#she's even been a pain with the grandparents
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eternalremorse · 2 years ago
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catwouthats · 3 months ago
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“How can this many people simply vote for Trump in the first place?”
✨Gaslighting✨
And
✨Teaching themselves apathy because they have been pushed to the brink and are only focused on their own survival and think that this guy will give it because he
gaslight themmmm✨
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thatonesmartkidfromschool · 15 days ago
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Dog got put down today and the saddest I've been all day is because of pokemon angst. What the hell is wrong with me. Why can't I care.
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moralchampion · 7 months ago
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Can't believe my great grandma is just gone... and I didn't even actually get to say goodbye
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thefabelmans2022 · 1 year ago
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seriously what is it with parents hiding medical information from their kids that's so fucked up
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felixisnotfruity · 1 month ago
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I HATE CHRISTMAS EVE!!!!
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brainjuicey · 5 months ago
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for someone that finds it so difficult to connect with peers, its a cruel circumstance to be deprived of any productive familial relationship
#no father a broken mother grandparents who despise us mentally unwell uncles estranged cousins abusive aunts#a lifetime of hurtfully ended friendships#and im crying today after wasting a whole day just because i have nothing that can end this pain because#my mother will always prioritise abusive men and her abusive parents over me and i cant fix her#and i hate her for it. i have so much anger inside me#but she is the only one who has ever claimed to love me#and i will never get another family. ill never have more parents. ill never get my childhood back#i will never know so much love that i only discovered in my adulthood to be something almost everyone else has#and sure i can have a meaningful life of kindness and compassion and responsibility but i will never have unconditional love#this. and now i am free falling through the world#i have to escape and yet anywhere i go i will only be more alone#pacified with feats and impressions and ego. people bragging and trying to attain me. using me. misunderstanding me.#what can i really say to the world? what do i even have to give when im empty?#if one more person says im cool and never makes an effort to know me instead of make them and myself feel ?good? about being ?individualist?#in a way they approve or look up to#they can never understand the pain and separation it takes to be an individual by nature. not choice. not for sport or hobby#for every man I've understood and every friend that ive reassured and validated. ive never once been held myself#ive never been understood and im going to tear concrete apart with my fingernails if i have to feel like this any longer#loneliness so strong i have to build myself a home inside it to survive
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bohemiandeer · 11 months ago
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You know what hits me hard? When 5 to 6 year old children, all the way in Southeast Asia, knows about what's happening in Palestine right now. That children their age is getting bombed, that they're starving to death, that they're getting shot at, and sniped in the head. Because, just this past 2 or so months, I heard some of the little ones in the Kindergarten classes I'm TAing in as an Intern talk about it. Hell, one of the little boys downright said he didn't like Israel, because Israel is bad, because they do scary things. Another was questioning whether Palestine was bad too, because, "why else would they shooting at them?". A little girl in one of my classes doesn't want to finish her food at all, because she wants to save at least half her meat and rice for kids in Palestine, because she heard that, they don't have food. And that's just the ones I remember. Namely the inciting cases before their classmates slowly follow suit. The littles are fricking SCARED. We had to sit these kids down, and tell them that the topic is too mature for them at the moment, that they shouldn't even be concerned because they're KINDERGARTNERS, they're not even old enough to properly understand. The one teacher I was TAing for had to make a class announcement saying that. What gets me is, these are 5 to 6 year olds, the youngest I've worked with in this specific age group is 4. 5 years old on average, and they've already been exposed to the worst horrors genocide has to offer through the news and snippets of conversation among adults and hell, considering how many of them say they like to play games on Mama's phone, or their IPad, even from fricking social media. And the fact that, these literal babies, from all the way in Cambodia, has more empathy in their entire body and soul, than full grown fricking adults have in the nail of their pinky finger, gets me. FFS we as adults could LEARN from them I feel sometimes. I honestly don't know what to feel about it anymore. On the one hand, this is the next generation I'm working with. And if the next generation's default response to a tragedy such as Palestine, is what I've seen come up on occasion so far? Perhaps there's some bloody hope for this world after all. At least in this country. Especially since a majority of them already come from families who survived a genocide. These are the 3rd - 4th generation descendants of those who survived the Khmer Rouge. They've got grandparents at home, who no doubt are more than intimately familiar with what Palestine is going through right now. And it shows.
But on the other, it makes my heart sink because these are CHILDREN, these are LITTLE KIDS, they should be playing with their toys and watching cartoons and talking to their friends about everything from Spiderman to Speakerman to Kuromi and her friends, and be worried about whether or not they can go to playground that day, guranteed they're well behaved, or if Mama remembered to pack in their costume for swimming lessons that week. NOT JUST MY KIDS. But the little ones in Palestine too. They deserve better. They all deserve, so much better. Hell, it's come to the point that whenever I look at my kiddos right now, whether they'd be working in class, playing, doing something as mundane as eating lunch or getting ready for their nap. I think of the children their age in Palestine that didn't even get the chance to survive. I think of the ones whose memories from this age, is nothing but absolute horror and pain, rather than what has slowly become my normal, who never got to experience what my littles do on a daily basis right now.
Children shouldn't even be concerned about "War", about a Genocide. The last thing that should be on a 5 year old's mind, is pain, and suffering, and the worst horrors imaginable ever to be inflicted on a human being. ESPECIALLY WHEN IT'S INFLICTED, ON OTHER CHILDREN THEIR AGE. And for that alone, the world has failed them. Especially the kids in Palestine who didn't ask for any of this. They just wanted to carry on with life as kids do, the same way as my littles do on a daily basis no doubt, learning, playing, chatting with friends over their favourite cartoons and characters, worrying about whether they'd get to go to the playground or not that day.
I apologize for talking about this on this blog. I know my blog tends to be lighter in feel, a lot more unhinged and light hearted typically. I mean, I'm just a fricking nerd who likes to draw and write, and lurk about her favourite fandoms to consume and support what is shared among other nerds who also like to draw and write. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. About contemplating it, especially since I'll be back on a roll tomorrow, working with my kiddos again after not seeing them for 5 days straight because of Holidays. And, I just had to talk about it. This is something I felt I couldn't keep to myself this time, I don't think my soul'd be able to carry it. I had to talk about it.
FREE PALESTINE. Our children deserve better.
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raywhitfield92 · 1 month ago
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I might get a lot of hate for this, but I want Helluva Boss to explore the myriad of reasons cis women get abortions. I want it to be explored in a healthy way
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Because I feel in the current climate (especially politically) people don't want to ever think of the possibility that a woman won't want children. Millie isn't happy about this news.
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And I'd absolutely love for Millie to not tell Moxxie she had an abortion, I want her to feel guilty about it and talk to Blitzø about it, worrying that if Moxxie knew he'd hate her.
And I want Blitzø to convince her that because he loves her he would support her no matter what. And when she tells Moxxie he just says "it's your body so it's your choice, but next time let me know so I can help you through this."
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Not all cis women want nor can physically have children. We need to talk about abortion in a much healthier way than the current climate allows.
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Edit to add this:
Okay so while replying to someone it made me think, what if they tied this in to Stella's backstory? Very early on we see that Stella seems kind of distant towards Octavia.
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If Stella is a woman who was forced to have a child when she didn't want one, her personality towards Stolas and Octavia becomes more apparent.
She spends more time with her brother than with Octavia.
she even calls her "an egg"
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and "his daughter" instead of ever calling her Octavia or even her own daughter.
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This could be a good way to explore how a person who was forced into a mothering role could act, and explains her distaste for Stolas' strength of actually doing something against the Ars Goetias authority.
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Stella in this moment sees Octavia crying, but if we look at her eyes closely she isn't watching the television, she's looking at Octavia and smiling at the fact she's in pain.
Stella thinks she's proven here that it's impossible/was impossible to ever go against the status quo, that her wishes of ever disobeying the Goetia is futile and she's proven to Stolas and Octavia that it was always impossible.
I think a plot like this could really help the audience understand childfree people from a different perspective, and what  could happen if you force a person who wishes to be childfree to have a child.
She could even have been mentally unwell/unstable after/before giving birth, which effects how she reacts towards people.
We as a society need to stop pressuring people into doing things our grandparents did just because it's what is expected of you.
This whole show is about generational trauma and breaking free from it, so I can see the show going this direction if it chooses to.
What do you think of this idea, and of it tying into a possible Stella backstory?
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notjustjavierpena · 1 month ago
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Parents
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Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
A/N: Merry belated Christmas from me! I know this is my second Christmas fic this time around but I finally got the courage to write about Wife’s awful parents. 
Summary: Javier puts his foot down during Christmas with your toxic family. 
Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader/you (no y/n)
Tags: Toxic family dynamics, psychological abuse, childhood trauma, Christmas, conflict and confrontation, sobbing, declarations of love, hurt/comfort, body/fat shaming
Word count: 5.7k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61942318
Parents
You get a call from your parents’ home number a few weeks before Christmas. Your mother and father haven't actually bothered seeing you since your wedding day last year but Lucas is four months old now and there’s suddenly a strange interest from them in being grandparents to your firstborn. Somehow, they talk you into spending Christmas with them and reassure you that they’ll take care of everything as long as you bring their grandson. The whole idea causes a ball of anxiety to settle in your stomach, almost imitating getting hit right in the solar plexus with how much your breath struggles to even out as you tell Javier about it. Your husband agrees reluctantly but not without raising a concerned brow, asking you several times - and with days between each time - if you are absolutely sure.��
He even asks you now as he parks the car in your parents’ driveway, looking at you with a serious expression, brows furrowed while you sit stiffly in the passenger seat. You glance towards the front door, trying to act casual as if you’re staring at a wild animal who might pounce if it notices your anxiety. It is an odd feeling you get, staring at your childhood home but feeling more as if it is the scene of a crime. This house is not a memory of warm and fuzzy feelings but rather a place of constant criticism and unjust pain. 
Javier says your name softly beside you. On the backseat, Lucas hiccups.
“Do I look okay?” You quickly ask instead of acknowledging the tone of his voice, fixing your hair without changing anything. 
“Yeah,” he answers and tries not to comment on your nerves, “You look beautiful, mi amor (my love).”
The call from two weeks ago had your shoulders tensing up before you even answered the phone but the way they had reasoned you into revisiting the place of your hardest years has made your shoulders not come down again. 
You sigh gently and unbuckle your seatbelt, “Okay. I can do this for just an afternoon. Let’s get this over with.”
You climb out of the car, Javier following you after carefully unbuckling Lucas and cradling him in one arm while balancing the diaper bag on the other shoulder. You leave his car seat, knowing how much easier it would have been to transport your son inside in it but Lucas has been fussy all night. You really wish he hadn’t because you don’t want to go inside with only half the energy that a good night’s sleep could have provided. 
As you ring the doorbell, you take a look at Javier one last time, “Please don’t interfere. I don’t want to make everyone uncomfortable.”
“Baby, are you sure that—“
“Oh, there you are!” Your mother exclaims when she opens the door with a syrupy smile, “We were starting to wonder if you’d gotten lost.”
“Sorry. Life with a baby and all,” you shake your head with an embarrassed chuckle and try to ignore the tension in your muscles, shrugging your coat off your shoulders to reveal your wine-red button-up and dark skirt. 
“Honey, I thought you knew we always dress up a little during the Holidays,” your mother says while glancing at your outfit with veiled disdain, “Where’s that nice blue dress? With the ribbons?”
“This is all that fits me right now, that isn’t maternity clothes,” you answer apologetically at the first jab of many. Beside you, Javier takes a step closer to you without saying anything. 
“Anyway! Where’s the little man?” Your mother chirps, already having moved on and looking to Lucas who has started stirring in Javier’s arms. When she gets closer, about to reach out to run a hand over his little head, Lucas immediately starts whimpering as if he is aware of the unpleasantries that his mother has had to endure at the mercy of this woman. He knows the culprits before they’ve even revealed themselves. 
