#she’s raising their teething daughter on her own for twenty years i-
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bisexualfemalemess · 7 months ago
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Oliver dying not once but twice in crisis and the teams first thought when j’onn returns their memories of the multiverse being to have felicity search for him. I AM SORRY???? Crisis really had us on a roller coaster ride thinking olicity might get their happy ending. AND SARAS REACTION WHEN WAKING UP ON EARTH PRIME LIKE OH MY GOD SHE REALLY REFUSED TO BELIEVE HE WAS GONE 😭😭😭😭😭
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estrellami-1 · 1 year ago
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Ten Minutes
Didn’t love this when I first wrote it. Left it in my drafts for a LONG freakin’ time. Found it again and no longer care, so here yall go; have fun! Probably not a part 2 to this one.
Steve takes a breath, then another, as he waits for the line to connect. He grits his teeth, feeling eyes on him. He does his best to ignore them.
“Munson residence, if you’re calling about the murders I’ve been absolved of, try going to hell instead.”
“I need you to pick me up.”
A pause. “Stevie?”
Steve takes another breath. Tries to unclench his jaw. “Please.”
“Yeah, of course, I’ll be right there- what-”
“My parents are in town.”
Another pause. “I’ll be there in ten. Try not to kill them.”
Steve laughs humorlessly. “Just hurry.”
“Ten minutes,” Eddie says, and hangs up.
Steve sighs, places the phone in its socket, and turns back to face his parents.
His mother is narrowing her eyes at him. “Who was that?”
“A friend,” he says lightly.
“Who, that Hagan boy?” His father scoffs.
“No. Not Tommy. I haven’t spoken to him in years.”
“Oh, Steve,” his mother tuts. “Always so dramatic. We’ve not even been gone a year-”
Steve laughs. It sounds hollow. “Try four years,” he informs her. “And three concussions. Did you hear about the mall two years ago? Or the boy who went missing four years ago?” He shakes his head when his mother looks at him blankly. “That’s what I thought.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” his father snaps. “And don’t you dare speak to your mother in that tone again, Steven. You’re still a child and I won’t hesitate to reprimand you as such.”
“I’m twenty,” Steve says evenly. “I’ll be twenty-one in five months.” He crosses his arms. “The last time you saw me, I was a freshman in high school. I’ve graduated. I found jobs. Lost some friends and made some better ones.”
“And what of that girl you were dancing around?” His mother asks. “Karen’s daughter?”
“We’re friends,” he says shortly, then moves through the kitchen, to the stairs. “Excuse me.”
“No,” his father says. “You’re not excused. Where do you think you’re going?”
Steve turns, one hand on the bannister, to look at the man who had terrified him the last time he’d seen him. It’s funny what interdimensional threats will do. “To pack a bag. I’m not going to stay here while you are.”
“And if I were to say we’re staying for good?”
Steve laughs. “Dad, you’ve said that before. Multiple times, actually. Those words mean nothing to me anymore.”
“And where are you planning on staying?” His mother asks. “Honestly, Steven, I thought we raised you to make better decisions than this.”
“Oh, I see. So it was raising me when I woke up at nine years old to discover you’d left and I’d have to find my own way to school. Then a week later when I had to ride my bike to the store to buy groceries. At eleven, when I looked the school counselor in the eye and said you’d be back soon. I had to go to my own parent-teacher conferences. At fifteen, trying to figure out high school classes. At seventeen when I got my first concussion. At eighteen when I signed my first legally-binding NDA. You hadn’t abandoned me. You were raising me.” He sighs, shakes his head. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”
He makes his way up to his room and packs as much as he can. Clothes. Vinyls. The box of cash under the loose floorboard. Then into the bathroom. Toothbrush, deodorant, even his shampoo. Doubles back into his room to grab a bracelet off his nightstand; one El made him.
He looks around, grabs the nail bat, and makes his way downstairs. His mother gasps when she sees him. “What on earth is that?”
He looks at the bat. Adjusts his grip, twirls it around. “An NDA.”
The doorbell rings. Steve grabs his bags and moves towards it. “If you walk out that door, you’ll never walk back in.”
“Fine by me,” Steve says. He grabs his keys, tosses the house key at his father, and pockets the rest.
He opens the door and grins at Eddie, who’s looking at him worriedly. “Hey, Eds. Ready to go?”
Eddie blinks. “Um. Sure? Are you okay?”
“Sure,” Steve shrugs. “I’m getting kicked out. If you don’t want to take me I’ll just go bug Robin. It’ll only be for a little while, though, just until I find a better job and an apartment or something.”
“Like hell Wayne’s gonna miss this chance,” Eddie grins. “You know you’re his favorite.”
Steve smiles back, tosses his things into the back of Eddie’s van. “I hoped you were gonna say that.”
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queenpiranhadon · 9 months ago
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A/N: Yayyy we finally get to meet our blondie in this chapter :) Obligatory mention to the awesome @cashmoneyyysstuff GO FOLLOW HER RN ISTG SHE DESERVES IT!! Here's the masterlist!
Warning(s): Cursing, reader is the daughter of Aizawa, Shinso and Eri are biological siblings, reader is 20 years old, reader befriends Kaminari and Sero, Reader uses "Cattus" as her alias, reader's nicknames are Cactus and Cattus, a man insults you a ton and Aizawa by extent, mentions of drinking, two characters aren't from MHA but are there for the plot, bonding time with one of Aizawa's old friends, spoilers (?), Bakugou challenges you to a fight, a tualia is a type of duel for reference, Sero has an unnamed younger sister, lmk if I forgot anything
Pairing(s): Katsuki Bakugou x Reader
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ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ: To the Victors Go the Spoils
You weren’t really sure what you expected, but it sure wasn’t this. 
The men tasked with recruiting the lot of you forced you all into a straight line, as another one loaded the men of your village into vehicles similar to a hay wagon, one by one, asking you for both your name and address to make sure every family was accounted for. You counted 4 wagons total, along with four others that were filled with wooden barrels. 
You swallow nervously, feeling a stab of guilt run through you as you remember your sleeping family at home.  
You knew it was wrong, it felt so foreign, an out of body experience to be standing where you were at that moment, knowing that it was happening, but refusing to believe it was happening to you.  
But it was, and you couldn’t jeopardize everything due to emotions that wouldn’t benefit you in the future. 
Yet, you remembered the picture of your family, and your mind couldn’t help but wonder what they’d say, if things were in better circumstances.  
What if you lived in a world where women could go to war too? 
What would your family say when you left to go protect them and your country? 
Your father would place a hand on top of your head in affection, telling you to come home soon and safe, and that he was proud.  
Toshi would’ve teased you, saying you had a “hero complex” and that you worked too hard for your own good.  
Which wasn’t true- but Hitoshi sure loved to poke fun when he could.  
All part of being your brother you surmised.  
Eri would’ve maybe cried a little bit, whining that you were leaving her with “stinky Toshi” and that you better not get hurt, but if you did, she would be there to heal you up when you came home.  
You would leave, and they would have large smiles on their faces, with Eri yelling “BYE CATTUS!” at the top of her lungs.  
Like your friends, your younger sister had an affinity for nicknames as well, once hearing Izuku refer to you as “Cactus” for the first time when she was around six, the same age you were when you started sword fighting.  
Eri had recently lost her two front teeth, attempting to say “Cactus” with difficultly, and saying Cactus instead. Needless to say, everyone found it both endearing and amusing, so it stuck.  
You smiled weakly to yourself, and a harsh voice snaps you out of your thoughts.  
“Oi, you enjoying your daydream? Shit like that’ll get you killed.” he says, eyes narrowed and cold.  
You frown, but say nothing, prompting the man to snap at you again. 
“Whaddya call yourself daydreamer?” he says, almost condescendingly.  
“Cattus.” you blurt, the first name that popped up in your mind. “Cattus Aizawa.” 
He raises an eyebrow at the mention of your surname, a bemused smirk tugging at his lips.  
“An Aizawa huh? Didn’t know Shota would tolerate such a dim-witted man living in his house. How old are you kid?”  
“T-Twenty...” you stammer, the words each a sting to your heart, knowing they technically didn’t apply to you but for now, they had to.  
The man snorts, laying a hand on your shoulder, seemingly an act of affection but there was no warmth in his tone as he says, “Well Cattus Aizawa keep daydreaming and let’s just say that your old pops’ll lose more than just his one leg.”  
Rage bubbles inside of you, but before you could properly retort, you’re shoved into the “hay-wagon” almost completely filled with other men, some you recognized to be from your village, but others were entirely new faces, but you heard that they’d been rounding up men all night, meaning these men were here all night, from different villages.  
Some looked terrible, a few sobbing their hearts out, some haggard and silent.  
Others, not so much, going as far as to bring tankards of beer in celebration as they cheer alongside their comrades, triumphant as they honorably leave to fight for their home.  
You let your eyes wander, not letting their antics affect you in any way. Men like that, they had nothing to lose. Willing to risk your life for your country was no doubt noble in your mind, but these men never experienced loss, or death. Which made sense, given that the kingdom of Bellorant was prosperous when it came to war, casualties were few and victories were countless.  
And yet, war was war, and a life was a life. You wanted to cry just like the other men you saw, but you also knew that this was your choice, and that the alternative was worse.  
Your eyes lock onto a familiar red head in the distance when you feel your heart drop. Ejiro. 
He was the oldest male of his family too, given that his mother had left his biological father and remarried another woman, living with her wife, Ejiro, and his younger sisters, who were twins.  
Fuck. 
You wish you could push him out of the way, send him back to his family, alive and well. But you couldn’t, knowing that you had your own family to protect, and that you had to trust that he’d protect himself.  
Still, you felt sick to your stomach, watching the red head you grew up with chuckle nervously and mount the wagon that reeked of death and destruction.  
Taking in another shaky breath, you rub your index finger against your thumb in an attempt to ground yourself. Retreat. You would make it back home, as would Ejiro. You had to.  
You spot Izuku’s brother Tenko on the same wagon Ejiro was on, feeling another pang of sadness for the man, though you didn’t know him all that well. He was a little of a loner, you knew, and didn’t really interact with him much.  
But a life was a life regardless.  
You feel someone tap you on your shoulder, whipping your face around to see a boy around your age, most likely from another village.  
His hair was his most defining feature, though, bright yellow with a black streak that resembled a lightning bolt to you. Golden eyes analyzed you briefly before he grins, sliding in to join you on the floor where you sat, offering you half the loaf of bread he carried.  
“Hi there!” he beams, acting as if the two of you were lifelong friends. “You looked pretty lonely, so I figured I’d give you some bread.” 
You blink, tentatively taking it and nibbling the crust. It was fresh, and lightly floured- something only those with a higher society standing could afford.  
“Thank...you?” You say, unsure of what to say, those golden eyes staring at you for a moment of silence before letting out a loud laugh that makes a few of the other men in the wagon look in your direction.  
“Y’know... no one’s ever gotten ol’ Fern Bat over there to crack anything other than a scowl- you must be special.” he says, nudging your shoulder.  
“Fern Bat...?” you ask warily, not sure if you wanted an answer to the question.  
He grins wolfishly, looking at the man that insulted your father earlier. “Old man’s so uptight that he reminded me of a Fern Bat, what with his pinched face and so many wrinkles that he’s eternally pruning.” 
You snort at that, and the man next to you whoops in celebration. 
“He smiles!” the blonde cheers, and the pronoun change catches you off guard.  
Just another thing you’ll have to get used to.  
Extending your hand, you offer your pseudonym.  
“Cattus Aizawa.” 
“Denki Kaminari.” 
*** 
You dozed off at some point during the ride over to wherever they were taking you- the capital you think, you weren’t sure. 
Denki was snoring away, using your shoulder as a pillow, and you made no movement to shove him off, knowing he was probably as exhausted as you were. The majority of the other men were asleep as well, for the exception of yourself and those who were still silently crying. Everyone else was out cold, and most likely drunk. 
Trying to crane your head around without waking up Denki, you see that the sun was setting,  
The ride to the capital of Bellorant, Vitoris, was a week-long journey, you knew, so you made yourself comfortable, mentally preparing yourself for the trip ahead.  
The week went by in a blur, you learned a lot about Denki during that time.  
His mother and grandfather ran a bakery where they sold pastries and baked goods in his village, which was located in the wealthier areas of Bellorant, as you predicted. His father and mother split when he was very young, similar to Ejiro, you noted, and he, like you, had never fought in a battle before.  
As far as he knew, Cattus Aizawa was pretty much just like you- you found no need to lie about your life, other than the fact that you weren’t a male.  
He said that Hitoshi reminded him of his grandfather, and you laughed, picturing your brother as a wrinkled old man.  
Throughout the week, you ended up stopping at other villages as well, another man by the name of Hanta Sero joined your little group that you formed, whom you soon found out had a little sister around Eri’s age.  
The three of you kept each other company in that way, entertaining each other with stories of your respective pasts.  
And just like that, you reached Vitoris as the sky showed signs of early dawn.  
Or, not really Vitoris, but the by the outskirts of it, an area nicknamed Polemori’s Grounds.  
Polemori was the goddess of war in Bellorant, which is why you thought it was befitting given that the area would be used for military training. 
Yet, you couldn’t help but feel concerned, given that Ejiro and Tenko’s wagon was nowhere in sight. In fact, it was only your wagon that stopped here, along with one filled with supplies. - you watched the other three wagons disappear down the path, eyes lingering on the one you knew housed the shark-toothed man, before turning away.  
Maybe it was a good thing you two weren’t together- he would recognize you immediately.  
The two soldiers at the head of the wagon, Fern Bat and the other that the three of you dubbed Moss Bear due to his resemblance to the ursine species that was a probably the size of a common dog. Harmless, but it looked intimidating.  
They instructed you to set up the tents kept in the other hay wagon, and once that was done, you were to store all the food and weapons into their larger tent.  
There were about fifty men in your wagon, all asleep to some degree, stumbling out and scrambling around to get to work.  
While you set up your tent, you took in your surroundings a bit, noting a lake a decent distance away from camp, as well as the gates of Vitoris miles and miles away, barely visible.  
It was once the sun finally went down that you all finished, gathering around the campfire you all made, Denki and Hanta and you lay on the grass, exhausted.  
“We need to get tons of rest tonight.” Hanta groans, turning to face you. “I heard that tomorrow the captain is coming to train us personally.” 
Denki shudders “They call him “The War Dragon”. Load of bull if you ask me.” 
You huff, staring at the sky. You could see the stars this time.  
“What’s up with the people of Bellorant and nicknames?” you ask, quirking up an eyebrow.  
“A country of such great prosperity finds great significance in bestowing titles to those they deem worthy of it.” Hanta says, sounding so much like Toshinori that you laugh.  
Denki continues his train of thought, adding “And our country is filled with multitudes of people and places who are befitting of titles due to the enormity of our sheer awesomeness.” 
“You two are full of shit, you know that?” You chuckle, launching a fistful of grass blades at the two of them. “I bet you don't even know what “multitude” means.” 
Hanta barks out a laugh at that, leaving Denki spluttering, aghast. 
The rest of the night was spent in laughter, until Moss Bear told you it was past curfew- and that you should go to bed.  
But before you can leave you hear him say, “Aizawa, a moment, please.” 
You turn around, heart pounding. Did he find you out already?! 
“Yes...?” you ask warily. 
He sighs and gives you a fond smile.  
“I heard from Officer Tradeyn that you were Aizawa’s kid. Just wanted to apologize in advance, I know he can be a lot.” he says, patting your shoulder slightly, but awkwardly.  
You chuckle wryly, nodding in assent, also storing the information that Fern Bat’s name was Officer Tradeyn (you were still gonna call him Fern Bat though). “It’s okay- it's my fault for not being focused at the time.” 
Moss Bear squeezes your shoulder. “Your old man is proud of you.” 
Would he be? Your family would most definitely be awake by now and would’ve read the letter you left them. Would your father be worried, upset, disappointed even, for being so rash? 
Noticing the faraway look in your eyes, Moss Bear removes his hand, waving slightly. “I’ll let you sleep; you’ve got a big day ahead tomorrow. Goodnight, Cattus Aizawa.” 
You smile slightly. “Goodnight.” 
You enter your tent to see both Hanta and Denki fast asleep, pratically on top of each other at that. Tucking yourself into your bedroll, you try to get comfortable, even though you could feel small rocks poking you where your body contacted the ground.  
Uncomfortable as you were through, you finally fell into a dreamless sleep. 
The next morning, you awoke to the sign of clanging bells, groaning as you hear Fern Bat’s sharp and irritating voice screech “WAKE UP YOU USELESS WATER LILLIES!” 
Denki grumbles beside you “I’ll show you water lily...” 
You punch his arm warningly. “The captain arrived today, right? We have to make a good first impression.”  
Groaning, both Hanta and Denki get up begrudgingly, thankfully taking turns changing into the armored uniforms they provided you with. Each grabbing a sword from the rack, you join the other men in their formation, each spaced out in a large square, standing still.  
Each of you had a sword by your side, and you gripped it tightly, refusing to look anywhere but ahead. 
Suddenly, you hear a deep voice bark out “ATTENTION!” 
Everyone around you stands tall, in a salute, and you copy them, watching the owner of the voice walk into your vision.  
“M’name’s Katsuki Bakugou, and I’m yer captain.” he says, low and menacing, his voice had a raspy quality that shook you to your core. “Ya lot have probably never even held a sword before, and it’s my job to make sure ya don’t end up slitting your own throat on the battlefield from inexperience.” 
He scans the people in front of him before making eye contact with you.  
Staring directly into his vermillion eyes, you don’t waver as he says,  
“Let’s get started, shall we?” 
To say the least, training was boring. You sat through a demonstration of “The War Dragon’s” “superior fighting skills”, watching as he takes down Moss Bear in a mock fight, a feat you could probably do in half the time.  
Huffing under your breath, you mutter to Denki, “bastard’s a complete fake- this shit’s easy-” 
“HAH?!” you hear Captain Bakugou’s voice boom throughout the entire training field. All eyes turn to you. “THE FUCK DIDYA JUST SAY?!” 
“Well- I meant-” you stammer, face turning bright red, not realizing just how perceptive the captain was.  
