternly. "Also, if I catch either of you vandalising any property, that includes your mom's house, I will put you in handcuffs. Do you understand me?" The two just nodded before walking inside as Wanda approached Y/N.
"Thank you. I'm Wanda." She introduced herself.
"Y/N." They shook her hand. "Well it was nice to meet you but I have to get to the station." Wanda waved nervously as she watched them walk away.
As the time went on, Y/N had found Tommy drinking in the park. So they approached him with a soft smile on their face.
"Hey, you're Wanda's son right?" They questioned as Tommy just scoffed before having another big sip. "You know you can talk to me."
"About what?!" Tommy spat. "How my dad left us and we've blamed mom all the time for it. Especially seeing him with his new wife and kid."
"Listen, I understand how hard it can be to have a parent give up on you." They told him. "But your mom is still here. She is still looking after you and your brother. You just need to give her a chance. It isn't her fault your dad quit on you guys. That's all on him so please just cut her some slack. Talk with Billy too. She deserves better than the crap you two have given her."
"I'm sorry." Tommy cried as Y/N put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"Save that apology for your mom and do it sober." They told him before standing up. "Come on, I'll give you a ride home." That was the first time that Tommy had felt extremely bad for how he had treated his mom. He hated himself and he hated his dad.
Once Y/N had pulled up outside of the Maximoff residence, Wanda came running out, worry etched onto her features as Y/N helped Tommy out of the car.
"Is he ok?" She asked them as they helped him inside.
"He's just drunk." They told her when they lay him on the sofa to sleep. "He's going to have one killer headache in the morning."
"Thank you." Wanda told them sincerely as she walked them out.
"It's no problem. They have been served a bad hand. The three of you have." Y/N told her softly as she smiled. "I will help keep my eye on them outside of these walls but the rest is on you Maximoff." They told her as she nodded. Watching as they left once more, this time admiring their form in their uniform.
As the time went on, the twins were better than before with Wanda. Doing chores without being asked and even making her drinks.
"I honestly don't know what has happened but it feels like something out of a horror movie." She whispered to Nat as the two stood on the porch, watching the twins mow the lawn and wash the car.
"I know what you mean. It's kind of like an alien invasion." She replied as Wanda nodded. It wasn't until they saw Y/N doing their rounds. Wanda noted that they weren't in their uniform as they stopped and spoke with the twins. "Or maybe a new person has something to do with it." Nat soon noticed how Wanda was silent as she watched Y/N and the boys laugh about something. "You like them." Nat pointed out as Wanda snapped her head in her friend's direction.
"No." She laughed as Nat smirked.
"Yes you do." She told her. "It's ok to want to move on Wanda."
"I know that but the twins have just stopped hating me." She told her. "If I change something it could ruin it."
As the year went on, Wanda had organised a BBQ for the twins birthday. Inviting their friends and family, Y/N had come with some gifts for the twins. Tickets to see their favourite team play the next game. It wasn't until Vision walked inside like he still owned the house.
"Vision? What are you doing here?" Wanda questioned as Vision smirked.
"I came to wish my boys a happy birthday and give them their present." He said as he waved a set of keys in her face.
"Please leave." She spoke shakily as the twins soon noticed the commotion. Y/N's gaze followed theirs as they soon moved to Wanda.
"She said to leave." Tommy stated as he stood beside Wanda.
"You will speak to your father with respect." He spat at him angrily.
"When you see him, let me know." Tommy smirked as Billy held his mom as she cried. All of her anger, pain and sadness coming back ten fold. It was when Vision was about the back hand Tommy across the face Y/N had stepped in.
"I suggest you leave." They told him as they gripped his wrist tightly.
"Fuck you." Vision spat before taking a swing at Tommy with his other hand. Y/N getting in the way and receiving a jab to the jaw.
"I won't ask again." They snarled as they towered over him. "Leave now or I'll have you arrested for trespassing."
"Whatever." He snarled before turning on his heels and leaving the house. Y/N soon got on their phone to a locksmith.
"The locksmith is coming tomorrow." They told Wanda who soon wrapped her arms around them. They were shocked at the action but reciprocated the hug regardless.
