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#he's old. he's done his time. he may be stubborn and stupid but he's got less trauma in the modern au ok
wearywinchester · 1 year
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Hunter’s Holiday
Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: When Christmas doesn’t go to plan, Dean has a way of turning this around for the better.
Warnings: angst, language, arguing, fluff, kissing
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Christmas with the Winchesters was never something that was even remotely conventional, in fact, it was different every year. Sometimes you celebrated it at Bobby’s, Christmas tree and everything. Sure, it was an old tree that was housed in a dusty attic more often than not. The lights were dim but somehow Dean knows just the trick to brighten them up. May not have been glamorous but it was the closest to a family Christmas that any of you’d ever get.
Then there were the Christmas’ spent in dated motel rooms, decorated with tinsel bought for a dollar at the nearest convenience store on mini mart. Your Christmas tree was a Little Tree air freshener that smelled like pine, one that made Sam sneeze and Dean roll his eyes at said sneezing. Your gifts would be stuff you’d find at a Gas N’ Sip, whether it’s a six pack for Dean or a new map for Sam, or filling up Dean’s gas tank when he’s wandering around in search for anything resembling a decent pie.
Then there were the times when Christmas was something that slipped your mind at the last moment, too caught up with a hunt to realize what the date was. Sometimes you think it’s them putting it off, not wanting to do anything because they felt there was no point. You knew that to be true some years and you couldn’t blame them. They’d bypass the Christmas lights out for show in the town you were hunting in, pretend to be oh so annoyed of the Christmas music. But the night always ended with a meal at a local diner, always, and you never failed to overhear Dean order a hot chocolate. It’s just a coffee, he always says.
It wasn’t. The mini marshmallows he tried to push down and melt away begged to differ.
Then there was this kind of Christmas, one that had you on the verge of tears as you stared daggers into the older Winchester. It was partially your fault, yes, because it was you that ran after a werewolf that’d tried to make an escape. It most certainly did but your persistence rewarded you, as did the snow on the ground offering clear tracks for you to see.
But such persistence was your down fall, having gotten lost just as easily, something you realized when all was said and done.
It was this kind of holiday, one full of wandering around in the great big woods all by yourself, snow covering your tracks if you didn’t move fast enough to find them again. Winter weather wasn’t so glamorous when you were stuck in it for hours, any bit of exposed skin having been paying the price.
It was this kind of holiday, full of angry tears that held the utmost of fear beneath it all because you were lost. You can carry all the pride you wanted to, all of it, but no amount of stubbornness can surpass the feeling of fear as you stagger around the snow covered foliage without a damn clue of where you’re going, without a clue of where the green eyed hunter who was surely losing his mind was. It was full of trembling hands and frequent clouds from your rapid breathing. Too scared to call out his name but too scared not to take the chance.
It was this kind of holiday, of wishing things were different. Of wishing you were never a hunter that goes after these stupid monsters that have a silly little habit of ruining the world, blending in with people who don’t even know they exist until it’s too late. Of wishing you had a normal life so you could have a normal Christmas, not one filled with stress on where you were even going, not one filled with angry upset that left you to feel worse and worse with each passing minute. The only stress you should’ve been feeling was if dinner was going to be ready on time, or if everyone got what they wanted for Christmas.
And now, now it was full of two sets of huffs and puffs, most prominently from the hunter a step or two ahead of you. Followed by one to rival it from you every single time. He was angry, he was pissed, and so were you. It was damn cold outside, the layers of t shirt and flannel, and even flannel lined jacket proving to be not so impenetrable like you’d thought.
“Would you stop huffing? You’re driving me nuts,” you grumble, doing just that, huff.
“Me? Don’t even get me started, sweetheart,” he counters, pulling a narrowed stare from you.
He saw it, he turned around and saw it when you’d gone quiet. The action of you snatching your hand from his with all of the spite in the world even further giving him a reason to spin on his heel and look at you. The sudden stop had you walking smack into him, the action furthering your frustration as you stared up at him from your newfound proximity. The small incident was irritating, inconveniencing as you met his gaze.
“You’re wasting time, Winchester,” you say, lips pursing in annoyance. Your heart was pounding, both from the wintery hike and your anger.
He chuckles, humorless, head shaking at your words. He was near astonished, near at a loss for words himself as he heard yours fall from your lips. “You know, we wouldn’t even be in this situation if it weren’t for you.”
You scoff, brows knitting together impossibly more. “I have a job to do, and I did it, Dean. Don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same because you absolutely would.”
You barely had the time to finish your sentence before he retorted.
“No Y/n, you could’ve gotten yourself dead just to gank a damn werewolf that had his sight set on luring you out of there to make you one of the damn team. You were being an idiot,” he says, voice raising slightly.
Your jaw clenched, those angry tears resurfacing at his words, at that raise in his voice. You hated it, you hated that your most prominent response to anger were these stupid tears of yours. You hated the vulnerability, and you hated the appearance of anything other than strength. You hated it and to dwell on it only made them well up in your eyes even more. Only made you more upset.
“Then why come looking for me if I’m such a pain in the ass? I’m fine on my own,” you say, chewing on the inside of your cheek to try and will away that pressure behind your eyes.
He simply looks at you and laughs, that same chuckle from moments ago as he shakes his head. But he doesn’t say anything, he won’t, because it’ll only make tempers flare more than they already were. You very much were a pain, but he’d like to think you were his pain in the ass, something he’d gladly put up with even if he refused to admit it.
He came looking for you without a single beat of hesitation because losing you wasn’t an option, not even close, as scary as that may sound. To care for someone so deeply scared him more than any monster could. He came looking for you because that’s what he always does, and that’s what he’ll always do. He doesn’t care that it’s so stupidly cold out there in those woods, he doesn’t care that there was a point where he could barely feel his hands enough to pull the trigger on that werewolf in case it was still out there. He didn’t care how ridiculously inconveniencing this whole thing was, not when your life was on the line.
So he looks at you, at the way your jaw rattles in a way you can’t control because you’re colder than you’d ever admit. He watches as your breath puffs past your lips in little clouds with each angry exhale, warm against his skin as you look up at him. He can see that wobble in your lip, and every fleck of vulnerability that pooled in your eyes because there was no hiding anything from him. He knew you like the back of his hand whether you liked it or not, whether you realized it or not.
It was a staring contest to rival all others, but it was one he chose to lose as he turns away only slightly, shrugging his jacket off.
“I don’t need your coat, Dean—”
“Didn’t ask. And don’t try and tell me you’re not cold either,” he says, leaving your lips to remain parted, those very words having been stopped on the tip of your tongue.
That frown returned as he settled the coat on your shoulders, grabbing your wrist and guiding your arm through the sleeve that was much too long for your arm, doing the same on the other side because you’re much too stubborn to do it yourself. You’d simply let it fall off your shoulders and put it back on his if he let you have the chance. But he didn’t, and he won’t.
You couldn’t deny the immediate comfort that blanketed you, in a literal and figurative sense. The warmth in his coat was still very much there, lingering, as was the dulled scent of his cologne that you were convinced would permanently remain on his collar no matter how many times it’s washed. The flannel lining of the jacket was worse for wear, tattered and occasionally torn, but it made it all the more comfortable as it hung over your shoulders.
You pretended your cheeks weren’t burning as he fastened a couple of the buttons for good measure, that crease still between his brows and those dimples very much by the corners of his mouth in that look of disapproval.
“So you would rather freeze?” You ask, squinting up at him as the snow continues to flurry down.
“I’m good. You, on the other hand—”
“I’m perfectly fine, Dean. You don’t have to show off for my sake.”
“Y/n, I can hear your jaw rattling from a mile away,” he says, unamused and you clench it, immediately stopping the chattering you didn’t fully know was occurring. “Come up with a better lie next time.”
You bite your tongue, swallowing thickly as you exhale a heavy sigh through your nose. He could see right through you, whether you wanted him to or not, whether you knew it or not. In actuality, you were cold and you were miserable. The snow that’s oh so pretty to look at was accumulating and wetting your clothes, the cold temperatures making you nearly unbearably cold.
You couldn’t help the way your body trembled, not as you stood there, not as you walked. It was involuntary at this point because of the absurdity of this winter weather. The tip of your nose was the equivalent to an ice cube, your cheeks nearly the same, though the simple act of him buttoning is jacket on you had done you some favors.
That chatter in your jaw wasn’t lost on you now that he’d pointed it out, an argument you hated for being valid. But it was true, and he was right about it.
You were miserable, completely and utterly miserable. He could see it on your face. Sure, there was that angry look that was brewing just for him on that face he finds to be the prettiest he’ll ever see. Brows knit together and lips pursed, daggers shooting straight into wherever you’d been looking.
But he could see it.
Beneath that stubborn pride was a softer pout, beaming bright because you could never hide your emotions no matter how hard you tried to. There were those teary eyes accompanied by a sniff, something you’d be quick to pass off as the cold weather if he thought to ask what that was all about.
It was the way you made yourself small, gaze darting around you with the utmost of vulnerability within it until you caught yourself and hardened your stare. The way you shifted your weight back and forth on your feet the way you do when you’re nervous. The way you could stay still for very long at all.
It was the way you muttered to yourself how very merry this Christmas was, with every ounce of upset sarcasm he’s ever heard. It was pitiful and soft, and completely tugging at his heart and there was no two ways about it.
He didn’t ask you what you said, didn’t make a big deal out of it—it’d only make you feel worse. He didn’t do any of that, but instead offered you his hand, a gesture you were stubborn about just as he thought you’d be.
“I’m fine, Dean.”
“Wasn’t asking. Ain’t having you run off on me again,” he says, a certain lightness in his tone able to be heard this time. But he very much did mean it.
You stared up at him, near unrelenting and from the corner of your eye you see him wave his hand once, expectant for your palm to slip into his, raised brows to match the action. You give it a moment or two, eyes squinting slightly as you purse your lips. But after that brief but of time you give into your stubbornness, that stupid pride you had. You let yourself have that comfort you so desperately wanted to have.
You took his hand, hesitant of course, feeling the warm of his palm press against yours. It felt like instant relief, a certain feeling that was almost hard to put into words. You felt that anger begin to melt away, that frustration and stubborn upset that had itself so tightly wound around you. It unravel loop by loop, bit by bit until there was nothing left as his hand enveloped yours in that ever familiar fit.
That tension in his shoulders relaxed as he walked forward, that heavier than ever weight loosening up and lifting itself off your chest. The negativity, the hostility, the badder than bad mood that’d taunted the both of you began to dissipate unbeknownst to the other. It was absolutely obvious, just not to the two hunters involved.
It was damn near enchanting what a single action, what a single touch could do for the soul. It was baffling how one simple thing could take a horrible day, a horrible range of emotions, and send them clattering to pieces in favor of a little comfort, a little peace that was so desperately needed.
He walked along with you, walked until he found he didn’t get very far when the other half of the equation stopped following, offering some resistance before he realized you’d stopped walking.
He turns on his heels, brow raised in silent questioning as he looks at you. You’ve got the softest smile he’d ever seen, the most beautiful at that, those crinkles by your eyes enough to make his knees go weak because it was him you’d been looking at like that. You’ve got that pretty smile, but as if it couldn’t get any better, white flurries of snow had been steady falling over you, catching in your hair in the most graceful of ways.
“Thought you were rarin’ to go,” he said, teasing in his tone as he steps closer.
You stood there, drowning in his coat that was warmer than ever as you looked at him. His cheeks and nose were the softest shade of pink, the color blossoming from the cold and bringing all the more attention to his freckles that dot and speckle along his skin.
He stood there, looking at you as though you were about to say the most important thing he’ll ever hear in his entire life. He waited there, patient as ever as you gazed up at him, delicate snowflakes landing amongst his hair that wasn’t quite so spiky and Dean Winchester styled anymore after the inclement weather had done what it will do.
“Merry Christmas, De,” you say softly.
It very much was the most important thing he’d hear, at least for today, that small spark of jolly in your tone amidst everything else.
He chuckles then, not like the humorless laugh from earlier, a true chuckle, eyes darn near sparkling as he looks at you beaming up at him like he’s the greatest thing in the world. He doesn’t feel like he deserves even a shred of it, but he’s certain he’d do anything to keep that radiance there.
You watch as he digs around in the pocket of his jeans, watch as he squints one eye and scrunches his nose in search of whatever it is he’s looking for with a sense of vigor. You watch and wait, seeing his expression change to that smile he’s got that’s brighter than anything else. That one he’s got saved just for you.
Your gaze flickers upward to follow his hand, the most playful of eye rolls soon to come after it. Pinched between his fingertips was a tattered little branch of mistletoe, all ruffled and bent from his pocket. The softness of your laugh was soon to follow it, your gaze dropping just a little lower to meet his eyes.
“Would you look at that?” He starts, his smile widening. “Now if my memory serves me correctly, it’s only customary to kiss if you’re under—”
You don’t give him so much as the chance to finish his sentence as you lean on your toes, lips pressing to his. It’s a smidge cold, lips not as warm as they’d be if you weren’t outside in the cold weather. But it was soft and sweet, every bit Dean Winchester and more. You felt his soft laugh against your lips, could feel his arm drop as he tosses the mistletoe aside in favor of pulling you all the more close.
“Thought you weren’t one for traditions?” You say, brow raising as he stills one, two, three more kisses, each harder to part from than the last.
He hums softly, a smile on his lips that was soon to be kissed, once, and even twice.
“Well, to be fair,” he starts, tucking your hair behind your ear. You could tell he’s got words on the tip of his tongue, could see it in his smile before he kisses the tip of your nose, then down to your lips. “Christmas was yesterday.”
His words sound as a whisper, humor in his tone yet his statement was entirely true. You were shocked nonetheless, eyes widening as you pull back to look at him. A gasp follows it, then a light shove at his shoulder. His own laugh sounds as you speak his name in protest, his head tipping back in another laugh as you shove him once more.
But he’s quick to pull you close again, his laughter puffing out little clouds of his breath that just barely cloud your ability to see him in the close proximity as his nose brushes against yours. The badness from that day, even the cold weather seems to be forgotten in that moment, if even for a second or two. It’s forgotten as his lips brush against yours and curl up and in soft smile.
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”
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episodeoftv · 4 months
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Prelims, Vote 5 of 8
The top 4 finales will move on to be included in the main bracket
Propaganda is under the cut, may include spoilers
CSI: NY - 9.17 Today is Life
CSI was always copaganda and admittedly NY got cancelled midseason but jesus fucking christ. Weird semi-bottle episode of cops trapped inside their station because people are protesting the shooting of a Black man as the others desperately scrabble to prove he was armed as if that automatically makes it okay. No closure for any characters other than making previously sympathetic characters look like racist dicks.
Faking it - 3.10 Up in Flames
This series finale was so underwhelming that I didn't even realize it was the finale and not just another episode. Yes, the show was cancelled early but it didn't even read as a season finale...
Imposters - 2.10 See You Soon‚ Macaroon
Ok listen so no I wasn’t expecting much from this show like I knew what I was getting into. But oh my GOD the way you could FEEL how rushed this finale was. Early cancellation‚ I believe there was meant to be one more season. (Also personally did not enjoy it bc I did not find myself compelled by Ezra’s storylines this season but he is the main character so the last scene of the entire show was something I thought was SO stupid). Also broke up the found family. Unsurprising but I’m dying out here and they couldn’t have thrown me one line? The actual structure of the majority of the episode was pretty tight‚ like if it were a normal episode it would be fine. But then they had to go and try to wrap everything up before it was meant to be wrapped up and nothing has ever been less satisfying
Jane the Virgin - 4.17 Chapter Eighty-One
context: back in season 3 the protagonist jane was married to michael. he died in a heartbreaking and brilliantly done episode, and then the series jumped forwards 3 years in time. michael, his relationship with jane and his death was always treated with respect, even as jane slowly began to fall for her old flame and friend rafael. in the season 4 finale, it seemed like rafael was going to propose to jane, which was lovely. but then the very annoying drawn out villain told rafael ""something"" that made him withdraw and lash out at jane for reasons she and the audience didn't understand. they still had sex which was disturbing considering his anger and drunkenness, and then at the end of the episode it was revealed that the information he found out was that michael was alive. he'd been alive this whole time. the last moments of the episode are jane and michael seeing each other again. this made NO SENSE considering he died in a public place from an aortic dissection (a sudden blood pressure spike from a pre-existing injury) and they had a casket at his funeral - but apparently the villain has been keeping him alive all this time!! for some reason!!! this finale not only ruined the main romantic relationship between jane and rafael for pointless drama, it also spat upon the memory and fans of michael, and michael and jane's romantic relationship. not even to mention the ridiculous drama that another fan favourite petra was put through this episode. the entire thing was full of cheap shock value moments and cliffhangers to try and get audiences to watch for the final season.
My Next Life as a Villainess: All Routes Lead to Doom! - 2.12 My Graduation Ceremony Happened...
incest
True Blood - 7.10 Thank You
so much wrong (really) with this show (which i love) but that final fucking image just does me in! sookie, our protagonist, who's been battered back and forth between stubborn heroine and hapless waif for 7 seasons seems spends her final (on-screen) moments sitting at her table surrounded by loved ones - which would be heartwarming if tara (abused for 6 seasons and then fridged, thanks alan ball) wasn't missing, a woman wasn't sitting next to the groomer she married (they meet near the beginning of the show when she is 17 and he is almost 30, they start dating immediately), and sookie were sitting at the head of her own fucking table. it's nice that sookie gets what she wants - she's tough but pretty milquetoast (don't get mad at me! i love our twee fairy vixen!), and she really has wanted to just be cozy and settle down this whole time. it makes sense to close on her enjoying a semi-mortal evening with the people she has left. but to leave on her tropily pregnant (even if it's in character - if it were just the pregnancy it wouldn't irk me so) and centre her nameless, faceless husband in the final frames of 7 seasons that have been (for better and way worse) about nothing but sookie? despicable! it's the series finale i've hated the most, but in some ways it's almost perfect because it totally exemplifies the political identity crisis true blood has for 7 years. edge vs. wholesomeness, agency vs. damselhood, change vs. status quo. it's such a disappointing result of the struggle that not only sookie (a character so many fans hate for her simultaneous stubbornness, ditz, and naivete - and who i love btw!) but the writers struggled for (sorry) 7 seasons. it's like witnessing your dear, baby faced, precocious & clever kid relative exit an intense emo phase only to become corporate law student. it's the cold fear that can only be induced by a white teenager with a briefcase. it's the slump end to a potentially fruitful struggle. in this sense it feels inevitable...but does it HAVE to be?...at least bill died.
The Who Was? Show - 1.13 Julius Caesar & Bruce Lee
the show got cancelled before season 2 released EVEN THOUGH it was certainly meant to have a season 2 so i will never see my silly blorbos ever again, nor will we be able to see who ate those grapes. It has been 5 years and I am still not over it :'(
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alwaysnyc14 · 1 year
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Commander Joseph Lawrence - Some of his best quotes
“I’m not a big fan of flying or children”
“Well, you’re off the hook, or off the wall, I should say for now”
“June: I just need to know if my husband is safe” Commander Lawrence: “I don’t know. Does he use a seat belt? Does he watch his blood pressure? That’s the silent killer, you know”
“Speaking of the Waterfords, you really mucked up that house, didn’t you? Fred demoted. Serena defingered. Baby baby-napped. You left the place literally in ashes. Do you think they got what they deserved?”
“You have to let the rabble-rousers blow off a little steam or they’ll smash everything to bits”
“Does this really work on Fred? Not exactly an intellectual giant. Then again, neither are you”
“Oh that’s cute. Would your heart glow or something?”
“THOUGHTS?!”
“AND HELLO CANADA!”
Emily: “Praise be to you, and may God make me worthy.” Lawrence: “Super”
“He’s not a used Subaru”
“I wonder what the voltage is on those things”
“I guess he didn’t bring 52 children with him “
“Wow, you’ve gone soft in Toronto. Must be all that maple syrup.”
“Go in grace”
“We just want our brother home”
“Cheer up. Fred and Serena are toast and you just got away with murder. All in all, not a bad morning.”
“Oh, well he’s a toady with no taste.”
“Did you do something to your hair?”
“I guess he doesn’t like music.”
“I guess he’s got us over a barrel”
“Are you gonna sit in the bed with us too? Because that would definitely make things more interesting.”
“Your love f***s people up. You’re a fountain of heartache and trouble”
“You’re an unusual woman, and we don’t have the proper infrastructure for unusual women to live within our borders”
“These are pious men. They need a little kink”
“Oh, you’d love it. It’s elegant yet brutal”
“America is dying. It’s an idea that has outlived its usefulness”
“Can’t we all agree, gentlemen, that it’s embarrassing to be running a country in which people are constantly trying to escape?”
