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fiendishfables · 3 months

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hello!! i saw ur blog and i was super excited to see another aroaceee is it alright if you do platonic adam x reader headcanons? he can be reader's friend, sibling, or preferably reader's father figure as long as its platonic, anything u'd like is fine! sorry if my request is kinda weird lol, i just haven't seen a lot of platonic hazbin hotel stuff (especially stuff with adam in it)

a/n: Always good to meet other aroace individuals, indeed. I personally love Adam, he is absolutely my favorite character. I’ve been dying to write for him more and thinking of him as a dad is just my favorite scenario-

warnings: cursing, Adam being Adam, brief mentions of sex, subtle hints at Lute x Adam (if you squint)

words: 944

additional notes: this was one of my first asks I ever got; I AM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT. Enjoy~!

Adam as a Father Figure

Headcanons

First of all, he never expected to actually have a kid of his own, but now here he was

By the time you turned 6, you knew about every single curse word in existence, along with a (disturbingly) decent amount of female anatomy

Lute gets promoted to babysitter

When Adam is off performing with his band or needed in the council/other Heavenly resides, Lute is responsible for keeping track of his child

Even if she lost you (which she has, multiple times) he won't be that worried

You were a kid and as far as Adam knew, kids needed food

Hence how he knew you would find your way back to him eventually

Okay scratch that, maybe he does get a little worried...a lot

Starts to doubt his ability as a parent

Once he even got Sera to send out a search party for you because you had been gone longer than usual

It worried him sick whenever you went exploring, but he was almost a bit prideful that his offspring had managed to inherit his sneaking around capabilities already at such a young age

Lute has had to console her boss many times in response to your random disappearances under her watchfulness

He has legit been facedown on the couch with his head in her lap whilst he bawls his eyes out, blabbering to her about his worries pertaining to you, and then somehow that stems to his hopes and dreams in life (he doesn't wanna talk about it)

Only for you to walk in with food from some random location about 10 minutes later

You'd be on the floor as soon as you enter the domicile because Adam would have jumped on you and then proceeded to hug the very life out of you (all while stealing your bag of food in the process and running off with it)

Calls you a bitch, dumbass, and 'a little shit' for worrying him

Though he would never openly admit he had been worried

He doesn't care if you have a social life, he wants you home safe before 9pm, sharp

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

Teaches you how to play guitar

He claims its because he wants to pass on one of his awesome talents to his only child, but he also really wants you to join him and his band on stage one day or another

You are in the starter stages of learning and are able to accurately get chords down and learn to read sheet music

A tear just may have come to his eye

The first song you two ever perform together is "Hell is Forever"

He did see someone try to give you a rose after your performance and nearly knocked them out

Trust him, he's a sex and relationship positive guy (for the most part) but he also can't help but feel like he wants to protect you at all costs

If you dare to call him over-protective, he will very gladly give you the silent treatment for a good 5 minutes

After that time mark, he will be groveling at your feet and whining about how sorry he is (rare that he actually says 'sorry')

His biggest fear is his own child having it out for him and not wanting anything to do with him

A clingy parent, no doubt

Wants to train you in the ways of becoming an Exorcist Angel

Poor guy is a bit insecure about everything and needs extra reassurance, though he would never ever outwardly ask for it

That's a sign of weakness in his eyes

Not for his child though

You come to him with even the smallest hint of watery eyes and he is already going full dad-mode

Determined to find the fucker who made you upset

Promises to give em' a good ol' kick in the balls (or vag)

Adam won't discriminate, he's just there to beat the ass of whoever hurt his precious baby

He will get in a fist fight with Sera in order to make you happy

Just expect to be the one he then blames when he gets demoted

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

Adam totally took lots of naps before he had a child, so this just makes for the two of you ending up crashing on the couch together and creating a melodic tune out of your in-sync snoring patterns

Anything the two of you can do together without constantly arguing is a miracle, so this is to be cherished

He has definitely given you some very creative nicknames (as he calls himself 'Dickmaster')

Lute has taken many pictures

She wants to make a photo album and give it to Adam one day just to piss him off

But as she knows how much he really cares for you, she does not want to risk him growing apart from you due to something stupid she did for a few momentary laughs

Let's you two have your moments without interrupting

The two of you always fight over food and who gets to pick where you go for the evening, if going anywhere at all

Lute claims that you are making Adam all the more emotional, but no one seems to be complaining

Especially not the High Council

Its nice to have him shut his mouth for once and remotely think about his actions and who they could potentially effect

Adam has something to lose now, and everyone in both Heaven and Hell alike knew it

No demon spawn would ever get to set even a foot near you

You were the first life he felt truly responsible for

He refuses to fuck it up and lose someone else he cares about

He would protect you until the ends of time, whether you liked it or not

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goldsbitch · 4 months

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I gave so many signs

summary: First unrequited love is not the one to ever leave your mind. Y/N looks back at her missed connection with Charles Leclerc from the time they were just teenagers and regrets having him slip away.

song fic (disclaimer: rights belong to the respectable owners)

exile - Taylor Swift Lie to me - 5 Seconds of Summer (feat. Julia Michaels) Worst of you - Maisie Peters

warning: Present time, the past

Coming back home to Monaco always brought a sour smile to her face. She loved growing up in this strange small town where everyone knew each other and celebrities came to show off and then went back to wherever, to tell stories of Monte Carlo.

They say that you get to experience three very different real loves in your lifetime - and only if you're lucky, it would be with the same person. Her first love was Charles Leclerc.

I saw you lookin' brand new overnight I caught you lookin' too, but you didn't look twice

Visiting family was the reason why she always came back, but going out with the few girls from high school who stayed there was a treat she dared not to miss. There is just something about hanging out with those people who helped one buy the first eyeshadow and with whom she pregamed at one of their step dad's dermatology office before going on trying to get into any club that would allow minors in. So there she was once again, at the old time spot, having a harder time to hold her alcohol since she'd passed the magic non hangover years. And to her luck, he walked in only a bare half an hour later than her.

Whenever she saw him, even after those years, it was like everyone else had dissapeared from the room. He seemed to age like wine.

It's 3 AM and the moonlight's testing me I know that you've been holding on to someone else And now I can't sleep

"Come here to me," she teased, moving closer to him. He tried to stop her and playfully pushed himself the furthest away possible the couch would allow. "Charlie, let me see!" she insisted and sat on top of him. She had to act quickly, there would be no way for her to keep the upper hand. He was just turning eighteen soon and the time in gym was starting to bring back results. "I do not have any hairline, Y/N," he gasped, annoyed. His tone changed. Back then she interpreted it as just him being done with her shit. Looking at it now, there probably was a different reason why he became more stiff. She sat on him, going through his hair and taking few photos, blissfully unaware. "I'll show this to you in a few years and we'll see! Ha!" Charles eyes were shooting arrows in her direction. She looked back at him, curious and not grasping the moment in the same way as he did. "What?" she asked simply. "Nothing..."

I can see you standing, honey With his arms around your body Laughin', but the joke's not funny at all

She laughed a bit at that memory as she sipped her drink and tried her best to avoid keeping looking back at him as he sat with his current friends and an absolute gorgeous girl laughing at his joke. She knew who she was. Sometimes she peaked at his socials and then blocked him again right away. She certainly knew he had her blocked.

They went to different schools and Charles had his racing activities anyway. So they'd spent a lot of time texting. A lot.