“Fine then. You think yer so smart, eh?” he growls, marching up to you until you stood face to face, the red eyed blonde towering over you. “What’s yer name?” 
“C-Cattus.” you mutter. “Cattus Aizawa.” 
“Well then ‘Cattus Aizawa’,” he mocks, grabbing your shirt, gripping the fabric tight enough to rip it. “Let’s see how good ya are then hah? I challenge you to a tualia.”  
You steel yourself, forcing yourself to look him in his stupidly gorgeous eyes. Now wasn’t the time to fawn over a man like a flustered schoolgirl, nor was it the time to shy away from an opponent.  
You were a warrior.  
“To the victors go the spoils.” 
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ladykailitha · 8 months ago
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Sweet Home Indiana Part 5
Hey all! Heads up for those that missed my previous announcements, I'm going on vacation starting today for about a week.
No WIP Wednesday tomorrow as it's my niece's graduation, but it should be back on next week, depending on how late I get in.
We finally hit pinnacle douche Eddie and the beginning of his turn to the lovable Eddie we know and love.
Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4
****
Steve walked into his house after a long day at the shop to find Eddie in the kitchen making dinner. He stopped dead in his tracks and looked behind him at the door he clearly unlocked to get in and then back at Eddie.
“How the fuck did you get into my house?” he growled, throwing his keys in the dish by the door and kicking off his shoes.
Eddie didn’t even bother looking up from his dicing of vegetables. “Robin always forgets her keys, so you have to have a spare for her to get in, and because she’s so forgetful it has to be in the same spot.”
Steve let out an annoyed huff. “Under the second flower pot with duck.”
“Right in one, darlin’,” Eddie said, looking up at him with a grin.
“So is this your new strategy to get me to sign the divorce papers?” Steve asked pulling out a beer from the fridge. “Buttering me up?”
“Well,” Eddie said going back to his cutting, “since we’re still married and all with you refusing to sign the papers, I figured I’d just move back in.”
Steve dug around his crock drawer for the bottle opener. “Like you’d give up your cushy tattoo job up in Seattle.” He popped open the lid and took a sip.
He immediately went to the sink and spat it out. “What the fuck is that?!”
“Craft beer!” Eddie said with another grin. “It’s all the rage out on the West Coast. But anyway, I was in town and stopped by the furniture shop because that couch is hideous and has to go. And of course we're going to need a bigger bed.”
Steve scoffed and shook his head. “Whatever, babe. It’s your money.”
Eddie stopped chopping and said with all the innocence he could muster and said, “But Stevie, I thought it was our money.”
Steve who had opened a bottle of his own beer and was drinking it, suddenly froze. His throat still moved, swallow after swallow but the rest of him was stock still.
“I bet the words ‘joint checking account’ are flashing through your mind right now,” Eddie sneered.
Steve emptied his bottle and threw it into the sink with a loud crash. “How much did you take?”
Eddie turned around and faced him, crossing his arms over his chest. “All twenty-nine thousand eight hundred and sixty-seven dollars and fourteen cents.”
Steve’s jaw formed a hard set line and he clenched his fists. “You put it back, right now.”
“Why don’t you use it for something useful, Steve?” he asked, waving his hands in front of him. “You have a shop, why aren’t you putting the money toward that? Christ that is almost life changing money.”
Steve stormed out of the room and was back before he could even raise a protest. “This is what it’s for, asshole and if you don’t put it back I will never forgive you. Do you understand me?”
Eddie looked down at the papers in his hand in confusion, gingerly taking them from Steve. In big bold letters were the words NON DISCLOSURE AGREEMENT.
“Am I allowed to read this?” he asked with a gulp.
“It expired five years ago,” Steve bit out. “So yeah, otherwise I wouldn’t be giving it to you, would I?”
Eddie nodded and began reading. The date was roughly three or four months after he left and god was it a mess. It chronicled Susan Hargrove’s addictions to drugs, alcohol, and sex. And that if Steve wanted custody of her daughter, Maxine Maxwell he had to jump through so many hoops, including signing the NDA. His hand shook as he turned page after page of what boiled down to fifteen page document.
“The money is part of the settlement from the court,” Steve said through gritted teeth. “I put it in the old account because I didn’t feel like opening another one and forgot your name was still on it. It pays for her schooling, rent, and food until it’s gone.”
Eddie’s lip quivered. “Shit, Steve, I’m sorry. But I’m still in contact with most of the kids. Even Max and no one told me about this. Not ever.”
Steve frowned and took the pages from Eddie’s trembling hands. “I thought you knew. Hell, it was more than a nine day wonder here in town when the dust finally settled.”
Eddie thought for a moment, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. The more he thought about it the more it actually made sense. And fuck if that didn’t hurt like a kick to the ribs.
One of his worst parting shots was that the kids would be fine on their own. They had parents and friends and other people who cared about them. But that fucking NDA proved him to be the biggest asshole in that regard. Because it irrefutable proof that he had been dead wrong about that.
“Fuck,” he whispered, drawing his hands over his face. “It’ll be back in there by tonight, I swear. I’m so, so sorry, Steve. I swear I am. I know you won’t believe me and that’s okay. But I would never do anything that would harm those kids. Not if my life depended on it.”
Steve’s bottom lip quivered and then he pinched his nose and rubbed the end. And fuck if that didn’t break Eddie’s heart. That was Steve’s little tell that he was fighting back tears.
“You really didn’t know?” he asked, his voice cracking.
Eddie shook his head. “I didn’t know. Here...” he pulled out his phone and immediately transferred the money back. He had transferred it in several small amounts as to not trigger that that Fed law thingy and reversed every one of them. “All back.”
Steve let out a shuddering breath. “Were you really going to blackmail me with the money to divorce you?”
Eddie hung his head and let out a sigh of his own. “I can’t tell you why, but me and Chrissy are on a timetable and if we don’t get married by certain date, things can go very badly. So yeah. I was going to do whatever it took.”
Steve’s bottom lip quivered so him bit down on it to stop it shaking.
“Come on,” Eddie murmured. “Let me finish making dinner and we’ll talk. I think there are a lot of things between us left unsaid. I thought it was all on my side, but I’m starting to think there has been a lot of things that I haven’t been told about what’s being going on with you and this town.”
Steve nodded.
****
It took Steve a fair bit of breathing techniques to get his heart rate back to normal after that little stunt. And if he was honest, he couldn’t say had their situations been reversed, he wouldn’t have tried the same thing.
But there wasn’t anyone in his life right now that measured up to Eddie. Or at least that starry-eyed boy he fell in love with the first time.
Eddie had actually made his favorite meal. Manicotti. He had been cutting up the vegetables for the bolognese sauce that he poured over the top.
They sat down on the hideous neon green sofa while it went into the oven to cook.
“This sofa really is grotesque, Steve,” Eddie muttered, bringing one knee up so he could turn and face him.
Steve threw back his head and laughed. “That’s what everyone has said once they’ve seen it.”
“So why keep it?”
He ran his fingers over the worn surface thoughtfully. “Because despite how ugly it looks, it’s soft and comfortable. Great for naps and movie nights. If I spill something on it, I won’t freak out about it getting ruined.”
Eddie’s heart sank to his stomach. That was something that had made having movie nights over at Steve’s parents’ house such a nightmare. No feet on the sofa, no drinks anywhere but on the coffee table with a coaster, no dips or salsa, nothing red or orange, drinks or otherwise. It was the biggest house with the biggest screen, but it was a museum and not a home.
He actually looked around him for the first time, taking in the homey surroundings, the pictures on the wall of not just Steve and Robin, but all the kids. Birthdays, graduations, dances, you name it, if Steve was there with a camera, it was there up on his wall in some way.
The house was neat, but in a lived in sort of way instead of the strict tomb quality of his parents’ house. Christ. He had been joking about wanting to move back, but now he actually did. He could see himself slotting himself into this home as easy as breathing.
Eddie cleared his throat. “Right. So how long have you had this place?”
“About three years now,” Steve murmured. “That’s about when the shop started making a profit and not just coasting along above red.”
“I like it,” he said with a fond smile.
Steve gave his shoulder a shove. “You do not. You don’t need to pretend with me.”
Eddie grasped his hands to his chest. “Ah! I doth protest!” He paused for a moment and tapped his lips thoughtfully. “You’re right, I don’t like it.”
“See?” Steve scoffed, rolling his eyes.
“I love it.”
Steve stared at him for a moment before blushing and looking away. “So how long have you and Chrissy known each other?”
“Two years,” Eddie replied. “She came in for a tattoo to cover up the name of her ex-boyfriend and we became really good friends.”
“And she’s a paralegal?” Steve asked.
“Legal assistant,” Eddie said. “Don’t ask me what the difference is, I don’t know. But she’ll always correct people when they say ‘paralegal’.”
Steve nodded.
“So, is it just you and Robin?” he asked, looking around the house for clues there was another person here. Either for Steve or for Robin.
“Yeah,” Steve said with a sad smile. “But not for much longer. She’s starting school in the fall. She just needs to pick which one she wants and let the other know she’s pulling out.”
“Yeah?” Eddie asked. “What are her choices?”
“NYU and University of Washington,” Steve said. “I don’t get wanting to go to either except to get as far away from Hawkins as possible and still be in the country.”
Eddie laughed. “Well can you blame her?”
Steve leveled him with a glare and Eddie gulped.
“Right, sorry. That was a shit thing to say,” he said ducking his head. “I ran away and kept running away and you didn’t deserve that.”
“So why did you? Run away, I mean?”
Eddie ran his fingers over his face and let out frustrated sigh. “I thought it was what I wanted. The fame, the fortune, the screaming crowds every night. And maybe it still is, but the other guys got tired of it. Of the being away from family and on the road all the time, so by the time that all fell apart, it was just too much.”
Steve cocked his head to the side and regarded Eddie fully. He took him all in and not just the cursory glance he got at the bakery.
Eddie had filled out in a good way. He would always be thin, but he was no longer that waif he was in high school. He had more tattoos, which made sense considering his job. His hair was still as wild and untamed as always. He had stubble on his jaw and on his upper lip. There was a weariness to those dark brown chocolate button eyes.
“What was too much, Eddie?”
“The amount of pain I put you through,” he said softly. “And continued to put you through. You didn’t deserve any of it, sweetheart. You deserve a white wedding with all your friends and loved ones around you. You deserve to have someone standing by your side as an equal partner. You deserve someone who isn’t going to run the moment things get rough.”
“I always thought that would be you,” Steve admitted.
Eddie nodded. “So did I, once upon a time.”
“But not anymore?” Steve asked, breathless.
“No. Not anymore.”
****
Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10
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fresh-new-yoik-watah · 2 months ago
Text
DUPLICITY :
chapter 1 – What's Worth Revenge
“There are two ways to be fooled; one is to believe what isn’t true, the other is to refuse to believe what is”
author's note : been rewriting the earlier chapters of this story before I continue it, and I like this wayyyy better. pairing : Hiccup x Aja (OC) warnings :  none! but please feel free to let me know if I miss anything word count :  1.7k masterlist
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A thick layer of fog hung over the ocean, preventing anyone on board from being able to see beyond the tip of their own nose, shrouding the wooden ship in a cold, damp blanket. Aja stood at the bow, her fingers gripped tightly onto the railing as the large boat swayed back and forth, avoiding the intense gaze of the tall man beside her. They had been there for a few minutes in silence, minutes that felt like hours to her, before she exhaled a small breath, emitting a misty puff out from between her parted lips.
“Maybe we shouldn’t do this,” she whispered.
She waited, keeping her blue eyes locked onto the endless expanse of water, preparing herself for the man’s response. There wasn’t much time left before they were expected to reach Berk, not much time left to convince him to turn around.
He spoke, voice deep and slow. “You wish to let the monster free?” He was testing her.
“No!” She hated how quickly she said it, hated how scared she was of upsetting him, it made her feel like a child despite being twenty-one years old. ”But every dragon you’ve taken hasn’t brought her back. This one won’t change that. You don’t even know it’s actually there.”
Aja faced him, hoping she’d be able to instill some doubt, convince him it wasn’t worth it anymore. Eight long years passed since he finally completed his senseless revenge, since he slaughtered the “last” Night Fury. Only, it wasn’t the last. Three weeks prior, they were tipped off that one still lived, residing on Berk. One had escaped his grasp, tucked away, and his desire and taste for blood came surging right back, as if the years were nothing.
“I vowed to rid this world of the devils, for as long as I live. Shame you do not wish to avenge your mother the same.” His brown eyes were narrowed at her, his gaze hard and unyielding. She shrunk just a bit under his stare, fighting to ignore the sting in her chest and tried again.
“It seems too rushed, Berk will not welcome us as strangers.” Vikings were naturally distrustful, she knew first hand, generations of pillaging and raids tended to do that, and Aja would’ve rather not be met by angry, and most likely armed, Vikings.
“We are there to establish trade, as a small island with diminishing resources.” He answered matter of factly. “Perhaps you should’ve been left with Magnus if you doubt your Chief this much.”
She kept her face still, trying to not let her father’s words sink their teeth. The salty spray of the ocean kissed her freckled cheeks as she inhaled, ready to speak again, but it was not her voice that came from her open mouth, instead one of man’s.
“Ragnor! We need to discuss our course, it’s urgent!” One of her father’s men emerged from behind the curtain of fog, his gloved hand raised to shield his eyes against the pick up of wind.
Ragnor’s thick, dark brows furrowed together. The skin between them wrinkled into deep lines, lines that had been permanently forged by the many years of grief. He dismissed the man and faced his daughter.
“There’s a few more days before we reach Berk, I suggest you realign your loyalty, or you will remain on the ship. Your mind cannot be distracted.” His voice then softened, as if remembering he was still her father, and added, “Go rest, you will need your strength.”
He left her alone at the bow, his wolfskin cloak being the last thing to disappear as he walked into the fog. Aja squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed the growing lump in her throat, determined not to cry. She would try again tomorrow, she had to.
The stairs creaked beneath her boots as she climbed down to the lower deck, each step a reminder of the distance between her and the man she once knew. She crawled into her hammock; the thin fabric cradled her while she pulled the wool blanket tighter around her shoulders. The sway of the ship was supposed to be soothing, but it only served to amplify her thoughts. She attempted to summon a memory of her mother’s face, but all that came were blurry features, a jigsaw puzzle of indistinct shapes and brown hair. She attempted to recall the warmth of her embrace, the sound of her laughter, but the details remained elusive, like grains of sand slipping between her fingers. A hollow, painful, ache formed in Aja’s chest, realizing how much of her mother had been lost to time, replaced instead by her father’s darkened heart. Tears pricked the corners of her shut eyes, and she let out a shaky breath, curling up tighter in her hammock and drew the blanket closer, as if it could shield her from the world outside. The exhaustion of her thoughts eventually took its toll, and the rhythmic rocking was able to lull her into a restless sleep.
The sound of footsteps made Aja blink awake. She wasn’t sure how long she had slept, maybe a few hours. The room was now completely dark, and another woman could be heard snoring a few feet away. Aja sat up, the remnants of sleep falling away as she listened carefully, focusing up at the ceiling. More footsteps and whispering tickled her ears, coming from directly above her. She stepped out of her hammock, moving quietly as she felt her way along the dark corridor, using her hands against the wood wall to guide her, following the sound. The whispers grew clearer as she climbed up the stairs, each footfall soft and deliberate. Dense fog greeted her once she emerged into the night, obscuring her vision immediately and turning what would’ve been familiar shapes into shadowy figures. She squinted into the darkness, stepping around blindly as she strained her ears, listening for the voices again.
She heard something move to her right, and spun her head, locking eyes with her father. Surprise flickered across his face, barely a flash of raised brows, but he masked it quickly with his usual scowl. As fast as it went, Aja still had noticed the falter. His posture was tense, and she couldn’t quite read his new expression, but she felt the heaviness of something between them, something unsaid.
“Dad?” She whispered hesitantly, as the sound of her pounding heart filled her ears, making her head throb. “What’s going on?”
Ragnor surged forward, scooping her up in a swift motion. Aja had no time to process what was happening as the world spun around her. “No!” She cried out, but it was too late. With a forceful heave, she was tossed over the side of the ship.
Her body plunged into the frigid water. The shock of the cold sent a jolt through her limbs as she felt her skin sting, like it was being pricked by thousands of needles, pressing hard, threatening to break the barrier of flesh. She kicked her legs, frantically trying to find the surface in the expanse of darkness.
She felt it first, a deep rumble in the water, shoving her around, then she heard the muffled BOOM, and the sky was lit orange, illuminating the sea. Splintered wood and debris rained into the ocean, narrowly missing her as she used the light to find the surface. She broke through, gasping for air as she coughed and heaved, struggling to keep her head above the angry waves that threatened to pull her back down. All she saw was red, bright red and gold as the sky became painted like a sunset. Only it wasn’t a sunset. Her ship was entirely engulfed in flames.
It was chaos. Aja could barely hear the cries of the crew over the crackling, angry blaze, unable to make out any figure through the fire, but their anguished screams were proof they were still there, still alive to feel themselves burn into ash. She tried to yell for her father, spinning her head around back and forth as she flailed against the waves, panickingly searching for a glimpse of him anywhere, hoping that by some miracle he had managed to jump off the ship after throwing her, but she only found that the sea around her had become a graveyard of splintered planks, their jagged points now a threat as the waves tossed them hard against her. She had to get away.
She swam, muscles straining as she fought against the current to pull herself away from the ship. She could feel the heat of the flames lick her back, still dangerously close as she struggled to grow the distance, but she was determined to survive; she would not die out there.
Aja weaved between the pieces of debris, only able to narrowly avoid the larger ones that could cause lethal damage. Smaller pieces had already lodged themselves into the flesh of her legs, piercing through the fabric that wrapped them. Just as she thought she had evaded the worst, something sharp pierced her side, striking against her rib cage. The pain was explosive. She felt the warmth of her blood pooling out, mingling with the ocean’s chill, making her feel nauseous as dark dots began to prick her vision. She gasped, struggling to control her limbs, finding it now impossible to stay afloat.
No! This isn’t supposed to happen.
Instinct overcame her, her body now focused solely on survival. With excruciating effort, she began to transform. Her muscles began to reshape, her arms and legs morphing into thick, golden limbs with claws, and large, speckled, bat-like wings grew from her now scaled back. She turned into a dragon.