“You mean go to the Red Center, kind of Handmaid’s Hotel, where you’re the concierge?”
Commander Lawrence: “I got them to say yes.” Serena: “How?” Commander Lawrence: “By not being a woman.”
“I’m just one commander. Nick’s on the rise, but he’s still a puppy. There’s only so much we can do.”
“Oh, look at us all, getting along like friendly diplomats, trying to bury the hatchet.”
“Commander Lawrence: If I object will it make a difference?” Nick: “No, sir. At the border, the Eyes maintain tactical control.” Commander Lawrence: “Oh, he seems to have us over a barrel. Go in grace, Fred.”
“Fred, praise be. You’re home safe. The nation’s prayers have been answered.”
“Your love fucks people up. You’re a fountain of heartache and trouble.”
Commander Lawrence: “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Aunt Lydia: “I believe I can be of service to you.” Commander Lawrence: “Lucky me.”
“Gilead doesn’t care about children. Gilead cares about power. Faithfulness, old-time values, homemade bread, that’s the just means to the end. It’s a distraction. I thought you would have figured that out by now.”
“You’re going to single-handedly repopulate the planet”
“Motherhood’s always been an evolutionary puzzle to me.”
“We’d never leave a brother out in the cold”
“Well, she isn’t stupid, but she is stubborn, which I guess is a form of stupidity. Perhaps, it’s the most virulent form.”
“I always took you for more of the Jezebel’s man less of the quickie behind a desk before a funeral kind of guy”
“I have been grooming Nick, not sexually, but he is helping me.”
“And now I’m done talking about your breasts.”
“Do you have an irony deficiency?”
“Gilead’s gonna Gilead”
“I know you enjoy inflicting pain. I’m not judging, everybody needs a hobby.”
"Cake? Gentlemen"
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wordsbyparker · 1 year
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His Marcy. Her Sam. (short story)
(Inspired by @palilious 's 12/06/2022 sketch of Sam and Marcy from “Endgame: A Zombie Novelette”. And yes, I realize these are my own characters. Shush. 😉 I can't do art trades, but by golly I can do creative work trades!)
As he entered the cabin, Sam recognized the signs. Marcy was a little too focused, a bit too quiet. When he heard a deep sigh rush through her nostrils, he knew he had to do something.
"Sweetheart?" he said as he walked over to her.
"Hey, Baby," she responded with hardly a glance in his direction.
"What are you doing?" As if he didn't know. He'd seen this behavior all too often.
"Just looking over the patrol schedule for next week."
Ah. That was it. "How long have you been staring at that?"
Marcy sighed again, the air escaping from her mouth this time. "Alex isn't feeling well, and Claire is helping Edna while she recovers from her twisted ankle, so I may have to take over their shifts."
"What about Margaret? Or me?" Sam asked as he moved closer.
"No, I can't ask her to help. She's got enough on her plate right now."
He kissed her temple with a feather-light touch, ruffling wisps of her hair ever so slightly. She leaned towards him, just a bit.
"Do you mind taking the lead on being in charge this week? These extra shifts may wear me out."
If Marcy felt his arm rest across her shoulders, she didn't show it. "You don't have to do this alone. We can take a few extra shifts each. Maybe we can go out together on patrol, like old times."
She chuckled a little. "You mean before we started dating? Back when we were trying to impress each other and not say anything stupid?"
Sam gently turned Marcy around to face him. Eyes of blue crystal looked up at him, tired, concerned, but still holding the hint of a sparkle. She always tried to take on the burdens of the group, even though he was the co-leader now, and her partner. It was just her nature.
"I was already impressed by you, Marcy. Still am. As for saying something stupid, I don't think that will ever change. For either of us."
He gave her a crooked grin. The one she loved so much. The one that always made her smile. "I love you, you know."
Her smile widened. "I know. I love you too."
Sam pulled Marcy in close and kissed her, his lips soft and strong against hers. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and the other around her waist, supporting her as she let herself be held. She draped an arm over his shoulder, gently holding on to him.
In that moment, the world disappeared. It was just the two of them.
His Marcy. Her Sam.
Being with Sam was the one place Marcy could fall apart, where she could let her guard down and take off the armor for a while. This was where she let him be the stronger one, let him ground her.
And he knew it.
He gladly gave her that space. How many times had she done this for him, when the nightmares came? How many times had Marcy woken him up, reminding him that he was safe and that day was long past, held him tight as the tears poured from his eyes and he shivered?
They took turns being the strong one. And right now it was his turn.
Sam ended the kiss and Marcy looked up at him. "Is this a hint that I need a break?"
"More like a strongly-worded suggestion." They laughed, and Sam felt her start to relax a little more. Sometimes Marcy just needed a hard stop to make her refocus. And sometimes it took him breaking past that stubborn nature of hers however he could.
"Thank you, Sam." She sighed, and Sam noticed it was less frustrated than before. She hugged him tight.
"Come on, Sweetheart. The weather's nice today. Let's take a walk. That schedule will be here when we get back."
He kissed her again, a quick and tender gesture. "And so will I."
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empressofthesunwriter · 5 months
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Obaa-Chan VS Uselessness
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Sakura Haruno is and was a character who divided the Naruto Fandom. The most common argument against her was that she was useless. Now what one shall do if you are reborn as her? Our elderly MC for sure will do anything, do not be her!
Or:
An 85-year-old granny and Naruto Fan gets reborn into the Shinobi world as Sakura Haruno. Rejected canon and modeled herself after Mitsuri Kanroji from Demon Slayer.
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Chapter 2: The Bell Test
“These little brats!”, I cursed out Sasuke and Naruto.
Do you want to know why?
We are currently doing the Bell Test with Kakashi and…and this BRATS won’t listen to a word I say!
So I’m pretty much running around, keeping an eye out for Kakashi, to find my two stupid teammates and make them LISTEN!
I should have known, I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN! Both boys were stubborn, yet I hoped they would consider my words.
Yesterday, before we all got home, I told them they should eat something for breakfast because Kakashi-Sensei was trolling us.
As expected Sasuke didn’t listen, but not even Naruto?!
So I was the only one who had eaten this morning.
The Bell Test pretty much played out like in canon, even if I tried to tell these two idiots that we needed to work together.
But nooooooo!
They had to prove they were better than the other and ignored my wise words. 
Since, sadly, I was the weakest of us all.
This sucks!
Even more so this stupid rivalry that Naruto and Sasuke have going on.
Can we not just all hold hands and be friends?
I will turn back old in no time with these two. 
These three if we count Kakashi-Sensei too.
He tried to put me into a Genjutsu, however, I knew what he had planned, since he did it with the original Sakura in canon, so I could dispel it fast.
At least, thanks to the perfect Chakra control I inherited from Sakura I could do this.
In all the other things I lacked seriously.
Sakura's body wasn’t strong, fast, flexible and endurance was a joke.
How should I be like Mitsuri Kanroji with all these weaknesses?
For the Breathing Style of Love, which was much like Rhythmic Dancing, I needed them.
I seriously had to step up my game or would be really…useless in this world.
That’s when I finally found Sasuke.
Buried to his head into the earth, thanks to Kakashi-Sensei’s Headhunter-Jutsu.
I crossed my arm and gave him an annoyed look.
“Are you done doing all alone Sasuke? Kakashi-Sensei is way out of our league, we need to work together! And before you say he has only two bells, Kakashi-Sensei intends to drive us apart and look how it is working!”
He sends me an annoyed look too.
“Look Sakura I don’t know why you have acted so strange since yesterday, but I will not take any changes here! I need to become a Genin! You wouldn’t understand!”
“Uchiha Sasuke, you are Rookie of the Year use your goddamn brain!”, I counter. “Did you ever heard of a team with a Jonin and two Genin? No! Because it’s always a Jonin with THREE Genin. Kakashi-Sensei wants us to work together, even if it doesn’t seem so. A ninja has to see underneath the underneath!”
Unlucky as we are the bell sounds.
The test is over.
I made a facepalm while Sasuke mumbled something about wasting his time talking.
“Hey, Mister I-Can-Do-All-Of-This-Alone? You want me to get you out of the hole or not.”
He doesn’t give me a verbal answer, yet I take what I get.
After a bit of fumbling I get Sasuke out and we walk in silence to the three logs where Kakashi-Sensei and a bonded Naruto wait.
Our sensei starts his spiel about how we should quite been Ninja, which of course angers Naruto.
Before it can escalate I start talking: “Kakashi-Sensei, I know we all are green behind our ears, but…I tried to work with my teammates here. The boys may not have understood the meaning of the test but I’m sure I will get them to.”
“Huh, what meaning?”, wonders Naruto, while Sasuke huffs.
“Sakura I watched you. You didn’t fall for my genjutsu and tried to work with your teammates.”, compliments me Kakashi-Sensei. “While you Sasuke and Naruto failed to see the real reason for this test, out of you three Sakura has the best chance of becoming a ninja.”
I just deadpan at Naruto’s shocked what and Sasuke's anger.
“Sakura, if you would be so kind…?”
I know what Kakashi-Sensei wants.
“Teamwork. This whole test was about teamwork.”, I began.
I explain how unlike it was from the beginning that one Genin could take out a Jonin, how the two bells are there to make us go against each other, how if we three worked together, and made a plan we could have gotten the two bells.
“Really good Sakura, your genius is showing. Sakura here showed how a Ninja should always see underneath the underneath, not always things are as they seem, which Sasuke and Naruto failed spectacularly. Because you see Sakura as weak, you didn’t hear her out. Physical yes, she is weaker than you, but mentally I would say she is years beyond you. Being a Ninja is not all about being strong and doing cool Jutsu, if you can’t use your mind you have already lost on the battlefield.”
My teammates look at me and Kakashi thoughtfully, while our Sensei walks up to the Memorial of the Third Ninja World War.
I let it play out like in canon and finally, it’s time for lunch.
I don’t waste time and put food into Naruto's mouth.
“Sakura, what are you doing?”, asks Sasuke. “Didn’t you listen to what Kakashi-Sensei said?”
“It’s again a test. How should we work as a team if one of us is hungry? Naruto would be a weakness Kakashi-Sensei would exploit.”, I answer, showing food down Naruto's throat, which he happily takes.
“Sakura, you are so smart!”, praise me Naruto between bites.
“Yes, yes, but seriously guys…we need to be a team. I will make you a deal if I’m wrong after we get the balls, I will go back to the Academy.”
From Sasuke, I get a frown, while Naruto looks shocked.
“You really would do this? For me and the teme.”
I nod.
“You two… you must become Genin, I see it in your eyes that it is so important to you…I don’t mind repeating the year if I’m wrong. So please accept this.”
Naruto says my name in aww, hopefully, it doesn’t make him crush on me harder and Sasuke gives me a respectful nod.
Then he also feeds Naruto.
Suddenly in a dramatic dust cloud with twirling winds, Kakashi-Sensei appears before us.
He growls, making my teammates surely shit their pants, till he gives us an eye smile and tells us we passed.
Then he says the famous words I love so much: “In the world of Ninja, those who broke the rules are called scum. But those who don’t take care of their friends are even worse than scum.”
Sign, oh Obito who did you become a villain? You were such an awesome good guy.
Yes, I know why he goes bananas, but still, why did Obito need to be the bad guy, he was always one of my favs.
After Kakashi declares us a team and how we will start doing missions tomorrow, he and Sasuke leave us.
I get my kunai out, freeing Naruto from his robes.
He thanks me, while I wave it away.
“What do you say Naruto? To celebrate Ichiraku Ramen?”
“You got it Sakura! Let’s go!”
Together we run to the Ramen Shop.
Well, it could have gone better, though at least Team 7 began.
So there is only one thing left to do.
“Hey Naruto, after our earned lunch, wanna train together, I have a feeling it will only get more difficult from here.”
“Oh? Sure, Sakura. Maybe you can help me to better understand what behind, behind things.”
Like a big sister, I ruffle his blond hair.
“Then also a trip to the library and then we train.”
A groan escapes Naruto.
“Must we waste our time with stupid books?”
“These stupid books helped me to get this smart, also, don’t complain.”
“If you say so Sakura.”
“Also I need to learn the Kagebushin from you future Hokage that is an awesome Jutsu.”
Naruto chuckles proudly and I hit him friendly on the shoulder.
I have a plan for how to get me and Naruto stronger, Sasuke I will get next time, but for now we deserve to eat some yummy Ichiraku Ramen.
All in all a good day!
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witchthewriter · 1 year
Note
Heya! It's me again, may I request a level six male ship for Disney (except for Descendants) I'm going to resend my updated info in case it got piled down, thank you so much! ❣️
𝗦𝗘𝗫𝗨𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬/𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗡𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗦: Biromantic Pansexual and Genderfluid; He/They (though I'm biologically woman irl)
𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘: 21 years old, 5'1.5", Southeast Asian (Filipino). Chubby with messy shoulder length brunette hair, chocolate brown eyes, and a small beauty mark on my forehead. Feminine Tomboy or Soft Vintage (like Malia Tate's style from Teen Wolf) but loves to wear Korean makeup style
𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬: Libra-Scorpio cusp, Slytherin with patronous spirit of Hummingbird, INFJ, my enneagram is 4w5 and Neutral Good. I may have a slight introverted tendencies and awkward/anxious nature, I describe myself as fiery, swears like a sailor, confident, jokester, and, passionate. Religious, super talkative, sometimes hyper (because of excitement), giggly (I always laugh/snort for stupid reasons), nerdy, also sweet and nice though I can be aloof, intimidating, and scary when I get so angry. I tend to become really fiesty, stands boldly on what I believe (claiming myself as a realist though some of my views doesn't makes sense), unbothered to be myself, stubborn, young-at-heart, clumsy unfortunate and inattentive. Would don't give af towards the people that I hate, sarcasam and savagery is my main language. But on the other side, I overthink a lot and cry over small things many times which I sound like a drama queen, and a perfectionist that provokes even more, yet recognizes a soft spot for dumb jokes, cheesy pickup lines and prefer people with a good sense of humour who see myself as equal. Chill in academics, but very competitive that manages to the top even for my dreams---I'm very dedicated on what I want for my life, and I display modesty and gracefulness towards some people that deserves respect. One notable feature about her is her multi-potentiality due to being naturally gifted in artistic fields (this includes singing).
𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦/𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗦: Arts, choir, poetry, karaoke, literature, history, makeup, beauty pageants, fun/deep/dumb conversations, expanding my knowledge in Christianity, documentaries (about saints), reading interesting stuffs, talking about social issues, and creative writing, chilling both indoors and outdoors
𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦: Stereotyping, obligation (without a logical reason), getting excluded, being interrupted, invalidating my feelings, judgemental people, telenovelas, hypocrites, dirty bathrooms, blackout, lightning, firecrackers, toads, snakes, cockroaches, toxic masculinity, misogyny, fake woke individuals, colonial mentality, and absurdly girly things
𝗛𝗢𝗕𝗕𝗜𝗘𝗦: Drawing, singing, dancing when nobody's around (I'm very bad at it), sharing nerdy or opinionated thoughts, walking like a model (if I ever feel so confident), sleeping, listening to music (2000s, rock, kpop, and EDM), chatting or browsing on social media, watching videos on YouTube, making terrible jokes/puns, watching cartoons, writing, cooking, reading interesting things, and conceptualizing my artworks. I also used to study Italian language a bit
Want one? Here be the rules 🦋🌈 
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐲 
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𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏
𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑳𝒊 𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒏𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒍𝒍! He was my biggest crush growing up. I mean he's stoic, kind-hearted, and gets the job done. He's very much like Robb Stark, Arthur Pendragon and Gally. Tough on the outside, soft on the inside!
𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔
・You thought he hated you for the longest time. But it was just because on the outside he seems like such a cold person. But inside he was literally in love with you. 
・Is your rock. He can calm you even in the most chaotic of times. Even if there was a tornado, he would be level-headed and steady. 
・His pet names for you are ‘honey’, ‘darling,’ ‘my love.’ He knows it makes you blush. And he loves making you blush...
・Whenever he opens up to you, it makes you feel so special because you know he hasn’t told anyone about how he really feels
・Always ready to listen to your problems and help sort them out. He knows what to do when you aren’t dealing with things well emotionally, or if you’ve hurt yourself (yeah he knows first aid)
𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈
Take A Chance On Me by the Midnite String Quartet
𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔
・ Cheerful Optimist x Grumpy Asshole
・ Moral/Emotional Support
・You fell first but they fall harder
𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆
Coming of Age
𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 How well you know yourself, and how you articulate yourself. You have such a fantastic way of expressing how you feel, and Shang appreciates that. Because some people are so unaware of themselves and how they’re feeling inside. 
𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅 Would be Belle. I think she would admire your hopefulness, and how you see the world. You would both have such brilliant conversations, and I reckon you would have a book club going on without realising it! 
𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 A mixture of Ariel, Chip and Piglet. I think you’re very curious and have a child-like innocence about you. You speak your truth and don’t let others get you down. 
𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒕 There was tweeting at your window for hours and hours. You thought it was just another bird, but the noise never ceased. So when you opened your window you saw it there. The little sparrow waiting for you. Now he follows you everywhere you go. 
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Text
The Holidays (derogatory)
hi dont look at this too hard i promise im not projecting at all - also if you like christmas and thanksgiving and that shit and have a good time maybe skip over it, i dont want any ‘yOu DoNt LiKe ThE hOlIdAyS?!?’ on this
pairing: Geraskier
CW: modern au, jaskier is the baby gay who went off and started his own life and is stressed/depressed about the holiday season meaning shitty family members, geralt takes care of him, jask feels guilty?, jask isn’t out to his family, depression tw but not in a wholly wallowing/graphic way?
____________________________________
Jaskier had been functioning. Just functioning and he was rather proud of himself for that much, even if it did still feel like a failure. But he made it to work, pretended he was fine, and had been feeding himself, so when Geralt asked how he was doing he said he was fine. Because compared to previous holiday seasons he had a lot more to freak the fuck out about and he was still doing more than before so he reasoned he was actually fine. 
The fact that his studio apartment looked like a depression cave and he hadn’t cleaned the litter box in a little too long or taken out the trash kind of slipped his mind. The numbness blocked it out. 
So when Geralt showed up at his door with takeout after the third cancelled date it was with mute horror and an apologetic look that Jaskier let him in. Geralt simply set the food out on his dinky little kitchen table and instructed him to eat. When Jaskier just frowned at him, Geralt held him by the shoulders and kissed his forehead before guiding him to sit and opening the pressed aluminum container full of his favorite pasta. 
“You eat, I’ll get the kitchen.”
A strange mixture of relief and embarrassment settled in Jaskier’s gut as he picked at his pasta and watched Geralt clean his tiny kitchen. He’d really only been eating avocado toast and taquitos all month so it wasn’t like there was all that much to clean, but watching some of the evidence of his spiral disappear was nice, even if it really was just a tiny bit. When Geralt was done, he sat down next to Jaskier and ate his pasta, finishing well before Jaskier did, but he didn’t mention it. He kept up a light, pointless conversation about Roach, showing Jaskier a picture of the hole his new husky puppy had made and sat in at the dog park which made Jaskier giggle just a bit. It felt odd, giggling. To be honest, it felt a little hysterical, but it was a nice change from the way he’d been two seconds from crying all week. 
When Jaskier was finally done, Geralt cleaned that mess up too before he led Jaskier into the little nook he called a living room, even if it was really just a carefully positioned couch and coffee table in a weird corner of the apartment. 
Giving him a playful nudge, Geralt winked at him, “If there’s anything you don't want me to see, hide it now. We’re cleaning this up.” 
If he hadn’t felt like absolute garbage, Jaskier would have sputtered, but as it were he just raised his eyebrows in the closest he could get to playful, “And what do you think I might want to hide?” 
“Well,” Geralt started, grunting a little as he leaned down to collect a laundry basket laying on its side, “you were a little jumpy about your butt plug a couple months ago. Just giving you a heads up.” The slight teasing tone in his voice warmed Jaskier’s insides even if he rolled his eyes in response. 
It had been the most ridiculous fight Jaskier had ever had, yelling at Geralt for accidentally finding his little box of toys while he was looking for bandaids. In the end Geralt was laughing his ass off and Jaskier was so embarrassed he thought he’d melt into the floor. Geralt had to drink a glass of water to calm down before he could give Jaskier a hug and ask Were you scared I’d make fun of you? Having to admit to his hot new older boyfriend that he’d never had a boyfriend before and he only figured out he liked men a couple months prior to meeting said boyfriend and wasn’t entirely sure what to think let alone expect from new boyfriend wasn't Jaskier’s favorite conversation, but it did make a few things easier. 
