#she’s in foster care so any time to be away is good time
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return-of-a-space-cowboy · 17 hours ago
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Platonic Yandere Giorno and Adopted Mother (Bad seed inspired)
Familal Yandere Giorno X adopted mother reader
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Warning: mentions of child abuse
They were his teacher when he started attending school. Alway kind to their students. They noticed he had trouble integrating and brought it up with his mother who assured them that he was fine. They believe that maybe he was just shy and needed time to get used to this.
His parents were often late to picking him up so darling watched him, eventually even tutoring him so that he could speak Italian better. Deep down they felt that something wasn't right but that wasn't enough to act on.
Eventually he started coming to school with bruises and welts. At first they asked his parents. He fell over they told them but it cleanly wasn't the case. So they stopped asking and took photos, eventually reporting it. They promised him that things would get better and that he needed to stay hopeful.
So when he was removed from his parents care they offered to foster him and were accepted. He was happy to be with them and so did they. For awhile it was only them, they even officially adopted him.
However around his early teens they met someone. All seemed well until their partner was caught cheating on them. Giorno was there to console them. Offered them everything he possibly could to help them. Mentally he vowed that he would never allow anyone to do this to his mother again.
Once again it was just the two of them and everything was fine until they decided to start dating again. Giorno didn't trust this person after the previous partner they had but stomached it for them. He did keep his eye out, even stalking their partner until he knew they weren't trustworthy. The partner disappears and once again Giorno was there to comfort them in their time of need.
Shortly after his stand fully manifests. Of course they are shocked and give him a light scolding about bleaching his hair, He should have told them first so they could have helped him. He doesn't argue it as how else is he able to explain it. They can't see any issues with the job so no harm, they even admit they like how his hair looks.
With hos newfound power he starts sabotaging any chance of a romantic relationship with them. One time they catch him going through their texts and quickly takes their phone off him.
"I need my privacy Giorno, I know you're worried but I can take care of myself" they tell him
Eventually his petty sabotaging doesn't work and you end up in another relationship. They can tell Giorno isn't happy with it but they assure him that their new partner is a good person.
Perhaps the new partner catches him doing one of his shady side hustles and does him to them. They are disappointed by him and try to deter him from doing it again. It becomes evident that the new partner wants him out of the picture. Constantly finding ways to get him in trouble and suggests they send him to a boarding school to "straighten him out" they do consider sending him for different reasons, wanting him to give him some more freedom and so that he'll have a good secondary education (as highschools in italy are more similar to university / college that you study for particular professions).
He respects their decision. But after he ends up as Don of Passione He kills the partner and uses his power to hide the body. This time she's has a feeling that her partner didn't leave on their own volition and the police get involved however it quickly becomes a cold case.
Eventually Giorno returns to tell them about his accomplishments they're horrified. They had tried so hard to keep him as far away from the mafia but now he's a Don. What ever happened to their sweet boy.
He tries to sway them over. Debts are cleared. He offers them new houses and cars. Gifts them with luxuries beyond their wildest dreams but to them it all Blood money.
He just wants his mother back, he's trying to repay her for everything they've done for him. He wants to know they're safe and he can't trust another to do so.
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fanfought · 10 months ago
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modern verse suki is an extracurriculars girlie. she is constantly on the move. martial arts, gymnastics, maaaaaybe ballet. some kind of dance. she’s constantly doing stuff so she doesn’t have to be at home shshshkala
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wonderjanga · 2 months ago
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Sharing Can in Fact Lead to Caring
Sometimes Billy doesn’t need Solomon. Sometimes, Billy just says whatever that comes off the top of his head, it can be surprisingly helpful at times. (Billy doesn’t realize most of them are just coming to their dad figure for advice)
Such as the time Wonder Woman came to him concerned about time dilation. When Solomon explained what that meant, he had a pretty good idea of what she was talking about. Basically, she was worried about the afterword of the Justice League and her friends and how she would outlive them all. He brought her ice cream and they talked it out. In a way, he supposed he understood her. Billy couldn’t remember his mom or dad’s faces or personalities. He only had Captain Marvel to go off of and he guesses Mary, but she looks more like a young version of their mom. In the end, after much talking and trying to show he understands her worries, she seemed to be doing better.
Then, there was a talk with J’onn. The Martian had confided in not feeling at home with the humans. Not that he blamed him. J’onn had lost his home. So, Billy talked with him. Again, sort of relating. The way the Martian described missing his planet, reminded Billy of how he’d missed his parents. By the end of the talk, the Martian seemed to feel a little lighter after it.
Then, there was this kid.
Little Girl: *sitting on a bench alone*
Marvel: “Hey there, miss. Where are your parents?”
Little Girl: *stares* “There not here.”
Marvel: “Why’s that?” *sits down next to her*
Little Girl: *shrugs*
Marvel: “Well, then do you have any guardians?”
Little Girl: “I think so, but I don’t really like her. She’s mean. I don’t think she likes me or my foster siblings.”
Marvel: “Oh? You’re from foster care?”
Little Girl: *hesitantly nods head*
Marvel: “And I’m guessing you ran away?”
Little Girl: *nods again* “Are you going to tell on me?”
Marvel: “No. I ran away from my foster homes all the time.” *shrugs, doesn’t know why he’s saying this but might as well go with it*
Little Girl: “You did?”
Marvel: “Yeah. They were all terrible. And the ones that weren’t terrible were just neglectful.”
Little Girl: “What does neglectful mean?”
Marvel: “It means not paying attention to something. Like for example, I had this foster parent who would go days without coming home, leaving me and the other kids to have to feed ourselves. She wasn’t paying attention to us or our needs.”
Little Girl: “That’s sad.”
Marvel: “Yeah, it is. So, why did you run away from your foster home?”
Little Girl: “The lady who adopted me throws stuff when she gets mad. She’s mad a lot.”
Marvel: “That sucks. I had a foster home like that too. He would throw a bottles, forks, books, whatever he could get his hands on.”
Little Girl: “You did? Did you think it was scary?”
Marvel: “Yeah.”
*silence*
Marvel: “You know, a friend of mine got adopted recently.”
Little Girl: “Really?”
Marvel: “Yeah, he’s been with them for about half a year now. He says they’re great. They’ve been fostering kids for a while apparently too.”
Little Girl: “That sounds nice.”
Marvel: “It is. Do you want me to ask about it?”
Little Girl: “Huh?”
Marvel: “Do you want me to ask him if there’s any spots open?”
Little Girl: *stares for a bit* “Yeah.” *stomach growls*
Marvel: “Alright, then I will. Now, how long have you been on the streets?”
Little Girl: “Oh uhm… a couple days.”
Marvel: “Come on, let’s get you something to eat.” *stands up*
Little Girl: “Really?” *hops off the bench*
Marvel: “Yeah. You feeling chili dogs or tacos? Those are the only two vendors I know that’ll give me something free.”
Little Girl: “Tacos, please.”
Marvel: “Alright then- uh, my bad. I never asked your name?”
Little Girl: “Oh uhm it’s Darla.”
Marvel: “Darla? Alright then Darla.” *fatherly ahh smile* “Let’s go get you some food, ‘kay?”
So ya. He met Darla. She’s a sweet kid. He would need to ask Freddy more about the Vazquez situation. Hopefully, just hopefully, they could squeeze the little girl into their family.
Also, uh… I guess in this AU, Freddy met the Vazquez and got adopted because he went back into foster care for a bit for whatever reason. There, he got adopted into the family. Darla joins after him for this post to work.
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dadbodbuck · 1 month ago
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could it shine down here with you?
Rating: G | WC: 1.7k | Pairing: BuckTommy
Loosely based on this post by @loulovingho!
Summary:
Tommy doesn't realize until later that he already asked for Thanksgiving off.
Read it here on Ao3 or continue below!
Tommy is five, or maybe six, and he doesn’t like Thanksgiving. His dad is screaming at his mom because the turkey isn’t thawed. He’s calling her a lot of words that Tommy thinks are really mean. Tommy’s dad yells a lot, but it’s rarely this bad. Tommy’s mom usually waits for it to blow over, but this time, Tommy watches from the living room entry as her face crumbles and she shoulders past Tommy’s dad, breezes by Tommy, and flees into their bedroom.
Tommy wants to follow her, but his dad grabs his arm, too-tight, and tugs Tommy away towards where the half-thawed turkey is laying on the ground, cold and slimy. When they get there, Tommy’s dad hands him a garbage bag and a roll of paper towels and says “Your mom needs some time alone to think about what she’s done. Clean up this mess.”
It’s okay, because later his mom comes out of the bedroom and kneels down, her eyes red and puffy, and she tells him, “I’m so sorry you had to see that, honey. You did a good job cleaning the kitchen. It’s okay, we can still have dinner, even if I messed up the turkey,” and she makes Stovetop stuffing, and takes cranberry sauce out of a can, dishing them up on a plastic plate for Tommy, and a glass plate for her.
Tommy’s not sure where his dad went, but he’s glad it’s just him and his mom for a little while.
Tommy is twelve, and he hates Thanksgiving. He hates most holidays centered around football, actually. It’s a double-edged sword—his dad gets drunk, and his dad gets riled up, and he’s either too loud and happy, or too loud and mad. The Superbowl is Tommy’s least favorite time of the year. Especially when the Rams are playing.
The Rams aren’t playing this year, but that doesn’t mean Tommy’s off the hook. Tommy brings his dad beers when his dad calls for them, doesn’t say a word to his old man, carefully doesn’t flinch when his dad yells angrily at the screen.
For the most part, Tommy sits alone in his room and looks at the picture of his mom. It’s her high school graduation, she’s gleaming in her cap and gown. Tommy misses her.
Tommy knows that his family isn’t normal. That it’s fucked up. But he also knows how to deal with his dad, especially now that his mom isn’t around to instigate anymore. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen if he gets sent to foster care. He doesn’t want to know.
Tommy also knows, somewhere, that it’s partially his own fault. Maybe if he was a better kid—someone his dad could be proud of, this wouldn’t happen. He was always doing something to incur his father’s wrath. Plus, it’s not like his dad doesn’t love him, in his own way. Tommy loves his dad, too.
Tommy makes his own Stovetop stuffing and cranberry sauce from a can. His dad doesn’t eat it, but Tommy doesn’t care, because at least he survived Thanksgiving without any more bruises.
Tommy is eighteen, and twenty-three, and thirty-one. Thanksgiving is in a shitty barracks at the base, a tiny studio in downtown LA, and the 118 firehouse. It’s spent wolfing down an MRE, trying to figure out how to get his horrible stove to work, and eating Stovetop stuffing and cranberry sauce and praying that the alarm doesn’t go off. There are the other soldiers, and Tommy’s rescue cat Teddy, and Howie.
The MRE is as it always is. You get used to the weird textures and instant coffee and chemical heat smell of the food warmer. The funny thing about Iraq, the thing that will keep Tommy awake for years and years, is that it gets cold during the winter. Tommy knew before he shipped out that he didn’t know what much about the country, but now that he’s here, he’s stuck with sick realization after sick realization. The people here are scared, and the Army isn’t helping. Tommy looks at the other soldiers in a way he shouldn’t. Civilians are dying. War is messy in a way that allows people to excuse inexcusable violence. Tommy cannot speak the language, of either the Iraqi citizens or the people he was told would be his brothers. Iraq gets cold during the winter.
Teddy is an orange beauty, with long fluffy fur and a penchant for mischief. Tommy didn’t ask for Thanksgiving off, but it’s a holiday at the Academy, apparently. So, he’s here, listening to the click of the gas range as it tries to light. Teddy watches from the tiny countertop with uncharacteristic judgment in his eyes. When the flame finally catches, Tommy laughs victoriously, and gets to work making stuffing and cranberry sauce for the first time in years. It’s not gourmet by any means, just the Stovetop and the canned stuff, but it feels like his mom. It feels like he’s talking to her again. Tommy wonders if there’s a universe out there where his mom got help before it was too late. He eats his food in the camp chair that furnishes his pathetic living room, with Teddy invading his personal space and trying to sneak a bite for himself.
Tommy keeps the tradition of making himself Stovetop and canned cranberry sauce. He keeps it the year Howie shows up at the 118 and immediately proves himself braver and stronger than Tommy ever could be. While everyone else is busy whining about missing their grandma’s mashed potatoes, Tommy scrapes together his sacred traditional Thanksgiving feast. While Tommy’s not looking, Howie steals half of it.
“Mm!” Howie sighs, “That childhood nostalgia fakeness.”
“Hey! That was mine,” Tommy says, without any real heat. He hasn’t been able to muster anything beyond mild irritation for Howie since he saved his life.
“Oh, because you were going to eat all of that in one sitting,” Howie scoffs, “I’ll pay you back your dollar for my half if you really want.”
“No, it’s fine,” Tommy huffs, scraping out the other half for his own portion. They sit at the table and eat together, and it’s the closest Tommy’s ever had to spending Thanksgiving with someone.
It’s not until they finish eating and the bell rings that Tommy realizes Howie’s the only one who hasn’t asked Tommy if he’s sad he’s missing out on the holidays.
For the most part, his Thanksgivings after the 118 are spent much the same way, but at Harbor, and alone. He gets to put his leftovers in the fridge and eat off them for a few days. Thanksgiving (save for deep fried turkey incidents) is a relatively tame holiday. No fireworks, at least.
Then, Evan.
A lot of things change for Tommy when Evan crashes into his life, all legs and a blinding smile. Evan is a whirlwind and the most beautiful man Tommy has ever seen. Evan is kind of everything.
When Tommy realizes he’s falling in love, it makes him sick to his stomach. He remembers loving his dad enough to excuse his anger, loving his mom enough to let her slip away, loving a country enough to enact its violence, loving the sense of belonging at the 118 enough to allow the kindest people he’s ever met to suffer. Tommy doesn’t love right. He can’t let Evan get tired of him and leave. He can’t poison Evan until he turns into something cruel. So Tommy breaks up with him. Evan asks him to move in, and he can feel the iron jaws of a bear trap closing around his throat, so he breaks up with him.
Tommy doesn’t realize until later that he already asked for Thanksgiving off.
(Thanksgiving came up between them for the first time when Evan asked if he wanted to do their own thing or go over to the grand 118 Thanksgiving Feast.
“I don’t know,” Evan has shrugged, “I mean, I want to spend it with you. I don’t want to pressure you into a big thing if you don’t want to, or if—if you’re used to smaller Thanksgivings. What does your family do for Thanksgiving?”
“Um,” Tommy had said, a little caught off-guard like he was every time they brushed up against the topic of family, “We didn’t really celebrate Thanksgiving. I usually just get a box of Stovetop stuffing and a can of cranberry sauce and call it a day.”
Evan had scoffed, mock-offended. “Well! In that case, we’re going. Mark your calendar. You’re going to cream your pants when you try Bobby’s turkey.”
Tommy had smiled and thought maybe. Maybe this will be the year.)
Tommy sighs and opens the box of Stovetop stuffing. His water and butter are already boiling, so he pours the mix in and watches it saturate. He stirs it and takes it off the heat to sit. A strange, painful sadness claws at the inside of his throat. It hurts. It hurts worse than it usually does.
He doesn’t think about Evan and Bobby’s allegedly orgasm-worthy turkey and Howie introducing Tommy to Jee-yun and how close they had all seemed at the hospital for Denny. He walks over to the mantle above his fireplace, with a small, framed pawprint inside, and Teddy 2021 written underneath.