“Oh, he’s a little fussy, isn’t he?” She laughs it off and retreats much to your relief, letting Javier bounce your son to make him settle down again. When he quietens down again, you share a glance with your husband who signals that everything is okay. You take a deep breath and let him handle the situation. 
“Where’s Dad?” You ask to turn your attention away from your crying child, smoothing out a nonexistent crease in your skirt. 
“I think he’s just about to get the turkey out of the oven,” your mother says, wagging a finger in Lucas’ face with a little smile, “Why don’t you go say hi and I talk to my grandson for a moment? Oh, look at you, Lucas! You’re just perfect, aren’t you?”
You reluctantly leave the three of them to head for the kitchen. You can feel each family photograph staring back at you as you walk through the hallway to your destination; a picture of your five-year-old self on a bike but somehow no picture of your graduation ceremony as if it has been decided where things went wrong before you could acknowledge it yourself. 
“Hey Dad, smells so good in here,” the kitchen does indeed smell wonderfully as you walk through the door. Your father looks at you over his shoulder, giving you a little smile and you try not to think about how he didn’t bother to come out to greet you. 
“Mom and I were wondering if you were ever coming,” he notes while plating pieces of turkey meat. In the hallway, you can hear Javier striking up polite conversation. He’s handling your mother with his usual calmness, and you feel grateful for his presence yet embarrassed that you aren’t strong enough to handle it yourself.
You shrug a little, Javier’s presence giving you the courage to try and mirror said calmness, “Newborns, you know.”
“He’s four months,” he corrects. 
“Right, time flies,” you reply with your confidence fading fast, the words coming out in a way that doesn’t quite carry the quick wit that Javier usually loves about you. You touch your arm, standing awkwardly by the counter, “Still figuring it out as we go.”
Your father doesn’t turn around, “Parenting’s not rocket science, you know. Your mother and I managed just fine without all the made-up nonsense you young people talk about these days.”
You jump a little as your mother puts a hand on your shoulder and says your name to get your attention. You look back at her, “Can you set the table? I put the tablecloth ready on the silverware cabinet.”
“Sure, Mom,” you smile, already heading for the dining room to escape from your father’s subtle judgments. You find Javier has already gone, an irrational thought popping into your head of how he has bolted and left you to deal with your mom and dad by yourself. 
You glance into the kitchen as you start placing the plates in each of their respective places, “Where’s Javier?”
“He went to get the presents from the car,” your mother replies from the kitchen. You hear her take out a serving bowl from a cabinet. 
“Oh, I should go help him wi—“ 
“He’s your husband, sweetie. Let him handle it. There’s no need to emasculate him like that,” she is suddenly in the doorway, staring you down in a way that makes your hands shake. Her gaze drops to the table and her brows furrow, “You’re using the wrong plates!”
You look up with a racing heartbeat, “What?”
She sighs your name audibly, “These aren’t the Christmas plates. We don’t use regular plates for special occasions. Honestly, I thought you’d know better.”
The words sting and you set down the plates you have been holding in case the littlest twitch will make you drop it onto the floor, “Sorry, Mom.” 
“Ah well, now you’ll never forget it,” she jokes without humor in her voice as she opens the door to the china cabinet, pulling out the plates adorned with what you recognize to be hand-painted holly. You shamefully realize you know them from childhood Christmases and that they are exactly where they’ve always been. 
Automatically, you gather the wrong plates to make room for the right ones. It’s Christmas, you remind yourself as you do it. It is one day. You can survive one day. 
“See? Isn’t this much better?” She says cheerfully when your mistake has been corrected and while you nod, Javier reenters the house. 
He joins the two of you, carrying a large gift bag in one hand and holding Lucas on the other arm. You immediately go to take him, doing a careful transfer until you can lay his tiny body against your shoulder while supporting his bottom. 
“¿Todo bien? (Everything okay?)” Javier asks quietly when you follow him into the living room where the tree stands. He sets down the bag and tries to act casual, laying out the gifts and waiting for your honest response in the meantime. Apparently, you haven’t been as successful in hiding the distress on your face as you thought you had. 
You force a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes and Lucas starts whining again. You bounce him gently, “It’s nothing. Just… Christmas stuff.”
Javier glances toward the hallway to the kitchen where your parents’ voices can be heard faintly over the sounds of cooking. His jaw tightens slightly and his mouth becomes a thin line. 
“Don’t,” you say as firmly as you can muster because you wish he would, “It’ll only make it worse.”
“Dame un beso (give me a kiss),” he says instead, and you shyly lean in to peck him on the lips. Afterward, he pulls back but only after stroking Lucas’ back, “You’re both doing great, okay? Don’t let them get in your head.”
You are interrupted by your mother’s voice ringing out from the dining room, telling you that dinner is ready. Javier kisses you one last time before reassuring you that everything will be okay and that he is in your corner. You try to smile, tense as you take a seat with Lucas still in your arms. 
The Christmas meal begins with polite conversation, your father asking Javier about work and your mother telling you about neighbors that you haven’t spoken to in years. You mostly just speak when spoken to, having decided to focus on your baby as he keeps wriggling in your arms in discomfort. You try to rub his belly, try to make him settle by giving him your attention but still, his tiny face crumbles and he lets out a string of small complaints. 
“Maybe we could open presents while he naps?” You suggest hesitantly when your mother has given you enough judgemental advice, “He’s been so fussy all night, and I don’t want him to get more overwhelmed than he—”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” your mother says your name with a sigh. You hear Javier’s chair scrape against the floor, almost as if he is about to get up and get ready for a physical altercation.
“Let’s do whatever is easiest for the baby,” your father interrupts, placing a hand on your mother’s wrist. Her annoyance shines through her eyes but she nods with a smile nonetheless. 
“Of course,” you hear her grit out, “It’s just… We’d love to spend time with him. We’ve already missed so much, and Luke needs his grandparents.”
“We’ll see,” Javier answers for you. 
The dinner continues in mostly silence with turkey being substituted by pie, cutlery clinking against plates, and glasses being lifted and set down again. There’s tension so thick that it can be cut with a knife, your mother glancing at Lucas with a smile before it disappears from her face when she shifts her gaze to your direction.  
Mercilessly, she finally speaks, “So, honey, have you thought about when you’ll start losing the baby weight?”
“Mom!” You exclaim in shock, surprised that sound comes out when your throat feels like it is about to close up completely.
In the same manner as one would spit out a drink in shock, Javier’s fork scrapes unpleasantly against his plate, and suddenly, your mother’s name falls from his lips like the sound itself leaves him with a bad taste in his mouth. She looks startled by the interruption, almost like a deer in the headlights of a car, but it doesn’t faze your husband, “My wife looks beautiful and she has just given me - us - the greatest gift which is our son. Let’s not diminish that, shall we?”
You try to feel the weight of Lucas against your chest instead of how you don’t feel safe within this house, with its bruises on the walls and its ghosts of a youth spent walking on eggshells. Lucas’ body is warm, a reminder that this doesn’t matter. He matters. 
“I’m focused on taking care of my son right now, Mom,” you reply coolly with your lips resting on the soft hairs on Lucas’ head. 
“Right, of course. I didn’t mean anything by it,” your mother argues, clearly flustered, “You know how important it is to stay healthy for the baby.”
“Your mother just wants what’s best for you, honey,” your father intervenes, trying to steer the conversation onto friendlier and safer topics but she has already gotten up from her seat. 
“Why don’t I clear the table so we can move into the living room and open presents?” She mumbles, putting on a show by letting her voice waver. She has begun stacking plates before anyone can even say anything, practically fleeing the room and leaving you all looking slightly sheepish. Javier hides the roll of his eyes exceptionally well and he smiles when you catch him.
“I’ll put Lucas down for a nap,” you announce to what is left of the party.
Javier gets up alongside you to help you. He walks upstairs right behind you, a calming presence with the diaper bag in hand as you head for the guest room.
When you close the door behind the three of you, the tension seeps out of your body at having a quiet moment with your boys. The lighting in the room is soft and calming, almost making you want to lie down to nap with your son. 
“There we go,” you say as you gently place Lucas on the bed while Javier rummages through the bag for his pacifier. Lucas blinks up at you, his tiny fists balled and his chubby legs kicking excitedly. He lets out a happy gurgle.
“Oh, now you’re happy,” you tease softly and kneel by the bed to rub his tummy, “Picky with who we’re smiling at, are we?” 
Javier joins you by the bed and offers Lucas his pacifier. Your son stretches his arms and reaches for his father, letting out a high-pitched giggle around the pacifier. However, as he suckles gently, accompanied by your soft touch that has now moved to his chubby cheeks too, his eyelids start to grow heavy. 
When his breaths have slowed, you do whatever you can with the pillows to create a safe space for him to sleep. You create a barrier around him, ensuring as well as possible that he won’t roll over. 
“You know, you’d think that they would have set up a crib for him if they’re so desperate to see him,” you murmur bitterly as you adjust the last pillow.
“You sure you want to go back down there?” Javier asks carefully. 
“Can you grab the baby monitor?” You ignore his question at first but Javier is already handing you the monitor, ruining your attempt at not addressing the situation further. You sigh and get up from the floor, “I can get through it. If it’ll make them stop pestering me for a visit for a while.”
“I swear, one more word out of her mouth and I’ll open my own,” Javier says with anger simmering just beneath the surface. He drags you into his arms when you stand up again, hears your sigh of relief at being squeezed. It calms your nervous system so effectively that you slump. 
“Believe me, I feel like I am going insane,” you whisper into his neck and shoulder, grabbing aimlessly at his strong frame and inhaling his scent. He returns the desperate touch by simply rubbing your back in slow circles. 
“Yeah, I don’t know how you stay so calm,” he kisses your temple a few times. 
“Trust me, humans can endure a lot when they know there’s a time limit,” you chuckle humorlessly and pull away, “Let’s just do the gift exchange and leave.”
Downstairs, your parents are waiting for you by the tree. The collection of presents is sparse this year due to the short notice but you find it relieving to know that the gift exchange will be over quickly. 
Placing the baby monitor on the coffee table, you sit down on the sofa but don’t allow yourself to relax into it. Javier drops down beside you but leans back into his seat, his hand resting casually on your thigh to ground you. 
“Let’s get to the gifts. It’ll be nice to end this day on a happy note,” your mother says overly cheerfully, pretending to have forgiven and forgotten all about the situation earlier. She reaches for the first gift under the tree while your father stands ready with a bag for the wrapping paper. 
“That’s mine,” Javier tells her with a little smirk in your direction. He holds out his hand until she gives it to him, “To my beautiful wife. Merry Christmas, baby.”
“How thoughtful,” your mother mumbles and sits on the edge of her armchair. 
“Javi, I thought we weren’t on gifts this year,” you scold playfully but there’s no seriousness to your voice. You finally smile and this time it is genuine, feeling his gaze on you while you impatiently rip the wrapping. 
“I know what I said but I know you’ll love it. It’s more for Lucas anyway,” he informs you shyly. 
Inside, you find two pairs of identical fuzzy and comfortable socks with a dinosaur print on them. However, one pair fits Lucas’ tiny feet and the other fits yours. Your whole demeanor changes with the sight of your gift, your face lighting up with a bright smile, “These are so cute!”
“For your cold feet. Thought you could use something cozy while you take care of Luke at home,” he moves his hand to rest just above the small of your back, his palm smoothing over you on top of the fabric of your blouse. 
Your parents sit idly by. They stare at the gift with confusion and arrogance, clearly holding their tongue over how ridiculous they find it. Your mother picks at her fingers, “Interesting.”
“Interesting? Aren’t they adorable?” You hold the matching socks up happily, not sure what to expect but not even your mother’s judgmental expression can bring you down right now. To really rub it in, you kiss Javier’s mouth gently in front of them, “Gracias, esposo (Thank you, husband).”
