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aitarose · 4 years

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PROLOGUE | READ CH.1 [UNEDITED] HERE

PAIRING: Zuko x Waterbender!Reader [fem]

PLOT: Princess Y/N finds herself falling for the young Fire Nation prince with the shy smile. As their feelings grow, the childhood lovers face unimaginable challenges together.

TIMEFRAME: Winter 90 AG

WARNINGS: angst, separation

WORD COUNT: 3.4k

A/N: i’m rewriting the chapters i currently have posted as my writing has improved since i first created this series. the prologue is now a mix of the original work and the leaving the north extra.

SERIES MASTERLIST

Crystal clear streams of water circled in repetition around the young Northern princess. Droplets of water failed to rain down onto the stark icy ground as her control was near to perfection.

Y/N’s arms swayed at her sides, her mind fully concentrated on the actions that she was igniting in her vicinity. Soft hums escaped her lips, finding joy in the calming nature that waterbending brought her.

The waning moonlight sparkled around her, giving her a ghostly look and causing her to look like a lost phantom in the wind. The smile on her face was haunting, the look being of pure and utter bliss.

Her footsteps tread lightly, barely making a path on the snow covered hill. Y/N looked to her left amidst her dance, spotting her shadow against the white powder and grinned at the sight.

All that she could see was her silhouette, which was oozing undeniable joy and freedom. Y/N was at one with her most true self—the cause of that true self being the element of water.

Waterbending was the definition of Y/N’s comfort zone. Having the skill mastered at such a young age was unheard of, but it was also the thing that she loved most in the world.

The members of the Northern tribe commonly said that Y/N’s ambition would be the end of her. That her drive for success and perfection would be her great downfall—but in the six-year-old’s mind, it was the one thing that put her at ease.

That and her favorite person in the entire world. Her favorite person who was just drenched in the formerly suspended water. The person who was glaring at her with the most bothered expression Y/N had ever seen.

“It’s freezing!” Yue cried out, wringing out her hair whilst Y/N laughed, falling to the ground in a fit of giggles. Both girls were drenched in water, their formal attire beginning to stick to their bodies in the cold air.

The baffled expression on Yue’s face gave Y/N more joy than the waterbending itself. It wasn’t uncommon for Y/N to give her half-sister a hard time, but at the end of the day Yue loved her, no matter how far her antics were taken.

“Oh, so you think this is funny?” Yue raised her eyebrows, placing her hands on her hips in overall amusement. She opened her mouth wide to give Y/N her next dig. “I’m not the one who looks like a sea sponge!”

Y/N scoffed as she pulled at her frozen clothing, blowing the straying strings of hair away from her clouded eyes. A disgusted look dawned her face in retaliation to Yue’s attempt at an insult.

Yue was naturally kind, nearly incapable of showing bitterness and resentment. Even when her words were in good fun, Y/N hated to see her better half act in any negative way. It simply wasn’t her.

Y/N, herself, on the other hand was the polar opposite of Yue. She was hard on the surface, holding her head high, rather than cowering in fear. She knew that the world wasn’t all good or all bad as she was a realist.

The princesses rivaled each other in every way, but also found true balance in the fact. Yue’s reserved nature versus Y/N’s boldness made them the perfect pair.

However, when they disagreed, though that rarely ever happened, Y/N was always the last to apologize. She’d never admit that she felt inferior to Yue. Their inborn rivalry was unspoken but also undeniable.

As Yue would always have the thing that Y/N wanted most in the world. The one thing that was stolen from her due to her birthright. She’d always be the black sheep of the North without the unconditional love of their people.

The unconditional love that they only showed Yue. Yue who was her half-sister—meaning that half of Y/N wasn’t native to the North, but native to the nation that they feared the most—the Fire Nation.

While Y/N and Yue continued to bicker, chasing each other around in circles and lapping the snowmen that they’d created together, their serene playtime was interrupted by a pair of large arms wrapping around Yue’s waist.

The white-haired girl squealed in surprise, her arms flailed chaotically as Arnook chuckled, watching his two daughters with love in his eyes. As Yue settled in his embrace, he rubbed Y/N’s shoulder gently.

“Spirits, you two feel like icicles.” Arnook’s gaze become concerned. He held Yue in his outstretched arms, inspecting her for any bruises or scratches. “Your mother was worried sick, Yue. You can’t run off without telling us first.”

Yue pouted, pointing at Y/N in exasperation. “Y/N wanted to come out and show me some of her new waterbending moves! I’m sorry, father. We were only having fun.”

Y/N let her head drop as Arnook gave her a disappointed look. He’d told her many times that he didn’t want Yue involved in the progress of her bending as her mastery would also be the reason behind her departure.

The royal chieftain nodded his head, gesturing for Y/N to follow as he carried Yue in his arms back towards the palace. The waterbender trudged behind her father, envying her sister’s state of content.

The walk back to the capital was silent, the only sounds being Yue’s faint snores drifting off in the wind. Y/N’s eyes were on the ground, occasionally lifting to watch her father show his love for her sister.

Her footsteps were light, barely leaving marks of fresh powder on the palace floor as she and Arnook gently closed Yue’s bedroom door. They’d each given her a kiss on the forehead before leaving her to sleep.

Arnook sighed, running a hand down the back of his braided hair. He looked down at his little girl, the one that he’d never meant to have but promised to always protect.

His mind was scrambled, thoughts flying everywhere with no place to settle—whilst Y/N’s soul was unhinged. It was as if it was drifting away, not able to settle in a single place since it never belonged.

“What’s going to happen to me, father?” Y/N whispered, her body shaking in anticipation for what was to come of her fate in the morning. “Why do I have to go away?”

Fear consumed Arnook’s emotions. Fear for the safety of his tribe, the fate of his daughter, the future of his people. He didn’t know what would become of his eldest child—but whatever did happen to Y/N, he knew that it was entirely his fault.

She was only a child. A child that was to be forced to become a slave to the Fire Nation, another pawn in their game to win the war. Arnook had been given six years to raise her under the peace treaty.

The peace treaty that ensured that his eldest waterbending child would be the punching bag of the Fire Nation’s royal family. The treaty that prevented her from having a loving and nurturing childhood.

When he’d first made the deal with Fire Lord Azulon, Arnook hadn’t thought twice about the fate of his future child. He’d agreed for Lady Homura to be sent to the North to mother the infant, not wanting it to be of full Northern blood.

His thought was that if the child was half of Fire Nation genes, he wouldn’t feel so close to it. That he wouldn’t grow to love it as his own, since it wouldn’t truly be a part of his people.

However, what he didn’t take into account was the sight of her beautiful blue eyes and the goodness that radiated from them. At first glance, Arnook knew that he’d do anything to take back his promise—that he’d do anything for his firstborn daughter.

And when she became ill with the sickness that Yue would later contract at birth, he and Homura immediately took her to the spirits—thanking them graciously when the ocean lent its power to extend her lifeline.

Their time as a family was something he’d never forget, but have to learn to live without as their time was up. They didn’t have a sparring moment, not a day left to bask in the glory of being together.

The six years had gone by in a flash, the Fire Nation navy was arriving at dawn, and Y/N and her mother were to be whisked away at once—but at least Y/N was lucky enough to have one final laugh with her sister, making snowmen and dancing under the moonlight.

With her question having remained unanswered, Y/N turned away from her father and sadly left the hall, opening the door to her own bedroom in a hurry to avoid any more of the depressing mood.

She nestled herself beneath her covers, wrapping the blankets around her shivering body. Her mind was restless, insomnia overwhelming her exhaustion and keeping her awake until morning.

Morning which had come far too quickly. Y/N had done her best to ignore the callings and worrying that came from her mother. All she wanted was to run away, to be alone and at peace with her bending wherever she chose to rest.

But Homura had other plans. She needed this transaction to go smoothly, her wish was to make her daughter’s life relieved of the immense stress. She wanted Y/N to be a child without the heinous responsibilities that had been thrust upon her.

So, as they said their final goodbyes, Homura watched Y/N’s expressions. She watched how her daughter put on a brave face, how she shook her father’s hand rather than giving him a hug.

It was a saddening sight to see. A mere child, a six-year old girl, giving up her entire world to please a man who put his honor over his own family. A man who was letting his flesh and blood enter the lion’s den.

However, in Y/N’s mind this was perfectly normal. She was content with the interaction, considering the love Arnook had once shown her had diminished over the years.

This was their final moment as father and daughter. A moment of silence and respect for the act they were following through with. There was no love in their exchange, but apologies for the future of their bond.

Their bond that would inevitably be broken by the influence and hardships that the Fire Nation would teach Y/N. After all, a child has the most influential brain of any living being.

The minute Y/N and Homura stepped foot on the navy ship, they’d become members of the rivaling nation. Members of the nation that threatened lives and good fortunes.

But a second before boarding the militant boat, Y/N paused to wave a goodbye to her sister who’d been calling out to her in agony. Yue’s cries could be heard over the crowd’s roar, despair ringing in the breeze.

Y/N’s gaze met Yue’s tear-filled eyes. She pursed her lips into a sad smile, giving her an acknowledging nod, and turned away—disappearing in the vast sea of Fire Nation soldiers.

The heat was indescribable, differing greatly from the cold and sullen air that Y/N was used to. The sun was clear in this part of the world, no clouds or mountains blocking its natural light.

Beams of gold reflected off the towers of the palace and the top of the soldier’s helmets. Everything appeared to be shiny, sparkling, and new in direct relation to the power the nation held.

Not to mention that the only visible color was red. Red tapestries of frightening men, crimson artifacts lining the shelfs, torches filled with waning fire hung from the walls—it was all so intimidating.

Homura was shaking with fear beside her daughter, clinging onto her arm tightly. She hadn’t been to her home country since the talk of her daughter’s conception, choosing to reside in the North rather than face the shame of her deed.

Y/N squeeze her mother’s hand, sensing the nerves that were radiating off of her body like the plague. She looked straight ahead, showing Homura that confidence was the only way to handle the situation.

Despite being the age of six, Y/N had more courage than the average man. She was truly an enigma of her people, of both the Fire Nation and the Northern Water Tribe.

“It’s going to be alright, mother.” The young girl’s face went stoic, all emotion disappearing from her features. Homura would’ve been concerned had it not been for the little finger taps on her palm.

The guards that had been leading them into the palace opened the doors to the grand throne room, leading to the Fire Lord. The mother and daughter pair walked side by side, stepping in synchrony.

They stopped their strut at the large throne, bowing deeply in respect to their new leader, knowing that his policies were to be far different from those of Arnook’s.

Azulon was seated far above the rest of the room’s inhabitants, that being of a woman and a stern man, a girl around Y/N’s age, and a bearded general who was sitting respectively in the corner.

“Fire Lord Azulon,” Homura’s eyes rose from the floor to Azulon. Her lip quivered in anticipation for whatever it was that he would throw at her. “We are honored to be in your presence.”

The older man laughed maniacally, his placid expression turning into a sneer. Y/N noticed the coldness behind his amber irises and the apathetic look in his steely glare.

“Homura.” He looked down his nose, disgusted at the sight of her pleading face. “How humbling it must’ve been for you, a Lady of my nation, to become nothing but a mistress for a water tribe savage.”

Y/N’s head shot up in anger as she noticed her mother flinching in retaliation to his comments. She opened her mouth to speak, thankfully being interrupted by sparse giggles coming from the other child in the room.