Five minutes passes slowly without anyone to distract him. Tommy tries and fails not to think about every holiday he’s spent alone, or wishing he was alone. This is the first holiday he’s wished for someone in particular who wasn’t his mom or Teddy.
Tommy eats stuffing and canned cranberry sauce at his kitchen table. Somewhere, Evan is in a house warm with love. Somewhere, Evan is loved, wholly and unconditionally. Tommy’s glad people love him. He deserves to be loved.
Tommy doesn’t like watching football on Thanksgiving, so instead he puts on Mean Girls. After his stomach settles, he’s too tired to do anything but crawl into bed and sleep until his shift in the morning.
When Tommy gets to work, he’s surprised when Lucy says, “Delivery for you in the fridge, Kinard, you better eat it before I can get my hands on it.”
Inside the fridge is a glass Tupperware container wrapped in a plastic Chinese takeout bag. There’s a sticky note attached to it that says Bobby’s turkey is even better the next day.
Tommy texts Evan and asks about it. Evan doesn’t say anything back.
But he does get a text from Howie, and the timing is too quick to be coincidence. When you’re reheating it, remember to put half a teaspoon of water in the dish so it doesn’t dry everything out in the microwave.
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undreaming-fanfiction · 10 months ago
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As a crazy cat lady, may I offfer...
Eddie who has always loved cats, how free and soft and elegant they are, how they purr and close their eyes in affection, how they make him forget all his worries and stress. He's loved them ever since a neighbor's cat found him crying behind the trailer after he got bullied for his new haircut, the last gift from his shitty dad before Eddie got whisked away by the social services. The cat ignored his sniffling and jumped in his lap, plopping herself over the bony knees and thin thighs, and when she started rubbing her face against his scraped palm, Eddie felt complete.
He can't adopt one yet because he lives with Wayne who is allergic. Wayne offers to take antihistamines but Eddie refuses, he doesn't want to inconvenience him in his own home. Still, he dreams of one day sometime in the future, a small apartment of his own and at least two cats who will greet him when he comes home.
Eddie finds himself volunteering in a shelter and when a new cat café opens, he jumps at the opportunity. He is hired and spends his days taking of their cat ensemble and preparing delicious coffees. Cats help him be less jittery and more grounded, so it's a win win. Eddie loves this job.
Enter Steve Harrington, an insanely handsome man who stops by to make a reservation. Eddie is his usual flirty self, although he expects Steve will bring a date and that's the end of that. But then Steve leans to Eddie and asks: "Listen, uh...I will need some help."
Suppressing an internal groan, Eddie asks: "what, do you need me to drop an engagement ring into the coffee or something? Because can do, but it needs to be sanitized first."
"Oh no. Not that, no..." Steve runs his fingers through his hair and even though it looks like a nervous gesture, Eddie is seconds away from a cuteness induced nosebleed. "Not at all. I just...I have a little sister, you know? I mean, my adoptive dad is fostering her and she's the kindest girl you've met, but she had it rough in her original family. Apparently there was something involving animals and...she loves cats so much, but is terrified of hurting them. She would never!" he clarifies when he sees a frown forming on Eddie's forehead. "It's just that whenever she showed affection to any animal, her biological father made sure it would get hurt or at least chased away. And that's gone, that man is in jail and I just...I want to show her that it's okay to love animals again. That she can pet a purring cat without worrying about its safety."
Eddie just stares at him with mouth open. "That's...wow," he says. "Sorry. Processing."
Steve does the hair thing again and laughs and Eddie thinks that this man deserves a brother of the year award, yep, he'll ask Gareth to 3D print one right fucking now. "Yeah, sorry. I didn't mean to dump all that on you, but I had to be honest because this is a big deal to her. To me as well. Just...listen, I like cats a lot, but I'm not the best at interpreting what they mean, their body language and all that. And I really need Jane to have someone here that can tell her what to do, when she's doing a good job...someone who will protect the kitties if she messes up. Her words. I know it's a lot to ask, but..."
But Eddie shushes him. "Say no more, big boy. I'll be here and I'll give the young lady the cat experience of a lifetime."
Eddie used to think he couldn't love his job any more. But with Jane's uncertain smile and big eyes, her incredulous squeal when a cat chose her for the first time, when she kept asking Eddie for specifics of each cat in his care - "which one is more shy, which one likes to be picked up, which one is a picky eater?" - he thinks he's finally found his calling. Steve beams at him and comes back the next day with a bag of approved cat treats for the cats and a box of chocolates for Eddie as a thank you, then asks him out for a dinner - "if that is even appropriate, shit, sorry, I don't want you to feel pressured or something, this is your job, I get it, but I just really admire you and you were amazing to Jane, uh, and the stuff you say about cats is so interesting I'd just love to hear more". Eddie's heart flutters like the traitor it is and he thinks - maybe this is someone I could adopt a cat with one day.
And unsurprisingly, he's right.
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yandereforme · 11 months ago
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Yan Jason x Joker’s Kid! Reader (Non-binary Reader)
You found out about your parentage when you were 16. Your mom, the woman who had raised you, had never indicated you weren’t her flesh and blood until that day.
Your mom had gone to school with Harley, and they had been close. They lost touch after a while, however, and didn’t see each other again until Harley was admitted to Arkham during her relationship with the Joker.
Harley hadn’t told anyone she was pregnant, and it was kept need to know. As far as most knew, she was being kept away from others due to illness.
When Harley gave birth, she asked your mom to raise you. Even though she was still somewhat blinded by her love for the Joker, she could still see that raising a kid with the Joker wasn’t a good idea.
Your mom was infertile, and had always wanted a kid. So, after that day, and after Harley was broken out of Arkham, your mom took you and left Arkham, only stopping to have a friend of hers forge papers making you her kid. Only five people knew about you, and her coworkers who helped deliver you died not long after, only leaving three to remember where you came from.
The reason your mom was telling you was because she had been diagnosed with an illness, and would require full time care in a facility, meaning you would have had to go into foster care, since your only ‘relative’ was your goon uncle, who would never be cleared to take care of you. She managed to sort out papers to emancipate you, but she knew that she couldn’t let you leave without his telling you the truth.
Fast forward to the Red Hood Era, you are a book shop owner, having inherited a building from your uncle when he died, and turned it into a bookshop, just on the edge of Crime Alley. You were known to offering homeless people jobs like delivering books or helping you stock shelves in exchange for food, money, clothes, and/or a place to sleep, depending on preference. Your good reputation with the street kids was what made Jason learn about you.
He decided to visit as Jason and make sure you didn’t have any nefarious purposes for your deeds. Not only do you two hit it off immediately, but you also care about the street kids, and aren’t taking advantage of their desperation.
Jason started visiting you every other day, often walking you home at night. He has a few of his men watch your house, and even has them make sure you get home safe when he can’t. However, he was still in heavy denial about his feelings….
Until the Joker Broke out of Arkham
Notes: In this au, the Batfam know Jason is Red Hood. Also, the Batfam will become yandere for you too, don’t worry. Probably won’t be posting much, I’m traveling a lot over the next couple weeks, but I will try. Let me know what you think!
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heavyhitterheaux · 1 year ago
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Ghost Part 1
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AN: everyone ignore the fact that it took me almost a year to finish this lol
Synopsis: You're an OnlyFans model that gets pregnant by none other than Jack Harlow, who runs at the first sign of taking responsibility for his actions. But soon enough, his responsibilities get to be too much for him to ignore
Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader
Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere
'I'm a good girl'
At least that’s what you told yourself 
But good girls didn't go to school by day and were a cam girl at night.
However, you were 
It was only for a little while
Just until you finished school
You needed a way to pay for it somehow
Besides the money was good and it kept a roof over your head
You admit that this wasn't your first choice in a career path obviously, but you had to do what you had to do in order to survive.
You had been in foster care since you were 9 because your parents and brother passed away in a car accident while you were the lone survivor
Your grandparents were older and they couldn't take care of you so that's when you went into the system 
Your aunt which was your mother's sister and your mother didn't get along and she said that there was no way in hell that she would take you and that you were someone else’s problem
I mean she did have five kids of her own to take care of, but to be that cold hearted to a nine year old?
You admit that you had survivor's guilt and would do anything to have all three of them here with you. But you knew that they would have wanted for you to have the best life that you could possibly have and that you were going to make sure of it. 
But if they were here, then maybe just maybe, your current life would be different.
You had dreams of becoming a preschool teacher since you were diagnosed at 15 with PCOS and you were told that your chances of getting pregnant were slim to none. It definitely hurt because since you didn’t have any immediate family left, that you wanted to have as many as you could. 
But you figured if you couldn’t have any of your own that you would teach them instead. If you could plant little seeds into their minds that will be able to set them up for greatness then you were all for it. 
You put on your newest lingerie set that was gifted to you by one if not your favorite supporter you would say who went by the name Mr.Missionary and was setting up your camera in order to get the perfect view.
One thing about you is that you never showed your face
Only thing they could see was from the neck down
You did that on purpose because the last thing you wanted was for someone to know what you looked like.
It wasn't the fact that you were embarrassed of what you did, but you wanted to remain as anonymous as possible so for the future, your career wouldn't be impacted. You could only imagine what would happen if someone found out what you had done in college when you were teaching their small children. It probably wouldn’t be good and the next thing that would probably happen is you being out of a job. 
You saw time and time again that happening to different people and that's one thing you did not want to deal with.
But, back to Mr. Missionary
He was a sweet talker and knew exactly what to say.
It all started with a message from him asking you if you were comfortable showing your face to him.
Since he had been supportive of you since day one, you figured why not. But also told him not to share any of the photos that you sent him to anyone else. 
So your jaw definitely dropped when you answered the incoming facetime call and was staring back at no one other than Jack Harlow.
The two of you would talk every week and you mentioned one time how you had never been off the east coast before and would love to go. Only Fans did pay well now that you had a lot of subscribers, but it hadn’t always been that way. However, you really only used the money for school and to make sure that you had a place to live. 
The semester had just ended and you weren't taking any classes during the summer so Jack offered to fly you out to L.A. to spend a week with him while he was recording new songs and you quickly said yes. 
This would happen periodically, him flying you out to different cities to meet him all summer long and soon you found yourself getting ready for the new semester to start.
You had about another year to go at Howard University in D.C. until you graduated with your degree in early childhood education while your friend Nadia was majoring in business administration.
The two of you met your freshman year and had been close ever since when you had to take a few prerequisite classes together.
She was from Louisville and was a big fan of Jack, but you didn't bother telling her what had happened between the two of you.
You signed an NDA anyway.
And since she had gone home for the summer, she had no reason for the thought to even cross her mind. 
But when you just so happened to go to your OB/GYN appointment you had gotten a huge surprise.
You were pregnant and apparently had been for three months.
Your period was irregular and you would often go for months without getting one so you thought nothing of it.
The first thing you did when you got back to your apartment was call Nadia and couldn’t help but to blurt it out.
"I'M PREGNANT!"
"Well first of all hello to you too and WHAT?!”
"I can't get pregnant! At least that's what I was told. They told me that when I was fifteen!"
"Well apparently you can. How far along are you?"
"Three months apparently and I had absolutely no idea. I wasn’t craving anything, no morning sickness, no nothing. None of the usual symptoms."
"Oh so when the semester ended, those legs were open for business, huh?"
"NADIA! BE SERIOUS PLEASE." You said while pacing around your bedroom. 
"Well, who's the father? Did you tell him?"
"Sooo, this is probably going to sound really bad." You muttered while pouring yourself something to drink.
You couldn’t see Nadia’s face, but you could just imagine how it looked. 
"I mean, how bad? You're an adult who can do what you want."
"Ummm…. He’s one of my supporters for my cam show."
"Y/N!!!! IS THAT WHY YOU WERE FLYING EVERYWHERE THIS SUMMER!? YOU WENT TO SEE HIM DIDN’T YOU? DO YOU KNOW HOW DANGEROUS THAT COULD HAVE BEEN?"
"Um, maybe and well, I didn’t die."
"What do you mean maybe?! It's either yes or no! And you didn’t die, but now you came back pregnant!”
"Uh, then yes."
"You need to tell him NOW. It’s his responsibility as much as it is yours."
"I will and then I'll call you back." You said while sighing. 
You didn't have enough courage to call him, but you needed to. It was better to get it over with sooner rather than later. 
You knew he was busy and decided to text him first.
You- Hey, call me when you get a chance 
Jack- I will right before I go to sleep tonight. Hopefully I can get another private show 😉
You didn't even bother responding and just waited for your phone to ring while working on assignments you had to do for class instead. 
Another thing you had to worry about now was graduating on time since you were now pregnant and would be due at the start of the last semester before you graduated. 
It was around 11:52 pm when your phone finally rang indicating an incoming facetime call from Jack.
"Hey pretty girl. I'm sorry it took me so long to call you.”
"Hey. It's okay, I was just studying while I waited.”  You quietly said and Jack was immediately eyeing you knowing that something was wrong.
"You okay?" Jack curiously asked while looking at your solemn expression.
"No, not exactly." You quietly responded while starting to fidget as you closed your textbook that was in front of you.
It was now or never.
"What's going on?"
You took a deep sigh before the words left your mouth. Might as well get it over with.
"I'm pregnant." 
Jack immediately went quiet and pinched the bridge of his nose before he said anything.
"I thought you said that you couldn't get pregnant and I always wore protection every time just in case."
"I thought so too and obviously you didn't."
"How do you know it's mine?" You immediately rolled your eyes.
"Didn't I spend basically the entire summer with you?"
"Some of it, not all of it. I don't know what you were doing when you weren't with me." Your jaw had hit the floor. He had some nerve.
"Don't do that. Why would I lie?"
"I'm being honest. Don't get mad at me for telling the truth. And why would you lie? Because I’m a millionaire the last time I checked, that’s why. Sounds like you tried to trap me." 
"Look, I just want them taken care of. AND EXCUSE ME? TRAP YOU? ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?"
"I still don't see what that has to do with me and yes trap me, you heard me the first time."
"Seriously? How could you even say that? I have given you no reason to think that about me."
“Well people can surprise you, everyday. Until I get a paternity test, I'm not believing anything."
That was about three years ago and nothing has changed since then.
You were basically a single mother and Jack popped in occasionally when he wanted to. 
Which wasn't often. 
You were struggling living on your own with no support system in D.C. and Nadia had convinced you to move to Kentucky to be near her so she could help out as much as she could. Her business was finally taking off and she told you that you could find a teaching job at one of the elementary schools since they were hiring for preschool teachers.
When Jack found out that you had moved to Louisville he was not only convinced that you trapped him, but now you were stalking him too.
He had no idea that you were in this by yourself, literally. No help from family or anything.
You could count on one hand how many times Jack had seen Ace since birth and you came to the conclusion that you were probably going to be a single mother and stopped asking him for anything. The last time that he had talked to you was almost two months ago. During that three minute conversation he didn’t even ask how his son was and he only lived less than fifteen minutes away from you.
After the paternity test was done and Jack was proven to be the father, he had accidentally left the paper out on the table and no one other than his younger brother Clay found it. He had questioned Jack about it and because Clay was holding the obvious proof in his hands there was no possible way for him to back out of it. Clay then took it upon himself to reach out to you because he wanted to meet Ace. He met him when he was a month old and at that time Jack had only been to see him once. Because of how he acted, you knew early on not to put his last name on Ace’s birth certificate.  