It was just one of the horrifically long school days where she doubted the point of her existence. Life had to be more than sitting in a pointless computer science class. She wanted to be a big lawyer girl boss one day, so why would she ever care about programming. There she was, staring at the assignment from the teacher who was stuck in 20th century anyway, having little to no clue what to do. As she'd usually do, she texted Charles. Bombed him with twenty texts demanding attention, before he finally responded. "OMG i thought someone had died" "i am dying charles" "no your not" "*you're" "i can go back to my race simulator if you keep being a little shit" "nooo, please dont go. you're my only hope. sorry, your. i get it, you got out of the school too early." "that's it, i'm gone" "noo, please stay, I'll be nice and say nice things about you" "i'm staying, go on" "you are absolutely gorgeous" "yes, agree. more" "you are soo funny, amazing, future heart breaker and your passion for racing is so inspiring" "i like this. more"

Second, third, and hundredth chances Balancin' on breaking branches Those eyes add insult to injury

They were inseparable, yet nobody knew. Always meeting alone, because they did not need anyone and their social circles didn't really meet together. Whenever he was back in town, the two of them would hit up their favorite café or hang out at his house and then go for a walk. The two of them walked around Monte Carlo as if they were suppose to be the cartographers creating the first map of that area ever. Those were the good old days that came to end very unexpectedly.

We always walked a very thin line You didn't even hear me out (Didn't even hear me out) You never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)

His hands were shaking when he sent the email. But he just could not take it anymore. He was over the moon in love with her and didn't know how to contain it.

"there is no easy way to say this. i love you. sorry. i'm stupid and i know we're just friends. but i basically live only for racing and seeing you. i'm terrified of seeing you with someone else. if there is at least a cell in your body that feels the same, please let's meet up and talk about it. if not, do not reply and i will never mention this again and deal with it. i love you."

She was seventeen when she got his message out of the blue. A scared little girl who was petrified of feelings and anything relationship related. So she never replied to his email.

All this time I never learned to read your mind I couldn't turn things around (I couldn't turn things around) 'Cause you never gave a warning sign (You never gave a warning sign)

Charles had a very little hope that she'd feel the same - why would she, such an amazing person, kind, fun and totally glorified in his eyes, so he could not even imagine him being worthy of her. But what if? What if he was enough? With every day when she did not respond to his email, his heart sank lower. Still, the pain of the first rejection is a hard one to take, because it's usually from a scared unexperienced heart to another and the clumsiness causes great deal of accidental collateral damage one remembers until the end of their life.

You're not my homeland anymore So what am I defending now? You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out

She texted him from school few days after that - a normal text, as if nothing happened. Both of them were too chicken to address the situation openly. So he opted for buring his feeling and she for playing like she had no idea. Deep down, she always knew, even before he emailed her. They texted, continued to meet up. But it was never the same again.

Flashing back to New York City I was done, but you undid me Classic me to run when it feels right

It was hard to get closure for her. After all that had happened and the mess the two made for each other was a hard lesson she remembered vividly. She glanced at your first love again - and finally she met his look, after almost two years of managing to missing each other while they were both back in Monaco. She'd daydreamed about bumping into him, the two chatting and smiling again. The world stopped again for few moments. He shot her an unsure quick half smile that said it all. She knew him too well for that.

And now I wish we never met 'Cause you're too hard to forget While I'm cleaning up your mess I know he's taking off your dress

It was her prom night and she could not be more excited. All her friends were here, family, even Charles managed to get in town to watch her dance and drink all night. She had the night of her life, perfect end to end this chapter of life. The excitement her eyes held was contagious. She spent the first half of her evening with the family and Charles, sharing few dances and laughs. If felt like the good old days. But one shot of tequila led to another and there she was, drunk as pirate and unhinged like a teenage girl. Charles did his best to keep her parents at bay, keep them occupied while he got one of his friends to take care of her. He was worried she might do something stupid, like walk up to the stage and fall down breaking all of her bones. Finally, her parents decided to leave without having to saying goodbye to her after Charles spent a good half an hour convincing them she was just in the back stage and that he'd get her home safe. When they were gone, he began to search for her, only to finally find her sitting on the stairs, making out with the friend he assigned to keep an eye on her.

So take me to every party and just talk to your friends Why don't you let me down, I'll let you do it again Go on and walk all over me, just don't walk away Give me the worst of you 'Cause I want you anyway

It was like being cut open alive and having people watch. There was nothing even remotely graceful about her actions, she was literally sitting on the floor having a battle of tongues with another drunk teenager while people had to walk pass her. It was embarrassing. Charles didn't know what to do. He wanted to run away and never come back, but he couldn't leave her there alone. He couldn't bring himself to stop the two of his friends, because he was just too sad and heartbroken to do so. He just stayed nearby and kept an eye on them. It was one of the longest nights in his life.

She couldn't remember the second half of her prom night and Charles would never speak of it, even though she begged him many times. He always became stiff and started to leave the room. She only kept asking, because it marked one of the biggest shifts in their friendships. He became cold, unresponsive and after few weeks, he stopped communicating completely.

You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out I think I've seen this film before

Funny how people's faces change with years, but the eyes stay the same. The eyes and the look. Charles looked at her the second time this evening. It was like staring back at the eighteen year old boy who was drowning in his feeling.

It was one of her last nights in Monaco before leaving for university. Finally, her dreams were coming true. She was more than ready to get our to show the world she was a force to be reckoned with. She sent Charles countless messages before her final departure, at that moment, she was sure she'll never ever get back to Monaco and wanted to at least understand why he became distant. One evening, he finally agreed to meet up and talk. She was over the moon. Knowing that she could always turn Charles over, she left feeling confident - he was one the very few people she was sure shared the same soul as her. It was as if they'd never stopped talking. Jokes flying everywhere, the two of them strolling around, having no idea this would be the last time (and maybe, that was better for her at the time). There was so much to share, the two kept talking over each other for hours. Charles was happy when she finally stopped to take a breath for a moment. She looked him in the eye and saw a look she'd seen countless of times on his face. There was a shift in her mind and out of nowhere, she was kissing the boy she'd been unknowingly in love for years. She'd realize that she loved him only once she started dating a random guy from her college, expecting the same feeling Charles gave her. But it never came. Had she known, she'd have stayed with him. He tried to convince her to start dating him. Almost begged her to try it with him long distance. But there was a whole world for you to discover, places to be and versions of her that needed discovering. She had kissed only once. But it was a kiss of a lifetime. He blocked her on all socials after she rejected him again.

I never learned to read your mind (Never learned to read my mind) I couldn't turn things around (You never turned things around) 'Cause you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs) So many signs, so many signs You didn't even see the signs

The girls were laughing at some joke she missed while digging in her memory for traces of her first love. Charles Leclerc. He was sitting few tables away from her. This time, her heart sank as he kissed his girlfriend on the cheek as they walked away from the bar. She wanted to run to him, to talk to him again after all those years. To tell him the same thing he once emailed her. To explain that she was just too young to notice she had the love of her life right next to you. But she knew all too well what his answer would be. And just like he had back then, she never wanted to hear it out loud.

And I know that you don't, but if I ask you if you love me I hope you lie, lie, lie, lie, lie to me

part 2

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ofstarsandvibranium · 11 months

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To Have & To Hold: Part 1

Fandom: Marvel - Moon Knight (Mafia AU)

Pairing: Marc Spector x F!Reader, Steven Grant x F!Reader, Jake Lockley x F!Reader

Summary: To ensure you're always safe even after his passing, your father, a mob boss, makes you marry his right hand, Marc Spector. You don't necessarily hate Marc, but you don't get along either. Therefore, this marriage of convenience may be a bit difficult for you.

