#who grows uncomfortable with the thought of being a boy. of being a man like them

[cutesilyo]

so deeply obsessed with the thought of trans boy edward elric and trans girl percy jackson

[emeritusemeritus]

Breed like Gnomes [Fred Weasley]

Title: Breed like Gnomes.

Pairing: PregnantWife!Reader x Fred Weasley

Timeline: Set after Canon (Fred lives!)

Summary: At Ginny and Harry’s wedding, you find yourself facing Aunt Muriel’s unpleasantness, so Fred decides to have some fun.

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, babies, sexual references.

Word count: 1.2k

June 4th 2003, a joyful and long awaited day for all in attendance. The marriage of Harry Potter and Ginevra Weasley. It was a family affair, both in blood and bond, the entire venue packed with loved ones sharing in the happiness of the newlyweds.

Being Ginny's long standing friend and now sister-in-law, you were naturally made a bridesmaid along with six others who proudly stood by Ginny's side as she said her vows. It was beautiful, joyous and utterly heartwarming to see them unite and be declared husband in wife in front of the many people attending. The couple had initially wanted a much smaller affair than what had transpired but in the end, they were too deeply cared for by so many and the numbers were ever increasing, only made worse by Molly's excitement and welcoming nature.

It had been a truly magical day; getting to support your new sister in law, to see your daughter throw wild flowers down the aisle and most of all getting to check out your husband in his tux as he sat beaming beside his twin brother in the front row, holding back a tear at seeing his little sister suddenly looking so grown up.

"You alright sweetheart?" Fred asks worriedly as you lower yourself gently into your assigned seat inside the bustling marquee. It was getting late now, the party stretching into the night as people danced merrily around you.

You were exhausted from the day, the early morning, the usual nuptial stresses and from the shoes that were growing increasingly uncomfortable around your slightly swollen ankles.

You simply smiled warmly at Fred with a little nod, leaning into his touch when he placed his arm behind you on your chair, his fingers fidgeting with the strands of hair that had fallen down your back.

You both turned your heads in the direction of delighted squeals and watched as your children danced around, chasing each other and their many cousins with beaming smiles on their faces. Their nice outfits were quite frankly ditched at this point and they'd eaten more cake than you cared to admit throughout the day but as you looked at the three happy faces on the dance floor, you couldn't care less. Their uncle George took turns spinning and twirling them and you couldn't help but watch in devotion at seeing your oldest dancing with your brother in law, no doubt standing on his feet as he glided her around whilst the twins ran in circles around the dancing pair.

You let out a little surprise gasp when you felt a sharp kick to your side, just underneath your rib.

"I thought you were asleep," you say quietly with a loving smile as your hand drifts down to your blooming bump, gently rubbing over the spot where you'd felt a little prod.

"Letting you know he's there?" Fred asks with a smirk, noticing your movements. He moved closer and places his large hand over yours, wanting to feel for himself the little kicks that had you smiling at your bump.

"He?" You question sarcastically, with a slight raise of your eyebrow.

"Fathers intuition," Fred smirks with a slight shrug, "never been wrong yet."

"You didn't know there were two last time," you countered teasingly, nodding your head towards the two litttle boys causing havoc on the dance floor. He lets out a boyish chuckle and for a moment you both catch each other's eyes, both twinkling in delight and bound with love. You'd been married for nearly five years, together for much longer but it still took your breath away how much you loved this man, and how much he loved you in return.

"Good heavens!"

The nice moment passed as soon as the loud, screechy voice sounded out on the next table, forcing you apart. You jumped slightly at the unexpected noise before realising that Fred's great aunt Muriel had taken up a seat at the table beside yours and as usual her presence was unwanted. Her voice went through you, like nails on a chalkboard. The high tone and the derogatory, unpleasant undertone to her words, accompanied by the constant hateful look on her face were enough to cement a negative association in your mind. Both you and Fred deflated a little at her presence, with Fred letting out an audible sigh that you felt in your soul. Even your baby let out a sharp kick as if to announce their own displeasure at the sound of her voice.

"Yes aunt Muriel?" Fred says in the most monotone voice he can muster, not even attempting to hide the dismay in his voice, or his face.

"Godric," she mumbles under her breath, casting her eyes between the two of you, focusing her beady eyes on your bump, and where your children were currently hanging off George like monkeys in a tree. "You breed like gnomes!"

You hope your face doesn't show the depth of your exasperation at her words but you doubted your ability to keep a straight face. Fred, of course, finds it hilarious and can't keep the smile off of his face. You can feel his shoulders moving up and down with silent laughter but he manages to contain it and simply clears his throat to hide the laughter.

"Have either of you considered simply reading of an evening? Instead of what I assume are your usual activities?" She says with a bitter tone, face downturned into her usual grimace.

Fred snorts at her words and though you feel slightly offended by her accusation, just as you always did by her comments, you can't help but chuckle yourself at the strangeness of the situation. Was she really commenting on your sex life?

"Onto your fourth already! And only 25! You’re worse than your mother, all of you breed like Gnomes."

"You see I've never been one for reading, but I tried," Fred replies coyly. From his tone of voice you can tell that he's teasing, about to prod the bear. "But it only gave me more ideas. What was is called sweetheart? Some muggle book... Kama sutra! Eroticism for begginers. Let me tell you, it's changed my life! Couldn't put it down... or her," he says, nodding his head towards you with a wicked smile on his face as his hand snakes around to cradle your bump once again.

You can't hide your smile this time as Muriel lets out a disgusted squark and turns away with a deeper grimace than before. You turn your head and snuggle into Fred's shoulder to hide your laughter whilst he openly chuckles to himself, head thrown back slightly in glee.

"You're terrible," you mutter with a smirk, pulling yourself away from the soft fabric of his shirt where it stretches over his muscled shoulders. His smile is wide and wicked as he takes in your words, hearing nothing but compliments.

"Hilarious is a better word," he quips, eyes shining in delight.

"Incorrigible."

"Completely irreformable," he agrees without a single care. "But I think you like me like this."

You look up from under your lashes at him, matching the look in his sparkling eyes and can't help but agree.

Taglist part 1 ♡

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[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 3

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

The shadows unceremoniously dumped a whole stack of Sellyn Drake Novels on Azriel’s desk.

Azriel eyed the stack of novels dubiously, wondering how in the Mother's blessed name the Shadows had gotten their hands on these. Or why.

But they stayed silent, clearly waiting for him to outright demand an answer. *Why?* he asked with a long suffering sigh. *What's this about?*

No response.

Azriel reached for one of the books, pulling it off the top of the stack and flipping it over. And immediately he regretted that decision. The cover was…certainly something.

A shirtless man holding a rather skimpily dressed woman up against a wall. 

Azriel let out a long, long sigh.

*You need to read the books, Master,* the shadows told him seriously.

Azriel stared at his shadows, then at the books, then at his shadows. *You cannot possibly be serious.* What exactly was this supposed to give him? 

He flipped it over, reading the synopsis. 

When Lady Eleanor is forced into an unwanted marriage, she despairs—until the enigmatic Sir Tristan, a battle-scarred knight with a fearsome reputation, crashes into her life. Bound by a promise to protect her, Tristan whisks Eleanor away from her gilded prison, thrusting them into a wild escape across enemy lands.

Haunted by his past and wary of love, Tristan tries to keep Eleanor at arm's length. But as they face danger together, a fierce passion grows between them, tempting them to trust in a love that could heal even the deepest wounds.

What the fuck. 

*We are, Master.* The Shadows told him, sounding as earnest as they possibly could.

He opened the book. Titled The Dark Knight’s Desire, flicking through the pages. Was this…a first edition?

*It’s important!* The shadows insisted. *You know…to brush up on these flirting skills of yours.*

Azriel shot the shadows an unamused look. *I can flirt perfectly well,* he protested.

*You most certainly cannot.* The Shadows deadpanned. *It’s research! Read them for her!*

*Read them for…* Azriel started, his voice trailing off.

*You found...* he trailed off weakly. They had found a female for him?

The shadows swirled around him almost playfully. *Of course we did,* they said innocently. *We told you we would, didn’t we?*

They were working quickly. It had only been weeks since he had agreed to let them find him a wife.

*You did,* Azriel said slowly, but his mind was working fast, so fast, trying to wrap around the idea that his Shadows were trying to help him find a wife…and more importantly, that they had found a female they thought he would find suitable.

*Where did you find her?* he asked, carefully.

*Here in Velaris!* the shadows answered brightly.

*Here?* Azriel asked, his surprise obvious. The shadows had found...a female...here in Velaris? Someone who was compatible with him? And they wanted him to read...what were these again? Sellyn Drake novels? So he would know how to best romance this female?

*Read the books, Master,* the shadows said with a sigh. So he did.

And that was how Azriel spent his next few hours. Reading a book, and blushing like some sort of adolescent boy when certain…particularly intimate scenes came around. The Shadows cackled beside him the entire time.

How the fuck did Nesta do this with a straight face?!?

Azriel had no idea, but by the Mother, he was never going to ask her. Ever. He would just die of embarrassment.

Though he needed to admit...he actually quite liked it.

The novels, that is. The…intimate scenes. Azriel liked them. A lot. Not even the...smut, like Nesta called it...no, he liked the love story. He liked the two people that came together and would do everything for each other...the falling in love part. He liked that.

But the Shadows were probably never going to let him live this down. Azriel did find comfort in a single thought, though. Whoever this possible future partner was, she was never going to know about this. There was no way in hell he would let her find out that he read smutty books to brush up his flirting skills.

But even that did not stop the nagging thought in Azriel's head, one that made him hesitate, and doubt himself, and doubt the Shadows' judgment. "What if..." he said softly, hesitantly. "What if she just...doesn't like me?"

He knew he had some...rough edges, to put it kindly. And he had his own...troubles. His own...insecurities. Some of the things he kept to himself, so many of his...issues. The shadows knew of them all, of course…There were many nights they stayed up with him, soothing him when the ghosts in his mind became a little too loud, a little too real.

What if that scared her? He didn't want her to be scared. He didn't want to scare her.

*She'll like you, Master.* The Shadows assured him, wrapping themselves around him comfortingly and soothingly. *She’ll love you.*

He exhaled. *Can you read minds now?*

*Only yours,* the Shadows assured him. *But as long as you don't cheat on her with her sister, you'll be doing a better job than her ex-partners!*

What. 

"Are you seriously reading a Sellyn Drake novel?" Only 5 centuries of training kept him from flinching as he looked up to find Cassian in his doorway.

"Nesta said it was good," he shot back flatly, not hiding the book, because that would just give Cassian even more reason to tease him. 

"You...actually listen to Nesta's...book recommendations?" Cassian stared at him, as if he had grown a third head.

"She is intelligent, and she reads more than either of us," Azriel shot back, sharply. "So yes, if she says it's good, I'll try it."

Cassian gave a slight shake of his head, not believing what he was hearing. "You are…actually reading a Sellyn Drake novel?" He repeated as if he couldn't quite believe that Azriel was actually doing that.

"Yes," Azriel said, his words clipped. "You have a problem with that?"

Cassian just stared at him for a long moment before letting out a quiet laugh. "No, I just never thought I would actually see the day that you read a Sellyn Drake novel."

"Well, I like it," Azriel said evenly. "It’s very are well written."

"And smutty," Cassian said with a grin.

Azriel rolled his eyes. "It’s are more than just...smut, Cassian, It actually has a story, and good characters."

"Characters who can barely keep their hands off each other long enough to solve the mystery, you mean," Cassian drawled, but Azriel ignored him, flipping a page. 

."Have you ever actually read a Sellyn Drake novel, Cassian?" Azriel asked, shooting him a look. "Or do you simply judge by the covers?"

Cassian just grinned, clearly enjoying this conversation and how defensive Azriel had become. "The covers are pretty damn attractive though."

Azriel rolled his eyes at that comment, but didn't respond. Just looked back down at the book, completely ignoring his brother.

"Are you coming to dinner tonight?" Cassian asked him instead. 

"No," he answered flatly. He did really want to know how the book ended.

*We found a house! We can show it to you!* the shadows hissed at that moment. Huh.

"There is something that needs my attention," Azriel said simply.

Cassian gave him a searching look, a frown etched into his face, but Azriel simple met his gaze. 

"Az," Cassian said quietly. "Come on."

"I have something I need to do, Cassian." Azriel's voice was still flat, but more firm, a clear sign that he did not want any arguments.

"Az," Cassian said again, and this time, there was a small thread of pleading in his voice. "Just… come have dinner with us. Please. It'll be good for you."

Good? Good to sit at Rhys' table and be told to "behave"? Azriel would rather eat crushed glass than do that. Which was the reasons why he skipped out of them as often as he possible could.

He knew, he knew that Cassian was just looking out for him, but that didn't mean that he felt like he was obligated to go.

"I have something I need to do," he repeated, his voice even.

Cassian sighed. "You are so goddamn stubborn," he muttered, but he let the subject drop, clearly knowing that Azriel was not going to listen.

That evening, instead of sitting through that dinner, Azriel let the shadows swirl around him in excitement, tugging on his jacket, practically dragging him forward.

*It's a lovely house, Master!* they said as they wrapped him in their embrace.

He blinked twice as he rematerialised in front of a lake. Somehow not quite what he had expected. But then…then he saw the house.

Grey stone and wood and the biggest windows he had ever seen that promised an breathtaking view over the lake… and nobody around as far as he could see. He stared at the house, a brow raised. It was nice…very nice. A little too nice. Exactly too his taste.

Azriel turned towards the shadows as he raised another brow. *And how exactly did you…* he started with a huff. *You know what, nevermind.*

He could already hear the shadows saying that they asked for a favor in exchange. Or maybe they stole it.

The house was still nice though, perfect really. He just…didn't want to know what they had done to get it.

Azriel glanced towards the building again. He could almost picture himself in the space, walking around, just….simply existing. It was peaceful and quiet…and he would not be…disturbed or bothered.

He could see himself reading in front of the fireplace, looking out into the night sky through the large windows. 

Azriel walked towards the building, his fingers brushing over the wall. He could feel it already….he could already feel his muscles loosening, his shoulders lowering from their stiff position.

Home, he thought as stepped into the space, the shadows following after him as his lips tugged upwards.

Yes, he could already see himself calling it that. Home. He liked the ring of it. 

*You're welcome, Master,* the shadows said as they swirled around him, nuzzling him affectionately. They were happy for him, so very happy for him.

The living room was spacious, filled with  overstuffed couches and armchairs made for wings… the view indeed was spectacular. And one long uninterrupted wall was lined with tall, massive bookshelves.

It was perfect.

*Does she like books?* he couldn't help but ask.

*Yes, Master! She loves books!* The Shadows assured him in an excited chorus.

She liked to read. That was the first little tidbit of information he learned about her.

*Will you tell me something else about her?* he asked them softly, as he kept exploring the house.

*What do you want to know?* the shadows asked.

*Did her ex-partner really cheat on her with her sister?* he wondered aloud.

*Yes. They are engaged to be married now,* the shadows answered. *He's an asshole,* they muttered darkly.

Azriel couldn't help but give a nod in agreement. An ass was too kind. Whoever he was, he was more than that. Azriel hated him, whoever he was.

*Anything else?* he asked the shadows, curious, so damn curious, to know more about the female.

*She has a cat. His name is Hector. He may be the ugliest cat in existence,* the shadows said primly, *but she adores him.*

Not what he expected, but it was...sweet. It was kind. She had a pet cat. His lips tugged upwards into an involuntary smile.

*And...?* he trailed off, waiting for a response. He was greedy, so damn greedy for more, so greedy to get to know the female more. His curiosity about her had grown to a fever pitch, it seemed.

The Shadows hummed thoughtfully. *She is very, very kind, Master,* they finally said softly.

Those words caused Azriel's smile to go soft, so damn soft. His heart fluttered at the Shadows' words. She was kind. She was kind and she had a cat that she adored. Her ex was an ass who cheated on her. She read, liked books, which meant she was intelligent, and…

Was he getting excited about someone he had never even met?

*When...when can I meet her?* he asked softly.

*Soon,* the shadows promised. *She doesn't leave the house that often...*

Azriel's brows drew together at that. *Why not?* he asked quietly, not sure if he really wanted the answer to that question.

The Shadows hesitated for a moment before responding. *People...people aren't very nice to her,* they admitted slowly.

Azriel blinked, confused. People...weren't nice to her...? But…why? What was there not to be nice about? From what he had gleaned, she was kind, had a cat, was smart, and liked books. What was wrong with any of that? It didn't make any sense.

*Why?* he demanded shaprly.*Because people are idiots as usual,* the shadows snapped right back. *People aren't nice to you either.*

Azriel gave a small wince at that, the shadows words hitting him like a bucket of ice cold water. But they were right, people weren't all the nicest to him, either.

Still...he didn't like the idea of her being treated poorly. He wanted...Gods, the want was so strong, all of a sudden. The want to…to protect her. To guard her, and protect her. To keep her safe. To make sure she was alright.

*Tell me when she leaves her house,* he demanded.

For a moment he could swear the shadows were nearly frozen in place.

*Change of Plans. Put on a different shirt,* the shadows said quickly. Azriel just stared at them.

*A different shirt?* he asked. He didn't even have any clothing here! That was back at the House of Wind. But the shadows were clearly not taking no for an answer.

He batted away a tendril as it started to unbuckle his fighting leathers and did it himself, only for them to shove him into a shirt that was so dark green it was nearly black and then start fussing with his hair.

Azriel barely had time to even process what was happening before the shadows were pushing him towards the door, still trying to fix and smooth his hair and clothes as they moved forward.

*What is the change of plan?* he asked them

*You are getting to see her right now,* the shadows said with a hint of glee to their voice. *Her sister and some friends are taking her to a bar.*

*The same sister that cheated on her with her ex-partner?* he demanded.

*Yes,* the shadows agreed in a hiss. 

Great. So he was going to have to stop a fight from happening, all while trying to meet the female he apparently was connected to? That was a...recipe for disaster right there..

*She'll be at the Crystal Drop* the shadows informed him, and his heart gave a strange little clench at those words. He was...he was actually going to get to meet her. Tonight.

The feeling of excitement was back, rushing through him like a wildfire. But there was also a hint of trepidation, a hint of nervousness. What if he screwed it all up? What if he messed things up? His stomach was suddenly full of butterflies.

Azriel didn't have time to dwell on those thoughts, though, as the shadows gave him a little nudge forward again, all but forcing him to start moving towards the tavern.

He could see it in the distance, the sign proclaiming it as “Crystal Drop”. It...it was right there. She was there... 

Taking a deep breath, he headed towards the bar, his heart pounding in his chest with every step that he took closer to the entrance. Gods, his hands were shaking. 

He was nervous. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was

He entered the tavern, and his eyes automatically went to the crowd, searching for...something.

The shadows let him towards a place in a corner where he could view the whole bar and he ordered a single fireale, because he was not getting drunk. He wanted his wits about him when he met her. 

But right now…right now, Azriel settled in to watch.

He watched the crowd, his eyes roving around, searching the whole tavern once again. He just wanted to know where the group was. He wanted to know where...she was.

*Do you see her, Master?* the shadows asked him, nearly teasingly.

*I have absolutely no clue how she looks, so how should I?* he gave back in a growl. The door opened and he watched as a group of females poured in...and then right there at the edges of that group...

His breath caught in his throat as his eyes fell on her, and...oh.

Between one blink and the next everything changed. A golden bond unfurled in his chest, connecting him to her.

Her.

He knew it.

She was his mate.

Mine. He whispered in his head, barely more than a thought. He knew it with every fiber of his being, every part of his heart.

He took her in hungrily. 

She was so beautiful. So, so beautiful. Azriel had to physically restrain himself from going over to her right then and there. 

He could hardly breathe. He couldn't form a coherent thought. His whole world had suddenly narrowed to the sight in front of her. His mate.

*Master?* There was alarm in the shadows voices as his breathing became near erratic.

*She's...You found my mate,* he said weakly.

The shadows hummed in confirmation and his eyes were glued to her still, drinking her in. She had long brown hair with soft curls, falling over back, bangs framing a rounded face with high cheekbones and plump cheeks...full rosy lips too and adorable freckles dotting over her nose...

She was the most beautiful being he had ever seen.  She was simply...stunning. 

And mine, he thought to himself. She was his. She was his mate.

He didn't even look at the rest of the group. Just focused on the one...the one who was at the edge of the group, seemingly trying to vanish, to become invisible. 

Even from the distance, Azriel could see the tension in his mate’s form. He frowned slightly at that. He didn't like it, seeing her like that.

He...his instincts were starting to kick in, a soft, protective urge rising up in him. He wanted to go to her, to...to stand by her side and ease away whatever was bothering her. But he stayed rooted to the spot, just...just watching her. Just watching his mate, the sight of her soothing every single little part of him until he felt warm all over.

He let the group settle at a table a few feet away from him, forcing himself to look down on the bottle in front of him and not stare at his mate like a total creep.

If he strained his ears, he could hear the whole conversation. Apparently it was his mate’s sisters Hen Party, the kind of celebration that some High Fae Females had before they got married.

Nice. Why not bring along your sister, when you were engaged to the guy that cheated with you on said sister?

The fact that his mate even came along into this bar that evening was probably a sign of how fucking nice she was. And Gods...no wonder his mate was so anxious...this whole thing was just...a disaster waiting to happen.

He glanced towards the group again, his attention once again immediately falling on his mate. He could see it, the small twitch of her fingers, the tightening of her lips...the small little things, and he felt his heart wrench at the sight.

She didn't talk. She was just sitting there silently, while the other females had a raucous conversation, that she wasn't part of. It made him bristle.

He didn't understand why they were doing that, why she wasn't a part of the conversation. She was right there. But they weren't listening, they weren't noticing her...or maybe they were ignoring her on purpose.

He...he didn't like it. He didn’t like it at all.  

Just minutes later, Azriel realised that he should have wished that they kept ignoring her.

Because Azriel was quite certain that he was going to slit his mate's sister's throat with Truthteller if she said one more word. 