After moving to Louisville, you met two of Nadia’s close friends, Blaire and Liv. Blaire was a baker who had her own bakery and would have breakfast waiting for you every day for you and Ace before you dropped him off at daycare and went to the school to teach while Liv taught kindergarten at the same school where you were. All four of you had become extremely close, but none of them knew who Ace’s father was. 
Because you signed an NDA, all you ever told them was that he really wasn’t a part of his life and that you were doing this all on your own and they accepted that as an explanation, but it was only a matter of time before they found out the truth. You knew that they would all look at him differently because they were such big fans of him. Plenty of times they had asked you to go to his concerts with him, but you steadily declined, but they never questioned why. 
All Jack did was send money to help with daycare and that’s when he actually remembered to do it. You got a discount since it was actually in the same school as where you taught, but it was still expensive. Especially on the salary that you got.
It was currently almost four in the afternoon and Jack was supposed to pick Ace up to spend time with him and you were hoping that they would be able to spend more time together. You knew that his career was demanding and he was at the height of it, but you just wanted Ace to have a relationship with him. He told you that he would be coming around 2 and that he would take Ace to the Louisville basketball game later with the rest of PG and spend the weekend with him. 
From what you knew, Urban was the only one who knew about Ace and was guessing that this would be his opportunity to tell them. You sighed as you looked at your baby waiting at the door with his little backpack on wanting to see the moment his dad was going to come through the door. 
After a while, he just sat down and sighed which made your heart break.
“Mommy, daddy not coming is he?” He quietly asked you and all you did was sigh.
“We just have to wait and see, bub. Maybe daddy got busy and got caught up with doing something.” One thing that you were tired of doing was making excuses for Jack.
“Does daddy love me?” He looked up at you with tears in his eyes and you quickly sat down next to him and slid him into your lap.
It took everything in you not to cry right then and there, but immediately pulled out your phone to call him.
“Of course he does. Here, baby. Let’s call him to see where he is.”
You didn’t know if you were trying to convince Ace or convince yourself.
You put the phone to Ace’s ear and Jack actually picked up on the third ring which you were surprised by.
“Hello?”
“DADDY! Where you at? Still coming to get me?”
“Oh, hey little man. Um, something came up, but I promise to get you another day.”
“But you promised you were coming today. You said that last time.”
“I know, bubs but I’ve just been so busy.”
Not wanting for the conversation to go on any further, Ace handed the phone to you with tears in his eyes, threw off his backpack and ran down the hallway into his room.
“Ace!” You called after him, but he continued down the hallway. 
“Are you…..? Are you serious right now?! You made him cry because all you do is fucking lie to him and to me!” You took a deep breath before letting him have it. 
“Y/N, please don’t fucking start.” You heard him say before sighing and you could hear cheering going on in the background indicating that he was already at the game.
“Oh, I’m going to fucking start because he has been excited for this all week! Why would you bail on your son like that? You did the same shit last time. You begged me to come and see him and when I told you what time would work best, what did you do? Not even bother to show up. Either you want to be in his life or you don’t and you need to make a decision. Tired of my child constantly being disappointed in his father.”
“Look, I’ll talk to you later.” Jack said and then hung up without another word leaving you fuming from your conversation. 
You simply got up while grabbing Ace’s backpack and made your way to his room. Once you opened the door, you found him laying down with his head resting on his hands just staring off into space.
“Ace….”
“Mommy, can we just go to the park?” He asked not even mentioning what Jack had done.
“Sure, baby. Whatever you want. I also think that it’s a perfect day for ice cream. What do you say?”
At the mention of ice cream, Ace immediately perked up and eagerly nodded his head.
“Can I get chocolate chip cookie dough?”
“Whatever my Ace wants, he gets.”
Upon hearing this, he immediately smiled and you were happy that you could take his mind off of what his father had promised him, at least for a little while. 
Two weeks had passed and you were rushing to get both of you out of the door and to Blaire’s bakery for breakfast so that the two of you would at least have something on your stomach for the busy day ahead.
You had sent a text last night to Jack asking him to send you money for daycare for the month of October, but he never responded leaving you frustrated because you literally now only had 24 hours to come up with the money otherwise you weren’t quite sure what you were going to do.
Your Only Fans was still active, but that was a last resort.
While driving to the bakery, Ace fell asleep in the backseat when you decided to call him.
“Yes, Y/N? What now? I’m busy.”
“Good morning to you too. Did you get my text last night?” You asked after rolling your eyes at how he greeted you.
“Didn’t I just give you money for daycare? Why do you need more already?”
“You see, Jackman….”
“Don’t call me that.”
“That’s your name isn’t it? Given to you by your parents?”
“Look, what do you want? I’m in the studio.”
“No need to be rude. I need more money for daycare. I have to pay it every month.”
“Why the fuck is it so expensive? Got damn a round trip to L.A. is cheaper.”
“I don’t know, but I already get a discount and I have to pay it by tomorrow so can you just send it to me?”
“1600 dollars?!? That’s the discounted price? You have got to be fucking kidding me. They act like you have six fucking kids. He’s one person.”
“Just… can you do it or not? I wouldn't ask you unless I absolutely had to.” You asked, hating that you even had to do so.
“Yeah, I’ll send it and you better be using it for daycare and not something else. Because if I find out you did, you better not ask me for it again. Anything else you want to bother me about?”
“Ace is in the car. Do you want to say good morning to him?”
“Not really. I’ll call him later. Bye.”
“I-....”
Jack hung up without another word and all you did was shake your head at him and how your three year old is more well mannered than he is.
Once you pulled up to the bakery, Blaire met you outside on the curb and immediately ran to your window with a bag of food as well as two drinks. A hot chocolate for Ace and her specially made coffee for you. You swore that she put jet fuel in it and as many times as you asked her for the recipe, she never told you. 
It literally allowed for you to stay energized throughout the day and didn't even want to know how much caffeine was in it.
She handed you yours, while she opened Ace’s door and handed him his.
“Thank you, Auntie Blaire.” He quietly said before taking it and you looked back at him to see that he was pouting and Blaire immediately asked him what was wrong before you could.
“Daddy didn’t say good morning to me when he talked to mommy.”
Oh.
So he was awake.
“I’m just sure he was really busy. You can try calling him later once you get home, yeah?” She said to try and get a smile at him, but all he did was nod his head.
So much for getting a good start to the day.
Ace had been upset the entire time he was in daycare even when you went to go and check on him and brought a cookie as a peace offering which he wasn't excited by and thought that making his latest favorite dinner might take his mind off of it. 
You never in a million years thought that Ace would love to help you cook, but here you were. He told you that he wanted to be a chef when he grew up, so you obviously set him up with everything that he might need.
He told you on the way home that he wanted to make chicken parm with noodles so you stopped by the store to grab the ingredients.
Ace was wearing his apron that you had gotten him as a gift for his birthday which said Chef Ace on it and standing on his step stool to add salt to the boiling water for the noodles while you were finishing cutting up the chicken and about to start making the breading for it.
He didn't bring up for the rest of the day what had happened with Jack earlier, but you had a feeling that it was coming and more than likely it would be around bedtime. But for now, you were simply going to focus on spending time with your little one.
“Ace, do you want to grab the Italian seasoning for mommy to use?”
“Yes!”
He promptly moved his step stool to be in front of the spice cabinet and climbed up when there was a knock on the door.
Ace had handed it to you and stepped down before going to get a sip of juice out of his sippy cup.
“Be right back, bubs. Remember don't touch anything without mommy being in here with you. We don't need you getting hurt.”
“Okay, promise.” He quickly answered before taking another swig of his juice as you went to answer the door to come face to face with Nadia,  Blaire, and Liv.
“Heyyy. Blaire told us baby daddy troubles this morning sooooo…. We brought wine and lemon cake that Blaire made for Ace.” Nadia said as she held up the wine and Liv held up the cake and all three of them were smiling back at you.
“You guys didn't….”
“Shut up and let us in. Yes we did and what is our little chef making tonight?” Liv asked as you moved to the side and let them in while closing the door behind you.
“Chicken parm and salad and Blaire’s cake can be added to that now.”
“HI AUNTIES!” You heard Ace as he ran full speed towards the four of you.
“Auntie’s baby!” Nadia exclaimed as she opened her arms to engulf him into a hug.
“Food should be about done in another thirty minutes.”
“Well until then, we have the wine to keep us occupied.”
After gushing over how good the meal was along with Blaire’s lemon cake, Nadia pulled out her phone and shoved it towards you.
“What am I looking at?” You asked her as Ace had climbed into your lap.
“Jack Harlow and his No Place Like Home concert. I thought I would get tickets for all of us to go.”
Ace then peered at her phone and got a confused look on his face.
“Oh, that's daddy!”
Silence.
Looks of shock.
Looks of disbelief.
Nadia, Liv, and Blaire knew how intelligent Ace was so they didn't think that this would be something that he would lie about all while trying to wrap their heads around it.
When no one said anything, Ace turned to look at you.
“Are we going to call him before I go to sleep?”
“Um, sure bubs. We’ll call him. Do you want to go and pick out a book for us to read tonight before we do?”
He eagerly nodded before hopping down off your lap and heading to his bookshelf in his bedroom.
All you did was sigh and wait for the interrogation to begin.
Nadia was first.
“Y/N!!!!! I…. WHAT!?”
“Do not say anything because the last thing I need is him finding out that other people know.”
“He is a literal ASSHOLE to you and Ace. The mother of his son and his actual son. All the shit that you’ve told us he’s done!?! Or hasn't done for that matter.” Liv exclaimed as she poured herself another glass of wine.
“So that's who was flying you out that summer?”
You simply nodded.
“Y/N…..”
“Look, I don't need the looks of pity. I’m fine, my son is fine and that's all that matters. We’re going to be okay with or without him.”
Blaire who had been quiet the entire time simply shook her head.
“I can always call my brothers to jump him.”
“NO, BLAIRE!”
“The offer still stands. Just say the word.” She replied while shrugging.
“I know how you three love his music so get the tickets and have fun. Me and Ace will be okay.”
“No. One band, one sound bitch. If you have beef with Jack Harlow, so do we.” Nadia said while crossing her arms. 
“Come to think of it… Ace does look an awful lot like him.”
“All I can do every day when we go out is pray that no one notices. I have to protect him and it’s sad that I actually have to do it from his father.”
It was around 7 PM when you had finished giving Ace a bath and had finished reading the book that he picked out earlier to him when he asked to call Jack.
“Can we call daddy now?” He asked looking up at you hopeful and all you did was give him a small smile.
“Of course we can.”
You grabbed your phone and attempted to call Jack on facetime while handing it to Ace.
All it did was continuously ring and you saw the pout on Ace’s face become more pronounced.
“Maybe, he’s just busy, bubs.” You quietly said before you took your phone back and the look of disappointment across his face broke your heart.
“He’s always busy, mommy.”
“But, at least you get to spend the day with him tomorrow! That’s something to be excited about. Do you have any idea about what you want to do?”
Jack had begged you to come and get him tomorrow to make up for not taking him to the basketball game with him and as much as you felt that he was going to go back on his word, but you were willing to give him another chance. But the chances were slowly running out.
“No, I’m just sleepy.”
“Okay, let’s get tucked in so we can sleep.”
Once you had gotten Ace settled, you went into your room and logged onto your banking app to see that Jack in fact did send you the money to pay for daycare and you let out a sigh of relief that you didn’t realize that you had been holding. 
Ten minutes later, you got a text from him.
Jack- I’ll come and get him tomorrow. Be there around nine. 
Hopefully this was a way for him to redeem himself for not showing up the other day and prayed that he would follow through. 
You were tired of seeing your child disappointed. 
The next morning after getting Ace ready, Clay came to get him and you would say that you were surprised that it wasn’t Jack, but that would be a lie. Ace was still excited to see Clay, so the last thing you wanted to do was upset him. You got to have a full day to yourself which you hadn’t had in a while.
Your time was spent going to the mall, seeing a movie, and even going to your favorite restaurant by yourself.
You made sure to soak this all in because you didn’t know the next time that you would be able to get another opportunity to do this and spend your time and money on yourself.
It was around 5 PM when Clay dropped off Ace who you could tell was still on a sugar high since he was running around the apartment and not able to keep still for three minutes when you got on the topic of Clay’s brother since you knew that it was inevitable. 
"Clay, I have given him chance after chance to do right by him and he literally disappoints me and him every time." 
"I know and I'm…."
"No. Do not apologize for him. If he could have just seen his face when he promised to come and get him to go to the game with all of you and to have a cooking date and he didn't show. Like my baby was bawling with tears running down his face and asked me does daddy even love me? Clay my heart can't take too much more of this. This has been going on for way longer than it should have. My son is my entire world and he deserves a father in his life that wants to be consistent and be there for him. I don't think Jack will ever get there." 
"So I guess I shouldn't tell you that he still hasn't told our parents about you or Ace?" Clay asked while scratching the back of his neck.
You then looked at Clay in disbelief as Ace came up on your left side and lifted his hands up to indicate he wanted to be picked up by you or his uncle and Clay quickly did. 
"Your brother is just full of surprises isn't he? You're more of a father to him than he is."
"Reality hasn't hit him yet."
"It doesn't take three years. It's just crazy how you were the only one who welcomed him with open arms, but then again you had already saw the DNA results so you had no choice but to believe me. I guess Jack never thought in his wildest dreams he would sleep with a cam girl and end up with a kid."
Just then your phone went off indicating a text from the man of the hour.
Jack- Y/N, I know you're mad at me but I promise to get him next time.
You- Don't even worry about it. Once again your little brother is stepping up and doing what you should have done. So much that he actually called him dad the other day. Think about that.
You saw Jack would start texting and then stop indicating that he didn't have a good comeback for that one.
How could he?
It had been a quick slip up a few weeks ago by Ace, but Clay simply brushed it off and thought nothing of it. You remembered him saying to Ace, ‘Well we do look alike, don’t we?’ And he quickly agreed.
And just then your phone went off indicating Jack was calling you.
"What?" You asked as you rolled your eyes.
"I'll be outside in 20 minutes and I want to see my son."
Once you hung up, Clay turned to you and asked you what he said.
“He said that he wants to see him, but my thing is that if you really did want to see him then you would have gotten him earlier. The last thing he better do when he comes in here is make a scene.”
Twenty minutes didn’t even pass before you heard knocking on the front door and you immediately rolled your eyes before getting up to answer it.
Once you did, Jack was clearly annoyed and was looking right past you to see where Ace was.
“Where’s my son?”
“Oh, so now he’s your son? Are there certain days of the week that you claim him or?”
“Y/N, I’m not doing this with you right now, where is Ace?”
“He’s with your brother in the kitchen if you must know and you better not go in there and make him upset.”
“Now, why would I make him upset?”
“I don’t know, you tell me. Since all he knows you’re good for is disappointing him.”
Jack didn’t even bother to respond as he walked past you to come face to face with Clay playing with Ace.
Once Ace saw him, he quickly ran to hide behind Clay.
“Bubs, it’s me, daddy. No reason to be scared.”
All Ace did was peek out behind Clay’s leg who was trying to also tell him that it was okay.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t come and get you today, but I promise that I will next time.”
This led to Ace shaking his head no and holding onto Clay’s leg tighter.