The waterbender’s eyes narrowed at the girl, noticing how she presented herself. She was obviously important, the vanity that she expressed was evident of itself. Y/N could only assume that she must be the infamous Princess Azula.

While Y/N found frustration in Azula’s amusement, her father, Ozai, was entertained. He seemed to be used to his daughter’s sociopathic tendencies. He waved his hand aimlessly at her, causing her to quickly quiet down.

“Calm now, Azula.” Ozai gestured to the woman sitting next to him, causing her to stand obediently and approach Y/N with ease. “We have some more terms to discuss, without any children present.”

Homura let go of Y/N’s hand, her daughter hanging on as long as she possibly could to show her support and love. She frowned, leaving the throne room, wishing that she could stay and comfort her frightened mother.

However, there was an unspoken comfort in Ursa’s presence. Something that Y/N had failed to feel in all of her brief time in the Fire Nation thus far. It was obvious that Ursa was unlike any of her companions.

They swiftly made their way past the various guards and tapestries in the interior of the palace, entering a sunlit garden filled with a vast array of fire lilies and turtle ducks.

“Come sit, my dear.” Ursa took a seat on the ledge of the fountain, patting the spot next to her. The long sleeves of her robes dipped into the water as she welcomed Y/N with ease.

The waterbender happily obliged, already feeling comfortable with the woman that she could now call a friend—her first friend that she’d made in the Fire Nation.

As she sat, Y/N took Ursa’s hands in hers, noticing the sopping fabric dripping onto her lap. The girl slowly began to separate the water from her soaked clothing, the beads of dew landing in the streaming fountain.

Ursa watched in awe, admiring the natural skill and passion Y/N displayed in her bending. She’d never seen waterbending in person, but she could only assume that it was a beautiful art by the way Y/N was delicately performing it.

“Thank you,” Ursa whispered, the warmth in her heart growing solemn as she realized what would become of Y/N’s skill and purpose. “You have a kind soul, Princess Y/N.”

“But as long as you remain in this palace, the future will not treat you kindly.” Her brows furrowed, sympathizing with the struggles Y/N would come to face. “My husband expects you to be an opponent that matches Azula’s skill.”

The light behind Ursa’s eyes went dull as she recalled all of the horrible and dishonorable things her husband had done throughout their marriage. “I only wish that I could protect you from the pain that he’ll cause.”

Y/N shook her head in retaliation, a hardened look dawning her face. She’d grown up hearing stories about Azulon and his dangerous son. She knew what they were capable of, yet she wasn’t afraid. She couldn’t afford to be afraid.

Her stoney gaze locked with Ursa’s one of sadness. They held their stare for a moment, a mutual understanding spoken between them. A grim smile eventually rose on the woman’s lips, before taking notice of Y/N’s eyes.

On the left laid a beautiful dark blue iris, similar to the depths of the dark ocean and the strength that it represented—and on the right, was a dim white in comparison to the stunning blue.

The waterbender’s mismatched sight was a direct result from her illness as an infant. A direct result from the borrowed power of the ocean spirit, La, that was still inhabiting her body.

It was infatuating, the allure of Y/N’s eyes was of nothing that she had ever seen before. A spark of hope rose in Ursa from her new knowledge, a belief was born that perhaps this girl could help this world become good again.

Perhaps Y/N could help her own children become good, truly good despite the influence of their father. Azula was already nearing evil, but Zuko—Ursa knew that her son was better than that.

“Mother?” A faint voice rang through the courtyard, startling Ursa and Y/N and causing them to jump apart. The princess’ gaze searched her surroundings for the owner of the voice, landing on a small boy.

He looked to be her age, perhaps a year or so older than her. She knew he had to be Prince Zuko, there was no other explanation to the way he was carrying around a woven basket full of bread like he owned the place.

“I asked the servants if they had any leftovers for the turtle ducks, and they gave me this whole stack!” Zuko exclaimed, the excitement was noticeable in his voice as he watched where he stepped.

He opened his mouth in preparation to express his happiness to his mother, before his eyes met Y/N’s. Zuko froze in place, analyzing the girl and her appearance.

It was well known that the arrival of Lady Homura and her daughter was earlier that morning. Zuko had skipped out on the first meeting, having dreamt up a million other things to do than meet another snobby princess.

But as he saw her for the first time, Zuko felt somewhat of a connection. It was unexplainable in words, the feelings so intricate and immense. There was just something about her that Zuko couldn’t put his finger on.

Y/N herself was having a similar realization at the sight of the prince. Rather than noticing his entire appearance, she settled on the color of his eyes and how different they were to that of his father’s.

The amber in them reflected off of the water in the fountain, shimmering in the sunlight that bounced off of the cherry blossom trees. She could tell that he was the black sheep of the royal family as his eyes held something that no others did—they were kind.

“You must be Princess Y/N.” Zuko calmly said, setting down his basket in front of her and offering her one of the loafs. “I’m Zuko. Would you like to feed the turtle ducks with me?”

Y/N smiled, her first genuine smile in the entirety of her time in the Fire Nation, and nodded, taking it in her palm. She moved aside so he had a seat on the ledge, feeling complete in his presence.

“I’d love to.”

NEXT: CHAPTER ONE [UNEDITED]

TAGS: @irreplaceable-ecstasy @justab-eautifulmess @whalerus @eridanuswave @theblueslytherin @itsametaphorbriansblog @fire-lady-livi @royahllty @rainedoutdays @zukoatethat @winchestergirl907 @pointlesscoconut @mr-robot-x @wesokkasimp @vernon-dursley @sadgirlnumber92899 @kaylove12 @bigbuckyenergy @appa-gaangnam-style @nmriia @strawberiicreme @sokkassuki @fiantomartell @firelordhesther @user12345321 @lammello@practicallylivesonline @cherryskyies @shell-bells-ringding @xapham @mochminnie @bombardia @xxspqcebunsxx @missmorosis @mysticpeacecrusade @akiris @simpinforsukka

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hazbincalifornia · 3 years

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Midnight Snack

Chapter 25: Blitzo gets peckish.

Warnings: As always, mpreg, and implied animal death. Also stuffing if that needs a tag I guess, and BABY VIOLENCE. (Violence committed by a baby, not against a baby.)

Likes, replies, and reblogs are all appreciated, both here and on ao3!

Ao3 link

Blitzo’s stomach gurgled, and his arms tightened around the pillow that he was hugging to his chest. A fussy, hungry stomach wouldn’t have necessarily been a problem, except for the fact that it had been doing it for the past hour, and he was just about ready to tear it right out of his skin and rip it in half. Acid sloshed around audibly in his empty gut- or maybe the freeloader wanted more room and was just squashing the organ down so much that it had resorted to griping as loudly as it could. Relatable fuckin’ content right there.

Dinner had been two burgers and fries smothered in hot sauce and mayo from the grease trap down the road, which was more than enough to coast through until breakfast. Besides, he’d be damned if the kid was going to make him deal with the grocery store any more than he had to in this condition. No, he was staying right where he was, especially considering he’d been denied any sleep last night. One day low on sleep was manageable with reduced caffeine, two would suck satan’s left tit.

“C’mon, that was enough and you know it, I don’t want you ruining my figure any more than you already have,” he grumbled as the muscles clenched around his stomach, wringing it out like a sponge and drawing a pitiful whine out of his throat. “I’m not gonna just- give in and give you whatever you want, daddy’s gotta do him sometimes and I’m not letting you empty out the fridge. I ate enough, siphon blood outta my system like a normal leech does. I’ve got plenty of that.”

The reply was another gurgling groan and a hard clench as Blitzo’s empty stomach demanded sustenance, this time loud enough to make his middle vibrate even through the pounds of baby. He stuffed the pillow over his mouth, drool leaking down the case and over his chin as he forced out a scream.

He had to take a few seconds to pant before setting a hand on the side of his stomach, fingers drumming. “This is a battle of wills, and I am not letting you win. Your baby-daddy already started all this shit, so I’m just going to treat you the same as him- by ignoring you as long as feasibly possible until you decide to pop up and make everything difficult. Sound good? Yeah, sounds perfect.” There was a nudge from inside and Blitzo nodded in satisfaction at the apparent agreement, settling back down on the bed. He’d gone to sleep hungry plenty of times before, the baby gut notwithstanding, he just had to muscle through this for the next few-

There was no time to muffle the next scream as a sudden pinching pain went from ‘noticeable’ to ‘holy shit who’s tearing up my guts with a chainsaw?’, and there was a thud and a shuffling of feet before Loona started pounding on the door.

“You having a heart attack in there or something?”

Blitzo clutched at his stomach, wheezing as he was clawed apart from the inside out. “N-no!”

“Look, if you die, I’m on the hook for the rent.” Still, there was a semi-worried vibrato to her voice, and he swallowed down the coppery taste flooding up with the saliva to his mouth.

“I’m- fINE-!” His voice pitched up at another pinch-turned-horrorshow and his claws dug all the way through the pillow, stuffing spilling out like viscera.

“What the fuck are you doing in there?” The doorknob jiggled. Where was a portable x-ray when you needed one? Or ultrasound, or whatever the fuck you used to look at a baby that was trying to kill him before it even got out yet. What kind of horrible mouth or claws must it have- oh, fucking hell, Stolas had said something about his kid having a razor-sharp beak from birth, hadn’t he?

“Okay, I’m coming in.” Loona eased the door open, already in her pajamas and clutching a package of opened peanut butter crackers tightly enough that crumbs were sticking to her fingers. “You look like shit.”

“I feel like shit, so good-” Sharp inhale for breath, let it out- “-To know that I’m all on the same page.”

She dropped down on the bed with a metallic creak. “What’d the kid do now?”

“It feels like they’re biting me again, but w-worse- fuck!” Another nip, this one dragging a line on the inside of the womb like they were drift racing in there. Wait, dragging? He swallowed down more coppery bile. “Okay, fine, fine, sheesh, I’ll fuckin’ eat something, happy you little shithead?”

Loona raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t say anything.”

Blitzo shoved himself up off the bed to wobbly knees. “Junior’s gotten real bold, and instead of just sucking up the meat I’m eating for them like a good little lump, they decided to put me on the menu- ow, fuck, I’m going, keep your baby-tits on!”

“Babies don’t have tits, Blitzo.”

“They do if I say they do, sweetie.” Blitzo ruffled Loona’s fur between her ears as he waddled across the room, pausing next to the TV to take a breath.

Loona raised an eyebrow. “Do you need me to bring you something? I don’t want you passing out in the middle of the apartment and tripping over you tomorrow morning.” In response, Blitzo just waved a dismissive hand.

“I can handle walking across two rooms, Loonie.” The active chewing had paused for the moment, but whatever they’d shredded in there was still shredded, and he’d rather not make it any worse- he had work tomorrow, dammit.

The fridge bathed him in a sickly, hospital-like glow as he tugged it open, and drool immediately started leaking from his mouth as the smells of half-forgotten, time-ripened leftovers hit him. A small mouse with four red eyes leaped up from the floor when he opened the door, burrowing into a box of takeout on the bottom shelf that Loona must have gotten when he’d been at Stolas’s place. His tongue snapped out automatically, snatching its furry body up and slurping up the tail between his lips before swallowing, and it took a second for his brain to load enough to register- after it slid down his throat.