A/N: another series because idk. felt like it.

"-I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride." You turn to your now husband and give him a smile. He pulls you in, pressing his lips to yours. There's hollers and whistles all around you. On the outside, you appear to be a couple so in love. On the inside, your heart is dropping to your stomach.

_____________________

6 Months Earlier

"I-I thought you said you were getting better," you look at your father in disbelief. He had just delivered some heart breaking news: he was dying.

For the past few years, he's been receiving treatment and he seemed to be getting better. Turns out, within the last year, he stopped treatment because he was getting tired.

"I was, but sunshine, I just couldn't take it anymore. I'm tired and I'm getting old. I just want to enjoy the last bit of life I have left."

Anger started building up within you. You clenched your jaw and tightened your fists, "But if you end your treatments, you don't get to enjoy life much after! Dad, please just-"

He holds up a hand and you stop talking, "I've already made up my mind, Sunny. And if you're concerned with your financial state-"

"You seriously think I'm concerned with that?" you can't help but be hurt by your father's insinuation.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I know you've never cared for this life," he gestures around to his office, "But, you should know something."

"What?" you're mentally preparing yourself for even more heartbreaking news.

"You and Marc are to be married."

Your eyes widen and your jaw drops, "Are you kidding me?!"

"He will be taking over as my successor once I'm gone and, to make sure you're well taken care of, you'll be marrying him." Your father states everything as factual, giving no room for refusal or compromise.

"But what if I'm already dating someone?"

"You're not. I know you're not. I still have my eyes on you despite you being an adult."

You scoff, "Un-fucking-believable."

There's a knock at your father's office door and he says, "Come in."

The man of the hour, Marc, enters the room. He sees your fuming expression and can't help but smirk, "I see he's told you."

"Clearly. And you're okay with this?!"

Marc shrugs, "Could be worse. Plus, we don't hate each other so this marriage won't be completely unbearable."

You scoff, "Speak for yourself!" you whip around to your father, "Dad-"

"I'm just looking out for you, sunshine."

"And if I don't go through with this?"

Your father's eyes darken, "You can say good-bye to that charity organization you've been working so hard towards."

"You wouldn't."

"Don't forget who still has the power here, sweetheart."

You look to Marc whom still has a neutral expression. You felt conflicted. You'd thought that in this day and age, you'd be able to make your own choices, be able to find someone who you love and they love you back. But the world you've grown up in isn't normal. Your dad is a well known mob boss and he has power. Marc isn't terrible, but you don't know him well. But the charity organization you've been working so hard towards helped children in the community. If your dad takes that away, they won't have anything.

"Fine," you say through gritted teeth, "I'll go through with this."

Your dad's expression changes to glee, "Wonderful! You have six months to get to know each other better before the wedding."

You look at him in surprise, "You already have the wedding date planned?"

"Yes, but the venue, dress, and all of that stuff will be left to you two, of course."

You roll your eyes, "Gee thanks."

"Congratulations you two. Let's have a drink!" you sit and watch as Marc goes to your father's liquor cabinet and pours the three of you a drink. With raised glasses, your father exclaims, "To the L/N Legacy!" the three of you clink glasses and you down the entire glass. You're going to need a lot more where that came from.

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #marvel au #mob boss au #mafia au #mob au

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calxkrbd · 1 year

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swift encounters (genshin men x t.s songs, gn!reader)

Folklore ; cardigan - It was evident that Kazuha still hasn’t moved on from his past lover. Him accepting your confession was probably out of pity, and the longer you’re with him, the more you’ve come to realize that the very man you’d be willing to brawl with the heavens for wouldn’t even lift a finger for your sake. Before, his presence lingered like a tattoo kiss and you felt over the moon whenever you were with him. But now, the euphoria he made you felt and the stars he made you see wasn’t enough to conceal that the scars you’ve tried so hard to hide were now bleeding. Despite all the what-ifs, you knew you had to let him go.

Lover ; Cruel Summer - If you were to tell your 10 years old self that you were secretly dating your brother’s best friend, you’d be endlessly gagging, but the summer night you said yes to be his partner was the night you sealed your fate. Loving Alhaitham was a hard thing, and your secrecy was causing a strain in your relationship. In an attempt to reconcile with him during your last summer together, you snuck out, leading to an angry confession that you were afraid he’d find someone else better when he goes away. What doesn't kill you makes you want him more, and hearing him say that he loves you was probably the worst thing you’ve ever heard.

Reputation ; Don’t Blame Me - You were a heartbreaker, but being that was the least of your worries when you were working as an assassin. Betrayal, death, and seduction; all of these were principles you’ve mastered in order for you to survive and fend for yourself. When you were transferred to a new location, least to say that you were stunned to see that your new boss was your ex. Scaramouche was taught from a young age to have pride in himself, but you were an exception to this. Shame be damned, you believed that he’d really do anything for you when he went on his knees and begged for you to stay. You became his drug, and he was ready to indulge in you for the rest of his life.

I’d Lie - Your relationship with Xiao has always been rocky. You were always the receiving end of his snarky comments and bad mood, and you had no clue why, but whatever he felt for you, you felt the opposite. It was safe to say you were smitten. Seventeen was always just a number for you, but it became so much more when you discovered that was his birthdate. Green never looked so good, not until he dyed his hair the exact color. And even though he claimed that he hated you, he had you in a tight embrace when you were at your lowest. You knew he’ll never reciprocate your feelings, so you made sure that no one knew your biggest wish was to be his. On the contrary, he couldn’t deny that what he knew what he was feeling for you wasn’t exactly hatred, but if you ever asked him if he loves you, he’d lie.

1989 ; Wonderland - Being born under a spotlight was a curse. You spent almost your whole life monitored by the public eye, and you felt suffocated because one wrong move could cause your reputation to go in shambles. Fake people came with fame, which is why when you met Heizou, you felt that you could finally let down your facade. Being with him felt like you were in wonderland every time, and while he’s a bit of a troublemaker, you could never say no when he flashes you his green eyes and cheshire cat smile. Life wasn’t the worst nor was it getting any better, but to be with him forever was a daydream you didn’t mind getting lost in.

Speak Now ; Back To December - December was a month everyone looked forward to celebrating. It encapsulates the season of giving and the celebration of Christmas. For you, December was anything but joyous, for once November weaves into the winters, you’re taken back to the time you lost your everything. Kaeya and you had your issues, whether it be with others or with yourselves, but he became a better man for you. He saw you as his pillar and a reason for growth, but you didn’t see him the same. He was ready to give you the world, but you were already planning on saying goodbye. You wished you weren’t stupid enough to let him go, for if given the chance to love again, you swore that you’d love him right.

Midnights ; Midnight Rain - Thoma had always envisioned a future that was built on the sole purpose of being yours. He was willing to risk it all for the sake of your happiness, but unbeknownst to him, your vision was the complete opposite. You were willing to sacrifice your relationship and everything that the both of you have established together just to have a name for yourself. You wish you never told him what you were thinking, for your ideology was an idea he couldn’t comprehend, and you ended up losing your love before your so-called future even started.

Fearless (TV) ; You Belong with Me - Spending almost half of your life pining after your best friend was exhausting to say the least. Childe’s an idiot, a really dense idiot, and you wonder what made you fall for him this hard. He’s also kind of an asshole for suddenly ignoring you, so right after greeting him one last happy birthday, you’ve decided to finally move on…Huh? What do you mean he’standing in front of my window holding a placard? You must be hallucinating.