“Ace, what’s the matter?” Jack asked seeing as Ace had never acted this way towards him before.
“Daddy, you forgot about me….. Again.”
“I… I didn’t forget. Daddy’s just been really busy, but I’m here now.”
“Maybe if you actually showed up when you were supposed to this wouldn’t be happening.” Clay snapped at Jack as Ace quickly ran to you and you picked him up as he hid in the crook of your neck.
“Clay, I already get it enough from Y/N, I don’t need to hear it from you too.”
“Well obviously you do, because hearing it from one person obviously isn’t enough! Now, why is your kid calling me daddy? Oh, right. Because his real dad actually ignores him.” Clay said while raising his voice at his older brother.
“I DON’T IGNORE MY SON!”
“WHEN IS THE LAST TIME YOU ACTUALLY SPENT TIME WITH HIM? I’VE SEEN HIM MORE TIMES SINCE HE’S BEEN ALIVE THAN YOU HAVE!”
At their heated exchange, Ace began to cry and you knew that you needed to put a stop to this immediately.
“Okay, you two, we’re done. Jack, get out.”
“If I leave, I’m taking Ace with me.”
“You are not taking MY son anywhere. Can’t you see how upset you made him? And I told you once you step foot in here not to upset him and you did the exact opposite. Just leave. You've done enough.”
Jack had let out a frustrated sigh as he was contemplating his next move. He stepped towards you, but was immediately blocked by Clay stepping in front of you.
“Just do what she asked you to do and leave.”
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pluto247 · 8 months ago
Text
The Four Mistakes - pt 1
Katie McCabe x Reader
Warnings: Physical violence
I was by far the youngest player on the Arsenal squad at 17. I signed with Arsenal about a year ago when my foster parents decided that they did not want to have me in the house anymore. So when Jonas called and said that he wanted permission to have me sign a professional contract with Arsenal they immediately said yes. I was fine with that, they only gave me the bare minimum to take care of me besides signing me up for soccer. That is the only thing they did for me that I appreciated, even if it was to have me out of the house more often. 
I obviously could not live on my own, so I moved in with Katie McCabe. Jonas thought it would be nice for me to live with another Irish person. Probably thought it would make the transition a little easier for me, and it did. I feet comfortable living with her and cooper (I absolutely love cooper, he is the bestest boy). Living with Katie felt like home, I know that seems cliché but it was, she was like the older sister I never had. She cared for me, loved me and made me feel special. So after a year of living with Katie, I asked her to become my legal guardian and when she said yes I was ecstatic. I don’t think anything could top that feeling.
My foster parents were more than happy to transfer all legality to Katie, they never truly cared other than the fact that it made them feel better about themselves to adopt me. So when the day came that everything had finally gone though, and she was officially my legal guardian, I felt complete. 
******
Training had just finished up, and Katie was finishing getting ready to leave the locker room.
“Kid, are you coming home with me?” She looked over while grabbing her bag.
“No, I think I am going to study in the media room for a little bit. You know if I go home I will get distracted by the boy and not finish my homework. I need to finish my physics homework tonight so I can be on track to finish this module.” 
“Alright, let me know when you finish up and I can meet you halfway. I have to feed cooper and do our laundry.”
“Ok, I will.”
“See ya in a bit kid.” Katie finished, coming up to me and messing with my hair
“God Katie, I just brushed my hair!” I say while pushing her away, while she left the locker room.
“She only does it because she loves you.” Viv stated
“I know she at least likes me, but could she do it in a less annoying way?”
“Uh, no. Annoying is her love language.” Viv fired back. “Alright, good luck on your studies.” She said standing up.
I waved her and Beth goodbye and made my way to the media room. School was honestly quite easy for me, so when Jonas said that I needed to complete high school I was fine with it. I actually quite enjoyed it, especially since I was in an online school. I could do my coursework whenever and I didn’t have to interact with teenagers my age. So, I dove right into my homework. I was brought out of my head by hearing my phone ring, I blinked for what felt like the first time in two hours. I picked up the phone.
“Kid, are you coming home soon? It is dark outside.” 
“Shit, right. Sorry, I will pack up right now.”
“Oi, thats a pound in the swear jar.”
“That is so unfair, you curse all the time!”
“Just because I do it, doesn’t mean that you can do it.”
“What do you mean? That is totally how it works.”
“No swearing! What would Kim think? Anyways, do ya still want to walk or do ya want me to come get ya in the car?”
“Kim is Scottish, she doesn’t care and if we can still walk that would be nice, I need to stretch my legs a little bit, they are stiff.”
“Yea thats good, I will meet ya halfway. See ya soon kid.”
“See ya soon Katie.”
With that I hung up, finished packing up my bag and put it in my locker. I didn’t really like to do any school work at home because I always get distracted by other things I could be doing, like petting cooper or talking with Caitlin. Caitlin had made plans to hang out with Steph and Kyra earlier so she would not be at Katie’s, which was quite upsetting because Caitlin lets me pick the evening show whereas Katie puts on football every single night. 
Katie's house was only a twenty minute walk from the Arsenal facility and I was thankful that Katie allowed me to have some independence and walk around by myself. It made me feel like I was an adult without actually being an adult and have to worry about adult type things, if you know what I mean. The only thing that she required was that you not walk home by myself in the dark, so she always meets me halfway after the afternoon study session I so often did. 
I was in my own little world thinking about what I needed to finish tomorrow to still be on track to finish the module. That was my first mistake. 
All of a sudden I feel pressure on the back of my neck, and the next thing I know, I am being dragged into an alley and slammed face first into a brick wall. I grunted in pain as I tried to gather my bearings and understand what was happening. The right side of my face was being pushed into the brick wall, and there was still the pressure on the back of my neck.
“Oi, listen closely ya wee lass. Give me all your money and I won’t hurt ya.” A scruffy deep voice said
“I think it is a little late to not hurt me ya bastard.” I retorted. This was my second mistake
I hear a deep growl and that's when I feel myself being spun around, my back now roughly being forced into the brick wall. The pressure on the back of my neck moving to the front of my neck, redistricting my airflow just enough to be bothersome. I could see the man now, he looked homeless, he had a scraggly beard and wild eyes. The thing that really caught my attention was the knife he had in his right hand. This was bad, so bad. Silently, I was hoping Katie was just around the corner so that this interaction stops sometime soon.
“Don’t be a cunt now, give me all your money” He said, waving the knife in front of my face
“If ya would have asked nicely, then maybe, but ya threatened me ya dickhead. So no!”  I responded coarsely. That is when I made my third mistake, I raised my right hand and decked him as hard as I could. Honestly, this wasn’t the smartest move on my part given the current situation, but there was no way I was backing down now and showing weakness.
He stumbled back away from me, dazed. He had let go of me and I took a much needed gulp of air. He turned back slowly toward me looking a lot more unhinged than I could have thought. It made me afraid, so deathly afraid of what he might do to me now.
“Ya little shite, ya gonna regret that!” He yelled as he raised his knife. I tried to back up, but my back met the brick wall. 
I was cornered, shit. He lunged, trying to stab me in the leg. I tried to grab his wrist and prevent any stabbing but I missed, and the knife went straight through my right hand. Everything from that point on went in slow motion. I was so shocked that I  had a knife in my hand that I made the mistake of looking down at my hand. That was my fourth mistake.
 The man took that moment to punch me in the face with enough force to cause me to stumble and land on the ground. With my body against the wall, the man started to repeatedly kick me in the ribs. This was it, this is how I die. Attacked by a homeless man, I wasn’t even a legal adult. How could this be happening to me? The attack seemed to last a lifetime, but in actuality it was probably only a few seconds. Then all of a sudden, it all stopped.  
It took me a couple of seconds to look up, afraid he was waiting for me to look up. However, when I did you look I saw Katie absolutely demolishing this man with no clear intentions of stopping. She was repeatedly wailing on this man like her life depended on it. 
“Katie…” I managed to quietly voice. I am not even sure how she heard as I barely heard myself. But she was next to me in a second, cradling my face gently in both her hands. Her right hand, bloodied and bruised.
“Kid, oh my god. Are ya ok? Shit, um let's hurry up and get ya to a hospital.” She rushed to say, her voice strained holding her emotions at bay.
She helped me to your feet, it hurt like a bitch. My ribs were at least bruised, if not broken. I was incredibly unsteady so she wrapped an arm around my waist to support me. I leaned heavily on her as we hobbled down the alley in the direction of home.
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eff4freddie · 7 months ago
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After She Left | One
Joel Miller x AFAB Reader Ongoing
Words: 3k Two | Series Masterlist
Series Summary: You've lived in Jackson a long time, finding a sanctuary of comfort and predictability at the end of the world. As Jackson's only teacher, your role is to foster the curiosity of the youngest residents. Including the newest arrival, Ellie, and her weirdly cranky not-Dad, Joel. They threaten to upend your life more than any fungus. Series Warnings: slow burn, smut, Ellie being a little shit but we love her, friends to lovers, grief and loss, complicated feelings, canon-typical violence, Joel is a good dad, Joel has a complicated history, so do you Minors DNI 18+
Chapter warnings: Canon typical violence, reader is a little ambivalent about being alive, grief and loss, no Joel yet but he will make his appearance next chapter
You’d been 18 when the world ended. Surviving the first few days thanks entirely, as it turned out, to your baby sister’s gluten intolerance, you’d boarded the back of a military truck with a bag of your belongings and her little hand tucked into yours. You’d been separated from your parents, their truck ahead of yours, and when it veered off in the other direction on the highway you never saw them again. You heard rumours about what happened to the other trucks, and if you allowed yourself any time to consider them you knew in your gut they were true. You’d known the moment your mum and dad’s lives were snuffed out, because you’d felt it in your chest, miles and miles away. You didn’t burn candles for them on the windowsill in the hope that they would find their way back.  
Old enough to get drafted into FEDRA, smart enough to stick around until the shit started hitting the fan, you kept your head down and your mouth shut and lasted years, until you were finding yourself lying more and more to your commanding officers just to keep yourself safe, to keep the people you cared tucked out of the watchful eye of your superiors. Until you were slipping scared families out the perimeter and wondering how long before you joined them.
Not long, as it turned out. You were 32 when the world ended, again. When your sister contracted something nasty, cut herself on a fence or stepped on a nail, the infection coursing red and angry up her veins towards her heart. There were no antibiotics, another shipment was due in a few weeks, but all of the higher ups were stockpiling, knowing that their time was limited, that eventually they would come to need the supplies to barter for their lives. You tried all your connections, you worked every rank you had to get her some, and when you failed you carried her into the bathtub and poured boiling water into the wound, her wasting body too exhausted to howl in agony at the burn. She died as you held her hand, stretched out on the bathroom floor beneath her. It was a mercy for her, you knew, and your penance for having propped up a cruel system, for having played a part in it at all.  
You carried her body to the centre of the QZ, not letting her burn in the pyres built for the infected, not letting her mix in with the crawling vines. You laid her at the bottom of the steps to FEDRA HQ and left her there, the entire QZ peeking out from behind their curtains to witness her, a signpost at the edge of an impermeable, intractable border; who you had been, who you had become.
You were threatened with hanging, and you didn’t care. Your patrol partner packed your bag for you and smuggled you out, your QZ-issued rifle strapped to your back. You had left the QZ without even really knowing it, your partner hissing at you to just keep moving as he pulled back the barbed wire to let you through, and you did what you had been doing since you were drafted, which was just exactly what you were told.
You stumbled through the landscape, all amygdala and hind-brain, alone and unable to feel anything but the absence, but the loss. Knee-deep in a ravine you contemplated filling your bag with boulders and letting it pull you down into oblivion. You were never sure, even years later, why you didn’t. It scared you that there was something you couldn’t name, were never sure what it was such that you could ever rely on it to be there again.
You kept going. You were reasonable enough with your rifle, and you ate what you killed, and you stayed on the move. Headed west because you liked following the sun as it set, feeling like you were trudging towards an end of something. You passed camps, watching for the warm glow of fires or smoke on the horizon and heading in the other direction. You’d heard about raiders, about the weird religious cults that had set themselves up all over the country. As the trees thickened up, as the paths became more overgrown, you grew less and less cautious, began to feel like it was just you and the sky. You did well, considering you didn’t know why you were bothering, or where you were going. Some days you sat in the warmth of the sun and let it filter down to your bones. Some days you were so weary, so heavy, that you slumped against trees with your bag strapped to your chest and let your mind empty itself completely. You knew that if you pressed too hard and too long on a limb it would go numb.
--
Before the end of the world your family had gone camping every summer, and out here you felt more connected to them then you had in years. You couldn’t be sure how long you travelled, but you watched the leaves going brown and red on the canopy overhead. Your Dad had taught you enough to survive until the cold came, you realised. Your entire knowledge of the wilderness ending with the summer solstice. You had no plan to survive the winter, nothing other than a tarp you would string up between trees for shelter, a box of matches you fought tooth and nail to keep dry. You didn’t mind the idea of your story ending out here, found yourself ambivalent about it. If there was a place to wink out of existence it would be here, alone with the birdsong and the gradually freezing dirt beneath you. You had done well to last this long, had picked up more than you’d realised in your years with FEDRA, in the end of the world.
The nights though, were different. You found you could be philosophical about your impending death in the daylight, but as the nights grew colder and the chill got into your bones you were forced to consider the realities of this particular kind of end. You remembered reading about hypothermia in school, that people go mad from it, from the cold and the disorientation as their body temperature drops, as their muscles stop working. That they go delirious, suddenly feel like they’re burning up, strip off all their clothes and hasten their deaths. You didn’t particularly want to be found naked, didn’t particularly wanted to be found at all.
You started keeping the fire going in the darkness, knowing your Dad would admonish you if he was there, tempting fate and the lurking dangers right to your feet. It wasn’t like you had all that many alternatives. You hoped that when you saw him he would understand.
So it was on one particularly cold night, when the wind whipped the branches above you and rippled the long grass, that you were joined at your fireside. You had heard the rustle of the footsteps, had your rifle over your lap. You were eating the last of the rabbit you’d snared the day before. You wanted to go with a full belly, wanted the victory of at least not having starved.
‘You out here alone?’ the voice said from the darkness, and you raised your hands above your head.
‘Yes,’ you said, your voice rusted over from disuse.
‘You hurt?’ the man said, and you were surprised by this line of questioning.
‘No?’ you answered, peering into the darkness over the fire. You could see that he was holding a gun on you, that he was peering at you through its sight. You weren’t afraid of him. The fire was warm on your face.
‘You’re out here alone in the night and you’re not hurt?’ he answered, and you nodded. ‘Why you out here at all?’ he asked, and you sighed, dropping your hands to your sides.
‘That’s a long and boring story,’ you said, and you watched as he stepped forward, sensing you were neither a threat nor treating him as one.
‘That’s FEDRA issued,’ he said, gesturing to your rifle. You nodded. ‘Kansas?’
‘Chicago,’ you replied.
‘Heard things aren’t great in Kansas.’
‘As opposed to everywhere else’, you said. You saw him grin at you. As he came closer you could make out his black hair, his wiry frame. He looked tired and cold, but better fed then you. You might be able to outrun him, but not out-muscle him. Were you in any way inclined.
‘You’ve made it far,’ he said, and you shrugged.
‘Have I?’