The blonde, her sister, stared at his mate and this time a sharp, nasty smile curled on her lips. "Oh, what's the matter, little sister? Mad that I nabbed the male you were going to marry?" she taunted with a malicious grin. "I guess he just liked me better."

Azriel was so shocked that he could just sit there, staring. 

The other females laughed as the blonde continued, her lips curled in a sneer. "You should be happy for me, really," she said, her voice sugary sweet. "After all, you could never keep him happy. You've always been useless, haven't you?"

The comments made Azriel see red. What the hell was wrong with this female? Who treated their own sister like this? 

He had half a mind to go over there and wring her neck. 

*Don’t,* his shadows hissed. *You’ll make it worse.*

*Make it worse?! It can’t fucking get worse!* he hissed back. 

He itched to go over to the group, to protect his mate from these cruel, cruel words. 

*Yes, it can,* the shadows snapped. *What do you want to do? Massacre her sister right in front of her?!* Azriel growled under his breath. 

*Normally you are much more bloodthirsty,* he complained to the shadows. 

*You are the fucking spymaster. Act like it,* the shadows snapped. *You want us to make her sister’s life a misery? We’ll do it. We’ll do it and it will never be traced back to you. Besides, she deserves worse than a quick death.*

He clenched his teeth. 

The other females were laughing, but his mate...wasn't. She wasn't saying a single word, wasn't defending herself, wasn't saying anything. Just...just sitting there and taking the horrible abuse with a neutral, blank expression on her face.

"Cat got your tongue?" her sister asked her with a roll of her eyes. "I mean, it's not like you're good at talking, are you?" she asked her with a cruel little laugh. "Too bad for you that males want females that are able to have a conversation, not awkward little things who can't even speak when spoken to."

Azriel's body tensed as he listened to the words, every muscle coiled tight. It took every ounce of his control not to stride over to the group of females and punch her sister straight in the face. The only thing he wanted to do in that moment was to protect his mate.

The comment clearly found it's target, Azriel could see his mate flinch at the words, her face crumbling momentarily before it smoothed over into a neutral expression again. Gods...it must've hurt so badly to hear her sister speak to her like that…

*We’ll ruin her fucking life,* he vowed to the shadows. 

*Agreed, Master.”

Her sister rolled her eyes another time. "Come on, let's go," she told the other females. "You have the bill, don't you, Skylar?"

The words made Azriel snap. So the sister hadn't intended to even pay for her drinks in the first place? It was…they had just used her, he realised suddenly. Used her for the first stop on their tavern tour, to pick up the drink tab…and that was all she was good for in their eyes…

It was...Azriel couldn't stand by and watch this anymore, it made him so angry. So fucking furious.

"Ye...yes," his mate stuttered.

She looked so small in that moment, her eyes averted, her shoulders slumped, her hands trembling. She looked...wounded, so hurt, and Azriel was...he was sick of seeing her just accept this verbal abuse without a word. 

They left. They should thank the cauldron that they left at that moment, because otherwise Azriel would have made Cassian at his worst look like a puppy.

He wanted to storm after them, to give every single person in the group a piece of his mind, but that could wait. The most important thing right now was his mate. She was still here, after all. Azriel took a deep breath, and slowly, almost hesitantly walked towards her.

He watched as she didn't move, and he finally decided to speak, his voice a low, soft murmur. "Mind if I sit here?" he asked, gesturing to the chair beside her.

Her head turned, and he felt his heart stop as her eyes met his for the first time. Up close, her eyes were...mesmerizing. A deep, sparkling blue, framed by long, lush eyelashes. He couldn't look away from her.

And she stared at him, her mouth slightly open, her eyes near comically wide.

He gave her a soft, slow smile. "Hi," he greeted her, his voice gentle. She blinked a few times, still staring at him, and he found it so cute, how shocked she was that he was talking to her. 

Her mouth opened but no words came out. She was staring at him like a poor bunny rabbit would at an apex predator , caught in his grasp.

For just a moment her scent went utterly haywire.

Caramel and Hazelnuts. So sugary sweet that he would have gladly rolled around in it. And she just stared at him, wide eyed, silent...until suddenly the scent changed to incadescent happiness.

"Oh." A small sound escaped her as she swallowed.

And he knew. He knew at that moment that the bond had just snapped for her.

[ultravi0lence14]

Butterfly

sam winchester x angel!reader

1k | fluff, fem pronouns

summary: you and sam were complete opposites of each other, and sam had no idea how a gorgeous, pure girl like you could even chose him in the first place.

sam sometimes just stared at you when you weren’t looking, wondering how he got so lucky in finding a girl like you.

you were so sweet, someone sam thought his wretched soul wasn’t worthy of. he’s got demon blood running through his veins, the vessel of lucifer himself. why would you — an angel as pure as snow — even remotely look his way.

that was the funny thing with you angels though. you guys always saw the best in people.

before you touched down from heaven, you had learned the copious stories of the winchester brothers lives. how their mother died, springing them into the hunting life. their tragic upbringing, and how their father raised them poorly. but most importantly, you learned about the youngest.

sam winchester. the boy with demon blood. every angel you spoke to said he was an abomination, but you thought differently.

this wasn’t sam’s fault. he was a defenceless baby, having this curse brought forth onto him by his mother’s actions long before his conception. sam was a victim, a child forced into this life with no say whatsoever; and you felt like the only angel who truly saw it like that.

when you had made it to earth, cordially meeting both sam and dean for the first time, you wondered why your brother’s and sister’s talked so poorly about the man.

he truly was a friendly giant. too sweet for his own good. he cared. about people he didn’t know, his brother especially, and all the strangers he came across on hunts with dean.

watching him console a victim for the first time tugged on your heart strings. he was so kind, so thoughtful and unlike anything said about him up in heaven. it was at that moment you felt your first human emotion. a surge of fondness rushing up your body like bile coming up your throat.

for a fleeting moment, you experienced what human love was truly like.

as time moved forward, you and sam got closer and closer. more often than not, you decided to stay back and research with him instead of going out with dean and cas. you talked with him, learning about his childhood from his mouth and truly understanding the full truth and severity of his life growing up.

the day that he kissed you for the first time was magical, better than the feeling of all angel grace combined. he was nervous, hands shaking as the cupped your face and shyly asking if this is what you wanted.

of course you wanted it. you wanted sam winchester since the moment you saw him, and now you were finally getting what you hoped for.

just as you believed, sam truly was the perfect boyfriend. he was caring and considerate, always willing to drop anything and everything to make sure you were okay. though he was also tough and protective, turning full hunter mode whenever someone bothered you or made you uncomfortable.

one thing you loved was how he spoke to you. he held you at the highest point in his mind, addressing you with the upmost love and respect that he could muster.

because that is how he really saw you. sam in his heart believed that you were possibly the most gorgeous being he’d ever laid his eyes on. you were truly the apple of his eye, and he wouldn’t dream of letting someone as perfect as you go.

he even called you his butterfly. a gorgeous creation of God that flys around and somehow always lands somewhere on him. which was true, because you were a very clingy person.

you two were always holding hands, arms linked, or sam’s arm wrapped around your waist or shoulder. dean had to stop himself from hurling 24/7, and you had to stop yourself from getting cartoonish hearts in your eyes whenever you looked at him.

the peace and serenity that you brought to sam’s life was all he could ever ask for. when you decided to take up drawing and painting, he cherished the times you two would find an empty space, setting down a picnic blanket and drawing whatever your heart desired surrounded by nature.

when he joined you for the first time, and you handed him over a intricately detailed drawing of him sitting down at that very moment, eyes opened and staring woefully at the large trees and flowers surrounding him, he couldn’t help but let a couple tears fall.

“oh no,” you had exclaimed, sitting up on your knees so you could get nearer to him. “you don’t like it, do you?”

he instantly snapped his head towards you, watching as tears filled your bright coloured eyes. his heart shattered staring into your glassy irises, and he cursed himself for ever making you feel like that.

shaking his head and putting down your sketchbook so he could cup your face, sam pulled you over to him so you were delicately perched in his lap. eye’s boring into his as he delicately stroked your cheek.

“i love it butterfly. that is the prettiest drawing i have ever seen. even prettier cause it was made by you.” his cheesy words made you blush, not caring in the slightest how silly you two probably looked to on lookers. with your finger reaching out to trace the slope of his nose, you looked at him with a soft smile on your face, pouring your heart into one look. “you mean that?”

“of course i do.” his eyes held that glossy puppy dog look you loved so dearly, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. “i am not trying to sound cheesy when i say this, but you truly are the best thing that ever happened to me, butterfly. you’re the one of the only one’s who believed in me.”

his words brought a gleeful smile on your face. and as the midday sun trickled across his, you thanked your father for whatever he did to make you and sam come together.

[just-a-sewer-goblin]

Butcher!Simon x gn!reader Part 2 < Part 1 | COD Masterlist | Part 3 >

Butcher!Simon who is bored. It's a regular day and he just doesn't enjoy interacting with customers. It's just not his thing. The only exception is you but you always come in on tuesday and friday and today is neither. He sighs and grunts when another customer pays and leaves.

Imagine the way he suddenly perks up when he sees you approach the shop. The shop is empty except for him and so he gets the joy of watching you approach, your big ugly mutt on a leash, pacing besides you, never even tugging on the leash, focused on you.

The corner of his mouth twitches upwards when you stop before the shop and chew your lip indecisively rereading the sign that forbids dogs from entering (he loved and hates when you do that, nasty habit, but he wants to be the one to bite your lip instead).

You meet his eyes, that are already trained on you, intensely, and in an effort to not make you more uncomfortable he waves.

Shit did that look too excited? Maybe he can reassure you if he nods at you so you bring the dog in with you?

He nods his head at you. Hopefully you get what he's trying to tell you and don't think he's completely lost his mind now.

And oh, his thoughts come to a screeching halt, when you open the door and enter the shop, your dog at your hip.

Goddamit, Simon nearly groans in frustration. He wanted to prepare dog treats, but he didn't expect you today. How is he supposed to charm you if your brute of a dog doesn't like him?

But he doesn't have time to think more about that because you're at the counter and smile at him. He notices how much more at ease and confident you seem with your calf of a dog with you.

Maybe your dog is your equivalent of his mask.

And suddenly he's nervous. He never cared about the impression he makes on other but man, does he want to get along with your dog. He tries to hide his nerves when he says: "Didn't expect you today." His voice is gruff.

You don't seem as intimidated today, patting the head of your dog and saying with a smile that's audible in your voice (god, what he'd do to be the cause of that smile): "Yeah today is an exception. It's the anniversary of when I got my big baby."

Simon grabs the counter to keep from reaching for you and just snatching you up in his arms. Fuck. What he'd do for you to look at him like that, to call him your big baby. Maybe in his next life he gets to be reborn as your pet.

He nods at you, eyes intensely trained on your happy expression. "May I give him a treat, as an anniversary gift?"

Will you think that's ridiculous? Tell him to fuck off because it aint his business and he's being a creep anyway with the way he can't. Fucking. Take. His. Eyes. Off. You.

Instead you beam up at him and Simon feels something in his chest clench painfully at that. "Yes, of course."

He reaches for a piece of meat and steps out behind the counter. Pretending that he doesn't see the way your eyes widen when he steps closer and you grow more aware of just how broad and big he is. Pretending that he doesn't notice the way your hands clench around the leash tighter.

"He's friendly, just let him take it from you and don't pet him. He doesn't like that.", you say putting a reassuring hand on the back of your mutt.

Simon extends his hand with the meat and tried to read the tag at his collar.

"Easy, boy. Just a treat for you, for taking care of your owner so well."

He's so focused on trying to impress the dog (why is this so nerve wrecking) that he misses the way you bite your lip at the sound of his voice. He's insanely proud that he managed to not say "my love" instead. Doesn't want to scare you off after all.

Your dog takes a step forward, sniffs his fingers for a tense minute and then gently takes the meat from his hand, chewing it loudly making a pleased rumbling sound.

Simon feels like he won the lottery.

"Good boy.", your voice rings out and now it's not only Simons chest that clenches but something deep in his stomach as well, something delicious and needy.

His eyes meet yours and he feels like he's doused in cold water when he sees you looking at the dog.

You were talking to the dog. Of course.

[gloomskulls]

LIMERENCE [tasm!peter parker]

pairings: tasm!peter parker x reader

part 2

warning(s): obessive peter, creep peter, stalking, masturbation, panty sniffing, dirty thoughts, breaking in, just peter being hopelessly in love. If any of this finds you uncomfortable, please click out do yourself (and me also) a favor. lemme know if I missed any! MINORS DO NOT READ

summary: For Peter Parker, the deepest secret is not being Spider-Man. It's that he likes you, no he loves you, wants you in any imaginable way possible. After years of quietly admiring you from a distance, everything changes after a biology project that partners you two together. Peter sees a glimpse of chance to get nearer to you, but the line of affection and obsession begins to blur

If you don't want to see my dark stories in the future please block the tag #madi: dark content

A/n: my first ever fic posted on Tumblr, yippee! This is also my first ever smut so it probs be equivalent to horse poo but anyways, this also takes place in tasm 2. don't steal any of the shit I've written or else i'm gonna turn you into Vicky from Terrifier/srs

Peter didn't understand what was so special about you, you were just a crush. Or that's what he convinced himself. Every single place you were in, Peter would carefully trail behind you, like there was a magnet strapped onto you, and Peter was the metal, he would always find himself drawing next to you. Peter Parker was no stranger to keeping secrets. It was, after all, the epitome of his double life. A mask, a costume, a name that wasn't his at all. There was one secret, however, that even the Spider-Man's mask couldn't cover—his growing infatuation towards you.

It started out really simple. You decided to give back the nerdy boy's pencil in sophomore year and defended him from Flash Thompson in his junior year, it was all simple really, something a person with decency and was taught with proper manners would do. But Peter took it as more than that.

Candid photos here and there, purposefully falling of his skateboard so you would help him, cryptic notes in your locker, sometimes a random flower if Peter was lucky to find any.

Limerence, as some might say

The first people who would ever notice Peter's strange behavior where the people who raised him. Uncle Ben would notice this girl in the screen of his nephew's computer, so did Aunt May when she saw many polaroid photos of the same face underneath Peter's bed. Peter shrugged it off, saying the same exact words to the both of them.

'she's just a crush'

Peter Parker was very good at being hidden in the open. Sure, he didn't want to be invisible, but it is what it is. One of the self-working "losers" with horrible punchlines and pretty much the face screaming "nerd". Well, it didn't bother Peter much. He had many other more important things to think about. You

It's been years now. It was already the last year of senior year, graduation was already nearing, still, he hasn't mustered up the courage to do speak to you, afraid that you won't reciprocate the same feelings he has. His been watching you from a distance, stealing glances in class and making mental notes on all the little things you did, like doodling on the corners of your notebooks or, how you tucked your hair behind your ear when you were concentrating. He knew that it was weird, creepy even, but Peter couldn't stop himself.

So, when Mr. Warren announced a paired project for biology, Peter's internal monologue kicked into overdrive.

"Pair work begins today," Mr. Warren said, his smile a gruff overture that still Peter thought unnecessary. "Choose your partners wisely, just choose somebody you will along with. You can really screw up over this project if you don't!"

The room broke out into a low buzz as students shuffled their chairs and moved toward their friends. Peter didn't move. He never did. Choosing a partner was like finding a needle in a haystack type of task for him

Alright, Pete, it is not such a big deal. You are not going to end up with her or anything. Just relax, find someone cool, and—

"Peter!"

Your voice broke through his thoughts, and he looked up to see you in front of his desk, clutching a notebook to your chest

"By any chance do you have a partner? My friends kind of made their own pairs" you asked, your lips curving into an easy smile.

Peter blinked. His brain short-circuited.

"N-nope. I'm totally solo. Flying solo. A lone wolf. A…"

"Awesome! Then let's team up."

Peter turned to you, his mind racing, he blinked, trying to absorb this. You were choosing him? He nodded frantically; his heart was hammering at a top speed that he was convinced you could hear it

You smiled at him, you fucking smiled at him

For the rest of the class Mr. Warren instructed everyone to plan for the project for the rest of the class. You kept bouncing ideas back and forth, and Peter felt a strange, thrilling sensation of in his heart. You were funny, clever, and surprisingly very easy to communicate with. Every time you laughed at one of his jokes, he felt like he was soaring.

When the bell rang, you packed your things and turned to him. "We should work on this at my place. Tomorrow after school?"

Peter nearly dropped his notebook. "Uh, yeah. Totally. I mean, yes. That works. Perfect. So super normal."

You laughed again. "Cool. Here's my address."

And with that, you scribbled it on a scrap of paper and handed it to him before walking away, leaving Peter frozen in his seat.

That night, Peter was sitting in his room staring at the address. To most people, that was just a little detail, probably not even worth a second thought. But to Peter, it was an invitation, or perhaps a key, even just for a second to get into your life. To know every little thing about you

Unfortunately, though, that's not enough.

He felt his hands shaking as he opened the drawer in his desk to reveal a small trove of hidden treasures; poorly taken pictures of you from a distance, bits of paper that you had thrown away during math class, and a small stash of hair strands that he meticulously collected from your hair comb when you weren't looking

This was love, wasn't it? The desperate consuming desire to be around her, to know everything about you.

And tomorrow, he shall get his chance.

You invited him, but Peter just knew it was really more than what you would ever willingly give.

His love was a web, and you were stepping into it, one delicate thread at a time.

Peter stood outside your house with a crumpled piece of paper clutched in his rather sweaty hand. The address on it was correct, but doubt clouded him. What if she had forgotten about this meeting? What if this was simply a joke? No, she would never do that, he tried to convince himself

Peter Parker was standing at your porch. Each thump of his heart sounded like one of the drums in the music club. He raised his hand to knock, hesitating for a moment. Maybe it was a terrible idea to come here after all; he could fake being sick, sending her an apology while rescheduling. Just then, the door swung open before he even had the chance to run.

"Hey, you found my house, I actually thought you would get lost cause I wrote the wrong color of the rooftop on the note" you said while stepping aside to let him enter.

"I was actually hesitant to knock, because it didn't look like the description" He quietly said. You actually got everything right, I was just being a huge pussy so I didn't come immediately, he thought to himself.

"Come in. I have started working on the diagram."

Peter plasted a grin and forced his legs down inside. "Well, look at you. Overachieving already. I guess I'll just sit back and let you do all the hard work."

You rolled your eyes and laughed, your voice making him feel that the world wasn't so bad after all. "Nice try, Parker. Grab a marker. You're on label duty."

"Come on, we can work in the dining area," you said, leading him across the house.

The dining table was already loaded with supplies, with textbooks scattered everywhere, colored pencils, sheets of poster paper, you name it. You positioned herself and gestured to him to join you.

You fell into a rhythm, your hand sketching the parts of the circulatory system while Peter scrawled out the labels in his neatest handwriting. He cracked jokes every few minutes, drawing out your laughter like a lifeline. It would be so easy to lose himself in the moment, pretend that you both were just two friends hanging out and not a guy hopelessly infatuated with someone who didn't even know half the truth about him.

Both of you had a relatively smooth first hour of working, few questions were asked here and there on the project. Peter kept his answers short, being extra cautious with what to share, but it seemed you did not mind. You sketched diagrams, jotting down notes with an ease that made Peter's hands tremble every time he made an attempt to help.

"So Peter," you suddenly announced after the silence, "why is it that you don't talk very much? At school I mean"

The question staggered him, rendering him blank while the colored pencil just hovered above the page.

Peter jerked up his head and looked surprised. "What do you mean? Talking is what I do. I mean, there's even people begging me to stop."

You smirked but didn't let it down. "I mean really, you're funny but I know nothing about you. What's your thing, Peter Parker?"

He didn't answer immediately but fiddled with the marker. "I'm just… some guy. Pretty boring, honestly. Not much to tell."

Your expression softened, "I don't buy that. You're not boring".

Your words made Peter's chest tighter. He wanted to believe you, yet the voice at the back of his mind reminded how wrong youwere. If you only knew the real him, the guy who had spent countless nights staring at your window, memorizing your every move, you wouldn't be smiling and sitting here before him.

"Hey, don't overthink it. You're cool. Let's just finish this masterpiece, okay?" you said, flicking his arm before he could answer.

Peter smiled forcedly

And when they finished the day's work, you walk him to the door once more, your smile as warm as ever.

"Thanks for coming over," you said. "You're actually a pretty decent partner, Parker."

"Decent?!" Peter gasped, clutching his chest in mock offense. "Wow. Don't hold back; tell me how you really feel."

And you laughed, shaking your head. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Peter waved. You waved back at him, as he strolled down the street, but he did not go very far. Instead, he found himself across the street in the same place, hidden under the shadow of the oak tree.

you were in your living room again, curled around a blanket and a pillow as you watched whatever was on your screen, your face glowing softly from the light of the television. Peter leaned against the tree with both hands shoved in his jacket pockets and simply watched.

How long he'd been there, he couldn't tell, but he didn't want to leave. This was the closest he ever felt with you, even if you didn't know he was here.

He knew this was crossing the line, but he couldn't help himself. He found himself sneaking into your house. Now he really felt like a robber trying to intrude a home, expect he wasn't really going to steal anything, or so he thought.

It was late at night, you and your family were already asleep at this point

Peter knew that the right thing to do was to head home. He knew for sure that this crossed a line even he wasn't sure he could come back from. But before he could stop himself, he was moving, slipping across the street and into the shadows of your yard.

His palms were slick with sweat as he scanned the side of the house. The metal trellis leading up to your window wasn't very solid, but it would hold him if he was careful.

He carefully climbed the trellis, not putting too much weight on it. And his heart was pounding as he got to your window, his fingers brushing against the cool glass.

It wasn't locked.

At that moment, his body froze. The rational part of him screamed to stop, to climb back down and pretend this never happened. But then his hand was on the window. And that soft sound of it sliding open seemed to be deafeningly loud in the stillness of the night.

He slipped into his feet and landed silently on the carpeted floor. Your room smelled of lavender and something warm and sweet like vanilla. A little bit of moonlight filtered through the curtains and brightened the room in pale silver.