He was mulling over the day as he picked things up and made a pile of laundry to do while Geralt vacuumed and bagged up the trash. It really didn’t take that long, his apartment wasn’t huge by any means, but the difference was incredible. 
Geralt practically made them a nest of blankets on Jaskier’s bed before tugging Jaskier down on top of him and enveloping him in those heavy comforting arms, “Better?”
“Much.” Jaskier sighed, snuggling deeper into Geralt’s chest, “I take it my ‘fine’ wasn’t really convincing?”
“No, and, y’know the holidays,” Geralt tacked an exhausted sigh on after ‘the holidays’ and kissed the top of Jaskier’s head, “Wanna talk about it?” His tone was so careful, so uncharacteristically gentle and quiet that it took Jaskier by surprise for a moment. 
“I… yeah…” Jaskier stumbled over his words as tears welled up in his eyes, “I just don’t know where to start…”
Running a soothing hand up and down Jaskier’s back, Geralt hummed, “Can you tell me what you feel?”
“Scared.” Jaskier surprised himself by putting a name to it so quickly, “Scared and tired.”
“What are you afraid of?” Geralt tucked the blankets tighter around them as he asked, making Jaskier feel that much more cocooned and safe.
“Uhm…” Jaskier did his best to take a deep breath but his breath hitched as he fought a sob, “g-going home? I don’t know how much… uhm... fuck.... I don’t know- how much of any of it I can take? My family isn’t exactly the Adams’,” Jaskier ended on an ugly watery laugh that felt almost as hollow as he was. 
Geralt just hummed in acknowledgement and continued stroking Jaskier’s back as he cried through his words.
“They- they don’t know and they’re assholes anyway and- and- and my mom’s going to make a scene because she does every year and her sisters are a shit show and I cant even get drunk for it because I have to work the next day and I can’t accidentally let it slip I fucking can’t. I can’t handle that on top of all the other family drama right now.”
Tilting his chin up to look at him, Geralt kissed the crease between his brows, “They don’t know about me, or that I’m a witcher?”
Guilt washed over Jaskier as he tried his best to suck in a usable breath. He’d made a point to show Geralt off to all his friends in the city. Geralt had been kept secret in so many relationships and Jaskier hated that, he hated it so much, because Geralt was fucking phenomenal in every way and he deserved the world. 
“No…” Jaskier held his breath as he looked into Geralt’s eyes. They swam a bit in the tears overflowing and blurring his vision, but he didn’t see any anger there, just concern, and that hurt worse. He was supposed to be a fixer, not be fixed.
“Jask, breath for me. Nice and slow- there you go. What don’t they know, love?”
Jaskier sniffed and gave up trying to control his voice, muffling the little wail into Geralt’s chest, “They don’t even know I’m bi!” He sobbed horribly, expecting Geralt to be angry, or at least a little annoyed that they’d been dating for almost six months and Jaskier hadn’t told his family. He prepared his body for Geralt to leave, for the only comfort he could find to be the giant mass of pillows and blankets on his bed. But Geralt only tightened his hold.
“Oh sweetheart I’m sorry,” Geralt mumbled into Jaskier’s hair. 
“You’re sorry? But I k-kept you secret?”
“Not with the people you trust.” Geralt squeezed him a little tighter still, just for a moment before leaning back to look at him, “I’m sorry your family never made you feel safe enough to share this part of yourself.” he whispered, wiping tears away from Jaskier’s cheeks away as he spoke. 
Jaskier only squeaked in response, devolving into more tears and shuddering breaths. Geralt held him and whispered soft soothing reassurances until Jaskier had emptied out absolutely everything. 
They didn’t move till the next morning, and even then, Geralt kept Jaskier close enough to pull into a hug at a moment's notice. The holiday season was awful, but at least Jaskier had someone who understood and insisted on holding his hand. 
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slasherhaven · 3 years
Note
✨Hi✨Can you write a headcanon for slashers' toxic treats in a relationship? (It may their insecurities, being too jealous/overprotective ect..) thank you so much and i love your blog 💖🦄
You mean other than the murder and sadism???? Sure! 😂 (Not all of these are ‘toxic traits’, some are just problems that you might have in the relationship. Not including the whole murder thing...)
The Slashers and their toxic traits:
Thomas Hewitt 
His insecurities. He beats himself up so much about everything and it occasionally gets in the way of your relationship. For the most part you are able to reassure him and he comes around, missing being with you. However, he can start to hide down on the basement and start avoiding you, causing a divide between you both. He’ll comes around or you will march down there and confront him, lovingly, and he’ll feel better for a while. It’s a slow process building Tommy’s self worth but you’re a huge help!
His family? I mean...we all know Hoyt isn’t exactly friendly. Once you’re a part of the family, he expects you to have some sort of part in their chores. He also has a habit of teasing you and Thomas, and not in a very playful way, normally worsening Thomas’ insecurities. Luda May isn’t completely innocent either, though. She does love you but is pretty tough in the early stages of your relationship, like she doesn’t trust you. Once you’re officially a member of the family, she eases up on you though. 
Michael Myers 
Can be very cold. This shouldn’t be surprising. He’s a very stoic, cold man who is mostly unaffectionate. It takes so long to start building physical affection with him that most people would just give up before they get there. Of course, it’s worth it for when he finally starts to open up to it, but it can be draining on you.
Likes to get his way. He’s stubborn and independent. The thought of having somebody rely on him or to rely on somebody else makes him very uncomfortable, he isn’t used to it at all. And yet, here you both are. So, he doesn’t ask before doing most things, he just kind of...does. He doesn’t understand why you explain that you would like for him to mention it in the future. An example of this is just leaving the house without telling you, leaving you looking for him before realising he left for the night. He’ll gradually come around to improving on it, starting small, but that means a whole lot coming from Michael.
Jason Voorhees 
His insecurities. Jason doesn’t pull away from you because of it but the more understanding and patient you are, the better it will be. It takes a long time for him to remove the mask and, naturally, that can cause some tension. He’s too worried about scaring you away while you’re worrying that he doesn’t trust you as much as he claims too. This is something that can be dealt with eventually. Once he’s removed the mask and you make him feel loved, this issue slowly fades away.
Isolation? It’s not really his fault. He lives out in a cabin in the middle of the woods near an old run down summer camp and now you live with him. He’s not purposely keeping you away from other people but it’s something that can’t be helped. Of course he’s not going to stop you from taking trips to visit family or friends even if he would miss you, it’s just now always very easy to do so.
Brahms Heelshire 
Selfish. Brahms has a major case of only child syndrome. He can’t accept ‘no’ as an answer, he demands everything he wants, he only really things about himself, mostly because that’s what he’s used too. Thank his parents. Deep down, he really is a sweetheart but you have to chisel away all that nastiness. It’s hard work and you play more of a caretaker role before a romantic partner.
Get’s extremely jealous. He hates the grocery boy’s guts with a vengeance, all because he flirted with you that one time. But he gets jealous over stupid things as well, just when he decides that you aren’t giving him enough attention, which he wants a lot of.
Uses guilt trips. This one you need to stop as soon as possible. It’s how he got his way with his parents, and now he will try to use it against you. As you try to reign in his selfishness, you have to for the same for his guilt trips.
Bo Sinclair
Can’t take responsibility. It takes so much to get him to sincerely apologise. He really needs to see that he’s done something wrong and has really upset you in order to actually apologise. Otherwise he’ll just brush it off and move on, refusing to admit that he did anything wrong.
Manipulative. It’s almost like being manipulative is Bo’s second nature. He does it all the time with people who come into the town but he doesn’t really mean to do it to you. But when he wants something or he’s irritated, he just slips up and it happens. Big fan of saying things like “you’re overreacting”.
Vincent Sinclair 
His insecurities. Vincent can become very withdrawn from you due to his own insecurities. It can really get in the way of your relationship. Of course you’re understanding and compassionate but it does start to wear you down, making you a little irritated. You never let on to those feelings though, always trying to comfort him. Vincent will come around eventually after some reassurance but it can be a tough time.
His relationship with Bo. This is probably a bigger problem than his insecurities. Bo has a lot of power over Vincent and you don’t like it at all, even if you have developed a fondness for the other twin as well. Most of the times it isn’t a problem but when Bo is in a bad mood, he mostly takes it out on Vincent. It can feel like Vincent puts Bo above you, even when Bo is being awful. You understand it, you really do. Bo is the toxic one, not Vincent. But that doesn’t always make things easier.
Lester Sinclair
His relationship with his brothers. Lester isn’t a very toxic person but any relationship with somebody who has a life like his could become a little toxic. You are incredibly important to him but...so are his brothers. It’s highly unlikely that he would leave Ambrose to live a more honest life, or at least try to. He’s more likely to do so than either of the twins but it’s still very unlikely to happen. Sometimes it can make you question his priorities, but he really really does love you more than anything.
Bubba Sawyer
His family. His family is extremely toxic, this shouldn’t be much of a shock. Bubba is probably the least toxic out of all of them, this man just wants to love somebody and be loved in return. By family, I mostly mean Drayton.
Isolation. Like with Jason, this isn’t really his fault but it’s something to consider. If you have family or friends, you likely won’t be able to see them much at all. You could still call and message but you live with the Sawyers now that Drayton doesn’t like the idea of you coming and going. This probably links back to the toxic family dynamics.
Billy Lenz
Jealous/possessive. He’s pretty much a shut in, he doesn’t like leaving the house even though he probably could. He doesn’t have a problem with you having friends but gets a little pouty if you go out with them for a long time, and when you get back home, he is extra clingy. He won’t stop you but you’re well aware that he would rather you just stay with him. He probably feels more lonely than anything.
Asa Emory (The Collector)
Manipulative. Asa knows what he wants and when he wants something, he will get it. He does genuinely try to not purposely manipulate you since he cares about you. However, manipulation usually comes so easily to him that he might not even realise he’s doing it.
His need for control. Asa likes being in control and he loves when you’re submissive to him. This means that he can find it a little difficult to give up some control in the relationship or around the house. It can be infuriating but can be adjusted slowly but it’s not going to be easy.
Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull) 
Overprotective/possessive. As soon as another man is talking to you, he will be right by your side, his intimidating figure usually being enough to scare them off. If he had it his way, he’d have you with him at all time, only for him to touch or even look at. However, he won’t resort to that unless it’s something you want...still, it’s obvious and it can become overbearing if nothing else.
Depending on your feelings towards his ‘job’, he can be gone for long periods of times. Unless you are completely okay with what he does and go on the ‘business’ trips with him, you are going to be left home alone for long periods of time. Of course, you might be completely okay with that and if that’s the case, there’s no problem. If you need him around some more...well, you might start to feel a little lonely. He always makes it up to you when he gets home though!
Otis Driftwood 
Very focused on himself. He’s just used to only thinking about himself, ever since he was a kid. Of course he does genuinely care about the family and about you (and he doesn’t express that to you better than he does the family) but he’s nowhere near perfect with it. He also has a tendency of pulling away from you when this gets bad. When he realises that it’s bothered you, he doesn’t really apologise either, but he’ll still offer you some comfort.
Anger issues. This man has a temper. He would never turn you but oh boy is it hard work. Most of the time it’s just ranting and shouting about whatever pissed him off. While it doesn’t turn physical or is ever directed at you, it can be a little draining.
Baby Firefly 
Doesn’t take much seriously. Baby tends to treat everything like a joke or just doesn’t realise how serious the situation is to you. It’s not an constant thing, if you’re upset, she’ll notice and take it seriously as she comforts you. But she still sometimes brushes off your concerns (as well as everyone else’s) because she’s practically bouncing with energy.
Yautja (Predator) 
He. Is. An. Alien. I wouldn’t really call this a toxic trait but it definitely causes some complications. The traditions of his race can be...startling. You find far too many skulls in your home when you start courting. You are also likely the thing to introduce him to monogamy, but he adapts to that very fast because you’re so precious to him.
Pretty possessive. He isn’t the jealous type, just very possessive. You are his mate, his little human, and he wants everyone (especially other Yautjas) to know that. At times it might become a little suffocating.
(Look...I’m bias here okay!)
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lebenspurpur · 3 years
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AN: Helloo, wrote this because I spent today suffering through my post-drunk-vandalism hangover. Guess it's deserved but still, it sucks. After eating chicken broth my dad made, unsalted if I may add, for an hour straight I am now ready to be creative. I really don't know what this is.
Have the link to my Larry playlist while we're at it:
Pairing: Larry Johnson x reader
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of alcohol
Wordcount: 1744 words
🤍🧷💀⛓🔪🏁🕷🤍🧷💀⛓🔪🏁🕷🤍🧷💀⛓🔪🏁🕷🤍🧷💀⛓
Larry looks really, really stupid right now. Stupid and sick.
His tall form slumped over in defeat, big blanket wrapped around him but not too tight, otherwise he'd feel too hot, too feverish, he still needs some air. There are tissues scattered across the couch as well. Fucking hell.
Usually, this would disgust you but it's Larry, you think you've seen worse.
Small sniffles come from where he's laying, whenever he clears his throat hoarse croaking leaves his mouth and he cringes every time he hears it. He can feel your judging gaze on his body, hear your arched eyebrow without even lifting his head.
His radio is blaring some kind of metal music, you don't recognize the band. Technically, the music is useless since the TV in front of Larry's bed is playing an old horror movie, bloody screams only adding to the grimy ambiance in the room.
"I-", you start but Larry lifts his hand before you can even consider continuing.
On any other occasion, you would've noticed the rings adorning his slender fingers, the metal accessories leaving a trail of dark smudge on his hands. Damn, did he have some nice hands.
Thankfully today wasn't a normal occasion. The metalhead in front of you had worse problems than you drooling over his fingers right now, one of them being the sickness he caught.
"Don't you dare say 'I told you so.'", he croaks out while he finally lifts his head, bloodshot eyes meeting yours. He looks immensely tired. You can sense his annoyance at this sickness, this hellish treatment he's in and can't seem to escape.
You take a deep breath in and drop your bag next to his opened front door.
"Alright. I won't."
You close the door quietly and deposit your jacket as well as boots next to it.
His mom always screams at Larry to finally get something for visitor's shoes and bags but he never does. Too busy, too lazy, he figures his visitors get it. Who even visits him, anyway?
The floor is, as usual, covered in stuff he hasn't cleaned yet. Unfinished drawings, sketchbooks, take-out cartons, empty booze bottles, you keep wondering how he manages to create that kind of mess in a timespan of not even two days.
You tiptoe over them, careful as to not to step into something. Earlier experiences have taught you to never mistake one of these seemingly empty cartons as really empty. Just last week you stepped into a fucking pizza the man in front of you didn't finish.
You sigh as you sit down next to him and Larry tiredly raises an eyebrow.
"Dude, I know you don't want to move but Jesus, we really need to get you to bed.", you then state, voice comforting yet firm. You use the moment to stare into his eyes, adore the brown, thick, deepness of them.
Larry groans loudly, voice breaking from how raw his throat is. His head falls back and he closes his eyes, a pained expression on his features.
"Don't wanna.", he grumbles quietly and you involuntarily crack a smile. Larry always managed to do that, even in the most unbelievable moments.
"I'll join you if you do."
One of his eyes slowly creaks open, observing your face to look for any kind of sarcasm or irony. As soon as he doesn't find any, the other eye opens as well and he leans forward again, blanket clutched tightly in his fists.
"Alright."
You grin at his quiet answer, hand reaching over to pull him with you. He obliges, warm, slightly clammy hand tightly grabbing yours. He follows you through the messy room, his blanket leaving a trail of destruction behind the two of you.
You kick open the door leading to his bedroom. Immediately, the familiar images of various album covers greet you. The air in his room is colder and less damp and you hear him take a deep breath.
Turning around, you mention for him to wait while you walk over, grabbing the blanket on his bed. You shake it a bit, readjust the sheets as well the pillow, all while Larry's eyes never leave your back.
"There you go, sweets.", you add as you finish, quickly turning around to see Larry standing the same way you've left him. Tired, slumped, and emotional. The need to hug him starts boiling inside of you but you try and hold yourself back. First, you have to make sure he gets into bed.
Larry slowly stumbles past you. During the last few baby steps, he drops the blanket around his shoulder, faceplanting right into the freshly made sheets. He's not even wearing a shirt and you huff at his stubbornness.
Larry's back looks strong like this, muscles contracting beneath his skin as he tries to get more comfortable. Your eyes glide over his spine, his wide shoulders, the small bumps where his ribs encase his organs. His olive skin is sweaty and long, brown hairs cling to it.
You cringe at that, knowing the feeling all too well.
Softly placing a hand on his back, you move closer, forehead scrunched together.
"Larry, darling."
He grunts into his pillow, a muffled questioning sound.
"I got a hair tie here. Mind lifting your head real quick?"
Larry obliges and lifts his head quickly, taking a deep breath while he does so.
Your fingers find his scalp and start collecting all the strands, securing them afterward with the tie around your wrist.
The man beneath you hums in appreciation as the cold air hits his neck, sweaty skin finally being able to breathe. You kiss the small space beneath his neck real quick, a short sign of comfort before you stand up again, hands leaving his skin.
Larry whines the second you do so, all while quickly turning around, sending you a pleading look.
"You said you'd stay.", the whiny tone only makes his voice sound more hoarse and you can't help the small grin from appearing on your features.
"In a second, sweetie. You need some water and medicine first, alright?"
He whines again but the thought of something fresh and cold going down his throat is enough to soften the pleading look in his eye. You blow him a kiss and then quickly walk into the kitchen, which is right across from the brunette's room.
It's surprisingly clean but what did you expect? Larry never uses his kitchen unless he has to. Which isn't all too often.
Grabbing a water bottle and placing it on the counter, you keep searching for the small broth packets you'd bought exactly for this kind of scenario. You find them in the fridge, the only thing in this room that Larry actually uses.
Chuckling you get some water cooking, all while pouring the powder into one of the giant cups Sal has gifted Larry a while ago. According to the masked man, everything tastes better if it's being eaten out of a cup and so, everyone has their own sets of cups, a premium gift from Sal Fisher.
Soon, everything's done and you maneuver your way back into Larry's room. Said man is awaiting you, eyes still opened as he watches you creep towards his bed, hands full with water, soup, and medicine.
First, you feed him the medicine. Normally he'd do this himself but you know that he'll just ignore the bitter juice unless you force it down his throat. Stubborn motherfucker.
Larry's sitting up now, back propped up against one of the many big pillows he has. You hand him the broth and he inhales it in less than two minutes, apparently, this is the first thing he's eaten today. Shaking your head at the thought, you tug a few strands of hair out of his face, smiling at your lover's appetite.
Finally, after gulping down half of the water bottle, the brunette leans back and smiles, for the first time this evening.
"Thank you.", he croaks out and you touch his arm as an appreciative gesture, "Does that mean you're allowed to join me now?"
You're about to nod as you notice the faint traces of eyeliner on his skin.
"Did you take off your makeup when you got home?", you ask, throwing a teasing smile his way.
Larry clears his throat, embarrassed that you caught him. A faint blush raises on his cheeks and you feel your heart swell at the sight.
"I might have forgotten about it.", he answers, gaze slowly meeting yours again, "But please, let's just do this later, dude. I am so fucking tired."
Huffing, you roll your eyes at his answer but you nod anyway. He'd be fine with the makeup for a few more hours. You just have to remember taking it off tomorrow.
"You're lucky I love you."
Larry grins at that, the usual wide, blinding grin, that makes your stomach tingle with fuzzy feelings inside of it. His fingers find your arm and he tenderly pulls you down to join him. Soon, your head is placed on his chest, and his arms cradle your shoulders, pulling you into his body.
You can hear his relaxed breathing as he finally settles down, nuzzling his face into your hair.
His skin is warm against your cheek and you smile into it. It doesn't matter how often you've done it, laying on his nude chest always makes you flustered.
Larry's fingers start to draw stuff on your back, the feeling more than a delight for you. Humming, you snuggle closer and the metalhead next to you smiles.
His eyes already start to close slowly, lack of sleep finally catching up to him. The quiet sound of the ongoing movie in his living room, as well as the metal music, make for a great background sound and you both listen intently.
You notice the way his heart beats, slow and steady, beneath the tanned skin. Unknowingly, you start to synchronize your breaths with his. In and out. In. And out.
Soon, your eyes close as well. Damn it, you don't want to fall asleep. Though, you suppose it doesn't matter as the man next to you pulls you closer, his breath warm against your ear. He wouldn't let you leave anyway.