‘Yes ma’am.’ You noticed his southern twang, and you liked it more than you expected. ‘Tommy,’ he said, pointing to his chest. He regarded you for a moment more. ‘If you’re lost in the darkness…?’ he asked, his eyebrows raised.
‘What?’ you asked, and he shrugged his shoulders.
‘Nothin’, he said. ‘Just…wondering.’
For a long moment you examined each other. He had an entire pack on his back, a rolled-up swag and a knife on his belt. He swung his gun over his shoulder, an older rifle, duct tape strapping it together in places. You looked down at yours in your lap. You wondered if he was out of bullets, too.
‘Mind if I sit?’ he asked, coming forward again, his hands in the air. ‘Just want to get warm, the cold is bitin’ tonight.’
You put your hands on the barrel of your rifle, and he watched them, gently. ‘Ain’t gonna hurt ya,’ he said, and you swallowed. Maybe you wanted him to. You weren’t sure anymore.
‘Haven’t really been around anyone for a while,’ you said, because you were starting to realise you were being awkward, had forgotten how to be a person when all you’d been doing for months was hanging out with trees.
‘You don’t wanna,’ he said, and you smiled.
‘You included?’ you asked.
‘Nah,’ he said, raising his palms to the fire. ‘M’alright. We all done things, I guess.’
You didn’t particularly want to think about those things. Truth be told you hadn’t actually done that much, had made a fucking terrible FEDRA soldier, kept trying to do community liaison and relationship building to the ire and suspicion of your commanding officers. You’d tried to argue that people would trust them more, that there would be better outcomes for everyone that way, that FEDRA had a duty, something something serve and protect.
They had told you, quite squarely, that no one gave a flying fuck about trust.
Which wasn’t to say you hadn’t been around death; you had, it was everywhere. You had witnessed hangings, had seen people beaten to death in the streets, never really knowing if it was at the hands of civilians. But you’d never been selected for the quarantine centre, rarely had to venture outside the gates to patrol. You’d been on cleanup, had been on curfew, had stood at the top of the gates and stared at the perimeter until your eyes watered. But you weren’t a killer, as much as your superiors wanted you to be. They couldn’t put you on the line where you might hesitate. For the longest time you had been ashamed of it, had considered it a weakness. Out here in the long grass you felt your 19-year-old self take you into her arms and forgive you for it.
‘Where you headed?’ he asked, and you shook your head.
‘Stayin’ put,’ you said.
‘Out here? There’s nothin’ out here.’
‘I’m here,’ you said, and you were feeling like you wouldn’t mind if he just left you to it, actually. Shot you and took your stuff. Whichever, just to get it done.
‘You know, there’s a group of people you might be interested to meet,’ he said, and you gawped at him.
‘What about me right now makes you think I want to meet anyone?’ you asked, and he chuckled.
‘People are trying to turn the tides, on FEDRA, on the whole…QZ situation. You have any…unrest back in Chicago?’
You had heard whispers of uprisings in other QZs, of little pockets of resistance. Things were going badly in some of them, Kansas having to get more brutal to keep things under control.
‘Nothing organised,’ you said.
‘Mmm. I came from Boston, things are getting…hotter out there. I’m on my way, actually, trying to-’
‘Don’t recruit me, don’t even bother,’ you said. ‘I’m not one for community life.’
Even as you said it you knew that wasn’t true. There had been families in the QZ, little kids born behind walls and not knowing any different, their laughter reminding you of when your sister was their age. You’d brought supplies for families struggling to get to the breadline, held the hands of scared women as their husbands were sent outside the walls on patrol. Had got a widow and her two kids smuggled out on a supply run, a ransom in ration cards to get them tucked safely in the back of a truck and carried over the threshold. You had always wanted to help people, and you’d done it, had been good at it. You considered the fact that all this time alone had made you drift further from your centre then you’d noticed at the time.
‘If it doesn’t work out,’ Tommy continued, ‘I heard of another place. Out in Wyoming. You could get there before winter.’
You gazed at him, your face aching from having talked so long to another person. You clicked your jaw.
‘Why you tellin’ me that?’ you asked. He leant over to his pack, pulling out a map and marking it with dirt under his nail.
‘You didn’t shoot me on sight,’ he said, and he grinned at you. ‘There’s still a bit of the South in me, darlin’, and where I come from, we don’t leave women alone in the night without a way home.’
You felt a little turn of something in your belly, a flickering. The way he spoke made you nostalgic for the old world, for the time when a sentence like that wasn’t either insane or suicidal. You waited for the other shoe to drop, for him to laugh at you, for him to lash out. You took the map in your hands, felt the quiver in them, realised with considerable surprise you were nervous. Something, some feeling, was returning back to your aching limb.
--
It wasn’t that you had been a particularly strong student, back when schools were a thing. It wasn’t even that you really liked teaching, it was just that you quite liked kids, and the teenagers almost as much, and you liked to read and could kind of remember some chemistry, and you weren’t all that good on a horse. Barely in Jackson a week and you found yourself at the front of the all-ages classroom, trying to figure out how to explain the before times, trying not to wonder whether there was any point.
You’d made it just as winter set in, not really believing this little ramshackle town would exist even as you stepped through the gate. You could see that it had been a gated community in the before times, that work was going on to sure it up, to expand it. The original gates were being replaced and patrolled, and you offered to keep watch, the setting familiar to your time in the QZ. Maria, the daughter of the founder and chair of the Town Council, politely and kindly explained they didn’t let newbies protect the perimeter until they were proven. You understood what she was telling you. Until they were sure you wouldn’t go postal and mow them down in their beds.
You shared your first house with two other women, each of you having your own room. Maria had apologised, as if she hadn’t gifted you a chance at another life, and you almost laughed in her face. In the QZ you had shared a two-bedroom apartment with four other soldiers. This was an insane amount of space, of safety, enough that you felt lost in it, swamped by it, sleeping out on the couch some nights just to be closer to your roommates’ doors.
Maria promised more buildings were coming, and you could hear the sound of construction, of manual labour, every hour there was light. When you started at the school, you’d only had six students, total, but within a year you had eight. You moved into your own house, took shifts on the perimeter on nights when you weren’t teaching in the morning. You stayed close to your roommates, even as they all moved out on their own, ate in the mess hall and sometimes had a nip in the Tipsy Bison before bed. You waited, all that time, for the other shoe to drop, for the town council to turn despotic, for the peace to crack.
You celebrated your 34th birthday with a cake baked by your students, carefully avoiding the lumps of sloppily mixed batter in the pan. You felt yourself grow a little soft around your middle, watched the lines carve into the skin around your eyes. You met and grew bored with a couple of men around the place. Watched your best friend grow round with her baby, read books to her bump as she gave you shit for trying to teach a foetus.
You vouched for Tommy when he arrived, scraggly and worn and far less idealistic, making up a lie that you had heard of him from your time in the QZ, of the infamous best-shot-in-Boston, of the man with the perfect aim. You weren’t sure what it was that made it possible for him to stay; your outlandish tales, Maria’s instant attraction, or just the fact that he used to be a contractor before he was in the army, two facts you’d wished you’d known before you’d launched into an implausible and highly emotive treatise for him to stay. You had convinced no one, but Tommy had admired your attempt, and you’d let him crash in your spare bedroom until he got his own place. You watched the way Maria’s eyes followed him when he walked through town. It just so happened that he got his place faster than any other arrival you’d seen.
You had a couple more birthdays, watched the town grow to total self-sufficiency, to house an entire community. You watched the seasons turn from atop Jackson’s walls, your eyes trained on the horizon, thinking of how you were going to try and teach the periodic table in the morning. Thought back to the long grass and the tall trees, of a time when you were alone and travelling without a destination, of a time when you wanted to fade into the air around you, release your atoms back to the universe that created them.
You turned your face to the stars, crisp and clear in the night sky over Jackson. Informed your family they’d need to keep waiting, just a little while. Taglist (let me know if you'd like me to add you) @harriedandharassed
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hornedmonsters · 5 months ago
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GoT Drogon x Reader - Jaelous - light nsfw
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Warnings: Jealousy, Possessive, Drogon is a shapeshifter, but only you know it. Mention of sex - English ist not my native language
Synopsis: Dany, Jon Snow and you wanted to go for a ride with the dragons, but one dragon didn't like the Stark bastard getting too close to you and he showed it clearly during the ride - as well as later in your chambers.
You put on a warm coat with fur today. It was freezing outside and you were sometimes a frostbite, which is why you welcomed any fabric on your body. But at the same time you liked the cool weather, it was nice compared to the hot summer days when you could hardly sleep because of the heat.
You were traveling in the north and Dany had the great idea to let Jon ride one of her dragons. Not Drogon, of course. He had been looking at Jon suspiciously the whole time and you could feel his amber eyes on your small form. You felt warm. As soon as Jon and you started talking, Drogon growled dangerously and mimicked running towards Jon. He immediately backed away, pure fear in his eyes. Understandably so. At his young age, Drogon was already an astonishing size and the earth shook as the dragon came to a halt.
Dany watched the scene in amazement, but somehow amused. She knew that her dragon also had a bond with you and she was fine with that. But she was also surprised because as far as she knew, you had no Targaryen blood in you. Drogon could kill you instantly with a small flame, but he did not.
He was skeptical of you, but he had apparently gained your trust after a short time, which was quite impressive. If only Dany knew that her dragon wasn't a normal dragon, but a shapeshifter. And if only she knew that a month after your first meeting, Drogon had rudely fucked you against the wall of your chamber to claim you as his. Before you could even raise an objection, but he didn't care. He had seen you as a potential partner and had to claim you. You had to admit to yourself that he was really gentle with you at first because he didn't want to hurt you, but once you were able to take his cock so well, he didn't hold back.
Drogon was dominant, ambitious and knew his worth. He knew who he was and what he was entitled to, whether in dragon form or as a human. If his brothers got too close, he growled. Viserion backed away immediately, but Rhaegal was less than impressed by his eldest brother. He just looked at him mockingly. Rhaegal would have been ready to take you on with Drogon, but since Drogon had already marked you as his, he let it go.
On rides, Dany usually let you ride Viserion. He was the gentlest of the brothers and took good care of you, but Drogon's eyes were on you at all times. He would act immediately if anything happened to you and it didn't suit him at all that that little bastard was getting so close to you. Jon Snow. A growl came out of his throat and when he saw how close he was getting to you, he had to scare him.
The Nordic man's terrified face made him grumble with pleasure. It satisfied his sadistic side and if this man wasn't so close to his foster mother, he would have burned him to the ground or torn his head off long ago.
“Hello Drogon,” you chuckled and placed your hands on his scaly cheek. Your eyes met and his pupil widened. He visibly relaxed and you could feel him lean against your tiny touch. Sometimes you wished he could talk in his dragon form, but Drogon was smart enough to give voice to his unspoken words.
With a warning look, Drogon looked to Jon, his pupils becoming slits and a deep growl escaping his throat. Jon held his hands up to show that he wasn't going to do anything. But Drogon's expression remained grim. You rolled your eyes.
“Someone really seems to have an eye on you,” Jon quipped, but his brows were still drawn together in fear. Dany's gaze slid to Drogon and she looked at him warningly. Drogon stood his ground and it turned into a short staring contest before he turned his head away with an annoyed snort and you ran to Viserion.
The golden-sand colored dragon cooed and you gently placed a hand on its nostrils, even though you knew you could never hurt it. These dragons were made of stone, pretty much nothing could just hurt them. There were bigger things for that.
The golden dragon held out its wing to you and let you sit on its back. It was an incredible feeling to sit on a dragon every time and you would probably never get used to it. Jon got to ride Rhaegal and Dany looked at you with pride in her chest. You knew it made her happy when her dragons acknowledged her favorite people and you smiled back at them.
You had ridden Viserion and Rhaegal many times before and you could clearly see a difference. Viserion looked out for you, flew not too fast, but fast enough, and stayed out of squabbles while flying, at least when you were on his back.
Rhaegal, on the other hand, was safer. He flew faster, which you didn't mind in itself, you really enjoyed it and he dared to fly loops, backwards. He rarely did it because he also knew that you were even less experienced. It had scared you briefly, as you almost slipped once and Drogon had lost his composure when he heard your cry for help. With his mouth agape, he snapped at the jade-green dragon and his growl brooked no argument. He'd had enough of these stupid games as long as you were on his back.
It was nerve-wracking for Drogon every time you flew together and he was grateful to his youngest brother Viserion for at least keeping an eye on you.
You were finally in the air and you really enjoyed the flight. The cold, northern wind blew in your face and you closed your eyes and stretched your arms as Viserion flew a little faster. A wide grin crept onto your lips and you felt as if you were free. Your worries were gone, every time you sat on the back of a dragon, all the heaviness in your heart was gone.
Or when you sat on your dragon's lap.
You saw Jon, he still looked a little nervous and you smiled up at him.
“How are you?” you asked against the wind and you could see him clutching the saddle.
“It's unfamiliar,” he replied and you just looked at him with amusement. But he became a little more confident with each passing minute and slowly he seemed to enjoy it too. Drogon looked at you both skeptically and that jealousy and apprehension bubbled up inside him again. He felt visibly unrelaxed and that angered him, but he tried to control his temper. He had promised you.
A low, long grumble came from his throat and your gaze immediately shot in his direction. Feeling your gaze on him made him come down. He wished you could ride him and not just in your bed. Ever since you had mated, his protective instinct was at one hundred and eighty and he couldn't fight the fact that everything in his head revolved around you.
But Dany would never let you on his back because she's afraid something will happen to you, but if only she knew. If only she knew how well he looked after you. He protected you, filled your pussy and took you in his protective arms every night. He didn't let you out of his sight until you fell asleep. He stroked the sweaty strands of hair from your face, even cleaned you after every mating and he would never hurt you. He would rather die than hurt you.
After two hours you had made it and with an aching butt you slid off Viserion's back, with the help of his claw of course. With a groan you arched your back and stretched, you were exhausted and you didn't know how Dany managed to stay on her dragon for so long. It was really physically demanding and without experience it was really a challenge. You needed a bath, badly.
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Exhausted, you took off your clothes. The servants had already put hot water in the bath and you were really looking forward to it. Your bottom was still aching and you could feel the soreness spreading to your arms and armpits.
Suddenly the window was torn open and a dark mop of hair appeared. You turned around, startled, and let out a sigh when you saw the man you knew.
“You're going to kill me one day if you scare me like that,” you giggle and slide your hand into the hot water, wincing as you burn yourself slightly.
“Before that, I'm going to kill Snow and Rhaegal,” the big man growled, grabbing you by the hips. Skillfully, he spun you around and his amber eyes looked at you fiercely. Your cheeks began to burn as you stood naked before him. Even though he had seen you naked so many times before and from many angles. Yes, it was definitely never boring with Drogon, especially in bed. He had shown you positions you didn't know existed and he had shown you forbidden worlds that would have made your mother faint if she found out what her daughter was doing.
Claw-like hands brushed over your soft skin and tenderly Drogon squeezed your flesh, you placed your hands on his forearms and smiled at him.
“You're cute when you're jealous,” a giggle escaped your mouth and Drogon looked at you challengingly.
“And deadly. If that man ever lays a hand on your womb, I'll rip it off,” he growled, his grip tightening. You rolled your eyes and Drogon looked at you warningly. He didn't like it when you didn't take him seriously and you gently stroked his rough skin.