Red (TV) ; Red - To love a person who has a guarded heart never ends well. You knew that Diluc was hot-headed, stubborn, and no matter how many times you tried to forget about him, he always managed to fit himself right back into your heart. To lose a person with a guarded heart is a different story, for you realize that every effort you’ve exerted to get to know them can come crashing down in a matter of seconds. But to miss your person and his guarded heart is inevitable, as memorizing him was as easy as knowing all the words to your old favorite song. It hurts to always come back to him, but he’s the only one you’ve ever learned to love.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin angst #kazuha x reader #alhaitham x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #xiao x reader #heizou x reader #kaeya x reader #thoma x reader #thoma angst #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #diluc x reader #genshin #( 🤍 ) - calxkrbd #taylor swift

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rqgnarok · 11 months

Text

dial drunk - tommy miller

fandom: the last of us (tv show and video game)

wc: 2,703

warnings: alcoholism and mentions of alcohol abuse, drunk character, maybe PTSD? pre-outbreak. no use of specific pronouns.

summary: tommy calls you in the middle of the night, hammered and asking for a favor.

inspired by noah kahan’s dial drunk. author’s note at the end.

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

Tommy knows the drill.

He’s been here enough times to recognize the officer pulling him over, asking after his wife and kids as he steps out of the truck on unsteady feet. He’s all Southern charm and pleasantries as he fails his breath test and is unable to walk in a straight line for the officer to see.

“Come on, man,” he says, aiming for placating and pretty much landing it. He’s not his mama’s favorite for nothing, getting out of trouble Joel would’ve been grounded over when he was his age with big cow eyes and flimsy excuses. “Paperwork’s shit, right? Lemme make a call and someone will take me off your hands for the night.”

The officer tightens his mouth into a grimace, unconvinced.

“Look, if this gets nowhere then I’ll ride with you nice and quiet,” he bargains with as much honesty as one can convey when being the youngest boy in a nice Catholic Texan family. There aren’t better credentials than those when pleading your innocence. “I’ll even play it up in front of your boss to make you look good, yeah? Just one call, promise.”

Hook, line, and sinker. The officer’s shoulders drop a little and he’s offering his cell phone for Tommy to call. “One call. Then you’re done.”

“Yessir.”

Tommy grins innocently as best as he can with double the legal limit of alcohol in his blood and a phone between his ear and shoulder. The man stands there with his arms crossed looking like he’d rather be anywhere but bringing his ass in for a DUI at two AM on a Wednesday.

“‘lo?” you call sleepily, finally picking up. Tommy doesn’t restrain his victorious grunt. “...Tommy?”

“Hey, sweets,” he slurs a little, clearing his throat. “Sorry for wakin’ you. I need a favor.”

“Tommy,” you say again, tired. If Tommy were any less drunk, he’d realize it’s not lack of sleep that has you sounding like that. He’s shitfaced and thinking about the monumental kick in the ass waiting for him at home when Joel realizes he hotwired and stole his truck to get a drink at the nearest bar.

“I know, I know, listen,” he cuts you off before you can say anything else, sneaking a look at the officer’s crossed arms and disappointed stance. “You remember the way to the precinct, right? From last time?”

Last time, when Tommy got into a brawl outside a bar he was not supposed to be in, and accepted your worried fussing with barely concealed annoyance, gripping your wrists and taking your hands off his bruised face. You’d driven him to your place because he’d promised Joel to steer clear of trouble for at least a few months, and his breath still reeked of alcohol by the time you came to pick him up.

You told him then you weren’t doing this again. But you always say that. And you always come when he calls.

Your moms had grown up together in Texas and were ecstatic about the fact that their two littlest ones would come into the world so close together. You and Tommy were inseparable because the universe had dictated it– and nothing could interfere between you. Not his dad dying when he and Joel were still too young, not Tommy having to repeat fifth grade and no longer sharing a classroom with you, not you going off to college and Tommy joining the army straight out of high school.

But then he came home. And he came home different.

The shit he’d seen overseas was nasty, but that’s not what drove him to drink himself stupid every night. At least that’s what he thinks. Soon his habits began seeing the light of day; vodka mixed in his morning coffee and hidden in a water bottle during lunch with the boys at the construction site. Life became a blur when he was drinking and an agonizingly slow nightmare when he wasn’t.

Joel wasn’t the first to notice but he’d been the first to say something about it. Next time you come to my home reeking of a cheap ass bar in front of my kid I’m kicking your ass out. I’m serious, Tommy. This shit has to stop.

And Tommy had believed him. So he turned to the next person he knew that would do anything for him. You came home from college despite your dreams to outrun this town, and soon it was your number he had memorized even when his brain called it quits and left him alone in his blackouts.

“I do,” you say, and Tommy’s already thinking about sleeping it off on your sorry excuse of a couch. It’s a slow night, only a couple of drunken bums sleeping off their hangovers in a quaint police station in fucking Arlington, Texas. But Tommy would take your couch any day, even if it means fucking up his back for the rest of the week. “But I’m not coming to get you, Tommy. Call Joel.”

“Sweetheart,” he croons into the phone, low and mellow like he’d talk to pretty girls at parties in high school. The same ones you’d go to only because he begged you to come with, acting like a jealous boyfriend when someone wouldn’t leave you alone. “Please. I’ll pay you back, you know I’m good for it.”

He’d put a possessive arm around your waist, standing behind you and smiling icily at whoever was pestering you. We got a problem here?

There’s silence at the other side of the line, sheets rustling. Tommy can picture you sitting up, phone to your ear, biting the inside of your cheek nervously.

More like Joel is, but hey. He took the big brother act to heart the second Tommy was born. He’s been bailing him out of shit as long as Tommy’s been alive, why would tonight be any different?

Joel, who’s always told him, first jokingly and then not so much, that you were too good for Tommy. Too smart, too kind, with too much integrity for someone like his little brother.

The older Miller had taken a liking to you pretty soon after Tommy did; wiping the dirt off scraped knees and your tears from chubby child cheeks after placing a bandaid with gentle, unsure fingers. Giving you a ride when you insisted on walking home, leaving the back door open for you whenever being home got too rough for you.

That man knew you’d be the best thing to ever happen to his brother in his entire life. Too bad the idiot didn’t realize it, pushing your limits until you couldn’t take it any longer.

“I’m not bailing you out of jail, Tommy,” you sigh, annoyance creeping over the hesitation in your tone. You were never good at saying no to him, even when you were both in diapers and Tommy wanted your dinosaur plushie so bad he threw a tantrum until his mom took him in her arms. “When I said last time was the last time, I meant it. I’m sick of this shit.”

“Come on,” he scoffs, saying your name in a way he knows you hate, like you’re the one being unreasonable. “I’ll give you a kiss and everything. You still like that, don’t you?”

“Fuck you,” you snap on the other side of the line. He knows you well enough to know what buttons to push. Reminding you of your first kiss is a trick he’s never, never pulled on you before, though. “Don’t fucking say that, don’t use that against me.”

You’d been seventeen and without a date to the prom. The guy you were thinking about asking had laughed in your face when you offhandedly mentioned going together and Tommy had refused to let you sulk alone. He’d climbed into your room through your window and wrapped his arm around you the second your lip wobbled, tears wetting your cheeks.

Tell me who I have to kill, he’d said before you ever told him what was wrong. He’s always been like that, hot-headed and protective, especially when it comes to you. Willing to fight anyone who’s ever slightly wronged you but not realizing when he’s done it himself.