There she was

You laid curled up in your bed, the blankets pulled up to your shoulders, your face peaceful in sleep. Peter’s breath caught in his throat. You looked so serene, so utterly perfect, that it made his chest ache.

He stood there for what felt like an eternity, just watching you. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to feel—satisfaction, maybe, or relief. But all he felt was a strange mix of awe and guilt.

This was wrong.

He knew it.

But he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

He looked around your room, it was full of polaroids of either you or your friends.

He started walking around your room quietly, careful to not wake you up in your slumber, because God knows what will happen if you saw him in your room with all its glory, he couldn't even imagine the disgust on your face.

But one thing caught his eye

Your bathroom was open, and in your bathroom was a basket with what he assumed inside were dirty laundry.

He knew it was disgusting, heck, over the top creep award would probably go to him, but he found himself walking towards the bathroom. It was wrong, but he still did it, he needs to get help, he thought to himself.

One second ago he was walking towards your bathroom, next thing you knew he was rummaging through your dirty laundry, occasionally smelling some of your shirts. He cherished the way your scent overwhelmed his nose, he was in Cloud 9.

While he was rummaging, a little piece of clothing caught his eye. With shaky hands he picked up the piece of clothing, it was your pink underwear with little cherries scattered everywhere as design.

He brought it near to his nose. He suddenly sat down in the neat cold tiles of the bathroom floor, he smelt it as if it was his oxygen.

He let out a small moan. He didn't know if it was an invisible force making him do such things, but he found his hands unbuttoning his pants

Peter Parker sat in the rest room; hand clasped tight around the lacy edge of the pink panty. He took out his hardened length of his boxers. The scent of dirty panties wafted his nose.

He imagined you wrapped around his throbbing cock, he thought of the feeling of your tight little pussy riding his cock, he wanted the sweet nectar from your lips, while having a feast on your quivering hole. His cock throbbed in his palms, his hands were much faster now, stroking his hardened cock. He had to bite his tongue to keep himself from moaning

Why was he doing this? You were literally there, outside the bathroom, sleeping. And Peter was here, out in the open, jerking off to the smell of your used panties

He was drenched in sweat as his hairs stuck to his wet forehead. He fantasized about your perky tits; perfect little nipples erect in anticipation. Pumping the shaft rapidly, imagining you on all fours begging for more, the bounce of your tits while riding him moaning his name like a mantra, Peter, fuck Peter, Peter, oh my God!

Peter was breathing heavily, his release was near, he profusely pumped his manhood, his hands and cock covered in his sticky pre-cum.

He wanted to feel you inside him, want you to quiver in pleasure as he fucks you over and over again.

He felt a sudden wave of pleasure hitting him, before he knew it, he released a flooded torrent of jizz into sticky cum as it scattered all over the floor. He slumped against the wall, heaving as he tried to steady his racing heart. He looked outside the door, finding you in the same spot as you were. You were sleeping oh so peacefully

He gazed at you, his heart full of unfulfilled yearning. He desperately wanted to be part of your world, to be someone you chose to let in. Yet no matter how many jokes he made or how close you seemed; he knew deep in his heart that he was not enough.

A soft sound broke the silence.

Peter's eyes snap to the bed, and his stomach lurch at the realization that you were stirring. Your brows knitted, your breathing started shifting, just as if you were going to wake up.

He immediately threw your panties back into the basket as he stood up and fixed his underwear and pants

He felt panic surging him, he immediately sprinted near the window. It made a loud a thud, now he was fucked

He moved quickly and quietly without thinking as he quietly ran towards the window. Just as you were about to opene your eyes, he slipped stealthily past the fluttering of curtains.

He tried scrambling down the trellis and found the ground, shivering and shaking as he did so.

He was hidden in a shadow corner, looking up towards your window. You were sitting up now, rubbing your eyes and looking around your room with a sleepy confusion.

Peter's chest tightened.

What's the matter with him?

He hurried as he turned away, his footsteps quiet against the pavement

The cool night air wrapped around Peter Parker like a cold, suffocating blanket as he walked back toward his house. Each step seemed to slant further and further as if his sneakers were scuffing wet against the cracked pavement in a slow and deliberate rhythm.

It was as if the world had gone still—entirely quiet. No cars were heard, no distant chatter, no hum of the city. Just Peter, the quiet whistle of wind through leaves, and the pounding thuds of his thoughts.

With that, he shoved his hands deep into his jacket pockets, his fingers curling into tight fists. Replaying the scene, he heard the soft sound of your breathing, the warmth of your room, and the way you stirred in your bed as if you had felt him there.

What the heck are you doing, Parker? He hadn't intended to climb into your room. He hadn't intended for it to get this far. Watching from the shadows was one thing, but tonight… tonight he had crossed a line.

He stopped moving and leaned against the lamppost, his breath escaping him in short, sharp gasps. Above him, the light flickered, shining unevenly across his shadow on the ground.

"This isn't me," he whispered to himself, the voice trembling.

But wasn't it?

Hadn't he been staring at you for years, taking notes while you weren't looking, memorizing all of your movements, laughter, and smiles? He had told himself that it was just harmless admiration from a distance, but now it was clear.

What would you think if you knew?

He sighed, Peter threw back his head and gazed up at the sky. Above him the stars, though cold and distant, seemed on to him— judging him in silence.

With the words of Uncle Ben echoing in his mind, With great power comes great responsibility, Peter winced.

Peter's jaw clamped down. Not great power; not yet. But wasn't all this part of it? Taking responsibility for his actions, owning up to his mistakes before they spiraled uncontrollably out of hand?

It hit him like a gut punch.

He wouldn't ever be able to take it back. Nor would he ever be able to wipe away the fact that he'd violated your space, your privacy, in a way you might never forgive. But he could stop it from going any further. He could ensure that you never found out.

@gloomskulls 2024. DON'T COPY, TRANSLATE OR USE ANY OF MY WORKS HERE OR ANY OTHER WEBSITES. Photos don't belong to me

[yanderestarangel]

So I saw a MSFW picture of Miguel and I had an idea.

Stepfather Miguel x FTM reader. The plot is that stepfather Miguel has been possessive and obsessed with his ftm stepson and the stepson actually enjoyed the older man’s attention.

The main smexy part is that Miguel asks his stepson to give him a pink desert. The reader thought Miguel meant a cake until Miguel pushes him on the kitchen counter and starts eating out his pussy (the pink desert was the readers cunt.)

- 🍒 anon. (You don’t have to do this request if it makes you uncomfortable! Love your works.)

TW: SMUT, EAT OUT, DIRTY THOUGHTS, CHUBBY/DAD BODY MIGUEL, FTM READER, BRAIN ROT, HANDJOB, STEPFATHER X STEPSON.

I think it's cute when anons use emojis to identify themselves (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。

art credit @/marmar0u on twitter (X)

Miguel was a man of forty-three years old, with a poorly groomed beard and some white hair in his locks ─ despite his tall stature he already had a "dad body" physique with a protruding tummy and some rough muscles in his arms and thighs... And now he had entered your family. You didn't like the idea of ​​having a stepfather at first, but what was supposed to be a bad relationship became like a balm for your stressful days.

It was common for the older man to spoil you with expensive gifts like perfumes, clothes and everything you asked for or wanted; your desires were his desires too. Honestly, it seemed like he was more attached to you than his own wife. Miguel protected you from everyone who tried to go against you and you could always count on his soft lap and good hugs at the end of the day. Your stepfather loved having you in his arms, close to him... In his control.

It was obvious to outsiders that Miguel was a man obsessed with you, possessive and jealous. No man or woman could come close to his beloved stepson ─ he used manipulation, threats and even money to keep you all to himself, especially being the only father figure you had in your life. Bringing you close to him with praise for every little thing you did wasn't difficult, especially when you cooked for him.

In the distorted head of your dear stepfather, every dish made for him was a preparation for you to be his little husband one day, perhaps when he would have enough courage to ask for a divorce from your mother; but until then he liked to have control of his body and mind.

── That was supposed to be an ordinary night, the warm afternoon gloom still hung in the air as you walked around the house to prepare dinner since your mother had gone out to visit some of your relatives. You obviously preferred to stay in the company of your stepfather Miguel, who was drinking some beer in the living room armchair and watching every move you made around the kitchen.

He had controlled himself a lot in the last few days and gave you more personal space than he should have, making you even meet new people. Jealousy consumed every fiber of the tanned man's being, leading him to have a simple idea to put you in your place.

"You know boy, I wanted you to make a pink dessert would you give me?" His voice came out hoarse as you watched the older man stand up to his full height, as you saw him smirk mischievously, his adam's apple bobbed visibly, desire pooling in his voice.

You initially agreed innocently, already getting ready to get the ingredients and make a strawberry cake, but soon you felt thick calloused hands on your wrists as he bent you under the cold marble counter and pulled down your shorts along with your underwear ── exposing the pink flesh of your pussy, while you felt his breath mixed with expensive drink. Miguel savored the sight of your exposed little cunt, his hunger growing with each passing second. He lowered his head further, capturing your clitoris between his lips and flicking it gently with his tongue.

"Oh, you taste delicious mi hijo," he moaned against your flesh, suckling and nibbling at your sensitive bud. His hands gripped your thighs harder, spreading you wide open for his pleasure. He paused momentarily, admiring the pink folds of your sex before delving back in, eager to explore every inch of you. His tongue darted inside, teasing and probing, causing your hips to buck deliciously.

"I could eat you out all night, boy... Does it feel good? Is this what you wanted, baby boy?" His fingers dug gently into your thighs, seeking permission with his gaze. As you nodded regardless of whether it is right or wrong he dove back in, licking and sucking your clit with renewed vigor, savoring the taste of you. His tongue danced around, teasing your folds and driving you further into pleasure.

He growled low in his throat, responding to the dominance behind your request. His fingers bit into your flesh harder, claiming ownership as he devoured your pussy. Each thrust of his tongue was a claim, each suckle a promise. An intense heat surged between us, fueling the connection and burning brighter with every pass.

He thrust blindly, driven by a newfound ferocity. The sweetest sound escaped your mouth-your pleas for 'papi'-and he used it to feed his hunger. His free hand reached for his erection, stroking it through his boxers ─ "So you enjoy being ravaged by your papi, mi pequeño?" Miguel purred, his grip on his cock tightening as he watched your reaction.

Each stroke matched the rhythm of his tongue, mirroring the passion between you both.

Every time he swirled it around your clit, his shaft leapt in his hand, pulsating in sync. His tongue lashed at your most sensitive spots, eliciting fresh moans from deep within you.

The combination of stimulation left you gasping under his careful touch; Miguel was determined to send you high... A desperate need to please, to dominate, consumed him entirely. His beard scraped against your skin with each frantic movement, adding another layer to the sensations engulfing you.

His tongue lashed at your clit, twirling it one last time to push you over the edge. His hand pumped furiously, matching the intensity of your release. Watching you climax drove him wild, a surge of pure hunger coursing through him. He pulled away reluctantly, leaving your pussy wet and quivering from the attention. With a final, satisfied stroke, he came undone, splattering onto his stomach. A growl resonated in the air as he relished the view of your satisfaction.

His chest rose and fell heavily, his gaze locked on your flushed face. Victory and possession painted across his features, a silent declaration of his newfound control. Your stepfather leaned down to kiss your dripping slit, a quiet congratulations for reaching a peak only he could provide.

"Next time, it'll be my turn mi hijo... Thanks for the dessert."

[battlekidx2]

“Do you like girls?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you like boys?”

“I don’t know. I think I like TV shows.”

I remember when I was in middle school all the other girls were talking about the guys they liked and I said I didn’t like anyone. I just wanted to do my own thing.

I didn’t really get why I would want to date anyone. I understood friendship, companionship— having someone to share my interests and mutually info dump to sounded cool— but I struggled to understand the appeal of spending every day and every night with someone else. Of holding hands and going on dates. 

This led to a lot of homophobic bullying and a few of them would act disgusted that I might be into them. Constantly acting like I was looking at their boobs and sexualizing them (I never made eye contact with anyone and would frequently look at the wall or space out while looking in their general direction). Or make a big show of not being interested and many other things.

I didn’t get this either. I didn’t know why I would be interested in any of them. They treated me poorly and I thought attraction was something people made up and simply just claimed to feel towards other people.

Just like I never understood celebrity crushes. You don’t know the person so how could you possibly know you liked them? And I never understood how people “chose” who they dated. Did they just choose whoever they liked hanging out with the most?

But any time I voiced this it was always met with worse and worse reactions. It led to isolation among peers and my family. My parents made it pretty clear I wasn’t who they wanted me to be. That I wasn’t normal.

I soon learned to fake it. Pretend I understood it.

The idea of not being attracted to anyone seemed like a foreign idea to most people I met. Even when I branched out and moved away, I met a few people in the lgbt community who couldn’t grasp it either and reacted poorly and it made me feel stupid. Like maybe I wasn’t just screwed up to people who fit in the neat little box society wants you to fit in, but to everyone else as well.

Maybe I was wrong. If it’s an impossibility even in this community that champions diversity and acceptance then can that really be my reality?

I kept trying to force it. To date, but every time I did I always felt that same skin crawling discomfort and it always petered out. It didn’t matter who it was or what gender. It always felt wrong. It was suffocating.

I don’t think there’s a movie that better portrays that all consuming, suffocating stagnation of feeling so out of place– knowing you’re out of place compared to those around you– and in response forcing yourself to fit what other people expect of you than I Saw the TV Glow.

Whenever I think back to growing up or whenever I return home that same feeling this movie is centered around always drenches my experiences.

And even now it’s hard to put into words when I talk to other people what I’ve felt when it comes to this aspect of my life.

That comment from Owen about knowing there’s nothing there when talking about romance and attraction, but being too afraid to look and knowing that his parents know something is wrong with him hit harder than any other scene from a movie I’ve watched this year.

It’s that absence of something that is at the heart of asexuality that makes me always question what I choose to identify as when I have to explain it to someone. Because for the most part my explanation boils down to (in broad oversimplified terms): I’ve never felt attraction, I’m more interested in watching a Spider-Man movie than I’ve ever been into even just the idea of dating, every time I’ve attempted to date it’s been uncomfortable and I’ve actively dodged anything beyond friendship while in the “relationship”.

And when I try to voice that to another person it always feels like those experiences don’t hold water. That’s describing the absence of something. There’s no real proof of the identity.

With being bi or gay or lesbian there’s something you can I don’t know—point to?— that can help you know your identity.

And that’s the fact that you’ve experienced attraction towards one or more people of one or more genders.

It’s defined not by the lack of something but the presence of an experience.

And so every time I try and explain it I end up feeling stupid. Like I just haven’t tried hard enough to find someone compatible. That I need to get back into the proverbial saddle and try again. I always in some way feel ashamed and backtrack as a result.

This is in no way to say that it’s harder or easier to be one identity or the another. Everyone’s experiences are different and everyone experiences are valid. This is just a struggle I’ve found that’s unique to asexuality that many people I’ve talked to have also experienced.

I haven’t felt that part of my experience be seen in media until I saw this movie. Maybe I’m latching onto what I can get or maybe that was an intrinsic part of the movie. That’s not important. What’s important is that it’s something I felt seen in even if it was literally just one scene.

This is my really long winded and roundabout way of saying that I really think this movie is going to stick with me much longer than any other thing I’ve seen this year.

Things can be hard to put into words and as a result I tend to keep things inside. I’m fairly certain I’m ace but it might turn out I’m on a different romantic spectrum then I thought or I fall somewhere different than I thought on the ace spectrum. I don’t know what I’ll discover in the future.

I’m likely not going to express my label out loud to anyone but a select few. I still can’t express this particular label out loud to many people. My family is definitely never going to hear it. A friend or two might.

It’s something I struggle with on a regular basis. I’m fine with identifying with the label in my head—in a lot of ways it makes me feel comfortable and happy— but any time I try to voice it the words die in my throat and I can’t help but feel ashamed. It’s easier to just tell people I don’t want to date right now. That there are all these factors in the way (finances, time, jobs, etc) than it is to try and explain what I’ve just rambled about above.

I know many people have felt and understood that experience and I hope people know they’re valid. You can express your identity with your full chest, shout it from the rooftops and let people know, or you can keep it to yourself, identifying as your label solely in your head. Both experiences are valid. And if your label changes at some point in your life that doesn’t make what you chose to identify as at this point any less valid too. People are always learning and growing. You can gain a new understanding of yourself as time move forward.

Sorry for the way too long ramble. This movie made me feel things.

[httpdwaekki]

worship | s.c.

summary: you don’t feel beautiful but changbin shows you just how beautiful you are.

wc: 4.6k

warning: SMUT 18+ (MDNI), tall!chubby!afab!reader, praise kink, body worship, negative self-talk, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap in), oral (read rec), nipple play, aftercare, tried to keep it as gender neutral as possible but written as afab!reader, probably more, read at your own risk.

a/n: minors and ageless blogs DNI. i will be blocking anyone that interacts with this post that is a minor/ageless blog. okayyyy, this is my first smut and i of course had to write it about my favorite boy <3 let me know what you think! anyway, i hope you enjoy! remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3

my library

(pictures are not mine! credit to owners!)

you weren’t always the most comfortable in your skin growing up. you were taller, and on the chubbier side for as long as you can remember. it always bothered you, you got treated differently from your skinnier friends.

you got stares not only for your height but your weight, you certainly didn’t get approached by boys and if you did they were trying to use you to get to your friends. you got used to it, you got depressed, and got into a really dark place.

but you slowly realized that if no one was gonna love you for you, then you were going to have to. and that’s what you did, you embraced every roll, every curve, every stretch mark. and you loved yourself like no else has. but then you met one seo changbin.

and if you thought no one could love you more, you were very mistaken. he proved to you everyday how much he loved you, every flaw, every strength, every high, every low. his love was truly unconditional.

and as much as he showed you how much he loved you, you were of course going to have your bad days. days where you don’t feel good about yourself, where you want to hide from the world, where you feel so uncomfortable in your own skin you almost wish you could rip it off.

and that’s exactly how you felt today. you laid on your couch in the biggest shirt you had, with an even bigger blanket around you, swallowing you into a fuzzy cocoon.

you were barely watching what was playing on the tv in front of you when you heard the familiar sound of the lock of your front door clicking, signaling it being unlocked. you know exactly who it was, you didn’t even have to move. you knew he was showing up sooner or later to figure out why you hadn’t been acting like yourself.

he had tried to ask but you shut him down every time. you knew he was busy and you didn’t want to burden him with your issues and especially when you knew the feelings would pass sooner or later.

you hear him lock the door once more before taking his shoes off and setting his bag down. he then makes his way into your living room finding you in your cocoon, long legs curled up as much as they could be. you look up at him, big eyes reflecting the forgotten show on your tv.

your eyes follow him as he makes his way, squatting next to your cocoon. he raises a hand, brushing the soft surface of your chubby cheeks, “hi my baby.” he coos, eyes bright, finally getting to see his favorite person. “hi bin.” you mumble, leaning into his warm touch.

“you wanna tell me what’s been going on, hm?” you feel your face heat up, bringing your hands up to cover your face, inherently halting his movements and touch.

“hey, baby, look at me,” he gently grabs your hands, holding them in his. “what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, hm?” you shake your head, feeling all of the emotions you’ve been trying to ignore. “baby i can’t help if you don’t talk to me.” thumbs slowly stroking the back of your hands.

“i just don’t feel beautiful right now, bin.” you whisper, shaking your head. “and i know it’s just my brain being mean but fuck bin, it hurts and i don’t want to believe it but it’s so hard when it’s me.” you’re staring at your connected hands, avoiding the eyes of the man in front of you.

he lets go of one of your hands, gently placing it under your chin to lift your eyes to his. “you gotta tell me when you feel like this, okay?” he pauses. “you are the most beautiful, gorgeous person i’ve ever laid my eyes on.” he places a gentle kiss to your hand.

“will you tell me what’s going through your head so i can prove it wrong?” you think about it for a moment, the one person in your life that always makes you feel loved and seen is asking to show you how much he loves you. and who the hell are you to say no.

“i just,” you pause, moving to sit up, crossing your legs in front of you, binnie’s hands laying on top of them. “i hate that my thighs are so big or that my stomach is pudgy or i’m so fucking tall and i just wish that i loved the way i looked because i fucking hate feeling this way.” you must admit, it did feel good to finally get it off your chest, it however didn’t quiet your brain or the negative thoughts that continued to run rampant through them.

“will you let me show you how gorgeous you are?” he asks, rubbing the exposed skin of your calf. you looked into his eyes once more, finding nothing but love and sincerity. you nod your head slightly, before he moved to his knees before you,

he grabs your cheek once more, bringing you closer before placing his lips on yours. he’s placing gentle strokes on your cheek with his thumb, as his lips move against yours. he eventually starts to move further down, kissing the length of your jaw, down to the sweet spot, just below your ear.

he stays there for a moment, interchanging between kissing and sucking the soft skin, pulling light whimpers from you. “look at you, sounding so pretty for me already.” he praises before placing one last kiss, moving to his feet.

he grabs your hand, pulling you from the couch and your warm cocoon. “if i’m gonna show you, i’m gonna do it right.” he says before picking you up with ease, taking you to your bedroom where he lays you on the bed.

“move to the middle, bunny.” he requests, tapping the side of your thigh. you do as he says, laying in the middle before he moves to hover over you. “look at you, my pretty baby.” he kisses your jaw once more, moving down for the second time. this time he starts placing kisses down your clothed sternum.

once he reaches your belly, he lifts your shirt up, just enough, to expose it to him. he starts placing slow, loving kisses over each roll and curve the soft surface has to offer. “you see this gorgeous tummy? so soft just for me. it holds all of the important things your body needs to keep you with me.” he starts, still placing kisses.

“and hopefully will one day carry our mini me into the world.” your eyes soften, hands finding their way into the soft raven curls that lay atop his head. “you’re gonna make me cry.” you mumble, scratching softly at his scalp. “it’s true though.”

he gives your stomach one last kiss before moving your shirt up once more. this time exposing your bare breasts to him. “and these,” he pauses, bringing his hands up to sofft brush the sides. “god these are so fucking perfect jagi.” he places kisses around each nipple, softly brushing his lips against them.