But the happiness is short-lived as your father goes to get the next present from the small pile. He searches for a moment amongst the few there are, deliberately seeking out the present that you have brought them, most likely to be able to leave the room soon due to the obvious tension. He has never been one to intervene. 
“You shouldn’t have,” your mother tuts with a small smile as she carefully unwraps it in her lap, her fingers doing everything they can to not tear the paper so she can reuse it. 
When the framed picture of Lucas is revealed - a photo taken during an afternoon when he was particularly happy and smiling - her smile develops into a slightly wider one even if it looks against her will. She studies the picture with your father looking over her shoulder. 
“We thought you’d like something to remember him by,” you encourage her to say something. 
Your mother places the photo on the coffee table, her hands smoothing out the wrapping paper while she talks, “It’s lovely, sweetie. Though I’m sure we’d have more memories if we got to see him more often.”
You tense up beside Javier. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him do the same but he squeezes your hip to tell you that he is right there. Anxiously, you curl your fingers into your skirt but your mother isn’t finished.
“I just don’t understand why you’ve been so distant,” she continues, cold in her tone. “You hardly call, which would be fine but you visit even less than that, and now you’re letting Lucas sleep through his first Christmas. It’s not like you’ve gone back to work, so what is it?”
“Mom, please,” you say quietly but it doesn’t veil the wavering of your words, “I’m doing the best I can.”
“Are you?” She challenges, “Lucas has been fussing all night, hasn’t he? Maybe he’s picking up on your stress.”
You hear Javier say your mother’s name as he had during dinner, low and with warning. At the same moment, the baby monitor crackles with the sound of Lucas’ tiny complaints. The sound pulls you from your seat, your instincts to go to him overriding your desire to defend yourself from further abuse. However, your mother’s voice rings out behind you just as you take your first step.
She rolls her eyes, “Oh, just let him cry a little. You’ll make him clingy if you keep running to him every time he whimpers.”
You stop in your tracks, finally turning around to look her in the eye with your own eyes narrowed. You can see Javier watching you closely while you talk, “Mom, if he cries, he needs me.”
According to you, she has already gone too far but it seems that she cannot stop once she has started, “You know, you really should stop babying him so much. He needs to learn to self-soothe.”
Tears of frustration start to build in your chest and you can feel the muscles of your throat start to tighten as they rise to your eyes, “Jesus Christ, Mom, I’m not going to stop babying my baby.”
Her final blow comes out with a deliberate intention to hurt you, “There you go overthinking again and snapping at your mother. He is whimpering. Honestly, sometimes I wonder how Javier puts up with it. You can be such a bitch when you’re stressed.”
The room falls dead silent and the first tear escapes your eye at the cruel nickname… then a second and then a third until you start to cry silently and hopelessly. You suddenly feel like a teenager again, suffering from forced proximity. Your father opens his mouth but nothing comes out, seemingly not able to figure out how to defend his wife for once. It is the final straw for Javier.
“What did you just say?” He firmly cuts through the silence. He has gotten up from his seat and has stepped in front of you to shield you protectively from your mother’s line of sight. His nostrils flare with anger that might explode into rage at any moment but he keeps his voice steady, “You better not have said what I think you did or I am wondering why you haven’t apologized already.”
Your mother’s eyes widen at the idea of consequences. She splutters, caught off guard, “Apologize? Javier, don’t be ridiculous! I’m her mother—“
Javier laughs dangerously and condescendingly and looks away with a roll of his eyes. He shakes his head, not afraid to let the room know that he thinks she sounds pathetic without even calling her out on it. He crosses his arms over his chest, “You got a hell of a way of showing motherly love then; all you have done is tear her down today.”
“Javier,” your father tries to interject, “Let’s not make this into a scene.”
“No,” Javier turns to him, his jaw muscles flexing slightly underneath his skin with how much anger is flowing through him. The simple word makes your father sit up straighter than before - a testament to Javier’s days in Colombia - but Javier is not done, “You don’t get to lecture me about making a scene. Not after sitting there and letting this happen. She is your daughter.”
When your father has shut his mouth, looking uncomfortable by his defeat while he leans back into his seat with no intention to follow up on his words, Javier’s fury settles on your mother once more, “What’s your goal here, exactly?”
You’re aware that it isn’t just a simple few tears falling from your eyes anymore but rather a silent stream that has your face puffy and sensitive. It is accompanied by grief over your younger self not having had someone like Javier in her corner. You sniffle audibly, feeling as if you have been punched in the gut with how much it hurts and humiliates you to sit idly by. Your mother catches a glimpse of you behind your husband but it doesn’t seem to have any effect whatsoever. 
“There’s no secret agenda here, for God’s sake. I didn’t mean anything by it,” she sneers, trying to keep her demeanor straight despite the humiliation of getting called out being evident on her face. 
“Yes, you did,” Javier argues immediately and fiercely, pointing his index finger at her in an accusing manner, “You knew exactly what you were saying. You wanted her to hurt. Well congratulations, you’ve succeeded. Unfortunately, your daughter is a lot nicer than me and handled your words with a lot more grace than you deserve. I will not be doing the same thing.”
Your mother’s composure falters. She says your father’s name helplessly but he looks at her with tired eyes, full of quiet disappointment. Even if he is absent and passive like always, his refusal to intervene further is a sign that he would never go as far as his wife has just done. He shakes his head in disapproval, “Why’d you do it? We were having such a nice time too.”
She gapes at your father while his gaze drops to his lap, shrinking herself slightly at the realization that she is outnumbered and has to face your husband alone. Javier takes a step closer, radiating authority when she tries to avoid further confrontation, distaste so clear on his face for how he has lost her attention for a moment. When you let out a quiet sob, too paralyzed in your spot on the couch to go to your whimpering child, his face hardens further and he continues, “Listen to me.”
Your mother looks up reluctantly. She appears to be on the brink of an attempt to turn his words against him and argue right back once more, but Javier cuts her off before she can even start. 
“You don’t talk to her like that again. Ever. And you most certainly do not question her ability to be a mother. She is a perfect mother and God knows, she hasn’t gotten it from you. Lucas is a happy, healthy, and thriving baby because of her,” he takes a breath, and for a second, it seems like he might be done but then, “You hurt my girl, you understand that? And if you ever speak to her like that again - actually if you even speak about her like that again -  I will personally make sure you don’t get to have Lucas in your life.”
“Are you threatening us?” Her composure slips even more. 
“No, ma’am, I am instructing you,” he replies coldly, “If you can’t respect his mother, we’re done here.”
Javier turns to you now, his face softening immediately at the sight of you sitting teary-eyed on the couch with your hands clutching the baby monitor. He says your name so softly, a sound that has always felt like an unfamiliar and unwelcome sound within this house, and gently pulls the piece of technology out of your hands. 
“Listen to me, baby. Go wait in the car. I’ll get Lucas and his things,” he instructs you, placing the baby monitor on the coffee table behind him without looking away from you. He helps you to stand when you find yourself nodding. 
When you’re up from your seat, he puts a hand on the small of your back to guide you towards the door. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t let you linger in the room. 
“You don’t have to leave,” your mother protests with obvious surprise that you and Javier are carrying out the promise of consequences. She begins pushing herself to stand. 
“Sit down, I will not let you disturb any of the peace she has left,” he commands harshly when she tries to take a step toward you. 
Your mother falters, stunned by his audacity, and sinks back into her seat.
The moment you’re out of the front door, your legs start shaking so badly beneath you that you aren’t sure if you’ll even make it to the car. The walk feels endless, like climbing a mountain, the neighborhood surrounding your childhood home quiet because everyone is inside with the happy family that you never got to have growing up. 
Until now. You have it now. However, you have left them to fend for themselves on the battlefield to slide into the front seat of the car. You rub your chest as it feels tight but it soothes nothing and suddenly, the tears come harder than they had in the living room. You rest your head against the glass window, screwing your eyes shut and feeling drips of hot tears on your cheeks.
Memories come flooding and you have no power to stop them, pictures of many nights spent in solitude in your room because it was the only illusion of sanctuary in the house before you. The sound of your mother’s scoffs, her unbearable ability to make you feel small, inadequate, and unwanted. Her year-long cruelty feels like a knife in your chest but your father’s silent complicity twists its blade too, makes you think that you were never worthy of defending. 
Yet Javier had done it so effortlessly, had done what you’d wished someone would have done for you in your entire life, and he had done it without any hesitation. You are shattered by another night believing the worst about yourself, yes, but you realize that a part of your sobs comes from relief too. Suddenly, it all feels silly and you don’t know why you have always stopped Javier from speaking up for you since you met because his words - she is a perfect mother - have taken the power out of your mother’s incredibly fast. 
You hear the front door open and a shaky sob leaves you at seeing the two of your boys approach the car. Javier has the diaper bag over his shoulder whilst cradling Lucas against his chest, his face serious. He moves in long strides to get to you fast, not saying anything as he buckles Lucas’ sleeping form into his car seat before climbing into his own seat in the front. 
You sit up again, eyes still brimming with tears that streak your face. You feel overwhelmed like you have run a marathon or fought a bear or a monster. 
Javier puts on his seatbelt but doesn’t put the key in the ignition yet. He looks out of the windshield for a moment, breathes a sigh of relief. The car is quiet except for Lucas’ soft breaths as he sleeps.
Right until Javier says your name when you don’t automatically turn your head to look at him, ashamed of how the day has progressed. It is Christmas, after all, and Lucas’ first one ever too. 
“Mírame (Look at me),” he says in a gentle murmur. 
You shake your head, unable to answer with how tightly wound you are. You feel his hand under your chin, carefully pulling you by your chin until your eyes meet his. His outline is blurry from all the tears but his voice cuts through the fog in gentle firmness. 
“I love you so much, and I love our son, okay?” He says it like it is a promise, “They aren't ever gonna to talk to you like that again because I won't allow them to. Do you understand me?”
You silently look at him through your tears, nodding weakly. He reaches to brush your tears away with a knuckle. 
“Everything’s gonna be okay because you don’t have to see them if you don’t want to. You just have to let me take care of you,” he continues and cups your cheek instead, “And right now, I say you’re done with them for tonight. Actually, for as long as you fucking want.”
“I want… I don’t…” You say at first but then, “I’m sorry.”
Javier furrows his brows, “Why are you sorry?” 
“Because that’s my mom,” you try to speak around a fresh sob, “And you married me and I trapped you with my fucked up family.”
“Hey, heyheyhey,” he shakes his head, moving his other hand to cup your whole face now. He leans over the console of the car and rests his forehead against yours. When you simply cry harder, he pulls you into a hug, “You didn’t trap me, okay? You didn’t. I’m here because you make me happy. You make me so happy, baby, and Hell knows, I needed a bit of taking care of when you met me. Let me return the favor.”
His body is warm, soothing, and grounding. His embrace squeezes you hard enough to make you calm down, giving you a moment of quiet peace in your mind as you begin to take in his words. You feel the same. You want to say it but you’re afraid that you’ll never stop crying tonight, so instead you find the courage to say those words that you should have told yourself years ago, “I don’t think I want to go back.”
“What do you want to do then?” Javier pulls back to look at you. He moves back into his own seat again and starts the car to give you time to think clearly about his question. 
“Can we go to your dad’s?” You ask hesitantly. 
Javier’s brows rise slightly but he doesn’t argue, just nods as he puts the car in reverse. Before reversing out of the driveway, he pulls you in to kiss your forehead softly. 
“Claro, mi amor (Sure, my love),” he says simply, “He’d love to see us.”
.
.
If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️
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kiss-me-muchoo · 2 years ago
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𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲? || 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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part one || part two: Suddenly, we have a baby || part three: Dharma
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲- what was supposed to be a date between you and Miguel, ends up being a night to babysit Mayday. Was it enough to unleash a baby fever? 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬- nah, just fluff. clingy!reader x grumpy!Miguel + cute!Mayday, implied age gap (legal) and implied short reader (I’m 5’2, this man can ruin me), implied sex and baby talks. NO PROOFREAD!!. 𝐀/𝐍_PLEASE, listen lover and false God along this!!!!