"Thank you." Wanda whispered before she kissed their cheek. The party continuing as Vision had never came. The twins barely left Wanda's side as everyone soon started to leave.
"Y/N." Wanda called out before Y/N got into their car.
"Are you ok?" They asked her as she nodded, not expecting her to wrap her arms around their neck and kissed them passionately. Y/N sunk into the kiss as she deepened it. When she pulled away, they watched dumbfounded as she walked back inside. A smile on her lips.
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rosielovesf1 · 8 months ago
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lucky 🍀 | AA23
alex debuts an... interesting... new hair for race weekend, and y/n is to blame after a little too much to drink
word count: 1.5k
warnings: none!
author's note: MY WRITER'S BLOCK IS CURED WOOHOO SO NOW TWO POSTS IN ONE NIGHT!!!! this season seems to be the anything can happen type, so i am crossing my fingers and toes to see alex on the podium at some point. anyway, this was literally so fun to write i hope you enjoy :))
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“alright kids, you’re home.” george russell did not imagine this would be his friday night when he had left his home a long six hours earlier. if he’d known that he would be assigned the role of babysitter for his former teammate and his girlfriend, he maybe would’ve stayed home. or at least worn shoes that he liked a little less, as his favorite trainers were currently sporting a new, puce green stain. 
“thank youuuu, george,” y/n slurred, her eyes hazy and unfocused. her boyfriend didn’t look any better, practically putting all of his weight on poor y/n. she didn’t seem to mind though, one hand braced against the couch for balance, one hand wrapped around his waist to keep him upright. 
if only the world could see the wholesome “parents of the paddock” now, george thought. satisfied they were safe and taken care of, he shut the front door quietly behind him, grinning as he made his way to carmen who sat in the passenger seat of his car. now that y/n and alex were home, they’d likely sleep it off and stay out of trouble. right?
well… not quite. 
as george pulled out of the driveway, inside, alex and y/n had managed to remember that couches could be sat on, not just leaned up against. they collapsed onto the soft cushions, alex sighing contently as he pulled y/n to sit between his legs. she cuddled into his chest, craving warmth after what had been a very cold night out in a very tiny dress. 
just as y/n was starting to fall asleep, alex started to shift underneath her. she groaned and just wrapped her arms around him tighter. 
“love, i’m so thirsty.” 
y/n shook her head, trying to get back to the drowsy state she’d just left. “too comfy.” 
he poked her arm in response, and she ignored it best she could until it was unbearable. 
“stop it!”
“i need water,” he moaned dramatically, starting to unwrap his arms from around her.
“i’m thirsty too, but i’m being nice and not moving.” 
“you’re not being nice, you’re being lazyyy.” he drew out the last letter, and she turned her head only to stick out her tongue at him. 
“fine. i’ll take you with me.” y/n didn’t mind what he did, as long as she didn’t have to walk or do anything other than shut her eyes tight against the blurriness that came with a few (okay, a lot) too many shots of vodka. alex pushed himself off the couch, and y/n wrapped her limbs around him tightly until he safely deposited her to sit on the kitchen counter. 
there was the sound of the cabinet door opening and closing, and the gurgle of the tap broke through the otherwise silent apartment. 
“i can hear you gulping.” y/n said, eyes still squeezed shut. “share please.” 
the three glasses of water each they downed helped somewhat- y/n’s stomach had settled and her head was spinning less, but now she just had the lack of inhibition and craving for spontaneity that alcohol fostered. 
from her perch on the counter, she could sit with her legs wrapped around alex’s torso, his head relaxing back into her chest as he stood with his back to her. she ran her fingers gently through his hair, smiling as an idea formed. 
“when’s the last time you dyed your hair, love?”
“mmm. it’s been a while. last year, maybe?”
y/n felt a rush of excitement, but tread carefully to avoid spooking her poor unsuspecting boyfriend. 
“what if you let me dye it?” 
his posture became a little less relaxed, a little more alert. uh oh. say yes. she chanted silently in her head. say yes, say yes, say yes. 
“have you ever dyed hair before?” not a full yes, but this was good. it wasn’t a no. there was still a possibility. 