“the perfect pillows, so soft and the noises you make when i touch them?” he takes a nipple into his mouth, gently sucking it, his tongue flicking the peaked bud. you let out a high pitched moan, tighten the grip on his hair slightly, resulting in a satisfied hum from the man above you.

“so fucking pretty baby.” he says before moving the next bud, gently rolling the previous one between his fingers. repeating the same process, you let out another moan, squeezing your thighs together, feeling the wet spot in your panties getting bigger.

he finally releases your nipple placing a kiss to each one before he leans back. “sit up for a second.” you sit up, allowing him to take the shirt off before he moves you to lean comfortably against the pillows. he places a kiss to the side of your mouth before moving to your shoulder, kissing all the way down your arms, until he reaches you hand entwining your fingers.

“and these arms, that hold me with such love and care.” he kisses your other arm. “and take care of me so well, whenever i need it most.” he places a kiss to each shoulder and each hand before positioning himself between your legs. not before gving your tummy a few extra kisses on the way down.

he starts by kissing your panty line, placing a kiss on the now obvious wet spot. you let a soft sigh before looking down, catching a glimpse of the obvious proud smirk on his pretty face. “ and don’t even get me started on these fucking legs.” he sits back on his heels, grabbing one leg, placing a kiss on the inside of your knee.

“so fucking long, and beautiful, god you have no idea what they do to me.” he grabs the other one, placing a kiss in the same place. “now for my favorite part, your beautiful thighs.” kissing up the inside of them, nipping the skin, right next to where you needed him the most.

“look at them baby, so big and beautiful,” he switches to the other side. “and they way they feel wrapped around my head while i’m making you feel good?” his arms coming up to caress the sides of them. “i could stay like that all day jagiya.” he places one last kiss to each one, before bringing a hand up to gently rub the wet spot on your pink panties.

“and my favorite treat, so ready and so fucking pretty for me as always baby.” he places soft kisses to the wet fabric before sitting up, tapping your hip, signaling you to lift them. he quickly slides them off, throwing them some place in the room before moving back between your plush thighs.

he wraps his arms around your hips, pulling you forward a bit, finally settling there. he brings one hand back around to spread you wet lips. “always ready for me, huh bubs?” he lightly blows, making you whine a bit. “i know baby, i know. i just wanted to look at my pretty baby for a little bit.”

he brings his arms back to rest around your soft thighs before placing a kiss to your inner thigh, slowly making his way to your pussy. placing light kisses to your lips before finally placing a kiss to your bundle of nerves. you whimper at the minimal stimulation, “binnie, please.” you beg, looking down to find that same proud smirk on his face.

“my pretty baby feeling needy?” he teases, still lightly pressing kisses to your clit. you nod, pouting, hoping he’ll cave and give you what you want. “okay jagi, i’m sorry.” he gives your clit one last kiss before licking a stripe from your dripping hole, to your sensitive clit.

your back arches slightly, mouth agape, at the feeling of finally getting the stimulation you’ve been waiting for. your hand finds his raven curls once more as he then fully takes your clit in his mouth, alternating between sucking and flicking the sensitive bud.

you moan, lightly scratching his scalp, as he continues his work on your bud. “feels good baby?” he asks, mouth still against you. you nod, another moan leaving your mouth as he gently grazes you clit with his teeth.

you feel a finger rub at your entrance before he fully inserts it, curling it slightly. your hand tightens around his curls for a moment, as a whine leaves your mouth. “more please.” you beg, feeling the knot in your tummy already begin to tighten. “patience baby, i got you.”

he adds a second finger, picking up the pace slightly, causing your legs to tighten around him. the way he’s using your clit and hitting that sweet spot perfectly feels euphoric. “binnie,” you moaned, “i’m close.” you warned, back arching off the mattress, hand tightening in his curls once more.

this only prompts him to quicken his movements, sucking on your clit a little harder. your whimpers and moans get louder and louder as you get closer and closer to your release. “please,” you beg, teetering on the edge of cumming. “binnie, don’t stop, i’m so close.” you whimper, your free hand coming up to play with your peaked bud.

“you gonna cum pretty?” he asks against your clit. you moan a small “mhm” telling him all he needs to know. “so cum baby, let me see how pretty my baby looks when i’m making them feel good.” that sends you over the edge, throwing your head back, thighs tighten around his head, fingers tightening in his hair as you cum.

he works you through your high, taking out his fingers, taking all you have to offer. your fingers release his hair, relaxing back into the mattress as you come down. you whimper as he still flicks your sensitive bud with his tongue. you push his head away softly, feeling slightly overstimulated.

“give me one more pretty.” he says, inserting his fingers once more. “let me make you feel good, baby.” his movements are quicker this time. your noises becoming high pitched as you get closer to your second release.

“binnie!” you cry, legs shaking slightly at the stimulation. he adds a third finger, stretching you even more. “there you go my pretty baby,” he continues his work before speaking again, “looking so beautiful for me.” his mouth back on you, moving with fever to get you to your release once more.

“ah!” you wail. “binnie-“ you cut yourself off with a load moan. “come on gorgeous, let go, show me how beautiful you are.” you’re cumming again, legs shaking, tightening around his head once more. both hands grabbing your boobs as your back arches off the bed.

“there you go, good job baby, did so good.” he says as you finally relax into the mattress once more. your breathing heavily, trying to regain your composure as he pulls out his fingers. he places a slow, soft kiss to your clit before placing one to each of your inner thighs.

he sits up, licking his fingers before hovering over you once more. he kisses you, tasting yourself slightly on his tongue. “so beautiful baby.” he says against your lips. “always sound so pretty when you cum.” he kisses you again. “you look even prettier.” he kisses you once more before leaning back, taking off his shirt, throwing it somewhere in the room.

you take in the beautiful man in front of you, aching once again even after two orgasms. you sit up, leaning forward, pulling him into a feverous kiss, hands finding his pecs, working their way down to his abdomen. you make your way down his neck, finding his own sweet spot, pulling a groan from him.

you whine as he pulls you away, pout present on your swollen lips. “i know jagi but this is about you, not me.” he brings a hand back to your soft cheek, caressing it once more before placing a quick kiss to the other one. “lay back down bunny.”

he gets off the bed as you lay back down against the pillows. you watch as he slides his pants down, stepping out of them, kicking them to the side. he grabs the waistband of his boxers, pulling it down, releasing his hard length, thick and leaking against his soft tummy.

you squeeze your thighs together as he tosses the fabric to the side. he climbs over you once again, this time carefully spreading your legs, leaning down to place a kiss to your inner thighs “so beautiful.” mumbles against your soft skin before placing a gentle kiss to your clit, making you jolt from the contact.

he kisses his way back up you body, sparing extra kisses to your soft tummy, and of course one to each nipple. he kisses up your sternum, up your throat to jaw before he pulls away to look at you. you swear you could see hearts in his eyes as he looked down at you.

“hi pretty.” he whispers, eyes gleaming. his hand was resting on the bed next to your head, the other one rubbing small circles on your plush thighs that laid upon his. “hi bub.” you whisper back, face warm. “how’re you feeling, hm?” you smile at his question, bringing your hand up to rest on his puffy cheek.

“really good jagi, thank you.” he smiles, pressing a deep kiss to your lips. he leans against you, his body pressing against you. you feel his hard length slide between your wet folds, brushing against your bundle of nerves.

you let out a soft moan against his lip, as he pushes your thigh to the side, allowing him more access to your core. his lips never leaving yours as he rubs little circles on your clit. you pull away, letting out a whimper as he continues his movements.

“feel good, jagi?” he asks, capturing your lips once more. you nod against him, your hand coming up to grip his bicep. he pulls away once more, but continues rubbing circles to your sensitive nub.

“you ready my baby?” you nod, another moan falling from your lips. “i gotta hear you say it, bunny.” you whine. “i’m ready binnie, please i need you.” satisfied with your answer he places another kiss to your swollen lips and his lines up to your entrance.

your mouth falls open and he pushes into you, your grip tightening around his bicep. “fuck.” you whisper against his lips. he’s stretching you out in the best way possible. he’s stills once he’s fully in, giving you a moment to adjust.

his hand rests on your hip, softly caressing your skin as you adjust to his size. he’s placing kisses to the side of your mouth, your jaw, your cheek before he places his forehead against yours. “you okay, pretty?” you nod against his forehead.

“i’m so okay, you have no idea.” you giggle, causing him to smile. “i’m gonna move now okay?” you nod once again. “okay.” you confirm, your body relaxing into the mattress below you. he places one last kiss to your lips before sitting up a bit.

he places one hand on your plush thigh while the other grabs your waist. he pulls out just to fully push back in, pulling a moan from you. “fuck bin, oh my god.” your hand once again finding the soft flesh of your chest. “that’s it baby, sound so pretty while i’m making you feel good.”

he’s slowly thrusting into you, drinking in the way your body reacts to him. he picks up the pace slightly, “play with your pretty nipples for me baby.” you do as he says, clenching around him and you play with the hard buds. “fuck bunny, you’re squeezing me so good.” he moans, throwing his head back for a moment.

he looks godly above you, you arch your back at the sight causing him to hit that sweet spot inside of you. you let out a particularly high pitched moan at the feeling, causing him to snap his head back down, catching the sight of you arched infront of him.

he slows down, reaching for an extra pillow that you’re not leaning against. you let out a whine, relaxing your back. “relax jagi, i’m just getting you a pillow.” he pulls out and taps your hip. “lift up for me baby.” you lift your hips and he slides the pillow under you.

“okay bunny, lay back down.” you lay back into the mattress, and he pushes your legs open once more. “my pretty bunny is so obedient.” he leans down, arm next to your head as he kisses you. he rubs your sensitive clit once again, pulling whimper from you.

“just like that, look at this beautiful body. jagi.” he says against your lips, still rubbing little circles on your clit. “so soft and perfect, just for me.” you bring your hands back up, one on your tit the other wrapping around his shoulder.

“binnie please.” you beg, needing to be filled again. “i got you baby don’t worry.” he stops his movements on your clit to line himself once more, slowly pushing in. the new angle making it feel intoxicating as he pushed into you.

“oh fuck, baby, fuck.” you cried, digging your nails into his shoulder. “yeah? that feel good?” he starts thrusting into you. “my baby is making such pretty noises for me.” you’ve lost your train of thought, your mind only filled with binnie and the way he’s making you feel right now.

“oh-, bin-, fuck-“ you couldn’t get a coherent sentence out. truly being fucked dumb by the man above you. “that’s it bunny, just empty that pretty little brain of yours.” he slid his arm under your neck, pressing his body into yours. he brought his other hand to your clit, rubbing small circles as he increased his pace.

“oh god! binnie!” you wail, your legs wrapping around his waist. “wrap those pretty long legs around me bunny, there you go.” he places kisses along your jaw, both your arms wrapped around him, pulling him impossibly closer. one hand finding its way into his hair, as you turn your head into him.

“oh my god.” you groan into his ear, pulling at his hair slightly. “my beautiful baby feels so good for me.” he moans in your ear, causing you to clench around him. he groans, “fuck, you like when i call you my beautiful baby?” you cry out, nodding against him.

“is my pretty bunny about to cum?” your toes curl, feeling that familiar knot tightening in your tummy. “yes, yes, i’m-“ you cut yourself off with a cry, it’s almost too much pleasure, almost. “you’re close jagi i know, fuck.” his breathing getting heavier and heavier letting you know he’s close too.

“can you hold on for me?” you let out a high pitched whine. “i know pretty, just a little longer.” you whine again. “you can’t-“ you cut yourself off, trying to focus on anything but how good his making you feel. “you can’t, tell me to wait-“ you let out a moan, “and then call me pretty- oh fuck.” you feel it getting tighter, seconds away from snapping.

“i can’t, why not pretty? hm, cause my gorgeous baby is about to cum? is that it?” you cry out at his words, his teasing only egging you on. he leans down to your ear, still keeping his pace, hitting your sweet spot and rubbing your clit so deliciously. “so then cum bunny. show me how fucking perfect my jagiya is.” that’s all it takes, you let out a scream, the pleasure overwhelming you.

“fuck!” you tighten your legs around him, as much as you can as they’re shaking, toes curling as your orgasm rips through you. nails digging into his shoulder as you grab onto whatever you can to keep you grounded. “good job pretty, that’s my baby.” he’s fucking you through your high as you feel his hip stutter.

“fuck, bunny.” his thrusts are getting sloppy, knowing he’s close. “give it to me binnie. show me how much you love me.” and with that he’s cumming in your pretty pussy. he gives a few more thrusts before he stills in you, laying on top of you.

you both lay there, catching your breath, coming down from your highs. you’re the first to move, arms still wrapped around him, carding your fingers through his hair, placing kisses on the side of his head. he finally ground’s himself, placing a kiss to your shoulder, before moving to hover over you, your hands falling, landing on the back of his neck.

he looks down at you with nothing but love as he places his hand to your cheek, gently rubbing it. “you are so beautiful, my love.” your face warms once again. “thank you binnie, i love you.” he leans down, capturing your lips in a deep kiss.

“i love you more my perfect jagi.” he says against your lips, causing a smile to spread across them. “i’m gonna pull out now okay? then we’ll get cleaned up and relax.” you nodded, stealing a quick peck before he leaned back, your legs falling onto the mattress as he pulled out. he hissed as he did, pulling a small whimper from you at the emptiness.

he, watches as his cum pours out of you, effectively ruining your sheets but he couldn’t care less. he leans down, kissing each thigh again, placing a soft kiss to your swollen clit, causing you to flinch. then your hips, making his way up, kissing every curve and roll on your soft tummy, giving each nipple their own kiss before finally making it back to your lips.

“my gorgeous, gorgeous bunny.” you smile pulling him closer, wrapping your legs around him once again, deepening the kissing. he pulls back, tapping the side of your ass, “come on, let’s get you cleaned up so you can relax.” he moves off the bed, quickly finding his boxers before pulling them back on.

he turns around to find you sitting on the bed, he picks you up bringing you to your bathroom, setting you on the counter. he turns on the bath, making it nice and warm before plugging the drain and putting your lavender bubble bath in.

walking back over to you, he picks you up once again, setting you on the toilet, placing a kiss to your head, “i’m gonna go change the sheets quick, i’ll be right back.” you nod at him, smiling as he makes his exit, closing the door behind him.

you quickly use the bathroom before stepping into the nice warm bath. he opens the door 10 minutes later, with towels, setting them on the counter before removing his boxers. you move forward as he approaches the tub to give him enough room to sit behind you.

once in the tub he pulls you back to him, wrapping his arms around you, showering you in kisses once more. you grab both hands, entwining his hands with yours, giving each hand a kiss, “thank you, for everything.” you turn your head to look back at him. “you’re the best person i know and i really don’t know what i’d do without you.”

he pulls you into another kiss before you relax against him once more. “you never have to thank me for telling the truth.” he pauses. “all i ask is that you tell me when you’re feeling like this so i can show you just how truly beautiful you are.” you feel a lump in your throat form at the love you feel for the man behind you.

you nod your head. “okay, i promise.” he holds you tighter, hands still connected, placing a kiss to your hair. you both stay like then until the water runs cold, draining it before you both get out, putting on the minimum amount of clothes.

making your way to your bed, with clean sheets, where you both spent the rest of the night in each other’s arms, relaxing. you’re always gonna have bad days but it’s comforting to know you’re favorite person will always be there to help you through it and make it all better.

do not repost

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Ten: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink (Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, oral, dick piercing, spit, back shots, GEN. SMUT[Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin is so annoyed with his mother. He discovers something and Ghost has plans for it. [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: August 16th

I thought for sure you’d kick me to the curb. But just like always, you never fail to amaze me. You like the side of me that no one else does, you like both of me, that’s a miracle if I’ve ever seen one.

I don’t even like both of me.

You chose me, for whatever reasons you might have, pure curiosity or genuine care and interest… I don’t really care. All I care about is that you chose me. You want me. Me. All of me.

You’re choosing both of me. Separately. But soon you’ll love both sides of me, you’ll love me as a whole. That’s something no one has ever given to me. No one has ever wholly loved me, partially because I’ve never shown anyone all of me, partially because I used to fail miserably at balancing the black and white of my being.

Anakin the perfect boyfriend and future husband deserves your daylight love. Ghost the purposely imperfect and probably less than sane guy deserves your midnight curiosities.

I like this. Separating myself this way, it’s more manageable. I’ve tried for years and years to just be Anakin who is always pretending to be the man of the year, but is still just a tad too… off putting.

To everyone back home, I’ll always be the strange guy who only had two friends, himself and the neighbor kid who was only such good friends with him because they grew up in close proximity.

Anakin, the weird kid who didn’t know how to smile properly.

Anakin, the creep who stared too much, not at anything inappropriate. I wasn’t leering at women or anything, it’s just creepy for people to be looked at by someone who has ‘dead eyes’ and ‘doesn’t blink enough’.

Anakin, the ‘well he’s trying’ boy. The poor little guy who brought Brianna a handful of nettles on the playground, tied together with worms. ‘He meant well! He’s trying to be nice sweetie.’

Anakin, the ‘turn out your pockets before you come inside’ kid. You come home with a dead squirrel in your hoodie pocket once and your mother will never trust you not to have another stashed somewhere.

‘hey, it’s not that I don’t think you’re great! I do! You’re just not… great for me.’

‘please don’t look at me like that, it makes me uncomfortable’

‘Get away from my yard, I know what you’re doing!’

‘Who’s cat is that? Anakin! Where did you get this?’

‘Ani, you can’t keep doing this. I can’t protect you forever!’

‘Don’t you want to have friends? A girlfriend? To grow up and have a family? Don’t you want that?’

I was always Anakin-weird as hell, psycho, town freak-Skywalker.

In your daylight love I can be Anakin-nice guy, perfect smile, warm hugs-Skywalker.

I can shove everything else into The Pit until I’m ready to put on that Ghostface mask and take off my mask of normalcy. Weird isn’t it? Putting on a mask just to take off another one?

I like it though. I really like it.

I can be normal for you. I can. I can be normal. As long as Ghost can be let out of The Pit sometimes. No more balancing on the edge for Anakin. No more hiding and pretending and suffocating myself with the act of being a person.

If I can flood Anakin with all the things I’ve learned over the years, all the knowledge I’ve stored away in my mind’s filing cabinets… then you can have the man you deserve.

You’ll just have to come to terms with the fact that once Ghost makes his appearance, your Anakin is gone until further notice.

I think you’ll do well with that. You’re already handling it swimmingly.

Diary Entry: August 17th

You left me a note of your own this morning, a question I wasn’t expecting in the slightest. When I walked into the kitchen and finally cracked open the diary you’d left laying there for me I was shocked. Absolutely and completely shocked.

‘When are you coming home?’

You’re asking Ghost to visit you? For real? I don’t even know how to react, I never thought you’d be the one requesting the company of my masked presence. I guess giving you an option, proving your feelings and your well-being mattered most to me was the right move.

Now I just have to figure out what I’m going to do. I’ll have to plan. I need to think.

I have to be so much more careful now.

Date

August 18th

This is the first time Ghost hasn’t responded when you’ve contacted him. It’s been three days of nothing. He’s not been inside your house at all, no gifts, nothing has been moved, your cat’s bowl is empty when you get home.

His absence is more unsettling that his presence.

You’re beginning to wonder if you’ve angered him by asking about his next visit, was that the wrong thing to do? Did it freak him out? Asking about his plans… did it make him uncomfortable? Or is he tired of the chase now? Now that you’re interested… is it possible he’s lost the adrenaline rush of it all and he won’t be back at all?

There’s no time to ponder or worry right now, yet here you are staring into the foggy mirror in your bathroom post-shower.

“Hey sweetheart?” Anakin’s cheery voice floated to you from under the door.

“In here!” You called out, opening the door up and wiping off the mirror, grateful to have been pulled out of your mind.

“Want help picking something out?” He asked, wrapping his arms around your middle, pressing his nose to the crown of your head to smell your freshly washed hair.

“Mmm yeah if you want.” You nodded, smiling at him in the mirror.

“You excited?” He grinned, poking your sides to hear you giggle.

“Yeah… a little bit nervous though to be honest.” You confessed.

“What? Why? They’ll like you, I have no doubts.” He said with a reassuring squeeze to your shoulders.

“I know, it’s just… what if they don’t?” You asked nervously, looking away from his intense gaze in the mirror.

“They will.” He whispered kissing your temple.

“But what if they don’t?”

“They will, but, if for some reason they don’t then they’re stupid.” He shrugged his shoulders. “But I know they will okay?”

“But Ani I’m worr-“

“Hey.” He said sharply, catching the words before they could leave your lips. “That’s enough.” He said in a softer tone.

He sighed, grabbing the hair brush from the sink countertop. He started brushing through your wet tangles, starting at the ends and working his way up.

“You’re important to me. They know that.” Anakin whispered, kissing your shoulder. “They know you’re something special, trust me. I’ve never brought anyone to meet them before.”

“Seriously?” You whipped your head around with a horrified expression on your face.

“Yeah seriously.” He nodded. “I’ve never felt like this for anyone else.” He gently directed your head back to face the mirror so he could continue brushing your hair.

“That makes it even worse!” You squeaked, slumping over against the sink, your arms crossed on the cold Formica top with your forehead rested on them.

“Why?” He asked as he sat the brush aside and placed his hand on your back, rubbing up and down the soft fabric of the towel around you.

“I’m the first girl you’re bringing home!” You said exasperatedly, “they’re gonna be expecting someone like… like super great and amazing.”

“You are super great and amazing.” He laughed, squeezing your hip and patting it gently.

“But-“

“Baby stop.” He said softly. “You’re gonna work yourself up all over nothin’. Please, just trust me okay? They’re gonna think you’re perfect.”

“Okay.” You sighed, standing back up and turning around to hug him tightly. “Alright. Let’s get ready then.”

“I’m ready.” He said gesturing to his tight grey crewneck and ripped black jeans. “All fancy and shit.”

“I wouldn’t say fancy, but I would say hot.” You grinned.

“Stop.” He chuckled, “should I go change? I can’t have you drooling over me at the dinner table with my parents.”