♪ ♫ my miguel playlist. ✰ index (masterlist/ other works there)
______________
Irritant and cute giggles.
That’s all Miguel keeps hearing. He’s fixated on the screens of his office. At some point, he checks to see how his new white and red suit is doing.
But every damn time, he gets distracted by some giggles.
Until the giggles turn into strong waves of laughter, he turns, visibly annoyed.
Peter is holding Mayday, and you are seated across them and erupting into laughter once Mayday imitates some growling sounds from you and Peter.
Okay, the sight looked and sounded adorable. Mainly because it was you making the baby laugh and make funny sounds. But Miguel had work to do…
“Hey!. You three, out. You’re annoying me,” Miguel spits out. Peter, Mayday, and you turn to see the man.
“Someone’s being grumpy…” Miguel sees you exchange mocking looks with the little girl. And Peter is only there existing.
Then you stand up, and with a little jump, you’re on his floating station/desk, whatever.
He feels you tickle his rib, so he looks down on you.
You are telling him to lean down a little. So he does.
You stand on your tiptoes and smash his cheek with a kiss.
“See you at home?” You ask.
Peter nor Mayday can’t see it, but Miguel has a hand on the small of your back; his way of saying I love you, be safe. Because he couldn’t be utterly soft around the workplace.
“Say bye to the bitter man, Mayday,” you say, taking the baby from Peter’s arms.
The three of you started leaving with another long wave of laugh and chuckles.
Of course a pain in the ass for Miguel.
Later that day, a mission was successfully accomplished. Miguel had gone to a different one with Jessica, Lyla, lego Spider-man, and Spider-cat (his low-key favorite interns).
On the other hand, he was impatiently waiting for you to come back and go home together. He was in the mood to spend some time at your place.
It was your grandparent's house, and it was beyond cozy. Miguel had to admit that living on futuristic Earth was excellent. Still, even when your home could be considered as yesteryear, it was better.
However, he could not see the time to leave because he couldn’t find you anywhere.
He even started to worry something had happened.
Hobie, Gwen, Miles, Peter, and Mayday weren’t Miguel's best options for missions. But… they were your family.
“Why the pout?” Suddenly, Jess appeared at his side. Miguel ignored her and kept walking through the long hallway. Some spider people greeted him and Jess, she made brief conversations, and Miguel only sent them nods.
“I’m not pouting…” he answered finally.
“You are.”
“No.” Jess chuckled, rubbing her giant belly.
Miguel gave her a quick glance. Realizing that her coworker was heavily pregnant. It had been some rough months, especially after the events that Miles brought to everyone in the HQ. So for Jess, it must’ve been worse.
“Have you seen y/n?” He asked.
“She’s been here for some hours now. She contained the anomaly with Peter and the others” Then where the hell were you?
Suddenly, a loud noise came from the cafeteria.
Miguel and Jess exchanged some looks before walking all over the hallways that would lead them to the cafeteria.
The scene was… interesting.
Hobie was driving the spider-car, you on the passenger seat with Mayday in your arms and spider-plushie on your shoulder.
In the backseat, Miles and Gwen were laughing and looking back.
And chasing the car, Peter B. Parker tries to catch everyone with a poor running pace.
Miguel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Don’t complain. You married a younger woman…” said Jess laughing at the sight.
Soon, the car disappeared through another hallway, with Peter screaming to stop the vehicle.
“I’m not complaining. But-“ he wouldn’t say it out loud, but Miguel loved you just like you were. He wouldn’t change anything for you.
“I’m not gonna be here soon. You gotta be conscious that you’ll deal with them all alone.”
“I know…” you had a mature side that Miguel enjoyed regarding safety, health, and serious decisions. But he also loved that you remained optimistic most of the time.
And he couldn’t blame you. Back home, you had few real friends, only two girlfriends, and your family.
Both girls were shocked to learn that you were engaged less than half a decade after high school. But they were so supportive, and they accepted Miguel. Same story for your family.
Then spending time with his least favorite coworkers made you happy. So Miguel could handle the annoying moments. Just for you…
“Tell me if I’m trespassing. But… What do you do together? It’s still unbelievable that you two are married.” Miguel gives her a stern look. He doesn’t like to discuss his private (nor public) life with you, but somehow Jess wasn’t a burden of questions like Peter or Miles and Gwen.
“She likes cooking, so we either go to restaurants or cook together. Then she likes spending hours at this giant library near her place,” Jess smiles. Knowing how much you liked spending time between pages and pages.
“So you’re a pleaser. Interesting…”
“Jess…” Miguel warned her. Jessica laughed harder, giving up.
“Okay, okay, sorry. It’s just that… she seems like… the opposite of you. But it also seems like it works well.”
“It does,” he accepts, allowing himself to smile very little.
“Are you taking her on a date this weekend?”
“We haven’t been on a date since… two months?” okay, that sounded terrible for a year and a half marriage.
“Dude…” her tone indicated that it was a catastrophic event, that you and Miguel hadn’t been on a date for so long.
“What? We’re both busy. I’m in charge here; she has work to do here and college stuff. “ it wasn’t that bad. You always made time to make a decent dinner, watch movies, listen to music, and cuddle before sleeping. Miguel couldn’t complain.
“So?” Miguel knew what Jess was about to add. She would say you two didn’t have a child to care about.
And it made him question it. Did he ever see himself being a father again? No.
Would he love to see you pregnant and taking care of a baby? Yes
Would he be able to leave his trauma behind just to be happy again if you asked for a baby?… Maybe.
“I’ll just say it’s a good weekend to spend time together again. Not worrying about work is…Is a relaxed Friday.” she was right.
Maybe Miguel would take her word.
But first, he had to find you.
“Would you like to have a date?” His question popped in a way that made you feel like he was asking for the first time again.
You smile brightly, looking up at him with a slight arch on your brow.
“Yeah. I would love that,” he sighs, relieved.
“Your place. It’s better….” you knew he preferred your house. So you would not complain.
“Sure. Then let me clean today, okay?” He nodded.
Unexpectedly you hug him. Your head barely brushed his chest. And since nobody was around, Miguel hugged you back. His hands caress your head softly, touching your hair.
“I love you so much,” you admit with your eyes closed. He knows it’s obvious. Nobody would’ve stood him for so long, even before marriage.
“Me too, bonita,” he replies calmly.
There’s a characteristic pull you do in his rib every time you ask for a kiss.
So he leans again, but there’s time for a long deep kiss this time.
It’s impossible to not miss your body too.
Memories that shouldn’t appear, assault him at that moment.
Honestly, he can’t wait to have you the next night. You never deny him a good time in bed. And Miguel can’t help but be surprised that a small body like yours has long-lasting stamina.
Except when the weather it’s too hot and your low blood pressure can’t take it.
Other than that, you were so determined to take him and endure anything he decided to give you.
Another big reason to love you.
He’s still kissing you. And he can sense how your body temperature increases. He doesn’t have spider sense but swears he can hear your throbs and pulses around nothing.
A cold shower, that’s what he’s gonna need.
“So.. See you tomorrow, amor.” You say one last time. He lets you go and can’t wait for the next day.
Yeah, even when he sees you every day, no matter what.
Because he’s beyond in love with you.
As you walk towards your little office, you encounter Peter and Mayday.
“Hey!. You two are still here,” they turned, giving you a big smile.
“Yeah, Mayday can’t leave without a warm bottle of milk from here” You wondered what could make the milk from the HQ something special for Mayday. Maybe it was the mascarpone flavor….
“I want to leave early because this girl needs a bath before tomorrow….” you frown, confused. There’s a lot of trust and a great friendship with the man, even when he is older than Miguel and you. And as much as your husband liked to remark that Peter wasn’t a friend, the truth was obvious.
“What’s gonna happen tomorrow?…”
“I’m having a date with MJ, and we hope her mother can take care of Mayday. Cause if she can’t… maybe we won’t be able to- “
“Miguel and I can take care of her…” you suggest immediately.
“Really? That would be great. But… What about…?”
“Miguel? You know him…He secretly likes Mayday,” you respond.
But then you remember you were supposed to have a date with your husband. You haven’t had an entire day with him outside of work. And he hadn’t fucked you since two weeks ago.
But Mayday couldn’t be such a bother…Right? Like, look at that cute face and baby carrot hairs.
“Well, in that case…Do I bring her?” You nod, completely forgetting about Miguel and what could be his reaction.
“Sure. You know my place, right?” Peter had been there several times before you and Miguel got married.
“Yeah. So… at 7:00 pm? I would pick her up before midnight.”
“It’s fine. Right, baby?” Mayday giggles and keeps drinking from her little bottle.
“Alright then… see you tomorrow” You wave goodbye to the duo and go home.
It won’t be that bad.
____
Miguel opens the door of your house, and the first thing he hears is soft music playing.
My heart's been borrowed, and yours has been blue
All's well that ends well to end up with you
Swear to be overdramatic and true to my… LOVER!!!!.
You are singing between giggles and pauses.
Okay, he knows the song. He knows you dedicate that whole album to him every time you play it.
And when he enters the kitchen, he wants to pinch his arm to confirm he’s not dreaming.
You are cooking something on the little island: a baby pink dress, red cardigan, hair in a braid.
One hand is stirring something, and the other is… carrying Mayday?
“Oh. Hey, babe!” You greet him, running to give him a peck on the lips.
“Uh…What’s going on?” He asks, pointing at the baby in your arm.
“We’re babysitting her!” Mayday is super concentrated on a piece of watermelon you gave her, chewing and making a mess of her onesie.
“This was supposed to be a date…” he doesn’t want to ruin the mood. But he was expecting some time alone with his wife.
“It is… Peter will pick her up before midnight. We never go to sleep before 2:00am, amor.”
“Great. I have to deal with Peter even on my free day,” you laugh at his exaggerated reaction.
“Oh, don’t be like that. Mayday is a burst of sunshine; she will not trouble us.” When Miguel turns back to see you, the baby is gone from your arms. She’s climbing your kitchen drawers. Your husband instantly panics when he sees Mayday could fall into the boiling water at any moment.
“You have to look after her,” he says to you, eyes switching from you to the baby.
“I’m looking at her…”
“No. You’re looking at the recipe for…mushroom soup?” Mayday trembles, and Miguel runs to basically catch her. But you make a movement that shoots out two webs, making a little swing for her. She coos and laughs happily.
“See? I got her….” you say proudly.
Miguel had to accept you were good at taking care of kids. Making him question it further if he was ready to pop in the question; Do you want a baby?
“Could you two pick a movie? I left some options on the couch” Miguel looks at Mayday, who seems to understand that you need something from her, so stretches her arms to Miguel, asking him to pick her up.
“She’s asking you to lift her, babe.”
He rolls his eyes, and with a grumpy attitude, he picks Mayday in his arms.
You take a mental screenshot of the image. And your baby's fever escalates even more. Only that you swore to not bring up the issue. Because you weren’t ready to find out if Miguel was prepared to try for a baby again.
Miguel and Mayday, they both look at the pair of movies you have out.
All are for kids, but he can easily look at any of those because he would be with you.
And probably would not pay attention.
“Which one do you want?” He asks the girl. She looks at the movies again and points at the pirates and fairies one.
“Good choice,” your husband lets out. Mayday only giggles.
Well, Miguel couldn’t sit next to you.
Because Mayday was in the middle. You made her some tofu nuggets with vegetables because you were an almond babysitter. Also cause Peter said Mayday needed to eat more greens.
She happily looked at the movie while she had the plate before her.
Then you and Miguel had mushroom soup with warm bread and salad.
He never failed to flatter your food; never.
You can feel he’s praying for Mayday to fall asleep.
He has some big fuck me eyes, actually begging.
You can’t help but smile and giggle as he rolls his eyes.
For another twenty minutes, the movie continues. But soon, Mayday climbs Miguel and starts resting on his chest, and no more than a minute later, she’s fast asleep.