Aja glided through the water like she had hundreds of times before in this other form, no longer bound by the weight of her injuries. The ocean became her ally as the currents propelled her away from the wreckage, the waves now cradling her, guiding her toward safety, toward an unseen shore. Once coming into contact with sand, she broke free from the water, and climbed her way up, dragging her heavy body onto the beach. Her energy waned with each step, the pulsing pain in her side making her stumble on the uneven, soft ground. Each breath out of her flattened nostrils felt more labored than the last, and she could feel her limbs become heavier. She collapsed onto the sand, succumbing to exhaustion as the grains muffled the thud. As she laid there, her body transformed back into its weaker, human self. Her vision grew blurred and hazy as she blinked ferociously, struggling to focus her sight, to stay awake. Eventually, darkness enveloped her, and she slipped into unconsciousness.
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two-white-butterflies · 2 years ago
Text
coaxed you into paradise - c. 22
Description: The life of Saera Targaryen told in four acts. She was her father's forgotten daughter, cast aside as she looked nothing like her mother. Her younger days were spent beside her uncle. Years following her marriage with Ser Harwin Strong, she catches him in an affair with her older sister. She returns to seek solace in the arms of her uncle, that she's loved all her life.
(Coaxed You Into Paradise and High Infidelity Rewrite.)
masterlist for this series
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Chapter Twenty-Two: The Aftermath
Saera and Daemon were still wearing their wedding attires - the faint smell of dragon permeated through the air. The entire council was rigid, not seeming to understand the calamity of the situation. “An explanation would suffice.” Viserys opened his mouth, disappointed with his brother. 
“Nyke jorrāelagon zirȳla, lēkia. (I love her, brother)” he reasoned, keeping his fingers entwined with his wife’s. “I am your king. You will address me properly.” he raised his voice, feeling betrayed with their lack of judgment. “We married in the sight of our gods, and the tradition of our family, your grace.” Saera replied quickly - not wanting to anger her father. 
Viserys placed a hand on his forehead - in a state of confusion. 
“May I remind you that you are married, Saera. To Ser Harwin, who has been kind.” Lord Lyonel clears his throat - earning a bitter chuckle from Saera. He bore respect for his good-daughter, but not enough of it to stomach this betrayal. “Things have been put to right, your grace.” She ignored Lyonel. 
“Put to right, princess? I do not understand your judgment - when you have betrayed your children, husband and the faith.” Viserys scolded, trying to ignore his brother’s glare. Saera rests her hand on her husband’s shoulder. “We have done no wrong. It is my right to take as many spouses as I wish. It is what Aegon the Conqueror did with his sister-wives.” she argued, 
The doors burst open behind them, her eyes widened slightly as she realized that it was Ser Harwin - fuming with rage. Viserys’ eyes narrowed - a silent understanding that none of the three would go down without a fight. “Is it true?” he asked softly, taking a step forward to gather Saera’s hands - but she moved away. “I am your husband, Saera.” he pointed at her - scolding her. 
“You are not the only one, Harwin.” Daemon points his sword at the man. 
Lord Lyonel pulls his son to the side - whispering a string of words in his ears. With every word, his face became redder and redder - until the anger was too much to bear. He draws his sword - aiming it at the Rogue Prince, but Daemon pushes him down with ease. 
King Viserys stands up, and everyone’s attention turns to him. 
“You are all dismissed - I request for Princess Saera, Prince Daemon and Ser Harwin to remain.” he clears his throat. The people of this realm had their own opinions about the monarchs that governed them - but he’d be damned if the people of his council had their reservations about his family. 
Saera sat down in the middle of her two-husbands, playing nervously with her necklace. She was afraid that her father would exile her uncle, leaving her alone in the den of vipers. “Why did you do it, my daughter?” Viserys’ voice softened, attempting to appeal to his daughter. “I love him, kepa.” she confessed, not wanting to spend another moment hovering over the subject. 
“- and I love the gold cloaks, but I don’t find myself marrying them.” Harwin snided, glaring daggers into his wife’s petite frame. He was a kind husband to her - never taking anything that she hasn’t willingly given. Why did she betray him? “Because the gold cloaks don’t love you.” Daemon rolled his eyes, playing with the Dark Sister on the table. 
“It is unjust,” Saera mumbles, using her free hand to rub circles on Daemon’s back. “Harwin ēza zȳhon qogror, se iksan mērī. (Harwin gets his pleasure, and I am alone)” she grits her teeth, angry at her lack of freedom. 
“Qogror lēda qilōni? (Pleasure with who?)” Viserys inquires, feigning innocence of a topic that he had full knowledge about. “Rhaenyra!” she spat, and Harwin’s eyes widened. “What does she have to do with this?” he panicked, earning a chuckle from Daemon. 
“Calm down, boy, they know nothing about paramour.” he teased with a smirk, returning his gaze back to the king. “Skorkydoso iksis ziry bona ēzi hāre nādrēsy? (How is it that they have three bastards?)” she inquired with a stoic face. “- and the king does nothing about it?” she insinuated, angering her father even more. “Keskydoso ñuhoso se dārys gaomas daorun nūmāzma aōha nādrēsy. (The same way the king does nothing about your bastards.)” he raised his voice, and Saera’s eyes widened in shock. 
Her father knew. 
And he didn’t punish her? 
“There are things that we tolerate for the betterment of our house. Your sister’s children, and your children.” he adjusted plainly in the common tongue, raising Harwin’s suspicion. “Tolerate our children?” he asked, unable to understand their conversation. “Can you stop acting stupid? We know that Rhaenyra’s sons are yours.” Daemon articulated, unamused with his brother’s discovery. 
“Nonsense.” Harwin scoffed, still denying the accusations. 
“Skorkydoso gōntan ao gīmigon? (How did you know?)” Saera inquired, surprised by her father’s cleverness. Viserys’ face softened, thinking about Alyssa and Daegon. “Pōnta jurnegon hae Daemon. Aōha laehurlion iksis rāpa - se sīr iksis Harwin's. (They looked like Daemon. Your face is soft - and so is Harwin’s.)” he explained, bringing forth his analysis. 
“I have only two conditions for Saera.” the King cleared his throat. 
“What is it?” she asked, 
“Never speak of the princes’ bastardy, and to always support Rhaenyra.” he levied, and she nodded. “I agree,” she smiled - joyous that her father approved of her marriage with Daemon. 
“Papa!” Alyssa smiled - giggling as she ran to embrace her father. “Good morrow, Alyssa - did you have fun?” he asked and she nodded. “Bluefyre missed you.” she hummed, quickly settling down on a chair. “He always tries to bite me, darling.” he chuckled - his attention turns towards his son, and all semblance of warmth disappears from his features. 
The only child of his that was without a dragon. 
“Good morrow, Daegon.” his lips turned into a thin line. “Good morrow.” the boy replied, while browsing through his new book. “What are you doing here?” he asked coldly and the Twins shared a glance. “Shouldn’t you be in the dragonpit, searching for dragons?” he asked - not liking the frown on his son’s face. “Muña has forbidden me to go there,” he responded. 
“How else will you have a dragon?” Harwin inquired. 
Daegon shrugs - not wanting to spend another second talking. 
Daemon smiles - attempting to make his way down the small crevice known as Caraxes and Melarys’ nest. In all honesty - he wanted to bed his new wife, but the servants were still preparing their chambers. “Get the gold one!” Saera yelled, watching as his body disappeared from view. 
“Be silent. Do you want that cheeky dragon of yours to find out?” he yelled in return. “That we’re stealing her children? I don’t think she’ll mind.” she responded with a giggle, watching his shadow place a few dragons on his bag. 
“Get two - so that Daegon will have a little variety.” she commanded, and he mumbled a few words about his demanding wife. “I’ll get three for our future children,” he chuckled, pulling the rope so that the dragonkeepers would know to lift him. 
He emerges from the cave - covered in ash and dirt. He holds an extra egg on his arms. It was white - like Melarys, and shining among the stars. “He’ll like this one.” she mumbled, excited to present the eggs to her firstborn. 
“Do you like it?” Daemon inquired, ruffling the little boy’s hair. “Yeah.” the boy lied - knowing deep in his heart that this one wouldn’t hatch. “Daegon,” his mother whispers before cupping both of his cheeks. “Without a dragon, I will never be a Targaryen.” he looked down. 
“Without a dragon, you will never share the curse of being a Targaryen.” Daemon corrected - reminding his son that being Targaryen was both a present and a curse. 
“There were Targaryens before you that didn’t have dragons - and they had their own stories. There were Targaryens before you that had dragons after reaching their majority - and their prowess exceeds those that had dragons while they were children.” Saera explained, not wanting to put his child out of place. She pressed a soft kiss on his forehead. 
She was one of the few mothers in court that showed affection to their children. It was forbidden - as they believed that it would make their sons weak. Saera never believed those - she raised her children with love. “Go for a walk with the egg - try to figure out if it’s the perfect fit.” Daemon advised, also pressing a kiss on his forehead.
next chapter>>  
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enullarts · 11 months ago
Note
Prompt: Character of your choice holding their baby/babies for the first time!
Gonna go with my Tav, Malek, and Halsin welcoming their first cubs
Content: tmpreg, mentions of birth, shadowheart/Tav/Halsin
Neither of them could have predicted that their first meeting would evolve over time into this. From that fateful day in the abandoned church, a lost and haughty half drow boy of 38 encountering the wildshaped archdruid ten times his age and helping him walk free again.
Since that day, they and their companions experienced countless things together: battles, failures, wins, losses, and most of all, freedom, all of it shared between the entire party like they couldn't dream of ever being apart. Yet after the battle had been won, it was just that. The group fell apart. However, in a secluded part of the woods in a newly restored farmhouse, three companions were together for this moment.
--
"I can see the head! Just a little more..!"
"Mph... by the Oak father's graces, I'm truly not the right age to be doing this."
Malek's eyes move up to catch his lover's eyes and he smiles softly, a hand reaching up to cup the laboring man's face. "You're so close, my love... One more push."
Halsin sighs, leaning into the touch exhaustedly. He says nothing, but his body responds for him as he grits his teeth and mumbles one last prayer to Silvanus before his body clenches powerfully once more and a final squalling baby elf is delivered right into the half-drow's waiting arms. The former archdruid all but collapses into the pillow nest behind him, catching his breath and admiring the scene before him. His beloved chosen partner, cooing softly as he cleans off their latest newborn and swaddles them carefully before presenting them to him again.
"Another girl." Malek smiles, eyes shining with tears not yet fallen and he turns to retrieve the other two cubs who were born ten and twenty minutes earlier, handing the eldest baby to Halsin while craddling the middle child himself. "Three girls."
"Looks like we'll have our hands full for the next hundred years or so." Shadowheart chimed in with a teasing smile as she entered the room with more clean towels and hot water to help wipe Halsin clean from the birth. She sits down on Halsin's bedside and places a kind hand on his thigh, all snark no bite as usual and she begins wetting the rags to begin wiping him down.
Malek in the meantime is quiet, not uncommon for him, but Halsin can practically smell his concern. "My heart.." He begins before Malek shakes his head.
"I'm alright ... Truly." He smiles at Halsin reassuringly before gazing down at the baby girl in his arms. She had a faint greyish blue hue to her skin, unlike her sisters who all seemed to have taken more towards the olive undertones of wood elves. "I'm just ..."
He recalls his own parents, a father he never knew for he had been cut down for betraying his matriarch after having fallen in love with a human. His human mother who, try as she might, could not afford to raise him in her state of anguish over her beloved's death. He had been raised mainly by his mother's friend, until they too died under mysterious circumstances.
Carefully, he presses the baby close to his heart, his cheek gently resting on top of the baby's head. "I'm happy..." He looks up at Halsin as tears escape his eyes
Halsin smiles knowingly, having handed the youngest baby to Shadowheart to hold. "So am I, my love ..."
Shadowheart smiles too before going back to cooing over her new daughter.
None of them have to say it out loud, but the fact their children will grow up with parents means the world to them.
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rosesnink · 11 months ago
Text
Orc Meets Girl
Author's Notes
This is a silly idea I had a few weeks ago, when @storyofmychoices and I started talking about our OCs, and today I decided to finish it! I hope that you like this, Dani, and that it is enough to keep you from nasty haters.
English is not my first language, so please forgive any mistakes/typos I might've done
Daenarya belongs to @storyofmychoices , I simply borrowed the character for this
Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in my Blades writing!
Summary: During a party in the tavern of Riverbend, Brienne notices a beautiful woman who stands out among the crowd.
Word Count: 773
Category: Fluff, LGBTQA+
Rating: G
Book: Blades of Light and Shadow
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The party in Riverbend had gone out of hand. People were extremely drunk, although Brienne was content to stay by the bar and observe people. Among them stood out one girl. She had brown skin and dark hair, bobbing her head to the rhythm. She was definitely beautiful, not to mention there was something about her aura that simply spoke to Brienne.
Asking the bartender to pass along a hearty corn of ale, she waited for the woman to notice the drink… and her. She looked at the drink, then at Brienne, who stood among the crowd, emerald green skin with a considerable size and dark hair, not to mention her horns. She raised her horn in gratitude and Brienne sauntered over, a confident smile on her face.
“I hope the drink’s to your taste.”
“I’ll never say no to a good ale.”
Brienne smiled, sitting next to her “You’re from here too?”
“Born and raised.”
“Me too.”
The girl seemed surprise. An orc in a human village was certainly a novelty. Brienne chuckled “I may be an orc, but I have been raised by humans. Dr. Kerrigan raised me as his own daughter.”
The girl listened, fascinated. Never in her twenty years has anyone ever seen someone like Brienne- She was strikingly tall, with a beautiful shade of emerald green and black freckles, maroon and black horns, and was of a considerable size. And her front teeth did not make her ugly like in the photographs. Her features were still beautiful: lightly plump cheeks, plump lips, very well-done eyebrows and long, dark hair, cascading all the way down her upper chest.
The human girl extended her hand “Daenarya.”
“Brienne.” She kissed it gallantly, and Daenarya smiled wider.
“Would you like to dance?”
“If you can keep up with me.”
Daenarya smirked “Let us see if you can keep up with me.”
Brienne laughed heartily, and both swirled and sang along the rather bawdy song playing. Spinning Daenarya, she whooped and giggled, enjoying Brienne’s strong and powerful arms. Spinning each other, Brienne’s pink tulle dress showed much of her skin: it had a daring cut, showing down till her navel, leaving her sizeable breasts to bob freely in her thin clothes, barely covering few of her wide legs and her hair was all over her hair from spinning and twirling.
The tone changed to a sultry one, and Daenarya dared to tuck one stray curl to her ear. Brienne smiled, drawing her close, dangerously close, feeling the heat in the tavern. Or perhaps it emanated from one another. She was perhaps the tallest person in the tavern, the whole village.
“Let’s get out of here.”
“Let’s.” Daenarya agreed.
They walked hand-in-hand through the dark streets, until they reached the outskirts, all dark save the bright full moon. Brienne observed her new companion closely: the moonlight made her skin glow, her brown hair looked ethereal and her brown eyes were even more striking under it.
They observed the stars silently, their hands grazing, yet not quite touching, but within reach.
“Do you ever dream of going to Flotilla?”
“Yes. I wish to see the Elements through their eyes, to be able to stargaze with their sights, to not be looked as some novelty…”
Daenarya looked at her “I haven’t thought much of how an orc would truly feel, living among humans, not quite an stranger, not quite a local.”
“I feel like an intruder sometimes. I fear that, one night, they might arrest me and sell me away to be some noble’s prized toy.”
Daenarya finally took her hands and looked into her eyes “Not anymore. Consider me a friend. Should you ever feel in danger, reach out to me. I will do everything in my power to keep you here.”
A smile creeped unto Brienne. The humans had been friendly and cordial, but none had been as sweet and caring as the beautiful Daenarya. It may sound silly, but Brienne’s heart fluttered.
“Might I kiss you, fair Daenarya?”
Daenarya instead got on her tiptoes and Brienne crouched down to kiss her. The kiss was sweet, and full of promise, and a beautiful blossoming friendship. A few minutes later, they separated and smiled to one another.
“It is late. We ought to go. We each have chores in the morning.”
Daenarya sighed “That we do.” She paused “Will I see you again?”
“Hopefully.”
She then disappeared into the shadows, her tall structure slowly becoming one with the dark and muddy streets of Riverbend, the promise of a good friendship between them, and the waning full moon.
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frnoialles · 24 days ago
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Name: Francoise "Frankie" Noialles Occupation: Manager at Soleil Age: 27 (248) Sexuality:Bi Species: Vampire (Pretorius) Hometown: Bordeaux, France Relationship Status: Single Personality Traits: immature, irresponsible, vivacious, chaotic, optimistic, loyal
Biography (tw: death, illness)
For years, she had wondered if her fate had been a blessing or a curse. A baby trapped beneath the ruins, saved by a woman who she thought had stepped down from the heavens; an angel that had looked down at that infant, cradled it in her arms and in an instant — called hers.
It's the story she's been told; of tragedy and loss, second chances and new beginnings, salvation and damnation. It's the lesson she's been taught; to come out of the chaos, with her teeth bloody and her fists clenched, because in a world so cruel, a fragile thing would never survive what fate has planned for them.
Some would say she had it easy, and in a way she has always known it was the truth. She grew up fortunate, golden in comparison to many, raised in nobility at the heart of France, where so many aspired to be. But money could only buy so much. What her mother didn't know, when she took that orphan in, was that the child had a diagnosis. Frankie didn't know herself, until she started getting worse, and worse. Weaker, sicker, sadder —
She was only a child then, and Lilia found some kind of temporary aid. That hospital room became her home, which they both decorated late at night with the silliest things. Picture frames and decorative flowers on the walls, small lights over her bed. Still, some would say she had it easy — fed with a silver spoon, dressed in velvet and silk, and naivety.
If there was one thing she believed in, it was that all things must come to their natural end. Like climbing a ladder to the heavens. From the moment one was born and put tiny feet on those steps — util they reached eternity's gates. Death was only natural, anything else was not. Perhaps, death and its presence always lurking near, was why she never took interest in anything beyond creating memories to leave behind. Frankie lacked ambition, strive to become something great — an astronaut, or a doctor; anything with purpose, a future. Because a future, wasn't something she thought she'd get to have. And she was okay with that.