You laughed into his shirt, snotty and miserable as he tightened his grip around you. Come on, sweets, fuck that guy. Like he’s even good enough for you.

You confessed with a burning embarrassment how you’d seen yourself kissing him– more out of the need to get your first kiss over with than actual want– and Tommy’s face had gone through a bunch of complicated emotions before settling on something sweet, shy, resolute. He’d thumbed at your chin thoughtfully, fingers just barely brushing over your bottom lip.

Tommy had his first kiss when he was thirteen with Amy Hill behind the church his mother dragged them to every Sunday morning, but you’d never seen him that nervous. He failed to look into your eyes as he stuttered out his suggestion. If you wanna get it out of the way then maybe– I don’t know. Why not do it with someone who actually cares about you?

You’d looked at him in scrutiny as if you’d never taken a good look at him before. He self-consciously thought about his fair skin and his freckles, if his hair was still a mess from football practice, and if his breath smelled somewhat okay after having that sandwich for lunch.

You offerin’, Miller?

Yeah, he’d said instead of something stupid like haven’t you heard? I’m a catch. He murmured bashfully, finally meeting your eyes. Yeah, sweets, I guess I am.

He’d licked his lips and drew a path with his fingers from your temple to behind your ear before cupping the side of your jaw, breath hot. Just– punch me in the face or something if you don’t want to.

You hadn’t. He’d closed the gap between you and you kissed him back slowly, hesitantly, diving back in again after he drew away. He was too short of breath for a chaste kiss that had lasted a couple of seconds, and the second time around his tongue flickered past his lips. Your hands on his shirt tightened in response, a helpless sound leaving your mouth that neither of you had been expecting.

He hadn’t known about your crush then. Maybe that’s when it first started, some Tuesday night with a kiss in your childhood bedroom, but Tommy doesn’t remember ever becoming aware of it. He just knew, suddenly, and enough things had happened in the in-between from then to now for him to consider using it against you.

His drunken brain thinks differently, though.

“Don’t be like that, sweets,” the nickname had never bothered you before, born out of Tommy watching too many old movies one night the babysitter failed to show up and Joel fell asleep on the couch. You’d never questioned him when he started calling you that, probably liking it a little too much for it to be a friendly thing between you. “You can act all high and mighty next time, alright? Just come pick me up before Joel realizes he ain’t got a ride for work tomorrow mornin’.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you curse vehemently. You haven’t been to church in the years you’ve been back from college, much to your mama’s dismay. “You know what? Whatever. That’s Joel’s problem now, not mine. Call him.”

“I’m asking you for a favor,” he says through gritted teeth, suddenly irritated. His characteristic charm is gone just like that. “Why are you being so fucking difficult?”

“I’m done watching you wreck your life, Tommy,” you say with finality. He scoffs pettily. “I’m not picking up again, tonight or ever. Call Joel.”

A click. Then nothing.

He says your name and the dial tone laughs back at him. And Tommy–

Tommy can’t actually believe it. He takes the phone off his ear and stares at it, dumbfounded, like looking at it long enough will get you back on the line.

He hears the officer blow air out his mouth and the evening suddenly comes into sharpening clearness; the cold November air biting at his face, the taste of whiskey in his mouth. His hands are sweating from where he’s gripping his phone, the tag of his jacket is rubbing uncomfortably against the back of his neck.

You’ve never hung up on him before.

“That it?” the officer asks with the lack of patience that’s characteristic of the night shift.

“I– what? No, no,” he shakes his head, already dialing again. “Just– just give me a second.”

“Night ain’t young, man,” he grumbles, already reaching for his cuffs. Tommy takes a step back, suddenly out of his depth. “One call. Time’s up.”

“I’ll– I’ll go okay? I’ll go, just let me– let me call again,” the trembling of his fingers has nothing to do with his current state– Tommy feels like every single drop of alcohol has vaporized from his blood and now he’s left cold and in trouble and alone.

Fuck. Fuck, you’d never hung up on him before.

He calls again, once, twice, before the officer finally loses his patience. “Alright, kid. Whoever you’re callin’ they don’t wanna answer. You can have your one phone call at the precinct. Get someone else, though, huh?”

Tommy doesn’t want to. Tommy shouldn’t have to, a sudden rush of self-righteous anger washing over him with enough force to gridlock his entire body with tension. His jaw tightens and teeth grind together, his shoulders straighten into a taunt, painful line, holding onto the phone so tightly it shakes, the shapes of it making indentations on his skin.

How dare you? How fucking dare you? Friends since fucking birth, does that mean nothing to you? Now you’re throwing him away like a fucking dirty rag?

Call Joel, you had said, and Joel is enough of an asshole to keep Tommy in the can overnight to teach him a lesson, but you? You two have always looked out for each other, this isn’t how it’s supposed to go–

“I don’t have all night, buddy,” the officer gets his hands on him to take back his phone and beckon him to the car. Tommy flails as an automatic response, fighting back against the unwanted touch. But whether he feels like it or not he’s still drunk and in the blink of an eye he’s got his face against the hood of a police car, red and blue lights hurting his eyes, and a tight hand around the back of his neck keeping him somewhat still.

The officer mumbles something about Tommy causing more trouble than he’s worth and ain’t that a popular opinion tonight? “You’re gonna cause yourself any more trouble, son?”

Tommy snorts. Son, like the guy’s not just a couple of years older than him. He’s pretty sure they crossed paths once or a hundred times back in high school.

The ride to the precinct is as uncomfortable as it gets. The heat in the car isn’t working so Tommy’s freezing his ass off in the back of the car, handcuffs digging into his wrists. His nose is bleeding all over his clothes, and hurting like a bitch where the officer had to punch him when Tommy’s fight response wouldn’t quit.

And you, in the back of his mind. He pictures you asleep after his little interruption and his anger is enough of a fire inside of him to drown out the disbelief, the blatant hurt that threatens to kill him more than his broken nose does.

He’ll pop the thing back into place later in the cell but this? You? As the hours pass by and clarity regains its home in his awareness, he doesn’t see a way around this. A scenario in which he calls again and you listen, where you talk to him and he doesn’t feel like you kicked him to the curb over fucking nothing. A few drinks. A favor. Best friends, his ass.

He’ll keep calling, though. Even if he has to spend the night in jail because you don’t pick up. He’ll dial drunk until he dies, just for you.

______

tommy u silly little goose

since noah’s album came out last week i’ve had this song on repeat and i desperately wanted to write a fic about it. idk why my mind instantly went to tommy. i’m thinking of a post-outbreak sequel but i won’t confirm anything until it’s actually in the works.

thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it! the lack of tommy fics is astounding to me, especially since gabriel luna is one of the most beautiful and talented men i’ve ever seen.

reminder that commissions are open and support is always appreciated!

#tommy miller #gabriel luna #the last of us #tlou #tlou fic #reader insert #leo writes #tommy x reader #tommy miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal

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domoz · 2 months

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Hmmm okay prompt: premise: people can, once in their lifetime, basically will the universe into granting whatever is their soulmate's greatest wish at the time they do this. Shinobi will usually save this to use as a get out of death free card (which USUALLY works, because "survive" is a pretty strong impulse when you're about to die, but not always), riches are common, as are the deaths of abusive bosses/parents/etc.

...we all know what Tobirama's greatest wish has nothing to do with being alive himself. So now they're about to die AND have to deal with Kawarama and Itama (plus or minus Hashirama depending on when you set it) who have no idea what's going on.