The thought makes you feel giddy, excited, in love. Smiling widely, you try to press yourself closer into him, and soon, you too, fall asleep, enveloped by the arms of the boy you love most. Your favorite boy.
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Um im not sure how your request work so im just gonna request and you can tell me if i do something wrong 😳😂 um preference, avengers: how they fix an argument between the both of you?? Idk if you can preference that but...I tried!!! 😋
Avengers Preferences - Their apologies
Tony Stark:
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Tony apologizes through gifts. He's not always the best with words so he finds gift to be a safer option. This way you don't get madder when he says something stupid. Gifts may sound like Tony's bribing you for forgiveness, but that's not the case. The gifts he buys are all personal and meaningful. It might be something you said you wanted weeks ago in passing, thinking he didn't notice, or maybe a childhood candy you always talked about but couldn't find. These gifts are Tony's words. It's his way of telling you that he's always listening, cares, and is truly sorry.
Steve Rogers:
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Steve's apologies are very genuine and straightforward. He rarely upsets you, being a proper gentleman, but when he does he won't hesitate to apologize, immediately. There are usually no gifts involved just his sweet words. Steve apologizes, telling you just how stupid he was and reminds you how important you are to him. He is a true gentleman and his words aren't just for show, everything he says is genuine and from the heart.
Peter Parker:
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Peter's apologies often consist of nervous stuttering and jumbled words. You two are still kids, innocent and full of mistakes. When you're upset with Peter he often panics and thinks the worst. This results in him avoiding you for a few days, worried you're about to break his heart. Eventually, after some advice from Mr. Stark, he works up the courage to talk to you. This is when the stuttering starts. He'll apologize, frantically explaining why you're meant to be and how much he loves you. Peter might panic from time to time but he knows what's important, you, and he'll say whatever he has to to get you back.
Bucky Barnes:
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Bucky's not the best at apologies. His stubborn attitude and hard exterior don't always make him an apologetic, regretful man. So, when he's done something wrong he'll avoid it and sulk for a while. But eventually, Bucky realizes he's got a good thing with you and he refuses to ruin it because he's stubborn. He's old-fashioned. Bucky will show up at your door with flowers and chocolates, an apologetic smile on his lips. He still struggles with words and affection, but he's working on it for you. The apologies can be a bit choppy, seem forced, but he's trying his best. Bucky's not the kind of guy who apologizes so his apologies prove how much you mean to him.
Pietro Maximoff:
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Pietro's apologies, fittingly, are often very speedy. He hates apologies because if he has to apologize it means he's done something to upset you. Pietro also struggles to take most things seriously. Normally, he'll mumble a quick sorry for the smaller apologies and then quickly move on. If it's a bigger fight or you're more upset, he'll slow down his apology. He takes the time to take your feelings seriously. Pietro wants you to know he's being genuine in those moments and will take his time to prove it. He might rush some apologies but he's always willing to slow down so you know how much you mean to him.
Loki:
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Loki doesn't apologize in words, more so actions. As much as Loki loves to hear himself talk he's not so good when it comes to feelings. So, when you're upset he is a little more willing to cuddle. His kisses are softer and he's just sweeter in general. Some people might find this a week apology, but the God of Mischief isn't gentle with just anyone. Maybe one day Loki will learn to express his feelings with words, but for now, he does his best with actions, and that's good enough for you.
Thor:
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Thor doesn't always apologize. Not because he doesn't feel like he should, but because he doesn't always realize he upset you. Thor has a big heart but can sometimes be oblivious. If you want him to apologize you have to tell him you're upset. Once he's realized the issue he'll quickly apologize and try to cuddle you to death to make you feel better. Thor is the sweetest and he's always quick to make you feel better when you're upset.
Stephen Strange:
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Before Stephen's accident, he was terrible with apologies. In fact, he just didn't apologize. So, you were surprised after the accident when Stephen became much more apologetic and open. His apologies consist of a simple "I'm sorry". Stephen might be more open with feelings, but he's still an extremely realistic man. Why waste time sugar-coating when the problem can be solved more genuinely? On occasion, just to win some points, Stephen will transport you guys somewhere like Paris for the day. His apologies aren't always the most romantic but they're meaningful, just like Stephen.
Vision:
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Vision's apologies are just simple conversations where he explains what he did wrong and why he's sorry, and if vision doesn't know what he did wrong he'll ask. His innocence can be sweet or irritating depending on why you're upset. They're very logical and realistic. He doesn't like it when you are upset and, eventually, realized that apologies fix the problem faster. Vision doesn't get upset or angry, so if anyone's apologizing it's usually him. He just doesn't get upset about things. Apologies aren't very common in your house though because you don't fight too often. Vision understands how important apologies are so he never hesitates to apologize if you seem the least bit upset after an argument.
Wanda Maximoff:
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Wanda is quick to apologize. She's lost too many people to waste time being stubborn. Sometimes, she'll stop you mid-fight and apologize, wanting to let it go and enjoy her time with you. Time is a funny thing and how much is left is unknown. Wanda will even apologize for things that aren't her fault. She will take the blame and apologize for every tiny fight if it means you two can be happy again. Wanda just wants to enjoy her time with you, and she'll do anything to do just that.
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ijustwant2write · 3 years
Text
Fight or Flight-Anthony Bridgerton x Reader
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(GIF credit to @ladycolinbridgerton​)
Requested by anonymous: ‘Hiii,Love your writings! Could you do something Bridgerton, Anthony x reader where the reader tries to stop the duel and gets hurt? Angst/fluff?!’
Characters: Anthony Bridgerton x Reader, Daphne Bridgerton x Reader (sister-in-law), Collin Bridgerton x Reader (brother-in-law)
Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name
Warnings: Duel (guns, mention of death), injuries, angst, fluff
                                    *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Collin and I laughed as we both carried Violet through the foyer of the home, clearly someone had too much to drink. My mother-in-law continued to deny this through her giggling.
“Of course not, you are completely sober.” Collin joked as we made it to the stairs.
“And I’m sober enough to know when you’re being impertinent.” Violet said to her son, still holding my hand.“Good night dears.”
“Good night mother.”
“Good night.”
Collin and I shared a look as she went upstairs, failing to hold in our laughter. We both doubled over as we laughed, until we heard someone call us. Turning to our left, we saw Anthony and Benedict in the doorway.
“Come here.” Anthony hissed.
“Good God. Did someone die?” Collin whined.
“What? What’s happened?” I asked, suddenly panicking. 
“Collin, get here, now.” Anthony instructed, his younger brother complying. 
I followed.“Anthony, what’s wrong? Is someone hurt? Are you in trouble?” I didn’t mean for all the questions but I loved him too much for something to happen to him.
He shoved Collin inside, stepping out and shutting the door behind him.“It doesn’t concern you darling. Just go up to bed.”
“Wait,” I grabbed onto his arm before he could get away,“Anthony, please don’t shut me out.”
“This isn’t for women’s ears. Please, do as I say.”
Anthony kissed my forehead tenderly, before he quickly ripped his arm away, looking sympathetic as he did so. The door shut, and although I was tempted to burst in there, I knew this was something out of my league. Sighing, I reluctantly walked away, slipping off my heels before slowly making my way upstairs. 
As I prepared for bed, my mind was distant. I couldn’t stop wondering what their meeting was about. Anthony looked stressed (even more than usual), and the fact that the eldest brothers were together meant this business was serious. Once my maids were finished and gone, I sat up in bed, having left some candles lit. At first I thought reading might take my mind off things, but the romantic novel only made me think of my husband more. I was tired from the ball, feet throbbing from dancing, which made me believe I could fall asleep. I wasn’t able to fool myself, unfortunately stuck awake again. Groaning in frustration, I stood, making my way to the door. I hesitated, wondering if I should really go storming downstairs when Anthony told me otherwise. No, I had to check on my love.
Opening the door, I heard someone else do the same. Poking my head out, I looked down the hall, seeing Daphne also awake. She rushed towards me, grabbing my hand without a word and dragging me out of my room.
“Woah, Daphne, woah, slow down!” I exclaimed quietly, stopping her at the top of the stairs.“Why are you rushing downstairs? What’s wrong?”
“My brother is doing something terribly stupid, and I cannot stand by doing nothing.” She said, tugging on my arm as she continued her route.
That made my heart beat even greater, terrified for what my husband could be a part of. I kept up with her, still tightly holding her hand until we burst into the room the men had their meeting in. Collin was the only one in there, looking alarmed when he saw us.
“Where have they gone?” Daphne demanded to know.
Collin sighed.“Daph-”
“Tell me where this duel takes place.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Duel?! Anthony has gone to a duel?! With who?!” I exclaimed. 
“So that I may prevent it from happening.” Daphne continued.
“Hastings has done you a grave dishonour.”
“Can someone please explain what is happening?” I stood beside them, though neither took any notice.“What does the Duke of Hastings have to do with any of this?”
“Surely you wish to see him pay?”
“Not with his life.” Daphne snapped back.
“Anthony is dueling with Hastings?! What if they kill each other?”
“It will not come to that.” Collin finally addressed me.“The Duke will remember his honour once he finds himself on the deadly end of a pistol.”
“And if he does not?” Daphne said.
“They will both do the gentlemanly thing and fire their pistols wide. Now allow them to bring this ugly business to a conclusion themselves.”
Daphne groaned as I began pacing around the room.“Do you know how many times I’ve heard that said? Myself and (Y/N)? That we should leave the men to their business and to not concern ourselves with such weighty affairs? Whose affairs, right now, are my future, my family.”
“This isn’t going to end well, you know it Collin.” I stopped walking around, crossing my arms over my chest in frustration.
“(Y/N) is right. Anthony is too angry to fire wide and Simon is too stubborn to yield. You did not see them in that garden.”
“No, I did not, and neither did anyone else. You should be happy that no one saw anything.” Collin pointed out.
So something dishonourable happened in the gardens of the party. Something that has cause my husband to want to duel an old friend. Part of me felt slightly angered towards Daphne, she had been playing with fire around the Duke, it’s all Anthony went on about for the last few weeks.
“Only someone did see.” Daphne realised.
Collin and I stared at her wide eyed.
“Cressida Cowper. Collin, you must tell me where they’ve gone.”
“I’m coming with you.” I declared. 
“Neither of you are going, Anthony will have my head-”
“Collin.” I stood in front of him, putting on the angriest face I could.“My husband may be about to lose his life and I knew nothing about it. Believe me, he will be reprimanded for that, but if you do not tell us where these stupid men are right now, it will be me having your head, not Anthony!”
After pressuring Collin to reveal where the men were, we raced to the stables, both Daphne and I still in our nightgowns, with only a cloak to cover us from the wind whipping against us as we rode. Our poor horses were not expecting this early call, using what energy they had to gallop as fast as possible. My throat was dry, heart racing and mind drowning with thoughts about what could be happening right now. Had they even started? Were the shots fired? 
We rode out of the country and into large fields. It seemed that we would never reach them in time. I kept my eye out for any signs of people or horses, praying that my husband wouldn’t be bleeding out on the ground. Why hadn’t he told me? He hadn’t even said goodbye. All I got was a simple kiss on the forehead, nothing other than that. Even if he did survive, he would have to leave this place, but was he going to leave without me?
“There they are!” Daphne shouted to us, speeding her horse ahead.
“Daphne! Wait!” I yelled after her, but she was too far away.
There were multiple bodies up ahead, and it looked like the duel had only just started, they were taking their steps already. I urged my horse to go faster, screaming Anthony’s name, but he couldn’t hear me. The men turned, ready to aim and fire. Tears started falling down my cheeks, quickly drying from the wind hitting my face. I was getting so close, but it still wasn’t enough. Daphne had somehow made it to them, but as the gunshots echoed out, she was caught in the middle of it, her horse rearing up and throwing her off.
As she landed on the ground, my horse also got spooked, rearing up as hers did, though I managed to stay on. However, it went hurtling forwards, and I couldn’t regain any control. I screamed as I tried to grab the rein again, feeling my balance slip away. One minute I was managing to stay upright on the horse, the next I had fallen off to my left, with my foot still hooked onto the stirrup. My head hit the ground harshly, and I was dragged through the dirt and grass as my horse continued to gallop. I couldn’t make out where I was, or what was right or left. Suddenly, the horse started slowing down, the dragging finally stopping. As I figured out where I was, my head still spinning, I felt someone lift my leg out of the stirrup and slowly onto the floor. 
“(Y/N), (Y/N) can you hear me?” Anthony gently held my face in his hands, kneeling beside me.
“My head...” I moaned.
“It’s alright, my dear.” an older man appeared, and I only just realised he was also kneeling beside me.“You’ve hit your head quite hard, you’ll likely have bruises along your back, and your leg will ache. But it’s nothing rest won’t fix. If you have severe headaches, you should call upon me again to give you something for it. For now, I shall forget I ever saw any of this, just as we agreed.”
“Thank you doctor.” Anthony breathed out, helping me sit up as the doctor walked away. 
I clung onto his arm, using my other hand to pull his face closer to mine. I kissed him hard, relieved that he was still alive and unharmed. He seemed to be feeling the same way as me, until I pulled away and slapped him round the face. His mouth was open in shock.
“That’s for going to a duel without telling me.” 
“(Y/N), I...what?”
“I can’t believe you thought you could just go and get shot, or shoot someone and leave me behind! What would happen to me? I couldn’t bear it if you died, or left, either way, I am furious with you!”
“Darling, I had to do it. He dishonoured Daphne, therefore, dishonouring our name.” 
I tried to stand by myself, though felt dizzy, annoyed that I had to have Anthony to help me. He kept his arms around me, and although I loved the feeling, knowing he was safe, I had a hatred for him in that moment.
“But why wouldn’t you tell me?” I looked up at him, ignoring the throbbing in my head.
“We would have to leave society, make a life as...I don’t know what but we wouldn’t be allowed here anymore.”
“So? Do you really think I regard myself so highly that I would diminish my love for you to remain in society?”
“What?”
“Anthony, I would rather leave all of this behind, and be with you wherever you go in the world. That fact that you think I would prefer to live without you hurts me.”
“(Y/N), I didn’t mean-”
I slipped out of his hold, hopefully stable now.“I don’t want to speak of this right now. I’m finished with this topic of conversation.”
Anthony knew there was no point trying to reason with me in that moment. It was also no time to argue when there were more pressing matters at hand. He huffed, only walking away from me once Collin approached, letting me loop my arm through his for support. I watched as he glared at Simon, who was in a deep discussion with Daphne. 
“We must resume before someone should find us.” he said to Simon before taking a pistol from Benedict again.
“There will be no need to resume.” Daphne spoke up. We all looked at her, wondering how she was going to stop the duel.“The Duke and I are to be married.”
                                     *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
We had all ensured we were home before any of the staff could see us, slipping out of our dirty clothes and stuffing them under the bed. I had struggled, feeling nauseous as I rushed. But as I lay down in bed, my headache suddenly returning and my back aching, I heard the door lock. Anthony threw the key onto his desk in the room, hands on his hips as he paced. 
“Anthony.” I tried to stop him.“Anthony, please don’t do that.”
“I’m thinking (Y/N).” he mumbled.
“Then why don’t you think in your office? You’re making me dizzy. And nervous.”
“Do not speak to me like that. You do realise how this might tarnish our name?”
“They’re getting married, it will be fine Anthony.”
“It does not matter, he still dishonoured her, I saw it myself.”
“And you have not done that yourself in the past?”
That made him stop in his tracks. His head turned to me so quickly I though his neck would snap off.“They were not eligible ladies.”
“And that makes a difference? Anthony, I need to rest, please leave me.” I turned onto my side, pulling the covers higher so they almost covered my face.
He groaned, and I instantly regretted what I had said. His footsteps were loud as he made his way to the door, but I never heard it being unlocked. He sounded like he was now approaching the bed, and I found out I was right when the bed dipped in front of me me. I opened my eyes to see Anthony shuffling around, and I heard two light thumps on the floor from taking off his boots, before he lifted and covers; he shuffled in towards me, gently putting his arm under my pillow, moving as close as he could to me.
“You are right.” his voice was quieter now.“I, along with many men, have...done things in the past. Those women are, were meant for those things, but as soon as I saw you in the room, I knew I had to approach you. I remember that beautiful blue dress you were wearing, and how well you held yourself. But you were still so enticing, I found you to be so interesting, yet you only spoke with me for five minutes. You danced so elegantly, yet I still thought I could keep up with you.”
“If you are trying to make me swoon so I forget all about earlier, it isn’t working. You use the same story every time.” I said.
“Because it’s one of the best ones. I could retale about the time I saw you first promenading, the balls and social events we coincidentally went to, how I called upon your house-”
“Anthony, you may stop.” I tried not to giggle, but my smile was evident.“I am still angry at you for putting yourself in such an idiotic and dangerous situation. However, I deeply admire your love for your family, I know you would do anything for them. Just...if you ever do anything like that again, you are to inform me of your plans. I go wherever you go.”
“I promise. I was stupid to think I could do that to you. I just wanted to make sure you would still have a good life.”
“The only way I would have a good life is by being with you.”
Anthony smiled, tenderly kissing me.“You should rest darling. You’re hurt.”
“As long as you stay here with me.”
“I promise.”
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cyborg-franky · 2 years
Note
Woohooo another one 😍 For the AU prompts. May I request 'power swap' / 'roommate' for Ace / Zoro?
Thank you for doing this 💕
I am EXCITED to do this one because I am a sucker for a good power swap AU.
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- There had been a fight on one of the smaller islands the ship had docked at.
- Ace and you have been involved and a devil fruit user hit you with something.
- It hadn’t hurt so neither of you thought any more about it.
- Until Ace complained about being cold, he never got cold.
- The flame user sits on the bed shivering while you are burning up.
- You fan yourself and much to Ace’s delight take off a layer of clothing.
- “What’s going on?” you mumble, feeling your skin, warmer than you’d ever been.
- Ace has no idea either, shaking his head.
- You couldn’t take it anymore; you went to open a window struggling with the stupid thing which pissed you off more than it normally would have.
- Your temper flared.
- “Babe! Your ah… on fire..” Ace jumped up and stared at you as you stood there a large amount of flame covered you.
- The curtains caught in your flames and started to go up.
- “Fuck!” You tried to put it out, just causing more fire to spread up the fabric.
- You and Ace were now both freaking out as he ran to the bathroom and grabbed a bowl of water, throwing it over the curtains.
- “That fucker on the island, he must have swapped our powers, well, at least given you mine.” Ace sighed, still shivering.
- “We should go tell the others, tell Marco, the old bird knows things.” You mumble as you dig around in the closet and throw a sweater at Ace once you aren’t on fire.
- “Portgas, for once in your life. Cover up.” He sticks his tongue out at you, glowering at you but he does put the sweater on, too cold for being stubborn.
- You both head to Marco’s office, explaining to the phoenix what was going on.
- He thought you were both trying to play a prank on him.
- That was until you sat down at his desk and spontaneously combust, setting a good chunk of Marco’s paperwork on fire.
- “I see.” His expression was not a happy one, his usual half-lidded eyes narrowed in annoyance as you step away from the desk and his now charred work.
- “Thatch might still have seastone somewhere… because you need it. You’re a hazard yoi.” Marco said, exasperation in his voice.
- So, the outcome was pretty simple, Thatch slapped a seastone bracelet on you, Ace spent a lot of time whining that he was out of touch with his power, missed it and was cold.
- Everyone had to hear about his chilly nipples for an entire day.
- Marco being the only one with power similar, despite being pissed at you still. he was easy going but he could hold a grudge when he wanted to. Agreed to help nether the less.
- On a small island you guys practised.
- Ace trying to explain how to turn it ‘on’ and ‘off’ and Marco trying to explain how to control it.
- Two of them talking at once made you turn into a blaze of human emotions.
- “How the hell did you learn to control this with your short temper Ace?” you asked as you took breaths to clear your mind, letting the fire fade, watching your hand go from dancing flames to flesh and bone.
- “Practise and a lot of help from the others.” He admitted, rubbing his arms to try and keep warm, the heavy sweater not doing as much as he’d like.
- “It takes time, you are getting there though yoi.” Marco put a hand on your shoulder, offering you a smile.
- An entire day of training, exhausted, frustrated and just done you all returned to the ship.
- “I hate your power.”
- “I miss my power” Ace mumbled as he cuddled next to you in bed, pouting.
- You were woken halfway through the night to Ace yelling from the bathroom.
- “Did you get something caught again?” you called as you rubbed your eyes, got out of bed, and opened the door.
- Ace standing there with fire in his palms, the biggest grin on his face, he looked like he was about to cry from how happy he was.
- “This means I don’t have to wear a sweater anymore!”