Holy shit, did he just…? It squirmed a little as it descended, little hairs stuck in his teeth, and his fingers tightened on the side of his stomach before he reached for the box it had been after to wash out the aftertaste.

Everything after that was a bit of a blur, although he did retain enough sense of mind to avoid the six-pack of cheap beer in the back that still had four cans on it. Better to not risk puking all of this up or ruining the kid any more than they already were. Carbs, meat, a few wilted veggies that Moxxie had pawned off on him, sweet, sour, cold chili and whole untoasted bagels- it didn’t really matter what it was as long as it was at least mostly edible (he was pretty sure he swallowed a wrapper at some point), he just needed it inside of him now. Smothering everything in hot sauce and salsa and mustard made it more palatable anyway, especially the ice cream. The kid didn’t start taking chunks out of him again, at least, so he must have been doing something right. More and more of the white fridge walls became visible as the floor around him littered with containers, and his stomach grew tighter before he finally slumped back against the nearby counter with a groan. His legs sprawled out on the cool tile, both hands now stained with a mixture of about five kinds of leftovers, and he cradled his stomach after muffling a burp.

“Are you happy now, you needy little shit?”

Blitzo didn’t really expect a reply and almost didn’t hear it over the churning gurgles of digestion, but a soft ‘eee’ of a hoot, more a whisper-screech than anything, murmured from his midsection. He stared down at it, the warmth of his full stomach counteracted by ice dripping down his back.

“Oh, of course you sound just like him.” His claws dragged along the sensitive, itchy-while-stretched skin before the protection spell sprung up and pushed the fingers away. It only let him touch his own stupid body when he laid his palm flat. “Sure, it’s cute now when it's all little and squeaky, but you’d better not be as entitled as he is, alright? Or as you are now, since I’ve gotta do everything for you until you’re born. Considering you just settled right down in there without even asking in the first place, I doubt it. Rude.”

There were no more noises other than his stomach grumbling about going from empty to full so quickly, and he stayed slumped against the cabinet for long enough to let some of it digest. He must have been more tired than he thought, because he swore that he already looked bigger than he’d been when he’d finished binging. Maybe it started swelling in a bad reaction from whatever fucked-up food cocktail he'd accidentally made.

When he didn’t feel quite so much like a boulder had gotten stuffed inside his guts, it took three tries to haul his ass off the tile and drag himself back to bed, huffing like a cop running for the last doughnut in the process.

The ice had crept from his spine to the rest of his bones and muscles as he tugged the blanket tight around himself, but at least the churning food kept his stomach warm, and he passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

#insert that one link image with 'it's my fic and I get to write the self-indulgent bs'#I could have gotten more descriptive but then it woulda been like... the longest chapter and I'm not giving that to THIS #it is plot relevant though I promise #one time #daddy blitzo #shadow writes stuff #helluva mpreg #chub stuff

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oflockhearted · 4 years

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@hiislegacy

Kadaj

"Just sit still, ok? I'll make this quick." Soft hands gently slip under the hemming of Kadaj's new t-shirt, pulling it up over his head and discarding it over the shower curtain. She pulls over a ceramic wash basin full of soapy water, reaching inside its contents for a sponge and proceeds to wash away crusted blood and pus from his healing wounds.

It was quiet; besides the occasional sounds of Tifa wringing excess water from the blood covered sponge. But she figured it was better than having him yelling at her, or trying to fight her to the floor like a wild beast. "...Is this too hot? Too cold?" She asks, gently blotting the stitches. "How about after this, we wash your hair too? I actually have something that can make silver hair much more lustrous and shiny. Thinl that'll suffice?" Her lips curl into a tiny smile as she reaches over for the detachable shower head.

After helping Kadaj back inside his room, Tifa slowly sets him on the bedside before rummaging in the nightstand drawers.

Reaching for a bag of cotton rounds and rubbing alcohol, she gently sets them aside whilst getting them prepared for another round of...painful blotting. "Just like before Kadaj, I'm going to apply rubbing alcohol to your wounds to keep them clean. Its going to sting...like last time. Ready?" She applies the medicated cotton against the remnant's wounds, hearing them fizzle and pop against the alcohol soaked cotton round. "Doing ok?" Tifa asks, as she was willing to remove the pressure if he refused another painful application, as she had all the time in the world to tend to him right now. "Okay. Let's keep going." She dabs over his other various wounds, cuts, and scabs around his back, neck, abdomen and chest. Suddenly, she gets down on her knees between his legs, only to lift up one of his pant legs and repeat the same ritual with the cotton rounds once more.

As she finished, she helps herself back to her feet with his knees as her ample chest lightly grazes against his groin. She discards the blood-soaked applicators into a small bin before wandering over to the other side of the room and offering him a new clean shirt. "Here. I also changed your sheets so you're not laying in old blood and pus. Do you want me to give you some space?"

#hiislegacy #;ac #gif #nsfw-ish #blood tw #//LOOOOL

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sneezehq · 3 years

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From the Inside

Being hurt by someone you care about can tear you apart-sometimes literally.

Sometimes, you just gotta shove all your WIPs to the side and write some platonic hanahaki disease. You just gotta. There isn't enough out there imo. Content warning for mentions of blood. Enjoy!

Yang doesn't say it back. The silence in response to her quiet "I love you" is deafening, and Ruby ends up fleeing the room to avoid bursting into tears in front of her sister. The lack of words cuts her more deeply than any wound ever could.

Over the next few weeks, Ruby tries repeatedly to get through to her sister, to talk about what happened. They've lost so much, and her chest feels tight and heavy with guilt and grief, but at least they're still together, right?

But Yang doesn't seem to see it that way.

The stony silences when Ruby tries to talk to her sister quickly turn to angry yells and doors slammed in her face. Yang obviously hurting, and Ruby wants to—needs to—help her sister, but she's not sure how she's supposed to do that when Yang won't even look at her.

"Your sister just needs time," her father tries to reassure her, but the sentiment doesn't soothe Ruby at all. With every second she can feel Yang slipping further and further away, and she worries that if she can't pull her sister back soon, she'll lose her completely to anger and grief. She just wishes she could figure out how to help.

When she runs into Jaune while on a trip into Vale for groceries, it's the first spark of hope that Ruby has felt in a long time. She pulls him aside and they talk for a while, about what happened at Beacon, their shared grief, what they've been doing since the fall. Jaune expressed his frustration at being forced to just sit around doing nothing, and his desire to track down Pyrrha's killers and make them pay for what they did.

And this, Ruby realizes, is something she can actually help with. She knows where they could start looking—Cinder, Mercury, and Emerald had said that they were from Haven, and Qrow had told her that's where he was headed when he left. It makes sense to start there.

Maybe it's not the best idea that Ruby has ever had, but Jaune's face lights up when Ruby tells him what she knows. It's been so long since she's been able to help, to be useful, that she quickly finds herself agreeing to the trip. Jaune, too, seems brighter; there's a spring in his step as he leaves, promising to talk to Ren and Nora and stop by her house in a few days.

On the trip home, Ruby feels lighter than she has in months. She's been trapped inside their house for what feels like ages, stuck in place, watching the leaves change from summer to fall to winter. Now she has the chance to do something besides lying around feeling sorry for herself. She needs to do this.

She doesn't tell her father. There's no way he'd agree to let her go—he'd insist that it was too dangerous, she wasn't ready, all of his usual complaints. He hadn't even wanted her to go to Beacon when she'd be accepted early. He would definitely try to stop her. She'll leave him a note to explain things instead.

As Blake had pointed out before (and there's a pang in Ruby's chest as she thinks of her friend. She hopes that Blake is safe, wherever she is), the real world doesn't care if they're ready or not. The enemies surrounding them aren't going to wait to pounce until they graduate. They're out there, and right now Ruby has a chance to try to stop them from hurting more people.

It's now or never.

She does, however, tell her sister. Deep down, she knows that her sister is in no condition to go anywhere. She knows that her sister still needs to process her own guilt and grief and rage before she can move forward, but she also knows that it wouldn't feel right if she didn't at least make the offer.

Yang, predictably, rejects it. She calls the idea stupid, and reckless, and pigheaded. Ruby was expecting that much. What she wasn't expecting, was the venom in her sister's tone and the disdain in her eyes as she shouts at Ruby. "What do you think you're trying to do?" her sister asks, glaring at her incredulously. "There's no way that the four of you are going to accomplish anything besides getting yourselves killed. Just like Pyrrha."

Ruby forces herself to meet her sister's gaze. "You don't know that," she says, voice quivering in the face of her sister's rage. "We can still do something. We have to at least try."

"Fine," Yang retorts, laughing bitterly. "Go on. Leave. I don't care."

Ruby flees the room after that, furiously blinking back tears. The first time her sister manages to look her in the eye since they came home, and it's to look at her with such disgust that Ruby just wants to sink into the floor. She shuts her door behind her and lets herself fall against it, sliding down to the floor and pulling her knees to her chest with a sob. The dull pain in her chest that's become a constant companion in the months following the Fall of Beacon spikes suddenly, and she's overcome with a coughing fit. She gasps for air weakly as it feels like a hand has seized her heart and lungs and squeezed them, trying to wring them out like a sponge.

She's breathless and lightheaded when the fit finally stops, but she scrubs a hand across her mouth and forces herself to her feet anyway. They've leaving in the morning. She needs to pack if she's going to be ready.

The next morning dawns bright and early, and Ruby shivers as she slips out of her pajamas and into her usual huntress clothes. The weight of her ammo belt and Crescent Rose at her hip is soothing, and though her chest feels tight with guilt and worry she finds herself breathing a sigh of relief. She slips out the front door easily, locking it behind her without a sound.

With one last glance behind her, Ruby squares her shoulders and prepares to head to the meeting spot they'd agreed on. She can feel a pair of eyes on her back as she walks, but she forces herself not to look over her shoulder at the window she knows that Yang is watching her from.

Her sister has already made her choice. That much is clear. Now it's time for Ruby to follow through on hers.

But, distancing herself from Yang doesn't relieve the constant guilt she feels at leaving her sister behind. The constant pangs in her chest—of hurt, of longing, of grief—don't go away no matter how far they walk, and the humid climate of Anima doesn't seem to help any. Breathing is more difficult than it should be, and Ruby finds herself out of breath more often than not. But the others are dealing with their own share of hardships, so Ruby refuses to let herself complain as they continue to press onward.

Sleep, too, is difficult. When she's not jolting awake from terrifying nightmares, she keeps finding herself jerked awake by fits of coughing that leave her exhausted and breathless. Other than the ever-present exhaustion from multiple nights of interrupted sleep, she doesn't really feel sick. It's probably nothing. Maybe something in the air just doesn't agree with her.

When they finally arrive in Haven and get a chance to catch up on some much-needed rest, Ruby expects to feel better, for her mysterious symptoms to clear up on their own, and she finds herself increasingly frustrated when they don't. Especially since the others have started to notice that something is wrong.

"That cough doesn't sound good," Jaune notes with a frown.

"Yeah," Ruby agrees breathlessly—because what else can she say? "I think it's just the mountain air. I'm sure it'll stop soon."

"You were coughing before we got here, though," Nora points out. Ren nods in agreement.

"Please try not to push yourself too hard," Professor Ozpin chimes in, green eyes bright with worry. "Please do let one of us know if you need to take a few days off to rest."