“i did rina’s hair just last month.” sure, your sister changed her hair so often that she had simply laughed at your botched dye job, rocking the streaky blue until she was able to get into a proper salon the next week. but experience was experience. he hadn’t asked about the outcome. 
“okay.”
“okay?” you squealed and planted a kiss on his cheek, wrapping your arms underneath his chin and resting your head on top of his. he just laughed, relaxing even more into your embrace if that was even possible. 
“alright, come on, i think i have dye under the sink.” 
“wait, now? i was thinking next week after the race, love.” but you didn’t want to wait that long, you wanted to do something fun now, while the world looked a little brighter than usual and you could practically feel the blood pumping through your veins. you decided to test your luck and hopped down from the counter, pulling him along towards the small hall bathroom, grinning when he just followed along. 
alex sat down on the toilet lid while you rummaged through the messy sink cabinet, finally finding what you’d desperately hoped was still there in the back corner- bleach, and the remnants of a dye kit you’d bought when your sister had encouraged you to try red hair (spoiler alert, it was a very bad idea). there definitely wouldn’t be enough red dye to do alex’s entire head though, and you frowned as you tried to work out a solution. 
suddenly, the perfect idea struck. after mixing the dyes, you happily got to work. alex was content to just relax into the pressure of your fingers in his hair, and before you knew it, your masterpiece was complete. after a quick rinse, and a change into comfier, cleaner clothes for both of you, you fell into bed. there was only time for a quick goodnight kiss, and by the time your head hit the pillow, you had practically already fallen into a deep sleep. 
which is why, when you woke up the next morning, cursing the bright sunlight of the gorgeous fall morning, the previous night wasn’t totally clear at first. you cringed at the memory of puking into the dirty club bathroom, but there was nothing hideously embarrassing up until george bringing you and alex home. however, at the thought of what your drunken brain had thought was a good idea once the two of you were left to your own devices, you shot up in bed, staring in horror at the sleeping boy next to you. 
alex’s hair. dear god. you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your lips, and then cursed yourself as all the movement and noise had alex stirring in bed. he smiled up at you with sleepy eyes, getting halfway through “good morning” before clocking your expression. 
“what?” he sat up in bed, sheets sliding down as his worry increased. “y/n, what’s wrong?” 
“alex, love, i’m so sorry.” it was all you could do but apologize, and alex looked confused until he spotted himself in the mirror hanging to the right of your bed. 
his jaw dropped as he turned his head left and right. you just winced, apologizing over and over. but you stopped mid sentence when his look of shock turned into a grin, and then a full blown, stomach-hurting laugh. he dropped his head into his hands, shoulders shaking. 
you couldn’t help it- that type of laugh was infectious. 
“i’m so sorry, love,” you groaned between giggles, leaning into alex’s shoulder. “i don’t know what i was thinking.” 
it took him a couple seconds to get back the breath to reply, but when he did it was clear that there was nothing but amusement in the situation. 
“don’t be sorry, y/n,” he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and squeezed tight. “i’m surprised we didn’t do worse with how plastered we were last night.” 
“remind me that shots are very, very bad the next time we go out, please.” the dull throb in her temples was her body’s way of agreeing with that statement. in a serious tone, she looked up at him, determined to fix the situation. “i’ll find you an appointment at a salon before the race, i promise.” 
“are you kidding?” he turned to look at himself again in the mirror, running a hand over his hair. “i’m definitely going to get bullied by the grid, but this can only be good luck.” 
and despite your protests and offers to fix it, he remains resolute in having the absolutely horrid dye job for the entirety of the race weekend. and when he manages to achieve the practically impossible- a podium in a williams- after crediting the team’s immense efforts, it isn’t his stellar driving that he wants to discuss in post-race interviews. no, he attributes his success to his new hair, which he makes sure to emphasize was done by his lovely girlfriend. 
even though your drunken mistake is now a very popular topic of conversation in the f1 world, you can’t help but feel any emotion besides all-consuming pride.