- You laughed, rolling your eyes but grateful everything was restored once more.
TAG LIST: @undercoverweeeb @slut4animedilfs @acesmarigold @sanjithesimp @aces-sweetheart @sugxrslushy @kaizokuwritings
@iloveportgasdace @bepoprotectionsquad @ace-no-isha
@thatsprettycoolbro @my-muses-in-op @saisei-no-hano @fire-fist-ann @rivvd-art @santoru @mimi-ya @simp4ace @aifozu
@useless-potatho @iloveportgasdace @smoleeveewrites@strawhat-bast @gonuclear
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dreamkidddream · 3 years
Note
can i request and Akutagawa x reader first meeting in an alleyway for a mission, and Akutagawa really found an interest in her, but the reader is chuuyas sister, and Chuuya is really overprotective of her because... why not💀
you can decide whether it’s fluff or whatever i mean preferably fluff but whatever you want i’ll survive
This made me laugh out loud cause imagine Chuuya threatening Akutagawa to take care of you or else and he’s just standing there confused like 🧍 also I might have gone off track from the request so my bad 😞
CW: minor language cause it’s Chuuya and I was gonna out a spoiler warning for Akutagawa past/S2 but then I realized I didn’t name drop so we’re good 🤠
Chuuya’s not stupid.
He’s far from it really.
So he doesn’t understand why his damn sister and his subordinate think he is!
You think he doesn’t notice those longing glances Akutagawa gives you when he thinks you’re not looking? How his tone doesn’t necessarily match the harshness of his words? How he just practically became your shadow, going anywhere that you were? God, it makes him cringe when he sees how awkward he is when he tries to hold a conversation with you, sounding so stiff that he pities him. Then he remembers who he likes, and it gets his blood boiling all over again.
It’s the most obvious thing in the world that Akutagawa likes you, and even if he feels a headache coming on, he can’t help but feel a little bit sorry for him. He’s been acting as a mentor for him since his…original one left (and he still wants to beat his face in because of all the damage he’s done) but in a much better and healthier way. He’s treating Akutagawa as a real person, not just a weapon for the Port Mafia, and this included helping him in any way he could and actually bonding with him outside of their work. Neither one of them were blessed enough to have a normal upbringing, but Chuuya was going to try his hardest not to remind him of that whenever he needed him on stuff that seems simple. Like this whole situation- that he would have been more than happy to help if the crush wasn’t on his little sister!
Chuuya loves you, you’re the only family that he has, so you can’t really be mad at him for reacting this way. He dealt with you joining the Port Mafia, but to have somebody ogling at his sister on a daily basis? He’s cracking his favorite wine glass just thinking about it!
He knows that while Akutagawa “looked up” to his old mentor, didn’t mean that he was a carbon copy of the guy. He still has his own sense of morals, even if it was…twisted at times. He realizes that he’s smart and confident in his ability, but is dense as hell when it comes to anything social.
But he is cruel enough however to make him regret being born if he finds out that he did anything to you-
“Akutagawa.”
Which lead to him confronting said boy (who’s honestly confused) outside of this new cafe you’ve been dying to go to.
“I don’t know what your plan is with my sister, but it better not be any funny business! I see you trying to sneak around with her- what you think I don’t see that?! I’m not a dumbass like- GRRR just listen! If you do anything to (Y/N), I’ll swear I’ll make you regret it. I may like you, but don’t think for a second that I-“
“Won’t hesitate to crush you and blah blah blah- Are you done yet? You’re kinda spoiling our tea here.”
And then you came outside, holding onto your sweet treats waiting to be shared.
“I- shut the hell up! Who do you think you are talking to your older brother like that?!”
“Your younger sister who’s tired of you stalking us!”
“STALKING?! Excuse the hell out of me for being concerned!”
“Oh stop pouting. And just because you’re concerned doesn’t mean you have to send people to follow us every time we step out of the office.”
This was just a blow up waiting to happen, honestly. You don’t know why your brother thinks you’re just the most oblivious person on the planet, but he does. Actually oh wait- you do know why! Because he’s your dumbass older brother who thinks he knows everything and that you don’t. And you noticed how much hovering he’s been doing ever since you started hanging out with Akutagawa more.
You guys aren’t even dating!
Yet.
But that still doesn’t excuse his behavior. Sending people to follow you guys, popping up when you guys get even a millisecond alone, openly glaring at him so much that you don’t think he even realizes it anymore.
“Now can you leave us be? You’re causing a scene here and look! You’re upsetting Aku!”
“AKU?!” You even have a pet name for him now?! And poor Akutagawa is just…lost on what’s going on, along with the other bystanders.
“Anyway BYE big bro that’s ironically short, see you at home! Don’t try to kill anyone and quit being a weirdo!” You yelled, dragging Akutagawa away as quick as possible.
“Hey! Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you- HEY! THIS ISN’T OVER YOU TWO! I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE!”
“Yeah it’s like we live at the same place or something!”
“I WASN’T TALKING TO YOU-”
You two were already crossing another street when he just gave up. The nerve of you, ugh you act too much like him sometimes. You’re too headstrong and stubborn like him, but he really is just watching out for you.
But then he sees how relaxed Akutagawa is around you, how he’s letting you in slowly but surely, and he starts to think that…there’s a chance that he might be able to deal with this-
“Wait- SHORT?!”
Then he’s foaming at the mouth again.
Bonus:
“…Aku?”
It seemed that your little nickname caught Akutagawa off guard too.
“Like it? I know I’m just the best at-”
“Don’t call me such a ridiculous name in front of people ever again.”
“Hm…so only when it’s just us, got it.”
Even if it wasn’t verbal you could tell that he agreed, if trying to turn his face away from you was any indication.
He’s not the friendliest guy, and he can be cold, but he’s trying, and you can see this going somewhere.
You can tell he does too.
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myckicade · 2 years
Text
Prompt: Ok so we all know Coco is touch starved, and would be clingy af in a relationship. What about Coco x wife!reader, while she’s trying to do basic errands/chores and Coco is her shadow?
A/N: I’ve been waiting for this one. I really have. Hee hee. I just adore Coco. <3 . This piece sort of follows the story of the last two Coco x Reader pieces I have written, but it will stand-alone, just fine. And, I swear, these things just have a mind of their own. I can continue to apologize for length, and content, but, in the end... I let the story tell itself. ;) . <3 .
As a warning, I come from Vermont, where we have a plastic bag ban. Last I knew, California was the first state to have one. I don’t know how that would translate to Santo Padre, but… When I mention fabric bags, I mean reusables, and the ban is why. ^^;;;;.
Title: Worthwhile
Teaser: He’s a little rough, your Coco, foul-mouthed, and quick to anger. Untrusting, and bitchier than a woman, on his best day. But, once you have his love, you have it. All of it.
“Okay…” you murmur, slowly, eyes scanning over the paper in front of you. Fifteen items, nothing crazy. Shouldn’t take you more than an hour, tops, and that includes travel to and from the store. “I think I’ve got everything we need… And, specials included your beer, and those little frozen cream puffs.”
Beside you, Coco groans, deep and guttural. “Fuck, I love those things.”
You giggle, but keep reading. Your man is too damn cute. “Feminine products.”
“Do those count as special?” Coco genuinely sounds thoughtful, as he steps up behind you, where you are leaning over the counter top. He wraps his arms around your waist, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “Kinda’ a necessity, ain’t they?”
Tipping your head, you glance to your husband. Seriously. This man is a treasure. “Why don’t you run for political office?” you tease, pleased when Coco chuckles.
“Yeah, my record’ll look great, on the campaign trail.”
You shrug. “You can tackle pink tax, and tax evasion, at the same time.”
Coco grins, and steals a peck off your lips. “What else you got on there, muñeca?”
“Hmmm, let’s see…” You turn back to your list, tapping the pen against your lips, thoughtfully. Spying the next item on it, you try not to let out another giggle. He’s not going to like this one. “Letty asked if we could have that cauliflower pizza thing for dinner, tonight.”
As expected, this groan is decidedly not from food lust. “Fuckin’ vegetarians. When the hell is she gonna’ get over this shit?”
“It’s just a phase, Coco,” you remind him, for the… Well, honestly, you’ve lost track. It started shortly after the wedding, Letty’s change in diet, and you’re still not convinced the two aren’t related. You’re just not entirely sure how. But, two months in, and she’s still looking healthy, so you won’t send up any alarms. “It’s very popular at her high school, right now.”
Coco scoffs, disgusted. “When the hell’d she start copyin’ other people, anyway? My girl ain’t no follower.”
The words send a shot straight to your heart. He’s a little rough, your Coco, foul-mouthed, and quick to anger. Untrusting, and bitchier than a woman, on his best day. But, once you have his love, you have it. All of it. The love he has for Leticia is the greatest proof. They may carry on like cats and dogs, but when push comes to shove, there is nothing they won’t do for one another. My girl. It brings a warmth to your soul, and a smile to your lips.
You shake it off, enough to formulate a response. “She’s figuring out how to be her own woman. Trying new things.” You shrug, not wanting to make a big deal of it. You were Letty’s age, once, of course. And, a girl, to boot. Some things, Coco just won’t be able to understand. “It’s a process.” He hums, still disgruntled, but doesn’t push out another word. “You want anything else?” you ask, holding up your list. “I’ve gotta’ get going, before I run into the football widows.”
Before you can even take a step away, Coco tightens his arms around you. “You sure you gotta’ go, though?” he asks, leaning in to brush his lips against your neck. “With the house all to ourselves, like this?”
“If I don’t go,” you start, as Coco’s touches gain intent, becoming teasing kisses. Damn him. It feels nice, you won’t lie, but there are other things on your mind, right now. Priorities.
You’re just… having trouble remembering what they are.
Oh. Yeah. Shopping.
“If I don’t go, we won’t have anything for dinner.”
Another kiss, accompanied by a barely-there swipe of tongue. You shiver, and Coco moves his lips to your ear. “We can order in,” he whispers, breath so invitingly warm against your skin.
Oh, this asshole.
“And, what are we supposed to have for breakfast, tomorrow?” you try, again. “Half an Eggo, and a pack of Skittles?”
Coco cuddles you closer, again. “Ain’t you never heard about livin’ on love, baby?” Some of his smoothest work, that is. And, it’s almost convincing. Almost. You can imagine the afternoon ahead, if you give in. Your clothes will come off, and won’t be back on until the last second, before Letty walks back through the front door. By that time, you’ll be too tired to roll your ass off the bed, let alone go grocery shopping. And, you promised Letty you’d talk Coco into that cauliflower pizza.
“Great as that sounds,” you agree, preparing to capitalize on the truth. You ease yourself away from Coco’s stubborn hold, and give him one more smooch, just to soften the blow to come. “I don’t think Letty will appreciate the sentiment.”
A third groan. You must be going for a record. “C’mon, (y/n).” Oh, he’s whining. It’s so cute, it’s unreal. “We’ll find some place that delivers that rabbit food shit.”
Unfortunately for Coco, you’re already grabbing your bag. Lucky for you. You’re still two seconds from giving him what he wants. (He just doesn’t need to know so). “I’ll be back in a while.” God willing. “If you think of anything else, call my cell.” You rush out the front door, and don’t look back. If you see the look on your husband’s face, you know you’re as good as done.
*
Well, what the shit? Coco stares at the front door as it closes, you on the wrong fucking side of it. His arms are at his sides, palms turned toward the ceiling. That went so well. He kind of can’t believe you just walked away, like that. Left him alone, and wanting. In your big, empty house.
He probably should have volunteered to tag along, instead of just chasing you off.
Fuck.
Glancing around, Coco tries to find something to do. Something to clean, at the very least. But, that’s the trouble with having moved in with you, after the wedding, he supposes. Ain’t nothing to tidy up. Not that the three of you don’t have possessions. They’re all just in their proper places. Probably Leticia’s doing, in the end. He’d had a long talk with her, before the move, that she absolutely has to keep her shit where it belongs. Your house isn’t like their house. There aren’t burn marks in the carpet, or gouges in the coffee table. Dishes go in the damned dishwasher, not left to pile up on the counter, or in the sink. Beds get made. Laundry gets folded, and put away. No more wrinkled heaps in the clothes basket. So far, the kid’s been doing good. Real good.
Coco, though? He’s never felt so unnerved in his life.
It was different when he just visited. Spent a night or two, here or there. He’d almost felt at home, then, stupid as it sounds. At home, with the knowledge he wasn’t staying. But, now? Now, the reality has settled in, and he feels so-so… out of place. There’s so much he’s struggling to adjust to.
You have a purified water system installed under the sink, where Coco is used to buying bottled water.
You have a dining room, where Coco and Letty are used to eating on the couch.
You have an extended cable package, whatever the fuck that is.
You kind of have it all, here, certainly by comparison to what Coco is used to. The best of everything. Which really makes him wonder – not for the first time – what the hell you’re doing with a dirt-poor biker for a husband? You’ve had this conversation, on multiple occasions, and you’ve explained yourself, every time. But, this time… This time, you’re not around to give that speech. You’re not around to hold him, and kiss his face, and reassure him in a way that only you can. No, you’re at the grocery store, shopping for Coco, and his kid, which was apparently a better offer than staying home with him.
Oh, nope. Nope, he’s doing it, again. He can feel it. You love him, he reminds himself. You’ve got his ring on your finger, his last name, and – God-willing – his baby in your belly. By choice. All by choice.
Coco takes a deep breath, in. Lets it back out, slowly. Tries not to get sick, for all the nerves coming up to greet him. He wraps one arm around his own torso, free hand moving up to cover his mouth.
Fuck, he hopes you get back, soon.
*
You let out a deep sigh, as you park your car in the garage. Oh, it is so good to be home, at long-last. Talk about Old Home Week. You’d run into everyone, and his brother, at the grocery store. Shopping had taken nearly twice as long as you’d meant for it to, and you just know Coco must be losing his mind, by now. You hate to think about it, in such terms, but, sometimes… Well, sometimes, Coco reminds you of a new puppy. You can’t really leave him alone, without some kind of separation anxiety creeping up on him.
Ah, well. At least he isn’t ripping down the drapes, and shredding the couch cushions.
You blink. Well. That you know of.
Shaking your head, you climb out of the car, mentally preparing to unload armloads of bags. Maybe, if you really, really try, today will be the day you can finally get all twenty bags in, in one trip.
Right. And, shortly thereafter, you can have both forearms set, and casted. Be a real turn-on, in the bedroom.
You’ve managed to grab half a dozen bags, when the door to the mud room opens. “Hey, don’t grab too many!” Letty warns, as she comes hopping down the steps. “Let us help!”
Glancing up, you smile. For having had such a rough start, Letty can be a sweet girl. You know she gets that from her father. “Well, thank you,” you reply, resting a few, fabric handles onto her outstretched hands.
Letty grins, lowering her hands to her sides, before leaning in. “Did you talk him into it?” she whispers, conspiratorially.
You snicker, and whisper back, “He isn’t getting a choice. He’s outnumbered.”
“Yes!” Her hiss of victory is hardly subtle, catching Coco’s attention as he pokes his head out the door.
“You two plottin’ against me, again?”
“Yes,” you and Letty reply, in unison, leading you to erupt into a fit of giggles.
Coco is all grins. “’Course, you are.” He strides closer, he and Letty dancing around one another as she moves into the house. You lean into the car, and retrieve a few more bags. If Coco’s out here, he might as well assist. He’s peering into the car, once you stand back up, and lets out a low whistle. “Damn, (y/n)! You buy out the whole store, or what?”
“Hardly,” you reply, dryly. You hold up your hands, offering Coco the bags. “Here you go.”
“Oh, don’t mind if I do.” Thankfully, your hold on the bags is solid. Instead of grabbing the groceries, Coco’s hands are suddenly groping all over you. One hand is settled firmly at your ass, the other sliding into your hair, at the back of your head. He wastes no time diving in for a slow, deep kiss, and, damn, does his timing suck. He could have at least let you put the bags down, first. The contact makes you tingle, and has you regretting your decision not to stay home. Coco pulls back, after a few seconds, and hums. “Mm. Best delivery ever.”
You can’t help the small snort of amused laughter that leaves your throat. “Good try, Coco,” you praise, easing back far enough to offer him the bags, again. The look of disappointment on his face is just pitiful. “I’m not banging you in the garage.”
He has the grace to mock gasp. “I’d never!” It’s a crock, and you both know it. He looks too amused to be repentant, and you look too aware to be angry. You just raise your hands, slightly, in a third offer. Coco sighs. “All right. All right.” He takes the bags from your hands.
“Thank you.” You grab another load for yourself, rounding the open car door to follow Coco’s lead, into the house. One more trip for each of you, and you should have it covered. So much for only buying fifteen items.
Coco might be right about buying out the store.
*
Watching from the dining room, Coco has a good view of you and Letty unpacking the last of the groceries. Damn kid, she’d thrown him out, about ten minutes prior.
“Less groping, more helping, Coco,” Letty had warned him, after he’d tried to pin you against the sink.
It had been his last warning. Now, he’s been banished. Not the worst thing in the world, not really. Over the last few weeks, he’s really learned that there are some tasks he’s not so fond of. Pruning roses… Yeah, he’s pretty sure you’ll never let him do that, again. And, hey, nobody told him what to fill the bird feeder with. Unpacking groceries goes on that list, somewhere between line-drying laundry, and a streak-free mirror. He’s not sure why. Goodness knows, it makes him feel like a kid at Christmas, most times. Since being with you, though…
Since being with you, he feels like he’s taking advantage of something.
Yes, groceries are a strange place to let that feeling land, but he can’t help it. Coco’s been responsible for feeding himself since before he cares to remember. The only time anyone provided his meals was during deployment, and half that shit barely passed for edible. You, though… You keep the house stocked with more food than he’s seen anywhere, outside of a corner market. Letty always has options to take to school, and there’s a nutritious dinner on the table, almost every night. (Some nights, he actually does win the battle for delivery). If Coco goes on a run, you send him along with snacks for the road. And, yeah, he kinda’ likes that. He also likes the energy bars you picked out for him, last week. Something with cherries, and dark chocolate. He wonders, for a second, if you picked up any more. Come in handy during his mid-week trip outta’ town.
Coco blinks. Then, he does it again, just for good measure. That’s it. That’s what’s so fucking weird about this whole thing.
It’s you.
Okay, no, it’s not you, you. But, it’s you. It’s you, taking care of him. It’s you, seeing to his needs. Letty’s needs. It’s you, being his wife, his partner. It’s you, slotting into the place of role-model for his teenaged daughter. Welcoming them into your home. Not treating it like it’s your home. It’s you, being so fucking perfect for him, it’s taken his mind all this time to catch up with reality.
Coco doesn’t get perfect. Perfect doesn’t want him.
Except, now, it does.
Before he knows what he’s doing, Coco strides into the kitchen. He doesn’t wait for you to put the box of pasta in the cupboard. He just takes it from your hand, ignoring your confused look, as he tosses it onto the counter.
“Coco!” Letty admonishes, but it’s no use. He’s already lifting you off the floor, arms around your perfect backside. The kid gives a long-suffering sigh, he hears it, but pays it no mind.
Nothing – nothing – is going to keep him from holding you in his arms.
Your own arms go around Coco’s neck, and you smile down at him, surprise still lingering in your eyes. “Uhm… Hi, there.”
Coco grins. “Hey, muñeca.” Leaning up, he pecks you on the lips.
“Can I help you with something?” you ask, to which Coco shakes his head. Closes his eyes, as your fingers play in his hair.
“Nah. Got all I need.”
*
Pulling a package of mixed vegetables from the half-unpacked shopping bag, Letty rolls her eyes. You two… God, you’re gross. Coco always has his hands on you, no matter what you’re trying to do. It’s a wonder you don’t carry a damned fly swatter around. Actually, it’s a wonder you ever accomplish anything. He’s always smooching, and smiling, and snuggling at you. It’s disgusting. It’s pathetic.
It’s so damned cute, it’s sickening.
Really, Letty’s enjoying seeing Coco so happy. Like, genuinely happy. Not the false pride he carries around with his kutte. He’s more relaxed, nowadays. He drinks less, and he spends more time at home, both of which mean he’s not hanging around with those skanks at the clubhouse. He eats more, he’s healthier… Nothing to complain about, there.
And, hey, she has no complaints about you, either. You’re pretty cool, all-around. A woman who takes care of herself, and her family, and doesn’t bitch about either one. You’re not using Coco for money, or status, none of the shit she’s always been worried her father would fall into. There aren’t arguments, every night, not even between herself and Coco, as of late. No hostilities, nothing to avoid the house over. Just good dinners, and movies, and a new fish tank in her room. (Okay, so, you’d earned some major points with that birthday gift. She hadn’t actually expected to get one, when she’d mentioned it). For the first time, she understands what a peaceful, happy family feels like. It feels nice. It feels like home.