“Calm down. No one but you will ever touch me,” you whispered in an upbeat manner and it seemed to comfort the shapeshifter a little. But his eyes remained skeptical, but quickly softened when he saw your loving gaze and he pulled you into a tight hug. His clawed hands slid to your butt and squeezed it gently. You gasped and you could feel his scent misting you.
Your nipples hardened and Drogon's claw gently stroked them. You closed your eyes and enjoyed his touch. You felt the deep love you felt for this dragon and it made you tremble. What would you do without him? You were connected, you were one. Since the first day you secretly bonded with each other.
His claw now went further down and he carefully slid through your wet labia. Your breathing became more frantic. The bond with a dragon lasted a lifetime, until death and beyond. The souls were bound and no one could separate them.
A moan escaped your mouth as Drogon massaged your clitoris and wet your slick against his claws.
“May I bathe with you, woman,” he asked bittersweetly and you nodded eagerly.
“Always, my dragon.”
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mischelmayleys · 7 months ago
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Only this first one is going to be post here probably so for more go to my wattpad: football_woman_11
CHAPTER 1
Mapi and Ingrid were the perfect ending for each other. They knew it of course. But sometimes they felt like something was missing. Maybe someone. Some little legs running around their shared apartment in the catalonia town. 
It started as a thought from their conversation one simple evening that turned them into a fostering process. They were told they are too busy and always traveling for the games as all the workers have said. It wasn't an environment for a little kid that probably came out of something tragic to find itself in a foster system. 
They still tried. They still asked if there was someone they could foster and later adopt. But the simple "No" set their hopes to minimum, until one day.
„Are you totally insane Eliza!" My social worker yelled at me as soon as she found me in a police station sitting in the 24 hour jail. I looked down at my bleeding knuckles and pursed my lips to stop the pounding pain in them.
I shrugged my shoulders and let myself sink further into the uncomfortable wooden chair.
„Do you have any idea how this will look  on your record. Running from yet another of your homes is one thing there but fights. And don't let me start at your school records." She was looking at me through the bars of the cell.
„They weren't my home." I said looking up at her.
She sighs: „Eliza I know you don't like them, but you need to at least try. There aren't many families that want a 16 year old, yet trouble maker. You know how hard it was for me to find you Mr and Mrs Freemans?" She let the question sink. She didn't expect me to answer her, yet she stayed quiet.
„I was protecting myself in the fight AND running away was a way better option than staying." I argued back at her. She doesn't know how it is in the foster system. For her every family is good, but it's never the case.
I was in five families so far. Neither of them were okay.
In the first one the father abused me mentally the second one physically, but no one ever believed me.
Who would believe a 16year old girl over people who put everything together once they're investigating? No one...
I didn't eat normal food for a long time, of course I always ended up getting some bread or cold food, but my body was missing some hot and fresh food.
„Eliza we talked about this. A roof over your head is home.“ Again I stayed quiet and just stared at my now numb hands. She wasn’t right. Home is when you are somewhere you are loved and treated right. 
My social worker continued to look at me for a few more minutes until she signaled for the cop to release me: „You are sleeping in my office tonight. The family dropped your things into my car. Come on.“ She grabbed me by my arm and dragged me into her car. 
„You bailed me out?“ I asked as she started the engine. 
„Yes.“ It was a simple answer but it made me smile a little. At least someone cared. 
The next day my social worker forced me into my classes and said after school to go immediately to her office, saying she found a family for me to stay over there for a couple of days. I didn’t bother to go, instead I went to a small football field where I sneaked and borrowed one ball which was always lying around somewhere on the pitch. 
I threw my backpack onto the field which didn’t include any of my school stuff. Instead of books it was filled with my football shoes and a half of my skateboard. The other half was showing from the back pack as it of course didn’t fit into him.
I quickly changed my shoes and began to do some tricks with the ball that I learned online. They were simple but at least I didn't suck at it like I did with school. 
It wasn't like I was stupid or something, I just didn't care. Foster kids don't normally get picked out to the school football team or to anything really. You don't have many friends because you are always moving around and no one likes new kids anyway. 
After some time my phone blew up with messages and missed calls from my social worker asking where the FUCK I was. I just rolled my eyes and said I'll be there in a few minutes. It was better to come late, at least they won't pick me if they see that I'm not bothered. 
I would lie if I didn't say I was scared to go into the office door. It would mean meeting the people who I would live with. They never were nice people fostering me. 
They seemed okay but most of them turned out into drug junkies, alcoholics or abusers. Sometimes all at once. I am kind of used to it now. I mastered a skill in running away and quickly scanning the areas I was in to see a potential way out. 
I took a deep breath and with a bored expression knocked on the door and opened them immediately after. 
I was met with my social worker and two women talking.  
„Eliza, come here. Sit.” My social worker said, making me sigh and sit into the chair next to her facing the two women. 
„This is Maria and Ingrid and they will take you in, until I find someone to adopt you.” my social worker was saying but all I was focusing on were the two women in front of me. 
One of them had tattoos all over her arms and one on her neck. I focused on that one more: 
Looks can be deceiving
Hmm interesting. People with tattoos tend to look aggressive and most of the time they are. One of the last foster homes I was in, the man had many tattoos…I used to look at them when he beat me up. How his muscles flexed and the tattoos moved on his arms. 
„Eliza!” I was torn from my thoughts because my social worker called my name. 
„Yeah, sure whatever.” I mumbled annoyed and stood up. 
„Be nice and please stay out of trouble.” She said as I followed Ingrid and Maria out of the door. 
I took a deep breath: „No.” And with that I closed the door and turned around to find them staring at me.
„What?” I asked.
Ingrid smiles at me: „We are waiting for you.” she stuck out her hand and I just looked at it and walked past them. 
„Or not.” I heard Maria mumble as they followed me closely.
Due to me not knowing where to go I stopped and looked back at the two women. 
„It’s that black Cupra.” Ingrid pointed out a black car sitting at the back of the parking lot. 
I nodded and walked to the car feeling them right behind me. 
I quickly slipped into the back seat and sat down with my backpack next to all of my bags which I don't know how they got there. Probably my social worker. 
I pulled my board between my legs so I don't make the interior of the car dirty. It was so clean. 
„So, are you hungry? Or did you eat in school?” Maria turned from the front seat facing me. 
I shook my head quickly: „I am not hungry.” I learned that by now, when someone asks me if I'm hungry the answer always has to be no. I once said yes and I hadn't eaten anything for three days due to me being ungrateful. 
They both shared a concerned look which I didn't see because I was already looking out of the window.
When Ingrid stopped the car I realized that we were in front of McDonald's. I frowned, why are we here if I said I'm not hungry?
„I know you said you aren't hungry but I think some fries aren't that big of a deal, what do you say?” Ingrid turned my way smiling. Why the fuck is she smiling at me? 
„I guess…” I mumbled in case this was some kind of a trap. Ingrid and Maria looks nice…nicer that the other people, but I am done trusting the system putting me somewhere nice.
They both went outside of the car as I stayed in. 
„Well you are coming too let's go.” Maria said as she opened the door on my side. Fuck! I mumbled under my breath and got out of the car carefully placing my board into the space between the seats. 
They were asking too many questions. If I really want just fries? If I want a burger as well? Or what I want to drink. I tried to reply short and no to most of the questions, but in the end I ended up with The nuggets, fries and coke zero in the back placed safely in my lap as we sat in the car to their house.
I still don’t know what to think about them. They are smiling at me, buying me food and making sure I have everything and it has only been two hours since they first met me. There must be something wrong with them…
Ingrid parked the car in front of a flat building in the center of Barcelona. It looked expensive here…or at least better than the streets where my usual foster parents lived. Maria took all of my bags even though I said I could carry them on my own, but she dismissed me by saying: “Why would you do that?” 
I didn’t fight her back on it, not because I didn’t want to, but it was Ingrid who literally guided me out of Marias way. 
“Come on let Maria be, I am going to show you your room.” Ingrid said and with her hand on my back she led me into the elevator. I had the Mcdonald's back in one hand and my board in the other one. I get my own room? 
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thejujvtsupost · 1 year ago
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Hello, I am a first timer here. I would like to humbly request something. Can I please request for a Platonic Nanami and adopted daughter reader. The reader is not used to a normal environment and they are used to fighting and surviving
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Girl Dad Transformation
I’ve been stewing over this so hard bc it’s been giving me the cutest ideas!!!! And ofc Yuuji is so big brother coded here.
Notes: F!reader, brotherly!Yuuji, Nanami and his adopted daughter 🥺. That’s it.
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Nanami didn’t think about the long term impact of adopting the orphaned sorcerer. Surely he wouldn’t change that much…
All he knew was there was a 5 year old girl clutching her only toy- a stuffed bear, who could see ‘scary monsters’ and no longer had any family, thanks to the curse that was tormenting humans for fun; he was just a little too late.
The poor thing was terrified. In the blink of an eye his hand was seized by a freezing, much smaller one with a death grip.
Nanami got you looked at by Shoko and you refused to let go of him the entire time. By the looks of it, you were malnourished and you frequently got injured from curses. Your home life was fairly unstable too, financial issues and absent-detached parents. Shoko got a lot more information from you than he ever expected, piecing together some of your history from your seemingly unrelated answers, as children do.
“She’s going to have to stay for observation, probably several weeks until we can get her healthy enough. She’s going to need a special diet too, I haven’t seen a case this bad in a long time and she’s too young for cursed energy.”
His heart was crushed for you, when was the last time you had somewhere stable? “Why are you telling me?”
“You found her, she’s clearly attached to you and you know you can’t turn away now. You look at her like she’s Itadori. It’s just until I can find a place for her at a home or foster.” Shoko never fails with her dead pan demeanor and sass.
She was also right.
He looked back at you, you were passed out in your hospital bed covered by several blankets and hugging your bear. Finally, you were warming up. Finding you a home could take months if you went to a foster or orphanage… “Don’t bother,” he swallowed thickly, “I will adopt her.”
Shoko’s face softened further, “You can’t go back on it, you already earned her trust. If you’re really sure then I think this will be good for both of you.”
He did his best to be at your bedside when he could, and you were quiet but clearly in need of comfort. Your favorite thing to do was have him read to you with cartoons on a low volume in the background. “Nami, book?” Nanami picked up a book off the stack Shoko brought and started reading. No complaints, and after the first few days he didn’t bother hiding his smile anymore.
He spent a fortune on converting his spare bedroom into yours. He didn’t even know what 5 year olds liked, but according to the first years and Shoko, he needed to make sure you had various toys (he bought everything Yuuji pointed out to him- Yuuji definitely went overboard but Nanami didn’t stop him), clothes and of course you’d need signed up for school.
When the adoption was final and he brought you home for the first time, he was thoroughly instructed how to parent by then, he was ready.
You… weren’t. Not yet. You didn’t know that your room was yours. All the toys and clothes, everything was yours. ‘Nami’ kept the ‘scary monsters’ away too…
“Hey it’s okay honey, I know it’s a big change.” He wiped the tears from your chubby cheeks and smiled softly. “You belong here, you’re safe now.”
A grown up was taking care of you, for good this time.
It was a journey every day but worth it as you came out of your shell, and he encouraged you with a gentle hand. Of course there were setbacks too. He wasn’t perfect, he definitely wasn’t good at laundry at first.
He was new to parenting and it was exhaustingly difficult to navigate yet he was completely whipped for you, never turning down a tea party or invitation to watch cartoons together. He became a complete girl dad overnight.
All it took was, “Nami! Play!” And he’d be on the floor in the living room playing with the doll you handed him.
You started eating more, even requesting different meals when he asked what you were in the mood to eat. “Nami, can we have soba?”
Nanami couldn’t say no to you. “Soba sounds great.” He’d have the softest smile on his face too.
You played more often, and eventually made friends! Yuuji claimed the title as your first friend but you were encouraged to make more- he helped you practice asking your classmates about themselves and how to invite them to play with you.
And Nanami… he never forced you to call him dad. He loved you more than he ever thought possible. He was always proud to call you his daughter, bragging about your excellent kindergarten grades and your recent achievement of becoming the line leader at school for the week.
But the first time you did happened a month in, while doing your bedtime routine and picking out a night night story. Instead of ‘Nami’ he was gifted: “Daddy, can you read the star book?” He let out a tear and hugged you tight.
Nanami tucked you in, kissed your forehead and sat on the edge of your bed, “Yeah honey, I’ll read you the star book.”
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Thinking about making a request? Check my bio to see if they’re open and stay tuned <3
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idk6123 · 6 months ago
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Boring Foster Home, Interesting Roommate (Lip Gallagher X Male Reader)
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Getting back to foster care it’s always temporary. One way or another, the Gallaghers always stay together, for the better or worse. Still, foster care is a bitch, and somehow the group always end up with the worst kind of foster parents. Lip wasn’t surprised at all to learn his foster parents are devout Jehovah witnesses.
“We hold a daily bible study at 4PM. We expect you to dress modestly all the time. You need to ask permission to use the phone, and no cellphones allowed. We don’t allow any kind of media that defies our beliefs. Alcohol and drugs aren’t allowed. Any breaking of these rules will be swiftly punished.”
To be honest, Lip doesn’t listen at all as he follows his foster father. He’s smart enough to know what being a Jehovah Witness is about, and he can summarize it in one sentence: no fun at all cost. They get to the upper floor, as they get pass multiple bedrooms, where he sees other children. There are around 12, as he counts. Most of them years younger than him. Luckily, he manages to get roomed up with someone around his own age.
“You will be sharing your room with Y/N. He helps you settle in. You two go door to door tomorrow, so no fighting.” The middle aged man disappears.
Lip walks in, with Y/N looking pass his bible, which he holds. “I love when people look dead inside the first time they get in here.”
“Not the only time I do.” Lip merely replies. He curiously looks at the bible, but Y/N reveals what he’s actually reading.
“Porn. Gotta be creative around these people.” From between the pages, Lip sees a magazine with many ripped and shirtless men.
Lip then put his bag on the other bed. When he first got here, his new foster parents searched through it and confiscating everything that isn’t allowed to be here, which is about everything.
“Want some help?”
“Not really. They already took 99% of what I brought.”
Still, Y/N closes the bible and stands up to help Lip, mainly with his clothes by putting them in the closet. “Dead parents?”
“Only dead beats. You?”
“Just dead. Since I was 2.” Y/N says as both guys unpack. “Funnily enough, this is better than the previous foster parents.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me.”
-
The next day, the family got out in the neighborhood and split up to spread the special message. This is the only time they’re allowed to walk freely. That being said, they can’t go anywhere. They only get 4 hours, where they need to be checked up every hour. During the checkups, they get frisked if they get anything bad on them, such as cigarettes. However, that won’t stop the duo.
“They usually feel pity for me and give me there junk. Pretty sure they got something for you too.” Y/N says as he and Lip walk over to a house to knock on the door. After some seconds, the door opens, showing an old grandma. “Hello, Mrs. Partridge.”
“Oh dear god, you’re back.” The old lady then looks at Lip with a sympathetic face. “I see they dragged another unfortunate soul.”
“And I won’t be the last.” Lip semi jokes.
The grandma sighs in disappointed. “Let me get something for you.” She turns around and walks away.
“Lovely lady.” Lip comments.
“Not really. She just really hates Jehovah Witnesses. She’s catholic, you see.”
“Natural enemies.”
The granny walks back, holding a bag of stuff, which she hands over to Y/N. “Make sure to not belief in their lies, young man.” She says motherly to Lip.