Ruby clears her throat, trying her best to hide her simmering irritation. "Really, guys. I'm fine," she insists with a reassuring smile. "Let's get back to training already."

But the cough doesn't go away. If anything, it gets worse, and Ruby finds herself sidelined more and more during practice, out of breath before any of the others, even Oscar, have even broken a sweat. It's increasingly frustrating, especially since there's no reason for her to be feeling this way.

And then comes the flowers.

She's awoken one night by an incredibly harsh coughing fit. She gasps and coughs, wheezing desperately for air and hoping that the fit will end soon, before she passes out from the lack of air. It feels like something is stuck in her throat, blocking her from taking any air in—but with a few more coughs, she can feel something loosening in her chest, and she feels something tumble into the hand she has cupped over her mouth.

The coughs finally subside, and she pulls her hand away from her face to reveal a yellow flower petal, crumpled and stained with a few specks of blood, sitting innocently in her palm. A sunflower petal, she notes absently.

It's not exactly the first time Ruby has coughed up flower petals—when she was first learning to use her semblance, she would occasionally choke on the rose petals accompanying her semblance if she forgot to keep her mouth shut. But this is different, feels different, no matter how much she tries to convince herself that she's fine.

After a few more bouts of coughing up flower petals—this time the sunflower petals are accompanied by gardenia and lavender—Ruby finally decides that it's time to tell someone. She goes to Professor Ozpin, because if anyone would know about the cause, it would be him. Unfortunately, the former headmaster seems to be just as clueless as she is.

"I'm sorry, Miss Rose, but I'm afraid I don't know what might be causing this." He sighs heavily. "I believe I heard about a similar case about two hundred years ago, but at the time the records were so sketchy that I can't tell you anything more."

Ruby slumps slightly in disappointment. "Thanks anyway, Professor," she replies, voice hoarse from the endless bouts of coughing.

"I will do my own research into the matter, and I will most certainly let you know if I find anything that could help," he promises her, a sympathetic look on his face. "In the meantime, I suggest you try not to overexert yourself."

"Yes, sir," she agrees reluctantly.

And so Ruby finds herself relegated to less strenuous tasks such as helping with the cooking and cleaning instead of training. She tries to rest and distract herself from her boredom by reading her comics, but none of it seems to help much. Her cough doesn't go away—and neither do the flowers.

If anything, her cough is worse, and the flowers and blood have only increased. She's now coughing up whole flowers instead of the occasional petal (and coughing up an entire sunflower has to count as one of the more painful experiences of her life). And Ozpin's research doesn't appear to be getting him anywhere. Ruby is starting to wonder if she should just hunker down and prepare to ride this out for who knows how long until she starts to feel better.

And then Yang is there.

The evening starts off ordinarily enough. Ruby bickers with Ren over the best way to cook the ramen they're making, Nora chops the vegetables while sneaking a bite from time to time, and Jaune sets the table—when suddenly, Oscar comes skidding into the kitchen, green eyes glowing faintly. "Ruby!" he announces abruptly. "There's something I need to talk to you about!"

She spins around immediately, narrowly avoiding smacking Ren in the face with one of her flailing arms. "Uh, sure, just give me a minute—"

"Ruby!" Qrow calls from the living room. "I'm back."

"Be right there!" she calls back, before turning back to Oscar. "Let me go see what Qrow wants. We can talk in a little bit, okay?"

Oscar nods hastily. "Ruby!" her uncle yells.

"I'm coming!" She grabs the tea set and scurries out of the kitchen.

She's babbling as she enters the living room—about what, she doesn't remember—but her train of though screeches to a halt when she looks up and sees Weiss—and her sister—standing behind Qrow. The tray slips from her hands and falls to the floor with a deafening crash, but Ruby doesn't even hear it. All she can do is gape in shock at her sister, standing there across from her like it hasn't been months since they've seen each other.

Yang steps forward, and Ruby flinches back, hands flying to her chest as a pang of guilt threatens to overwhelm her. She swallows hard past the lump in her throat and babbles out a stream of apologies, trying to find the right words to mend the rift between her sister and her.

And then Yang is hugging her, and Ruby is frozen in shock. "I love you," her sister murmurs, pulling Ruby in close.

For the first time in months, the weight on Ruby's chest finally seems to lighten. "I love you too!" she squeaks out, sobbing in relief as tears stream down her cheeks. The constant pressure in her chest suddenly dissipates, sending Ruby into a fit of coughing as her lungs expand fully for the first time in months.

"Ruby!" her sister shouts in alarm. "Are you okay?"

The coughs go away just as quickly as they started, and Ruby feels relieved to find that she can breathe easily now. Whatever was wrong with her before, with the coughing and the blood and the flowers, she has a feeling that it's gone now.

She smiles reassuringly at her sister, pulling her in for another hug. "I am now."

#rwby #ruby rose #yang xiao long #strawberry sunrise #hanahaki disease #hurt/comfort #sickfic #fanfic #my writing #blood cw

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blurry-fics · 5 years

Text

Chapter Thirteen

Realize That It’s Gone | Series Masterlist

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 2165

Author’s Note: I’m glad all of you were enjoying Tyler finally stepping out of his comfort zone a little in the last chapter :) and I hope you enjoy this chapter too! (picture credit)

“Did you need the soap?” Tyler asked.

You leaned over a little so that you could better see into the plastic bucket that you were currently filling with the hose.

“Yeah, do you mind bringing it over here?”

Tyler grabbed the bottle of soap that you had carried out from the garage and handed it to you. You tried to take it with your free hand, but you quickly realized you wouldn’t be able to hold it, open it, and fill the bucket up at the same time.

“And can you open it?” you asked, giving him your best cheesy smile.

Tyler sighed dramatically, but it was only for show. He happily took the bottle back from you and unscrewed the cap.

“Do you want me to pour it too?” he asked, mouth curled up into a half-smile.

“If you don’t mind.”

Tyler began to dump soap into your half-filled bucket. Bubbles began to form along the top, swirling around the edge. Pretty soon, bubbles were the only thing you could see.

“Ty! Tyler! Stop, that’s too much soap,” you giggled, reaching out to put a hand on his arm.

“What? Oh, sorry. The bubbles were mesmerizing.”

Tyler put the cap back on the bottle and set it off to the side before wandering back over to sit in the grass. You had decided to invite him over to wash your cars together - a task that you had been meaning to do anyway - so that you could figure out exactly where you stood with him, now that you had been on your date with Josh. Although Tyler had said he was cool with the entire situation, you had a gut feeling that things weren’t exactly as they seemed.

Not to mention that you were still trying to work out your own feelings.

“Ok,” you announced as you wandered around the side of the house to shut the water off. “I think we’re ready.”

“Do you have sponges?”

“Yeah, they’re by the bucket!”

By the time you arrived back in the driveway, Tyler had already slathered the hood of his car in soapy water. Even if you didn’t end up clearing anything up with him today, you were glad that Tyler’s car would at least get washed, for once.

“It’s looking better already,” you smiled as you grabbed your own sponge.

“Hey, the dirt on my car is part of its character.”

“How do you expect to get a date if your car is filthy?”

“If a girl can’t look past my filthy car, then she doesn’t deserve to experience all of this,” Tyler said, reaching his dry hand up to run dramatically through his hair.

You snorted and continued to scrub the dirt off your own car. “Is there anyone you’re interested in, Ty?”

From where you were standing on the far side of the car, there was no way for you and Tyler to see one another. You were glad for it, you weren’t entirely sure that you would be able to keep your face from betraying more information than you intended it to.

“There is one person, but I don’t know if it’s going to happen.”

“Why not?” you asked, scrubbing the side of your car a little more vigorously.

“The timing just didn’t work out.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” You swallowed hard. At least this was confirming one thing you wanted to find out.

“It’s alright.”

You wandered back around the front of your car. Your intention was to dunk your sponge back in the bucket, but instead you found yourself admiring Tyler. He was carefully scrubbing at the side of his own car, unaware of you standing just a few feet away. His arms tensed as he moved them back and forth, occasionally pausing to scrub extra hard at a bit of dirt.

You shook your head and redirected your attention to the task at hand. Half of your car still needed to be scrubbed with soap before you could even consider rinsing, and each minute that you spent in the hot sun was making you more tempted to go inside. Sitting around and staring at Tyler was not an option.

For more reasons than one.

It only took another twenty minutes for you to be content with the cleanliness of your car. During that time, you and Tyler made conversation and cracked jokes at one another’s expense, as was typical between you two. You had tried on numerous occasions to bring up your date with Josh, but you kept chickening out before you could ask what his true feelings about it were.

“Hey, Y/N!” Tyler called from the far side of his car. “Catch!”

You turned just in time to see Tyler throw a sponge in your direction. Before you could fully register that you would need to move your arms in order to catch it, it hit you squarely in the shoulder. Your shirt was soaked immediately.

“Ty-ler!” you groaned. “You’re going to pay for that.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it.”

Making a split second decision, you dropped your own sponge and took off for the side of the house where the hose was still sitting, ready to be used. Tyler caught on immediately and took off after you, made evident by the sound of his Vans hitting the pavement behind you. Just as you were about to reach the small gravel path next to the driveway, Tyler wrapped his arms around you from behind and pulled you into his chest.

“Tyler! Not fair! I need my revenge.”

“No you don’t,” he laughed.

His arms were warm where they were wrapped around you, if not a bit damp from scrubbing down the entirety of his car with a sponge. The two of you were still moving around slightly, trying to find a comfortable balance after Tyler had just about knocked you straight into the gravel. Part of you never wanted to find that balance, just so you had an excuse to keep his arms around you.

“Ok, for real, I need to get the hose so we can wash our cars off.”

“Promise you won’t spray me with it?”

You crossed the fingers of the hand that was against your chest, out of Tyler’s line of sight. “Promise.”

Tyler released you from his grip and you stumbled forward a little, regaining your own balance now that Tyler was no longer holding on to you. He stood off to the side and watched as you carefully unraveled the hose before turning the water on. In order to avoid suspicion, you carried the hose back to the driveway and began to wash the soap off of your car.

“Are you going to rinse my car for me or am I going to have to snag the hose from you at some point?” Tyler asked.

“We’ll see how nice I’m feeling,” you giggled.

You carefully watched Tyler as he wandered off towards his own car. Right as he reached the far side of it, you turned the hose on him. He immediately turned away from the water, though it continued to splash against the hood up onto his back. After a few seconds, you turned the hose back to your own car. You didn’t feel like being too cruel.

“Y/N!” he said, turning back to you. His hair was soaking wet and falling down into his face now. “You promised!”

“I had my fingers crossed,” you smirked as you continued to casually rinse soap off your car.

“I should have known something was up when you gave in that easily.”

“Ok, what do you say we call it even, finish washing the cars, and then go inside and have lunch?”

“I say that’s fair, as long as you give me a change of clothes.”

“I can do that.”

Tyler tried to wring out his shirt while you finished rinsing all of the soap off your cars. Once that was done and the two of you finished putting all the supplies away, you ran upstairs and grabbed Tyler some of Carter’s old clothes that he had given you. It was just a t-shirt and a pair of basketball shorts similar to what Tyler had already been wearing, aside from the fact that they weren’t soaked.