Glancing back to where Coco now has you perched on the counter top, stealing the most syrupy-sweet smooches… Letty can’t help but smile. Home is A-okay by her.
*
The sound of the air conditioner humming in the bedroom usually lulls you right to sleep. Tonight, it’s just providing you with white noise, a low background track to your thoughts. You don’t mind, not really. It gives you a few minutes to reflect on the day that’s just ended. To plan your day, tomorrow. To weave your fingers through Coco’s hair, and listen to him breathe. That, alone, makes it worthwhile.
Coco has been asleep against your shoulder for nearly an hour, now. Your arms are wrapped around him, comfortably, his own around your waist. You’d urged him up to bed, after he’d fallen asleep on the couch, his head in your lap. He’d snoozed from the middle of the movie, to the end of the nightly news report. Letty had tsked, and complained that no one had any business, whatsoever, in falling asleep during Zombieland. (How he’d stayed asleep was still a wonder to you, both, for how hard you’d been laughing at Tallahassee). With your fingers in his hair, Coco had been blissfully unaware for a couple of hours.
Glancing down, you take in the sight of your husband’s sleeping face. He looks so damn peaceful, the kind you’d outright murder to preserve for him. Coco’s still struggling with sleep, and relaxation, even though you’d hoped it would ease up, once your nuptials had passed. Most of it, you know will never go away. Anxiety doesn’t have a magic wand, or some perfect little on/off switch. And, all things considered, today wasn’t a terrible day. You’d been able to leave the house, with minimal panic on Coco’s part. Granted, it had taken extra time to get the groceries put away, and dinner made, but… You understand, as much as you are able to, that Coco needs the reassurances. It doesn’t cost you anything to carve a few moments from the day, every here and there, to give him what he needs.
Okay, so it did cost you that first batch of pancakes, this morning. They’d burned on the stove, and set off the smoke alarms, when he’d insisted on a dance through the living room. But, Coco loved the song you’d been playing on your Spotify, so there was really no denying him.
Oh, and… Yeah, you’d missed that phone call from the bank, the week before. Your husband had slipped up next to you, on the porch swing, and snuggled you to within an inch of your life. An easy fix, and you still got the business loan, but…
And, sure, you’ve been late to work, on numerous occasions. Coco has a habit of sneaking into your morning shower. And, after that… Well, hell, you own the company. It’s not like you have to explain to the boss that you’re late to your shift, on account of baby-dancing. (Fucking forums).
Point is, you’re more than happy to take care of Coco’s emotional needs. It may take you an extra hour to pay your bills. Daily tidying may have become every-other-day-if-you’re-lucky tidying. And, your ass may have gone numb, tonight, while he slept on your thigh. During which time, you could have loaded the dishwasher. Taken out the trash. Any number of tasks that have been neglected, in the name of Coco. They can wait.
Leaning in, you press a tender kiss to your husband’s forehead, before settling back in, and closing your eyes. Yes, chores can wait. Work can wait. The whole world can hold it, with both hands. So long as you’re around, Coco’s well-being will never have to take the back seat.
*
P.S. If Coco denies it, he’s full of it. He fucking loved that cauliflower pizza. Fucking vegetarians, indeed.
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userholland · 3 years
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all for her [3]
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pairing: dad!bartender!tom x female!reader
warnings: cursing, lots of angst
summary: a single-dad bartender, a supportive best friend and their continuous, unrequited love noticed by his optimistic daughter. is it possible to break a heart they never knew they had?
word count: 8.7k! 
a/n: another month has passed but! finally here’s part 3!!! sorry for the delay but i was caught in between this rut & midterms so it took a while for any big ideas to spark. but i’m so happy that so many of y’all have enjoyed this story. i want to say again that this is my favorite fic series i’ve ever written so thank you so so much for appreciating it! i may end with 5 parts, but i won’t leave y’all hanging!
— masterlist ☆彡
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
A week had passed since the gruesome bar fight and Tom was still left with a dark bruise surrounding his right eye along with another on the side of his chin and the start of his jaw. Luckily, there were no broken bones or dislocated limbs, but it was made known that he had a concussion after you forced him to go to the emergency room and get properly looked at by a doctor. As stubborn as he was, Tom tried listening to the careful instructions given for the follow-up appointments that would come, but everything went in one ear and out the other.
“We want to make sure each part of the brain that was impacted is still intact, so we want you to see this specialist and they’ll run a few cognitive tests to make sure everything is okay.” The doctor explained in simple terms as he scribbled the information on his prescription pad and ripped it off.
You nodded, taking the paper from him, “How much is all this?”
“It’s not too costly, but insurance should cover most of it.” He reassured, glancing at you before looking back at Tom’s chart, “I recommend a lot of rest and time away from work for at least two to three days.”
Tom quickly looked over, “I can’t take off work right now. I really can’t afford to do that right now.”
“Mr. Holland, we want to make sure that there’s no way you could injure yourself even more than now. You need to take a few rest days in order to relax and stay away from anything strenuous.”
“I’m a bartender, I think I can-”
“Tom... relax, please.” You retorted at him, your jaw slightly clenched.
Tom stared out the window with his side against the wall, feeling like he was miles away even though he was just across the room. You peered over at him a few times throughout the appointment, but you knew he didn’t want to be here. One of the strings of his black hoodie curled around his pointer finger, pulling on the coil before letting it spring back, repeating it a few times as the doctor continued informing to you.
He’d been fixated on the results of the DNA test. It was rooted in his mind from how many times he read over it, convincing himself it wasn’t true and it was a huge mistake. Doubt consumed his thoughts, wondering how he could have been so stupid to fall for the entire ruse even though Tom never regretted one moment of raising Summer. He loved her so much and would do anything to have her back, but finding out the truth made it harder for him to figure out if he should still be fighting for her.
Throughout the nights, he tossed and turned enough to wake you up, feeling his pull on the sheets. Sometimes you’d hold him from behind, curling your arms and locking them to make him feel safe. You pressed your cheek against his back, the eerily sound of his heartbeat against your ear as it quickly thudded. His thumb brushed over the top of your hand, remembering that you were still there, but when he closed his eyes, every thought crawled its way back in and cluttered his mind enough to make him want to burst into an angry fit.
After a few minutes, the doctor left you two to gather your things. Tom ran his hand over his hair as he started to walk to the door, but you blocked him from taking another step. With your arms crossed in front of your chest and your eyebrows furrowed, Tom knew that look was never good.
“Talk to me… C’mon, what’s going on? What’s on your mind?” You softly asked, still looking into his eyes.
Tom ran his hands down his face, a light groan leaving his lips from the frustration slowly building inside his entire body.
“I don’t want to talk about it now, Y/N. Please. I’m fucking embarrassed enough.” He huffed.
“Then when are you gonna talk about it?” You retorted, your eyebrows furrowed from concern, “You can’t keep the weight of the world on your shoulders forever.”
He shrugged, “I’m not Summer’s dad. That’s it! It was all fucking nothing. It doesn’t matter-”
“It’s always mattered, Tom!” You whisper-shouted, not wanting to make a scene with everyone passing by even though the door was closed, “What Maggie did to you was fucked up, but you raised that girl to be who she is now and that’s what matters.”
Tom gulped, his tired eyes beginning to water as he kept eye contact with you. His bottom lip quivered, but he quickly wiped his tears with his hoodie sleeve. The dryness in his throat hurt and even closing his bruised eye was painful to do, making him curse under his breath every time. He clenched his jaw tight as he rubbed the back of his neck, but you placed your hands on each side of his delicate face. 
It was hard to see him in this state where nothing mattered to him and there was a greyness that clouded over the great and wonderful person he truly was. It wasn’t the Tom you grew up with, not even close, so to see this side of him for the first time astonished you, and you weren’t sure what else it would take to see his old self other than getting Summer back.
He ran his hand over his soft curls, “Can we just go home?”
“Yeah, but remember we have a call with a lawyer tomorrow morning. He thinks you could get a good settlement deal since the guy who beat you up had prior arrests.” You reminded him, pecking his cheek then rubbing your thumb over the bruised skin under his eye.
Tom nodded, “You know we can’t afford this guy.”
“We’ll make it work.” You said, wrapping your arms around his waist with his around your neck.
He licked his lips, “Y/N, I’m not gonna make you pay for it.”
“Who said you were making me? I know you want her back as much as I do.” You sniffled, gently holding his face so he could look into your sincere eyes and saw the way they gleamed.
Neither of you wanted to surrender and it never crossed your minds to give up on Summer, but it was getting harder when you felt like Tom was a ticking time bomb and it could only take Maggie’s choice of words to pick at the one nerve no one else could reach to make him completely snap.
Your noses brushed together with your foreheads lightly pressed, both of you reminding yourselves that you had one another. Tom placed his hand on your cheek before leaning in, feeling how soft and light your lips were against his and tasting your minty chapstick. As your eyes tightly closed, you shared a slow kiss with your arms still loosely wrapped around his neck. It was a blissful kiss, one you hadn’t shared in a while, but it was comforting in moments like this where you were terrified of what was to come. 
When Tom pulled away, he planted a faint kiss on the center of your forehead, “I love you so much.”
“I love you so much more.” You mumbled as you looked into his beautiful, russet eyes, “C’mon. Let’s go home and put some ice on that eye again, maybe take a nap after.” You hinted.
He half-smiled, “That sounds nice.”
You quickly furrowed your eyebrows, pouted your bottom lip, “Hmm, and maybe take a shower, you look like hell.” You joked, raking your fingers through the front of his messy curls to the crown of his head.
Tom rolled his eyes and smirked, “You know you used to be nicer to me, like when we were kids.”
“Well that’s before I fell for you, I can’t get too soft… plus, I think it balances your ego.” You smiled, pressing your lips against his while the two of you giggled within another kiss.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
Later that afternoon, you and Tom were napping on the couch with the TV on low volume. The birds chirped by the window and traffic was below the terrace, the sudden honks echoing between the buildings. You were laying between Tom’s legs, the fluffy blanket over your whole body. With your arms loose around Tom’s torso, you slumbered with your head comfortably against his chest. Tom wanted to go some sleep, blinking his dry eyes every few seconds to keep himself awake, trying to distract himself with his phone.
Light snores left your lips, your face hiding in his neck as you unconsciously curled up more. Tom stretched his neck a bit, making sure you were okay before running his hand over your hair. If he could lose Summer, Tom worried that you could slip away just as easily. He never realized how protective he was, hoping it wouldn’t push you away from his own faults and insecurities; he didn’t want to be left alone.
Tom kissed the top of your hair, nuzzling his face against the top of your head. Throughout this, you were his rock, an anchor to hold him down when things got to be too much and he couldn’t believe how supportive you were with how confused he was. You held him when he cried and you listened to him when he needed to vent. It was things you’d done before, but you both felt emotionally closer like another wall had fallen and there was nothing you couldn’t tell each other.
He slowly raked his fingers through the crown of your head to the end of your back, over and over as you peacefully napped before his phone vibrated against the coffee table. You stirred in your sleep, turning your head away and loosely wrapping your arm under Tom’s neck. As his vision cleared from his sleepy daze, Tom furrowed his eyebrows at the contact name.
“Hey, baby, I have to take this,” Tom said in a low tone, not wanting to completely wake you up.
You nodded, your eyes still closed, but Tom slowly got on his feet. After he placed the blanket over you, Tom went out to his bedroom so you could have some quiet.
“Hey, dad.” He answered.
“Hey, Tommy.”
His father always had the same monotone voice, like a poker face that he had to figure out since he was born.
“What’s going on? Is Sheryl okay?” Tom replied, sitting down on the bed.
Ever since his dad got remarried a few years ago, Tom and his father’s relationship slowly parted over time. With work, school, and a kid, Tom didn’t have time to take the backhanded compliments and concerned parenting skills that his new stepmom persistently gave to him on any family occasion. They used to have dinners together every Saturday night when Tom could get away from the city and school, but each one got worse. The last straw was around this time last year, it was Thanksgiving dinner and the blowout was something Tom tried to forget every other week. He couldn’t even bring it all up to you which was hard to keep since it’s been biting at his nerves for the last year.
As Summer got older, Tom didn’t want her to think she was “some kind of mistake” as Sheryl would put it. So for the sake of her, he told himself that his family wasn’t going to cost his daughter’s happiness and he never returned a call back until now. She asked about her grandparents around birthdays or holidays throughout the year, but it was getting harder for Tom to avoid the question when she wouldn’t give up sometimes.
Even though Tom’s mom was usually out of the country, she made sure to send presents, pictures and call every other weekend to make sure he and Summer were okay, but Tom would never admit to her if something was wrong. His mom was never there, not for him growing up and rarely now, but he knew she was trying to make up for it holiday after holiday.
“Uh, she’s well. We’re fine. I just wanted to call you and ask what’s going on… How’s Summer?” His dad genuinely asked.
Tom chuckled, “Why do you ask?”
His father hesitated for a second with his answer, “I haven’t heard from you in a while. Your mom called me and said that she hadn’t heard from you either. So, we’re just worried about you…”
“Yeah… yeah.” Tom raised his eyebrows as he rolled his eyes.
He heard his father sigh, “I know things weren’t the best the last time I saw you-”
“Some woman I barely know tells me that I can’t raise my daughter? That she was a mistake? No, dad. I should be visiting even more after that.” Tom retorted, grinning to mask how the anger was building up inside him slowly but surely.
“She’s your stepmom.”
“Not to me.”
Tom’s dad didn’t fight back his bitter attitude, “Tom, I just want to talk to you. It’s just you and me.”
“Dad, I’m really… not in the mood.” 
“Let’s get lunch… or dinner, maybe? Just the two of us.” His dad suggested, almost pleading.
There was silence between the conversation as Tom thought for a few seconds. As damaged as his bond was with his dad, he didn’t want to push him away. It would be what Maggie was doing to him, and to feel the separation from a child hurt like hell.
Tom sniffled, “Fine, yeah. Sure.”
“Great. Well, what about dinner tonight? Where do you want to meet?”
“Um, we can meet at the bar I work at… before my shift starts. Six o’clock.” Tom trailed, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Okay, I’ll see you then.”
Tom quickly hung up before he could burst into tears. In the back of his mind, he thought there was an ultimatum behind the real reason he wanted to talk, not thinking it was just some catching up. But, the stress of the past month had made Tom into a walking mess. Maybe this would bring back some old times, like when he was a kid in a baseball cap and his dad brought him to baseball games and carnivals when his mom was on business trips.
“Fucking Christ,” Tom said under his breath, running his hands through his hair. He blinked away the tears at the waterlines of his tired eyes, wiping them with his t-shirt before getting up.
It was still hard to pass Summer’s room and see it still untouched and empty. Tom kept it neat and clean, hoping it motivated his hope to have her back home. Sometimes he’d sit on her bed and think about the little life the three of you had together. She probably missed her stuffed animals she had tea parties with or the t-shirts she couldn’t fit in her bag. Maggie refused to let him over anymore, not after the last time they saw each other and how frustrated he got. It was hard to think that Tom was holding out for nothing, and Summer could never be in his life again.
He leaned against the doorframe, staring at the bunny sitting on her bed. It was the bunny you and Tom spent hours looking for sometimes, one day realizing that Summer started to do it on purpose. She would hide it in the last place you could think of and it became a race of who could find Mr. Fluffycakes first. She finally admitted one day that she thought it was a game that you and Tom liked to play, so she would try to find the perfect place to almost camouflage the soft, grey bunny.
Tom held it in his hands, bring it up to his face, and smelling the familiar, lavender-vanilla detergent. He sighed, glaring at the small paintings taped with scotch tape to her wall by the dollhouse in the corner of her room. It was Summer’s favorite Christmas present she had ever gotten, Tom’s mom hoping she’d like it after getting it from London. She traveled a lot, always sending things in the mail to Summer, but rarely making appearances with how much she did work. Tom hoped that would change from when he was a kid, but now he understood how his parents ended up separating.
“You okay, babe?” You grinned, leaning on the doorframe and glaring at Tom sat on Summer’s book nook.
“Yeah, just miss her.” He half-smiled, biting his bottom lip after and tossing her bunny on the bed.
You walked over, sitting next to Tom and wrapping your arm around his shoulder before kissing his temple trailing to the apple of his cheek then lightly pressing your nose against his cheek.
“I bet she misses you a lot too.” You replied. “Have you heard from Maggie? Any chance of… seeing her? Maybe a short visit.” You asked, pulling your head away to turn to him.
He nodded, “We haven’t talked. I don’t want Summer to see me like this anyways.” Tom said low, lightly touching his bruised eye.
“C’mon, you look noble and tough. She’ll think you’re more of a hero than you already are.” You joked, trying to get a smile out of him.
“Hmm, I wish I felt like that.” Tom sighed.
Trying to figure out the gears working in Tom’s head was always a mystery. You watched his brown eyes shift back and forth as he was leaned over, his elbows against the top of his knees. Another long sigh passed his lips and you could tell something else was really bothering him, not needing him to say it.
“What’s wrong, baby? C’mon, you have that furrow in your brow.” You tilted your head.
He bit the inside of his cheek, his pride fighting his urge to just open his mouth, but he had a soft spot for you like no one else could. The instant Tom looked into your eyes, he felt the comfort he knew he needed.
“My dad called me, just now.”
“Oh… Is that good or bad?” You asked.
He cracked his knuckles, shrugging, “Both, kind of...”
You didn’t know much about Tom and his dad’s relationship other than Tom hating his stepmom, in light terms than he used. But, he wanted Summer to keep in contact with them for as long as he could. So many years had passed since you last saw his dad, so it didn’t feel right to butt in when you knew the bare minimum, but last Thanksgiving was unforgivable in Tom’s book so you stood by his side on what he felt.
“We’re gonna meet for dinner tonight… at the bar. I want to take a shift tonight.” Tom added.
You sighed, “Tom, you can’t work. We have to go to the doctor soon.”
“Just tonight. I promise. I… I need to do something with myself.” He groaned as he ran his fingers through his hair, rubbing the top of his head before looking back into your eyes.
“Okay… I understand. But, just tonight.” You agreed and rubbed his arm, pressing your cheek against his shoulder.
Tom sat up, straightening his back and you pulled your face away from his shoulder to look him in the eye. Your faces were close together, a few inches away before he asked, “Can you come with me? ‘Cause, I don’t think I can do it alone.” He admitted then bit the inside of his cheek.
You tried to hide your smile, happy that he was opening up a bit at a time.
“Of course, babe. I’ll go with you for however long you need me.” You said as you trailed your hand to his, intertwining your fingers together and giving him a quick squeeze. Tom’s smile slowly painted on his tired face, bringing the top of your hand to his lips.
“Thank you. Really, thank you. You don’t know how grateful I am for you.”
“Well, I have all day.” You jeered and it made him smile again, wrapping his arms around you to scatter kisses on your cheek and neck.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
The bar wasn’t busy during the late afternoon, before the fleet of college students and single women came through for the nightlife. But it was a relaxed spot when the sun was still out. A few husky men sat at the bar, eating chips and drinking pints to watch the various games on the flat screens or truckers stopping by for a nice meal and taking a smoke outside. It wasn’t the most formal place to meet up, but Tom had work in two hours so it was more convenient than worrisome to impress his dad.
You and Tom sat at a table for four, sitting next to one another and your arm linked around his. He was dressed in his work attire which was a dark-blue button-down paired with a white t-shirt with his name tag on the right side of his chest, solid black jeans that were a bit baggy on him, and his raggedy converse with the laces looped around the ankle once. He kept checking his watch every few minutes while he tapped his right foot against the floor and it began to make you a bit antsy.
“Baby, you need to relax.” You reminded him, lightly pressing your hand down on his thigh.
“I am. I’m just mentally preparing for what he’s gonna say to me.” He sighed as he sat up in his chair.
“Like what?”
“Oh, you really want me to go through the entire list?” Tom sarcastically joked, a half-smile on his lips.
You humored him with a giggle, but nodded your head, “You’re overthinking it. It’ll be okay and I’m right here next to you.”
Tom leaned in, giving you a light kiss that made your stomach fill with butterflies. You never knew how tender he could be when he didn’t seem like the kind of guy who enjoyed PDA. But, he became putty when he was around you by this point that it was hard not to want to kiss you when you comforted him.
He quickly looked down at his watch again, “He’s almost an hour late. He probably bailed.”
“Don’t say that. He’s gonna come, maybe, he’s just in weekend traffic.” You tried to keep his head up.