Lip put his hand on his chest as he takes an oath. “I won’t.”
“Good boy. Have a sweet day.”
Y/N and Lip turns around, with the one holding the bag checking it out. “Oh, she’s generous today…”
-
On a bench in the park, Lip is smoking happily, while Y/N is drinking the beer they got. Both of them intend to call it a day and not knock on the door.
“This is some good stuff.”
“Yeah, she usually gives them to me after her husband got long cancer.” Y/N explains. “Not really one of the cigs.”
“More for me.” Lip then gestures Y/N to give him the beer bottle, which he passes on. After a sip, he gives it back. The blonde then looks at the bag of loot. “I’m going to get cancer too if I take all of that.”
Y/N looks back at the bag, seeing the stacks of cigarettes. “I sell what I have over. Speaking of which.” He looks back at Lip. “They take our money when they find out, so we need to hide it.”
“In our assholes?” Lip looks amused.
“No. They can’t check them out, since we’re foster kids.” Y/N says, knowing if they aren’t, they would. “Just put them in your undies and your fine.”
“Cool. 50/50 split?”
“Sure.” With that, they give each other a box as they continue their vices.
-
Later that day, and it’s time to read the bible, the only book they’re allowed to read. They ate their dinner, and now they just have to wait to sleep. During this time, Lip feels like it takes forever until something interesting happens. It’s too early to sleep, and yet sleeping sound more fun than reading.
Both teens are lying on their bed as they read, but Lip knows what Y/N really is reading.
“Looking at porn?”
“Yep. You might as well call this the Bible.” Without looking away, Y/N talks. “Want some too?”
“Are they all gay?”
“Yeah.”
Lip sighs. On one hand, he isn’t going to enjoy it. On the other hand, he takes everything over reading this. “Whatever. Give it to me.”
Y/N closes his book and get off his bed to lift up his mattress. “What do you feel? Doctor’s appointment? Teacher romance? Military training?”
“Military training.”
Y/N grabs it and throws it towards Lip, who catches it. He put it between the pages of the bible. As Lip begins to check it out, Y/N gets back. In front of him, the genius sees a muscular men wearing military outfits while showing their sixpacks as they touch each other. As Lip opens it, he notices something.
“There is an entire story.”
“Yeah, I’m one for buildup. Think it’s more fun.”
Lip hums. Thus, he begins reading it. He isn’t sure he actually likes it, or he’s that bored he takes gay porn. Still, he likes it. To his surprise, he likes it too much. As the time passes, Y/N sometimes takes glances on Lip, to notices him way too invested. He merely let him be. It takes some time before Lip closes the book.
“Got another one?”
“Did you had fun?”
“Playing with dirt is fun when you live here.” Lip says with a smirk.
Y/N hums. “You know? There are other things we can do then reading porn.”
With a mischievous smirk, he looks at the curious teen, who couldn’t help but look at him. With swiftness, the blonde stands up, jump on Y/N and they begin making out with each other as they begin unclothing themselves and each other.
-
“And?”
“Pretty good.”
Underneath the sheets of Y/N’s bed, both teens lie next to each other as they recover after their good time.
“And here I thought you were straight.”
“Glad you proved me wrong.” Lip smirks. “I can see why Ian likes it so much.”
“Who’s Ian?”
“My brother.”
“Your brother sounds like a wise guy.”
“No, he’s a moron.” Y/N laughs, as does Lip. As they do, seconds pass and they become quieter.
“I wish we could’ve met under different circumstances.” Y/N speaks up. “Not in some dumb foster home where I can’t even kiss a guy.”
That’s when Lip thought of an idea. “We can make it so foster care take us back.”
Y/N is surprised to hear that. “We can?”
-
It takes around 2 days for Lip‘s plan to be executed. During which, they set up camera’s in the bathroom, specifically the shower. They planted booze and drinks around the house, hidden, but easy to find for the cops. After gathering their footage, they did what they did and now they can follow up through it.
They make sure their foster father is in the kitchen, while both of them are standing at the living room. With it being an open floor plan, they can be heard easily, without talking to their foster father directly.
“Dude, did you heard?”
“About Mrs. Cunningham?” Y/N replies. Now, their foster father is curious what they’re talking about his wife. “The entire school is talking about it.”
“I still find it ridiculous. Just thought of it.” Lip makes sure to choose his words wisely. Enough for Mr. Cunningham to be curious, without asking them directly. “I checked it out, and they’re right. She’s on MilfsSeeker.”
“And to think she’s so devout… Real shame.”
Both teens hold their smirks as they hear Mr. Cunningham grabbing his laptop and begin typing. It takes a couple of minutes to hear something.
“By the mother of-!? Wanda!”
Both teens can’t help but snicker a bit as they hear the man stomping on the stairs. It doesn’t take long as they begin screaming to each other, with both teens looking up to hear it.
“Are we going to call them now?” Y/N asks.
“Yep.”
-
And so, they’re back at Foster care without a home, where they’re being asked about their former home situation. The younger ones were asked separately, while Lip and Y/N both got questioned together. Both of them are sitting at an office, talking to a lady.
“I sometime see her smoking on the porch. Looks like she did it on the regular.”
“Me too. Mrs. Partridge warned me about them. And turns out, she’s right.”
“We make sure something like this ever happens again.” The woman says. “We want to sincerely apologize for putting you in such a dangerous situation. Especially after Mr. Cunningham became physical.” The woman then looks at Lip. “I got good news for you. Everything has been taken care of back at your family, and you’re allowed to go back.”
“Finally.” Lip mutters tiredly.
Y/N smiles. “Congrats.”
“Thanks.” Lip says with a smile as he looks at him, only to see Y/N’s hollow eyes. Even if he left this bad foster home, it’s unknown what crazy other foster home he goes to. Thus, he looks back at the foster home lady. “Is there any chance Y/N can go with me?”
“Lip?” Y/N looks surprised he would do something like this for him.
“I’m sorry, but you need to have permission to take care of a foster child, even if they’re 17 old.”
Although Y/N looks disappointed, Lip got a better idea. “I know who’s allow to.”
-
“Welcome to your new home, buddy!” Y/N is extremely startled as Kevin warmly greets him. In the sunset, he sees his new house. He would describe it has a ghetto, but Kevin and Veronica look like good people, so he sticks around for now. “You’re going to love it here.”
“Don’t act so exciting. You’re scaring him.” Veronica scolds him.
“It’s alright. It’s way better than… all the other foster homes I was in.”
“That’s because we’re the best!” Kevin proudly smiles. “Let us show you to your room and help you unpack.”
-
Inside of his new room, Y/N is unpacking all his bags. It isn’t much, because he wasn’t allowed much. It’s mostly clothes. He was quite insisted he can do it on his own, which Kev and V both respected and they get downstairs to prepare for dinner. As Y/N unpacks, he hears a tick from the window. He didn’t thought much about it, until he hears it again. Thus, he walks over it and look out, to see Lip outside, who was throwing small stones. With a smile, Y/N opens the window.
“Hey, I heard a cute guy moved in and I thought I should say hi.”
Y/N chuckles. “Hey. You really did me a favor.”
“Oh no, it’s not a favor. It’s a deal.” Lip explains. “You see, I got you a better home, and in return, I expect a date.”
“Like you didn’t get that either way. You should’ve demanded for more.”
Lip hums amused. “I could always ask for sex.”
“I can repeat my previous statement, but sure.” Y/N smiles. He looks back at his room, before looking back at the guy he likes. “I have to pass for today though. Dinner is almost ready and want to sleep normally.”
“Sure thing. Buuut… I still feel like spending time together. Any chance Kev and V can add another plate?”
As both teens smile, Y/N can easily reply with one simple answer. “Sure.”
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slasherx · 8 months ago
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Gurl you write so fast like a Machine 😂, I wish I could write like that, and also good luck with your finals!
Can I do a request for A Micheal Myers with a childhood crush (female) like as a kid Michael had a crush on the reader but like after he killed they were separated for years but them micheal broke out and came across the reader all grown up if you can!
Also can you do Rz Michael, he's my favorite
Lol thats cause I have the motivation to write about slashers rn. And thank you! I got a 94% on one of them, but I won't get my final grade on the other one for a bit. I hope I pass.
Content: Michael Myers x fem!Reader
Warnings: Canon-typical violence, obsessive love
Notes: Even though the gif is peepaw Myers, this takes place in the RZ universe
• ───────────────── •
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Michael was put away in the asylum when he was ten. Before he made a vow to never speak again, he kept asking his mother and Dr. Loomis where you were, and if you could come visit him. His mother promised to talk to your parents about it, but that she couldn't guarantee you could come see him.
And so she did. She tried talking to your parents, but your parents wanted you nowhere near that monster of a child. They outright refused her on numerous occasions, even when Michael's mother pleaded with them on her knees at their front door.
When she broke the news to Michael that you wouldn't be seeing him, Michael lost it. He could feel something in his head snap, the same way it snapped when bullies would hurt you or him. Or the same way he felt himself snap that Halloween night.
He managed to keep it cool until Dr. Loomis and his mother left, but when they sent in that nurse to watch him until they could escort him to his room, he couldn't hold it in any longer. He took his plastic fork and jammed it into her throat, cutting her scream short. He was angry. Why wouldn't you come see him? Why? Why, why, why? He didn't understand...he thought you were best friends.
• ───────────────── •
Eight years after that day, he had a visitor that wasn't Dr. Loomis. He had known his mother killed herself, his sister was dead, and Boo was probably far away in the foster care system, so he had hoped it was you.
When they sat him in the room, he had felt anxious for the first time in years. Had you changed like he had? Did you grow out your hair like him? Grown taller like him? He kept a mask on, one he made in rememberance of you. It was just your favorite color all over it.
Finally, you walked in and sat down across from Michael. A couple guards stood at the door, in case Michael tried to leap at you regardless of his cuffs chaining him to the table. He was breathing heavily - you had changed.
You had grown taller, but you remained shorter than him. Now at eighteen, you seemed very mature for your age, and Michael wanted to leap across the table at you, but not to kill you.
"Hi Michael. My parents don't know I'm here. I just...came to provide an explanation, since I feel you deserve one." You spoke, hands in your lap. "Your mother begged my parents to let me see you on many occasions, and each time they told her no. I remember one time she cried and got on her knees to beg my mother, but she just shut the door in her face."
Michael listened, quiet as ever. He was just happy to see you in front of him again. He was also surprised that Dr. Loomis wasn't here to supervise this meeting.
"And I want you to know that Dr. Loomis has contacted me since I turned eighteen, and we've spoken about you a couple of times. He told me you don't speak anymore, and that you killed a nurse while being in here." You decided it was now or never to try and break his vow of silence. "Is...is that true, Michael?"
Michael wanted to break his silence, but he knew Loomis would be on his ass if he did. So all he did was nod his head yes.
You seemed to shift uncomfortably. Your breathing increased, and he could tell you were scared. This saddened him - he didn't want you to be scared of him, he wanted you to love him. You two were attached to each other as children, why would a few murders make this any different?
"I...think I better go before my parents realize I'm not at my friends house." You started to get up, when Michael launched at you and grabbed your wrist, straining the cuffs on him.
He held you hard, and you could see the desperation in his eyes. He was all alone here. But he still killed those people, and if you weren't careful, you'd be next. The guards moved forward and forced Michael back, and a few more people rushed into the room. One rushed to you and put his hands on your shoulders.
"Ma'am, ma'am, are you alright?" The man asked.
You nodded. "Yeah, thank you." It was too fast for you to process it, but Michael was staring at you. "Please, take me out of here."
• ───────────────── •
Now outside, you saw Dr. Loomis by your car. He was pacing, clearly nervous about your meeting with Michael. Then when he saw you approach, he waved to you.
"How did it go?"
"Please don't talk to me. I shouldn't have come here." You responded shakily.
"What happened in there? Did he break his silence?"
"No, but he fucking grabbed me! Who knows what else he would have done if the guards hadn't been there?! I was crazy to even come here." You opened your car door and got inside.
"Please, wait, (Y/n). You don't know how much you mean to Michael, I-"
"Save it, Dr. Loomis. I'm going home. Stop calling me." You started up your car and peeled out of the parking lot. Memories of you and Michael as kids began to race through your head and you began to cry. How did it come to this...?
• ───────────────── •
Seven more years went by. Seven more years where Michael didn't see you. Seven more angry years. But now, it was different. Michael was standing in front of your house.
He was different now. He was more built, even taller, and his hair was even longer. You used to comment on his long hair as a kid, it was one of the reasons he kept it so long in the first place.
He could see you through the window. You lived alone now, just down the street from your childhood home. He was content watching you through the window. You were preparing dinner, when you suddenly got a call. He decided now was the time to enter your home.
Moving around to the back door, he began to pick the lock.
"Hello?" You picked up your phone.
With a click, he was in.
"(Y/n)! You need to listen to me-" Dr. Loomis practically shouted on the other line.
Michael slowly opened the door.
"Save it, Dr. Loomis. I told you to stop calling me." You were about to hang up.
Michael made his way to your living room, right next to your kitchen.
"He's escaped! Michael has escaped!"
"What?" You spoke, shock and fear tearing through your system. You put a hand over your mouth, and looked up through your window, but you saw a figure behind you.
"You're not safe! Flee Haddonfield!" Dr. Loomis begged.
You spun around to see a large man with a knife glistening in his hand. He had a white mask on, blonde hair poking out underneath it. You didn't need him to take off the mask to see who it was. Your fear skyrocketed as you thought he was going to kill you.
"Michael...?" You spoke, slowly lowering the phone and ignoring Dr. Loomis' pleas.
Michael moved towards you. He finally had you now, and he would never let you go again. He was yours, and you will be his.
• ───────────────── •
Here's my masterlist, in case you like what you see and want to request more!
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suzukiblu · 8 months ago
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WIP excerpt for Cheshire behind the cut; Billy adopts Conner and it actually goes pretty good! ( + non-chrono link for app users )
“Um, yeah,” Billy says, still internally cringing at himself. “Just–not just the bare minimum, I mean? Like–other things too. Books and games and snacks and . . . whatever you think’s fun, or whatever you want to learn about, or whatever.” 
He’s definitely been in “homes” that didn’t give him things like that. He doesn’t want Lynn to feel like . . . a burden, or a problem, or just unimportant and unwanted like that, so . . . yeah, he’s definitely gonna get him things that aren’t just the bare minimum. As many of those things as he can, he thinks. 
Batman gave them so much money, and that’s not even counting the stipend. Billy can definitely afford to give Lynn the kind of stuff none of his foster families wanted to give him. So, like–he’s gonna, obviously. 
Of course he’s gonna. 
Lynn ducks his head a little, then swallows uncomfortably. Billy resists the urge to nudge Tawky towards him again. He wonders if he could just, like . . . offer Lynn a hug, maybe? Maybe that’d be okay? 
Or maybe it’d be weird and pushy, or maybe stupid, or maybe just make Lynn feel uncomfortable. They’ve never met before today and they’ve barely spent any time together at all, and Billy doesn’t want to be the type of foster parent who demands a relationship that just isn’t there, even if he’s . . . well, not really just a foster parent, he hopes. But those fosters just always made him feel like they were more interested in getting attention and looking good to strangers than anything about him. 