Her mother wasn't.
Barely twenty years old, and flatlining, Francoise parted with her human life. And woke up — choking on new breath in her lungs, even if her heart remained still in her chest. Eternity's gates wide open before her, just not the ones she was hoping to see.
She found herself a child again — learning how to walk, how to talk, how to feed, how to spell her own name all over again. It took all her effort not to falter; not to stumble, or tremble, or bow her head in defeat. The first couple of years were hard, because this was France, because it was home — and France knew she was already gone.
Something in that mother-daughter bond snapped then. Their family crumbling to pieces, with Frankie leaving for Vienna (then Rome, Berlin, Prague) and her mother staying in France. But she was still her mother's undying flame — nights where she's held her close, and looked down at her with eyes that have seen too much, and told her they would never be without the other.
Headcanons
She has a nickname for almost everyone she meets, but especially her fledglings. This started a century ago, when she started naming them off book characters like the three little piggies. Pig 1, Pig 2, Pig 3, etc.
Doesn't take anything seriously, not if her damn life depends on it. Not if her job depends on it. There's always someone else doing her job for her at the Soleil.
Gets distracted very easily.
Talks so much, she can get herself out of any situation she wants.
Wanted connections
OOPS I DID IT AGAIN / Frankie has turned many humans into her proteges over the years. So many, they wouldn't fit in Port Liery, if they all dropped at its gate. That would be just another one of them.
TOXIC / A hunter she has met through the years, that had unsuccessfully tried to get rid of her. Then she would have unsuccessfully tried to get rid of them. It's been a never ending loop, that had lasted them through several countries and several years. There could've been some hateful one night stands involved, wink wink.
CIRCUS / Frequent customers at the Soleil that hate or love her, simply because there's no in between. Co-workers that hate or love their boss because she's always an hour late, and never does anything actually useful.
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aenwoedbeannaa · 2 years ago
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I'm Sorry || The Last of Us One-Shot
Summary: Joel had no idea that Sam had been bitten during the struggle, and he certainly had no idea how much it would hurt to see Ellie’s new friend gone, just like that. 
Warnings: Child death, suicide, guns
Words: 1365
A/N: I saw this post asking for someone to write this, and I am a sucker for brooding surrogate fathers and their feisty surrogate daughters, so I did it. Major spoilers for The Last of Us S1E5 and for the video game.
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“Kids must be sleeping in,” Joel said as he glanced toward the closed door.
“Bet they stayed up all night reading those comics,” Henry responded with a small smile. It had been so long since he had seen Sam so happy. He’d had so little to be happy about in his short life.
“Or that damn book of puns,” Joel chuckled despite himself. 
“Oh, yeah,” Henry laughed. “Diarrhea. Hereditary. It runs in your jeans.”  Henry looked truly happy–the kind of happy that Joel had not seen anyone be in twenty years. Except Ellie. Ellie was so full of brightness and life, despite being an orphan who had likely lost more than just her parents.
“I’m just glad Sam has a friend,” Sam said after a moment. 
Joel tried to suppress a smile, but the corners of his lips tugged up just a little. It was easy to forget, somehow, that Ellie was just a child. A very special child, sure, but still just a child. 
Joel heard Ellie scream and was on his feet in a fraction of a second. They’d searched the building, there were no infected here. 
A moment later, Ellie burst through the door, Sam following behind her. But, it wasn’t Sam anymore. Where a sweet and innocent little boy had once stood, there was an infected child, teeth gnashing as he attempted to rip his friend to shreds. 
“Fuck!” Henry yelled, voice cracking. He looked at Joel, already reaching for the pistol holstered at his waist. “NO!” 
Joel looked at Henry, who now had a pistol of his own pointed at Joel. Joel raised his hands, but still moved towards Ellie. Sure, she couldn’t be infected, but he’d seen what these things could do. Even little children, once infected, could rip apart an adult human with ease. 
He didn’t have much time to think about a plan, because all of a sudden, he heard the crack of a single gunshot and watched as Sam slumped to the ground next to Ellie. Her eyes glistened with tears, face frozen in shock. 
Joel fought the urge to run to her, as Henry still had the gun. That had to be dealt with first. 
“What did I just do?” Henry asked seemingly to no one, “What did I do?” 
Joel had seen situations like this play out before and immediately took a step towards Henry. “Henry, give me the gun.” Ellie sniffled from where she still sat on the floor. 
“Give him the gun, Henry, please,” Ellie pleaded from her place on the floor. Joel had never seen such panic on her face before. She looked almost desperate. 
Henry did not seem to hear them. He just kept repeating himself, “What did I do? What did I do?” 
Instead, he raised the gun to his own head. It happened so fast that Joel had no way to stop it. 
“Henry, n–” Joel’s words were cut off by the crack of another single gunshot and the thud of Henry’s body hitting the floor. 
Joel looked from Henry’s body to the body of the young boy, blood seeping from a single gunshot wound, face horribly disfigured and looking nothing like the face of the innocent little boy he had been only hours before. 
Then he looked at Ellie. She was on the floor, knees pulled to her chest, tears flowing from her eyes. His eyes locked with hers, and he did not even think about what to do next. He rushed to her. 
When he reached her, he lowered himself to the floor, pulling Ellie into a tight hug. He could feel her warm tears soaking into his shirt, and he was filled with anger. Not anger at Ellie, but anger that she lived in a world where her friends could be ripped away in a fraction of a second.
“I tried,” Ellie said through tears, “I tried healing him–my blood, my blood is supposed to be medicine… I thought, I thought–” 
“Shh,” Joel said softly, pulling the girl tighter against his chest, “You did what you could, Ellie. I’m sure it’s… more complicated than that.”
“Joel,” she said his name as if it were some comfort to her. He was glad, at least, for that. But it hurt–it hurt to know that this girl lost yet another friend. 
Joel stroked her hair, wishing he could take her pain away–wishing that she did not have to live in a world that was so cold and cruel. “At least he spent his last hours believing he was going to be ok. He didn’t spend it scared.”
Ellie’s face scrunched in thought, and she sighed, “Yeah… Yeah, I guess you’re right.” But then her face fell, “But I told him I would stay awake with him. I promised.”
Joel shook his head, placing a kiss to the top of her head. “It wouldn’t have changed anything, Ellie.”
“C’mon, baby girl, let’s get out of here,” Joel finally said. They needed to leave, for Ellie’s benefit as well as his own. But he did not let her go. Instead, he gathered her in his arms and stood up. 
“Joel,” Ellie said, still a spark in her voice, “I can still walk, you know.” There was his Ellie, already trying to lighten the mood. 
“I know,” Joel confirmed, eyes sweeping over the room. Sam lay on the floor where he’d fallen after Henry’s single gunshot, and Henry lay only a few feet away, that single deadly gunshot wound in his head. Ellie did not deserve to see things like that. 
Ellie lifted her head from where she had buried it in his chest and opened her mouth to speak, but Joel stopped her, “Don’t look, Ellie,” he pleaded, “Just look at me, baby. Look at me.”
“No, Joel,” Ellie responded. “We should… We should bury them. We can’t just leave them here.” 
Joel’s heart broke. After all she had experienced, all she had seen, she still wanted to bury her friends–still wanted to show them that kindness. Overwhelming guilt washed over him then, too. He’d been so cold to her. Tears welled in his eyes despite himself–he hadn’t bothered with things like crying for what seemed like a lifetime now. 
Ellie must have noticed, because she squeezed him tighter. “I’m sorry, Joel. About Henry… your friend.” 
“It’s not your fault, baby girl, it’s not your fault,” he said as he placed her back on the ground, still with her back facing the carnage. 
Dammit, he was breaking all of his own rules. He knew nothing good could come from this. Caring for people had not exactly worked out well for him in the past. His only option was to do everything in his power to get Ellie to the Fireflies, where she could be truly safe. 
“Ok,” he finally nodded his agreement. “But you wait here while I get them outside.”
“You got it, boss man.”
The corners of his lips tugged up just a little once again. Shit, this girl really had something special about her, beyond her immunity. Face returning to his usual blank slate, he forced himself to look at the bodies of their new, now dead, friends.
“Ellie?” he asked softly, placing his hands on her shoulders and crouching down so his head was even with hers.
“Joel?” she asked, eyebrows raised.
“About Tess…” he began, choking on the words, “You were right. That wasn’t your fault, either.”
Ellie’s face fell, her eyes welling with tears again, “It still feels like my fault.”
Joel’s heart shattered at that. It was his fault she felt like it was her fault. He was the one who treated her as if she caused Tess’s death. He couldn’t let her carry that guilt with her. That guilt that she did not deserve. 
“Oh, baby girl,” he said, pulling her into a hug once more, “It was the world’s fault, not yours. It was never yours.” He breathed, preparing himself to apologize for the first time in what felt like forever, "I'm sorry... for making you feel like it was."
“But what if it's you next?” she asked through tears. 
“Kiddo,” he said, shaking his head, “Lot’s of infected and lots more people have tried and they haven’t had any luck yet.” He needed her not to worry. She was just a child.
His child.
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serpentooth · 3 months ago
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𝐈   𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓   𝐌𝐘   𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓   𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑   𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐆𝐄    [   ...   ] and  now  i  moan,  and  now  i  holler,  she'll  never  know,  just  what  i  found .
                little  fish,  big  fish,  swimming  in  the  water,                  come  back  here,  man,  gimme  my  daughter.
FULL NAME     .   amber ava aster      ALIAS(ES)  /  NICKNAMES     .    abby , darling amber   AGE     .   thirty-eight   GENDER  +  PRONOUNS     .   cis  woman,  she / cunt , i meant  her     SPECIES     .  empty. previously human OCCUPATION . councilwoman DATE OF BIRTH . january 10th RELATIONSHIP STATUS . married CHILDREN . jade ( 8 years old ) FAMILY . two sisters , one older ( 39 ) and one younger ( 35 ) HAIR COLOR . blonde EYE COLOR . blue HEIGHT . 165 cm SCENT . ylang ylang, white musk, sandalwood CHARACTER PARALLELS . amma crellin ( sharp objects ) , goneril ( king lear )
tw  :  general  caution  when  it  comes  to  mentions  of  emotional  abuse  and  strange  little  tidbits. 
ONE  FOR  SORROW,  TWO  FOR  JOY,  three  for  a  girl,  tell  a  secret  that's  never  been  told.  middle  child  and  second  daughter  out  of  three,  amber  was  born  and  raised  in  the  city  of  blackwater.  the  asters  are  rather  well-known  to  those  native  to  the  city  and  have  owned  a  sprawling  estate  in  the  canyon  heights  neighborhood  for  more  than  a  dozen  decades.
one  made  of  kindness,  the  other  of  something  cruel,  the  oldest  to  balance  between  the  two.  three  golden  manes,  three  different  heads,  forever  bound  to  thee.  here's  the  thing  about  asters.  they're  known  for  their  women.  amber  and  her  two  sisters,  close  in  age  and  appearance,  but  not  nature,  spent  most  of  their  childhood  in  an  almost  inseparable  state.  the  oldest  one  took  it  upon  herself  to  watch  over  her  two  sisters,  the  youngest  one  was  always  weak-willed,  bending  like  a  willow  at  everyone's  whim,  and  amber,  darling  amber,  always  projected  an  image  that  was  faux.  of  the  three,  amber  was  the  favored  one,  but  something  always  felt  a  little  off.  was  it  the  way  she  clenched  her  lips  when  she  smiled  or  shook  your  hand  just  a  little  too  hard?  one  could  never  tell.
all  of  this  to  say...  something  was  always  wrong  with  amber,  even  long  before  she  became  an  empty.  a  cluster  of  contradictions,  a  picture-perfect  daughter  at  home  and  before  adults,  but  a  vile  girl  in  the  presence  of  her  peers  and  sisters.  it's  the  latter  of  the  two  that  know  this  better  /  were  even  familiar  with  some  of  amber's  strange  hobbies  and  obsessions,  one  of  which  included  collecting  teeth,  both  of  animals  and  people.  uncaring  but  awfully  ambitious,  she  grew  up  to  be  rather  voracious  and  susceptible  to  the  allure  of  avarice.
near  the  end  of  her  twenties,  she  left  blackwater  in  pursuit  of  something  better,  bigger,  brighter,  settling  in  washington.  there  she  met  and  married  her  current  husband  and  had  a  daughter.  a  daughter  has  a  daughter  who  has  a  daughter.  this  is  why  eve  bit  the  apple.
but  none  of  it  was  enough.  no,  not  quite.  back  home  once  more,  all  alone,  with  her  husband  and  daughter  states  away,  she  did  the  one  thing  most  dare  not  to  speak  of.  then  comes  a  pause.  interlude.  seven  years  of  delight.  the  only  whispers  that  reach  blackwater  are  of  her  success.
several  months  ago,  she  finally  returned,  under  the  guise  and  pretense  of  helping  her  youngest  sister,  but  wink  wonk,  we  all  know  it's  because  the  riverman  beckons  her.  however,  that  isn't  to  say  that  her  youngest  sister  doesn't  need  help.  she  inherited  the  aster  family  house,  but  has  over  the  last  several  years,  faced  quite  a  few  troubles,  given  her  ill-fitted  and  overly  caring  personality.  something,  something,  one  of  us  drinks  the  poison,  but  all  three  must  suffer.
currently,  she  works  as  a  councilwoman,  which  is  a  far  cry  form  her  government  job  back  in  washington,  but  it's  still  better  than  most  others.
things  are  definitely  complicated  because  now  she  wants  her  husband  to  also  make  a  deal  and  make  their  lives  easier  once  more,  so  that  they  can  be  evil  and  irredeemable  together,  but  quite  a  few  things  are  at  stake,  and  despite  having  no  soul,  she  does  want  the  best  for  her  daughter.
i'd  really  love  to  see  her  sisters,  they're  such  an  integral  part  of  amber's  narrative,  especially  since  all  three  of  them  are  just  children  weaned  on  poison  and  emotional  abuse,  so  i'll  definitely  write  up  a  little  wc  for  them,  and  the  same  goes  for  her  husband  (  but  before  that,  if  anyone's  interested,  hmu  ).  that  aside,  since  she  was  born  and  raised  in  blackwater,  she's  probably  well-familiar  with  other  natives  of  the  city,  and  currently,  she's  also  a  councilwoman,  so  you're  bound  to  run  into  her.  some  potential  connections  i  could  also  see  include  people  around  her  age  who  went  to  school  with  her,  maybe  got  a  taste  of  her  wickedness  or  something,  or  perhaps,  people  who  helped  her  sister(s)  after  she  left  town  and  now  she  kind  of  has  to  be  grateful.  ofc,  anything  and  everything  else!
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goldeneyedgirl · 1 year ago
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TwiFicmas23 Day 4: Anathema
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Today has been a bit of a mess, and now we've had a small change of plans because today's intended fic is missing a chunk.
So we have two scenes from Anathema since @sonyawix asked so nicely. These follow on straight from Alice and Jasper's very awkward and public first meeting; Anathema is so fun to write honestly.
I hope everyone has a good day, and I'll be back tomorrow!
anathema
The car ride home from the meeting was silent, with both Freddie and I mulling over what had just transpired with the Cullens, and exactly what it meant for us.
Because there was one thing we didn’t want anyone to figure out, especially the council. 
And it was the fact that I wasn’t entirely human. I wasn’t just gifted. 
My biological father was a vampire. 
It was practically unheard of, according to Jeannie. Nearly impossible for a vampire to father a child, let alone for the mother to carry the pregnancy to term. And Jeannie had never heard, in all her family’s diaries and archives, of any of the mothers surviving the birth. 
My mom had been no exception. Lilian Brandon-Myer had died within moments of my birth, when I had ripped my way out of her body with her sharp little teeth. The human body isn’t designed to survive that kind of trauma. I keep telling myself that - there was no way anyone could have saved her. It was a damn miracle that she had even made it that far, really. 
I really didn’t know that much about her. She’d been twenty-seven years old, worked at an art gallery, and had been married for two years, to Richard. I had one memory of her, wispy and thin since I was only moments old - wide blue eyes in a thin, pale face; dark hair, and a lot of blood. She was probably already dead. 
My mother had been Freddie’s baby sister, and he had doted on her - I’d heard all the stories, how much he’d adored her. He’d been completely and utterly destroyed when my mother had died. Hell, Jeanie had alluded that she and Freddie had cared for her during her pregnancy, trying to keep her alive long enough to give birth. And then I had been born a freak of nature, growing so much faster than a human baby. They couldn’t dump me on social services when, by my first birthday, I was already the same as a human three-year-old. 
And Mom’s husband had been too… normal to take me, and I’m not sure he’d have wanted to; I was what killed her. He never would have been able to cope with the realities of the supernatural, let alone raising a vampire-human hybrid who aged three times faster than an ordinary child. Jeanie, at least, had one foot in the supernatural world, and generations of family lore and history to navigate raising me safely. 
She always said that she and Freddie had never been blessed with children of their own, so I was their special gift. I don’t know if either of us really believed that but it was a nice sentiment. 
Even my ‘sister’ wasn’t really any relation to me. Cynthia was Richard’s daughter with his second wife, and my one link to the real, normal world. I had no idea how Freddie convinced Rich to let us be raised as ‘sisters’, but I was grateful - I adored Cynthia, and I wish we could have spent more time together. Rich was actually a really nice guy; he called me on my birthday, and sent me gifts, and always told me that I was the spitting image of Mom and she would have been so proud of me. Honestly, everything I know about Mom, I got from Rich; Freddie never spoke of her, and Jeanie always promised she’d tell me more when I was older. 
“What are we going to do?” I asked softly, and Freddie sighed and shook his head. “D’you want me to go to the beach house?”
Freddie and Jeanie raised me in an isolated house near Neah Bay for the first couple of years, to keep me out of sight - Freddie commuted to the funeral home as needed. As far as the Forks’ locals knew, I had come into their custody when I was ‘twelve’; in reality, I was fully-grown at seven years old and was just slight enough to pass as a middle-schooler with a few adjustments - it’s amazing what a too-big dress and a pair of pink plastic glasses could do. I really had looked like a child being raised by an older couple; awkward and unfashionable. 