Oh Youve Done It Now

It's been years since Tobirama has felt this chakra. Longer still since it's been turned towards healing him.

Even with it, his whole body aches. Exhaustion piled upon exhaustion, and he'd lost track of his injuries very early into the fight. He knows only that it hurts to breathe, yet his body stubbornly continues to do it despite each inhale rattling inside of him.

He must be dying, he thinks. His mind has conjured up some fantasy to comfort him as his life fades.

"I know you're awake, otouto." Hashirama's voice, in the same tone he'd use when one of his experiments was particularly troublesome -- exasperated, but ultimately unable to hide his worry. "I'd really like an explanation."

"I think I might have one." That voice would be Hikaku's, who should not be anywhere near here, and so the one whose presence only cements this as a strange dream. "Your brother, even on the verge of death, has only ever wished for one thing."

Silence stretches, the whole world is silent and muffled except for the sense-memory of sunlight through trees as Hashirama's chakra knits together bones.

A sigh. "He did warn me. Though I suppose this did work, in its own way."

"Wait, Hikaku-san, you--"

"But you're an Uchiha!" A voice Tobirama hasn't heard in many, many years shouts. It's enough to have him forcing his heavy eyelids open -- even if it's not real, he needs to see--

Hashirama is leaning over him, curtain of hair blocking out most everything else as he heals the crater that Tobirama's chest has become. He looks younger than he did when he died, though not overly so; a snapshot from those few years when he'd gained laugh lines but not yet stress wrinkles around his eyes.

"Don't sit up." He warns, his voice is stern, but there's something fragile in his eyes, "And don't infuse chakra, or I'll knock you out again."

He wouldn't even have to make good on the threat; Tobirama would probably lose consciousness for even trying.

"'nija." He says. Is all he can make himself say between the pain and the tightness of his throat. Hashirama smiles tightly and leans back -- enough for the two figures taking refuge behind him to lean around and look at him with wide eyes.

"Wow, aniki. You got old. What happened to your face?" Kawarama.

Whether he's referring to the red slashes that Tobirama had only made after his death or one of his other injuries, he doesn't know. It doesn't matter, really.

Tobirama's eyes burn. His instinct is to look away, to hide his face, but he doesn't dare.

"That's mean, nii-san. He's hurt." Itama is grabbing onto Hashirama's robe with one white knuckled fist and Kawarama's wrist with the other. The two of them are the same age that they were when they died, the same way that they've been frozen in Tobirama's memories. Kawarama was born first, but brought back like this, Itama has a year and a few centimeters of height on him.

Kawarama makes a disapproving noise -- his eyebrows are furrowed like they did when he was worried and trying not to let it show. He glances obviously to the side, scowls at what he sees, then puffs out his cheeks and steps out of Hashirama's shadow. He doesn't go far -- only to get close enough to sit by Tobirama's head and tug at his hair -- but Itama lets himself be dragged behind and releases his grip on Hashirama to pick up his hand instead.

I missed you. He wants to say. I missed you, I'm sorry, I missed you. He knows better than to leave things unsaid, sucks in a breath to try, and it's agony. Blood stains his teeth; his vision greys and Hashirama is saying something that runs through his ears without registering. His chakra swells until Tobirama can taste it on the back of his tongue, until it drowns out the pain behind its own presence.

He loses time. Kawarama is petting at his hair now, and Itama is mapping the scars on his hands, but both of them refuse to settle, eyes flicking up to watch some threat. Tobirama is in no state to defend them if they should need it, but he forces himself to move despite the pounding weight of his head and look.

They are, he belatedly realizes, in a dome of mokuton vines, and sitting against the far wall, hands visible on his knees, is Hikaku. And he knows why his brothers would be wary of him, but after all these years Tobirama can't see him in that light any longer.

The Uchiha smiles wryly.

"I followed as soon as I heard where you were headed." He says. "No point in having a wish that never gets used."

"So you really are soulmates." Kawarama grumbles. And Tobirama wants -- he wants to promise Kawarama that Hikaku won't hurt him. That no harm will ever come to him again. But with a slow, choking panic, he realizes that he does not even have the strength to turn his head and see him again. He squeezes Itama's hand instead, fingers trembling.

"We're at peace now!" Hashirama says, leaning back from where he was holding his hands over Tobirama's chest to wipe at his brow. Tobirama can see a sunny smile in the corner of his eye. "Just like we used to talk about."

"...Uhm." Itama says after a beat. "If we're at peace, then who were those guys you were fighting?"

"Aah, that's, well--" Hashirama glances at Tobirama first, and then remembering that he's in no state to speak turns to Hikaku instead.

The Uchiha sighs, with that slight twist of a smile that means he thinks something is ridiculous but he won't say it.

"That was supposedly one of Kumo's best squads. Your death was enough of a perceived weakness that Suna started making aggressive action to claim more land. Kumo and Iwa started targeting our shinobi shortly afterwards…"

It's a basic summary of the political situation that Tobirama has been living with for years now, and he tunes it out without quite meaning to.

All of his most important people are here, are with him. It's a nice enough sentiment to die to.

It's dark.

Tobirama feels like he's withered dry and might crack apart into dust if he so much as moves a muscle. The pain of breathing isn't agony, anymore, at least. More an aching pulse that rises and ebbs with each breath.

He's horribly disoriented for a long moment --truly dead, now? -- he's lying down, something soft placed over a hard uneven surface, there are two tiny motes of warmth curled up on either side of him, and there's a conversation going on above his head. That's probably what woke him.

"I should have known he wasn't over his prejudice against your clan." Hashirama sighs, "I'm sorry--"

"I'm not going to pretend he's our greatest ally, but I don't think you would have been able to do much better." Hikaku cuts him off sharply. Having lived past the age that Hashirama was when he died, he has apparently decided to abandon the deferential respect that he used to have. "I'm certain he would love to let us fight -- keeping them back is my choice. The countries we are at war with have no laws against eye theft. They have bounties for each bloodline they can take, and ours is the highest."

Tobirama blinks, but there is no moonlight for him to see by. They'd tried to make it work. Barbaric as the Hyuga seal is, it is useful; but no matter the modifications Tobirama makes to it, Hikaku cannot get his clan to agree to use it, and without it his clan members are all targets too tempting for their enemies to leave alone. But why is he telling Hashirama this…?

"We have as much sway as any other clan in the council. You are the one who named your own brother as a successor, and got half of my clan convinced they needed more power or risk being destroyed."

Hence the military police plan, and Tobirama isn't certain it will help much. If the Uchiha can't fight on behalf of the village, fighting within it is about the only thing left for them to do -- he figured he might as well at least make it productive.

"You know," Hikaku continues, voice flat, "There was a faction of my clan that wanted to follow in Madara's footsteps. We're all trying our best, Shodai-sama."

There was a plan to assassinate him, which Hikaku dealt with before it could become public. Tobirama is thankful for that, but it has left his soulmate deeply unpopular within his clan.

This feels like a very strange way to have one's life flash before their eyes.

"I… see. I apologize. I'll speak with Tobirama before making any more assumptions." Hashirama says, clearly cowed. There is a long moment of silence, then, "…Do you truly call him by his title? When the two of you are soulmates?"

"He refuses to ruin what little authority I have over my clan by acknowledging it publicly." Hikaku's tone is harsh, now, though if he has an issue with that he's never brought it to Tobirama's attention.

A moot effort now, Tobirama thinks muzzily. Hikaku might be thinking that too, from the way he sighs.