He wants Lynn to feel like he’s interested in him–wants Lynn to know he’s interested in him, and cares about him, and isn’t gonna ignore him or hate him if he doesn’t follow some stupid script he’s got in his head of how he “should” be. 
He definitely wants that. 
“It’s okay if you don’t know what you think’s fun yet,” he tries, hoping he’s not assuming too much. “It’s probably kinda overwhelming, with, um . . . literally everything happening all at once and your whole life getting turned on its head, um . . . basically five minutes after it really started, so . . .” 
“I was alive before I woke up,” Lynn says, a little stilted. “I–saw things. Learned things.” 
“Things about yourself, or about how Cadmus wanted you to be?” Billy asks. 
Lynn–pauses. Frowns. 
“. . . um,” he says. “I . . . don’t know.” 
Billy is pretty sure Cadmus just sucks, actually. Like. A lot. 
“Okay,” he says. “Well, that’s okay too. You can take your time figuring it out. There’s no rush or anything.” 
“Superman won’t like me if I don’t figure it out,” Lynn says, his frown deepening. “If I’m not–useful.” 
. . . okay, Billy thinks. Cadmus really sucks, actually. 
“Superman doesn’t care about people being useful,” he says firmly. “That’s like, the last thing Superman cares about. He just likes people for who they are.” 
“. . . who I am is . . . fake, though,” Lynn says, his eyes slanting away. “It’s–programmed.” 
“So?” Billy asks, reminding himself superheroes don’t burn down weird basement labs outside of extenuating circumstances. And anyway, the sidekicks already messed Cadmus up pretty bad as it was. “Lots of people get programmed. Red Tornado’s programmed, and he’s really nice. And Wonder Woman got made out of clay as a little kid, so she got, like, magic programming. Like, to be her ‘age’, you know?” 
Lynn . . . blinks, slowly, and then glances back at him. 
“You really think that?” he asks. Billy’s a little confused by the question. He doesn’t think it; he knows it. 
“I mean, yeah?” he says. “I just mean–it doesn’t make you fake. That’s all. Especially ‘cuz you can, you know . . . learn stuff yourself, if you wanna. You don’t have to just stay the way you got taught to be.” 
Lynn stares at him for a long, silent moment, then looks down at the table again. 
“How long have you had–uh, Uncle Tawky?” he asks, abrupt and obviously trying to change the subject. That’s fine, Billy thinks; he doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable. And Lynn’s gotta learn how to do that kind of thing anyway, so it’s good practice for more complicated conversations, he figures. 
“Since I was ten,” he says. “He came from India! I met him in Fawcett, though, and he’s been my best friend ever since! He’s really great. And a respectable gentleman, so you don’t need to be scared of him or anything. I mean, I don’t know if you’re scared of tigers or not? Because probably you’re tiger-proof? Like–normally, I mean. But yeah.” 
“. . . I’m not scared of tigers,” Lynn says, looking a little bewildered, for some reason. Billy beams at him. 
“Great!” he says happily. Tawky could probably hurt Lynn, since he’s magic too, but he obviously wouldn’t, so he’s just . . . not gonna draw attention to that right now, obviously. That wouldn’t make Lynn feel very safe, he’s pretty sure. 
But Tawky could also probably stop Lynn if he got mind-controlled, so . . . maybe it would make him feel safer? Billy’s not sure, actually. 
. . . hm. Yeah, he needs to figure that out. 
“. . . you’ve really had him since you were ten?” Lynn asks, looking–hesitant, now. Billy doesn’t know why, but nods. 
“Yup!” he says. “He’s the best.” 
“. . . are you sure you want me to have him?” Lynn asks, still looking hesitant. 
“Yeah!” Billy confirms cheerfully. “Tawky’s the best! He’ll protect you. And keep you from having bad dreams, too.” Tawky’s really good at eating nightmares, so yeah, Lynn won’t have to worry about bad dreams at all. 
“Uh,” Lynn says, then very gingerly reaches over and picks up Tawky, and then sets him in his lap with a weird look on his face. He looks a little–emotional, maybe? At least for him, anyway. He’s not very expressive, so far. “Um. Okay.” 
Billy just beams at him again. He’s really glad they like each other. 
“. . . thanks,” Lynn says as he looks down at Tawky, voice a little abrupt again. “Um–Dad."
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ryuzakemo128 · 4 months ago
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Grim Reaper Part Three
Pairings: Poly 141 x female reader / female reader x her mental health
Content Warnings: Kidnapping, breaking and entering, mention of one-night stand, pregnancy from one night stand, possessive & obsessed Austrian man.
Words: 2345
Masterlist - Prequel - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine
Supernatural AU - Poem
Credit for Dividers: @cafekitsune + @strangergraphics
Note: Song inspired this part: Only You by The Platters
Summary:
Only you can make all this world seem right.
Only you can make the darkness bright.
Only you and you alone can thrill me like you do
And fill my heart with love for only you
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‘If you think you are perfect because you have no disabilities, illness or family trauma. I will be there to knock you to back on your knees and crush you like the ant you are.’
‘Pathetic.’
‘Weak.’
‘More excuses from those who have a superiority complex.’
‘Turn away like you do when someone asks for help, when foster homes and orphanages do shady shit. Your word mean nothing to me.’
‘Leave. Me. Alone.’
They don’t know what your real name is. Your file is coated in so many layers of black ink it might as well be a black page. Even then, so much of who you are and what made who you have remained classified. Under lock and key. Away from unauthorized personnel. To be able to view your file they would need permission from your superiors as well as their boss.
You wore a nanofiber, reinforced body suit underneath your shirt and trousers. The black jacket draped over your shoulders, as you continued to glare from the sidelines. “I don’t care why you might want to have her. She’s not yours to have, she doesn’t belong to you, she isn’t yours to take. She is better off in our care than she is in yours. Don’t ask or request for this again.” Your superior, to say he was angry with them would be an understatement.
“It’s like they don’t understand how you function.” He groaned as he slammed the phone down. Cutting them off from making more incessant demands. You and he walked from his office to the mission briefing.
“Hopefully, they’ll find someone else to assist sir.” You told him.
He nodded in agreement, “Hopefully they do Reaper, hopefully they do.”
It felt like yesterday when that conversation occurred. You wanted to go back to that time. It was far simpler than the time of your life now. Things didn’t feel like they were constantly stacked against you for one reason or some other.
You were always told to love yourself. Yet you never learned how. You didn’t have a role model like the children you grew up with. You didn’t look up to your mother or your father, you saw them falling over themselves. Mentally, sometimes literally.
You wondered what it would like to have parents to pick you up from school. For your parents to put your report on the fridge to show off your good grades.
You reminded Soap, “I'm only helping you to make sure you don't fuck it up.”
The thick leather boots kept the cold snow from seeping to your limbs. You’ve been here before. Many times, before. The cold welcomed you back like a mother waiting for them at the front door after school.
You make took any work to have the excuse to avoid a confrontation from any of them. ‘Can’t confront someone if they’re not there, right?’ you mused with a slow smirk creeping across your face.
However, they weren’t keen on letting you slip away into the night, you were about to cut firewood as they huddled up in the main room. You didn’t mind the cold as much. It felt more welcoming to you than the warmth inside. Layering the wood, you cut up into the firewood holder inside. Picking it up from the wheelbarrow you found in the abandoned shed close by. You were about to make another trip outside. This time to gather sticks, leaves and anything to keep the fire going without resourcing to depleting their back-up firewood.
A firm hand grasping tightly on yours as you turned the doorknob, you were warm, weren’t you? You had more layers on than an onion, at least you felt like you had more layers on than people would have loved to assume. The reinforced bodysuit, the shirt, the trousers, the fur jacket over the top. Black leather with fur lined gloves to tie it all together.
Layers like an onion. Warm like a Siberian bear. The more dead wood from the snow-covered forest you gathered, seeing your mother everywhere still, you walked closer to her, or you attempted to. Yet no matter how close you got, the further away she was.
Was she a hallucination? A visual and audible hallucination? A product of her grief, lack of proper sleep, a lack of a proper send off when your parents passed at sixteen. Once you saw your mother, it was like something inside of you snapped. You didn’t realise you were chasing after her until you felt someone grab your wrist tightly.
You were slowly moving further away from the cabin, step by step, losing your mind in a haze of grief.
‘Have you come to apologise?’ you wondered. Moving faster to get closer to her. Hearing her humming through the forest. Echoing through the trees. Feeling like you were ten years old playing hide and seek with your mother in the park. Only for to disappear whenever you got too close to her.
You didn't hear them calling out to you to snap out of it. You were too caught up in the chase, the illusion of your mother's presence. The cold wind whipped around you, but you felt no chill. Your mind was racing, your heart pounding. You were desperate to find her, to talk to her, to understand.
‘I’m coming mother. Wait for me.’
‘Wait for me.’
‘Please mother.’
Those three thoughts repeating like clockwork, repeating like a broken record. A grandfather clock chiming, the sound of the reverse and slowed down. You never caught up. As soon as you closed your eyes and opened them again. The illusion of your mother vanished, replaced by the stark reality of the snow-covered forest.
As the illusion of your mother faded, you found yourself standing in the middle of the snow-covered forest, the sound of your own ragged breathing echoing in the quiet. You felt a cold shiver run down your spine, not from the frigid air, but from the realisation of what had just happened.
When you got back to the cabin, you hoped you were quiet enough to sneak to your corner and sleeping bag to go to sleep. Ghost spotting you asleep in the corner, arms crossed and frowning like you were still annoyed with someone.
Even in your sleep. You looked like you were tired of dealing with people. Though you were not as young as people assumed you were. You were treated like you didn’t know anything or that you didn’t know any better.
“I’m a thirty-year-old woman. I’ve been in the military for twelve years. Stop treating me like I don’t know anything.” You said to Price once. You were beyond angry at the time. “You have second guessed every decision I’ve made since this whole thing started. If you have an issue with how I did things you could have told me instead. For someone so keen on open communication. You haven’t been doing a lot of it.”
"I apologize, Reaper," he said, his voice sincere. "I've been under a lot of stress lately, and I've taken it out on you. I trust your judgment, and I'm sorry for doubting it."
“Try to do better. An apology without action is just as bad as no apology at all.” You reminded him. “And no, I’m not mad at you, a little disappointed, but not mad.”
Price raised an eyebrow at the second part of what you said, "You're not mad? That’s a first.”
“What can I say? I’m full of stardust and miracles.” You snorted sipping your coffee, wrapping your gloved fingers around the white coffee mug.
Price chuckled, "You're definitely something else, Reaper."
“I try. It’s hard work, and most of the time, a bow and arrow doesn’t always cut it.” You replied, taking another sip of your coffee.
His gaze falling on the compact bow on the table, next to your recurve bow, more like hunting bows. The military didn’t use them as far as knew. You have been using them to hunt for more food, Ghost said something about it while you were gone hunting.
Soap loved taking naps near you afterwards, which didn’t bother you nearly as much as they assumed. “We’re in a snowy area.” You stated. As if they should think about the cold rather than anything illicit.
His head resting on your shoulder, as you both were fast asleep, as Ghost walked inside from the blizzard outside. His breath fogging up in front of his face, closing the door behind him. Eyes drifting over to where you and Soap were huddled together on the couch in front of the fireplace.
Now the mission a distant memory. An echo inside their minds. News of your kidnapping drifted to them. A week after it had occurred. You were taken by someone while you were on mandatory leave. Price kicking himself mentally. How would he have known this would be the outcome of sending you back home?
“When was the last message she sent out?” Price asked Gaz, his frown deep and his impatience growing by the second.
Gaz checked the transcripts of the most recent messages she had sent them to the last one she had sent through before the recent one. Searching for a possible connection between the last two calls you made. The only thing standing out to them was the number. The number of your mother’s cell phone stood out to them as an anomaly.
The last two calls you made were to your mother’s cell phone. Odd. Suspicious even.
“Gaz, run a trace on the phone number, Soap, grab the co-ordinates after Gaz gives you and follow up on the location of where the phone call might have come from.” Price said to the two of them.
Alaska. Northern part of the forest called the Chugach National Forest.
"According to what I've seen. It is coming from a burner phone." Gaz told Price.
Soap is still gripping onto the shirt you gave him a year ago. "Take it." You said.
"Odd way to give a present Reaper." Soap smirked.
"Odd way to say, 'thank you' Soap." You countered with a smirk. You didn't know how to give people presents without making it awkward.
Yet Soap, he never seemed to mind. He always seemed to appreciate your awkward attempts at gift-giving. He cherished them. Although now his mind has is pictures of you in an oversized hoodie.
When your rank of Lieutenant Colonel was revealed to them. A picture of you at 18, dead pan expression and a tired look in your eyes giving look of a 'perpetually resting bitch face' according to Price. Which strangely enough fit you, well that, along with your personality of a stray feline with a penchant of an Irish goodbye.
The last recorded message to them, 'It's weird being back home. But doctors’ orders are final, and I don't think I would be able to look him in the eye if I didn't. Fear of failure is scary I'll say it. It's strange here. Too quiet. I think I got used to Price's snoring and Gaz's endless chatter. You have no idea how many times I was overstimulated, and your chatter was the perfect white noise I needed. Hard to have ADHD and depressive disorder with psychotic traits mixed in. But hey, it is what it is, and the rest is stardust, biscuits, naps and getting scared because you saw your own mask in the mirror at 3am. I'll say this once though I love you. I'll never say to your face because you'll have to pry the word from me like you'd have pry the mint chocolate ice cream from my cold dead fingers. But, yeah, I love you and I'll see you soon alright? And you too Ghost."
The last message you sent out. 'I think someone might be in my house. Not too keen on being someone's target. Ghost, being you're the responsible one out of the two of us. I sent you confirmation of where I lived with my parents. A starting point.' The background noise of creaking floorboards, as you whispered. An unmistakable Austrian accent, "Maus where are you?" In the background followed by heavy rain masking the footsteps.
You continued to whisper into the phone as the message was pretty long in duration. "Ghost, you were right, I admit it, you were right during that argument, and I was clearly wrong." You moved to the attic. Sneaking there while the intruder was downstairs. You continued to whisper, "I'm sorry I argued with you. I should've listened to you. I should've stayed with you. I should've..." Your voice trailed off as you fumbled with the attic hatch, trying to secure it. "I should've just stayed with you."
A sob escaped your lips as you realized your mistake. You had been so stubborn, so determined to prove your independence, that you had ignored the warning signs. Now, you were trapped, alone, and terrified.
You pulled out your phone and sent a final message to Ghost: "I was wrong. He found me. I'm in the attic."
"Mäuschen there you are." The male Austrian voice said in a chilling tone, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps approaching the attic hatch. The line went dead as he crushed the cell phone beneath his hefty foot. "You're pregnant Maus. I can't have you hurting OUR child."
You didn’t know what he was getting at, what did he mean by our child? Surely you remember what he means by that don’t you? Apparently, it seems to bother him. It bothers him that you don’t remember him. That’s fine Maus. He’ll make you remember him. One way or another, you will remember who he is.
Over his shoulder you go Maus.
Right to the den of inequity.
One of his own making.
Only you can make all this world seem right.
Only you can make the darkness bright.
Only you and you alone can thrill me like you do
And fill my heart with love for only you
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Note: I'm trying to hint at him without revealing who he is too fast. I hope you enjoyed reading. See you when part 4 comes out.
German Meaning for:
Maus means mouse.
Mauschen means little mouse.
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