While Tyler was changing, you grabbed some fruit you had cut up with dinner the night before and made sandwiches. You decided that making Tyler’s lunch would be your peace offering for completely soaking his clothes, since it hadn’t been your intention to get that much revenge.

“How do I look?” Tyler asked as he rounded the corner.

You held back a laugh at Tyler’s appearance. The shirt fit him surprisingly well. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought it was one of his own. The shorts, on the other hand, were a bit loose on him, meaning that they had been cinched tight around his waist to keep them from falling down his hips.

“Never better,” you smiled as you finished making the second sandwich.

Tyler walked over and leaned against the edge of the counter, drumming his fingers against it. You finished putting away all the things you had pulled out from the cupboards before grabbing the two plates and handing one to him.

“Want to eat outside?” you asked.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

You led Tyler outside and took a seat on the edge of the porch. He followed suit, leaving hardly any space between the two of you. Every time you went to take a bite of your sandwich, your arm inevitably ended up brushing against his.

You sat quietly for awhile, enjoying your food and Tyler’s company. It wasn’t until Tyler had come back from tour that you realized how much you missed days like these, just hanging out and not worrying about anything else going on in your lives. Today was just another reminder about why Tyler meant so much to you.

If only you could work out how he felt about you.

“Has that tree always been there?” Tyler asked, gesturing to the other side of the yard.

“Which one? The big one?”

“Yeah.”

“Yes?”

“Oh. Huh.” You reached over and lightly shoved Tyler’s shoulder, making him laugh. “I never noticed it before!”

“How? It’s right there.”

“I guess I just never paid that much attention.”

You sighed and took a bite of a piece of fruit. Next to you, Tyler had already finished his food and had decided to lean back on his hands.

“Hey, Ty?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something serious?”

He leaned forward again, this time resting his elbows on his knees. You could just make out his profile from the corner of your eye.

“Sure.”

“When you said that you were ok with me and Josh going on a date… did you mean it?”

Tyler took a deep breath before he answered. “Of course I did. Why would I lie?”

“Because you care about me and it isn’t unheard of for you to sacrifice something of your own to make me happy.”

“I guess,” Tyler sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck, “it’s just uncomfortable, you know? To see the two of you together like that. It’s weird feeling like a third wheel when you’re with your two best friends.”

“I’m sorry, Ty. I had no idea it made you feel like that.”

“No, it’s ok. You two are happy, so that’s cool to see.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, wondering if you should speak the words that were really on your mind.

“Is it?”

Tyler turned his head towards you, meeting your eyes. His mouth was curled up into a partial smile, but you had known him long enough to recognize when it didn’t reach his eyes. There was a certain sadness to the way he was looking at you.

“Of course it is. All I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy, Y/N. You and Josh deserve one another.”

You wanted to push further and ask why he had acted the way he did in the kitchen when you first brought up the date. You wanted to know why he kept flirting with you, even when you had shown such clear interest in Josh. Most importantly, you wanted to know why he wouldn’t just tell you the truth, no matter how hard you tried to get it from him.

“Thanks, Ty,” you mumbled.

“Are you going to go on another date with him?”

You set your food down next to you and leaned forward, burying your face in your hands. “I have no idea.”

“Because of me?”

“Because of a lot of things.”

He reached out and rested a hand on your back, lightly rubbing the area between your shoulder blades. It was comforting.

“Don’t let me impact your decision, ok? We’ll make it work, whatever it is. I’ll be ok with whatever you choose.”

No, Tyler. I don’t think you will.

* * * * *

Taglist

@faceofcontvsions @ohprettyweeper @tylersheavydirtysoul @topownsmyheart @schrodingersjustine @heythereitm3 @leam-2001 @breadbinishigh @wearebxnditos @iguessimsatan @harishaanne @5secondsofmoxley @patdsinner33 @littlerachelbee @iamnotawasteofspace @nostalgic1975 @fruityfreddie @gaysludge

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classified-bluerose · 5 years

Text

put me back together part III - quentin beck x reader

chapter 3: devoted to destruction

a/n: title from ‘’sucker for pain’’ by lil wayne, feat. B.O.B, wiz khalifa, logic, imagine dragons & x ambassadors. (😅)

warnings: manipulative quentin, brief & vague description of a panic attack, canon-typical violence, suggestive content toward the end but not really nsfw.

a/n 2: i’m rlly not sure how i feel about this lol but here you go!!!

(GIF is not mine)

—

it’s all going so well. as he prepares to ‘’sacrifice’’ himself in order to save the world from the final elemental, he hears your voice screaming his name. behind the fishbowl helmet that obscures his face, he smiles. you sound terrified, heartbroken, devastated. you think you’re going to lose him, and a surge of pride flows through his veins as he realises your feelings for him are real.

don’t worry, honey, he thinks to himself, you’re not going to lose me.

both you and parker rush to his side once the monster has disappeared; you drop to your knees and put your hand on his cheek. he groans and leans into it, hears the shuddering relief in your breathing as his eyes blink open. the first thing he sees is your face, covered in smoke and bruises.

as parker helps him to his feet, you punch him, hard, in the arm.

‘’ hey! ‘’

you are furious. a fire dancing in your eyes, mesmerising in it’s heat. ‘’ you idiot! you idiot - why would you do that? are you trying to get yourself killed?! ‘’

quentin takes your shoulders in his hands and squeezes firmly, but soothingly. offering a crooked, weary smile. ‘’ it’s okay, ‘’ he soothes, ‘’ it’s okay. it’s over, it’s okay. ‘’

your jaw clenches and you nod once before pulling away from him in irritation. he understands; once the immediate aftermath has worn off he knows you’ll cool down. this anger is nothing more than passion and care.

fury shakes quentin’s hand and offers him a job - quentin plays along, impatient now, wanting to have that moment with you when you’d give in to the relief and rush into his arms. the moment he knew was going to be worth waiting for.

—

at the base, again, you’re the last two left. he meets your gaze and smiles. ‘’ still mad at me? ‘’ he questions, softly. you roll your eyes, but it’s fonder. you cross the floor and push at his torso, nudging him into a chair.

he looks up at you, a question in the rise of his eyebrows. ‘’ you look like shit, ‘’ you tell him, blunt, ‘’ i’ll get some water. clean yourself up. ‘’

you bustle around the place and return with a bowl of hot water and a cloth. you move as though to hand it to him, then change your mind and dip it into the steaming liquid. wringing it out, you lift it to his face and push back the stray hairs from his forehead. carefully and intimately sponging off the dirt and blood.

quentin relaxes against the chair; his eyes fluttering shut. heart skipping a beat at the intimacy of your actions. silence holds steady, interrupted only by the steady hum of machinery. he only opens his eyes when you start to tug at the heavy armour. with your help he removes it, leaving him in his undersuit. you lean back, then let your hands press lightly to his ribs and belly.

‘’ this hurt? ‘’

quentin shakes his head. watching you, your expression open and warm. your eyes meet his and red blooms on your cheeks.

‘’ what? ‘’ you ask, self-conscious.

quentin smiles. ‘’ you’re beautiful. ‘’

he’s not expecting you to laugh at that, but you do. head ducking away as you attempt to conceal the smile that grows on your lips. it’s the smile you keep hiding from him. the one that betrays too much emotion, the one that makes him feel weightless.

‘’ you are, ‘’ he insists, his fingers brushing the soft skin of your face as he tries to tilt it back to him. you pull away, not fast enough for him to miss the way your breath hitches.

‘’ shut up, ‘’ you mutter, playing with the damp cloth. you reach up again to wipe some dirt off the tip of his nose. his hand comes to touch your wrist. everything slows down, this moment, suspended in time.

quentin tilts his head, curiousity colouring in his endless blue eyes. pale lips part, posing a question.

‘’ can i see? ‘’

you frown. ‘’ see what? ‘’

‘’ your powers. ‘’

you draw away again, face dropping. shoulders slumping, as you shrug. ‘’ i - i don’t know if i can, ‘’ you admit, ‘’ after thanos, i - they’re not working the way they used to. ‘’

quentin leans in and takes your hands in his. ‘’ try, ‘’ he implores, pleading with his eyes. it’s bloody impossible to deny his request, there is no resolve when it comes to him. it’s scary, you’ve never fallen this hard this fast.

you disentangle your hands from his and nod. taking some deep breaths to anchor yourself. you focus on drawing the energy from the air, the heat under your skin simmering.

quentin savours the moment. this picture you paint so beautifully in front of him. lashes brushing your cheeks, chest rising and falling evenly. hands laying palms up on your knees, a muscle in your jaw twitching from effort.

quentin’s eyes only move from your face when a tiny spark ignites between your palms. your eyes fly open, staring down at the flickering flame. as you focus again your hands shape a ball, then a star, then a dancing figure. you look incredibly pleased with yourself, a little pale, but pleased.

as it dissipates into smoke you fall back and grin, tired. quentin shakes his head, face full of wonder. ‘’ wow, ‘’ he breathes out. ‘’ you are incredible. ‘’

‘’ that was nothin’ - when, or if, they ever come back. i’ll show you proper. ‘’

‘’ they’ll come back, ‘’ he tells you, so assured and confident it’s easy to believe.

you sigh and stand up, moving away with the now dirty water. ‘’ it’s late, ‘’ you call over your shoulder, hoping your trembling hands aren’t noticable. he’s too intoxicating. too inviting. any longer alone with him and you might just tip over the edge completely. you hear him moving behind you. feel his presence coming closer. ‘’ you should probably get some rest... ‘’

you wince as your voice shakes and you turn around, his closeness unexpected. he’s looking at you with such a tenderness it almost hurts to see.

‘’ let me walk you home. ‘’ he offers, and you want to let him, want to bring him home too. he thinks he has you where he wants you. but he‘s almost forgotten about the story he told about the other you.

he only remembers when you start to freak out.

‘’ no. no, um. i’m tired, i’m tired and - i’m not her. i’m not her. ‘’

he panics. ‘’ i know, no, wait - ‘’

but you’re spiralling now and it’s too late to stop it. ‘’ i am not her and - and i understand it must be frustrating, okay, i get that, because i look like her, i sound like her - ‘’

‘’ you don’t, ‘’ he tells you, desperately, ‘’ you’re so different, in little ways and big ways, i swear - ‘’

‘’ i gotta go. i have to - this is, ah, this is too much, too soon, and i can’t. i’m sorry. i’m sorry, i just can’t. ‘’

and with that breathless statement you practically sprint out of the base. leaving quentin, stunned, disappointed. and worried.

—

he follows you. partly because he’s afraid that this will mess up his plans. partly because he’s afraid for you. to leave you wandering the streets of prague at night in this state, quentin can’t bear to think about what might happen.

‘’ honey, please, trust me, i- ‘’ his thumbs sweep gentle strokes across your cheekbones, pulling you close to rest his forehead against yours. ‘’ this isn’t me trying to replace her with you, i promise. ‘’

he traces the line of tears down your face. wiping them away with the pad of his thumb. ‘’ quen... ‘’

warmth fills up his chest at the nickname. come on, he urges inwardly, let me in, let me in.