"Tend to your brother, Shodai-sama. I'll keep watch."

The wave of chakra his brother sends over him sends Tobirama into a darkness of a different kind.

When he awakens again he's horribly nauseous. The weightlessness of open air alternates with a dull shock that sends a jolting ache through his body every time it happens. It's manageable; Tobirama could fight through this, if he had to.

But he won't have to. Hashirama has him, one arm secure under his knees, the other his neck, holding him tight to his chest to try and mitigate the impact of each jump.

He's moving much slower than he should be, if his goal is to get an injured person to safety.

Tobirama peels his eyes open, squinting in the wind as the treetops whip past overhead. He has enough strength in him now that he can reach up and grab at the front of his robe, though he grunts from the effort.

"Anija." He rasps. There was still so much left unsaid between them at the end. Enough that Tobirama doesn't even know where to start, aside from the obvious, "I'm--"

"Oh Tobi, good! Hashirama doesn't even seem aware that he's cut anything off. "He's awake!" He announces over this shoulder, and drops from the trees to the ground, landing with a thump. Hashirama is obviously trying to muffle the impact, but it makes him twitch and hiss in pain regardless.

He's healed enough now that when Hashirama goes to set him down against a tree trunk he can keep himself upright, but not without his arms shaking from the effort.

"We still really shouldn't be moving you." His brother comments idly as he sends a light pulse of diagnostic chakra through his system, "I really wish we'd been able to use a stretcher. And you're going to take forever to recover your chakra after how much I had to dump into you. But if you actually rest when we get home, you should end up alright."

His hands flutter around until he finds a water skin -- Uchiha mon stamped on, so it must actually be Hikaku's -- and shoves it in Tobirama's face. He's able to get a grip on it enough to hold it himself -- the water is stale but the he relief of it sharp, settling over him like a blanket.

"Hikaku-san went ahead to alert everyone as soon as we got into safe territory." Hashirama chatters on, "There should be a patrol coming to meet us. You really had us worried there for a minute!"

As he talks, Tobirama's eyes don't move from the two figures that have landed behind Hashirama and are peering over his shoulders.

"Seriously." Kawarama says, "I don't think you've ever slept that long."

"I--" Tobirama chokes out, "I haven't died, have I?"

"No." Itama says, eyebrows knitted together.

"You'd better not have." Kawarama echoes with a scowl

"You're the only one here who hasn't!" Hashirama smiles, like he's made a joke, but it slips right back off his face at whatever he sees when he meets Tobirama's eyes.

"Oh, Tobi…" He says sorrowfully, but Itama beats him to whatever he's planning on doing, darting around Hashirama and carefully but forcefully wrapping his arms around Tobirama's neck. Not to be outdone, Kawarama squawks and secures a hold around one of his shoulders.

Tobirama's eyes burn, and he buries his face into a bony shoulder, so he's not able to see when Hashirama moves to pull all of them into his arms. He's lived long enough that the grief of their deaths had scarred over, but this has ripped the wound gaping open wide.

"It must have been lonely." Itama says, voice muffled in Tobirama's fur.

"We're here now though." Kawarama insists. His voice wavers so he buries his face in fur, too.

“Yeah.” Hashirama agrees, chin resting on top of Tobirama’s head. “We’re all here, now.”

#oops! no writing tag #naruto blog for naruto things #ending this here before I get SO out of hand.#but u already know theres so much i want to explore in this au now

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vapolis · 5 months

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romance options.

intro post. demo.

your boss and the owner of the Saints & Sinners. Orla has worked hard for everything she has but has lost a lot along the way as well. it's hard for her to trust and even harder to rely on someone but she's been keeping you around long enough for something close to a relationship to develope. as one of the power players of the city, she has gained influence by allowing both the high society and less respected citizens of Vapolis to enter her club in search of secrets she can use for her own gain.

Orla's high stress job has lead her to an attachment to cigarettes she always keeps as close as her signature stiletto knife in case trouble does slip past her tight security.

appearance: 1.82m tall, curvy, black woman aged 40 with close cropped hair. she has dark brown eyes, a heart-shaped face and wings tattooed across her back. a thin scar runs through the corner of her mouth, only visible from up close and she's rarely not dressed to the nines in gowns, feathers and glitter. anything that makes her stand out as the owner of her beloved club.

[ orla playlist. ]

the right hand man of Orla and member of Mirage. Jax has been around for as long as you remember, leading the day to day in the club and taking care of any trouble by the door as one of the bouncers on rotation. he's not afraid to get his hands dirty for the club or Orla but has always met the same devotation in you with scorn.

Jax has a weakness for fast cars and shiny guns and has trouble tunring down a bet.

appearance: 34 years old, 1.94m tall, muscular man with brown skin and blue dyed hair that falls in waves to just below his jaw. Jax has dark brown eyes, thick eyebrows and a square jaw that's usually full of stubble he never shaves. both of his arms are tattooed, with one of them depicting the signature eye of the gang he's part of. his style is a point of pride for him and he's never not dressed up in vests or suits when you're around. the colors are rather dark but never plain.

[ jax playlist. ]

the bartender of the Saints & Sinners and an occasional hacker. their job has them around the high powered of Vapolis more often than not and since knowledge is power -- something Orla has relentlessly drilled into the heads of all her employees -- it makes Royal someone that knows a lot they shouldn't. their loyalty runs as far as their tattoos are deep but as long as they're heard and taken care of, they don't care much for the games Orla and others play to stay relevant. as a native to Vapolis they're used to the fronts people put on to survive but never got a taste for the violence of the city.

Royal is a massive flirt and has trouble toning it down when it really matters.

appearance: of average height at 1.74m with pale skin and an orange mullet. they are quite muscular, with a softer belly and most of their strength lying in their arms from their job. they are 25 years old and have eyes that are blue. they have a septum piercing as well as both ears fully pierced. there's a faded scar running from the corner of their lip to midway of their cheek they never talk about as well as a dark tattoo spanning their throat. their style is quite modern and revealing with colorful make up looks they change up every now and then. when they smile, they have a dimple in each cheek.

[ royal playlist. ]

the new dancer that has caught not only the eye of Orla. they are a bit of a mystery and a fairly recent addition to the dancers lineup in the club but seem well liked regardless with their easy going attitude and easy charm. Dante/Delilah seems to be someone that knows how to keep a secret if it's Orla of all people that keeps them closer than the others but you recognize their bruised knuckles and barely healed split lip from a mile away as someone just as much in it for the thrill.

appearance: they are slightly above average in height with 1.78m and have an athletic build as most dancers do in the club. their hands are calloused and rough which is unlike the line of work they're in. they have olive skin and dark purple wavy hair with white streaks at the front they wear shorter than the back. it never gets longer than to their jaw before a new cut. they have hooded eyes and one of them is a dark brown that's almost black while the other is a dull silver. their style is quite practical and muted in colors outside of what every dancer wears in the club.

[ dante/delilah playlist. ]

as the weapons dealer of your choice, echo has been around fairly long and counts amongst the few people you trust with more than just your credits when it comes to outlandish ideas on new weapons you might or might not end up needing. their shop has become somewhat of a safe haven when times got rough or you simply needed a place to duck into to avoid the heat of a job gone wrong. that is, until you ended up blowing up half their shop. since then things have been a bit more tense than usual but doing a job or two or twelve for them could land you back in their good graces.

appearance: echo is above average in height and has tan skin. their nose has a noticeable bump in the middle and they have a fuller bottom lip. their brows are bleached and they have snake bites as well as an uneven scar that goes from their jaw to just below their eye. their eyes are dark purple and their hair shaved at the sides and longer at the top. their hair texture is curly but due to bleach it's heavily damaged and changes color often. their chest and back as well as both arms up to the knuckles are tattooed. both of their ears are pierced, however on the left side they wear a lone earring that dangles down to their throat. they tend to have some stubble across their cheeks. and one of their legs is a prosthetic in silver. their style is oftentimes relaxed, but put together.