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@alex_albon: best weekend ever. biggest thanks to the team, and my new barber @ y/n-l/n for the lucky hair
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@y/n-l/n: HE DID IT!!!!!!!! endlessly proud of you AA23 <3
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callhermyname · 7 months ago
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you're not going | e.m. x reader - prologue
summary: you and Eddie meet for the first time (a few weeks before the start of s1);
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
word count: 2.6k
warnings: MDNI!! mostly fluff, just a tiny bit of angst, reader is Dustin's cousin, mentions of absent father, postpartum depression, parents death, self-esteem issues, bullying (let me know if I missed anything).
a/n: HEY so this is my first fic ever so even if it's absolute garbage pls be nice to me😭 also sorry for any grammar mistakes english is not my first language. this is supposed to be the start of a s4 rewrite series, so if you want more please like this post, reblog and let me know what you think. hope u enjoy it!
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
You've been living at aunt Claudia's since you were 14. After your mom died, you had nowhere else to go — you can't even remember the last time your dad was in the picture, so when your aunt took you in, you kinda felt thankful that you got to start over, have a fresh start in another town, away from your old life (that you hated). You were still grieving, but aunt Claudia was always very sweet and caring, and soon after you moved in you started to see Dustin as the little brother you never had. It felt a little weird at first — even though your mother did her best, she never really liked the situation you were both in. She never planned to have kids, at least not before graduating from college, especially if it meant being a single mom at such a young age, so you couldn't really blame her for drowning in postpartum depression after you were born until she passed away. So, when her older sister took you in, you didn't expect for her to be so different from your mom, so caring, so gentle, so loving, such a good mom for Dustin and now to you too. 
When you first got to Hawkins, you didn't really have any friends besides your 11 year old cousin. One of his friends had a sister about your age — Mike's sister, Nancy — but, although she was always nice to you, you never really quite hit it off. She was sweet, but you didn't have a lot in common and her friends could be really mean. Will's brother, Jonathan, was always very shy and quiet, never really made conversation and you were definitely not the kind of person to force social interaction with someone that obviously didn't care for it, so you just kept it to yourself for most of the first year you spent at Hawkins.
A couple of weeks before Will went missing, Nancy was picking Mike up at your place and invited you to a party at her boyfriend's house. Your aunt overheard the conversation and was very excited to see you were making friends, so you decided to go just so she wouldn't worry about you being an absolute loser. You were always quite self-conscious of your appearance so it took some time to pick out an outfit, but you finally settled for something comfy and not that flashy, but flattering: your best Queen shirt under your favorite jeans overalls and a flannel and your only pair of shoes — basic black chuck taylors.
It was late October and the air was chilly, wind blowing through your hair and cutting your face like tiny little blades as you rode your bike to Steve Harrington's house, hoping to god Nancy was already there so you wouldn't be alone and awkward. You could already hear the music from two blocks away, and when you got to the front door, Nancy was waiting for you with her friend Barb. You knew Barb from school, you took English together, but didn't really talk about anything not school related, but she seemed nice. 
"You made it! I was already getting worried you wouldn't show up" Nancy greeted you. "You know Barb, right?"
"Yeah, hey Barb" you agreed and Barb nodded. "Sorry it took me so long to get here, my bike has seen better days…"
"It's fine, don't worry. Let's get in, I'll show you around. You can leave your bike at the back of the garage, outside of the backyard fence."
You left your bike where Nancy told you to and followed her into the house as she showed you where the bathroom was, stumbling over people coming in and out of the house, up and down the stairs. The house was so crowded, it felt like people were coming out of the walls. When she led you to the back of the house, she sat down by the pool and introduced you to her boyfriend and his friends, who were around the pool. 
From the start, you felt out of place. Steve and his friends didn't know you, but you already knew them. It was ridiculous to you how those people had made fun of you more than once at school but did not remember your face when Nancy introduced you as her friend. Maybe because you weren't wearing your big squared glasses, or because you tried something different with your hair? It didn't really matter anyways. At least they were not making fun of you. Poor Barb wasn't so lucky — they gave her a really hard time, and Nancy was just completely powerless over the situation, too afraid to say anything to try and defend her friend. After an hour, Barb got fed up and left, leaving you alone with Nancy and those assholes who were absolutely wasted and wouldn't shut up about playing spin the bottle or truth or dare.
"Come on, what are you, twelve?" Steve protested, "We're not kids man, that's just boring."