“No, no don’t change.” You shook your head with a giggle. “I can wait.”

“You can wait?” He gave you a devilishly toothy smile. “Wait for what darlin’? Does baby need some attention?”

He picked you up and sat you on the sink counter, giving your ass a firm squeeze. Immediately bringing one hand to your cheek, his thumb on your chin, he tilted your head to the side and hovered his lips just over your skin. Barely grazing the softness of his lips up the length of your neck to the dip beneath your ear. His free hand rubbing up and down your side, as he finally pressed a hot, open mouthed kiss to your sensitive flesh.

“My girl only waits when I say so.” He whispered, nipping your earlobe.

He nuzzled into your neck, bringing your ass to the edge of the sink with one arm, using the same hand to slip beneath your towel and travel up your abdomen. The towel fell from where it was tightly tucked at your chest, Anakin’s hand cupping your breast gently as he thumbed at your nipple.

His lips soldered to yours in a passionate caress of lips and tongues, you could taste the minty flavor of the gum he constantly chewed, the forever lingering ghost of cigarettes and the delicious savory flavor that was uniquely him.

He was so good at distracting you with his mouth on yours that he could get away with just about anything and you’d never know until it was too late. Just like now, when you heard his belt buckle clank against the bathroom tiles. You couldn’t help but smile, it was something so simple, but it was one of your favorite things.

The sound will forever be associated with every kiss, every touch, every gasp and breath he’d given you and every intimate moment to come. The jangle of his belt buckle coming loose meant falling apart in his arms, it meant love without saying it aloud.

Anakin snickered as he teased your opening with one finger, swirling it around the outside, never fully dipping inside.

“Greedy little pussy.” His deep bedroom voice never failed to conjure up a gush of slick to your already drenched cunt. “So fucking wet already.”

“Mhm.” You nodded, wiggling your hips closer to his hand or at least you tried to, Anakin held you firmly in place, tsking at your attempt.

“See? Greedy.” He chuckled but gave in anyway, finally pushing in one digit to twirl around your gummy walls while he pumped in and out slowly.

“Can’t help it.” You panted, breathing heavily despite the relief of getting what you wanted, you needed more. “Missed you Ani.”

“Oh poor thing, I missed you too.” He cooed, adding a second finger while he rolled his wrist as he thrusted his fingers deeper.

Just as you were about to speak again, the shrill sound of your phone alarm blared next to you on the counter top, making you both jump.

“Jesus! what the fuck.” He snorted, “pause baby.” He said as he reached over to turn it off and check the time.

“I’m so glad you set shit like that or else we’d never get anywhere on time.” He said with a smile. “Now, hop down and let me bend you over.”

“What we’re doing a quickie?” You teased as you did as requested, sliding off the sink and obediently bending at the waist for him.

“As much as I hate it, yes.” He sighed. “You know I like to take my time.”

He said as he rubbed his rough palm over the swell of your ass, tugging his boxers down with his other hand. He shoved his palm under your chin and tapped your cheek.

“Spit.” His voice was rough and gritty, like he he was straining, fighting not to ram himself into you right that very second.

You spit into his hand, earning a mumbled: “Atta girl.”

He slicked his cock with your saliva, stroking himself quickly with the head of his cock pressed to your entrance, pleasuring himself but just torturing you with the heat of his length.

“Ani!” You whined, pushing your hips back against him.

You’d done exactly what he wanted. The second you pushed back he rammed his cock deep inside your pulsing heat. He set a brutal pace, wrapping one arm around your chest. Your hands instinctively flew up to hold onto his muscled forearm, his grip tightened and you gasped in surprise.

“Christ Anakin.” You breathed out, your eyes wide with shock at this sudden change of pace.

He was a slow and sensual lover, he liked to take his sweet time and caress every curve and kiss every centimeter of flesh that he could reach. But this was completely different, this was pure hunger, hips snapping against your ass at a punishing pace.

His other arm came down your stomach and spread your pussy lips apart to press and pinch the little hard nub that would have you shaking beneath him.

The way he was breathing so heavily in your ear, the hot air fanning over your cheek, it only heightened the feeling. Sending goosebumps down your skin and perking up your nipples again. The sound of your wetness was loud enough to hear with each and every plunge of his cock.

“You like it like this baby?” He chuckled, “sounds like you like it.”

“Uh huh.” You nodded rapidly, gripping his arm tightly as a particularly sharp streak of lightning shot through you.

Your pussy clenched down around his cock and you closed your eyes to concentrate on the feeling the metal jewelry at the tip of his cock gave you as it stroked your insides roughly.

“Making such pretty noises,” he moaned, tilting your head back and to the side using your hair, to properly reach your mouth so he could ravage you with his tongue just as he was with his dick.

“C’mon baby, let me hear it.” He panted, sucking your lip between his teeth.

“That’s it, yeah there’s my girl.” He laughed, watching your eyes roll back until just the whites were visible. Your eyes fluttered shut as your cunt pulsed around him.

“Fuck… Fuck that’s- right there… please?” You whined, trapping his hand right where it was with your fingers digging into his wrist.

“Good manners.” He praised, licking along the length of your jaw. “Good manners baby, so proud.”

“Just like this huh?” He questioned teasingly, a smirk on his lips caught your attention in the foggy mirror. “You like the piercing don’t you baby? Feels good doesn’t it?”

“Fuck yeah.” You moaned, squeezing your eyes shut tight while you waited for him to push you over the edge. “L-love it. Don’t ever fucking take it out again.”

“Sure thing baby.” He snickered. “You ready sweetheart? Getting close aren’t you?”

“You can cum.” He said as you nodded, his forehead now resting on your shoulder as he drilled into you, rolling your clit between his finger and thumb.

The coil that had been wound tightly in your core snapped with his permission, a high pitched groan eeked out from between your gritted teeth, your cunt leaking down his shaft as he fucked you through the high.

“Lean down.” He said as he pulled out abruptly, leaving you gaping and gasping for breath.

“Perfect.” He groaned, one hand on your waist as you pressed your torso against the sink counter.

He stroked his cock wildly, his fingers digging into the plush of your waist, squeezing soothingly when his chin dropped to his chest and he stiffened up, holding his breath. All you could hear was the sound of his slick hand pumping his swollen length over your ass.

Until finally you felt the warm spurts of cum splatter on your skin, the viscous fluid dribbling down your lower spine until it slid over your ass hole.

“Fuck, that looks so damn pretty.” He breathed heavily, standing back to take in his art work.

“I should take a picture.” He whispered, kneeling behind you with a hand under each ass cheek, he licked up his own cum with a satisfied hum.

——————————————————————————

Approximately an hour after Anakin defiled you in the steamy confines of your bathroom, you were walking hand in hand into one of the nicer restaurants on the outer circle of the city. Meeting his mother terrified you, his stepfather not so much. Anakin didn’t grow up with him, he wasn’t a staple of his childhood.

But his mother was. She was a single parent, worked so incredibly hard to provide for herself and her son. She made sure he had everything he needed and then some, she was truly a saint.

“Chill out.” Anakin whispered, squeezing your hand gently. “You’re okay.”

You nodded and silently let Anakin pull you along behind the host who was leading you to the table where his mother and stepdad waited for you both.

You laid eyes on his mother first and the smile that spread across your lips was genuine. As soon as you saw her your worries started to slip into the backseat of your mind. She exuded a calming atmosphere, she seemed so serene and unbothered. What you’d give to live life like that.

You could see where Anakin got his comforting nature from, especially as she stood up and extended her hand to you. The gentle smile and warmth in the crinkle of her eyes was enough to melt your heart.

“I’m Shmi.” She introduced herself in a soft tone, looking to her side where her husband sat. “This is Cliegg, Anakin’s stepfather.” He gave you a nod and warm smile after clapping Anakin on the back in an awkward side hug.

“It’s great to meet you guys!” You chirped, introducing yourself quickly.

“You too sweetie.” Shmi smiled, moving to envelope her son in a hug.

“Hey momma.” Anakin chuckled, squishing her shorter frame in a big bear hug. “Miss ya.”

“Missed you too hon.” She said quietly, patting his chest before returning to her seat.

She gave Anakin a little smile of approval when he pulled your chair out for you to slide into, you wanted to gush about how grateful you were that she’d raised him to be such a gentleman but you got the feeling that she already knew.

The four of you engaged in a bit of small talk while looking over the menu options, you refrained from even picking up the menu, getting an odd look from Cliegg who just chuckled and shrugged his shoulders as if to say ‘suit yourself’. The waiter returned with ice water for everyone and a bottle of wine for the table, getting ready to take orders with their pad and pen at the ready.

After Anakin’s mother and her husband ordered, Shmi looked at you expectantly but you just gave her a small smile as Anakin ordered for the both of you.

“Anakin.” She chided him after the waiter left. “She’s perfectly capable of speaking for herself.”

“I know she is.” He said firmly. “But she shouldn’t have to when I’m perfectly capable of doing it for her.”

“Shmi it’s okay really.” You laughed light, knocking Anakin’s foot with your own as a warning. “I prefer it honestly. I think it’s sweet.”

She gave you an odd look, her face was soft just as it had been the whole night so far, but her eyes conveyed something that you couldn’t quite place.

“Alright sweetie.” She conceded and nodded, the look passing over her eyes just as quickly as it appeared.

Anakin’s arm slid around your waist momentarily to offer some comfort, gently squeezing your hip and tapping his thumb rhythmically while he jumped straight back into the conversation he was having with his stepdad.

“So, Anakin’s told me quite a bit about you.” Shmi said warmly. “He said you’re a waitress and you’re taking classes at the college?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” You nodded happily. “The Bluebird Diner, it’s a real great place. Anakin’s a big fan of the butterscotch pie.” You smiled.

“The college… yes I’m taking classes. They’re all going well but I’m not set on a major yet and it’s getting to be the time that I decide.” You sucked in an anxious breath, giving her a nervous look.

“Well that’s perfectly fine.” She said, surprising you with her acceptance of your unplanned career. “I dropped out after my freshman year and didn’t complete my degree until Anakin was in highschool.” She explained.

“Oh really?” You raised an eyebrow, glancing at Anakin’s side profile while he spoke to his stepfather. “Do you mind if I ask why?”

“Why I dropped out?” She asked, leaning back in her chair. “Well it was for a few reasons. Mostly because it’s difficult to work, educate yourself and raise a child alone.”

“I can imagine it would be.” You agreed with a humored smile, expecting to be met with a similar expression by Shmi.

Though you weren’t, instead she had a strange sort of reminiscent look about her. Not the fuzzy feeling of nostalgic reminiscing, more of a moment of remembering something unpleasant.

“Yes.” She nodded, “Anakin didn’t make it any easier.”

“Oh…” you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at her sudden shift in demeanor.

It seems she noticed your body language change and she quickly corrected herself by breaking out into a smile, sitting back up straighter in her seat.

“But what kid doesn’t?” She laughed lightly, reaching out to pat your hand affectionately.

“Right,” you nodded, chalking up her strange switch up as a mother remembering her rowdy son. It must be hard, seeing him grown up and finally bringing a girl to meet her.

“So how did you two meet?” Shmi asked, turning in her seat to face you fully, giving you her full attention. “Anakin said you’re neighbors?”

“Yeah! Yeah that’s how we met officially.” You nodded.

“Officially?”

“Well we found out after we’d talked a few times that we actually met at the bar he works at.” You explained, “he made a drink for me. I thought he looked like… semi-familiar, you know it’s hard to miss the tattoos.” You smiled.

“Oh that’s very true.” Shmi laughed. “Definitely stands out.”

“Yeah, so we officially met the day he was moving in across the hall from me.”

“Oh you’re telling her about move in day?” Anakin cut in with a big grin on his face.

“Mhm.” You nodded happily, gazing at him with a hint of adoration in your eyes. “Anakin had his stuff strewn out in the hallway and I knocked over a stack of his books.” You laughed and he squeezed your shoulder lightly.

“Yeah, then we chatted for a bit and she noticed a book of mine that she’d lost her copy of, so I gave it to her. That’s how I snatched her up.” He said proudly, gesturing to you with both hands like he was presenting a trophy.

“Huh, who knew you had a little romantic streak?” Cliegg laughed.

“Oh he definitely does!” You agreed eagerly.

“Well Anakin I have to say: I’m extremely impressed you’ve found such a lovely girl.” Shmi said softly, glancing at you with those warm eyes.

“Took you long enough.” His stepdad smacked his upper arm with the back of his hand with a deep laugh.

“Hey, I was holding out for the right one.” Anakin said with a satisfied smile. “I wanted my forever girl and I found her.”

——————————————————————————

The rest of the night went smoothly, no hiccups, no awkward moments, nothing you’d worried about came to fruition. His mother was as sweet as could be and her husband definitely suited her well. All in all, you were happy to have had the opportunity to get to know them. You were proud to be the first girl worthy of meeting them and you were thrilled that they seemed to like you as much as you liked them.

“See? Told you.” Anakin whispered, walking beside you out of the restaurant.

“You were right.” You sighed. “Nothing to worry about.”

“I was what?” He fake gasped, one hand coming up to cover his mouth dramatically.

“You heard me and I’m not repeating it.” You giggled, bumping him with your shoulder.

“Good enough for me princess, I’ll take it.” He smiled, pulling you close and pressing a chaste kiss to your hair.

You said your goodbyes to Anakin’s parents just outside the entrance, a full, loving hug from Shmi and a ‘you’re great but we’re not there yet’ double hand squeeze on one of yours from his stepdad.

You’d just started walk to the car when Shmi called out to Anakin, causing you both to swivel around.

“Ani, sweetheart can you come talk for just a second?” She asked sweetly.

“Oh… yeah okay.” He nodded, handing you the car keys.

“I’ll go see what’s up baby.” He said with a soft tone, “go ahead to the car.”

You followed instructions and did exactly as he asked, climbing into the passenger seat of his car and starting it so you could listen to the radio while Anakin was gone. You didn’t think much of it, it was probably just a bit of an after dinner debrief.

Anakin jogged over to his mom and leaned against Cliegg’s truck while he climbed in, leaving just Shmi and Anakin to speak alone.

“Ani she’s a wonderful girl.” Shmi said, squeezing his arm gently.

“Yeah she is, she’s perfect isn’t she?” He gushed, his pupils widened at just the thought of you.

“Yes-“

“She’s just… everything. She’s everything to me.” He continued, picking up his mothers hand.

“Just w-“

“I mean I really believe she’s the one mom.” He squeezed her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles in an affectionate way. “Really I do, she’s perfect. I- I’m so glad you guys like her, I knew you would of course but she was just so nervous and-“

“Anakin!” Shmi said sternly, her voice quickly going back to a calm tone after getting his attention.

“Anakin, sweetie, I’m so glad you’ve found your person.” She started slowy, holding eye contact with her son’s intense gaze. “I’m proud of you, you know that don’t you?”

“Yeah of course-“

“I’m proud of you. You’re a good boy honey.” She said quietly, “she’s a sweet girl, she deserves the best.”

“Well yeah she does, of course she does and-“

“Are you being your best?” Shmi asked him, her voice turning hard, alittle sharp. “Swear to me, Anakin. Swear you are?”

“Yes mom.” He sighed as though he were expecting this conversation.

“Are you still taking your medicine? Seeing your doctor?” She asked worriedly.

“Really?” He scoffed. “Please, let’s just drop it. This was a good day, please don’t ruin it by worrying over nothing.”

“Are you though?”

“Yes!” He hissed, clenching his teeth tightly. “Yes I’m still seeing the doctor and taking the stupid pills, yes.”

“Good. Very good.” She breathed a sigh of relief at his compliance.

“Don’t ask me if she knows.” Anakin said sternly. “She doesn’t.”

“You can’t just keep that from her, she has a right to know Anakin!”

“It’s not the right time for that.” He raised his voice slightly. “She doesn’t need to know yet. I’ll tell her on my own terms.”

“But you can’t-“

“I said: I’ll tell her on my own terms.” He breathed deeply, keeping his temper in check. “Please mom, just… just be happy for me okay? I’m doing really good, I’m happy. Please just let me be happy.”

“Alright.” She sighed, nodding slowly. “You’re right. I’m sorry sweetie, I shouldn’t have questioned you like that.”

“It’s okay. I know you worry.” He mumbled, pulling her into a hug, his hand rubbing between her shoulder blades.

“I- I just so badly want you to be happy.” She said quietly. “I want you to be safe, happy, and loved. You deserve to be loved.”

“I am loved.” Anakin whispered, his voice rough, “You love me. Cliegg loves me. Owen probably loves me. I think she might love me too.”

“You think so?” She asked in a brighter tone.

“Yeah, I do.” He nodded, pulling back with a soft smile.

Diary Entry: August 18th

I love my mother, but she worries too much. Talking to me like I’m some child to be coddled and babysat. I don’t need her or anyone else to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do, especially when it comes to you, my little doe.

I know what’s best for you, for our relationship, and it’s my opinion that you don’t need to burden yourself with my past transgressions. I’m a changed man, what I did as a teenager, as a kid, has no reflection on who I am today.

Telling you about it is out of the question. At least for now… but, it’d probably be for the best to never, ever speak of it. I just don’t see the point in sharing something like that with you when it would cause your pretty little head to worry over something so irrelevant to the present.

Not to mention the stupid fucking doctor. It was ridiculous, asking me such a personal question when she knows very well that it upsets me when she interrogates me like that. It’s none of her business anymore, I’m not a child, I can take care of myself.

If anything, her questioning and distrust makes me want to do it even less just to prove that I can live without it.

I don’t need to see a fucking shrink if I’m taking the pills right? It’s overkill to do both. I don’t need to talk about my feelings, I don’t need to tell a stranger all about my past and the questionable things I’ve done. That’s why I have a journal and I think it suits me just fine.

Just another reason why I love you so much. You’ve helped me by getting me into writing stuff down instead of keeping it bottled up. You’re responsible for the thing that helps keep me from spiraling, you should be so proud of yourself, showing me this A+ coping skill.

It’s way better than: ‘Breathe in… breathe out… focus on your surroundings and count the things you can see and feel.’

Like what the hell is that? What’s that supposed to do? Distract me? Yeah right.

It can’t distract me from what’s going on in my head. Not when it’s so much all at once, all the time. It was exhausting to pretend that something like that was working for me. Journaling is so much better. So much easier.

It’s real and it’s tangible. I can flip through the pages and return to the good things, or I can skip over the bad stuff but take comfort in knowing that I was able to write it down.

So fuck the shrink, I’m not going back. I haven’t been in months and I’m doing perfectly fine.

Diary Entry: August 20th

I cannot for the life of me figure out what the hell I’m going to do. I’m grasping at straws here, trying to figure out how to handle the Ghost situation.

I can tell you’re getting annoyed.

How am I supposed to respond? I know it’s been days but I can’t bring myself to answer the texts, the notes, the questions shouted into your otherwise empty home.

Hopefully you’ll understand, though I acknowledge that you have every reason to be upset with me. I’m assuming you’re feeling some sort of betrayal after the letter… I hate that. I really hate it. But it’s unavoidable.

You responded extremely well to my offer and the opportunity for a choice. So I’ll just do that again. That sounds reasonable, I’ll give a bit of an explanation, little apology and then I’ll let you choose what happens next.

This is what happens when I don’t fully plan ahead. I fuck things up and then it’s just a gommed up mess.

Then the whole situation with my mother really threw me off. It just added another layer of ‘what the hell’ to my already high stack of self imposed problems.

I want to do something. I need to do something. I have shit to get off my chest.

Date

August 22nd

Finally, finally Ghost has gotten back in contact with you.

Now that the little grey envelope is sitting on your nightstand… you almost don’t want to open it. After all the silence on his end it’s impossible to guess what he has to say. Though as you’re convincing yourself not to open it, it’s found it’s way into your hand.

LETTER

Little Doe,

My absence was unexpected for you as well as myself, for that I apologize. I would go into detail if I could but unfortunately we both know that I can’t do that.

Let’s just say that my life got a bit complicated and I had to take a moment to iron things out. Now that everything is starched and pressed it’ll be back to business as usual.

While I was gone I took some time to consider your question as well. So I’ll match you with a question of my own.

I’ve been… stressed to say the very least. I don’t like to be destructive, I’m not that kind of guy. So I was wondering if you’d help me out, give me a bit of an alternative rage release?

Don’t lie, I know you’re curious. I know you want me just as badly as I want you. I bet you’re wet just reading this, aren’t you? I think it’s high time for you to be conscious enough to really enjoy everything I’m giving you. Don’t you agree?

I heard you like it rough. Is that true princess? I’ll give you rough, just say the word and I’ll make sure you’ve got marks that’ll last for weeks.

Next half of the question: here or elsewhere?

You sure do love to show off that little body of yours. I wonder if that would translate over into your sex life if you’d let it.

Your choice little doe.

——————————————————————————

‘He did not just ask me that… did he?’

You stared at the letter in your hands, your mind going well over the speed limit on the road to rational thinking. It was tempting, oh so very tempting. He’s right of course, he always is, you are curious. You do want him, maybe even need him.

It’s obvious he’s more than capable of giving you what you needed, what you wanted. The man had you feigning for him for weeks with no relief, all from teasing you, all while you were unaware.

It would be… interesting to see for yourself in the waking world what he’s done to you in dreamland. It’s alright if it’s for research purposes isn’t it? Is it really cheating if you don’t know the person at all, his identity is a complete mystery; that should count for something right?

Just a smidgen of a mitigating factor would be enough to sway you to say yes.

“Hey.” You called out, waving your hand as if he were there with you and you were trying to get his attention. “You listening?”

*Ping* a text came through almost immediately: ‘Always.’

“You’re serious about this?” You asked, holding the stationary in one hand, gesturing to it with your other.

‘I’m always serious.’

“Right.” You sighed, pulling your legs up to sit cross-legged. “I don’t think this would be very kind of me to do. I just met Anakin’s mother, our relationship is getting serious.”

‘Congrats. What does that have to do with my need to fuck you?’

“Uh everything.” You scoffed. “That’s cheating. I don’t want to cheat on him!”