Both of you are in shock. He doesn’t even know where to place his hands.
Until you stand to place his hands in the right place, one on her head and the other on her back.
Miguel looks astronomically big with the baby in his arms. And once again, you look with a giant pair of heart eyes.
Your head is screaming; give me a baby, please!!!!!!
However, you and Miguel only stare at each other, probably thinking and wanting to say the same.
“I’ll put her on your bed” You nod, thanking him as his broad figure disappears from the living room.
You take the dishes to the kitchen and clean them.
There’s a long pause after drying your hands with a flower towel. You stare vaguely at your window, looking through the flowers Miguel gave you when he arrived.
You can’t ask him, but you want so badly. He’s your husband, your lover. You should be able to ask him, cause you to talk with him about everything and anything.
When you go back to the living room, Miguel is there. The tv is off, and the whole room is in complete darkness except for your window. Which led some light to enter through the curtains.
You look at him; he’s seated on the couch.
Your mouth opens and closes. Because you can’t find the words.
“Do you want a baby?” He asks. It’s sudden, unexpected, and shocking.
“I-…” You are frozen. His eyes had never been so intimidating. Yet, the love you feel when you come closer to sit beside him is more immense.
“I do, but-“Then you think about him. His past, trauma, and sequels he could have.
“I think I’m ready to move forward,” he can make you feel shocked again.
He’s making an effort… Why ruin it?
“You are?…” you ask, taking his hand. He caressed your knuckles, softening the moment.
“Yes. Since some months ago… I’ve seen you the kid, and I want that,” he leans into your touch. The way you caress his cheeks invites him to stay there forever.
“So…Wanna try?” You’ve never been on the pill or anything; just pure luck. Maybe it turned out for the best.
“Yes…” somehow the moment is awkward. But in a cute way because neither of you knows where to start.
“Is the kid completely asleep?” you chuckle on his lips. So you’re trying earlier…
“Completely passed out. Don’t worry, amor. I’ll be quiet” he spreads his big thighs when you straddle him on the couch. Your weight is incredibly relaxing for him, so he cherishes every moment.
“Bonita…You’re never quiet” his comment makes you blush. Miguel loved the power he had to make you feel like a teenager in love yet. And it wasn’t because of the age gap. It was simply the way you were.
“Yes, I’ll be. Promise…”
You weren’t quiet. But at least Mayday snored.
Peter is greeted by a sweaty Miguel, and you are all disheveled. His face turns into a grin, a disgusted one. He doesn’t even say hi to Miguel; he just steps into your house.
“You two had-“
“NO!” You deny it immediately, drinking a water bottle, ignoring your friend’s judgmental gaze.
“Yes,” Miguel admits with his usual stoic presence.
“MAN..why?” Peter asks in disbelief. Your blush can’t help but increase until you look like a swollen tomato.
“Guess my baby set the alarms of a baby fever…huh?” Even Miguel wants to laugh but does his best to stand still.
“Yeah, okay. Maybe…” you admit laughing nervously.
Miguel disappears to bring the baby, leaving you and Peter alone.
“So, how was the date?”
“So… How was the tango session?” He starts laughing.
“PETER!” You nudge his arm, joining his chuckles.
“Nah, the date was amazing. Oh, how much I love my wife,” he hears your prolonged aww. Then Miguel appears with a happy Mayday again.
“You woke her?” Peter asks, taking his daughter.
“No. She was awake already.” Your husband replies.
“You know? You two will be good at this” You can’t help but smile widely. You hug your friend quickly before saying bye to Mayday, and a second later…It’s just you and him again.
“This turned… good,” Miguel admits.
“He’s right?”
“What?”
“Peter. He’s right; we’ll be good at this” Finally, you see him smile. A genuine smile that is only reserved for you.
“Promise me that we’ll be careful. That we are going to try so hard to keep it going?” He pleads suddenly. Looking down at you with a slight pout.
“Oh, Miguel. I can’t assure you everything will be perfect. But I’ll do my best for us and upcoming additions. I promise,” he nods, pressing his forehead against you.
And again, it’s all kisses and slow heavy breathings.
“I wanna keep trying….” you reveal between kisses. He smiles; you can feel it. No matter what, he would always have you, but… he would try for that baby.
“I think we’re gonna stay up past bedtime,” you giggle, stretching again to feel his warm lips.
Impatient to feel them all across your body.
But little did you know, you had already been hosting a baby for the past three months.
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lilia-calderus-pet-goat · 3 months ago
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In case you forgot just how impressive the acting is in episode seven of agatha all along, let me take you back again.
Lilia is five hundred years old. Four hundred and fifty? Maybe. When we first meet her, she may be kooky, and she may be strange, and forgetful, but she doesn't immediately seem vulnerable, or lost. She's a grown woman, damn it—and a fraud, a liar. She's toughened with the passage of time in her unique isolation.
And in the next episodes, we see her sweeten here and there—and we see more vulnerable moments—but she still stands on her own two legs. In her dynamic with Rio, for example, or whoever else, she exhibits the 'no bullshit' attitude of her maestra. She's softer, of course, more empathetic, less cynical—like in Alice's trial, where she's posed much like s comforting grandma. But even then, she is a grandma. She is the one who does the comforting, or the one who disapprovingly shakes her head at you and judges your life choices.
But when she talks to her Maestra?
Lilia is a little girl. She's childish.
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In no other scenario does Lilia speak with herself center-stage. She always thinks of others first, even in her own trial.
But when she talks to her maestra, she acts like a wounded child, a wounded fawn, who can only focus on her own pain. Who has not yet developed mechanisms for processing her emotions—and who just wants—needs—her mother. And she speaks, and she says things she shouldn't say, floods her maestra with her own grief, overwhelms her with information that Lilia has known as fact for hundreds of years, but for her maestra—it's her first time hearing it. Because the little Lilia on the chair is having her first divination lesson. She hasn't predicted the fever yet. But Lilia can't think of that right now—she's overwhelmed, she's hurting, she's visiting her maternal figure after centuries—and so she's snappy and impatient and vulnerable like a child.
And her maestra knows she can't help it. And she knows that right now, she's needed by her child who is hurting. Who has been hurting—so much fear, even now. She must swallow the shocking piece of information that she and her covenmates, her sisters, her students, her children, will be wiped out by a terrible fever—treat it like a given fact, because she's not the focus right now. Because she needs to be a guiding light for Lilia, even centuries later, because she needs her. Centuries later, she needs her. And she's a tough woman, a no-bullshit woman. She's a thick-skinned, old, Sicilian witch, much reminiscent of my own greek grandparents—those who have lived through so much and so nothing affects them, really. Because 'back in their day' they had 'more serious issues,' like war and famine and plague. This woman lived through the dark ages. And she delivers. She's nonchalant. 'Death comes for us all' - It means, this isn't about me. I have to brush it off.
But I still have to wonder where within her she proceeded to bury that piece of information about her own coven's untimely demise. Not only to focus on future Lilia, but also, later, to keep little Lilia calm and focused. To—knowing all the suffering she'll be going through and the state in which she'll visit centuries later—keep her innocent for just a little time longer. Give her time. Until eventually, she predicts the fever herself.
And how beautiful is it that, after all this time, she sought help in her maestra—?
How beautiful is it that—for the second time—Agatha Harkness is saved by a woman whose empathy was bred by a mother's unconditional love? A woman who sacrificed herself just when she found herself, for no other reason than the fact her mother never stopped putting her first, so now, it was her turn to do the the same for her family—?
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bowsellie · 1 month ago
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say it once again with feeling
i’ll forget you, but i’ll never forgive
warnings/info: smut (mdni) face sitting pussy eating scissoring all the goods, top!ellie bottom!r
angst, can be read as either ellie x reader or ellie x dina depending on your vibe, canon compliant, post-canon, mentions of unhealed/poorly healed injuries, alcohol, mentions of grief, reader has a child (jj durr) who is not actually present just mentioned I think that’s all :3
Been big into reading angst lately so here
You can only mourn someone for so long, you believed. Their memory would always be with you, yes, but the despair and pain and missing would have to be replaced with something better eventually. If you let it consume you, you couldn’t live on yourself.
This was a lot more difficult to stick to, however, when the person you were mourning may not actually be dead.
Since the night Ellie left, you forced yourself to imagine that she wouldn’t come back. You had to, or else you would hold out hope. And with that hope came a forgiveness you couldn’t afford to give. Nobody gets to ruin your life and leave you alone with a child you felt barely old enough to care for, not even the love of your life. So you imagined her dead—torn apart by clickers, by Abby, by her own refusal to care for herself—and convinced yourself to mourn her death and not her leaving. It felt easier that way.
Since packing up your belongings and your baby and your sheep and moving back to Jackson, you had to constantly remind yourself to not look around each room for her. To not expect her to walk through the door. To not hope that she was alive, and worse, here.
It was a hard habit to break, and your head still perked up every time the door to the Tipsy Bison opened. Especially after a few drinks, like the Friday night you sat at the bar downing tequila shot after tequila shot. JJ was with his grandparents for the weekend and you needed something to fill the silence in the small house you shared with him, something burning.
You must have had too much to drink tonight, because you looked up at the next door creak and swore you actually saw her.
Blinking once, twice, looking away then looking back, the apparition didn’t disappear. In fact, it met its green eyes with yours and began to approach. Her hair was shorter and shittily chopped, her face was scabbed in multiple new places, and her gait was limping as the Ellie-like figure came closer and seemed to becoming more realistic. She sat down in the empty barstool next to you, grunting with the effort but otherwise saying nothing. You, still looking away and back as if to clear your vision, muttered a slurred “holy shit”.
“I was hoping you’d be here,” she said. Her voice was rougher than you remembered, like she hadn’t used it in weeks or had been screaming until the cords fried.
“Holy shit,” you responded.
“I need…we need to talk,” Ellie said, not quite looking at you. She played with her hands, ghosting the fingers of her right hand over an empty spot where her left hand should mirror.
You breathed in sharply, noticing the absence. “Holy shit.”
“Can I take you home?”
The delay in your brain finally caught up to the situation, a million possible words and responses stumbling over themselves until you could say something—anything—that made sense.
“Fuck. No.” You pushed the empty shot glass to rest on top of the plastic part of the bar farther from you and stood up hastily, catching yourself on the barstool as alcohol rushed to your head and made you stumble.
Ellie matched in urgency and elegance, stumbling herself from whatever was affecting her walk on the way in. “Please. I fucked up, so bad, I at least need to say it.”
“You said it,” you snapped back, shoving your way to the door, “now go away and leave me alone.”
“You’re pissed, you should be. I fucked up so bad. Please, let me, I don’t know,” she rambled, trailing behind you.
You shoved the doors open, not caring to hold them on your way out despite Ellie following close behind.
“Please,” she said, again, her voice breaking.
You whipped around to face her. “Please what, Ellie? You’re dead to me. Literally. I can’t—I didn’t—I had to—you’re not. This isn’t a possibility for me. You’re supposed to be dead.”
“But I’m not.”
“But you are. You have been for the last however many months. You don’t get to come here and tell me how you killed Abby and got your fucking revenge and can actually care about me instead of letting me be the second most important person to you. You don’t get to make me forgive you for ruining my life. You ruined my fucking life! You left me, mourning everyone who ever meant fucking anything to me, with a fucking CHILD, and if I don’t believe you’re dead then I have to hate you. I fucking hate you. I fucking HATE you, Ellie!”
Somewhere you had begun to cry, hard and hot and wet. The tears choked you as they rain down your face, and you half hunched over as your stomach clenched with the devastating waves of emotion you were feeling. It was like reliving everything all over again.
And still, she looked at you with her green eyes and the line between her eyebrows that you knew like your own face.
“I’m so, so sorry.”
“Yeah. You should be,” you choked out. Forcing yourself to stand and taking hyperventilating breaths, you turned and started to walk home.