"You're absolutely right Harrington. But, we could spice it up, ya know?" Tommy offered, trying to convince Steve to play the game "For every truth or dare you refuse to tell or do, you have to take a shot of tequila. What do you say, Harrington? Wanna get absolutely wasted?"
Next thing you know, you were excusing yourself to go to the bathroom while at least 10 people were gathering around forming a circle on the floor of Steve's backyard. You didn't really need to use the bathroom, you just needed to cool off a little before getting hammered — you were NOT about to tell any truths or do any dares around these people you barely knew. Before you could go back outside, you got yourself a glass of water in the kitchen. As you threw away the red plastic cup, now empty, you heard a conversation through the kitchen window that headed to the backyard.
"So, can we start the game already?"
"Wait, where's Wheeler's  friend?"
"Barb left like, half an hour ago, Carol" you heard Nancy reply.
"No, not the chubby one, the other one, the weird one with the ugly hair."
"I think she needed to use the bathroom…?"
"Oh my god do you think she's like, brushing her teeth or something? Thinking someone's gonna want to kiss her?" Carol laughed.
"We better not wait for her then, I do NOT want to spin the bottle and end up having to kiss that weird ass bitch!" Tommy said, getting a good laugh out of everyone.
Your eyes teared up as you backed away from the window, thinking about what to do. You thought you could just sneak out and go home, cry yourself to sleep, but then you remembered you had left your bike chained up by the backyard fence. There was no way you could get your bike without anyone noticing you sneaking out. Fuck, you knew you should've stayed home reading something or watching TV.
Since you couldn't go home without your bike, you decided to wait until everyone was back inside. It couldn't take that long, you thought, it was freezing out there. But you couldn't stay inside either. Not by yourself. So, you walked over to the front door and opened it, feeling the cold air hit your cheeks. You walked out of the house and into the woods beside the house, where you could still see the backyard, but would be out of sight, a little further from the backyard fence and hidden in the dark shadow of the trees that surrounded the Harrington's property. Once you were settled, seated on the ground, you bursted into tears. Hot, salty tears running through your face as you sobbed, hating everything about yourself, hating the fact that, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't escape the fact that you were always different. Not in an obvious way — you didn't have that much of a fashion sense that was bold enough to earn dirty looks from old ladies —, but sometimes you felt like you didn't feel things the same way other people did. You felt fragile, small, vulnerable, like you were exposed all the time. It made you feel like shit.
You were so quiet, you couldn't help but to jump out when you heard footsteps behind you and then something snapping, like someone had stepped on a branch or something. You turned around wide eyed, heart pounding, just to see a silhouette standing behind you, holding a little metal lunchbox. It was a boy, shaggy curly hair down to right below his earlobes, Iron Maiden shirt, leather jacket and denim vest, dark loose jeans and heavy black boots.
"Dude, what the fuck" you panted, trying to not look as spooked and jumpy as you were "where did you came from?"
"Shit, sorry" he said, trying to hold back his laughter "didn't mean to scare ya, normally i don't run by anyone when i take this shortcut, though it has been a while since i actually used this shortcut — see, i usually drive mostly everywhere, but i ran out of gas money for the month and i thought 'hey, i could actually use a little walk through the woods to cool my head off a little' so i just decided to- whoa, wait, are you crying? I'm so sorry I didn't mean to scare you like that!" he stopped his rambling when he noticed you were drying your tears with the sleeve of your jacket.
"No, it's not- really, i'm fine" you panicked, noticing he seemed a little hurt by your reaction "i was already crying before you- sorry, it wasn't you, i'm fine don't worry"
He walked over to you and sat down beside you, a concerned look on his face.
"I don't wanna be nosy or anything, I know you don't really know me" he started, you now realizing you did recognise him from school, how could you not? He's always drawing attention to himself "but you can talk to me if you want. I'm guessing you were at Harrington's party? Everyone down there sitting at that circle in the backyard is kinda known for being a pain in the ass"
"What gave it away?" you brushed off your tears, slightly smiling at his comment "Just didn't wanna play truth or dare with… you know, those guys. But it seems they were glad I didn't join them, so they wouldn't have to kiss me if someone decided to play spin the bottle" 
"Wait, what?" he seemed surprised "They told you that?"