‘Defensive are we?’

“Yes,” you hissed, scrubbing your forehead with the palm of your hand, “very defensive for good reason.”

‘I admire your loyalty, but be honest with yourself little doe.’

“I am being honest! I don’t want to cheat on him!” You shouted back.

‘You didn’t say that you didn’t want me to fuck your though.’

“Christ.” You mumbled, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I didn’t say that. You’re right.” You conceded.

‘Then it’s a yes?’

“Not necessarily.” You snapped, the true answer was right there, clawing away in the cage of your teeth.

‘So no then.’

“That’s not what I said.” You said hastily, alittle too eager to correct him.

‘I see.’

“What?” You scoffed, staring at the message that’d popped up.

Another followed, this time a voice message. You hesitated before pressing play, holding your phon up to your ear to hear it clearly. His gravely distorted voice washed over you in all its unholy temptation.

“Don’t worry little doe. I know just what you need.” He paused for a moment as if considering something, “It’s been a while since you’ve had a night out. Go have some fun, I’ll catch up with you.”

“Oh no. Absolutely not. You’re not knocking me out cold again.” You said angrily.

‘Of course not. I want you to be awake for this.’

“Then… then why do you want me to go to the bar?” You asked suspiciously.

‘Surprise :)’

“Fuck.” You muttered, rubbing your temples before picking up your phone to message Luke and Han, as well as your good friend from book club.

“Just to be perfectly clear: I’m not saying yes!” You said, looking around the room with a red tint to your cheeks.

‘Not a no either.’

You could practically hear his voice, that teasing tone you knew all too well. What an ass, a stupid sexy ass.

DATE

August 24th

“Oh look at you princess.” Anakin whistled wrapping his arms around your waist when you walked out of your bedroom in a sweet little pink dress.

“Pretty, pretty girl.” He mumbled and he nuzzled into your hair, taking a deep breath to smell the scent of your shampoo.

“Oh hush,” you giggled, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “can’t be saying stuff like that, you’re gonna get me all flustered.”

“What if I want you to be all flustered?” He chuckled, tipping your head back to capture your lips and invade your mouth with a gentle caress of his tongue.

“Mmm taste as good as you look baby.” He whispered, his words fanning over your bottom lip and straight down to your core.

“Anakin…” you whined, looking up at him and wishing for mercy.

“Shhh don’t whine.” He laughed, pinching your chin between his forefinger and thumb. “I’ll quit teasin’… for now.”

“But you do look gorgeous you know?” He said sincerely, very lightly touching your cheek so as not to mess up your makeup.

“Thank you Ani.” You said shyly, leaning up on your tip toes to kiss his nose.

“So what’s the plan again? Dinner at that one Thai place you like? Then you’re going to the bar?” He asked, leaning back against the kitchen counter, his hands resting on the countertop at his sides.

“Yep that’s the plan.” You nodded, checking your bag to ensure you had everything you needed.

“Call me when you get there? You’re walking aren’t you?” He asked, looking at you with a gaze of concern that warmed your heart.

“Yes I’m walking and yes I will call when I get to the restaurant and I’ll text when I’m leaving.” You promised, tossing your mini backpack over your shoulder and giving him a hug and soft kiss.

“Alright sweetheart, I’ll see you at the bar.” He said in a low tone, smoothing out your hair as he held you close for a moment longer.

You left your home and Anakin behind, trotting down the steps to the city streets below. A walk would be good for you, plenty of time to think and plenty of time to clear your head of those thoughts before you reach your destination.

——————————————————————————

Diary Entry: August 24th

I’m so excited. I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited to do something for you.

I know it’s a bit presumptuous, but I think I know you fairly well and if you’re reading those nasty, raunchy books on your bookshelf… well I think it’s safe to say you might be interested in some of it for yourself right? You already think a man in a Ghostface mask with a knife is sexy.

I’m gonna give you what I think you like. I know I will love it. I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time but I was always alittle too chicken to do it. Even before we started dating, before you knew about Ghost. It’s been a fantasy of mine that I’ve thought of way more often than I’ll ever admit.

But now I have your unspoken permission, well at least your non-denial of it. Which isn’t technically consent but who cares; it’s been so blurred between us already.

Honestly its super comforting the way that you so vehemently defend our relationship. I’ve never had someone go to bat for me like that before, it’s endearing. It makes me feel cared for, loved, needed.

I know it’s hypocritical, trust me I know that; but it does kind of get on my nerves as well. I want you to say yes and say it enthusiastically to Ghost. At the same time I want you to scream and kick and tell him to fuck off.

Being jealous of both sides of myself is frankly quite exhausting. I don’t know what I want other than you. I just want you. I want you to want both of me and you do, but that’s also a problem.

You think I’m two separate people and that makes me a tad worried.

The only comfort it brings me is that you aren’t enthusiastically saying yes. You’re denying the truth of course, we both know that. But you’re also keeping some loyalty to our relationship and for that I am so eternally grateful.

I love the way you love me even if you haven’t said it aloud just yet. You will soon.

——————————————————————————

Your group of friends were gathered outside the restaurant, as the last one to arrive, you of course received a light dose of good natured insults and chiding.

“There she is!” Your best girl friend Sam yelled, pointing you out to Luke and Han as you walked up the sidewalk.

“Finally! I’m starving!” Luke sighed liked he’d been waiting hours, according to your phone you were still two minutes early.

“Shut up and let’s get some food.” You snorted, pushing him through the door and into the yummy little Thai place.

After getting settled into your cozy corner booth you placed your orders and slipping into the familiar routine of gossiping and story swapping.

“How did meeting the parents go?” Luke asked, propping his chin up on the heel of his hand, his fingers drumming along his cheek.

“It went so smooth and oh my god his mom is so sweet.” You said, leaning forward in your seat.

“I was so worried they wouldn’t like me, but I think they did. Anakin said they did, I mean they really seemed to at least.” You nodded.

“Oh I’m sure they loved you. You’re the perfect girl to bring home to the parents. You’re the whole package.” Sam smiled warmly.

“You’re too sweet, giving me way too much credit.” You sighed, your smile faltering slightly.

“Anyway… yeah his mom was great. I think she was just alittle worried you know? I’m the first girl he’s brought to meet them so I feel like there was a bit of worry there at the beginning.” You explained, talking with your hands.

“She was talking about him as a kid and she just looked so… sad I guess?” You sighed, trying to find a better word to describe it but came up short. “So I think maybe she was just sad about him growing up, finally finding someone he wants to be serious with.”

“That’s so sweet.” Sam said, squeezing your hand. “I didn’t realize you were the first girl he’d brought them.”

“Yeah,” you nodded proudly. “He said he was waiting for the right one.”

“Ew that’s so gross.” Luke gagged.

“Fuck off.” You tossed a good natured insult at him, rolling your eyes despite feeling an immense sense of accomplishment… maybe a hint of guilt there too.

After the meal was finished, you all walked together out of the restaurant and set out on foot toward The Cerulean. A leisurely pace was set by Han and Luke who were happily at the head of the group while you and Sam hung back just a few steps behind.

“So he’s gonna be here tonight?” Sam asked curiously.

“Oh, yeah but he’s working though.” You said.

“Wait really?” She asked in surprise. “That doesn’t bother you?”

“Why would that bother me? If anything it’s comforting.” You scoffed.

“Well he’s like… he’s just there you know? Not participating he’s just gonna be watching.” She made a displeased face.

“Trust me, I have no qualms with being… looked out for.” You smirked.

“So you don’t mind that he’s going to be watching you the whole night?”

“No, I don’t.” You shrugged, walking the through the door as Luke held it open for the two of you to enter.

You broke off from your friends in search of Anakin, you spotted him behind the bar, animatedly speaking with a coworker that you vaguely remember Anakin referring to as ‘Trev’.

It was like you had some sort of homing beacon, Anakin immediately whipped his head toward you and beckoned you over with two fingers. He trotted around the bar to meet you halfway, sliding his arms around your waist to pull you flush against his chest, pressing his lips to the top of your head.

“How was dinner, pretty girl?” He asked, his voice low and smooth.

“It was good!” You chirped, squeezing him tightly again before he let you go. “Told them allllll about meeting your parents.”

“Good things only I hope?” He laughed.

“Of course. Good things only, always.” You nodded with a big smile.

“It’s not nearly as busy in here as usual.” You observed, scanning the large space and noticing a much lower head count than the times you’ve been here before.

“Oh I know,” Anakin nodded, “there’s some kind of opening anniversary for a pub downtown. Free beer or something like that.” He shrugged.

“Huh, well I’ll have to tell Han.” You said.

“Mhm yeah I’m sure he’d enjoy it.” He agreed, “you going too?”

“No, I’m going home when I leave here.” You shook your head.

“Alright baby, listen, I gotta go back.” He nodded toward the bar. “You know where to find me.”

With that he gave you a chaste kiss to the forehead and quickly walked back behind the counter, stealing a drink order right from under Trevor’s nose as he slid in front of him, you heard him snicker and the *thwap* of a towel snapping against his leg in retaliation as you walked back to your friends.

You spotted them off to the corner, Sam speaking with a shorter man you’d never seen before. You snuck behind her with a cheeky grin and tugged a lock of her hair gently as you passed by, she was unfazed, simply giving you a pink cheeked smile.

“Hey Han,” you called out to get his attention as you drew closer, his head following the sound until he saw you. “You know there’s a bar even going on downtown tonight?” You asked, coming to a stop just in front of him.

“Yeah, it’s at The Drunken Horseman.” He nodded, “I think a few of the guys were headed out there actually. Free beer.”

“W-well why didn’t you go?” You asked in confusion, knowing he wouldn’t have just passed it up for no reason.

“Cause a little lady I know likes it better here.” He grinned, tapping your forehead with his pointer finger.

“Aw, you didn’t have to do that Han.” You said, feeling a bit guilty. “You should’ve said something!”

“Whoa, don’t get all riled up. I don’t mind it at all.” He reassured you. “I can still do plenty of people watching from right here.” He said, knocking his knuckles against the table top he leaned against.

He waved his hand over to the left, your eyes following the gesture until your gaze was met with a younger guy, unapologetically and unsuccessfully trying to speak to a group of girls despite being seemingly incredibly wasted.

“I guess that’s true.” You laughed lightly, the pull of guilt still tugging at your guts.

“Listen, after we’re done here you should go!” You encouraged, “I don’t want to be the reason you don’t get to do something that you wanna do.”

“Babes it’s no big deal.” Luke said, popping out from his seat behind Han’s massive frame. “I think we planned on skipping out a bit early to do exactly that.”

“Really?” You sighed in relief. “Good, I’m glad.”

“We did?” Han asked, looking over his shoulder.

“Uh yes, we had a whole conversation about this yesterday you oaf.” Luke scoffed.

“Oaf?” Han let out a loud, bellowing laugh at Luke’s poor attempt at an insult, making a little smile creep up the corner of your lips as well.

——————————————————————————

You decided collectively to call it a night just a little before 11:00pm so that Luke and Han could still catch Han’s group of friends at The Drunken Horseman. You said your goodbyes to them at the door and turned to face Sam after watching them leave.

“Are you positive you’re okay with walking home alone?” She asked you worriedly, “like absolutely positive?”

“Yes, I’m absolutely positive.” You said with an appreciative smile. “I’ll be fine. I’ll text you when I get home.”

“Okay.” She nodded, satisfied with your answer.

“You better do the same.” You said, catching her arm as she started to leave with the man she’d been chatting with all night.

“I will,” she signaled for him to wait while she got up close to whisper to you, “I looked him up when I went to the bathroom earlier. Arrest records and everything.”

“Good.” You grinned. “Have fun then.”

You spun on your heel to find Anakin and tell him goodbye, heading straight to the bar and catching him in another conversation. This time with a female patron that you’d seen before.

“I don’t understand.” She scoffed.

“What don’t you understand?” He scowled.

“I just don’t get why you’re mean to me!” She huffed. “I come in here all the time and I’m always nice to you, yet you’re an ass every time I speak to you!”

“Then stop speaking to me.” He said flatly, pretending to inspect a glass that he was drying.

“I should report you to management.”

“Please do.” Anakin shot back.

“They’ll fire you, for being rude to customers.” She threatened, crossing her arms.

“They’ll ban you, for harassing employees.” He snorted.

“God. You’re ridiculous, I asked you out one time-“

“Yeah and it was one time too many.” He snapped at her.

“I have a beautiful, wonderful, amazing girlfriend.” He said sternly. “She is my everything and you, are nothing.”

“Like she’s-“

“Listen. Even if I didn’t have a girlfriend I wouldn’t go after a whore with loud ass mouth like you.” He snarled. “Leave. I’m banning you myself.”

“You can’t do that!” She yelled

“He can’t do what?” His coworker Trevor came over quickly after hearing her shout at Anakin.

“He- he’s trying to ban me.” She said angrily.

“What did you do?” Trevor asked the girl and looked over at Anakin.

“Nothing! I was just trying to order a drink and he called me a whore!”

“I did call her a whore.” Anakin willingly admitted with zero remorse.

“Wait is this the one?” Trevor asked.

“Yeah, she’s been bugging me, Jason and Stevie for the last few weeks. Comes in every now and again and won’t take a fucking hint from any of us.” Anakin grunted as he glanced over at her.

“That’s not true I w-“

“Nope. That’s enough.” Trevor said, obviously irritated, he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of her.

“Hey you can’t do that!” She shouted trying to grab his phone.

“You’re going on the wall honey.” He said, thumbing over his shoulder at a cork board of banned patrons.

“You’re serious?” She scoffed, “you can’t be serious.”

“Deadly. Now get out.” Trevor barked, following her angry path across the bar to ensure that she did in fact leave.

“Baby?” Anakin’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you realized you’d been standing there with your mouth open as he tapped the underside of your chin.

“Anakin you didn’t tell me it was that bad.” You said, eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at him, now standing in front of you.

“Ah.” He grumbled.

“I didn’t want to worry you sweetheart.” He said softly, taking both your hands in his. “She’s not coming back now so nothin’ to worry yourself over.” He said with a reassuring smile.

“That’s just awful though. She was doing that to three of you?” You asked in disgust.

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Doesn’t happen often. Usually it’s April and Jess who get the creeps but every now and again there’s a girl who does it.”

“How much did you hear baby?” He asked, pushing hair from your face and holding your cheek.

“Just the tail end of it.” You lied.

“You know I’d never even entertain something like that don’t you, princess?” He asked, lines of worry etching into his forehead, “Never, I’d never even breathe in the direction of another woman.”

“I know.” You said with a small smile, you were being truthful. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind about his faithfulness, especially now after witnessing him tear into a girl over it.

“I know I have nothing to worry about.” You said, giving his hands a squeeze.

You might not, but Anakin does. Anakin does have to worry about your faithfulness whether he knows it or not; there’s a Ghost haunting every corner of your life that has no plans on leaving anytime soon.

“Good.” He said with a warm smile, pulling you into a hug. “Are you leaving?” He asked, pulling g back slightly.

“Yeah I’m headed home now.” You nodded.

“Alright pretty girl.” He said, kissing your forehead. “Be good. I’ll see you tomorrow. Text me when you get home?”

“Of course.” You nodded with a big smile that faded as soon as you turned around to leave.

——————————————————————————

“I saw your girl leaving, you headed out now?” Trevor asked Anakin as he was untying his apron.

“Yep, I’m leaving too.” Anakin nodded, folding the apron and tucking it under the counter. “Unless you need me to stay?”

“Thanks for coming in to help out man.” Trevor said, clapping him on the back. “We got it from here.”

“No problem, you know I don’t mind.” Anakin said, grabbing his wallet and keys. “See ya.”

Anakin left hastily stopping at his car in the back parking lot to grab his essentials. He checked his phone and saw that you’d made an unexpected stop at the little corner store for what he assumed was a snack.

“Perfect.” He grinned, tossing his hoodie over his head and switching out his shoes.

He tucked his mask under his arm and hopped into his car, parking it up the road a bit closer to where you were, just to get it out of his work parking lot. He jumped out, locked it and slipped into the nearest alley. He grumbled but hopped the fence at the end and continued down until he hit the opposite street, running parallel to the one you’d be taking.

“One… two… three… four… there.” He mumbled to himself as he passed by alleys between buildings until he found the one he was looking for.

This particular place was perfect for his purposes, no cameras, no foot traffic, no dumpster, a brick wall on one end and a recessed entrance to the building on the left. A building that was currently up for lease, leaving it tenant free. He scaled the short brick wall on his side of the alley, using the dumpster there as a boost.

Anakin’s sneakers hit the pavement with a satisfying noise when he dropped down from above. He tugged on his gloves and mask, hitting the side button on the voice box while he walked up the alleyway, his phone in his hand.

Your little blue dot was quickly approaching and his adrenaline was running high. His body practically vibrating in anticipation of what he was about to do, with your footsteps in audible range he tucked his phone away and bunched up a black handkerchief in the palm of his leather glove.

Your long shadow came into view, the lamppost casting it down on the side walk below. It shortened with each step you took. Seeing no shadow behind you, no other footsteps, Anakin knew it was safe to enact his plan.

The very second you came into view he lunged forward, clapping his hand with the bandanna in it over your mouth. Instinctively you parted your lips to scream, allowing him to shove the fabric in your mouth as he dragged you by waist and under your arms as you kicked and thrashed.

Part Eleven

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[dipperscavern]

jon snow brainrot rn.

like imagine finding him after the whole thorne execution, post-death and post-revival

i need to hold him so bad🙁🙁 in spite of the horrid crawl of his skin, hair at his nape standing on end, urging him avert his gaze as you approach, he can't help but seek your soft stare, his own eyes weak with feeling, brows curved with vulnerability. and his heartbeat is quickening, and his breathing grows sharp

his hand trembles and no matter how desperately he tries to hold fast, he crumbles when you near, raising a hand to his cheek; warm and soft and tender. his breath hitches violently in his chest and his head falls to the crook of your neck, his silent sobs disrupting the quiet with small soundless gasps

and you hold him close, with a gentleness he deserves that he'd never before recieved, a hand in his curls and the other a firm warmth on his back as he helplessly leans his weight on you to finally release the overflow of agony he'd all but drowned in 🙁🙁🙁

SWEET BOY, I NEED TO HOLD HIM💔💔

SONGBIRDS — JON SNOW

pairing: jon snow x fem!reader, 3.1k words

synopsis: the ask above <3

authors note: ouh this was a rough one! i did in fact steal sentences from this ask, so thank u anon!! i love u!! become a writer!! thank u to my febu frongers @useralba & @eldrith for helping me not lose my sanity over this, love y’all!! enjoy i guess 🙄(if possible) (i’m gonna be quiet now)

SNAP

you’re brought out of your thoughts with a jolt, startled so badly you near fall out of the tree you’ve found sanctuary in. that doesn’t sit well with you, you’ve always been steady.

so was bran, a small voice whispers. so was he, another part of you agrees — and the one it mentions has naught to do with climbing.

was, your mind echoes bitterly. it seems like everyone who once surrounded you is only that anymore, a was. a whisper of the past, faces seen nowhere but in living memory; and now, he has joined them.

fresh tears roll down your cheeks, and you wipe them as soon as they join the conversation of grief. bitterness — mourning — desperation, all cradling you at once.

you readjust your form, limbs beginning to fall asleep from the tight position they’re in. if only you could do the same. it seems the gods have deemed you unable, as every time your eyes droop, you see the face of the lord commander.

the mere thought of him is paining, and the sight of him was entirely too much to bear. so much so that you fled, the memory squeezing uncomfortably at your chest.

his eyes, once ever-expressive, dulled to nothing but an expressionless saccharine blur. lips parted, yet no air being brought in to fill his lungs. the snow beneath him was stained a bloody crimson, and you can almost feel the familiar cold of the icy ground beneath your knees as you kneel beside the form of the man you love.

at first, you had cried. whispering pleas to whomever would listen, clutching any part of him you could reach — you had even attempted to stop the bleeding. stupid, stupid girl.

then, it seemed to occur to you that you were touching death. slowly removing your hands, looking down at the lifeless body of jon snow. and just like that, repulsion had entered your veins. no — rejection.

you rejected this. you rejected death, you rejected the finality you had been dealt. you had stood, clutching your bow, arrows lightly jostling from the movement. hunting.

you had been hunting while jon was dying.

if only time had dealt you a mercy, perhaps you would’ve made it back in time. to save him, or just to say goodbye, you’re not greedy in your wishing.

you glance to your hands, still stained with his blood. suddenly, your eyes flutter shut as you see the image of his body again — his wounds smoking in the cold nights air. it feels like a lifetime ago. rejection has long since abandoned you, leaving bitter acceptance in its wake.

you blink, eyes threatening tears, and your gaze finds the white and red blur of a weirwood tree. you return to the woods to escape, yet the gods find you anyway; what cruel mockery.

how could they, yet again? don’t they see all you lose? they must, you think, as they’re the ones who keep taking. is that the only joy a god may find? maybe now, that’s why you hunt; to send them a life as sick compensation for the one they took. what an acidic dance.

CRACK

this time, when a twig breaks, you are not so foolish as to think it only by coincidence. you aren’t the only hunter out here — yet you did not think to find yourself as prey.

whatever stalks you is enough to bring you out of the cynicality of grief, snapping you into a different mindset. though previously unsure how much more you can withstand, your body proves otherwise, flawless in its transition and execution.

you heart increases its rhythm, surefire in its performance, allowing extra blood flow and oxygen to be pumped to your aching muscles. your breathing changes, now quick and rapid breaths to take in more air which prove effective as you shift yourself from your sitting position.

you had chosen not the tallest tree, but the thickest and most concealed. it gives more room for stability, allowing you to exercise your position; a small decision you now are thankful for as you move forward, outstretching yourself on its thick limb to try and catch glimpse of whatever it is that seeks you.

unfortunately, the concealment that hides you does its job too well. you try to peer through the branches and leaves for what feels like ages, but they prove too thick. you curse under your breath, withdrawing from the branch to retreat back to the trees trunk once more.

closing your eyes, you listen. the gust of wind, the rustling of leaves, a raven cries in the distance. you wait.

there — your ears are graced with the light chirp of birds, in your own tree and in others nearby.