“At least let me make sure you get home safe. Please. We don’t need to talk about it, I just…I’m sorry. Please,” Ellie said. Her own voice was thicker now, the words barely rasping out.
You shook your head, but didn’t turn her away when she began walking with you. You made your way home nearly in silence, except for the crunch of two pairs of shoes and your gasps between tears that wouldn’t stop.
When you approached the porch of the apartments you were living in, you turned to Ellie. You couldn’t get rid of her soon enough. And yet, having her presence with you when you’d adjusted to never feeling it again…you couldn’t let it go yet.
You walked up the porch, fumbling with your keys from your pocket and unlocking the door after a few attempts. You pushed open the door, and turned back to the pitiful looking girl behind you. Everything you felt, minus the anger, was mirrored on her face. Sadness, longing, and a love that had been forced away.
“Come in, then. I don’t fucking care,” you said, holding the door for her.
Ellie scurried in, quickly removing her shoes at the door. Like she remembered you’d liked. Like she used to always do.
“Please don’t tell me those are the same goddamn converse you left in,” you said, scrunching your nose and she tucked in the laces.
“Not a lot of shoe stores in California, turns out,” Ellie said with something like a laugh. “I can stick them outside, if you want.”
You shook your head, removing your own shoes before heading up the creaky stairs. Ellie lingered at the bottom.
“There’s a toy on the left halfway up. Don’t trip on it,” you said, not turning around. Her footsteps began to follow yours.
In your bedroom, you began to get ready for bed. Ellie stood, watching, so still it was like she was afraid to move. Maybe she was, you thought. Maybe the delicacy you felt in the air was so tangible she was afraid to break it.
Finally, she breathed and spoke. “What do you—“
You cut her off quickly, looking in her eyes for the first time since coming into your house. One that, until now, had been free of her memory.
“Spend the night. Please. I can’t say goodbye to you again just,” you swallowed heavily, “just yet.”
Ellie nodded, soundlessly, and the both of you got into varying states of undress before turning off the lights and crawling into bed.
You turned your body, resting your head on her chest and breathing deeply. She stunk of outside, in a way that only Ellie could make you like. Her arm curled tentatively around your shoulders.
“Where’s JJ?” she whispered.
“With Jesse’s parents. They watch him every few weekends. They’ve really helped a lot,” you responded, just as quietly.
“How is he?”
You smiled despite yourself. “Good. He knows a few words. He walks, mostly.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I mean, he’s really shitty at it so far—“
Ellie interrupted your sentence with a snort, causing you to giggle back. You twisted so you could see her face, and before you had time to reconsider, kissed her deeply.
She didn’t hesitate to kiss you back. For months, almost a year, you hadn’t been kissed this way. Like she needed you to breathe, like you needed her to live. Her hands fell to your hips, gripping until you felt fingertip shaped indents beginning to form.
“Ellie, ouch,” you breathed into her mouth, and she loosened her grip slightly. You were once again reminded of the missing digits, feeling their absence on your right side.
“Sorry. I need to feel that you’re real,” she said, kissing you again. Her hands stayed obediently on your hips, your waist, the proper places for them to be. But you needed more. Goddamn it, if you were going to indulge the fantasy of Ellie being back, you needed to indulge completely.
Breaking the kiss, you grabbed her hands and moved them down and back to grab your ass.
“Are you sure?” she asked, squeezing tentatively.
You nodded. “Please, Ellie. Don’t make me question it. Fuck me.”
She leaned up to kiss you again, more fervently than before as her hands kneaded your ass. Her hands began to move up, underneath your tshirt to cup your breasts, eliciting a sharp breath.
Ellie’s mouth opened again, likely to ask you if that was alright, but you silenced her with a kiss. The truth is, you didn’t know if it was alright. But you wanted it to be.
She flipped you over, moving low to remove your panties and bury her face in between your legs. She wasted no time licking thick stripes over your hole to your clit, dipping her tongue inside before moving it back upwards to flick the sensitive bud.
Ellie’s left hand snaked up to join her mouth, but she froze for a fraction of a second when nothing met your folds. Instead, she shoved the offending hand back underneath her body and brought up the right hand to slip in one, then two fingers.
It was less adept than it used to be, you thought. She wasn’t used to using this hand.
For what felt like hours, Ellie ate you out ravenously and without tiring. You squirmed, moaned, and pulled her hair, chasing an orgasm that kept seeming to run away at the last moment. After the third or fourth time of this, Ellie lifted her head away.
“Are you okay?” she asked softly.
You nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I’m just thinking a lot. Can I sit on your face instead?”
She nodded quickly, adjusting her body to lay in between the pillows as you positioned yourself on top of her. Sinking onto her open mouth, you ground down onto her waiting tongue. The change in position was exactly what you needed, and with Ellie’s tongue flicking over your clit, you felt the blood began to pool below your naval as your core tightened.
“Fuck. Please don’t stop. Please, just like that,” you gasped out. Ellie moaned in acknowledgement against you, the vibrations causing your orgasm to go crashing down. Your body convulsed on top of her, while her arms hooked around your thighs to hold you mostly in place. She gave three more long licks, causing you to twitch in overstimulation before swinging a leg over her and settling to lay down.
Ellie rolled over, using both arms to hold herself above your body as she kissed you. The heady taste of your own wet combined with the warm softness of her mouth had you spreading your legs once more, almost imperceptibly rolling your hips upward to ask for more.
Ellie smiled at you, in the way that always made you melt, and your stomach twisted. It would be so easy to fall in love with her again, you thought. To forgive her, to pretend it never happened.
She lifted off her sweatshirt and dirty tank top, revealing an angry red scar around her abdomen that was almost definitely infected. She slid out of her own underwear, looking at you for confirmation as she slid her legs over yours and slotted her pussy against your own.
In tandem, you both moaned as your hips began to move messily towards each other. The effect of your last orgasm combined with the twisting of your stomach at having Ellie here, right now, and before you knew it you were crying. Above you, Ellie sniffled. She was crying too.
Your motions against each other became more and more frantic as Ellie reached her orgasm above you. Nearly sobbing now, the pulsing of her pussy pushed you over the top into your own. Your moans grew louder and more incomprehensible, until the only thing you could shout was “I hate you. I hate you. I fucking hate you.”
Ellie collapsed on top of you, both of you crying and sweaty. You didn’t kiss again. Like sweet nothings in her ear, you continued to mutter. “I hate you, I hate you, I fucking hate you.”
Ellie peeled her body off of yours, reclothing herself and throwing a blanket over your shaking body.
“I hate you,” you whispered.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered back.
And for the second time in your life, Ellie walked out the door.
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fictionalmenobsessor · 9 months ago
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RULES ─ MASTERLIST ─ REQ BOX
CW: !!!NSFW MDNI!!!, afab reader, cowgirl, bulge kink, breeding kink, baby trapping.
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this is part 2, to part one 😘
song for the chapter: Leave Me Lonely - Ariana Grande
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ex-husband?!Simon, who eventually convinces you to let him come inside to talk once he finds out that your daughter isn’t home, and is actually at her grandparents for the night.
ex-husband?!Simon, who listens to all of your concerns when you are on the couch together; holding your hand in his with devoted eyes, thinking to himself that you were as beautiful as the day he lost you, possibly even more so.
ex-husband?!Simon, who rubs his thumb up and down the back of your palm trying to soothe you as you choke up into tears.
ex-husband?!Simon, who brings you into his lap, engulfing you in a hug with his big burly arms. stroking your hair as you sobbed into his shoulder, letting all of the pain you’ve accumulated wash over you in one fell swoop.
ex-husband?!Simon, who brings your head back so you can see him after you’ve calmed down. wiping away the tears and snot on your face, before giving you a kiss on the forehead.
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ex-husband?!Simon, who presses back when you suddenly kiss him, cupping both sides of your face with his calloused hands; tugging down on your lip with his teeth to force his tongue through.
ex-husband?!Simon, who ran his hands up and down your body, before landing on your hips. gently squeezing the soft, plush fat surrounding them as he brought you higher up on his lap.
ex-husband?!Simon, who lets out a string of groans as you start to rock your hips over the growing bulge beneath your thinly clothed cunt; slick and throbbing, you try to soothe the increasingly hot ache between your thighs.
ex-husband?!Simon, who hikes up the lacy hem of your nightdress, and roughly tugs aside your panties, like they shouldn’t have been there in the first place.
ex-husband?!Simon, who glides the pad of his thumb over the pearly nub on your clit, going in motions that has you writhing and begging for him to at least use one finger against your velvet walls.
ex-husband?!Simon, who eventually gives in, gliding his ring finger into your sopping cunt, watching the way your juices collected on the silver band.
ex-husband?!Simon, who pulled out his digit before you reached your impending orgasm, because according to him:
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“The only thing that you’re going to be coming on is my cock. Okay, sweetheart?”
You fumbled with his belt buckle, your mind still fogged from the rejection of what you desperately craved. No needed.
He lifted his hips so you could tug down his jeans and boxers. His strained cock hit his lower abdomen, angry red tip leaking with beads of pre-cum.
With your panties still pushed to the side haphazardly, you grab ahold of Simon’s broad shoulders for stability; watching as he grabs his thick, leaky cock and align himself with your entrance.
Slowly sinking down, you fold your bottom lip into your mouth to force back a moan, teeth digging into the flesh severely. As much as you loved. Love? No. Loved, Simon, you couldn’t let him know that he still had an effect on you after all this time.
After a few moments of adjusting to his size, pussy fluttering around him to accommodate his size you started to roll your hips, gathering a rhythm that left you both short for air.
Gaining a bit more confidence, you bounce up and down on his cock. Simon’s dick hitting the gummy bundle of nerves tucked away inside you that made your toes curl; thighs trembling as your orgasm attempts to wash over you.
A deep, desperate groan echoed through your ears, “Fuck." He panted, pawing at your ass, "I've missed this pretty pussy so much. And I bet she's missed me too, yeah?"
Nodding your head feverously, you tried to focus on the euphoria you were about to experience in the horizon. Just as you were teetering on the edge, he must've felt a change; grabbing your hips, he flipped you over, denying your orgasm once more.
"You fucking asshole!" You seethed, hitting him on the chest.
"Don't." He snatched your wrists, flashing you a harsh glare. "Now you're going to behave and come on my cock when I tell you to, because I can stop all of this in a heartbeat."
In all honesty, you would’ve done anything for him. With a small nod of your head, he hoisted your legs over his shoulders, burying his throbbing cock deeper into your velvet walls; desperate with the need to come, he clenched his jaw and started his onslaught. He wasn't done with you; not yet.
Pursuing fuller strokes, he looked down at your lower abdomen, waiting to see the bump of his tip on the outside of your precious, fertile, vacant womb.
Your jaw slacked from being stuffed full of his cock. A distorted whine clawed up your throat as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
“Good girl, you’re takin’ my cock s’well.” He smirked, now looking back up at you, and driving his hips faster. Your heels dug into his shoulders, pussy clenching him like a vice.
“Please, Si.” You whispered, clinging onto his chest like you clung onto your destined euphoria.
“Please wha’?” He mocked, looking down at you condescendingly; mixing his strokes with either quick and short jabs, or long and heavy thrusts. Only because he wanted to be an asshole and make you choke on your words as you tried to answer him.
You tried to form sentences, you really did, but it only came out as incomprehensible garble.
Pulling yourself together, you forced out, “Please let me cum, Si.”
“It’s cute y’think y’had a choice.” He teased. His pelvis snapped up faster, turning the coil in your stomach faster in doing so.
"Please, Si. I-" You cut yourself by an annoyed whine; not wanting to hold on any longer, and release the overstimulation consuming your body, "-I can't anymore."
"S’okay." He mumbled, stroking a piece of hair out of your face, looking into your teary, glistening cockdrunk eyes. “Cum aroun’ my cock jus’ like that. I’ve got you.”