‘’ i’m right here. i’m here, with you. i’m not going anywhere. ‘’

the kiss is their undoing. it begins as a soft press of lips, tentative and cautious. a first meeting, souls edging around and getting to know one another.

it’s you, who bites down softly on quentin’s lower lip, invoking a breathy moan as you part. he stares down at you, wide-eyed and awed. the edges of his mouth curl up into a smug, satisfied smirk - he surges forward then and drags you in, mouth possessing yours, tongue delving in and breath mingling as his arms wind around your waist and hold you against his chest. in a grip as tight as iron, as solid as vibranium.

quentin doesn’t just kiss you - he consumes you. hands coming to touch and caress and feel and grasp, wherever they can reach. each brush of fingertips ignite a white-hot heat on your skin, as he bruises and bites and pushes - you give back as good as you get, full up with feelings of desire, need, want.

this place is too exposed, this air too cold. you drag yourself away with great difficulty, quentin lets out a sound akin to a snarl at the loss of contact. for a moment words desert you, as you notice quentin’s expression. hungry. dark. desperate. blue eyes now almost wholly black, lips swollen, bruised, and parted slightly. you shake yourself out of the daze he keeps drawing you into, meeting his gaze with determination.

‘’ come back to my hotel room. ‘’

that smirk again - so sharp, so deadly. so attractive. his hands find yours as you hurry off into the night.

—

tag list: @loki-doki-fever @djjffkd @kellzogg @bucky4cap45 @tuliptx @evee550

#personall~#quentin beck x reader #quentin beck x you #mysterio x reader #mysterio x you #quentin beck imagine #mysterio imagine #qb:pbmt #marvel #mcu #marvel studios #spiderman #peter parker #nick fury

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andipxndy-writes · 5 years

Text

From You - Rick & Laura

[[Honestly, I love writing for this family too much. Anyway, I have another thing! Basically these two (Rick belongs, as usualy, to @a-simple-rper) have the most hilarious kids and I love them a lot, and they both fail to claim responsibility for who gets what from where.

So I decided to write a thing about it oops.

Anyways, here’s the thing! Enjoy!]]

From You

When children inherited from their parents, it wasn’t just genetics that they got. Or, at least, that’s what Allie said. She said that personality traits could be inherited too – things that they didn’t necessarily see their parents do, but did anyway in almost the exact same way as their parents did. Like seeing a miniature version of them going around.

Laura didn’t believe it at first. After all, in what way could a kid inherit personality from their parents?

However, it seemed as if Rick was a lot more eager to believe science than she was. Or he was wanting to shift the blame.

Standing in front of their two year old, who was refusing to have a bath on the grounds that they didn’t have her favourite “bubbles” (she’d completely forgotten to buy that yesterday when she’d gone grocery shopping), Laura ran her hands over her face. This was not the day to argue with her – not when she had to prepare a new menu because the seasons were changing (Christmas was coming, and the patrons wanted something more seasonal to eat, obviously).

“Claire, you need to have a bath.”

“No!”

“It’s bath time.”

“No! I wan’ bubbles!”

Laura pinched the bridge of her nose as she sighed (a habit she’d obviously picked up from her husband) before glaring down slightly at the toddler.

“She gets that from you, you know.”

Laura grit her teeth a little at her husband’s voice. Was this the time to be making quips? No. Was she going to humour him anyway? Apparently.

“Gets what?” She turned to see him wiping down the bar as he usually did, cleaning out the place on the Sunday evening when the building was closed to the public.

“The stubbornness.” Rick glanced up from his cleaning with the smallest of smirks on his face, which infuriated Laura. She did not need this right now.

“You focus on your cleaning you… ugh!” She couldn’t even say bad words around the kids. They were at their sponge stage. If she said anything, Claire would be saying it until the cows come home, and Rick would blame it on her.

The ass had her trapped.

Huffing, she forcibly picked Claire up, who promptly started screaming. “No! No!”

Laura glared at her. “No. If you want hot cocoa, you need to have a bath.”

That quietened her down quickly. Laura smirked as she headed up the stairs, taking Claire for her bath.

That food bribery working? It wasn’t from her side.

---

As they’d grown older, the triplets had displayed distinct differences in their personalities that helped to distinguish them, which helped a lot. Of course, Freddie was the only boy, but his more laid-back attitude and desire to eat more than anything meant that he was a lot easier to care for. Rachael was the most laid back of the babies, barely even making a sound and only ever crying when she absolutely needed something. Even as a toddler, she was more content reading picture books and playing with toys on her own than bothering her parents.

But Claire, oh Claire. Claire was the heart attack child.

From the moment she could walk, Claire was getting into places she shouldn’t, and screaming at people who got in her way. She was more well-behaved towards the patrons than her own parents (though that wasn’t saying much), and was always the first to grab someone’s attention. And she also liked to grab her father’s attention, though not in the best ways.

At one point she’d nearly run through the open cellar door and fallen down the stairs, if Rick hadn’t caught her in time.

She also wasn’t allowed to be set on the bar counter, because tipping over glasses filled with drink and pushing bottles off the counter and seeing how quickly Rick would react was one of her favourite games.

Her new favourite, though? Playing “catch” with daddy.

Where she was the one that had to be caught.

Wiping down the counter, Rick was half listening to a patron when he heard loud laughter from one particular area of the bar. Looking up to see what was going on, his heart rate increased when he realised Claire was dancing on one of the tables, giggling. Turning around mid-dance, she waved excitedly at Rick.

“Hi daddy!”

“Oh God,” Rick muttered, already moving around the bar counter to grab the little girl. She was supposed to be in bed. “Claire, honey, get down from there.”

Words he would later regret saying.

“Catch me!”

Rick couldn’t remember ever running as quickly as he did to catch Claire in that moment, pulling her out of the air before she could hit the floor. Her laughter only stressed him out more.

“God, Claire, don’t do that,” he scolded, his voice not rising in level a single bit but his eyes portraying his worry.

Claire didn’t read it though. “That was fun! I wanna go again, Daddy!”

“No.”

“Awww…”

Heading upstairs with his daughter and leaving Sam to man the bar, he could only imagine what Laura was going to say.

“Jumping off tables and laughing about it? She certainly doesn’t get that thrill-seeker attitude from me, Mr. Broke-Into-School.”

---

If Laura was being honest, Robbie was a completely unexpected child. After all, she and Rick already had three, and they didn’t expect to have another at all. When they did find out, however, they were more than glad that they were having a single child and not multiples. Pregnancy with the triplets had been stressful enough. They didn’t need to add anything like twins on top of that.

And honestly? Robbie was Laura’s baby. She would never admit it, but he was her little baby and she loved him dearly, no matter how big he got. It made sense, then, that he very much enjoyed cuddles and had a tendency to draw closer to one of his parents and snuggle up to them, silently demanding to be cuddled.

So Rick wasn’t surprised a single bit when, as he spoke with Jane one late night at the bar, Robbie toddled up to him and held up his arms to be picked up, which Rick obliged to. Settling him on his lap, Rick automatically moved his arms to hold Robbie in a comfortable position as the little boy closed his eyes.

Jane chuckled lightly. “Oh, I remember Laura doing that all the time when she was younger – too tired to do anything but expect cuddles.”

Rick showed the barest amount of surprise. “Laura used to do this?”

“All the time. She was such a cuddle bug.” The mother-in-law took a sip of her soda. “Or she just wanted attention and didn’t like strangers. Depended on how you saw it.”

Before Rick could say anything in response, Laura emerged from the kitchen, wiping off her hands on a dish rag.

“Kitchen is all done, and—what?” She frowned at Rick, before over at her mother. “What did you say?”

“I was just telling him how you used to love cuddling when you were younger, to get away from strangers and get a nap without the bed,” Jane replied simply, and Laura glared at Rick.

“Don’t say a word.”

Rick gave a small smirk.

“He gets it from you.”

---

One of the perks of visiting his parents in Arkansas was that Rick could just kick his kids out of the house for the day, and they’d have something to do that would exhaust them and made sure they actually went to bed that night. Sometimes it was fun to help the kids with the farming duties he used to have, but most of the time? He just preferred to take his wife walking in the fields, showing her his favourite spots and taking her on picnics away from the kids so that they could have time to themselves, and his parents could enjoy themselves by pampering their grandkids.

And the kids loved it. Whilst Robbie wasn’t quite old enough to be helping out with the proper farming, he certainly enjoyed pulling weeds out of the garden with the helpers. Freddie had made it his life’s mission to beat Rick’s records out in the fields, doing farm work, and Claire always went out with Grampy, straight into the tractor to work on the crops. And Rachael preferred to stay in the kitchen with Gramma and cook and clean the house, though occasionally she went out to see the animals with Grampy and Claire.

It happened to be one of those days when Rick and Laura returned, Laura laughing with her hair tied back from her face, both of them soaking wet. As soon as Judy spotted them, she began to fuss, shooing them to the back porch so that they didn’t drip all over her freshly cleaned floors.

“For goodness’ sake, Rickard! How many times have I told you not to go playing around that pond! You always end up in it more than around! And dragging poor Laura in!”

Reaching the back porch, the couple only laughed as Rick pulled off his shirt, throwing it over the porch railing to dry. Laura pulled off her own cardigan, doing the same, and began to wring her hair out. It was as they were drying off that Rachael approached the house with John, the little girl sat on a horse and holding the reigns with a huge smile on her face whilst Grampy John led the horse slowly.

“Daddy! Mommy! Look!”

The parents looked over at her and smiled. Rachael rarely had such a high level of excitement on her face, usually a lot more reserved with her nose in a book. Seeing her so excited was a rare occurrence to be treasured.

“I know what I want to be when I grow up! I’m gonna be a horse rider.” The excited look on her face made way for a look of seriousness. “So I want a horse for Christmas. Please.”

Both parents froze. Rachael never asked for anything, and they gave her things they knew she enjoyed all the time. But for her to be actually asking for something… and a horse no less…

“She gets that from you,” they both said, looking to each other at the same time, and Grampy cracked an amused smirk at that.

---

Watching the kids interact was generally entertaining for Rick. If they weren’t bickering or fighting, obviously. Which happened a whole lot more the moment Robbie learned how to talk, actually.

Who knew that Claire would near constantly clash heads with a kid five years younger than her?

“Let go! This is mine!”

“I wan’ it! Gimme!”

“No!”

He sighed as he watched the two fighting over one of Claire’s fighter jet toys. Grampy had got her that for Christmas. It would be a real shame if it—

“You broke it!”

He grit his teeth, preparing for the onslaught of crying and bickering that was bound to happen. The screaming and crying that came from Claire was expected.

However, he did not expect Robbie to actually come behind the bar, where he was organising stuff before they opened for business, with the broken toy in his hands. As Rick had thought, the toy had broken in half, the tail end completely separated from the pilot’s cabin. Not as bad as it could be, but still rendering the plane unable to fly (if it was a real plane, that was).

The little boy stared at him for a few moments, before thrusting the broken toy towards him. “Fis’it.”

Rick blinked for a few moments, not quite sure of what the little boy was saying.

Then Robbie narrowed his eyes in a way that he’d only ever seen on two others before.

“Fis’it!”

The father sighed as he took the pieces of the toy, before standing and heading into the kitchen, where Laura was doing an ingredients inventory. She looked up when Rick entered, Robbie hot on his heels, and her eyebrows rose.

“What’s up?”

Rick held up the broken pieces of the toy. “I have to fix it.”

She smirked. Sometimes she swore Claire had him wrapped around her little finger, even if it wasn’t in the most conventional of ways. “Claire?”

“Nope.”

Okay, that answer surprised her.