But we’d kept the beach house; Freddie and I drove up a few times a year to make sure it was maintained and secure. Freddie had gone to no small amount of trouble and expense to make sure that no one knew we owned the property, especially anyone in Forks. It had to stay as a safe house in case everything went sour. 
One thing that Jeanie was intensely aware of was the Quileutes’ history with the Cold Ones, and she swore that they could never, ever know about me. That she didn’t know what the Blacks and the Clearwaters would do if they found out about me. They would certainly argue that we couldn’t function as Mediators, because we couldn’t be impartial when my sperm donor was a vampire. There was a very, very good chance they’d banish me from the reservation, and hold me to the treaty - if not try and run Freddie and I out of town entirely. 
Or even try to hurt me. 
I hated that; the idea that Sue Clearwater - who had done so much heavy lifting in our household after Jeanie died - could turn on me. That Leah and I wouldn’t tease each other, or that I’d never be able to go down to La Push with the twins again. Besides, I was functionally human - I ate, I slept, I bled, I used the bathroom, I wasn’t venomous - Jeanie had run dozens of tests over the years. My heart-beat was faster than a humans, and I ran warm on a good day, but now that I was mature, I was just me. Just Alice Brandon, illegal mortician. 
And Jeanie and Freddie had established so many precautions over the years - Jeanie had avoided feeding me blood as a baby or any sort of meat - raising me as a vegetarian human - and to this day I wonder if that’s why I’m so small, that my growth was somewhat stunted. But it was a choice she made for my best interests, so I couldn’t hold any resentment for that. I had been kept away from other children and most other humans until I was fully grown and could understand the severity of the situation and how important the rules were; and even then, I had dozens of rules about things I could and couldn’t do, so not to ever reveal any similarity to vampires. 
But Jeanie was certain that Sue and Billy Black would basically turn me into a pariah if they ever caught wind of the situation, and she hadn’t wanted that for me. So, we had kept that a secret. We never spoke of it. 
But now that the Cullens were here, everything was at risk - would they know? Would they guess? Had they guessed? Vampire senses were so strong, and perhaps Jasper’s reaction to me had been because of my biology - would my reaction to Jasper Cullen clue anyone in, or could it be hand-waved away by my gift?
And if they did figure it out, would they tell the Council - perhaps use it as a bargaining chip to renegotiate the treaty?
I didn’t know. I couldn’t know; no decision had been made. But I didn’t want to discuss it with them, perhaps negotiate for their silence, in case they hadn’t worked it out. 
Ugh, I hated this so much. I was already mentally packing my bags to hide up in the beach house until we could guarantee I was safe. I’d have to stay there alone; Freddie had the funeral home to run. I’d be lonely and bored and worried, stuck in an old house that was full of ghosts. It was Jeanie’s house, and being there without her… I didn’t like it. 
We pulled up in front of the funeral home and Freddie looked at me. “It’s alright Alice,” he said finally, sounding tired. “We’ll go in and talk to the others, and worry about everything else tomorrow. There’s no need to panic, I promise.”
“I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” I said softly, and we both knew I wasn’t talking about my moment with Jasper. 
“I know, pet, I know.”
//
I made coffee faster than any living being in the world before hightailing it downstairs, to the funeral home’s parlour, where the meeting was happening. Or rather, five adults were having a nuclear meltdown.
“He will not be allowed anywhere near her!” Freddie’s face was bright red as he paced the room. “I want it added to the laws! He’s a damn monster, and I will not lose another…”
“We know, Freddie,” Sue sighed, arms crossed over her chest. “And we agree with you that the Cullens should be informed that Alice is off-limits.”
“But can we do that?” Charlie Swan looked exhausted. “Can he do that? Billy - one of the imprints; could one of the wolves physically stay away from their imprint? Does it work the same way for vampires?”
The Clearwaters and Billy Black exchanged looks. 
“I don’t know about vampires, but no, the wolf could not stay away from their imprint. We’ve seen it attempted before,” Billy said finally. “And most attempts do not last long. We don’t know what a long-term attempt would look like for the wolf or the imprint.”
“Sickness?” Charlie asked. “Feral behaviour? Violence? Madness? Death?”
They all exchanged glances and I decided it was time to make my presence known.
“You’re not going to hurt Jasper?” I asked in my most innocent voice, my eyes wide, and my lip trembling. It wouldn’t work on the Clearwaters, or Freddie - he was too upset - but I knew Charlie Swan wouldn’t be able to deal with a crying teenage girl.
Harry took the coffee tray from me as they all exchanged loaded looks. 
“He didn’t do anything wrong,” I said, sniffling. 
“Calm down, Alice,” Billy said in an even voice. “We’re just discussing our options.”
“I don’t like the idea that keeping them separated could result in violence,” Harry said grimly. “We can’t risk it.”
“But you’re willing to risk Alice?” Freddie exploded.
“He’s not ‘risking’ me!” I yelled back. “No one is! Jasper won’t hurt me!” I looked Freddie in the eye. “You know that!”
“None of us know that,” Freddie shot back. “And I refuse to stand by and let history repeat itself with those monsters!”
“Mom was attacked and raped by Red-Eyes!” I shot back. “The treaty said the Cullens can’t drink human blood! All Jasper wants to do is hold my hand and talk to me!”
Billy Black snorted, and I saw Sue and Harry exchange looks. 
“Alice, he was sniffing your hair,” Sue said slowly. “And the look on his face…”
I looked at her bewildered, and quickly ran through the overflow of visions I’d had. There were a couple that got… well. I would have protested doing that with such a large audience, and it was obvious that his brothers and sister wouldn’t have let him get very far. The fact that that was one of his initial reactions to me was… well, I was a little flattered, to be honest.  
“Oh,” I said, shaking my head. “No, he changed his mind, like, 30 times in less than a minute. That’s why my visions went haywire - my brain couldn’t process that much information that quickly. I think he was doing something, like he w-“
“He’s gifted?” Sue interrupted me. 
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I’d have to ask him. In person.”
Freddie was already shaking his head. “Absolutely not.”
“We negotiate. I’m sure the Cullens will be agreeable,” I said soothingly. “Chaperoned meetings, like in the olden days, for my protection. All above board and very G-rated. Hell, we can even sit here in the parlour. Just talking.”
“It would lower the risk of any sort of violence to get to Alice, it’s on neutral territory, and we have no idea what keeping them apart could do to Alice,” Harry sighed. “An imprint can feel the effect of a strained bond, it can take a toll on their long-term health…”
“It’s not happening!” Freddie threw up his hands. 
“Freddie, you need to listen to us,” Sue said, trying to act as peacekeeper. “I don’t know what a mate bond looks like in vampires or how it’s formed, but what we do know that in the wolves, it will actively hurt Alice to be kept away from him - she will get sick.”
“What if it was Leah? Or Jacob and the blonde vampire?” Freddie snapped back. “Or Isabella or Seth? Would you still be standing here, telling me that this is a-a risk I just have to accept? Even without Lilian…” Freddie put his face in his hands and took a shuddering breath. “Would you?” he glared at Sue.
Sue frowned. “That is a totally different situation, Fred,” she said evenly. “I don’t believe our genetics would allow such a bond to form. But if it were Leah, I would do every single thing I could to protect her from harm - the harm of a vampire and the harm of a broken bond. I would not allow my daughter to suffer in such a way.”
Freddie was shaking his head. “No, no, I don’t believe you. And Alice isn’t your daughter. She’s my niece. She’s staying right here. He can stay on the Cullen property! They’re never seeing each other again.”
“No.”
Everyone swung around to look at me, and I caught a look of myself in the mirror over the console table - I didn’t look like myself at all. My expression was hard and mutinous. My voice was stern and flat. 
“I don’t know what’s going on. I can only work through the visions I’ve had. But you cannot stop Jasper Cullen and I from seeing each other,” I said in that same, flat tone. There was a tight feeling in my chest, and all I could think of was that look of naked hope on Jasper Cullen’s face when I protested his brother’s roughness. His voice telling his alpha or father or whatever that I was his. He was also mine. 
Freddie was looking at me in horror, and even Harry was looking a little worried. 
“Alice…” Charlie sounded pained, and Billy had taken to gulping at coffee that he looked like he wanted to throw on me. 
“Better a chaperoned meeting than him climbing in her bedroom window, or running away with her,” Harry muttered and Freddie choked. 
“I promise that I will obey whatever guidelines I am given,” I said carefully. “I won’t hide any relevant information from the Council, or put anyone in unnecessary danger. I don’t know what this is, but I do know that meeting Jasper Cullen was inevitable. I’ve Seen him before.”
I think Sue chose that moment to remember my vision about the gurney, as she turned grey, then red, and then looked like she needed something stronger than coffee. 
“Do you know what happens if you don’t see him again?” Charlie asked.
“No, I don’t. And I don’t want to,” I said frankly. 
Freddie sat on the couch, looking exhausted.
“Someone’s going to need to make decisions for Alice in the Council,” Sue said finally. “Freddie, you’re our Mediator. You can’t be objective if you’ve got Alice to worry about. None of us can do it. And none of the Cullens can do it. We’re all compromised.”
“Ask Dulcie,” I said and everyone looked at me. “She’s been here for years, I think she deserves to be read-in. She can be my guardian ad litem in the Council, and she’d finally understand some of the weirder stuff that goes on around here. Like the limb-bucket.”
Charlie winced at the reminder of that particular incident. 
Freddie sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. “Dulcie’s not a bad choice,” he admitted. 
“Plus, now you’ll have to marry her,” I said cheerfully. “Now, I’m going to bed, so you can finish talking about me without me.” And with that, I headed back upstairs for a hot shower and some sleep. 
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chacswclf · 2 years ago
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I am not a man, I feel more like, emptiness, solitude. I am not a man, I feel more like, chemicals coming through.
STATISTICS
general
name: Lana Harriet Voltraep age: 33 dob: april 5th species: werewolf gender & pronouns: female, she/her faceclaim: Jessica Stroup hometown: nice, france. & new orleans, louisiana. occupation: dancer/server at Midnight Mistress orientation: biromantic & bisexual powers: those attributed to werewolves skills: mixed fighting & basic weapons training, classically trained dancer & gymnast, parkour, getting into places she shouldn't be & finding trouble (this includes stealing shit & minor criminal activities), drawing/sketching, knows how to play the piano.
physical
height: 5'8 weight: 136 lbs physique: slender, toned, athletic eyes & hair: blue & brown Distinguishing Characteristics: there is a scar on her left shoulder where she was bitten & changed, it covers some of her left shoulder & neck. has two other small scars from a particularly bad fight on the right side of her ribs. lana also has the slightest of french accents.
BIOGRAPHY
Rebel. Resist. Rebuild.
The earliest thing Lana remembers from her youth was the smell of gunpowder and blood, she was young but knew what it meant. Death became an acquaintance to a young Lana as her older brothers died either from disease or a violence that took to her country's streets. Her father had been a wealthy man, as much as a military man of prestige could afford, one that had earned his rights fighting wars that were not his own. Her family was strong in their convictions and her parents made sure to raise their daughter just as they had her brothers, she learned the way of the land and how to survive on her own, handle a weapon and kick the ass of any man that told her she wasn't enough. Finding a resistance for the underdogs was something she found easily, taking up arms with her friends and those that had been wronged. It wasn't easy, being a young woman with so much passion and fire it definitely didn't get any easier when she was older and her family made the trip to the states. She was in her early twenties when they made their home in the thick and heavily magical lands of New Orleans.
Lana fell into an easy life, comforted by the secluded area that her new home was built in. She helped, of course, build the house her brother and father worked hard to make sturdy and massive. It took longer than she would have liked, but the family made friends and was popular among the other rich societies of New Orleans. It helped that Lana didn't miss a single party that was ever held, flourishing in the limelight and showered with gifts by all the eligible bachelors. She was sought after and the young woman lived off of it, having come from a tough beginning in life, it was a relief to know that people actually wanted her and Lana found that she enjoyed being desired.
Still young but considered mature in the world of marriage and importance, Lana found her place among those of a similar station in life. Nothing was kept from her, as her father became a primary importer for French goods and not just in the parties that his wife and daughter would hold. Truly, Lana flourished in her first few years in New Orleans, the good years. That was, before she refused one marriage proposal too many, the man, a charming and rich man, was more than just furious that Lana had refused him repeatedly. It was almost animalistic how he stormed off. It wasn’t until later that she even began to understand why, being woken by the man and all but dragged off the spirited woman gave him more than just her mind that night.
A beast attacked her, driving his teeth deep into her flesh, growling low in a possessive and consuming manner before he dragged her back to her family’s home. Despite her struggles and screams of warning, the beast destroyed everyone that had fought against it, killing her mother and father, along with the rest of the people that lived on their land. Leaving a bleeding and sobbing Lana for dead.
She wasn’t sure how many days and nights had passed when she next opened her eyes, her brother Marcus sat slumped against a chair next to her and she was overcome with relief that he had survived. But neither of them had truly survived. It was learned a month later that they both had been brought into a world that Lana had known nothing about prior, sorrow mixed with her new found glory and power. Lana changed more than just her physical body, her human life was over and this was a new beginning, one not trapped or tainted by her parents’ influence and although she had loved them greatly, their death had brought a solace. Marcus took over the family business, as he had been destined to regardless of their parent’s brutal murder, to which some found suspicious, but since Lana and Marcus had also been attacked, there were only a few and in between who believed the siblings had killed everyone. A decade passed and the Voltraep siblings fell into a comfortable life, traveling from their home in New Orleans to search for others of similar kind; it didn’t take a long search to find anyone in the supernatural world. Something they had no idea had existed, it was kept from the humans, something they understood and fell into with ease. Some time into their extended lives, Marcus and Lana fell apart; Marcus taking the family business further than his father could ever dreamed to have achieved and in a way it had become his personal and only goal to drive the business he had taken over for his father past anything that his father had imagined. It was something that Lana always admired, although sometimes she found it difficult to talk to her brother, he had always been the more serious of the two and more brooding, speaking only when it truly benefited everyone in the room. He was studious and although Lana was just as intelligent (if asked, she would say she was more intelligent than her brother), she lacked the focus and drive to pursue a business and life the way her brother had. Lana fell into a different life, one of wealth, booze, sex, and drugs. It had always thrilled the woman in accomplishing terribly difficult things that others would not expect her to be able to do, like become a reigning champ in the bloodiest and most brutal of underground fighting rings. She was the wild child and always with a cause, for a while it was fighting in underground fights between supernaturals, learning her way through the underground with her latest love interest. Those never lasted very long, a fling and for the most part, Lana was done, a serial lover, she took the pain and the passion, something she never quite stopped. Even as her interests turned to the injustices she saw in the world of supernaturals and human kind, taking up arms like the rebel she was, Lana found a cause and fought for it. Bringing down men and women alike that were set in seats of power.Settling down was never something Lana expected herself to do, in any lifetime, but from the avid prompting of her business partner and fellow agent of rebellious justice, the woman set out to find a place of comfort to lay low. As if the sentiment was something she could do willingly and without constant supervision. Holloway, a place she had heard of only in passing but found herself seeking the place out as a reprieve from the chaos the wolf caused elsewhere. Running wasn’t Lana’s style but for now it would have to be if only for her own safety. Besides, tormenting a new town had always been her favorite fashion of vacation.
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unclewaynemunson · 2 years ago
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Pt3 to this au that’s getting waaay longer than i planned it to be | full version AO3 link
Eddie had a problem. A big problem. A problem named Steve Harrington, a problem who had signed up for weekly guitar lessons with him – a problem who furrowed his brows and slightly opened his mouth when he was concentrating, who had perfectly manicured fingers stroking his guitar, who ran a hand through his gravity-defying hair when he got nervous or frustrated, who blushed every time without exception when Eddie complimented him on his progress.
'He has a child, Nance!'
'So? He's single, isn't he?'
'I don't know that, he might be lying about that, too! He never mentioned his fucking daughter either!'
'Maybe it wasn't his daughter, maybe it was just some neighborhood kid or his niece or something.'
'She looked exactly like him!'
'Okay, but not mentioning something is not the same as lying. He literally said he was single, didn't he?'
Eddie sighed and nodded.
'I haven't seen you fall this hard ever before,' Nancy remarked. 'And he's clearly into you, too. I mean, he started taking guitar lessons because he wanted to see you again – that's really romantic, Eddie! Is it really a total dealbreaker if he has a kid?'
'Yes,' Eddie answered through gritted teeth.
'But you love your kids!'
'That's way different! I see them an hour a week for music lessons, that's not comparable to having a tiny human around all the time, and raising them and shaping their little mind and shit! That's fucking terrifying, Nance, I'm not even a proper human myself! I ate coffee powder for breakfast this morning because the tap wasn't working again, and I forgot to do my laundry so I'm wearing Wayne's old-man tent boxers!'
Nancy choked on her beer. 'I did not need to know that, thanks,' she spluttered.
'Point is, I'm hopelessly in love with a father, and I can never date him, because I can't possibly be a stepfather for the next, like, ten years. And he keeps flirting with me and I can't avoid any of it because I'm locked in a room with him weekly! And he's only twenty and that little girl was, I dunno, I guess three years old, which is concerning, to say the least, so –'
'You don't actually mean that.' Nancy's voice sounded sharp when she interrupted him.
'What?' Eddie shot her a confused look.
'You're not gonna shame him for being a teen dad, that's low.' She shot him one of her mildly terrifying stern glares. 'He probably had an immensely difficult decision to make, and he chose to commit, at a very young age, when it would've been easy for him to walk away and not take any responsibility. That's really brave of him, and you shouldn't judge him for that only because you can't get over it.'
Eddie huffed and took a big sip of his beer. He hated it when Nancy was honest and right.
🎵
He saw Steve again, earlier than expected, on Monday afternoon. It was in between lessons, in the fifteen minutes he had after Will left and before Max would arrive. He put on his leather jacket and headed downstairs for a smoke, and saw Steve and his daughter come out of the daycare center at the moment he reached the last step of the stairs.
Steve froze when he saw Eddie and stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights.