“If danger is near, the birds don’t sing.”

ned starks voice rings through your ears, so loud and clear that for a moment, you almost lose concentration. if asked why, you’d never be able to directly say why your eyes didn’t snap open, why your head didn’t swivel around, looking for the source of the voice you’ve heard. can you and the gods share a secret, if it’s one they decide not to include you on?

as the melody of songbirds continue, you shift to begin your descent.

in any other scenario you would stay in the tree, concealed by its branches until the threat was certainly gone. but things are different. jon is dead — you seek a fight. (do you, or do you refuse to allow the stranger your soul as well?)

the decision made, even in grief, isn’t a rash one. whatever it is isn’t nearby enough to silence the singers, and this may be your only window of opportunity to flip the coin; restoring yourself as predator, not prey.

your feet hit the ground, and you wince at the noise made. it’s midday, so you cannot hope for nightfalls rescue of concealment.

you pause, peering around you while you allow yourself a moment to think. your hunting grounds have always been the forest that surrounds castle black, and you had retreated to the very edge of it. your hunter has come from the north — funny enough, from the direction of castle black itself. if you’re careful, you can make a loop back east, foregoing your usual trail. swallowing your nerves, you begin to move your feet.

your senses are heightened, alike to how they are in battle, but this is different. instead of blood pulsing in your ears, they’re attuned to every sound, no matter how minuscule. the smell of blood and death is replaced by nature, the scent of oak & pine leaves fighting to not be smothered by the cold.

you don’t make much progress before you turn a corner and yelp in surprise, being met with a hulking figure, red eyes boring into you.

“Ghost—!” you shout; in surprise, frustration, and relief all at once. your breathing heavies, heart now beating wildly, ready to supply you should you need to run at a moments notice. then, somehow, you’re smiling. you smile at ghost, at the birds, who didn’t notice him enough to quiet themselves, and the childness of it all. you kneel, shouldering your bow and outstretching an arm.

ghost seems like he’s been waiting for your action, stepping forward immediately. you register his willingness — had he been searching for you? or did he find jon dead and left, as you did, finding you accidentally? if only he could speak; the phantom of a thousand words.

he’s soft under your hands, a small comfort parading in the wake of sad relations. and suddenly, you feel guilty. how long has ghost been by jon’s side? how fierce, the loyalty the direwolf has shown him? how fierce the devotion jon had shown him in return? he mourns alongside you, grief arguably more substantial, as he was given no explanation. how could he understand such matters?

an idiot thought, you're quick to push it away. you both have every right to grief, there is more than enough to go around.

eventually, ghost pulls away, and begins padding in the direction to castle black. you think he means to be solitary, but after a few paces, he stops, turning to look back at you. expectant.

though your breath hitches and grief nags at you once more, you swallow it down, and begin to follow the only remnant of jon snow — a piece of him that the gods saw fit to leave you. what cruel mercy, coming from the same hands of injustice.

though content to wallow in your anger, your disbelief, you refuse to allow the direwolf to return to castle black alone. strangely, the farther you follow him, the more you get a sense of deja vu. it can’t be more than a few minutes before you see a tree with bark missing, torn off and left bare its left side, which is now your right. a mark you had left to remember your trail. ghost has tracked your scent from castle black.

with the realization arises conflicted feelings, as if they can’t agree on how you feel. loyalty rings faintly in the back of your mind, the things done for love.

you forcibly close your mind, numbing yourself as to be fully in the present. you’ll have the rest of your days to dwell on it; but only now are you here, in the company of trees and wolves and birds, oh how they sing.

and suddenly, the melody is quiet.

time itself has been stopped, halted in its tracks. there’s no rustling of branches, of leaves, no sound of birds, no sound at all — the world has become inaudible.

you and ghost mirror each other in the ways you both lurch to a halt. a sick feeling infects your gut, hairs rising on the back of your neck, and the instinctual need to flee almost takes over. but something keeps you there, rooted to your spot, feet unmoving. what anchors you, is another secret between you and the gods; another peculiar joke that you stay the punchline of.

then, after a moment, a gust of wind graces the forest. it blows your hair, rustles through the trees, and almost hesitantly so, the birds begin their song again. ghost looks back at you, surveying as if this is the first time he’s seen you.

he begins to lead the way once more, but a thought still lingers in the back of your mind, and you’re unable to shake off the unease in your gut. what has dismantled the harmonious balance among living things so?

━━━━━━━━━━༺✰ ━━━━━━━━━━━

he wakes with a gasp.

━━━━━━━━━━༺✰ ━━━━━━━━━━━

it must be hours later when you approach the gates of castle black. one of the guards on watch takes notice, shaking the other awake. as they both stare down at you, you wonder.

are they close enough to see the mourning that rests forefront on your face? were they the same men who opened the gate for you upon your return last night, only to do the same thing minutes later after you found jon? do they feel guilty? should you?

the wooden gates protest opening, loud creaks and groans as it gives you access, and at first, you don’t see it.

at first, you walk in, and your gaze is trapped on the ground, lost in thought. you’ve come back empty handed, as you came back to jon — or rather, his body. but you don’t think anyone was expecting a stag draped across your shoulders. amidst the unexpected.

when you finally do look up, you’re startled for the ? time today. four men hang in the middle of the courtyard.

you stop in your tracks, but this time, ghost pads on ahead of you. he stops not for anybody, curving them all to fair left. the direction to jon’s chambers.

you don’t have long to dwell on the wolfs mistake, as peoples eyes find your frozen figure. among them, friends; edd, grenn, pyp, others you don’t recognize. some, not dressed in black. wildlings. you begin to walk forward, and a tall, ginger bearded figure spots you. tormund walks to meet you, an expression on his face unreadable — unable to be identified by your tired eyes.

confusion — surprise — apprehension — curiosity; all fight for their seat at the forefront of your mind, but they’re forced to share.

as you and tormund find each other, you glance past him at the hanging men. then to your left, expecting to see ghost still scratching at jon’s door — but he’s not there. was he shooed off? did you misread his intention?

“I don’t— what’s…” you start, but don’t finish. how could you even begin?

tormund reaches for you, hands settling on your biceps. whether he’s keeping you in place or checking for injury, you don’t think you care. the weight and warmth of the gesture is welcomed.

“Tormund, you’re scaring me—” your admission wouldn’t usually come so easy, but you can’t be bothered to guard yourself. you’re exhausted, your muscles are stiff, you’re confused, and you hurt.

he only turns you toward jon’s chambers, pointing, a hand on the small of your back. “In there, little bird.” he says, and you wish to tell him what a help he is. but you don’t. for some reason, you bite your tongue, sparing a last glance at him, before slowly making your way over.

all of the eyes on you make you nervous, and frustrate you all the same. why do they all act like they’ve seen the father?

it doesn’t take long for you to reach the door, curiosity guiding your step. you see ghosts muddied paw prints on the wood, but they don’t turn left or right — ending at the chamber door. your brows furrow almost instinctively. you can’t help but linger on the thought, setting your bow & arrows to lay nearby; your shoulders welcome the reprieve. with bated breaths, you push on the wood, stepping inside. what you find is beyond even your wildest imaginations.

what you find is jon’s head turning to look at you, and you can’t help the sharp inhale of air you take.

his bottom half is clothed, but his upper is uncovered, torso wrapped in bandages; covering the stab wounds that you know took his life.

you think him a hallucination, mind willing his fate to change so desperately it has conjured up its own delusion. but you glance to ghost, dutifully curled by his feet, and shift to turn, looking at the paw prints that led you here.

you turn back to (jon?), closing the door behind you. while your own flickers to ghost once more (an affirmation), jon’s gaze remains fixed on you. you inch closer, surveying him.

his eyes, now encasing life — not quite the same as you knew, but life nonetheless. lips, parted, as to suck in air to fill his lungs. lungs that in return, work in correspondence with his heart, beating to keep him alive.

no. this can’t be…

but it is.

he’s rigid — uncomfortable, yet a part of him fights to relax in your presence. how can it all be so unbalanced and so right all at once? you’re here. you’re all he’s ever wanted. but a part of him keeps him withdrawn, fighting him on reaching out for you.

perhaps it’s the horrid crawl of his skin, urging him avert his gaze as you approach. even so, he can't help but seek your gentle stare, his own eyes weak with feeling, brows curved with vulnerability. you see it as you close in — the turmoil within himself.

a different part of him wins, and he reaches for you. you’ve been waiting, it seems, and reach for him with equal fervor. his hands are cold on your waist, strikingly so. your eyes widen, disbelief written on you like ink on parchment.

you had not expected to feel him. no, you expected for him to vanish underneath your very fingertips.

one of your hands find the bare skin of his torso, experimentally reaching out. jon is hungry for your touch, offering any part of himself for your taking. he has craved you desperately ever since he awoke.

he watches, patient as you register the warmth underneath your hand. there’s blood circulating through his veins. your pupils blow wide in the realization.

you’re anxious for more assurance, your right hand moving to his forearm to keep him in place (jon wouldn’t dare to move), as your left finds his chest. specifically — the part of his chest that keeps safe his heart. you feel it beat underneath your palm, and your reaction is immediate, eyes fluttering shut.

if he didn’t want to be touched, jon would’ve shied away from you by now. but he hasn’t. no, his eyes bore into you with the attention only divine beings receive

jons breathing heavies in anticipation, expectant. he gauges every ounce of your reaction, waiting for your evaluation of him — as a sinner would their god. is he worthy? do you deem him so?

when your eyes open, something clicks into place. jon is here, in the now, alive and breathing; your fingertips said so themselves. you don’t know how, but you can’t find it in yourself to care much in the present, not when you finally have him in your hold once more. what you would’ve given for this, hours ago in your tree. what wouldn’t you have given?

and now, your eyes roam over every part of him, drinking in all that you can. your gaze trails fast, mapping the expanse of his shoulders, down his arms, to his torso, across his bandages again.

your hand removes itself from his chest, only momentarily, but jon chases your touch all the same. you can’t bear to leave him wanting, sliding a hand up his shoulder, feeling the lithe muscle beneath it. you’re desperate to ground the feeling of him, to commit it to memory — and jon seems equal in his need.

you hand stops it’s ascent when it reaches his neck, cradling the juncture of it, thumb smoothing over the soft skin of his cheek, as you meet his gaze. your touch is warm and soft and tender, and in an instant, his eyes are watery. the hands on your waist tremble, and his breaths turn shaky in an attempt to hold himself together. his brows pull together, and his breath hitches violently in his chest. something stirs in you at the sight, the expressions of a broken man.

jon has passed your test of realism with flying colors, and when he realizes, he crumbles.

his head falls to the crook of your neck, closing the small distance between you. you’re quick to wrap your arms around him, and jon’s immediate in pulling you closer — as close as you can get. the tears begin their flow easily, releasing the buildup of emotions harbored from death snaring & absolving him; akin to poison swallowed and retched before fully digested.

your touch is gentle, a hand in his curls and the other a firm warmth on his back. he leans himself into you, almost helplessly so, as if he couldn’t stop himself if he tried. you accept his weight with open arms. if jon was asked why he fights so desperately, even in times it seems hopeless, he would say to repay the gods for their gift to him; you.

the only things that disrupt the steady quiet that surrounds you are his silent sobs, accompanied by the small soundless gasps that flow from his lips as a river of melancholy.

his grip is tight; he drowns in a vast sea of agony, and you alone are his anchor.

[hoshigray]

Anon said: I hope it's okay.. wondering if you could write something for ushijima where he's married with kids and the mc is starting to feel insecure about her body and ushijima shows to her how much he still gets turned on by her (now more than ever too). Also I'm really happy I came across your blog! Absolutely love your writing! 🤗💕✨️

Omg another Ushi request!! Stop this is so cute, has me grinnin' and shit!! Tysm for the kind words, noonie, happy to have you on my blog as well~ ;w; ♡ (also, I'm so so so SO sorry for deleting your ask before, plz forgive me bc the draft wasn't finished AT ALL, lmao)

Cw: Ushijima x fem! reader - soft and then smutty, so minors DNI - reader is chubby + has stretch marks cuz I said so - kisses on body (f! receiving) - cunnilingus/oral (f! receiving) - implied breeding kink - praise - biting (Ushi nibbles on your tummy, cheeks, and nipples) - clitoral play (swiping and sucking) - ends with implied insertion - slight overstimulation - reader feeling self-conscious about their body but Ushi coming in for the rescue - you and Ushi have two-year-old twin sons!! Wc: 2.8k

There's nothing you would want to change about your life.

You already thought you hit the jackpot when you stumbled upon and started dating THE Wakatoshi Ushijima, a man you never — in your WILDEST dreams imaginable — could see yourself with. And the fact that he proposed and took you as his spouse is shocking enough. But now, as you see him on the couch with two small children asleep on his lap as the man watches the television, it's hard to conceal the smile that sneaks past your comprehension, and you silently walk upstairs to your shared bedroom.

It's been three years since you and Ushijima tied the knot, and you expectant with two boys immediately after. Since then, your life has gotten brighter and brighter by the day. Not only has Ushijima been a great and supportive unit as he has been since he first met you, but watching your sons grow into such beautiful bundles of joy never fails to make you beam with glee. And it's so cute because they're literal carbon copies of their father! Aside from being much more expressive and bubbly than their silent parent, he says they get from you.

For the past three years, every day in the Ushijima household has been grateful. Having a loving husband and two wonderful children is evidence of such. Because of this happiness you bestow and witness, there's absolutely nothing in this life that you'd want to change or replace…

...But that's a lie because there is one thing you'd wish to change. And it bothers you as you stare into the bedroom mirror.

Turning your figure to the left and right in your underwear, you're the only one here who can point out the critiques of your body that you've noticed since pregnancy. Your brows crease as you bore holes at the plumpness of your abdomen that wasn't this curvy before, the detailed streaks of your stretch marks indicating the changes your body's undergone through the years. And your appearance comes off plumper than you've remembered prior; memories of your "perfect" figure from your wedding night flood your mind.

The mirror doesn't display a "you" that you recognize. It's a "you" that has long replaced your old self — the old self who was distinct compared to now, the old self that would model cute outfits and pose with their friends, the old self that grabbed the attention of a well-renowned volleyball player and would soon bear his children.

That old self is long gone, fueling your dismay about who you're looking at as your reflection. This is you, but this isn't your body, is it? It can't be. A body like this shouldn't be able to experience the happiness you're experiencing...should it? The more you stare at your reflection, the blurrier your head is clouded with your thoughts, and an uncomfortable bob strangles your throat.

KNOCK!! KNOCK!!

You jump at the sudden sound, turning to face the ajar bedroom door. Your husband, Ushijima, entering halfway. "Can I come in?"

"Uhhh, yeah, come in!" You stutter as you grab an oversized shirt (Ushijima's) to cover up. It's funny: being together all these years and you still wish to be modest around your partner. He closes the door behind him once you sit on your side of the bed. "Put the boys to bed."

"Mhmm." He hums in response, walking to the mirror you were using, touching up on his hair before taking off his shirt. He stretches in front of the glass, and you observe him as he does so. His reflection depicts the gorgeous lean physique as his breathtaking back muscles captivate you. Even when he goes into the closet to fetch a more comfortable tee to sleep in, your eyes never leave him.

Strong. Stoic. Incredibly athletic. And a cadence that engulfs anyone in his path. There are many ways people in your surroundings have depicted your husband. And with a front-row seat, you understand what they mean. Ushijima is a rather unusual breed of man, both mind and body; it's a fact you've known before you two dated. And it's a fact that grasps your attraction to him constantly. All these years, and he's still the handsome man you fell in love with.

Makes you wonder if he thinks the same for you. Even with your current body...

"Y/n." A voice snaps you back to the present, turning to the other side of the bed to see Ushijima look directly at you. You blink with a shiver; he must've been calling for you while deep in your thoughts. "You okay?"

You cough before answering. "Ahem, yeah, yeah! Sorry, I'm fine."

The man trenches his brows. "No, you're not." He cuts you off before you can say an excuse. "This is the third time this week you've been thinking up a storm to yourself. Not to mention you've been doing it for the past few months."

"Am...Was I that obvious?"

"That, and I saw you looking at yourself earlier." It's bad enough his blunt answers shoot arrows to your heart, but to know he did see you eyeing yourself at the mirror? Your mind goes rampant thinking what he'll say next. "So, what's wrong?"

You could try to dismiss the topic again and just retire for the night, but you know Ushijima well enough to know you can trust him with what you're thinking. You sigh heavily, turning to your fingers that fidget amognst themselves. "Toshi...Do you...like my body?"

One second goes by. Three seconds. The silence gnaws you, you chew on your lip to distract yourself until the man answers. "...What do you mean?"

"Like...before I had the boys, I felt real...confident? With myself?" Your fingers now toy with the comforter covering your lower body, the awkward atmosphere eating you alive. "I'm not saying I was the most gorgeous person alive or anything, but I liked how my body looked. And now, after being pregnant and everything, I just feel like.....I don't know. Forget about it; good night!" You swiftly turned off the lamp on your bedside and patted your pillow. But before you can situate yourself to sleep, a hand comes to your cheek, prompting you to look at your spouse again.

"Y/n." The way he says your name is so calm and comforting. You lean to his touch. "Is that what's been bothering you?"

You nod, a thumb stroking the soft flesh of your cheek. "Yeah, it's just me with my stupid thoughts bullying me, really..."

Ushijima hums, his free hand freeing your lower half from the warm comforter, exposing your legs to the air-conditioned space. "You shouldn't let those thoughts take the best out of you. You're an adult; it's only natural that your body changes as you grow. And as a mother, it's not guaranteed you'll look like your old self." Once again, the man obliviously scolds you with his curt response. Although, you know he's not wrong, nodding to his words.

"I know, I know. It's just..." Another sigh leaves your fatigued lips. "Every time I look at myself, I just don't know...how can such an amazing and wonderful guy like you still want to be with me looking...different. I get it: it's just my head being mean. But still..." And you leave it at that, withdrawing your face from his warm palm.

Ushijima, though, kept his eyes on your solemn expression. He tries again, bringing his hand up to your chin to look at him. "To answer your question: yes, I do like your body. The reason why is that it's your body. I keep mine in the same condition — if not better — simply because I have a job that requires me to do so. But that's just for me, not you. I didn't date you just because of your body alone. I sure didn't propose to you for it either. I married you — all of you. I love everything about you, and that love hasn't changed since I said my vows." The hand on your chin returns to cupping your cheek. "And it won't change just because of some natural changes to your body. Otherwise, I'd be a terrible husband and father for thinking so."

"Toshi..." Just when you thought your love for this man couldn't get any significant, he always finds a way to bring it up to substantial levels. Your heart swoons to his words, making you fall unquestionably in love with him again. Now you bring a hand to his cheek, "You're such a wonderful man, you know that? So lucky to have you as my husband." He averts his gaze from yours, a sign you know is his way of accepting praise.

"I'll say this, though," the tall man places his other hand to seize your small one on his cheek, olive eyes boring into yours: a sign of honesty. "Ever since you had the twins, I think you've become more beautiful than before."

His face draws in close, and your breath hitches. "Toshi—"

"I mean it. You're so beautiful..." His lips rest on your plump ones, and you're gently pushed to your back with your head on the pillows. It doesn't take long for you to melt into his kisses, small gasps when he leaves your lips to set sweet smooches on your cheek and neck. "So beautiful for me....."

The feeling of his lips on you has you under his spell, and you mean when a hand snakes under your shirt. Ushijima lifts the material to expose your body to him; humility still runs over you as you use your hands to cover yourself. But the man before you doesn't let that happen, moving your hands off your body and onto his shoulders. "Don't do that. Let me see it all." His mouth goes back to your neck, sucking on your skin that'll surely leave marks for you to see in the morning.

He then ventured down, kissing and sucking on every piece of insecurity that caged you. Every stretch mark, from your shoulders to your tummy, kissed with love and gratitude. Your plush thighs were rubbed by his hands before his mouth came down, giving the fat above your panties a teasing bite, causing your legs to jerk. Ushijima removes your underwear, discards the lacy material to the cold wooden floor, and spreads your legs to have your bare genitalia out for him to see.

Your face is now hot from the exposition. "Toshi..." you say his name in a whisper, not wanting to get loud as your bedroom is not too far from your sons'. "Please, you don't have to—Ooohhh..." You're cut off when you feel his tongue lap on one of your nipples, licking on the bud while using his hand to toy with the other breast.

"No, I do have to." He says in between licks to your nipple before taking it wholly into his mouth; your whimpers fail to cooperate on wanting to be stifled by your lips. The heat between your legs starts to flourish, having you grind your thighs together to ease the throbbing sensation. And Ushihima notices, releasing your mound from his hand and slithering it between your soft thighs, protruding his fingers between the folds of your vagina. A sharp cry comes out of you at the sudden contact of his forefinger brushing your clit.

"Ahhhh! Toshi, right there, right—Mmmmm..."

"Not yet, Y/n," your husband coos to your ears, his voice so hot to hear. "Need to warm you up first..." He lays kisses on your neck while pushing his finger into you. You bring a hand to cover the shriek from exiting when his digit enters your chasm, your inner walls adjusting to the size. And when he inserts his middle fingers, you find purchase on the tee he's wearing.

"Oooh, hooohh...Jesus Christ, Toshi, your fingers," you whine to him. He brings his face up to glance at yours. "Feels so good, so—Ahaaannn!!"

"Shhhh, keep feeling good for me." He coaxes you with a kiss on your forehead, the pace of his fingers quickens, and the squelching noises coming from your cunt burn your ears. Your hips buck whenever his digits scrape the velvety walls, and your mind slowly descends into a lustful haze. You want him so bad — want him right now.

And Ushijima takes this time to examine your body while he works on your leaky slit. Watching your figure quiver to his touch, your mouth agape for cute moans to fill the space, and your eyes screwed to an expression of pleasure. Here is where he treasures you more than ever: having you like this with him and only him. It turns him on. It's a raunchy thought, but it's true.