At the surprise on her face, Rick gestured to Robbie before reaching into their DIY cupboard to grab the superglue. “He said I have to fix it.”

She snorted. “What, really?”

“Yeah.” Rick glanced over his shoulder at her. “He gets it from you, you know.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, really?”

“Fis’it?” Robbie was stood by Rick, staring up at him as he glued the toy plane back together.

“Yes,” Rick answered simply, smirking over at Laura.

She scoffed, turning back to her inventory counts. Just because Robbie knew what he wanted and asked for it, just like Claire had when she was his age, didn’t mean he got it from her… right?

---

Travelling to Arkansas for Thanksgiving had become somewhat of a tradition since the triplets were young. Their grandparents from the south absolutely loved having them around, and the kids themselves loved being able to help out with the farm work and around the house, with Rachael aiding more often than not in the kitchen whilst the other three worked out in the fields with the farm hands. And Judy always had a proud, warm smile on her face when Freddie and Claire (and when he was old enough, Robbie too) came in from a hard day of work, sweaty and rosy cheeked but happy. And straight into the bath, at Laura’s demand.

And every day, they kept a part of the tradition that Rick had as a kid, and that he and Laura neglected to keep because of their busy work lives.

A big family dinner.

Seated at the table, Freddie watched eagerly as Rachael and Claire helped their mother and grandmother to bring dinner from the kitchen and set it down at the dinner table. Roasted potatoes, corn on the cob, peas and carrots amongst other vegetables and freshly toasted corn bread were set on the table alongside a couple of roasted chickens. Honestly, the dinner looked huge – enough to seemingly feed more than the family of eight – but all four adults in that family knew that they’d be polishing off those plates in no time.

As soon as everyone sat down, Freddie’s fingers began twitching eagerly, just waiting for the moment when he would be allowed to start serving himself.

“Freddie, could you please say grace for us?”

Glancing up at Gramma Judy, Freddie hesitated before holding hands with his mother and Rachael, closing his eyes.

“God, we thank you for this food and we ask that you bless it and us. Amen.”

There was a chorus of “Amen”s from around the table, and then everyone let go of the hands they were holding and started serving food.

It didn’t take long for Freddie’s plate to be piled high with food, the boy already digging into his meal with gusto.

“Ugh, Gramma’s food is the best,” he managed to moan out through mouthfuls. “She always gets the ‘taters just right, and the corn is always the right kind of crunchy, and the corn bread…” He trailed off when he saw the look Laura was giving him, and he swallowed what was in his mouth before hurrying to backtrack. “Not that your cooking isn’t great too, mom! I-I mean, your stuffed chicken is the best!”

“You said you were excited about Gramma’s chicken just last week,” Claire countered, earning herself a glare from Freddie.

Judy chuckled, looking from Freddie to Rick, who sat at the other end of the table. “That boy sounds more and more like you every time I see him,” she teased, making Rick sigh.

“Ma…”

“So this one’s from you?” Laura asked, smirking at her husband. “Explains the portion sizes.”

The deadpan look Rick sent Laura got sniggers out of all four of the kids.

---

Of their four children, it was easy to see who was the quietest. Rachael always sat on her own, away from the others and, as a result, out of trouble. Which was absolutely wonderful in her parents’ eyes – it meant that they usually had one less child to tell off when something happened. She didn’t break anything. She didn’t insult anyone. She didn’t get into fights.

She was the child they occasionally dreamed the others copied.

Still, it wasn’t hard to realise that she had her moments. They weren’t often, but they tended to happen on bar nights when they all refused to go to sleep. More often than not, the refusal to sleep came from wanting to play with Sam and Jake and the other patrons.

This night? Claire had somehow convinced Sam to sneak herself, Freddie and Robbie some pop, and the trio were prancing around the bar, screaming and laughing and generally entertaining everyone with their hyper behaviour.

Rick could only sigh as he stood behind the bar, sending Sam a dark glare before pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation.

Only Rachael seemed to be calm, sitting at the bar and reading a book that she and Allie had bought at the bookstore a week or so ago. Some book about mythology in the modern world or something – Rick hadn’t been quite sure what exactly the book was about, and Rachael had been too eager to start reading it to fully explain everything.

If only all of the kids were like Rachael in the evenings. Just to give him enough of a break to focus on the patrons. That would be nice.

“You know, this wouldn’t have happened if you actually hid it.”

Rick looked up from where he was mixing a drink to see his daughter giving him an almost bland expression – almost, because he could see the mild irritation in her eyes. “Hid what?”

“The pop,” Rachael clarified. Her book was still open in front of her, but she was levelling Rick with a look so familiar that he was sure it didn’t come from Laura. “Claire knows where to get it.”

“Sam got it out.”

“Sam only opened the door. The one you locked.” Her focus turned back to her book, her eyes scanning the pages as she read. “Hide the pop.”

Rick blinked at Rachael for a few moments, the few words of wisdom she’d given spinning through his head. Well… that piece of information was nice to know, he supposed. But why say it so bluntly?

As soon as he heard the kitchen door open, he knew what was coming.

“She gets it from you, you know.”

He shot the smirking Laura a look over his shoulder, before shaking his head and going back to dealing with the patrons. Yeah, so what if she got it from him? At least it was words of wisdom.

---

To say that Rick was surprised when Freddie told him he didn’t want to do any sort of sport was probably an understatement. In fact, he’d been so surprised that he’d gone and said something stupid about drama, which had promptly upset both Laura, his wife, and Freddie, his son. Still, in retrospect, he shouldn’t have been surprised that Freddie enjoyed acting so much. After all, Laura had been a sort of drama queen when she was in high school – he had to get it from somewhere, right?

Then again, Laura regularly pointed out how he seemed to be a bit of a brick wall when it came to his emotions, not letting on anything unless they were to the point of him needing to explode at someone or something unless the emotion was a positive one. He even brushed off how he was feeling in favour of making sure others were okay, and seeing his expression whenever someone approached him crying was the most amusing thing – in particular when he guided them towards Rachael (who seemed very unemotive on the outside but was much more comforting and gave much better advice than Freddie could even imagine) or Claire (whose solution to every issue was to either yell at it or throw things at it, neither of which was actually all that helpful if the issue was a person).

That was why, as they sat right in the middle of the audience (not at the front because of Rick’s height, but not at the back because Laura still wanted to video her baby in his first performance) Rick and Laura shared glances throughout the entire performance. Because whilst his acting was a lot better than most of his friends’, the blank look he could pull on stage was so much like Rick’s that it was impossible to say it wasn’t from his father.

They literally couldn’t decide.

“That blank look is definitely from you,” Laura whispered over at her husband, who was holding the camera towards the stage to video everything.

“And everything else is from you,” Rick murmured in response, earning himself an elbow in the side from Laura that made him chuckle lowly.

---

“Quit it, or I will throttle you!”

Rick could only sigh as he heard footsteps thundering down the stairs from the upstairs apartment, and he didn’t need to look up to know that it was Claire chasing Robbie down the stairs for doing something to irritate her… again. Those footsteps had become something of a norm when the bar was closed off to the public.

Rachael sighed as she flipped a page in her book, continuing with her reading. Rick honestly had no idea what she was reading this time, but he knew that it was some sort of sci-fi fantasy series that involved time travel or something like that. At least, that was what he’d managed to get out from her excited blabbering.

“Is the floor still wet?” she asked casually. Rick looked up from where he was cleaning the counter to check.

“Already dried.”

“Oh. Shame, really.”

Rick raised a single eyebrow at her, before focusing back on the counter cleaning.

The kitchen door opened, and Freddie burst out of the kitchen, laughing and covering his head.

“How many times have I told you and your father to stay out of my kitchen when I’m cooking!” Laura yelled, wielding the infamous spoon threateningly. “If you try to steal another handful of fries again, I’m smacking you with the spoon! And do not come to me if you get scalded by hot oil, you hear me, Frederick Williams?”

Catching Rick’s eye as she turned back to re-enter the kitchen, Laura glared at Rick. “He gets this from you, and you keep encouraging it. Discourage it now.”

Rick just sent her a small smirk. “I can’t help it if your food is good.”

“Discourage it.” She paused for a moment. “And tell those two to stop running all over the place!”

“Stressed?”

“They’re going to singlehandedly destroy your bar.”

“Who’s that from?”

Looking around the bar, Laura looked at all of her children. Claire and Robbie, chasing each other around the tables and in and out of the arcade room, laughing and yelling at each other; Rachael sat calmly at the bar, reading her book but ready to scold the others at a second’s notice if she needed to (and if she needed to, she would raise her voice and make sure they stopped and sat down); and Freddie with a handful of fries, popping them into his mouth as he headed down to the cellar (to grab a couple of cans of pop, as usual, and deplete the stock that Rick had counted just a day ago). The quatro of chaos, but the four individuals who would always hold a strong place in both parents’ hearts.

“Both of us,” Laura responded simply, a smile on her face. At his raised eyebrow, she elaborated, “If you really think that hyperactivity is from me, you’ve got another thing coming. I’ll take the stubbornness and short temper, but you better take that inability to sit still.” Spotting Freddie emerging from the cellar with a Dr. Pepper, she gestured over to him. “And that love for Dr. Pepper. Honestly, there are way better sodas.”

“There definitely are not.”

“Dr. Pepper sucks. Give me a Pepsi any day.”

“Don’t let Sam hear you say that.”

“I will scream it from the roof tops, spoon in hand.”

Rick cracked a grin at that. “I’m not dealing with the aftermath.”

“It’s okay.” She gestured to the four children in the room. “We have four minions to deal with it for us.”

At that, Rick had to let out a chuckle. In all honesty? She had a point.

#written for: asimplerper #muse development: laura banks #universe development: the simple life #writing: mine #ugh this family gives me life #writing: rp writings

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againmendes · 6 years

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i’ll be okay - part two

part one

part three

series masterlist

possible trigger warning / warning - this series is about a relationship between you and shawn that may be viewed as a ‘toxic relationship. if not comfortable with that, do not read.

warnings - swearing, angst?(not really)

word count - 1,584

it had been a few days since your whole talk with shawn, and your friendship was about as normal seeming as ever. they acted like best friends and you were pushing all the feelings aside.

from what you noticed, it seemed to be pretty easy for shawn to just forget about the whole conversation in general. you didn’t blame him for doing that, though. that was exactly what you wanted to do, though it didn’t seem like that would be happening any time soon. you tend to over think things and it was a major flaw of yours that tend to tear you down on the inside and lead to mental break downs. this was one of the things that you kept over thinking. why didn’t he want you? why didn’t he want to be with you anymore yet acted like he did?

the more you thought about it the more confusing it simply seemed to be. you didn’t understand what goes on in shawn’s mind, and probably never will. there were times when you debated on asking him if he did things to other girls, if he got in bed with them the way he does with you. but every time you think of saying it, you change your mind. probably for the better.

however, keeping your mouth shut over something like this only made the pain worse, and when the pain got worse the more you wanted to push it away, push away the source of pain. that wasn’t an option.

the feeling of shawn’s large hand wrapping around your wrist pulled you back into reality and out of your thoughts, your head turning to look at the boy. “y/n/n, what’s wrong?” he spoke softly, his eyes full of concern when they met yours.

“nothing. just... dazed off for a moment.”