'Hey,' said Eddie. 'Look at that, you got a lovely little family.' It sounded fake to his own ears; he desperately hoped that Steve wouldn't pick up on that.
‘Thanks,' Steve mumbled, not exactly looking too happy to be seeing Eddie. 'This is – this is Rose.' He took a few steps towards Eddie. The girl on his arm had the same soft brown-eyed gaze as her father, and her brown hair was braided neatly, with two brightly colored bows in its ends. Eddie found it hard to believe that Steve would be able to braid like that; there was a woman, of course there was a woman, there had to be a woman.
'Rose, can you say hi to Eddie?' Steve asked the little girl.
'Eddie!' she repeated with a wide smile on her face.
No matter how much Eddie hated to admit it, the girl was really fucking cute. How could he not smile back at her and give her a tiny wave, to which she responded by happily waving back at him?
'She's your spitting image,' Eddie remarked at Steve.
Weirdly enough, Steve grimaced at that.
'I know,' he said. 'Same father, so...'
'Huh, what?'
'She's my half sister.'
His half sister.
Eddie's eyes widened. 'Oh,' he responded, stupidly.
'Yeah, it's um... It's kind of a messy story, to be honest. That's why I never mentioned her, actually. She hasn't been in my life for that long yet. I didn't even know she existed until - ‘ he suddenly shut his mouth, brusquely cutting himself off. ‘Never mind, doesn’t matter.’ He looked as if he felt embarrassed for saying too much. ‘I guess I liked to pretend like everything was normal. With the music lessons, I mean. That it was just us and the music, and nothing else.' He sighed and combed his free hand through his hair, prompting Rose to stretch out her hand and lightly pull at a lock of his hair, too.
He didn't reprimand her, but merely shot her a fond look before he switched his attention back to Eddie.
'Sorry, that kinda made it sound like – like I'm not happy with her or something. But she's actually the best thing that's happened to me in a long time. It's just – it's a lot, you know? I guess I liked having this one place where I could pretend like my family wasn't falling apart.'
Eddie nodded. 'Yeah, I get that,’ he said. ‘I mean, that's what music is for, right? Escapism.'
'Yeah, exactly.'
Eddie got a sense of deja vu from the way Steve kept hovering around, seemingly not knowing what to say but also not wanting to leave, just like that first time they met. Only this time, Eddie felt lost for words, too. It was too much, to see Steve be so gentle and sweet with that girl that he'd assumed was his daughter but was actually his little sister. To see him so full of love and so distressed at the same time, one body full of contradictions. He didn't even know what to think – let alone say – right now.
He turned his gaze to Rose, because somehow, that was easier than addressing Steve directly.
'It was really nice meeting you, Rose,' he said to her. 'You have an amazing big brother. Be good to him, alright?'
She nodded, her eyes wide open and that sweet grin on her face again.
When he looked up at Steve, he saw that the guy was blushing heavily – but the anxious look had disappeared from his eyes, so Eddie supposed that he could count that as a win.
'Hey, um, I really have to go, my arm is kinda falling asleep – which is your fault, Rose, there's nothing wrong with your legs and yet I'm carrying you around like you're still a baby.' The girl stuck her tongue out and Steve gasped dramatically. 'Don't do that! I'll stop carrying you if you do that again. For real, this time.'
She giggled and Steve shifted her onto his other arm, then brushed a hand over her hair.
'Alright, I'll see you on Wednesday,' he said to Eddie, before he turned towards the exit, leaving Eddie still stunned in the hall.
Just us and the music, was the part of the conversation that kept repeating itself in Eddie's brain, like a broken record, again and again and again. Just us and the music. Just us. Us. Us.
Pt4
Tag list: @kardinalkalamity @imzadidragonfly @simpforsauron @undreamingscatworld @nailbatbabygirl @solosnail @theysherobinbuckley  @sharpbutsoft @manda-panda-monium @piningapple @whimsicalwitchm
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bratdesire · 4 years ago
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Your Dad, My Daddy
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Pairing: Ukai Keishin x Fem!Reader
Warnings: 18+ smut, age gap, older man/younger woman, barely legal, squirting, rough sex, daddy kink, alcohol mention, questionable ethics, d/s dynamics, overstimulation, degrading language, touch of subspace, unprotected sex, breeding kink, slight dubcon if you squint but it’s all consensual, Ukai’s dick is pierced, exhibitionism(?)
Genre: Smut, just so much smut
Word count: 9.4k
Author’s note: Here is my contribution to the new HQHQ collab!! You can find the masterlist right here! Big big thank you to @sempiternal-amour and @inaflashimagine​ for beta-ing this monster fic, ilysm <3 This is so incredibly self-indulgent, I even inserted my nickname ~for spice~. Anyways, enjoy my incoherent screaming uwu
Summary: When you go over to your friend’s house for a study session you don’t anticipate meeting her very attractive father, and you surely don’t anticipate the very same man fucking you over their couch.
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“Hey, I apologize in advance for anything weird my dad says or does. You know how dads are,” Hitomi explains as she pulls into the driveway of her house. 
It’s small but nice and well-manicured, situated in the cul de sac of a middle-class suburb.
“Dad, we’re here,” she shouts up the stairs, setting her keys on the small table next to the front door. Hitomi’s gaze drifts to the tall, dark haired man sitting at the kitchen table and your own gaze soon follows. “Oh, there you are.”
She quickly pecks the man on his cheek before walking over to the shiny silver fridge, pulling out a couple bottles of water. “Dad, this is Bunny, Bunny this is Dad,” she gestures between the two of you. 
When her father glances up from his phone to give you a nod of acknowledgement, you’re taken aback by how handsome he is. 
You can tell from the slight wrinkles around his lips and the crinkles by his eyes that he’s definitely a much older man, but other than that he’s flawless. The angle of his jaw is sharp but soft, lower face darkened by his five o’clock shadow. His chocolate brown eyes are complemented by plump, pink lips that would look even better swollen and shiny with saliva. Dark, shiny locks are gathered into a low ponytail and you wonder how they would feel fisted in your fingers. He’s gorgeous in a rugged, mature way that boys your age aren’t and could never hope to be. 
Hitomi never told you her dad was hot but then again, why would she? 
“Mr. Ukai, it’s nice to meet you,” you greet him.
He waves his hand in the air dismissively, “Ah, you can just call me Keishin. No need to be so formal.”
Hitomi mutters a frustrated “shit” under her breath and it takes you a few moments to tear your eyes away from the man in front of you. 
“I left my textbook in the car, I have to go grab it,” she sighs then turns to her dad. “You, don’t scare off my friend, please.” 
Keishin puts a hand on his heart, a falsely serious expression on his face. “I won’t, scout’s honor.”
She just rolls her eyes, exiting the kitchen the same way you entered. The front door slams shut, leaving you alone with your friend’s very hot dad.
Keishin looks up at you then quickly looks away, unsure how to interact with his daughter’s friends. “So is, uh, Bunny your real name?” he asks, nervously rubbing the back of his head.
Leaning against the table he’s seated at, you fold your arms across your chest, fully aware of how low cut your top is. You don’t miss the way his eyes briefly flicker down to your cleavage then back up to your face. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow at him.
“I… I’m just trying to make conversation,” he laughs nervously.
“Hm, well, the short answer is no. You’ll have to get to know me a bit better before I give you the long answer.” 
He snorts, pushing his chair back and rising to his full height. “What gave you the confidence to speak like this to your elders?”
Taking a step towards him, you twirl a piece of hair around your finger and shyly peer up at him through your lashes. “I don’t know, but maybe you can teach me how to behave.”
A light blush colors his cheeks and his eyes widen with surprise. “I-I don’t know what you’re implying, but it’s not... appropriate,” he stutters, taking a step backwards to try to put some distance between you.
You sidle up to him, reaching out a hand to caress his well-muscled arm. When he makes no move to stop your petting, you bite your lip and get on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Who said we had to be appropriate?” 
His mouth is slightly agape, lips moving every so often, as if he wants to say something but doesn’t. “I—” he starts.
The sound of the front door slamming open makes you both jump apart, trying to appear as casual as possible. 
“I got it! We can go study now,” Hitomi proclaims, waving the book around in her hands. She glances at you, then at her father and notices the way you’re completely turned away from each other. “Oh my God, Dad, what did you do?” she groans.
He holds up both hands in surrender, shaking his head emphatically. “I didn’t do anything! Why do you always think I did something?”
Your friend strides over to lightly punch his shoulder, a disapproving but loving expression on her face. “Because you’re weird and lame. Besides, between you and Bunny, I’m always going to assume that you’re the guilty party.”
You find yourself chuckling at their banter, touched by how close they are. It’s evident that Hitomi and Keishin care a lot about each other, regardless of how much they tease each other and guilt twists in your gut when you remind yourself that you were flirting with him. She likely wouldn’t forgive you for trying to sleep with her dad and it would cause a great deal of damage to their relationship, possibly beyond repair if she knew he was into girls her age. To make matters worse, you’re two years her junior. What man would sleep with a girl younger than his daughter?
But your morals are tossed right out the window when you take in the sight of Keishin’s radiant smile—all straight, white teeth and eyes that shine like pools of dark honey. It’s in that moment that you decide you’re going to seduce that man if it’s the last thing you do.
Sorry, Hitomi. Kind of.
---
“Okay, so L-Tyrosine is one of the twenty amino acids used by the body to synthesize proteins. It is also an aromatic amino acid derived from phenylalanine by hydroxylation in the para position—oof!” Hitomi’s droning is cut off by the pillow you send hurtling towards her head.
You sit up on her bed, squealing obnoxiously as you stretch. “Hitomi, I love you, but please shut up. My brain is melting. We’ve been at this for three hours now, can we take a break?”
She closes the textbook in her lap and pushes it to the edge of her desk. “Fine, fine. We can take a twenty minute break, but we have to go right back to studying because finals are this week and I cannot afford to fail,” your friend warns, despite how she whips out her phone at lightning speed.
Picking at a stray thread on the comforter, you gently try to get her attention, “Hey, Tomi?”
“Hm?” she responds, barely glancing up from the video she’s watching.
You’re not sure how to broach the subject, but you’ve never been one to beat around the bush so you just come right out and say it. “Has anyone told you your dad’s kinda hot?”
That makes her stop, her head jerking up from her phone at lightning speed. “What!? That old geezer?” She sounds dumbfounded, incredulous at the prospect that someone would be interested in her father.
“Yeah girl, he’s a total DILF,” you confess, making a little fanning motion with your hand like you’re burning up inside just thinking about him, and it’s not that far from the truth.
Hitomi makes no effort to hide her feelings, disgust clearly evident in her delicate features. “Ew! You have to be joking. Please tell me you’re joking.”
“I’m not joking! He’s really sexy,” you muse dreamily.
She claps both hands over her ears, yelling at the top of her lungs to drown you out. “I never want to hear you say that my old man is ‘sexy’ ever again!”
You childishly stick your tongue out at her. “Hey! I’m just speaking the truth. You have to have had friends say the same thing.”
Removing her hands from her ears, she brings one up to stroke her chin, seemingly deep in thought. “Now that I think about it, back in high school my friends were a lot more enthusiastic about coming over once they met my father.”
You feel vindicated by her personal testimony, even if she thinks you’re gross. “See? I’m not the only one who finds your dad ridiculously attractive.”
Hitomi gags dramatically as if she’s going to puke and judging by the look on her face, she just might. “Please, no more, I’m begging you.” 
“Fine, fine I’ll stop, but don’t act surprised when I become your new stepmom,” you tease, wiggling your eyebrows at her.
“You’re younger than me, don’t even joke about that,” she shudders in horror. “Okay, with that we need to get back to studying amino acids and proteins.”
“Whatever you say, future stepdaughter.” You muster your best motherly voice, sickeningly sweet and a touch passive aggressive.
This time, it’s Hitomi’s turn to throw a pillow at you.
---
Since the day you met Keishin, you haven’t been able to get him off your mind. Even when you’re in class trying to learn about the sodium-potassium pump, you find your thoughts drifting to his hands, his lips, him. He’s simply become too distracting to ignore.
More times than you care to admit, you’ve fucked yourself with your fingers to thoughts of how his fingers would feel pumping inside you. You fantasize about how his hand would feel around your neck, squeezing with just enough pressure to make your vision hazy. His name is always on the tip of your tongue when you orgasm and when you finally let yourself moan out ‘Keishin,’ you know enough is enough. A man his age has to know exactly how to make a woman scream and writhe in pleasure, but you need to experience it for yourself or you’ll die trying.
You’re not oblivious to the way he looks at you with hunger and longing in his eyes, you know he wants you too and you’re not above using dirty tricks to show him just how much you want him. 
If he’s too proud, too noble to give in to his urges, you’ll just have to break him. His resolve may be strong, but yours is stronger.
Your efforts begin innocently enough, gently probing him for more information about himself so you can get to know him better.
“I’ve noticed you don’t wear a ring. Is there a Mrs. Ukai in the picture?” you ask innocently.
Keishin clears his throat a bit too loudly, refusing to meet your questioning gaze. “Nah. It’s just me and Tomi, always has been.”
“Any… future Mrs. Ukai in the picture?”
The corners of his lips twitch slightly, the barest of smiles tugging at his handsome features. “Can’t say there is. Between the store and coaching volleyball, I don’t really have the time to date.”
You nod and make a noise of acknowledgement, relieved by the confirmation that he is in fact very, very single. You’re a lot of things, but you’re not a homewrecker.
On another occasion, you’re seated on their plush leather couch and Keishin’s in the well-worn La-Z-Boy recliner to your left. You’re watching some Adam Sandler movie on Netflix, but it’s paused while Hitomi is in the bathroom.
You take your alone time together as an opportunity to question him more, toeing the line of what would be considered proper. “So, Keishin, how old are you? I know Tomi’s twenty-one so you must be…” you trail off, hoping he’ll humor you.
He takes a swig of the beer in his hand and your eyes instinctively flicker down to watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Old.”
You roll your eyes and prop your chin up on your hand, readjusting your position on the couch so you’re leaning closer to him. “Obviously, but just how old?”
“Why do you want to know so badly?” he asks, head tilted and a well-groomed eyebrow lifted questioningly.
“I was just wondering if you’re older than my dad,” you tease. 
His shoulders shake slightly as he chuckles, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I’m forty-four. Do I have him beat?”
“He’s forty-two, so just barely.” Your steady, unwavering eyes lock onto his own, which are glassy and unfocused from the alcohol. When he brings the bottle to his lips once more, you nonchalantly add, “Maybe I should call you Daddy instead.”
Keishin coughs and sputters in surprise, causing him to choke on his beverage and a spray of sticky beer splatters across your face. 
Apologies tumble out of his mouth as soon as he realizes that your cheeks and hair are dripping with the craft IPA he was drinking. “I-I’m so sorry! I’ll get you a towel,” he blurts, shooting up from his chair. 
In his panic and embarrassment, he rushes toward the linen closet and you can’t help the giggles that escape your mouth at how uncoordinated he is, now several drinks in. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s not that big of a deal,” you reassure him, wiping your face with the back of your hand for emphasis.
He returns from the rummaging around the hall closet, a dark blue towel in his hand, which he offers to you with a nod of his head.
No matter your protests and assurances that you’re fine, Keishin is even more insistent in offering you the towel to clean yourself up. When you refuse to take the towel from him, he kneels down next to you and leans in to dab at the foamy liquid that has soaked into your hair. 
Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his fingers on your jaw and you almost squeak at his close proximity. He hasn’t let you near him since your first encounter and now he’s right in front of you, so close that his breath curls around your cheeks, smelling of malted hops and the slightest hint of peppermint. You can map out the slight freckles on the bridge of his nose and each long, curled eyelash that brushes his cheeks each time he blinks.
He’s truly a beautiful man, all sharp angles and rough stubble and you can feel your cheeks warm when you realize that he’s right there. If you leaned forward just a little bit more, your noses would brush against each other. 
A deep, rumbling voice interrupts your daydreaming. “Kid, are you even listening to me?”
You blink a couple times, coming to the realization that he’s been trying to talk to you for the last few minutes, but you were too busy admiring his beauty.
Keishin shakes his head as he leans back on his heels, using one hand to rub his face wearily. “As I was saying, you can’t just… say things like that. I know young girls sometimes have fantasies about older men like me, but I’m telling you now that it’ll only end badly,” he sighs. “I’m not a righteous man, I have my vices. God, do I have lots of them, and I don’t need another one.”
He mumbles the last sentence, barely loud enough for you to hear, despite how close you are.
Another one? Is he admitting that the attraction is mutual? You have to know, you just have to. Your body practically aches from how badly you want him.
“Keishin, I—” you start, reaching out to touch his arm, but he stands abruptly and quickly turns to shuffle away from the couch.
“This just isn’t a good idea, kid. Just forget about me, alright?” he says, his back to you. A tinge of regret and hesitation seeps into his words, as if he wants to take back everything he’s said.
After the beer incident, the man is even less receptive than he was before, making every effort to avoid being alone with you.
Even still, you’re not discouraged because he never outright rejected you. If he had, you would’ve stopped your pursuit weeks ago, but he only seems to be trying to maintain his composure as a righteous man.
Righteous men are wolves in sheep’s clothing, always putting on a facade so they can claim plausible deniability when they’re caught with their pants around their ankles. But no matter how honorable or virtuous a man tries to be, none of them can resist a wet, willing pussy laid out in front of them and Keishin is no exception.
That’s why you’ve shown up to their house the last few weeks in skirts far too short to be considered decent, flashing little peeks of your underwear each time you move too much or bend over too far. Each time you bend over to grab a pencil or a piece of paper off the floor, Keishin is always conveniently positioned behind you so he gets an eyeful of your pretty lace panties and the little dark spot where your wetness has soaked through the fabric. 
After you retrieve your item from the ground, you look over your shoulder to make direct eye contact with him and say ‘oops,’ without a hint of regret in your voice. You revel in the clenching of his jaw and the way he exhales loud and heavy through his nose, frustration mounting each time you try to provoke him.
When your ass and clothed pussy are on display for him, you make sure to wiggle your hips a bit, an open invitation to fuck you the way you both want to. It never fails to elicit some sort of reaction from the older man, ranging from a few groans and a choked cough, to making a very hasty exit, a book or some other object held over the front of his jeans. 