Tom rubbed the back of his neck, but he couldn’t help but slowly feeling the creeping feeling of abandonment on his shoulders. He wanted to give his dad a chance, he really did, but this was reminding him of how he was never the most reliable. It twisted Tom’s trust issues in every person he met and having to be forced to sit there, wondering and waiting, was eating Tom alive.
Another half-hour passed and Tom decided to clock in early. He didn’t feel like having to sit there for another hour, only to be asked and told exactly what he expected to hear. You told him that you’d sit at the end of the bar, staying with him until he specifically asked you to go home, but really you wanted to hang around to make sure Tom didn’t get into another bar fight that ended up with him having more than a concussion.
Some college students fled in and asked for a round of beers while others waited for their favorite cocktails. There was enough staff tonight that Tom didn’t feel overwhelmed like last few times, sometimes having to clock in on days he didn’t work because someone called in sick. The new guys were nice, most of them young and needing something to do during graduate school or trying to make rent.
As Tom wiped down the bar when a group of girls left, his manager, Teddy, called his name from behind. He quickly looked over his shoulder and tossed the rag in the bucket underneath the bar, walking over to Teddy who never failed to not have a clipboard in his hands. He never took off his wedding ring at work like some of the other servers and bartenders and even so, he gushed about his wife, Anna, when he could. Even though he sounded like a broken record some days, Tom admired how Teddy flaunted his stable, almost 20-year relationship.
“Glad to see you back, Tommy!” Teddy grinned at him, putting his hand on his shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah. I feel better, I just have to go to a few doctor’s appointments, if that’s okay with you.” Tom asked in the moment, crossing his arms.
“Of course! Of course. For how long you’ve been working here, I don’t think you’ve ever taken a sick day or called in last minute.”
“It’s just been two years, Teddy. You make me sound old.” Tom joked, cracking a smile.
“Yeah, but I still appreciate you. You’re a valuable asset.”
Tom didn’t want to take the compliment, but he still nodded and grinned.
“Hey, have you heard anything from that guy’s lawyers? Are they giving you any compensation?” Teddy curiously asked as he wrote with his signature, blue pen on the paper of the clipboard.
“My girlfriend and I found a lawyer, but I don’t know if he’s good enough to make sure I get the money I’m supposed to get. We’re working it out.” Tom reassured him as he glared at his feet.
Teddy smiled at Tom, big and sincere, “Well, as long as you have that support, you’ll be prepared for anything that comes your way. I’m sure your daughter will too.”
Tom nodded, “Yeah… She’s a great kid.”
He still hadn’t told anyone at work what had happened with Summer, seeing it was no one’s business other than everyone knowing he got hired because he was a single dad trying to provide for his daughter, at least who he thought was his daughter.
“Well, I’ll let you get back to work. Let me know if you need anything.” Teddy acknowledged before walking to the kitchen through the doors.
Tom bit his bottom lip before sealing his lips, looking out at the crowd coming in. Out of habit, he checked his watch again, but quickly turned away to not keep holding out with his dad to come. When Tom’s gaze landed on you, his eyes softened a bit at the natural glow you had. You were talking to a girl who you knew in college, both of you still sat at the end of the bar and you smiled and laughed with her.
As he walked over to where you were, your eyes went to him and your friend looked over her shoulder.
“I’ll see you around, Y/N.” She grinned, flashing Tom a friendly smile before she walked back over to her table of friends.
Tom’s eyes followed her then turned his focus to you, leaning on the bar, “Who was that?”
“She was in a few of my classes in college. Good friend. She thought that I had a pretty cute boyfriend too. Apparently, his black eye makes him look very brawny.” You teased, bringing your class of water to your lips as you watched him chuckle.
“Is he here tonight? I’d love to meet him finally.” Tom joked back.
The brightness was back in his brown eyes, a glimmer of hazel under the warm light. You hadn’t seen that gleam in a long time and it was a good sign and as much as you couldn’t know what was going through his mind, you just wanted more moments like this. Both of you away from the apartment where you weren’t secluded to walls that had too many memories built within them.
You leaned on the bar, your nose brushing against Tom’s before you shared a sweet, short kiss. You giggled against your lips as he did too, but you pulled back when you heard someone say his name from behind.
Tom’s dad stood there, his hair was a salt-and-pepper shade and a few lines along his face. The shoulders of his cargo jacket were wet from the downpour outside, a few raindrops dripping down his forehead and nose.
“Hey, Dad…” Tom sighed.
You turned to Tom, “Go, it’ll be okay, baby.” You reassured him, placing your hand on top of his.
“Okay. I’ll see you in a bit.” Tom said before giving you another kiss then walked around the bar to meet with his dad in the middle of the floor.
“Do you wanna sit?” His dad asked him, gesturing his hand to the table next to them.
“Yeah, I just have a few minutes,” Tom said, pulling out the chair.
His dad furrowed his eyebrows, “What happened to your face? Did you get into a fight?”
“Uh, yeah. Sort of. It’s not important.” Tom deflected as he lightly touched his eye, not thinking his bruise was that noticeable in the dim lighting of the table.
“I think it’s important.” His dad chuckled, leaning on the table to get a closer look, “C’mon, who was it?”
Tom nodded his head, “That’s not why you’re here to talk, Dad.” He said lowly, crossing his arms.
“Well, I wanted to catch up. How are you? How’s Summer?” His dad tried to carry the conversation in a more positive manner, hoping he could connect with Tom without it becoming an argument.
“Um, Summer’s fine. She’s in kindergarten this year.” Tom replied.
“Wow! Kindergarten already? It’s like yesterday you were that age. You would always wear that damn baseball hat everyday… your mom would throw a fit and she tried to hide it from you all the time, but you managed to always find it. Ah, she just loved when your hair grew out.” His dad chuckled, leaning back in his chair and he glanced over at you.
“Yeah… She’s getting older.”
“You have a picture?” His dad quickly asked.
Tom pulled out his phone, scrolling through his gallery until he found a picture from a few weeks ago at her birthday party. It was when Summer was blowing out her candles, her knees pressed into the chair cushion and her one hand pushing her up on the table while the casted one was by her side as she tried to reach the top of the cake.
“She broke her arm? Geez, what’s going on in your lives?” His dad smiled at the picture before Tom took his phone back.
“Her and Y/N went ice skating and she fell and… it was a whole thing, but she’s okay now.”
His dad grinned, “Is that Y/N over there?” He nodded his head in your direction.
Tom looked over his shoulder at you, still sat at the bar and you were talking with one of the bartenders. You crossed your leg over the other as you carried the conversation with a glowing smile painted on your lips, gesturing with your one hand while the other cupped your drink. The red and yellow lights strobed against your face, highlighting it past all the people passing by to get drinks or dance on the other side of the room. You felt Tom’s eyes glued to you, making you stare back at him and give him a playful wink.
“Yeah. We’re... dating now.” Tom admitted, glancing down at the table and drawing slow circles with his index finger on the polished wood.
Tom’s dad smiled, “Yeah well, you always had a crush on her. Glad to know you guys are still close. She was always a nice kid and… from what you told me, she was good with Summer.”
Every time Summer’s name was brought up, it struck Tom’s nerve and it made his face heat up. The more he talked about her, the more upset he got about what was going on complied with the other things going on in his life. Tom clenched his jaw, not able to reply and his dad could see he was upset. Even though Tom was growing older and he was his own man, his father could always tell when something was wrong. As much as Tom didn’t think anyone could figure him out, his dad could read him like the back of his hand.
“Is something else going on? Other than me just showing up?” His dad tilted his head to try to look at Tom.
As Tom’s pride fought his ego, he didn’t want to feel like he was suddenly giving into his father now that he was sitting in front of him. The idea of talking to his dad made him upset and brought back cruel memories, but now that he was venting and talking about things he thought he would be angry about, this seemed like a better time than any other to explain what was really going on.
Tom picked at his nail, trying to find the first words to say to how he felt without it feeling like a corny, emotional sitcom moment.
His face heated up, “I… I sort of found out that I’m… not Summer’s biological father.” Tom pinned his lips, tears developing by the corners of his eyes saying it out loud.
Tom’s father was shocked, not showing it on his face, but he gulped, “Are you sure?”
“A hundred percent. I took a DNA test at the doctor’s and… it sort of just… Well, I trust it enough to take it one time. The girl who’s her mom took her away, probably just for the child support, but I can’t figure out what to do… It’s been a month without her and I can’t sleep anymore, Dad. I raised her and I never doubted she was my daughter until now.” Tom choked up, a dryness in his throat making it hard to take a deep breath. He ran his hand over the top of his hair, weaving his fingers through the fluffy brown curls and pushing it away from his forehead.
His dad took a few seconds to contain his thoughts, wanting to truly think before he spoke and knew how much Summer meant to Tom.
“And on top of that, this asshole threw a punch at me at the bar last week and that’s how I got this.” Tom gestured to his eye, “And now I’m trying to get a settlement, but I don’t think I can afford the lawyer, and… everything is falling apart.” Tom trailed, finally looking right into his dad’s eyes who’s were similar to his.
Tom lowered his head, trying to hold his tears back at the sudden release of everything on his mind.
“I know you raised that little girl so well and I’ve always admired you for that.” His dad started.
Tom ran his hands down his face, sniffling as the whites of his eyes turned a light red. He couldn’t look at him as his father started to talk, worrying it was going to be a backhanded compliment and it was the wrong decision to do this.
“But, it’s gonna be hard to get her back if she’s not yours… but, if you find out more about how the mother feels about Summer and the whole situation, I can get in contact with a good lawyer or steer you in the direction of one.” His dad offered, but Tom nodded his head in response.
“Dad, I can’t do that.”
“I’m your father and I’m not gonna leave you hanging like this… I know you love Summer and you raised her. I’m not gonna let you drown yourself in a settlement on top of that, okay?”
“I’m not a kid anymore. I can take care of this-”
“You’re not, I know that! You’re a grown adult who’s just needing some help and that’s fine.” His dad emphasized, understanding how hard-headed his own son could be.
Tom nodded, “I want it to be a loan. I can pay you back for however long it takes.”
“No, no. Let me help you out… as your dad. I’m not a bank, I’m not… anyone else. I’m your father and I know that if you were taken away from like Summer was to you, I’d want everything to be as smooth as possible.” His dad explained, trying to show how much he truly cared about his son despite the cold, bitter tension between them for the past year and a half.
The two of them sat there with the noise of the people’s conversations around to fill the silence, but Tom came to his decision and he nodded, “Okay. It’s a deal.”
They didn’t even shake hands, let alone hug, but the thankfulness was implied. Tom’s dad grinned at his son, the one who was just a little kid he wishes he truly gave the world to instead of sitting here thinking he had a lot to make up for. 
“Other than all of that, have things been good otherwise?” His dad asked, glancing up at him.
Tom chuckled, “Just this and not much else. It’s been pretty boring without Summer around. But, Y/N has made it better.”
“Is she a keeper?” His dad grinned.
“She’s more than that. She’s really great and I could… see her in my life forever.”
His dad smiled, “I remember when she broke her arm and you just went on and on about dropping her homework at her house. I had to… call the school and get the parent contact information and then you were all jittery and nervous in the car. Even gelled your hair that day.” He recalled, smiling at the memory.
Tom blushed, “I wasn’t that nervous.”
“She really is a sweet girl. I’m happy for you.” His dad appreciated him, nice to see a smile finally on his face.
“Thanks, Dad.” Tom’s smile curled up, patches on red painting his cheeks at the thought of you even if you were sitting a few feet away.
“Well, it looks busy here so, maybe we can reschedule for an actual dinner. One that I don’t have to tip you for.” His dad jokes as they both stand up from their seats.
“Yeah, yeah. Of course. Definitely.” Tom nodded, running his sweaty palms down the front of his pants.
“It was really nice to see you. Don’t be a stranger.” His dad stood in front of him, staring at the mature and put-together man his son had become in the blink of an eye. It was a bittersweet feeling that maybe their time apart was leading up to this moment.
“I won’t.” Tom grinned, leaning in and wrapping his one arm around his dad.
His dad linked his arm around him as well, his hand meeting Tom’s back and giving it a few rubs before they pulled apart.
“I’ll keep in touch with you about the lawyer.”
“Thanks again.” Tom nodded.
You glanced over your shoulder, watching them go their own ways and his dad gave a quick wave to you. When your eyes shifted to Tom, he had a glow on his face, wanting to hide his smile by sealing his lips. You couldn’t help but grin, swiveling the barstool around to face him and you reached out for his hand.
“How did it go?” You simply asked, placing your hand on top of your knee.
Tom nodded, “It was fine, we can talk about it more when I get home.”
“No, tell me now.” You giggled, not wanting to put a damper on his news.
He half-smiled, “Just know that everything is going in the right direction. My dad said he’d help me a little bit with the settlement stuff and that way I can focus on Summer and what we’re gonna do.”
You ran your thumb over the top of his hand, “I’m really proud of you, you know that?”
“It was nothing-”
“It was something.” You retorted with a sweet smile, giving a light squeeze to his hand, “C’mhere.”
You placed your hand on his cheek, pulling him in to press a soft kiss on his lips. Deep down, he knew it wasn’t easy, but he didn’t want to take pride in something that seemed silly after it had happened. Luckily, he had you to remind him that he was taking the steps he needed to get Summer back. It was the first time you could see the light inside him even if he didn’t want to show it. Just from the difference in his smile, there was that gleam of hope.
As you pulled away, you sealed your lips and grinned at him. Your nose scrunched up as you both giggled, suddenly overwhelmed by the happiness filling yours and Tom’s hearts. You brushed your nose against his, your foreheads pressing together before he gave you another light kiss.
“Okay, I gotta work. You should go home, get some rest.”
“Well, I kind of wanna stay. It’s nice here and you’re just someone cute to look at.” You tilted your head.
“Why don’t you order something, on me, relax for a while and I’ll try to get off work early. Maybe, we can pick up ice cream on the way home to celebrate.” 
“Celebrate? Must have been really great news that I can’t wait to hear in detail.” You jeered and he planted a light kiss on your forehead before rounding behind the bar. He grabbed his rag, shoving it in his back pocket and you turned around toward him.
“What would you like to drink tonight, ma’am?” Tom said jokingly, placing a cocktail napkin on the bar in front of you.
Your lips to the side, “A rum and coke and make it dirty, Mr. Barkeep.”
He chuckled as he pulled a glass off the bottom shelf, beginning to make your drink in swift moves. He looked so natural behind the bar as he poured the bottles in intricate ways, finishing off the beverage with two cherries.
“Let me know if you need anything.” He smiled followed by a wink.
“Nothing I can say in public.” You teased before taking a sip of your drink.
Tom smirked at you before moving down the bar, tending to other customers with a natural smile on his lips. You tilted your head with your drink in your hand, almost in awe of him and how handsome he was.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
The night was getting louder while the crowd was growing, some people passing by bumping your shoulder even though you were still sat at the bar. You saw a few friends and struck up conversations with them to catch up, not completely bored while Tom was working, but you were worried about him. You hoped that he wouldn’t oddly hurt himself, having to take him to the ER and give him a good “I told you so” talk on the way there.
As you worked on your second drink, your phone vibrated in your purse and the screen lit up. You furrowed your eyebrow at the unknown number but still decided to take it in case it was important. You asked your friend to save your seat as you took your purse, moving through the crowd to get outside. The rain was pouring still, but you stood underneath the awning of the bar as people ran under it, drying themselves off before entering.
“Hello? This is Y/N.”
“Y/N? It’s Summer.” She whimpered, her voice at a whisper.
She stole Maggie’s phone that she left on the charger in her room, sneaking it away and using the emergency numbers written on the tag of her backpack. Tom didn’t answer first, making her worried so she decided to call you and hoped to hear your voice she missed so much.
Your heart dropped, “Summer? Are you okay?”
“No, the lady is mean. She makes me go to bed early with no bedtime stories like Daddy said she would. She-she’s not fun and she leaves me with a strange lady next door.” She sniffled, curled up behind her bedroom door.
“Wh-What strange lady?”
“She’s old and mean too. I don’t wanna be here anymore. I wanna be with you and daddy.” Summer continued to cry at a low volume, muffling her whimpers to not let Maggie hear in the next door.
You felt your heart breaking, not sure what to say since she wasn’t your kid but, in a way, she was. You pinched your nose bridge and the heavy rain making it hard to have a clear mind.
“Um, um, have you talked to your dad? Are you safe?” You asked, frantic as her.
“N-no, Daddy didn’t answer. Please come pick me up. I hate it here.” She wept, her voice shakey as she begged.
You nodded, not able to take it anymore, “You wait there, we’re gonna come to get you.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
The time was almost midnight, but a loud knock echoed against Maggie’s door. She groaned, getting herself out of bed and thinking it was a drunk at the wrong apartment or someone playing a prank. As she approached the door, Maggie put her hair into a bun to clear her vision when she approached the door in the dark. After flicking on the light switch for the warm light above her, she opened the door and saw Tom dripping wet.
“Tom?... It’s almost midnight. I told you not to come here again.”
Tom sighed, “Y/N got a call from Summer and she was upset.”
Maggie rolled her eyes, “I can’t believe she took my phone. Jesus, what did you teach her? Because she’s been acting out in school, whenever I’m at work, I can’t take her anywhere!” She complained, her arm slapping against her side as the other held the door open.
“I didn’t teach her that. You’re the one who doesn’t know her and I know you’re not treating her right.”
“Oh, how do you know?”
“You leave her with some strange woman when you’re not here?”
“It’s my mother, Tom. I work, I have an actual job, okay? Not some side gig at a crappy bar where I can live on my tips.” She retorted, but it made Tom’s anger quickly grow.
Tom ran his hand through his wet hair, almost defeated by how defensive she was.
“Why are you doing this? She’s upset and she wants to see me.”
“Well, Summer is just a kid, she’ll get over it. Not getting her way is a part of life, Tom. God! You babied her so much that she just comes crying to you.” Maggie hissed at him, ready to slam the door in his face.
“She is a baby! She’s a kid, Maggie. She called Y/N because she can’t stand you. Do you think that’s good for her? Being here?” Tom yelled back, his jaw clenched and his face heating up.
“You know, I’m getting really sick of you saying what Y/N thinks is good for Summer like she’s her stepmother or something.”
“And where were you being mom of the year? Huh? Why do you have such a problem with her, Maggie? She’s the one who helped me throughout raising Summer, not you because you were never here!”
Maggie crossed her arms, her only defense since she didn’t have any words.
“Where were you when she took her first steps? Her first words? When she got her first A in kindergarten? Did you take her to the hospital when you thought she had a peanut allergy or when she fell ice skating? Who was there for her, Maggie?!” Tom persisted, his eyes filling with tears at how angry he felt.
Maggie couldn’t look Tom in the eyes because it was all true, she knew it this whole time, but hearing it out loud made her even feel a bit guilty.
“So, why do you suddenly want her now? Is it money? Or do you really want her to be in your life? I can arrange it any way you want if you really do what her back in your life, but I don’t think it’s fair that you just swoop up and take her away when she’s my kid too. A kid that I raised since you left her on my doorstep six years ago.”
Maggie chuckled out of spite, “You’d never get it.”
“Then tell me! Tell me so I understand. It’s just us right now. Y/N isn’t here and all I want is Summer back home so, what is the reason, Maggie?” Tom asked, his voice a bit more calm, but still frustrated that he hadn’t gotten a straight answer the entire time they had been standing there, “I know there’s a reason why you didn’t tell me all these years that she wasn’t mine. You know it and I know it… I just want you to be honest with me. Okay?” Tom retorted.
She sighed, stepping outside and closing the door behind her. As she rubbed her hands down her face, her breath was shaky as the truth was trying to inch out of your mouth.
“I… Summer’s dad and I were dating and I told him about her and he was… upset. Like, he thought I was just a bad mom and he said he’d leave me if I didn’t just take care of her.” She huffed, shrugging at how stupid it sounded coming out.
Tom was baffled, but he let her explain herself without interrupting.
“H-He left to Vegas or San Diego or wherever. He left me again and now I just… I wanted to prove myself!” She whined, gritting her teeth as a tear trailed down her cheek, “But, she hates me and I don’t blame her, but I know I’m not a mom. I never… wanted a kid, okay? I just… I wanted him back.”
All Tom thought was that she was selfish. He could yell and scream all he wanted, taking Summer away from her in the next few seconds, but nevertheless, he controlled his breathing and tried to hear her out.
“Anything else?” He asked looking down at his feet, his arms crossed and feeling a chill from the AC.
Her eyes were teary, but she nodded, “Don’t hate me, please. Please.” She begged at a whisper.