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ex-husband?!Simon, who promises to pump your pussy full of his milky seed; fucking it inside your womb over, and over again, to ensure you’re round with all of his future kids.
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please don’t be too harsh this is my first time writing smut which is why it took so long to post 😔
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strawberrymitsuriii · 5 months ago
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Rules
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The mountains have many rules. But out of all of them, five are the most important.
Mitsuri x fem Reader x Obanai
Words: 5.3k
Tw: Dark content, yandere monsters, monster fucking?, dubcon, squirting, fingering, smut, submissive obanai! Kinda don ish mitsuri?, uhhh also shitty smut kinda.
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The mountains have many rules.
Of course, to keep the locals and tourists safe when living/visiting here. You remember when you and your parents first visited your grandparents up here in the mountains. Your grandparents made sure your parents told you beforehand about all the rules you had to follow for your stay.
Rule number one: Don’t be/go outside after the sun sets. That’s when they come out.
Rule number two: Don’t whistle once it’s dark. It attracts them.
Rule number three: You don’t see/hear anything. You ignore it and go on about your day.
Rule number four: Always keep your doors and windows locked. Don't let them in, even if they are outside begging to be let in. Don’t. They aren’t what they seem.
And the last and most important rule
Rule number five: If you hear your name being called. Don’t. Respond. Back. It’s not who you think it might be. Ignore it and don’t entertain it. If you want to see the light of day again.
Easy five rules to follow, right?
You always made sure to follow those five simple rules. Growing scared from all the stories the locals will tell little 6 year old you. Your parents also told you to be careful. That yes the woods are pretty, but they aren’t safe.
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You haven’t seen your grandparents since you were 16. It’s been a long 8 years since then. You and your parents stopped visiting them after work has been catching up to them and you being busy with school. Of course you did call in occasionally and asked how they were doing and if they have been keeping themselves safe and healthy. Not wanting to grow distant with them since you love your grandparents very much.
But after a while, the calls slowly stopped coming in. Life is getting too busy for you and your parents.
It wasn't until a week ago when your aunt called and dropped the horrible news.
Your grandparents have passed away
You remember the feeling of time stopping right then and there. The cries of your mother going muffled as you just stood there.
The funeral wasn’t any better. Everyone was crying and screaming in agony. Your father was next to your weeping mother trying to comfort her as she cried for her parents. You couldn’t do anything but just stand there. Feeling useless.
The moment you got home you quickly ran to your room. That’s when finally all the tears and pain came out. You cried yourself to sleep that night.
-
Your grandparents left the house to you. Their only granddaughter. Before they died, it was already planned out the day you were born that if anything were to happen to them or if they would die. The house will belong to you.
And the house
Oh the house is beautiful
Think about those beautiful old Victorian homes from the 1800s. That’s the beautiful home your grandparents left for you.
And they knew you loved the area. Besides all the rules and weird things that roam the place. You loved it.
So here you are. In front of the house. With your parents standing behind you.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay? We can stay here with you for a few days”
“I’m going to be okay mom. Don’t worry about me”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes dad. I’m 24 years old, I’m pretty sure I can handle myself just fine” You could tell that didn’t help at all and maybe made it a little more ... .worse?
“Okay….make sure you keep the doors and windows locked! A-a-and to not let anyone in okay?!”
“And no staying outside after the sun sets! You never-“
“Never know what can be lurking in those woods yeah yeah I got it” Your mom sighs before she gives you a kiss on your forehead.
“Okay. Stay safe and take care. Me and your father will check in on you in a few weeks, Kay?”
“Mhm”
After 10 long minutes, they left with a goodbye and now you were left alone. You noticed that the sun will begin to set soon so you called it a day and quickly rushed inside.
The house still looked the same. Same wallpaper and furniture. Your grandparents wanted all their old furniture that they bought/collected over the years to stay with the house. To stay with you.
And you didn’t have a problem with that. In fact, you're grateful they left you with all their old furniture. In this economy, a couch will probably cost the same as your rent-.
Literally
You head back upstairs and decide to buy groceries tomorrow morning.
-
“So, how is it so far?” Your friend eagerly asks.
“It’s not bad. Peaceful actually”
“Mm is that so? Those mountains give me the creeps!” You chuckle as you continue making your breakfast.
“Yeah trust me, I was afraid when I first visited this place. But as long as you follow the rules, your pretty much safe”
“Jeez, don’t know how you do it”
Today you already have a little something planned out for the day. For example, after breakfast you’ll go to the local market for groceries. After that you’ll go visit some old spots that your grandparents used to take you to during your summers and after that you’ll be home!
Simple small plans
“Yeah well for starters, I basically grew up here. And my grandparents were very overprotective of me when I would visit here”
“Well then maybe I should go up there and visit you! You’ll protect me from those things right?” You giggle as you answer her question.
“Of course I will”
“Good. Well I’ll talk to you later! I have a shit ton of stuff to do today” She sighs and you can tell she’s slumped over her kitchen counter right now.
“Well I’ll let you go now. But you better come visit once you're free!”
“You bet I am!” You said your goodbyes before hanging up.
The weather was perfect today for the small things you planned out. You made your plate and sat down at the nice dining table. You scrolled through your phone bored out of your mind as you ate the food you made.
You scrolled through pictures and videos of family, friends, or even random people before coming across an article from the town’s official account.
Two teenagers were found mutilated in the woods today earlier this morning. The two teens were reported missing on September 3rd at 9:46 pm by their parents after the teens failed to arrive home on time.
The teens were found today on September 16 at 7:23 am, two weeks after their disappearance. Local sheriffs said that they received a call from a tourist who had the misfortune to stumble upon the dead bodies of the two teens.
“Jesus” You mutter as you frown.
You always knew stuff like this happens. People not taking the rules seriously and being outside way past curfew and BOOM. Next day found dead.
You won’t lie, but you still get chills knowing that you aren’t the only one’s living here. The creatures that lurk in these mountains aren’t friendly to anyone.
Not even animals are safe as you remember stumbling upon multiple dead corpses of the unfortunate growing up.
Those things are vicious, vile creatures with zero mercy.
The words your grandmother used to tell you before reading you a bedtime story.
And she’s right. Those things show no mercy.
To those unfortunate souls that stumble upon those creatures. May they rest in eternal peace.
-
It’s been a couple weeks since you officially moved in. Life is peaceful living here. And you finally adjusted to life here!
Anyways, you were currently watching some of your favorite movies from childhood while you snacked on a bag of your favorite chips. Your parents left an hour ago after they came to check up on you. You three spent good quality time together before they had to leave for the long drive home.
You never knew living in a quiet area would be great. No more honking of cars or the screaming of people outside!
Just peace and quiet
You quietly munch on your chips as you continue watching the movie. Unaware of the eyes that were currently watching you.
No
It wasn’t in front of your window
It was behind the trees from outside
You continue eating before you frown as you hear a small click.
You ignored it at first, but then you heard the sound of a nail tapping against your window.
That’s when you completely froze
NOPE!
You quickly turned off the tv before grabbing your chips and phone and booking it upstairs to your room.
You locked your bedroom door and checked to see if your window was locked. Once you made sure everything was locked you quickly got into bed and left your chips on your night stand.
Definitely not tonight
You soon fell asleep all the while ignoring the strange noises coming from outside in the pitch dark woods.
1/5
-
People have said that the land was hunted. Curse from the Gods after humans yet again began to be greedy and cruel.
Others have said that the creatures that lurk are aliens or other creatures from space. They mysteriously appeared here one day and decided to claim the land as their home.
And others have said that those things used to be people. People who deceived the Gods and as punishment were turned into disgusting vile creatures who now live here in the mountains.
Anyways, there were a lot of rumors surrounding this place and how it came to be.
But even after all that. The land and mountains are beautiful. The most breathtaking place you can ever step foot in.
But people tend to forget about that when the stories and sightings of those creatures go around and get more attention than the beautiful small town itself.
Besides, the history of this town truly is a mystery
-
“Shit” your eyes kept going back and forth to the watch on your wrist and to the road.
Today you drove out to the city to meet up with your friends to go eat at a very popular restaurant after not seeing each other in a while. After eating, one of your friends suggested hitting up a local bar to just chill and have fun. Obviously you all agreed and went.
But unfortunately for you, you didn’t keep track of time and by the time you noticed, it was starting to get pretty late.
“Shit shit shit!” You were a little buzzed from the few drinks you took while at the bar but that didn’t really matter right now as your number one priority was to get home before the sun fully sets, which is already too late.
You kept your eyes on the road. Not taking your eyes off of it as you finally accepted defeat.
You broke one of the rules
You just hoped by the time you get home you don’t get mutilated at your front door step.
A sigh of relief leaves your lips as your house comes into view. You quickly parked and turned off the car and sat there for a moment.
It was quiet
You quickly snatch your keys out of your purse and look around for anything. Your eyes then turn to look at your front door and you take a deep breath. Keys ready in hand, you quickly got out of the car and ran to your door. You opened the door and quickly rushed inside before locking it.
You stood still for a moment. After what felt like forever you sighed in relief and decided that that will be the last time you’ll ever do that again.
No more rule breaking
You told yourself as you walked upstairs. Unaware of the glowing eyes peering outside your window.
2/5
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Nothing bad or strange happened that night. You were relieved to wake up the next morning. You had a hard time getting some sleep after you broke one of the five rules. Thinking you wouldn’t see the light of day if you were to go to sleep.
But by some miracle you woke up fine
Which you were very grateful for after seeing more articles of bodies being found deep inside the woods. It’s been getting pretty dangerous lately as more news of dead bodies being found in those woods has become more frequent.
The townspeople were starting to get worried and scared to even step foot outside. Afraid their bodies will be found next.
When your parents found out about you breaking one of the rules, they were livid!
They scolded you for being so careless and not caring about your safety. It took a minute to calm them down but once you did your mom scolded you one last time before hanging up.
“So what are you going to do?”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“C’mon y/n, you're seriously planning on still staying after more bodies are being found and not only that but you breaking one of the rules?! Girl you’re crazy” You chuckled and continued folding your clothes.
“Nothing bad happened after that night. Seriously, I'm fine”
“You’re fucking crazy”
“Am not” She sighs and you could tell she’s stressing.
“Just be careful okay? I don’t want you being found next”
“I promise I’ll be fine so quit worrying before you get a grey hair!”
“Oh fuck you!” You both laugh before saying your goodbyes and hanging up. You finish folding the last bit of clothes before letting out a loud sigh. You were tired after today’s event. You did some grocery shopping and some heavy chores.
And by heavy chores….you deep cleaned the whole house
So now you were straight up tired after running around all day. Before your ass could even hit the bed, you heard a loud knock coming from downstairs. You froze and waited to hear it again, thinking it was just your tired mind playing tricks on you.
Knock knock knock
You looked outside and saw that it was dark.
Who the hell could it be knocking at your door this late at night?
You made your way downstairs and the knocking on the door became louder.
“Hello?! Is anyone home?!”
Your heart dropped
It was a female voice
“Please! Our car broke down and we don’t know what to do! If anyone’s home can you please help us!?”
You stayed completely still
What the fuck do you do?!
You quietly make your way up the door and decide to take a small peek at the peephole.
There stood two figures. A women and a man.
The woman looked frightened as she kept looking over her shoulder and the man beside her kept caressing her back as if trying to calm her down.
They look human
You stepped back from the door
Should I open it? Should I help these people and let them in?
“Please, we can’t be outside at this hour so if anyone’s home please let us in” This time the man spoke up.
The knocking stopped after that. Only the sounds of the women’s cries can be heard.
“It’s no use! Obanai-San we’re gonna die!”
“No we’re not. C’mon, it’s best that we get back to the car and just stay there for the night”
“B-but what if those things get us on our way to the car?! No no no! Please whoever is in there let us in!”
“Mitsuri-“
You opened the door which caused the women to screech and hide behind the male. You pointed your gun at them and the man quickly covered the women with his body.