Beauty stirs many images in Ushijima's mind. But nothing triumphs over the true definition of beauty when it's about you. You are the most beautiful in his eyes, both body and soul. Every time he looks at you, the memory of your first smile to him flashes before him, a moment he cherishes till his last breath and is the moment that cemented his wish to have you by his side. And now married with two bouncing boys, there has not been one instance where his light for you diminishes. If anything, it grows brighter and brighter.

However, when it comes to his attention that you don't see yourself in the same light as he does, it's only befitting for a husband to fix that. Because, in his eyes, even through all the changes throughout the years, your body still drives him insane. Especially now, when he's the reason that transformed you with his youths. And seeing you writhe on the bed with his fingers in your vulva, that switch that once flipped before has twitched something inside him...

"Ahhhn!! Nnnmm!! Toshi, Oh God..." The tall man snaps to your disheveled look, your eyes watery and lips puffy from frequent chews. "Haaah!! It's coming, I'm gonna—Ohoooo!!"

"Go ahead. Cum on me, Y/n." He kisses and nibbles your cheeks before putting his mouth on your nipple once more, sucking and lightly biting the nub while pushing his fingers in and out of your cunt at a sporadic rhythm. He places his thumb on your clitoris, swiping and grinding on the tender button. And that was the final piece for your orgasm to overtake you, the walls of your slit clamping around his digits while your body quivers with the crawl of your spine.

Your cries fill the bedroom, riding out your climax until the last tremble. Toes curl as your pussy flutters on him, and they relax when your body is sheathed with a soothing silence that calms you down from the aftershocks. Pants exit swollen lips, too distracted in your bliss to catch a glimpse of Ushijima moving downward to your southern lips, his tongue running on your slick-coated folds.

A forced wail comes out at the motion of his mouth on your chasm. "T-Toshi, stop! I'm too sensit—Iiieeee!!" Your hollers return with an ecstatic vigor as your husband drinks your essence.

"Y/n," his voice was loud enough to draw your awareness to him, licking your fluids from your inner thighs. "You drive me crazy, you know. Your body, it turns me on so much."

"Mmmm, hmmmm, r-really?" Even though Ushijima is sucking on your most delicate areas, you're able to carry on with the conversation.

"Really. Actually, I've been turned on throughout the entire pregnancy. Something about making you big and swole with a baby — the thought about it makes me go wild." He finally removes himself from your cunt, licking remnants of your fluids from his lips. He then takes off his tee, his well-built physique for your eyes to ogle.

Hooded olive eyes stare at you as he undoes the drawstring of his sweatpants, bringing them down to reveal his erection. The image of his cock springing has your sweat run to deep ice cold. You know where this is going, and you can't tell if the pulses of your chasm are out of fear or mutual excitement. "Toshi—"

"Hey, Y/n, I've been thinking" he brings you close to him, your legs spread for him. He then aligns his dick to your wet cunt, using your slick to lubricate the tip of his length before pushing it between your folds. You have to bring a hand up to conceal the mewls. "Maybe we should have another baby. Let's try a girl this time." His mind clouded with aroused thoughts; you pregnant with his child again, all big and round and swole with his child. The image sends shivers up his since. He gets so fucking turned on by it. But as long as it's you, it's all good. Even now, when the tip is finally inserted with a muffled cry from your covered lips, Ushijima doesn't want to turn back.

"Want them to be cute and beautiful like you..."

[jackiepackiee]

Hello! If you could consider: I was wondering how Tanjiro, Sanemi, and Mitsuri would react when their s/o answers the man vs bear question with bear? Maybe little hcs, or mini drabbles?

Have a lovely day/night!!

You literally read my mind I was thinking of this the other night

𝒟𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓃 𝒮𝓁𝒶𝓎𝑒𝓇 𝒟𝓇𝒶𝒷𝒷𝓁𝑒

𝑀𝒶𝓃 𝒱𝒮 𝐵𝑒𝒶𝓇

𝒲/ 𝒯𝒶𝓃𝒿𝒾𝓇𝑜, 𝑀𝒾𝓉𝓈𝓊𝓇𝒾, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒮𝒶𝓃𝑒𝓂𝒾

𝒯𝒶𝓃𝒿𝒾𝓇𝑜

The topic is pretty unfamiliar to him at first

He understands and knows about misogyny, but growing up with such a loving family in the secluded woods of a nice town didn’t expose him to much

Being surrounded by good hasn’t shown him much of what people can really be like, especially humans and not demons

But this boy is willing to listen!

Now he will defend you with. His. Life.

And that includes your opinions (unless they are obviously immoral)

But when he firsts hears it he’ll be confused

“A… bear? Why would you be with a bear?”

He makes that silly face he has when he’s confused

Then he starts to understand the more serious aspects of the discussion

He wants to know everything so expect a whole lot of questions

“Which man? I can’t pick? Oh well I don’t want it to be random.”

After he gets an understanding know he’ll be more aware of you and Nezuko.

On the lookout for creepy looks or comments

Overall 8.5/10, he supports you fully with your opinion but he’s not fully up to date on the topic

𝑀𝒾𝓉𝓈𝓊𝓇𝒾

Mistsuri is sad when she hears this question

Why would you ever have to be afraid of a man or a bear when you have her to protect you?!

She’d defend you from any man, no matter the cost

And probably become friends with the bear like a Disney princess

Now she definitely understands

Being a very beautiful woman she’s been through a lot

And while it might not show in her bubbly personality, she does often get uncomfortable with men and their advances

Only really being used to either complete rejection by possible marriages or creepy injuries by strangers

She has her own input as well

“Well I think you’re right! The bear is also way cuter!”

This is her way of cheering you up, making silly comments

Because she’s well aware of how disheartening the topic can be

And sees how it brings you down to have to think you can’t trust half the worlds population

And if anyone tries to disagree with you?

Mitsuri is no yeller but she sure is fierce

10/10, she understands completely and cheers you up after the depressing discussion topic!

𝒮𝒶𝓃𝑒𝓂𝒾

He HATES the idea that this even has to be a debate

He truly and honestly believes woman should be safe and respected

And the fact that his lover would rather be with a wild animal than a man? It’s disgusting to him that you would ever feel so unsafe

He’s not mad at you at all

But everything he feels he feels 100% so his support of your opinion is probably more intense their your original thought

You’d think he’s the one who brought it up in the first place with his passion for his opinion

Going off your given fear from the psych question, he becomes more protective

Now he is well aware of how unfairly woman are treated, being raised the way he was

And he respects their power and perseverance more than anyone else in the corps

The fact that you feel even the slightest bit uncomfortable from the idea of a male stranger has him subconsciously keeping you at his side in public and defending you louder than he berates a demon

You don’t have to teach him anything about woman’s respect and safety

While he may be cranky, it’s all equal lol

He’s not rude to people because of their gender, he’s just that way (not to you obviously)

11/10, he’s such a big defender of your opinion that he cares more than you do!

[natlovesls2]

Why Me?

Lando x Latina!Reader

*ੈ✩‧₊˚warnings: 18+, brief mentions of razors (in a hair removal way and self harm way), mentions of blood once or twice, bullying, swearing (maybe), angst to fluff, no use of y/n

*ੈ✩‧₊˚word count: 1.5k

*ੈ✩‧₊˚summary: You don't feel good enough or your past experiences haunt you

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You stood in front of the mirror, awkwardly rubbing at the brown skin of your arms, pinching at the hair that was beginning to grow back— the prickly feeling, a reminder of the extra steps you had to take to feel slightly attractive. Shaving every bit of body hair has been your dirty secret since your mom allowed you near a razor. The pink plastic always tucked away in some corner of your bathroom, ready to save you from humiliation. You refused to ever let another person see you like that— refused yourself from being bullied or ridiculed ever again.

The memories of those elementary and early middle school days haunted you, taunting you at every moment those memories slipped into your mind. The awful names the children your age had called you stuck like a piece of gum stuck to the bottom of your shoe in a busy street— the most pesky type of sticking. It clung and clung, refusing to leave the shoe and its place, leaving behind a tacky feeling that made walking uncomfortable. Those names left that same tacky feeling in your brain that made it impossible to feel comfortable in your skin.

You could still remember the day the boy you liked called you a man. The way he laughed and caused everyone at your table to laugh at you plagued you every day. It crawled into your brain on days when you least wanted it to, reminding you of the innocent childhood love you were denied. The constant whispers and laughter made around you reminded you that you weren’t loved or desired by the people you so desperately wanted to be approved by.

So, as you stood in front of your mirror looking at your sun-deprived, brown, and prickly skin-- you couldn’t help but hate yourself. You hated being the opposite of what everyone wanted. You hated that you were the Latina men wanted when they said they “love Latina women.” You despised the role in the media that women who looked like you had acquired— the maid. It tired you beyond belief to see other brown Latinas be portrayed as such as if you had no other value to society. It felt as if your skin was anything other than the protector it was meant to be. It felt more like a target— a target that yelled: berate me and make me feel like shit. And if your own ethnicity saw your skin as less than others, then what was there to expect from others? But of course, you hadn't always felt like that-- in fact, you had once loved the way you looked.

You sighed, turning the knobs of the shower on, letting it warm a bit before getting into it. You let the warm water hit your body, relaxing your thoughts for a while. The self-hatred and unpleasant memories wash away with the soap. The untouched razor in the corner of the shower finally caught your attention, bringing back everything that had just passed. And as you shakily picked up the razor, you wished you had been “blessed” with lighter skin that came with that hard-to-see body hair. You swiped the razor up and down your arms, cutting away your arm hair and, with it, washing away your shame.

The sudden knock at the door startles you back to reality, though you were sure you were out of it to begin with. “You okay in there? You’ve been in there for quite a while; I’m starting to worry,” your boyfriend yelled through the locked wooden door of the bathroom. The relationship had started two years ago and was everything your younger self had idolized and wished for. 

“I’m fine,” you yelled back, quickly finishing your shower, wrapping a towel around your body, and opening the door.

He smiled at you, wrapping his arms around your waist, swaying you around. “You look beautiful,” he leaned down to press a quick kiss to your lips, resting his forehead against yours. He was the beautiful one in the relationship that was everyone’s opinion— including your own. Everyone online made it clear that Lando was out of your league, and you believed every word. It didn’t matter how much he told you that he loved you and that he thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world.

“What’s wrong, love?” He whispers, rubbing his nose against your own, giving you another quick kiss before pulling away completely. He looked at you attentively, analyzing your facial and body expression.

“Why me?” You asked, voice cracking as you attempted to hold back the tears that had snuck up on you. “Why would you want to be with me?”

Lando reached out to gently caress your cheek, wiping away the tears that managed to escape you, “Why not? Why wouldn’t I choose you?”

“Look at me! I’m nothing like the ideal woman, at least not one that someone like you would want!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He scoffed, shaking his head and pulling you closer. 

“It means that you deserve someone who looks like they just walked off a runway show! Stop laughing, Lando, I’m being serious right now,” you push him away, smacking his shoulder out of frustration, stepping back as he outstretched his arms to, once again, wrap them around your body. 

“Come on, there’s no way you’re actually being serious. You know why I love you.”

“It’s hard to know when no one else understands it.”

“It’s not for them to understand! We’ve talked about this, and what did you tell me? You promised that you wouldn’t pay attention to what people say,” he ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his face. 

Of course, you remembered the promise and the million other similar promises. It was easy to make those promises but incredibly hard to keep them– especially when his fans constantly reminded you of your flaws and misfortunes. 

“Sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you. Just get dressed; I’ll wait for you in the living room,” he leaned forward slightly to give you another kiss but hesitated and decided against it. 

"I love you," he said quietly, closing the bedroom door as he walked out, once again leaving you with your thoughts. 

A feeling of nausea settles in the twisting pit of your stomach as you dress into the outfit you had chosen before your shower: a green dress that stops a few inches above your knees with a thin white cardigan. Slowly, you walked out of your shared bedroom, watching as Lando's eyes lit up as soon as he saw you– giving you that toothy smile he always gave you when he was especially happy. The type of smile that always made you feel special and eased your worries, even if it was just temporary. You couldn't help but smile back at him, giving him the same wide smile. "Stop it, you're giving me butterflies," you laugh at the situation; it was strange that he could make you feel so loved with something as simple as a smile.

"Maybe that was the plan... you look beautiful– you always do." He always knew the right things to say and when to say them. You always liked that about him; Lando was confident, and that made him reliable. He knew what he wanted; sure, he didn't have his whole life figured out, but when things went wrong, his confidence made it seem as if plan B was always meant to be plan A. You suppose this is why you had fallen for him so quickly. His ability to fix things that were broken and had gone wrong.

"I love you," You quickly said, wrapping your arms around him– hugging him as tight and close as you possibly could. 

He pushed against you, holding your shoulders with his hands and smiling, "You love me?"

"Yes, so much. More than I could have ever imagined loving someone."

"I love you too. You're so perfect for me in every way– I mean it. You're so kind to people, even when they aren't kind to you. You care so much about everything, and you're so passionate about it. That's why, that's why I love you," he pulled you back into the hug, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

You knew you would continue to feel uncomfortable in your own skin, and that feeling wouldn't go away for a long time. However, as long as you had Lando by your side, it would be a little less painful. "I'm going to remind you that you are beautiful and that what you see as flaws are the things I love most about you for as long as the universe lets me be by your side," he promised, and you knew he would stay true to that.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Note: this is loosely based on my personal experience so if this isn’t your experience as a Latina, I understand. That being said, everyone deserves love regardless of their skin color, race, or ethnic background. I am extremely sorry if anyone has been told over wise or has been made to feel unloveable. -`♡´-

[colourstreakgryffin]

I saw you're taking Hazbin hotel requests so I thought I'd shoot my shot! So reader is a young boy who also died around Alastor's time(Early 1930s) . He's so confused and overwhelmed by how fast everything is progressing. So when he hears Alastor humming/singing a song from the 1930s he feels a sense of comfort and familiarity. Bonus if it also happens to be their favorite song! Take your time and you're amazing!

Oooh! Fourth Alastor request and I am having such a great time with this! This man is so fun to write for! After I finish here, I am gonna go cook some Jambalaya then pop it into my pentagram and summon Al so he can cook me!

Alastor- Night & Day

Like the beat, beat, beat of the tom tom…

when the jungle shadows fall

like the tick, tick, tock of the stately clock

You don’t recognise anywhere you are… this place. It’s hot, dark, dangy and uncomfortable. There’s nothing here resembling Earth and it’s shaking you to your core. Not having the strength nor confidence to move anymore from the alleyway you were just dropped into upon arriving here from the pentagram in the dark sky. Everyone is too much for your young mind. Well. Other than that, those lyrics…

As it stands against the wall

Like the drip drip drip of the raindrops

When the summer shower is through

So a voice within me keeps repeating you, you, you

That song is a symbol of comfort for you. Night & Day by Cole Porter. Something your mother use to sing to you every night before bed, the sound of pretty rain hitting your open window as that beautiful sweet woman would sing over and over again, all without it growing repetitive, until you fell asleep. Having wonderful dreams all the time

Even though you’re scared out of your mind, you begin to walk out to the streets. Packed to the brim with all kinds of weird-shaped adults but you avoid most of the them, weaving through this thick crowd to find the source of the soothing lullaby of your whole life and the voice singing it. It sounds dapper, transatlantic, if not an old radio. Is it coming from a radio?

Night and day, you are the one

Only you beneath the moon or under the sun

Whether near to me, or far

It's no matter, darling, where you are

I think of you

It felt like a game of cat and mouse. Running around to find where that wonderful singing is coming from and it feels like the person is constantly teleporting, no adult should be this frustrating to find. Or, you’re just too overwhelmed from being dropped into literal Hell to even realise your coordination skills are as dropping as you did. Your mind is racing to come to terms with what’s going on

This isn’t New Orleans at all… and not a single trace of your parents around. Are you alone? No. No. You don’t want to be alone, you’re too young to be alone. Is everybody here too evil to care about a literal child Sinner being stuck on his own and having to fend for himself in ways he doesn’t know how to…

By all the unholy gods. Somebody help

Day and night, night and day, why is it so

That this longing for you follows wherever I go

In the roaring traffic's boom

In the silence of my lonely room

I think of you

The loud noises of talking, of the wall of built-in weird flat devices screeching and echoing, the patter of footsteps. It makes you want to hide away and sleep to try shake off all the distress and overwhelming feelings you are being tormented with but that song is way too recognisable and comforting for you to ignore so you just keep pursuing it

Maybe, it’ll be pointless and the singing source will be from a Radio of your year but it almost feels like the song is organic and from a person. That means there is an adult of your time here. A man from the 1930s, Hell, he may be somebody of your family! That’d be wonderful and your hopes are high that when you do find the source, it’s somebody you’ll get to embrace and talk to

Day and night, night and day

Under the hide of me

There's an oh such a hungry yearning burning inside of me

And this torment won't be through

Until you let me spend my life spreading love

A flash of bright red crossed your eyes when you finally had managed to shakily but stubbornly and determined, pasted through the big careless and if not almost hypnotised by the running TVs crowd, and continued down the road in half sprints. Following a array of melodically humming, recreating the beat and rhythm of the song as it seems the source is quite invested in such a song

It felt like forever following a mere sound across the city’s streets but there he is. The source of the singing, he’s so close that you can finally reach a arm out and take his hand to catch his attention

Day and night, night and day—

The man instantly mutes his singing. He is tall, in a nice fancy coat with long hems at the bottoms, with a pair of what seemed to be tall deer ears on the top of his head and his pale face branded with a permanent toothy grin, he looked both menacing but yet friendly. Turning around to face the nine-year-old Sinner running around the Pride Ring’s own Pentagram City’s streets to chase the source of a song of familiarity and now has chased and caught his hand, Alastor reacted rather friendly and understanding to be presented with a child of his own era

Leaning down to be kneel before this young confused on-the-verge-of-crying boy, the Radio Demon says smooth and curious with that same radio effect almost overlapping his charming transatlantic accent, placing his free hand on your little shoulder

Something about Alastor reminded you of a popular figure from New Orleans you’ve met before

“Greetings there, young man… tell me, where are your parents?”

[littlemarianah]

I have a headcannon that it was Peeta's mother who used to decorate the bakery's cakes before him.

She learned it as soon as she married the baker, and is kinda good at it.

Maybe that's why she's so picky about the cakes Peeta makes. "If I had done it..." is what she always says when is about to criticize him. But the truth is that the boy is so good that it's difficult to find something in his cakes to complain.

Peeta took his mother's artistic essence. She is good at crafts, always painting the bakery sign with elegant calligraphy, decorate them with flower designs.

Mrs. Mellark would be a good artist if it weren’t for her complete lack of imagination. For her the books are nonsense, and the illustrations are children’s drawings.

That’s why she didn’t let Peeta draw too much when he was growing up. “go do something useful.” She said “You will not learn to knead bread making doodles.”

She never wanted to be a baker, she never wanted the life she chose, but she knew it was the only way. Her father was a drunk, her mother was neurotic

She didn't choose her husband out of love. She chose him because he was stable, because he was disciplined, because he could be a good father. She didn't have children because she wanted to be a mother, but because she needed more hands to work.

The first was planned, the second tolerated, the third an accident.

After the games, when Peeta returned home, limping and with deep-set eyes. She went to visit him a few times in the victors village.

Peeta's house wasn't organized like she taught him to leave his room. Was a mess. His room was full of pages with scribbles, tubes of paint amd unfinished paintings. Art and more art, everywhere... Mrs. Mellark didn't even know that her son still painted. After he became a teenager, was good at hiding who he really was from his mother. She never saw him draw again, but the truth is that the little artist she tried to repress so much never stopped drawing.

Drawings of landscapes and places, many doodles from the small bakery where he grew up. Drawings of people, neighbors, customers, many drawings of the hunting girl. Peeta paints her much better than she really looks, without marks, without scars, without the frown she has. For Mrs. Mellark, it's just another sign of the madness her son has fallen into.

To the woman’s surprise, she find some drawings of herself, all unfinished. Peeta always seems to stop drawing when he get on her face. Lots and lots of unbedded scribbles of herself. She has always preferred to be feared than loved, to be the tough guy when her soft husband doesn’t have the courage to discipline his children. But it pains her to see that her husband’s drawings at least had the decency to be finished before being thrown into the pile of forgotten scribbles.

Peeta. Her youngest boy. Weak like his father, sentimental, scared, soft. She was perhaps a little heavy on him growing up. She saw how very fragile he was when he was little. He wasn't like his brothers, Peeta was always an outsider. And she always saw that... So she doesn't even try to scold him for the mess in his house.

After he came back to the games she could only see in him the small, scared boy who always tried to hide under her skirt when he was young. And with that memory, comes all the times she pushed him away and told him to become a man. That a six-year-old boy shouldn't cry like a soft girl.

But Mrs. Mellark regrets nothing, even if the memories make her uncomfortable. Was because of that he won the Hunger Games. She taught him to endure, she turned the weak boy into a grown man. She never apologized for that, even though her son hates her forever.

She didn't visit him much in the victor's village, but one of the few times she did, Peeta thought she would fill him with complaints about the dirty house. But she just does said:

"It's not because you're crippled that you have to stay inside this house all day, go sunbathe and open the curtains." And then she left a fresh loaf of bread on the kitchen table and when home.

That was it.

One of the last interactions Peeta had with his mother before she died. Buried under the rubble of the bakery that she fought her entire life to maintain, with the children she raised to become respectable bakers. Men enough to take care of their wives and children. Everything she fought for her entire life was left in ashes and the only one of the boys left was the one she never thought would prosper.

Peeta misses her sometimes.

He thinks his eldest daughter looks like her grandmother a bit. Big blue eyes and dimples on her cheeks. He sometimes thinks he even forgives his mom, not all the time, but sometimes. Peeta misses her discipline and resilience. Sometimes he wants to hear her voice telling him to stop whining and come back with his head held high.

Perhaps the only lesson she taught him and stuck with him until the end is that the Mellarks never give up. Every morning, they wake up early, turn on the oven and work until sunset. That the Mellarks are never content with little, that they never accept mediocrity.

So he teaches his children to lift their heads after a defeat, to try again after they fail. Because The Mellarks never give up.