“I don’t… Just, do the right thing now and let her come back home.” Tom sighed, his voice broken as well.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
Your body felt on fire from how anxious you felt, your foot tapping against the floor of Tom’s car. You waited, thinking your heart was going to burst in your chest if you had to wait any longer. A few minutes went by, concentrating on the time on the radio, but the heavy rain made the car windows look like stained glass. You hated biting at your nails, but you couldn’t help it after hearing Summer’s scared voice.
You curled up in the passenger seat, pulling on the seatbelt. You couldn’t just sit there anymore and do nothing, but stare at the dashboard and listen to the rain hitting the windshield. Your eyes began to tear up, wiping them quickly with the sleeves of your shirt, but you turned your head when you heard the back door open.
Tom was soaked from head to toe by this point, but Summer was curled around him before he set her on the seats. She had her backpack on, her hair damp and she was in her matching pajamas. Rain dripped off her noise and she wiped her wet forehead with the back of her hand.
“You get buckled in, just buckle in, okay?” Tom told her, still standing in the rain as he gave her the buckle of the seatbelt.
She nodded, guiding it across her body and pushing it in the lock until she heard the click.
“There you go.” He nodded, shutting the door and walking around the front of the car.
You sealed your lips as tears ran down your cheeks, tasting how salty your tears were. When Tom sat down, practically throwing himself into the car, your eyes met and you smiled at him. There was a sense of relief back in your lives at this moment, possibly a perfect one. As you glanced over your shoulder, Summer’s head was against the door and her eyes were heavy, but you reached your hand back to meet hers, holding it so tight that you never could think to let go again.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜
tags/taglist: @felicityparkers @dhtomholland @duskholland @sinisterspidey​@itstaskeen​ @tomhollandsgirlfriend​ @bi-writes​ @infinite-imagination​ @honeyspidey​ @hollandcrush​ @sunsetholland​ @pparkersbitch​ @namoreno​ @calltothewild​ @spideyspeaches​ @veryholland​ @osterfieldshollandgirl​ @slutforsebstan @bi-lmg​ @sunshinepeterparkr​ @annathesillyfriend​ @madmadmilk​ @antigoneidk​ @hollandcreep​ @wierdflowerpower​  
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mandospace · 3 years
Text
Inside and Out (Din Djarin x Reader)
Request:  Hello!! I was wondering if I could request something? I was wondering if you could possibly do like a touch starved Din? I would so love it! Whenever you are able and inspired to write of course! ❤️ thank youuuu!
Requested By: @snow30285​
Word Count: 3,997
Warnings: Fluff!! Blood, mention of an injury, first-aid
A/N: I got a little carried away with this! I hope you all like it, and if you wanted to be added to a tag list just let me know. Also, my requests are open for Din Djarin and Boba Fett!
MASTERLIST
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He caught himself staring at your form for the fourth time that day. Din quickly averted his eyes, cheeks flushing under his beskar helmet. You hadn’t noticed his gaze, thank the Maker, and continued on with your task. Grogu giggled at you hiding your face behind your hands, playing a game of peek-a-boo with you. 
“Where did mommy go?” You hid your smile behind your hands. Quickly dropping them from your face, you smiled at the small green child that erupted into a fit of giggles. “There she is!”
Din’s heart stuttered at the image of you playing with his child, Grogu waddling towards you before leaping into your lap. Grogu continued giggling, his tiny little hand reaching out to grab at yours. 
“AHHH, YOU GOT ME!” You dramatically cried out before falling to the ground, wrapping a secure arm around his body to ensure that he was safe. He carefully stood up on your belly, waddling his way to your face. His little hand rested on your cheek, and the soft smile you gave him made Din’s heart falter once more. You rested your larger hand on top of Grogu’s little one, holding it to your cheek. The tender moment shared between you and Din’s son was almost picturesque, it reminded him of the old oil paintings that displayed a mother and child in the palaces of the more richer planets Din visited. 
You turned your lips to place a small kiss on his little green hand. Din felt himself involuntarily reaching a hand out, wanting to join in on the tender moment between the two of you. Din imagined that he was the one cupping your cheek, his big hands instead of the small green ones of his son. He imagined how warm your cheek would be, how soft the fine peach fuzz of your cheek would feel against his palm. How your soft, pillowy lips would feel against his skin...
“Din?” Your voice is what pulled Din back to reality. You looked up at him with concern in your eyes, gaze flicking down to his still outstretched hand. “Are you okay?”
Din brought his hand back to his side, leather creaking as he closed his fist. “’M fine,” he mumbled, turning to head back to the cockpit. “It’s time to drop from hyperspace.”
Nodding your head at his retreating form, you looked back at the child that let out a small yawn. “Come on, little one. Let’s get you to bed.”
——
“I should only be gone for a few days, a week at most.” Din commented, grabbing various weapons from his armory. You stood off to the side, Grogu balanced on your hip while the two of you watched Din strap the pulse rifle to his back. You’ve watched Din prepare for a hunt what felt like hundreds of times, but it never got easier. The worry that laid deep in your chest never went away.
“Remember to close the ramp once I’m gone,” Din moved to the ramp, pressing a button on his vambrace to lower it. “And set up the safety perimeter. I recently just installed the new security system, so it should alert you to any nearby life forms. And-“
“And have a blaster nearby and communicuff on me at all times,” you interrupted his ramblings. He only talked this much when it had to do with either your or Grogu’s safety. “I know, Din.”
Din turned to you with a sigh, black visor meeting your gaze. He noticed that your bottom lip was already between your teeth, showing your worry. He wanted to reach out and glide his thumb over your lips, releasing your bottom one from your teeth. “I just want to make sure you are safe, Cyare.”
You smiled at his words, noting the strange nickname he gave you. He only ever used it when he was leaving. “I know, and we will be. Don’t worry about us, just focus on your hunt.”
Din felt himself reaching out to you, but he stopped his hand midway. “I always worry about you...” Din’s voice trailed off, and your heart thumped in your chest. “And Grogu,” he added, his face reddening under the beskar. Just talking to you made him flustered.
He turned back to the ramp and gazed out of its opening. He had tracked the bounty to some forested planet, you weren’t sure of its name. After you visited one forest planet, you’ve seen them all. You could see Din’s shoulders tighten under his beskar pauldrons, anxious and excited at the prospect of a new hunt. This was the part that you hated the most: him leaving you. Before he even took a step onto the ramp, your free hand was reaching out for him, gripping his arm around the elbow, one of the only places on his body free of beskar.
Din stopped in his tracks, and he felt like he was going to both pass out and have a heart attack at the same time. Your small hand couldn’t even reach around the thick muscles of his arm. Even though he was wearing thick layers, he could feel the warmth from your hand seeping through. His eyes dropped to your hand on him, and he couldn’t believe you were actually touching him. It wasn’t even skin-to-skin contact, but his heart was already in hyperdrive. This all happened in a single second, the span of a blink.
“Be safe.” Your voice was small, timid at this new interaction you were having with the Mandalorian. You had always thought him attractive, even though you had never seen an inch of his skin. You admired his strength and how great of a warrior he was. The silver beskar just proved how powerful he could be if he saw you as an enemy. What really attracted you to him wasn’t his strength or how great of a warrior he was, no, it was how soft and protective he was over Grogu. He always held him with great care, as if he would break with the tiniest movement. He spoke softly to the kid, afraid he would scare him with his louder voice. Watching him and his son interact is what really attracted you Din, like some primal instinct telling you to find the strongest and most caring partner you can. “Come back to me.”
“Always, Cyare.” Din’s heart fluttered at your soft spoken words. Before his heart could leap through his beskar-covered chest and into your arms, he turned away from you. Your hand slipped from its resting place on his arm and he immediately missed your touch and warmth. He could feel the longing he felt for you nestle its way in his chest, right near his heart. Before he could do or say anything stupid that would surely embarrass himself, he trudged down the ramp and began his hunt.
———
It had already been six days since Din had left for his hunt. Your mind kept drifting back to the feel of his hard muscles under your fingertips. How his voice was soft when he said the strange name of ‘Cyare,’ a name he only said when he left. You knew it was Mando’a, but no matter how many times you scanned the holo-pad’s built in dictionary, you couldn’t find a single word of the dying language. You resigned yourself to the fact that you may never know what he was calling you, unless you asked him. But that was never going to happen, your words always stumbled out of your mouth when you talked to him.
So you busied yourself around the Razor Crest whilst you waited for the return of your Mandalorian, trying to keep away the thoughts of how his hands would feel on your skin. You had cleaned nearly every surface in the old ship and even organized the wires under the dashboard. By the time you were done with your chores, the Crest was nearly spotless- there was always going to be that one stubborn blood stain near the carbonite chamber that you were never going to get out. Din had brought back a rather difficult quarry that day, and as soon as he started flinging crude insults at you, Din promptly reached for his viroblade. The cut he made was only superficial, you learned later, but the man still bled quite a bit before Din shoved him back into the chamber. You had immediately tried to clean up the pool of blood, but Din took the rag from your hand with a gentle “Don’t worry, I’ll clean it up.”
Besides the one stain that refused to go away, the Crest was as good as new, or as new-looking that it was going to get. The rest of the day you spent playing with the kid, mind drifting back to thoughts of Din. You had just put Grogu down for a nap when the Crest’s new security system let out a loud beeping noise, alerting you that a life form was approaching the ship. Locking Grogu away in his pram-thankfully he was still asleep- you reached for the blaster that was resting atop the stack of crates. Running up to the cockpit, you noticed that a single dot was showing up on the ship’s new security system. You managed to stop the alarm from blaring before you made your way back to the hull. You were ready to protect yourself and Grogu from this intruder if necessary.
A loud banging noise sounded against the ship as the ramp started to descend. You gripped the blaster tight, switching the safety off. When you saw the silver glint of beskar, you sighed in relief, switching the safety back on before setting it off to the side. Din slowly made his way up the ramp, arm wrapped around his middle. Your eyebrows furrowed in worry, arms reaching out to Din once he was safely inside the hull.
“What happened?” You asked, reaching your arms out to catch Din when he stumbled. “Are you hurt?”
“Knife,” he grimaced as he lowered himself to the ground. His hand slowly fell away from his side, revealing his blood-soaked clothes. “Not deep.”
“Din!” You exclaimed in shock whilst dropping down to your knees. Your hands fluttered to his side, unsure of what to do. “I think you need to remove your beskar.”
“Do it,” he grunted, resting the helmet against the wall with a ‘ting.’ His hand moved to yours, dragging your hand to show you the release mechanism under his cuirass. Flicking the switch, the armor’s magnet released its hold on the beskar. Pushing it to the side, you grasped at the bottom of his tunic, trying to work the fabric up his torso so you could have access to the wound. You tried not to notice the small amount of dark hair leading down to his pants, or the beautiful color of his skin- a warm, sun-kissed tan. Your resolve failed when your eyes trailed over his abdomen, skin littered with scars over the lean muscle. Your fingertips lightly grazed his stomach and Din jerked back with a hiss.
“I’m sorry!” Your hands flew back from his stomach, afraid that you had hurt him in some way.
“No,” Din grunted while his head rolled to the side. “Didn’t hurt, it... felt good.”
You blinked at the Mandalorian currently bleeding all over your clean floors. Okay, he must be delusional. “Din, I don’t know if I’m the best person to do this. There has to be someone el-“
“No one else,” he mumbled, hand reaching for yours. “You can do it, Cyare.”
The familiar nickname is what grounded your rising panic. Making your way to the medicine cabinet, you grabbed the necessary kits and bacta so you could patch Din up. Kneeling at his side once again, you pulled back the remaining clothing to reveal the knife wound. He was right, it wasn’t that deep, but just like the quarry that Din had slashed at all those months ago, he bled quite a lot. You tried to remain as gentle as you could while you wiped a piece of cloth over the wound to soak up the blood. It took a few rags to thoroughly clean the wound, but you had finally gotten it to a manageable state.
“This might sting.” Grabbing the bottle of alcohol from your side, you tipped out the liquid onto a clean cloth. Your eyes flitted up to where his would be but was met with only the familiar visor. Din gave you a slow nod, telling you to ‘go ahead,’ and you placed the alcohol-soaked rag to his wound.
“Dank farrik!” Din yelped, jolting slightly upright in response to the stinging sensation that was radiating from his wound. You could just barely hear the grinding of his teeth from under his helmet, and you visually cringed at his pain.
“I’m so sorry,” you apologized but continued to clean the wound. The knife must have been serrated because the wound was jagged. You laid your free hand on the expanse of his stomach, rubbing reassuring circles into the skin. Din hummed at the contact. Your soft fingers sent goosebumps racing over his flesh, thoroughly distracting him from the pain. He barely registered the soothing cool of bacta when you pressed it against his wound. Din was too distracted by your touch. It was the first time that he felt someone’s touch, skin-to-skin contact since he was a child, and he knew that he was already addicted. You were completely intoxicating and you didn’t even know.
“Done.” Pressing firmly against the newly applied bandage, you could feel Din’s eyes on yours.
“Don’t stop,” he couldn’t stop the words from slipping past his lips. You had pulled away your hands from his torso, and you quirked a brow up in response. “It-it feels g-good.”
“What, me torturing you with alcohol and bacta?” You joked and began to clean up the blood-soaked rags.Your right hand reached for the medpac that was laying next to Din but stopped when he grabbed your wrist. Din slowly pulled your hand to his stomach, resting your soft flesh over his scarred skin. He shivered at your touch and laid his hand over yours, keeping you there. His gloved thumb began to draw patterns on the back of your hand, sending a shiver of your own down your spine. “Din, what are you-”
“C-can I touch you, Cyare?” He interrupted with timid words. He was staring at your face, you could feel his gaze through the helmet. You sat there in shock, unable to comprehend that your hand was sprawled against his warm stomach and distracting you with the light graze of his thumb. “Please,” Din whispered when you didn’t respond to his earlier question. You felt yourself nodding your head in a dumb stupor, not believing that this was real and happening.
He picked his right hand up from yours that rested on his stomach, and moved to cup your face. Din stopped halfway between your bodies, hesitating for a moment, before bringing his other hand up to pull off his gloves. His right hand continued on its previous path, only stopping again when he was a centimeter away from your face. You could feel the tangible tension in the air, the nervousness shared by the both of you while you stared at one another. He just held his hand there for a moment, afraid to touch you and learn exactly how your cheek would feel against his skin. Bringing up your left hand, you placed it over his right one and pressed his palm to your cheek. His skin was rough from years of fighting, but incredibly warm and soothing. 
Din let out a shuddery breath when you took his hand and pressed it against your cheek. You were so soft, so warm against his palm. His thumb lightly brushed over your cheekbone out of curiosity. Eyelids fluttering shut at his touch, the pad of his thumb left sparks against your skin. Din’s heart nearly lept out of his chest when you turned your face into his palm, lips softly pressing into the meat of his hand. Your eyes opened and you looked up at him with such a soft look whilst you held his hand in yours, lips moving over his hand, leaving behind a trail of wet kisses. Right hand joining your left, you gently laid his hand in your lap, palm facing the ceiling. Your fingers traced over every vein in his hand, stopping at his wrist when you met his vambrace. Lifting his hand up to your lips, you placed a tender kiss to his pulse point. Your kisses left him breathless, every brush of your lips intoxicating.
As much as Din loved your soft touches, he wanted to caress you, feel your lips against his. He knew what he had to do in order to feel your lips against his, and the thought made him draw in a tight breath. “Cyare...” He tipped his head forward, leaning his forehead against yours. Your hands trailed to the nape of his neck, fingers worming their way under his thick cowl so that you could feel his hot skin. The beskar was cool against your forehead, a soothing sensation. “Do you trust me?”
“Of course I trust you.” There wasn’t any hesitation in your voice. Being this close to Din was addicting. You wanted to feel more of his skin against yours, have his warmth envelop you.
“Close your eyes, Cyar’ika,” Din whispered. You followed his orders, shutting your eyes tight. He waited a few moments before you felt him lean back, cool beskar no longer present on your skin. You heard the locking mechanism of his helmet release with a hiss and the sound sent your heart racing. Was he taking his helmet off?
Din couldn’t breathe. He tried to pull the much needed oxygen into his lungs, but it was like his diaphragm wasn’t working anymore. Seeing you, truly seeing you without the many filters of the helmet had knocked the wind out of him. You were utterly breathtaking. Din sat there, trying to commit every feature of your face to his memory. You were even more beautiful than he thought was possible. The soft planes of your face made him want to reach out, touch you again. So he did. He was more sure this time, taking your face in both of his hands. You inhaled sharply when he first touched you, not expecting the touch, but you quickly relaxed at his touch that was becoming more familiar with each brush of skin. Both of his thumbs skimmed the planes of your cheekbones, felt the thickness of your lashes when he ghosted over your eyes. It was like he was a blind man trying to see with his hands, creating a mental image from his sense of touch. 
Din continued to map out your face, slowly trailing his thumbs over your skin. He saved your lips for last, wanting to savor them. His thumb brushed over them, and he inhaled sharply when he felt how soft they were. Din desperately wanted to mold his own to yours. “Ca-can,” he stumbled over his words, mesmerized by your beauty. He swallowed down the lump in his throat before he continued. “Can I kiss you, Cyare?”
“Yes.” You hadn’t meant to sound so desperate, and you were sure he could feel how your face heated up at his words. His slow touches were driving you insane, but not as insane as the knowledge that he was a mere six inches away from you, helmet off. It would be so easy to just open your eyes to see him. “Please.”
Hearing the wanting-tone of your voice that matched his ever-growing need for your touch, Din leaned in. His slightly-chapped lips timidly pressed against your soft ones, and you let out a sigh at the feeling. It felt like someone had poured molten lava over you that seeped into the very cracks of your foundation. Timid and shy at first, his kiss became more confident as he slotted his lips against yours. You couldn’t help the way that your hands reached up for his face to pull him closer to you. His kiss made you realize that you had been cold and alone your entire life, and that he was a blazing fire that would warm you to your core. 
Din softly gasped at your actions, and he decided that if he were to die right then and there that he would be completely fine since he was already in heaven with you. He felt the way that your fingers mapped his face like how he mapped yours. When you carded your fingers through his unruly locks, tugging him even closer, he hummed in contentment. Din’s arms snaked around your waist and pulled you to his chest. Your legs draped on either side of his hips, kneeling in front of him. You tilted his head up to yours since you were slightly taller than him in this position, his arms squeezing you closer. Din slowly grazed his tongue over your bottom lip, and he moaned at the feeling of your tongue pressing against his. He explored your mouth, tongue tracing each tooth. Din saw stars behind his lids from kissing you. He had never kissed anyone before, but now he knew why others found it so intoxicating. The feel of your soft lips pressed against his was something he never wanted to forget. He burned this moment into his brain, desperately trying to remember the way your lips felt against his, the way your fingertips tangled in his hair, the warmth of your chest pressed against his.
When the need for air became too great, you both reluctantly pulled apart. You could already feel your lips starting to swell from the passionate kiss the two of you shared. Din’s lips never left your face, though, and he trailed kisses down your cheek and along your jaw. You couldn’t help how his name spilled from your lips when he kissed the juncture of your neck and jaw.
“You are so beautiful,” Din mumbled into your skin. Soft praises fell from his lips with each kiss against your skin. He loved the way you said his name, the way your grip on his hair tightened when he kissed your neck. His grip on you never lessened, hands bunching the material of your shirt in his hands. He never wanted this to end.
“You are too,” you sighed when his lips returned to yours. Din lightly shook his head in disagreement, making sure to not break the kiss. His self-deprecation made you pull yourself back. 
“You don’t even know what I look like.”
Leaning your forehead against his like before, you traced your fingers over his face. “I don’t need to.” You grazed your fingers over his eyelids, down his prominent nose, over his swollen lips. “I know you are beautiful both inside and out, Din Djarin.”
Din was thankful that your eyes were closed so that you couldn’t see the tears forming in his eyes. He placed a loving peck against your lips before he nuzzled his face in your neck. Din breathed in your scent, immediately finding that it both excited and calmed him down. His lips brushed over your jugular, placing a soft kiss there. “I never want to let you go, Cyar’ika.”
“Then don’t.”
“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” he placed another kiss on your neck.
“You know,” you started, fingers slowly working out the tangles in his hair. “I never know what you’re saying when you speak Mando’a.”
“You’ll learn, Cyar’ika,” Din closed his eyes, content at the feeling of you playing with his hair. “You’ll learn.”
_____
Mando’a translations:
Cyare = beloved/loved
Cyar’ika = darling/sweetheart
Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum = I love you
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