"Not exactly" you explained "I was at the kitchen and overheard someone saying that outside, so i bailed"
"What are you still doing here then?- Oh, I'm Eddie, by the way." he introduced himself, shaking your hand as you introduced yourself.
You explained the whole situation to him and he offered to keep you company until you could get your bike back and go home. After an hour of nonsense conversation filled with Eddie's dramatic sense of humor, you actually got to know each other a little bit. He told you about his band and how he really liked Lord of the Rings and fantasy RPG.
"I'm not really a huge fan of fantasy books" you shared, causing him to gasp, as he was offended by your comment.
"How dare you? Are you not a huge fan of happiness too? Or maybe you hate puppies and ice cream?" he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "How can you not like the only way to escape this boring non-fictional world we are FORCED to live in?"
"Hey, don't get me wrong, I do like fiction. Just not... fantasy fiction."
"So what do you like then?"
"I really enjoy science fiction."
"What, like androids and shit?"
"No, not that kind of science fiction. I mean science fiction like... Clockwork Orange, or Flowers for Algernon."
"Oh so you're a nerd too!" he teased "I was almost buying all that 'not a nerd' act, but you're into Kubrick? That's so nerdy!"
"You do know Stanley Kubrick didn't write the book right?"
"Shut up, you know what I mean."
Once he started to talk about music, he just couldn't stop talking for a second. He told you about his band, and you felt as if he was the first person to ever understand your passion for music. After another 30 minutes or so of energetic conversation about how much you both liked 70s rock, he ended up telling you he only attended this kind of party to sell some weed and make a quick buck.
"Don't get me wrong, i fucking hate these people" he explained himself "but they ARE in fact my biggest costumers. Guess daddy's money might not be enough for them to feel loved, but it does buy whatever else they need to feel better about themselves. So, they always make sure I'm 'invited' to every party they want me to bring my little lunchbox to."
"Yeah, that makes sense i guess" you agreed, turning your head over to the backyard, people already heading inside due to the cold. You felt your heart sink, even though all you've been wanting was to take your bike and leave. You were actually really enjoying getting to talk to Eddie.
"Well, i guess this is it" he said, noticing as you watched everyone getting into the house "now you can go home and not listen to me and my rambling about whatever it is i was talking about. Hell, even i can't remember what the hell i was talking about most of the time" he laughed. 
"To be honest, it wasn't that bad" you laughed back "it was definitely better than spin the bottle!"
He chuckled, helping you get up and unchain your bike from the fence, giving you a dorky smile as you hopped up on your bike. 
"Well, I better get back to work huh? Got a lot of customers waiting on me" he gestured to the house as you secured your helmet under your chin.
"Yeah, I better get back home too. My aunt refuses to go to sleep until i get home safe, don't wanna keep her waiting"
"So, I guess I'll see you at school, huh?" he shifted at his feet and kicked the ground, stuffing his hands inside the pockets of his vest.
"Yeah, if there's any seats left for another nerd at your table for lunch" you chuckled awkwardly, looking at your feet.
"For a pretty one like you? Always."
You exchanged an awkward look and smiled at each other again, and with that you followed your way back home, feeling hopeful about how the next few weeks would play out. You thought you had finally found someone you could trust and spend time with, someone who got you — a friend.
For the next week or so, you and Eddie hung out a lot. Finally, you had someone you could call a friend, and things seemed to be going not so bad for the first time in months. He would always save you a seat at the table at lunch and walk you to your classes, he would even give you a ride every once in a while, when his van was not running out of gas. It was something you could get used to — at least until a couple of weeks later, when you, Nancy, Jonathan and Steve ended up trauma bonding over setting a demogorgon on fire. After that, your life had (literally) turned upside down and you didn't hang out with Eddie that much anymore. As the years went by, you would hang out more with Steve and Robin once Nancy and Jonathan started dating. You would still talk to Eddie though, just... not like you talked to your other friends. They were the only ones who actually understood what you were going through, and — even though you missed his company — it would be selfish to tell Eddie everything and drag him into that nightmare. Until of course, the nightmare caught up to him.
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