“What are you guys doing knocking at my door?!”
“We need help. Our car broke down not to far from here and we need a place to stay for the night” The man says as he looks at the gun and then back at you.
“And what makes you think I believe you? For all I know you guys can be one of those creatures!”
“If we were you would’ve been dead the moment you opened that door” He says.
“Please! We really do need help!” This time the woman behind him speaks up.
You looked at the two in front of you carefully. They look like they really need help and they also look human. The man is right, if they weren’t they would’ve killed you by now. You sigh before lowering your gun. This makes the two relax and you quickly motion them inside.
“You know it’s dangerous walking around here when it’s dark right?” You say. Eyeing the two suspiciously.
“Of course we know”
“Where were you guys headed?” You asked. Still skeptical about the two of them.
“We were going to go visit my parents! They live in the next town over but while on our way there our car broke down in the middle of the road!” The colorful hair women cried out. You raised a brow at her.
“Why did you guys decide to walk all the way over here? You could’ve just waited it out in your car”
“That was the original plan. But someone wanted to go ask for help” the man says as he looks at the woman next to him. She goes bright red before speaking up.
“I was scared! I heard multiple stories about this place!” You chuckle. The mountains and town are really popular with its supernatural stories after all.
“You guys can spend the night” The two sigh in relief. Thankful for your kindness.
“Thank you so much! You are so kind!” The woman blurted out as she smiled.
“Yeah….but by morning you guys have to be out”
“That won’t be a problem” The man says. You just nod and show them the way to one of the many guest bedrooms you have.
“Oh my goodness! How impolite of us to not introduce ourselves! My name is mitsuri!”
“This is obanai! Thank you once again!”
Okay she’s definitely not one of those creatures. You relaxed a bit and decided why not also introduce yourself.
“I’m y/n”
“Oh! Y/n you have such a very pretty name!” She says as she smiles.
“Ah, thank you. Your name is very pretty also!” The woman beams. Very happy to hear that.
“Well I’ll leave the two of you alone. Doors and windows are locked so there’s no need to worry about the monsters coming in!” You joke. They both nod. You leave to go back to your room for much needed rest after a long day. You sleep in utter peace. Not knowing that even with doors and windows locked. The monster still made their way inside your precious home.
3/5
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The next day you woke up to the two strangers gone. The bedroom that they stayed in from the night before was left cleaned and untouched. Like they never used it.
“At least they made the bed”
You moved on after that. Weeks have passed and the strangers have become ... .Well strangers!
You just got home from work and you were slumped. It was late, yes but you managed to get home before the sun set. You were ready to just fall asleep in the sweat and dirt from today at work until you remembered that you recently washed your bedsheets and covers.
You were currently washing up and scrubbing away all the dead skin and dirt that has built up while also thinking about what you should make tomorrow for dinner.
Your parents are coming to visit tomorrow and are also staying for a few days so you wanted to make sure you have all the ingredients for tomorrow's dinner.
“Maybe I should make some pasta? Shrimp Alfredo? Or maybe some chicken curry? Orrr chicken quesadillas? Or maybe-“
You continue to ramble about all the possible foods you can make for tomorrow’s dinner.
Once you were done cleaning up, you made sure to quickly write down the dinner plans so you wouldn’t forget by tomorrow morning.
“Phewwww! Welp time for bed!” You made yourself comfortable before drifting off to blissful sleep.
Unaware of the small whistle that slipped out your mouth earlier in the shower.
4/5
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You managed to wake up bright and early to get the things you needed to make tonight’s dinner. Your parents are coming in a few hours so you wanted to get the ingredients for dinner out of the way so you wouldn’t have to worry about it later.
You went to your local market to buy all the fresh vegetables and fruits first before going to another store to pick up some other stuff that you needed.
You were excited. It’s been some time since you saw your parents so you wanted everything to be perfect. After picking up the last few ingredients you drove home. You also needed to do some last minute cleaning before focusing on the dinner part.
Once you arrived home you saw something strange laying on your front porch.
“Weird…I don’t remember ordering anything” You parked your car before slowly getting out of the vehicle. The moment you got out a stench hit you straight in the face. You wanted to vomit and you quickly covered half of your face.
It was coming from your front porch
Slowly, you walked towards your porch to get a closer look at what was there and you noticed flies surrounding the thing that was there.
“Oh my God”
You took a step back when you noticed what was there.
It was a dead deer
The poor thing was….mutilated. There was a dead mutilated deer on your front porch.
You felt sick
Your stomach turned and you felt like vomiting right then and there.
“So you found a dead deer on your front porch?”
“Yes”
“And nothing else? Dear are you okay?!”
“Mhm yes mom I’m fine” You called your parents immediately after seeing the dead animal in front of your house. The moment your parents heard, they immediately got in the car and started making their way to you a little earlier than what was planned.
“Go inside the house from the back door. Don’t touch anything and keep the doors locked. Stuff like this is usually a threat from those things, we’ll be there in 2 hours if traffic isn’t bad, but just stay inside okay?”
“Yes dad”
“Everythings going to be fine sweetheart, so don’t stress, okay?”
“Yes mom I’m already inside so don’t worry”
“Okay, we’ll be there soon”
And the call ended
Luckily you brought the grocery bags inside the house so you decided to start making dinner a little earlier than expected to get your mind off the dead animal that is still currently laying on your front porch.
You wouldn’t lie and say you weren’t scared. You were fucking terrified. When dead animals are left in front of someone’s house or backyard or land, 100% of the time that person is dead.
It’s a threat. Those things are threatening you and you don’t even know WHY.
You're trying to remember all the things you could’ve done to upset them - or it? You don’t know! You just can’t come up with anything that could explain why such a thing even happened!
You try to let it go and forget about it.
Maybe it’s a coincidence or…a mistake?
Maybe they got the wrong house, yeah?
You sigh and decide to just focus on dinner.
As you were washing some of the vegetables, you heard a faint click.
With the speed of light you turned off the water and stood completely still. You hear the faint sounds of tapping coming from the window of the living room.
Oh God
The sounds of nails dragging against the door is what you hear next. Long. Sharp. Nails.
You hear it before it stops. Then you hear the tap on the window again but now it’s coming from in front of you. You looked up at the window that is in front of your sink. You were lucky you have a small curtain covering the window because you know whatever is behind that window would’ve scared the ever living shit out of you.
You took a couple steps back before your back hit something. Immediately you froze.
You stayed still as whatever was behind you let out a low growl. You feel its long boney hands rest on your shoulders and you could physically feel your heart drop.
The thing then grips your shoulders and that was enough for you to pass out in fear.
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Your head is pounding and you feel cold. You slowly opened your eyes and you saw that it was dark outside.
What
Was all that just a dream?
You tried to sit up but something cold stopped you from doing so. You looked up and saw that your wrists were tied. The cold breeze from the open window made you shiver.
Wait
Open window?!
You panicked and tried to sit up but you couldn’t. The chains on your wrist prevented you from moving let alone getting up. That’s when you also noticed that you weren’t fully clothed. Only your underwear was on and you felt scared.
What the fuck was happening?!
And then….you hear it again. The faint tapping sound of nails on the glass window. But this time you could tell it was coming from inside your room. You slowly turned your head to face the window of your bedroom.
There….you saw a tall slender figure.
But something about this…person? Seemed familiar.
The person….continued tapping its nail against the window and something about that gave you an eerie feeling.
Suddenly, it stops.
You hold your breath as its head slowly moves to look at you.
Your heart drops the moment you make eye contact with it.
“M-mitsuri?” You whisper.
You can’t believe the woman standing before you is the same woman you met a month ago.
She looks so different
She looks…taller and her face…her face doesn’t look human at all but it also does….does that even make sense?!
Her hair is loose and she seems to not be wearing any clothes. You quickly look away but the moment you do you look up to see obanai hovering over you while staring deeply into your soul.
He also looked different
But the thing that caught your attention the most was his mouth. You see the long cuts in the corner of his mouth. Giving him a snake-like appearance.
“You're awake” Her voice sounds different. Your heart starts to beat fast and you can feel tears already threatening to fall.
“W-why…w-what are you guys”
You closed your eyes. Not daring to look at either of them.
What the fuck are they doing in your house
“You're so pretty….you look so cute being underneath him” She says as she slowly starts caressing your hair. You whimper as you feel obanai beginning to nuzzle his face on your neck.
He was sniffing you
“Noo no no no please don’t kill me!” You cry out as you struggle against your chains. She just giggles before joining you two on the bed.
“We would never hurt you. Right obanai?” He just growls. You can feel his clawed hands beginning to fondle with your breast and you gulp the more you feel him press himself closer to you.
“No no no”
“Shhhh everything’s going to be fine….” You can feel her hand slowly start to make its way towards your private area. You cry as you feel her clawed finger rip your underwear before slowly playing with your clit.
“No! Please-“ You gasp when you feel the male's mouth on your chest. He takes a nipple in his mouth and you shiver feeling his long tongue swirl around it.
Mitsuri continues playing with your clit and she giggles seeing you squirm underneath her touch.
Cute
She thinks
You gasp the moment you feel her fingers slip inside your hole. You gripped onto the chains and bit your lip as tears slid down your cheeks.
“No wait! N-not there!” She begins to thrust her fingers in and out your hole and all you could do is shut your eyes tight as you tried your best to not make any noise. Meanwhile, obanai was having the time of his life sucking harshly at your nipples. A lewd pop is heard as he finally leaves your poor nipple alone.
“More” he growls. You feel relieved when her fingers leave your poor cunt alone. But that was soon gone when you felt something poking you from down there. Your blood runs cold the moment you look down to see a monstrous cock.
Terrified, you squirm and shake your head knowing what was going to happen.
“No no no! Please! That’s not going to fit, please let me go!”
They don’t even pay you any mind as he grabs ahold of both of your thighs and spreads your legs open. They both coo at you and mitsuri begins to caress your face as she calms you down.
His tip pokes your entrance. You can tell he’s trying to hold himself back as mitsuri starts to also caress his face. He leans against her touch and waits for the green light.
“Be careful. Human women are much more delicate than us” He nods before he starts lining up his tip against your hole. You gasp as you feel him slowly push in.
You were ashamed of how wet you were.
You cry out at the burning sensation you feel. Your poor little cunt is being stretched open for crying out loud! You try scooting back. Not wanting him in. But that soon stops as he grabs your waist and slams you down fully on his length. You scream as you gripped onto the chains.
“There there! Look how perfect you're taking him! Oh I knew you were perfect for us!”
You could feel your face heat up at the lewd sounds of your cunt on his cock and the groans and moans leaving him.
“S-slow down!”
You can hear him whimper as he buries his face on your neck. And no, he doesn’t slow down. In fact, he quickened his pace and you could feel your legs start to shake.
“So beautiful!” Your face burns seeing her staring to play with herself. She fondles one of her breasts while looking at the two of you intensely.
Before you know it, you squirt all over his length. The man holds on to you tight as he cums deep inside you. You breathe heavy, your body tired and sensitive from what it has experienced. You couldn’t keep your eyes open even for a second from how tired you were.
“Shhh sleep now. Don’t worry we’ll take great care of you” You lean against her touch and the last thing you see before sleep takes over you is the chains being cut off before your carefully picked up from the bed.
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Your parents arrive at last. Your father sees the dead animal still laying on your front porch and him and your mother both quickly make their way in from the back door.
“Y/n! We’re here!” Your mother shouts. But she was met with silence. Worried, your parents quickly run upstairs in search of you. Entering your room, they see that you aren’t in there and that’s when they both begin to panic.
They search the whole house from top to bottom but only to be met with nothing. You weren’t there.
A few hours later they filed a missing persons report and asked for a search party to help find you.
Unfortunately, upon seeing the dead Animal in front of your porch, the sheriff and people of the town broke the news to your parents about you falling victim to those monsters.
After all
The mountains have many rules. And you broke 5 of the most important ones.
-
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