Without fail, Hitomi expresses her concern each time her father storms out of the room, red-faced and breathing heavily. He just waves her off, telling her he’s not feeling well, but you know the truth. He’s painfully hard, painfully hard from you, even if he doesn’t admit it.
Truthfully, if you weren’t trying to get him to fuck you so hard you can’t walk you would applaud his self-control and restraint. Even after weeks of teasing and provocation, the man refuses to give in to his desires.
That’s okay. If he’s not going to come to you, you’ll just have to take matters into your own hands.
----
It all reaches a tipping point when you’re unable to go home for winter break and Hitomi offers you their guest room to stay in for a few weeks. 
Apparently she never asked her father for permission, if Keishin’s shocked, slightly panicked face when you walked through the door with your suitcase was any indication. When he tried to question Hitomi about whether or not it’s such a good idea for you to stay, she wasn’t having any of it and told him that you’re a friend in need. 
Hitomi’s so sweet and caring that you feel a twinge of guilt for plotting to seduce her father in her house when she’s none the wiser. She just wanted to lend a helping hand by letting you stay with them, oblivious to your true plans, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.
Now that you’re under the same roof, all you really want to do is ambush Keishin as soon as possible, but you have to plan around Hitomi’s schedule so you have bide your time. What’s the saying? Good things come to those who wait?
And wait you do. You wait for two whole weeks, in fact. But then the stars align so perfectly that some otherworldly force must be looking out for you.
Hitomi is gone to work and won’t be back until the middle of the night when her shift is over, while Keishin is home reviewing footage from his team’s latest game. 
He told you he does this right before a big game so he can tell his players what they need to improve on and get in that last bit of refinement before the day of. When he clued you in on his strategy you just nodded and hummed, not really listening, mostly focused on ogling his muscles through his thin t-shirt.
Your nerves have been buzzing since you woke up this morning, sensing the heaviness in the air. You’re wearing your prettiest lace panties and its matching bra and frankly, you’re feeling pretty damn confident. You look good and you know you look good. If you were trying to seduce any guy your age, they’d drop their pants as soon as they got a little glimpse of your underwear, but Keishin’s not any guy your age. He needs a little convincing, a little push in the right direction, and you’ll be the one to help him.
You’ve flitted around the house all day, just trying to find the right moment to pounce. 
Currently, Keishin is sitting in the living room watching the recording on the big flat screen in the living room. He looks preoccupied with taking notes on the notepad in his lap, but it’s now or never, you suppose.
Before you try to talk yourself out of it, you stride over to where he’s sitting and put your hand on his shoulder to get his attention.
“Hey. Did you need something? I’m kind of busy analyzing my team’s last game.”
Not wanting to lose your nerve, you wordlessly swing one leg over his, then the other, planting yourself firmly in his lap. His entire body goes ramrod stiff, hands jerking away from your body as if you’ve burned him.
“W-what do you think you’re doing?” he stutters, alarm evident in his voice.
When he makes no move to throw you off his lap, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean into him, pressing your chest to his. 
“What we both have been wanting to do since the day I met you,” you purr, lips barely brushing against the shell of his ear. He shivers when you gently nibble on his earlobe and your confidence only grows as you discover that he wants this just as much as you do.
“I d-don’t know what you’re talking about. This isn't right. I’m your friend’s father and I’m... old enough to be y-yours,” he mutters, running a hand through his already messy hair, conflicted with how to proceed.
You can’t tell whether he’s trying to convince you or himself, so you decide to give him a little encouragement.
Leaning back slightly, you run your hands down his chest and bite your lip. “Are we going to keep playing games or are you gonna fuck me? Because if not, I’ve got several guys back at college who—”
You’re cut off when Keishin’s hand wraps around your throat, the other braced against your back to pull you flush against him. 
“You think your little stunts are cute, don’t you?” he growls, his minty breath washing over your face.
“What, you don’t think so, Daddy?” you pout, batting your eyelashes at him innocently.
His eyes flash with something hot and primal and you can feel the gush of wetness between your thighs. “I’m getting a little tired of them,” he growls.
“This,” you palm at the bulge straining against his pants, “Tells me otherwise, you know.”
The hand around your throat tightens, cutting off whatever bratty remark you were about to make. “I’ve had enough of you prancing around my home in tiny skirts and flashing me your panties when my daughter is around. It’s unbecoming.”
“Then t-teach me a lesson,” you gasp, struggling to speak with Keishin’s fingers so firmly wrapped around your throat.
The way he grins is downright sinful and it stokes the fire already raging inside you. “Careful what you wish for, little girl.”
With some manhandling on Keishin’s part, you’re shoved toward the couch then pulled back onto his lap, but this time you’re on your stomach and both your wrists are pinned behind your back.
“Before we go any further,” he starts, trailing his fingers down your spine and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “I have to ask… How old are you?”
You twist around to look him in the eyes, a defiant smirk on your face. “Old enough.” Your mischievous giggle is cut off by a swift, firm slap to your ass.
“Watch the lip, brat. I need a little more reassurance than that.”
“Since you’re just so concerned, I’m nineteen. Perfectly legal and more importantly, legally fuckable,” you say, punctuated by an enticing wiggle of your hips.
“Jesus, you’re two years younger than Tomi. What am I doing?” He seems lost in thought as the honorable side of him fights a losing battle against his baser, carnal instincts. Whatever reservations he has are thrown aside when you start to wiggle in his grasp, maneuvering yourself over his crotch to grind yourself against his hardness.
Keishin gathers your hair around his fist, harshly jerking your head so far backwards that your spine aches from the unnatural angle.
“Stop fucking squirming. You just don’t know how to behave, do you?” It’s phrased like a question, but he shoves two of his fingers in your mouth so you can’t respond. 
You knew Keishin would be the perfect dom, but the ease with which he settles into the role makes your head spin and your insides throb. Latching onto his digits, you lick and suck like the good girl you are, coating them in saliva as he hums in appreciation.
“Foo wans tuh behav wen thith is wutt I ge fo bein ba?” you ask, garbled and muffled by the fingers massaging the back of your tongue. 
A series of harder, heavier spanks make you squeal and squirm even more in his lap. He gently rubs his hand over your warm, stinging flesh as he speaks. “Such a troublemaker. Just what am I going to do with you, hm?” He tries to sound admonishing, but you can tell he’s smiling behind his words.
His hand leaves your ass, no doubt raised to spank you again, but before he can, you bite down on his fingers. Not too hard, just enough for him to jerk them out of your mouth. “You can do whatever you want to me, Daddy.” 
You jolt when his thumb rubs against your pussy through your panties. They’re soaked with your slick, the material clinging to your skin uncomfortably. The barest touch has you gasping and pushing your hips back for more. You’re so sensitive from the teasing and you’re so turned on you just might pass out if you’re not filled up soon.
Keishin just laughs darkly at the pathetic humping of your hips and you can feel the rumbling in his chest. “This is what I love about girls your age. So sensitive…” He pulls your panties aside and gently eases a finger inside you, then another as you moan and shake in his lap. “And so reactive. I bet you’d cum just from me putting my cock inside this tight, wet cunt, wouldn’t you?”
He speaks with a hint of condescension that has you clenching around his digits, coating them in sticky, syrupy strands of your arousal as they pump in and out of you. You’d almost be embarrassed at how worked up you are if you had more self respect, but you don’t. All you can focus on is the way his fingertips curl into the little spongy spot inside you that makes you whine.
“Why don’t you try it and find out?” The challenge in your voice is severely dampened by how breathless and wrecked you are even though you haven’t really even done anything.
His fingers pull out of you with a lewd squelching sound and you can hear him suck them into his mouth. “You taste even better than I imagined, but I want to taste that sweet pussy of yours. Up, little girl.” He coaxes you from his lap and onto the couch so your back is nestled into the cushions.
Sweat is making hair stick to your forehead and you’re breathing so heavily you’d think you just ran a marathon, but Keishin is looking down at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world and it nearly steals what little breath you have left in your lungs.
Oxygen is the last thing on your mind when his lips slot themselves between yours, soft yet demanding as they suck and lick. The movement of his lips doesn’t falter when he pulls your shirt over your head to reveal your light pink bra. Keishin pulls back to kiss along your collarbones, neck, and chest, his teeth occasionally nipping your sensitive flesh and leaving goosebumps in their wake. He expertly removes your panties with one hand so you’re left in just your plaid skirt, exposing your heated flesh to the coolness of the living room. 
You’re nearly naked but he’s wearing far too many clothes for your liking, so you blindly grab at his shirt, but your fingers are shaking too much for you to get a good grip. Once he realizes what you’re trying to do, he puts his hands over yours and helps you take off his shirt. You nearly start drooling when all of his hard, rippling muscles and smooth, tan skin are finally revealed to your greedy eyes that can’t seem to settle one thing. You don’t know if you’ll get this opportunity again and you want to remember everything in painstaking detail, especially Keishin’s gorgeous body.
He momentarily disentangles himself from you to remove his jeans, leaving him in just his Calvin Klein boxer briefs. The outline of his cock is evident as it strains against the blue material and you reach out to stroke it, but he just takes your hand in his.
He brings it to his lips, then kisses up your arm until he reaches your lips. “All in due time, sweet girl. I want to taste you first.” Your mouth is claimed in another hungry, bruising kiss and you squeal when Keishin takes your lip between his teeth and bites, blood rushing to the surface of your skin. 
His head dips down to leave featherlight kisses and teasing licks down your chest and stomach before he’s resting between your thighs. You whimper pitifully as he spreads your legs, awaiting the feeling of a wet tongue or his fingers against your folds. When he doesn’t move for several beats, you come to the realization that he’s just watching the way your cunt twitches and clenches around nothing and the wetness that drips onto the couch each time your muscles contract. You quickly bring your legs together to hide yourself from his scrutinizing gaze, but he simply pries them open with little effort.
Keishin grabs your chin so you’ll look right at him, squirming from the intensity of his gaze. “Don’t you dare hide this pretty pussy from me, do you understand? I am going to devour you until I’ve had my fill and you’re going to just lie back and take it.”
You nod obediently, your impudence quickly dying, giving way to the burning ache between your legs that can only be sated by a long, hard fuck.
With a satisfied hum, he settles at the apex of your thighs and licks a long stripe from your quivering pussy to your swollen clit and your hips jerk from the contact. Strong hands pin your hips to the couch as you writhe in his firm grip. He gives your clit a soft, quick kiss before he takes it into his mouth and sucks. You grab fitfully at his hair, back arching and hips pressing into his mouth as you gasp and groan from the incredible feeling of his tongue on your sensitive flesh.
His tongue teases your entrance and your cunt twitches, anticipating the first thrust of his warm, wet muscle inside you. He occasionally dips into your hole, but never breaches your entrance and you think you might go mad if he doesn’t give you more.
“I-I need more, give me more,” you manage to gasp, grabbing a fistful of the pillow underneath you as the tightening in your belly gets stronger.
Keishin removes his mouth from your cunt just long enough to admonish you for your lack of respect. “You need to have more manners if you’re going to demand things of me,” he says, before latching back onto your swollen, twitching clit.
“Daddy, pleeease I need more. Ah! I want to cum!” Your voice is so high-pitched and whiny you almost don’t recognize yourself, but you’re nearly delirious from pleasure and your impending climax that’s been dangled over your head for what feels like hours.
“Now who am I to deny you when you ask so sweetly?”
He thrusts two of his digits inside you, reaching deep inside you and rubbing against your g-spot as he sucks your clit back into his mouth. You’re almost screaming at this point, clawing at his hair and humping your cunt against his face. The familiar tightening in your belly signals that you’re about to cum and your moans and cries get faster, louder as the promise of white hot pleasure is just within reach—
It’s almost embarrassing how fast you’re teetering on the edge of climax, as if you’re a virgin school girl that’s never touched herself before. But maybe that’s the difference that years of experience can make. 
Not that you care. You just want to cum.
“Fuck, Daddy, I—I’m close!”
Sensing your impending orgasm, the man uses his free hand to slap your cheek then grabs your throat. “Uh-uh-uh,” he tuts, “Ask Daddy for permission to cum.” You’re clamping down on his fingers impossibly tighter as he fingers you even deeper, and the way he sucks on your clit renders you incapable of speech. Each time you open your mouth to try to speak, more desperate, wanton noises escape your lips.
You’re about to fucking burst at the seams and you feel like you’re on fire, but you want to be a good girl for your daddy, so you use the last bit of brain power you have left to ask for permission.
“P-pleaaase Daddy may I ahhh! May I cum!” you ask, but you can’t even hear Keishin give his approval from how loud the blood rushing in your ears is as you finally cum.
You try to muffle your cries with the back of your hand, but he grabs your wrist and wrenches it away from your mouth.
“Don’t do that. I want to hear you scream.” His tone is clipped and short, not caring how rough he is with your delicate flesh.
If you weren’t already cumming, you would have from the pleasure that’s so intense, it’s almost painful as your body is wracked with tremors. Your legs snap around Keishin’s head and you grip his hair even tighter as wave upon wave of your orgasm washes over you. You hear someone screaming and wonder what’s happening, when you realize it’s you, you’re the one screaming as you ride out your climax.
He greedily slurps and sucks up every single drop of your release that you can give him, as if he was stranded in the desert for a thousand years and your juices are the first sip of water to hit his dry, parched tongue. Your cunt is already so sensitive, painfully clenching around his fingers, but he just. Doesn’t. Stop.
“Fuck, K-Kei, wait ‘s too much,” you weakly protest, but your body is too spent to resist so you just lie there, twitching and gasping as he keeps sucking on your overstimulated clit.
His lips detach from your poor, abused bud and you almost sigh in relief before the fingers inside your cunt pump faster, stimulating every inch of your gummy walls.
Keishin leans over your sweaty, exhausted form, one hand braced on the couch, the other buried inside you. His fingers are hitting a spot inside you that makes you feel the urge to pee, so you try to push his hand away but it’s futile with how much stronger he is than you. 
“Hold onnn, I’m g-gonna—” you slur, panicked, but it’s as if he didn’t hear you.
His digits are relentless, rubbing and stroking and you’re a fucked out mess. You don’t know what he wants until an uncomfortable tightness shoots through your cunt. You cry out as clear liquid gushes out of you, splashing all over you, the couch, and Keishin. If you were more coherent, you might be mortified because you just… pissed on him—
To your surprise, he’s laughing as he removes his hand from inside you, ignoring your halfhearted groans. “I was hoping you’d do that,” he says, holding up his hand, shiny and dripping with your juices. 
“D-Do what?” you pant, unsure of what just happened and why Keishin seems so smug.
He uses his discarded t-shirt to wipe his hand off, then dabs at your stomach where a sizable puddle accumulated. “Squirt,” he responds. When he sees your confused expression, he follows up with, “It’s not piss, if you’re worried about that.”
“Ooookay.” You’re too dazed and exhausted to argue with him or question him further, so you just flop into the sofa and close your eyes.
“C’mon, little girl, don't tell me that’s all you’ve got. You were talking so much shit earlier and I have so much more to give you.” Despite how tired you are, his words spark new arousal in your belly and defiance revitalizes you, movement returning to your limbs.
You slide a hand down your stomach and spread the puffy lips of your cunt, sliding a finger through your wetness. “Of course it’s not. I’m ready to take that hard cock of yours, Daddy.”
“Attagirl, that’s what I like to see,” he praises, dropping his underwear and sliding them somewhere you can’t see. 
His cock is gorgeous, but that doesn’t come as a surprise, considering the man it belongs to. It’s thick and curved in a way that you know will reach the deepest parts of you.
What you weren’t expecting is the many piercings adorning the shaft and the one that goes through the head. A long curved barbell enters through the tip and exits through the underside of his glans. Three evenly spaced rings are embedded in the skin where his shaft meets his balls. You’ve never seen so many piercings on one man, let alone in such a sensitive place, so you gawk at the smooth metal rings that shine in the overhead lights.
“You’re… You have…”
He grins widely and it’s so devilish you think he might swallow you whole and honestly? You’d let him. You’d let him do whatever he wants to you. “Haha, yeah I get that reaction a lot. Never seen a pierced cock before, huh?”
“No, but there’s a first time for everything. I’m dying to see how those,” you point to his piercings, “Feel inside me.”
Keishin wordlessly climbs on top of you and rubs the head against your wetness, spreading it along his shaft to ease his entry. “They’ll feel fucking incredible, but you’ll have to beg for it.”
You scoff, reaching to grab his hips so he’ll fuck you already, but he scoots backwards so you can’t touch him.
“Naughty girls that misbehave don’t get fucked, so you’d better smarten up quickly,” he warns, making you gasp as he thrusts his cock against your clit.
He lazily nudges the head over your flesh, occasionally letting it catch on the tight ring of muscle around your hole. When he slots between your pussy lips, you try to wiggle and hump your hips in his direction, in hopes that he’ll slide right in.
But he doesn’t, and you’re about to go mad with his cock so close, but so far away.
“Please fuck me Daddy. I need your cock so bad!” You’re on the verge of tears, the buildup of the last few weeks overwhelming your senses.
Making a noise of sympathy, Keishin pets your hair affectionately and kisses your cheek. “All you had to do was ask.”
His hips pull back, then he’s thrusting inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt in your tight heat. You whimper and whine at the sudden intrusion, but any pain you feel is overshadowed by the way that his cock is filling you so full. The burn and stretch hurts so fucking good that your orgasm hits you like a freight train, fast and hard and blinding. Keishin fucks you through it, his cock touching all of the sensitive spots inside you and the pleasure is so strong you have to screw your eyes shut as you cry out and fall apart around him.
When you open them again, the man is staring down at you with the most shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen. “See? I said you’d cum as soon as I put my cock inside you.”
Using all the strength you can muster, you slap his arm. “Shut up and just fuck me.”
“You still haven’t learned your manners, but I just can’t wait to shoot my cum deep inside this cute cunt of yours,” Keishin groans, pulling almost all the way out before burying himself back inside the hot, welcoming clutch of your pussy. 
You can feel each of the metal rings on his cock, foreign and strange, but the odd feeling soon fades to little shocks of ecstasy each time they brush against your insides.