“are you sure?” his free hand held your soft cheek in his hand, his palm pressing against the skin as his thumb stroked over your prominent cheek bone. you swore you could have melted right then and there. the feeling wasn’t new, but it still made your insides turn to jelly.

you nodded your head and gave him a smile while your head leaned into his hand. “yeah, i’m sure.”

a second later his lips were on yours in a brief, soft, and tender kiss. you barely had enough time to push your lips against his even more before he pulled away and tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“promise?” he held out his pinky.

“promise.” you hooked your small pinky around his and gave his a small squeeze, a smile forming onto your face.

it was moments like these that you lived for, ones where he was being cute and loving towards you. the sweet little kisses, the sweet things he’d murmur into your ear on rare occasions, or laying your head on his bare chest and listening to his heart beat after exploring each others bodies. she loved feeling close to him and she felt closest to him when her bare skin was pressed against his, when she could feel his breathing fall into sync with hers.

the way he acted around her caused her to think that maybe he did have feelings for her, but he just wanted to hide them. if that was the case, then it was okay, she understood, but it didn’t make her hurt any less.

“i love you,” he whispered in a sincere sounding voice, pecking your lips softly.

“mm,” you hummed, “i love you too.”

and this was why you were confused. he once explained what the difference between saying ‘love you’ and ‘i love you’ is to him, and he said that when you say ‘i love you,’ you mean it in a more romantic way, and it’s more special where as ‘love you’ is very casual like you’d say to a close friend or family member.

in the end, it all leads up to shawn just being a confusing ass boy.

you stepped back from him but took both his large hands in your hands while you pulled him towards your room. no words were spoken, but shawn knew exactly what you wanted. in laughter, the two of you laid in bed entangled in the fuzzy blankets you stored on your bed as he laid with you, just holding you in his arms and making you feel content and safe. making you feel wanted.

but nothing good lasts forever.

not even a half an hour later shawn’s phone goes off signalling he had a text. his strong arm unwrapped from around you and reached for his phone, his eyes dancing over the screen to read the text. his facial expression changed for a split second before he fully unwrapped himself from around you and got off of the bed, leaving you alone.

“wait, where are you going?” you questioned curiously.

“i - uh, i have to go do something real quick, kay? i’ll be right back i promise baby.” he scrambled to grab his shoes and hoodie from the floor.

he leaned over and kissed your forehead. “umm... okay.” you mumbled. but he was out he door before you knew it.

----

his ‘really quick’ task turned into you waiting for two hours in bed all curled up in a blanket as you occupied yourself by watching your favorite movie in hopes of that passing time by. your constant time checking only made it seem longer, though.

the front door to your apartment opened and closed a few brief moments later. right away, you knew it was shawn arriving from where ever he had been. you took the remote and clicked the television off, huffing as you pushed yourself up into a sitting position. seconds later, shawn walked into your room and shut the door behind him.

his cheeks were rose tinted and flushed, his lips bright rose red like they were swollen from sucking on something, kissing something, or like he had just woken up. the last one seemed unlikely. the first two, however, seemed like they could have happened even though you hoped not.

biting your lip, you pushed yourself back against the head board and looked at shawn. “i thought you were going to be back earlier.”

shawn ran a hand through his messy curls and sighed as he took a seat on the bed next to you. “I know, i’m sorry. i got a little side tracked.”

“by what?”

“it was nothing. i’m here now though, so lets cuddle.”

“but babe, i wanna know. what were you doing?”

his eyes changed like he was growing agitated from your questioning but you were curious and you wanted answers. “why does it matter?” he asked.

“I just wanna know,” you answered and looked down at your hands that were folded in your lap.

he paused and reached out for one of your hands. “i was nowhere important, okay? like i said, i’m sorry i’m late.”

he sounded like he was genuinely sorry that he arrived late, but to you, you didn’t believe it. your eyes searched his, brows furrowed in concentration. without speaking you reached for the hem of his shirt and lifted it up.

“y/n, what are y-”

littered all over his lower stomach were little hickeys. some light, some dark, some small some large. you didn’t leave those there, so someone else had. even though it shouldn’t hurt you, it did. you had a feeling that you weren’t the only one, but you didn’t think you would turn out to be right in the end. you wished you had been wrong. your heart stung but your face remained neutral as you dropped his shirt and looked at him.

“look, i can explain.”

“there’s nothing to explain shawn, it’s okay. you’re not mine, you can do whatever you want, sleep with whoever you want. that’s totally okay.” but it wasn’t. shawn knew it too.

“i just, i didn’t. . . i didn’t mean to hurt you. it just kind of happened.”

so this was what he meant by freedom. he didn’t want to commit to you because it would end whatever fun he was having with his other girl. you didn’t want to know who it was, and quite frankly, you just wanted to forget about it.

“hey, it’s okay. i’m not mad.it’s not like we are an item or something,”

shawn didn’t know why, but your words kind of stung him a bit,. he didn’t know what to expect, though. he told you he didn’t want a relationship, that he just wanted sex and a great friendship. right now he was making that perfectly clear to you.

“but it’s not. i know it’s not, y/n/n, i know its not.”

“but shawn, it is. it’s okay! i’m not mad, i’m perfectly fine. you did nothing wrong.” you spoke softly.

“are... are you sure?” he questioned, giving your hand a small kiss.

you nodded. “i’m positive.”

despite all of the pain you were feeling, you had to make sure you didn’t let shawn know you were hurting. he had a good heart and you knew he would never ever purposely hurt anyone, and if he does hurt them he is full of apologies and tends to feel like shit for a while. as his best friend, you didn’t want him to feel that way. so you’d soak all the pain up like a sponge, and wait until it’s time to wring you out.

a/n - not very happy with the ending but i hope you guys like it! please like and reblog !! and let me know if you want to be tagged

tags: @callmequeenbeee @ashwarren32 @sshawnmendess1 @rosybassist

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes fic

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vitanteactawrites · 7 years

Text

Sometimes two isn’t enough, part III

Fandom: Supernatural / AU

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel [mention]

Pairing: Dean x Reader x Sam

Word Count: 1188

Part: Three [part one, two]

Warnings: None!

Author’s note: I know I said I wouldn’t get anything out by today but ta-da! I will apologize because it’s mostly a filler chapter, but I promise next week we’re going to start getting some leads as to who the reader is! Enjoy x

The car smells of old leather, and the soft roar of the engine as Dean turns the keys has your eyes widening slightly. Fingers brush out against the smooth exterior of the body, eyes moving to soak up the fine chrome detailing. Had you not been so engrossed in taking in the car, you might have seen the softening of Dean’s eyes, or the slight look of sadness that had made it’s way into Sam’s as his lips drew into a frown. There’s undoubtedly a thought of what if that floats through two minds that vanishes the moment you look up at them and beam.

It doesn’t take long before you start off down the road, music blasting from the speakers. The windows are rolled down to let in the early summer breeze, and within the first hour, you find yourself humming along slightly off key. The occasional word that leaves your lips is more of a mumbled guess then actual lyrics, but the effort has the three of you busting out the occasional laugh.

Your hair floats around you whimsically as air drifts through both windows, and though both men ask if you want something to tie it up - a rubber band is offered hesitantly - you politely refuse and take to resting your head against your arms right behind Sam. You can see his eyes drifting toward the mirror on occasion, but every time you catch him looking, his eyes snap back toward the road, a subtle blush coloring his cheeks. The action causes a soft chuckle to pass your lips before you stop playing your game of cat and mouse and take to looking out at the passing scenery.

It had been determined that - at least for the time being - the best course of action to take would be to get as far away from Lucifer as physically possible. The brother’s have mentioned calling Cas once or twice. The way they state the name raises the question of exactly who Cas is - something Dean is all too willing to explain. Castiel is an angel who has been helping them, and if anyone can help figure out who - or what - you are, it’ll be him.

As you drive, they supply you with little facts - about themselves and about the world. Dean seems far more content with telling you about things important to the brothers; the bunker, Bobby, Castiel, his parents, his Baby - which you learn is the Impala - and hunting, while Sam wants to tell you everything. With your head against the door near him, he slouches in order to rest his own back against the seat, his gaze turning toward you as he regales you with whispered tales about the world. The stories mesmerize you and you find yourself glancing between each of the brothers as they speak. Like a sponge in water, you soak up all of the information you possibly can, occasionally stopping them long enough to interject an opinion or ask a question. And the way you do it awards lingering glances and eyes clouded with emotion. Your fingers dust along an arm before curling gently around the muscle and giving a gently squeeze - the movement just enough to allow them to finish their thought before their attention is dragged to whatever you have to say.

And you continue like that for a time - quietly rotating between listening to stories, to the radio or the quiet lull of a warm summer breeze as it passes through the windows. But it comes to a stop when you enter into what Dean deems to be a fifties style diner - the floors checkered black and white, booths bright red with a racer white stripe, and an old jukebox in the corner. There's an itch at the back of your brain - a question that is begging to be asked - but you push it away as a waitress seats you. She’s flirtatious - outwardly so - toward both men, and you can’t help but frown. The only thing that keeps you from considering incinerating her like you had the ropes just a day prior is the fact that both Winchesters hardly pay her any mind, and instead dive into their menus. Dean insists you try a burger.

The food was better than you could have readily described, but you find yourself more invested in watching the two brothers then you are with eating. There’s a question sitting on the tip of your tongue that you can’t seem to get rid of, but don’t dare ask in public. So instead you quietly eat and drink, not daring to speak until you’re back on the road again.

“How do you know he was telling the truth?”

Sam turns in the seat, the leather making a distinct sound you’re certain wouldn’t happen in any other car, and Dean’s eyes find yours momentarily in the rearview mirror before returning to the road. When they don’t push for clarification, you simply offer it.

“Lucifer. He’s the devil. How do you know I’m actually your soulmate and not just some… girl with no memory?”

Even as the words leave your mouth, your fingers move the the wrist of the opposite hand, unconsciously wringing over the bandaged portion where restraints had once laid. Once again you see unnamable emotion swimming in two sets of eyes. From your place, you can see Dean’s hands flex around the wheel - knuckles momentarily turning white before he releases a short huff of air to get himself to relax. Sam’s gaze drops, offering you little insight on his inner thoughts.

“You - when Lucifer brought you forward… you recognized us.” Dean muttered, his voice far more gruff and dark then the carefree attitude he’d had been earlier that day. “You looked ready to kill him when you came too… but once he brought your attention to us…”

Straightening in your seat from the slouched position, you forced yourself to swallow the lump that had been forming in your throat. “You looked like you were going to tear the world into pieces if that’s what it took to get him away from us,” Sam continued, “That isn’t something you can fake.”

Love like that can’t be faked. That is what Sam meant, and in that moment you realized why the question had seemed to physically hurt them. Because they meant something to you, and whether or not you’d wanted it, you’d forgotten everything about them before being forced into their care.

“We’ll be at the bunker by tomorrow afternoon. We’ll call Cas and he’ll help us figure this all out.” Dean grumbled, fingers flexing around the wheel once more. “We’ll get your memories back.”

You wanted to believe him. You really did - but while there had been things that tickled some hidden memories in the corners of your brain - not even the two men before you had managed to really ignite any recognition. So instead you offered a hesitant smile and turned your gaze out the window once more, hoping Dean was right.

#supernatural fanfiction #imagine supernatural #dean x reader #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader x sam #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fanfiction #sam x reader #sam winchester imagine #fanfiction

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