The lewd slapping sounds of skin on skin are all you can hear besides the occasional moan or hiss from the man fucking you within an inch of your life, not that you can focus on anything else right now.
You nudge at Keishin’s shoulder and he stops the rapid pistoning of his hips, an almost annoyed look on his face.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, but you just smile and push him backwards onto the couch, just like you were. He grunts in surprise as he falls backward, but he quickly quiets down when you climb on top of him and sink yourself back down on his length.
You both moan in unison as he fills you once more, the tip of his cock pressing against your cervix each time you force your cunt back down on him. His hands wander to your tits, grabbing, squeezing, and pinching the sensitive buds of your nipples. 
Ever the troublemaker, you can’t resist making a jab at him now that you’re on top. “I wonder what she’d do if she knew you were with me right now. What would your daughter say about you taking advantage of a young, helpless girl?”
Keishin takes that moment to pull you against him, thrusting hard and rough into your gummy walls that never stop pulsing around him. You’re shaking and gasping, your tongue lolling out of your mouth in your pleasured delirium. “With the way your greedy, sloppy cunt is clenching around me, I wouldn’t say I’m taking advantage of you,” he points out, only slightly out of breath. “But you get off on this, don’t you? Letting an old man like me fuck you. I’m old enough to be your father.”
“Like you’re any b-better,” you bite back.
You cry out when Keishin starts rubbing your swollen clit in tight little circles, your third orgasm fast approaching. 
“Fuck! I can—urgh, I can feel your pussy pulsing around me. I’m g-gonna cum,” he grits out, thrusting impossibly deeper inside you. He's pressed so far into you, he’s just thumping the head of his cock against your cervix. You scream and write in his arms, seeking to relieve the sharp burning in your womb just a little bit, but he has you firmly locked in his clutches. “Be a good little girl and cum for Daddy.”
Almost on command, you shake and moan, loud and long, as you cream all over his cock and coat the base in milky white. “Oh fuck, oh god! D-Daddy I’m cu-mming!” you wail with the last of your energy.
You’re so exhausted you go limp against him and let him use your body as a fuck toy until he reaches his climax. Keishin follows soon behind you, his thrusts growing sloppier and less coordinated as he mumbles obscenities under his breath. “Shit shit shit, fuck I’m cumming! I’m gonna—fuck!”
With one last thrust into your fluttering, over stimulated cunt he orgasms, his legs shaking as he shoots rope after rope of cum into your quivering womb.
You both lay there for several minutes to catch your breaths. You’re so sore and boneless you can barely move, but you manage to extricate yourself from Keishin’s long limbs. Leaning into the arm of the couch, you let your eyes flutter closed and allow sleep to take you.
You’re awoken by a warm, wet washcloth rubbing against your sensitive folds and you whine, sleepily wiggling your hips to get away from the discomfort. “Kid, I know it doesn’t feel good but, uh, it’s kind of a mess down there. You can go back to sleep, just let me clean you up.” Keishin’s familiar timbre comforts you so you settle back down, still half asleep.
“Mmm, Keishin?” you mumble, making grabby hands at the man.
He takes one of your hands in his. “Yeah?” he responds as he wipes the washcloth between your legs with his other hand.
You rub your face against his hand before placing a sloppy kiss on top of it. “Thank youuuu,” you slur.
Keishin just chuckles and rubs his fingers over your knuckles. “Yeah kid, you’re welcome. Just get some rest, alright?”
You’re asleep before he even finishes the sentence.
----
When you awaken it’s dark, most likely the middle of the night. There’s a blanket thrown over your unexpectedly clothed body, which is now covered in a worn, oversized shirt. It smells like fabric softener and musk, so you figure it must be Keishin’s.
Looking around, you bolt upright when you realize you’re not on the living room couch anymore, you’re now in a large, comfortable bed.
The sound of a deep, rumbling voice draws your attention to the bathroom connected to the room you’re currently in. “Oh, you’re finally awake,” Keishin says sheepishly as he emerges from the bathroom, then points to the nightstand next to you. “There’s some water and ibuprofen, you should take it. Even if you’re not sore now, you will be later.”
You chuckle tiredly as you stretch your overworked muscles. “I’m already sore, so I’ll definitely be taking these.”
He sits awkwardly on the side of the bed, unsure how to treat you after your little encounter. His brows are furrowed, a deep frown on he’s seemingly deep in thought.
“Whatever you’re thinking, just spit it out.” His head immediately snaps to you, eyes guarded and unreadable.
“What we did downstairs, it’s… not right. I’m supposed to protect young, impressionable girls like you. I’m a father—I would die if Tomi was after a man more than twice her age.”
You pull the blanket off of you and climb over to where the older man is seated on the mattress. “Keishin, let me ask you something.” He lifts his head, expectant. “Did you enjoy what we did? Because I did.” He nods slowly, still unsure what you’re getting at.
Taking his face in your hands, you tell him what you’ve been thinking for weeks. “At the end of the day, we’re two consenting adults who partook in consensual activities. Even if someone wants to clutch their pearls because you’re older than me, who cares?”
“Yeah, I get that, but… It has to be some sort of ethics violation on my part. You’re younger than my daughter, Bunny.”
“Even if it is, you have to allow yourself to live a little. Life is too short to deny yourself pleasures the world has to offer, and I don’t know about you, but I was very pleased by our… tryst.”
A cute blush spreads across Keishin’s cheeks as he remembers everything he said and did to you. “Aha, I was too. So, um… Would you want to do that again, sometime?” he asks, running a hand through his hair like he always does when he’s nervous.
You giggle and tackle him on the bed, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing. “Of course I do. We can even do it now, if you’d like…”
A couple hours later, just before Hitomi comes back, you limp across the hallway to your room and pass out, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.
And that is how your little arrangement begins.
Most of your time is spent with Hitomi, mostly shopping and going out to eat when she has the day off, or just watching Netflix in her room when you’re both too tired to go anywhere.
However, in the wee hours of the morning when you’re sure that she’s asleep, you sneak up to her father’s bedroom and get fucked so hard and so good you can barely make it back to your bedroom before the sun rises.
It’s a good arrangement, you think, you both get what you want and your friend is none the wiser. You figure no harm, no foul. At the end of the winter break, Keishin will likely want to cut things off with you and you’ll go back to your college dorm as if nothing happened.
But the winter break isn’t over yet, and you plan on making the most of it.
Keishin has been fucking you into the mattress for so long, time no longer even makes sense anymore. 
You’re sweaty and exhausted, muscles so sore and shaky, but the thrusting between your legs shows no signs of stopping anytime soon. The harsh grip on your hips will likely bruise, but luckily you can hide them, unlike the few close calls you’ve had with poorly-placed marks on your neck.
Despite your exhaustion, you continue to meet Keishin’s thrusts by humping your hips back at him.
He gives your ass a harsh spank and fucks into you harder, making you whine and clench around him. “You’re an insatiable little thing, aren’t you? So fucked out and dripping with my cum, yet you still want more,” he says, but all you can do is gasp in response. You’re too far gone to produce any meaningful response. “What am I going to do with you?” If you had the energy, you’d tell him whatever he wants, but you don’t and the familiar tug of an orgasm is too hard to ignore.
“Fuck Daddy, I-I’m—”  
Suddenly, his phone comes to life, Hitomi’s face lighting up the screen as it vibrates. The pistoning of his hips slows, then stops completely as he reaches over and grabs it off the nightstand.
He suddenly pulls out of your sore, abused cunt and you almost whine at the loss before he buries himself back inside you. The way your face is pressed into the mattress makes it difficult, but you manage to turn your head to see what Keishin is doing behind you.
Your eyes widen and you try to wriggle out of his grip when you figure out that he’s going to answer his phone as he keeps fucking you.
A hand wraps around your neck, lifting you up from your position on the bed and you have to follow its movement to prevent your windpipe from getting crushed. You’re pressed against Keishin’s hard chest, and his cock is nestled right against your cervix. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll just stay still and take it like a good little girl.”
The harsh grip on your neck releases and you’re shoved back into the bed, falling onto the comforter.
Keishin sounds completely normal when he answers his phone and it almost pisses you off—how can he be so unaffected when you’re at your wit’s end? 
He chirps into the phone, “Hey sweetheart, what’s up?” The only indication that anything is amiss is the slight breathlessness in his voice and the occasional curse under his breath.
He forces himself even deeper inside you so forcefully that you’re afraid he’ll punch straight through to your womb. You know it’s not possible, but with Keishin, it just might be. He’s always full of surprises, especially when it comes to your body.
“Oh yeah, sure I can drop it off to you later. I’m just a little… preoccupied at the moment,” he says with a sharp thrust of his hips and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips. Keishin stiffens above you, waiting to see if Hitomi heard you through the phone.
“No, Hitomi, I’m not watching porn! But hold on a second, I think someone is at the door.” He sets the phone on the bed, muting the call as his cock hits your g-spot and you’re shaking, practically shivering in his arms. A couple of hard, coordinated rubs of your engorged clit and you’re cumming, gushing around him and keening as your muscles clench uncomfortably. You scream silently and fall limp onto the bed, unable to hold yourself up any longer. 
You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum, but it’s to the point that each successive orgasm borders on the edge of pleasure and pain.
“Better keep quiet, wouldn’t want my daughter to hear you getting your pretty little cunt stuffed full of my cock,” Keishin snarls into your ear and you feel yourself clench painfully around him. Your body is just so worn out, but you know he won’t stop until he’s satisfied. “Or do you want her to know what a slut you are for her father?”
You shake your head vehemently, but the man inside you just chuckles as he keeps fucking you.
“Oh my god, oh fuck I-I…” You’re babbling nonsense to no one in particular.
“Ahh it was just-fuck, it was just some dude trying to sell me security cameras. Anyways, I’ll see you later honey, I love you.” His last few sentences sound rushed, urgent and you can tell from the twitching of his length that he’s close. The moment the phone is hung up, Keishin cages you between his body and the mattress. “Your cunt feels so fucking good, I’m gonna fill you up with my cum. Would you like that?”
You try to nod and make a noise akin to ‘mhm,’ but you’re not sure what it sounds like. You’re not really sure of anything right now, but what you are sure of is you want him to cum inside you.
“I could never deny you anything, sweet girl,” he groans.
Keishin fucks into you harder, faster, and it feels as if he’s quite literally rearranging your guts, he’s so deep inside you. He reaches down between your legs and pinches your sensitive bud between his fingers. “Think you have one more in you, hm?” he asks, but he doesn’t wait for your answer. Of course you do.” He rubs your sore clit the way he knows will have you shaking and coming apart around him.
“Fuck Daddy, fuck I’m cumming!” you squeal, writhing and squirming from the painful, aching tightness of your orgasm as it builds once more. 
“Ergh, fuck yeah, cum on Daddy’s cock as he fills you up. You’re such a good fucking girl for me, I love this sweet pussy.”
You shriek as you cum, your climax so strong that your vision blurs at the edges and you convulse, sore muscles twitching with overuse. 
“Daddy’s gonna breed his sweet little girl, fuck, feels so fucking good!” Keishin groans, burying himself as deeply as he can inside you and shooting his cum into your quivering hole. You sigh in relief at the feeling of his warm cum flooding your womb, thankful he finally came because you couldn’t have lasted much longer in your state.
He flops next to you on the bed, sweaty and exhausted from your hours-long fuck marathon. Throwing an arm over your waist, he pulls you to his chest and buries his nose in your neck. 
Hitomi’s not supposed to come back for several hours, so you both deem it safe to fall asleep as you are. Just when you’re about to drift off, your phone buzzes from the bedside table.
You reach for your phone, expecting it to be some spam email.
Your heart stops, the whole world seems to freeze when you open the text message.
From: Tomie <3
So when were you going to tell me you’re fucking my dad?
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fandomwriterstuff · 3 years ago
Text
A Seat at the Round Table (1)
Mob!Stucky x Female Reader
Rated T
~1.3k words
Your father has kept you safely hidden all these years from his mysterious bosses, but one slip up and you're on their radar.
Your father wasn’t the best man. In fact, from your teenage years onwards you felt a growing disdain for the slimy man who helped conceive you and raised you. Sure, you were in a nice home with a wait staff and enhanced security, but your father also didn’t trust you to do anything other than attend school and look pretty. Though even that was limited. All those times you’d begged him to take you to those balls he would attend or see the business he worked at or so much as cook your own dinner… You were reprimanded.
Luckily his ambiguous business life took off in your teens and you found yourself with more free alone time. You had your guards at all times but you could cook for yourself and experiment with makeup and date! The dates were always one time things, but you liked getting out. 
But still you were sheltered. So you found yourself in your mid-twenties still living in his elaborate and gaudy manor. You were slightly afraid you wouldn’t be able to live on your own so you allowed him to keep you there, but you were getting anxious and restless with each passing day.
You spent your hours painting, singing, reading, studying the classics, finding new recipes, learning about world politics, and dreading the minute he got home. And so you spent your afternoon cooking for yourself, having to clean as you went so your father wouldn’t be angry. He didn’t trust you not to cut yourself with a knife or slip on a wet floor or burn yourself. What he didn’t know was you loved to cook. So you only cooked small portions and had it cleaned up before his nightly arrival home at seven. 
But this afternoon was different. You heard the lock click in the door as you opened the oven to check on your brown butter sweet potatoes, and whipped your head towards your guard, John. He was normal-ish but he was still a hard-headed ex-military jerkoff. He was tense and was already reaching for his weapon when he saw who had entered. 
“John?” Your father’s voice cut through the tenseness and your eyes widened. You thought you were being robbed. Honestly, you were better off being robbed. You’d told your father you and John were going shopping and instead you stayed home and cooked. He wouldn’t take too kindly to your lies. 
“What are you…” He trailed off at the sight of you in a gingham apron, spatula in hand and herby aroma in the air. “Darling,” he spoke through his teeth, still blocking the door frame. “I thought you were out shopping.”
“Darling?” You heard a feminine voice call out and you cocked your head. “Who’s this?” A blonde pushed your father aside and made herself known. 
“This is my daughter,” and you would swear your father paled and his hands had a waver in them as this woman approached you. His reaction in itself put you on edge and you leaned back against the counter behind you, knife block within reach. 
“Didn’t know you had a daughter, Dagonet,” the woman raised a perfectly sculpted brow at your father and you found yourself mouthing the unfamiliar name. 
“It was a need to know situation, Nimueh,” he grunted, his discomfort at the situation growing. 
“Well, introduce me,” she had a shark-like smile gracing her features as she approached you, all black pantsuit looking deadly and sexy all at once. 
“This is my daughter, Y/N, and this is Nimueh,” you arched an eyebrow, you were starting to think these were aliases. You’d seen Merlin on Netflix enough times to recognize the name of the Lady of the Lake. 
“You can call me Sharon, sweetheart,” Sharon finally got close enough to you to touch and reached an elegant hand out to shake. 
“Nice to meet you, Sharon. Do you work with my father?” 
“Sweetheart, you wouldn’t understand the business. Best not to ask about it and get confused,” your father cut you off and you frowned. You weren’t stupid. You knew he underestimated you. And you knew Sharon could tell something was off based on the calculating frown on her face.
“I do work with him, though I didn’t know you existed. I thought we were closer than that,” she turned her head, sort of owlish, to look over at your father. “I thought you and the bosses were closer than that.” Your father blanched and you frowned. The bosses? Who were they?
Sharon must have sensed your confusion, as she turned back to you.
“Arthur and Merlin. Our bosses. They would be disappointed in your father for keeping you such a tight-lipped secret, but delighted to meet you,” and in a moment Sharon whipped around and made her way briskly to the door. 
“That’s enough for today, Dagonet. We can talk business at a later date. And Y/N,” you tilted your gaze to meet the eyes of the beautiful woman. “It was lovely to meet you,” and with that the front door shut.
“What did you think you were doing?” Were the first words your father uttered, rage coming off of him in waves. Heart rate rising, you backed away from his imposing presence, only pressing back further into the counter. 
“I was hungry,” you muttered, sliding your gaze over to John. He likely wouldn’t help, he would protect you at all costs but he wouldn’t lie to your father. 
“John knows how to cook. You know I don’t want you cooking. You could get hurt or burn the house down,” your father spoke down at you and you frowned.
“I’m not useless,” you whispered. 
“Don’t talk back to me,” drops of spittle flung from his mouth as his voice rose and he leaned closer to you. Eyes locked on your feet you nodded, afraid of what he might say or do next.
“Now take this off,” he tugged at the string of your apron. “You look ridiculous.”
Again, you nodded. Tears pricked at your eyes as your shaking hands tugged the apron over your head. You couldn’t look up at your father or over at John as you rushed to the stairs and up into your bedroom. 
You couldn’t hold back any longer, the anxiety of being caught and the fear of your father punishing you finally overtaking you as you flung yourself onto your bed and let the tears flow. 
Meanwhile:
Sharon popped her bubblegum as she walked up to her two awaiting bosses. 
“How did business go with Dagonet?” the man known as Arthur asked, blonde hair shining with the evening sun coming down on him like a halo. 
Sharon grinned her favorite grin as she stopped several feet away from him and his partner.
“I never got to the threatening him part,” she admitted, picking a hair off of her leather jacket.
The man known to most as Merlin raised a dark eyebrow. 
“Then why are you smiling like the cat that got the canary?” He wasn’t outwardly angry, Sharon was a trusted employee and she would have her reasons for not completing her mission. 
“Boys, have I got some tea to spill,” Sharon tilted her head and placed her hands on her hips. 
“This better be riveting insider information if you failed to threaten Dagonet for stealing from us,” Arthur spoke from his desk, letting a sliver of irritation slip into his voice. It let Sharon know she better get to the information quickly.
“Dagonet has a child. A girl, mid-twenties if I had to guess,” she smirked. “She seems like she doesn’t know he works in the underbelly of New York, likely doesn’t know that he stole from you. She’s sheltered.” Sharon waited as the news sank in. 
“A daughter?” Arthur’s blue eyes were sharp as he processed this information. 
“A secret daughter,” Merlin frowned. It wasn’t like them to be unaware of something so important as a child. An adult one at that. It was a hole in the operation. It was dangerous. They would have to do something about it.
“Find out more about her. Keep this project between yourself and Sam.”
“It would be my pleasure.”
Part 2
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