#remember you will die #rywd #**characters #**playlists #c: jax #c: royal #c: dante/delilah #c: orla #**descriptions #bc ppl asked <3 #**mine

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burnt-out-vacationer · 5 months

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[REBLOGS > likes]

hi guys !! have some mafia boss x right hand man almodnfort au content or something . a bit dialogue heavy until around the 700 word mark since this was originally just a little writing practice,,,

context for this one since its a doozy. but roguefort (famous criminal known for going solo) gets injured and almond (mafia boss) saves them from dying and in return they stick around him in an effort to repay how kind he was to them and then they got attached. btw i know nothing about the mafia i just had a burst of energy <3

reminder roguefort uses they/them !!

[1686 words]

"You're up late, aren't you?"

"Customary for people with our worklife, isn't it?"

"I suppose." Almond paused. "If you don't mind my bothering you, I've been... thinking recently."

"That's dangerous."

"Not as dangerous as some of our other escapades."

"Right as always." Roguefort turned to look at him, their normally intimidating features softened by the glow of the moon. "May I hear what's on your mind?"

"You've been here quite a while, haven't you? Two, three months?"

"You've been keeping track."

"Of course. And it's left me wondering... you haven't brought up leaving to go on your own again."

He was met with silence - not deafening silence, more of a thoughtful quiet, leaving him to keep on going.

"You're a solo act. Or, you were a solo act, before I offered you a place here. It's left me pondering whether or not you think I'm keeping you here."

"I don't," they interjected quickly, shaking their head. "I've never felt so."

"Good to hear. But, look, if you did, I was going to offer you the chance to leave."

More silence.

"Personally, I think you've repaid me in full," he continued, going over to stand by them. "You have no need to stick around anymore, if you don't want to. I will admit, I've gotten used to having you around, and it will feel... emptier without you, but you had your life before I came along. You will always have a place here, and an ally in me - you may come back whenever you please, and you will have my full protection."

Still nothing. Just a quiet intake of breath, one he might have missed had he not been so close to them before they finally spoke.

"No."

"...No?"

"No. I won't leave. I may not need to stick around, but I'd certainly love to." They finally met his gaze and smiled, their eyes crinkling adorably around the edges in a way that made his heart soften. "It's an unforgiving world out there. But... you make it seem less scary."

"That's what I do. It's what I've always done. Nearly everyone here has been scorned by the world that claimed to love them - I just gave them what they had wanted, what they had a right to."

"Which is?"

"Love. The feeling of home. The full trust of someone else, knowing they would always be there for you."

They chuckled. "You really are a mom at heart."

"Shut up."

"...Really, it's amazing, what you do. Sure, maybe everyone out there would disagree." They jabbed a thumb towards the window, towards the city outside. "But I think it's beautiful."

"Beautiful, huh?"

"Of course. I wouldn't stay if I didn't think so."

A small smile crossed his lips. "I can think of other things that are just as beautiful."

"Can you, now?"

"Personally, I've always been fond of solo acts."

They ducked their head at this, in a way that was endearingly shy, before looking up with something new in their eyes. "Call me crazy, but I think I prefer duets to solo acts."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He reached up and brushed a lock of their hair back, fingers lingering in a way that made their cheeks go a little pink, he noticed. "Are you suggesting an audition to be in a duet with you?"

"Perhaps I am. Perhaps the audition was ages ago, and you passed from the very start."

"So what does that mean for us?"

"It means I'm fond of you."

"Are you, now?"

They leaned down so that they were at eye level with him - when had they gotten so close? "I feel very strongly for you. That should be made clear."

"...I see."

"And you, Almond? What do you feel?"

His name had never sounded so sweet before.

"I feel as if we've been wasting too much time talking."

They grinned, looking so delighted that it was just impossible for him not to grin back. "I would agree. Why don't you show me what you would rather have us do?"

“Well, aren’t you bold?”

“I would have thought you already knew that about me. Solo act and all that.”

He liked the way they spoke to him now. As if they were his close friend, someone who could look after him the same way he looked after them.

“I’d recommend you drop the solo act. I can see it no longer fits you.”

“You’re awfully interested in a chance to duet with me,” Roguefort said, with a teasing lilt to their voice that just about stole his breath.

He hadn’t known they could be, well… playful.

The walls of formality and politeness between them seemed to fully crumble down, leaving behind the aura of what was once a business transaction.

Now, it was… something else. Something better. Almond could feel it, an unfamiliar sensation all the way to his core, yet welcome in a comforting way.

And he could tell they felt it, too.

“Who wouldn’t be?” he said softly, in a tone unlike any he’d used before with them. “I’ve never been more interested in anything before.”

“...Never?” they said, their eyes growing a little wider. “Never.”

“Oh,” they murmured, barely a whisper in the night. “Oh.”

Oh, their voice. So breathlessly hopeful, like they couldn’t dare to believe what he was saying. Like what he was offering was too far out of reach.

That was all about to change.

Slowly, he trailed a hand over their wrist - causing their breathing to hitch in a way that made his head spin - up their arm, brushing past their shoulder, before cupping his fingers around the back of their neck.

They swallowed and glanced down at him as he brought his other hand up, too, linking his fingers together. “You aren’t about to choke me, are you?”

That got a laugh out of him, which eased the tension in Roguefort’s shoulders. “Oh, never. I don’t think I’m strong enough to, anyway.”

An admission like that would be a death sentence if he were in unfamiliar clutches.

In front of them, though, it felt like a relief to say.

“I would hope you don’t find a reason to have to choke me anytime soon,” they chuckled, letting their hands drift over his waist, promptly causing his mind to blank. “I don’t want to give you any reasons to.”

“I… I could never hurt you,” Almond said quietly, slowly bringing their head down to his level. “I’m a healer at heart.”

“I love that about you.”

Could they get any more perfect?

“How long have you loved that about me?” he whispered, heart pounding relentlessly in his chest as their nose brushed against his own.

They thought for a moment, lip caught between their teeth in what was an undeniably cute expression of concentration, before finally saying, “I think I’ve loved it all this time.”

A smile broke out onto Almond’s face, bright and giddy. “You sure?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I weren’t.”

“Just clarifying,” he said, pulling them a little closer, just so he could feel their breath on his lips.

It smelled like strawberries.

Roguefort had gone quiet, licking their lips in what seemed to be nervousness. Was that truly what was happening? Were they just as terrified of screwing this up as he was? Were-

His thoughts were interrupted when they exhaled softly, and he looked up into their eyes. “There’s no easy way to ask this, but…”

“I’ve got time,” he said. “I’ll always have time for you.”

They smiled, their expression so unguarded that he felt himself melting. “Then, may I…?”

He knew what they were asking.

And they hadn’t even finished their sentence before Almond pulled them in, eagerly pressing his lips to theirs.

It was so sudden that it caused them to make a startled sound in their throat, which was somehow adorable, before they reciprocated so enthusiastically that it swept him off of his feet.

Roguefort was surprisingly gentle with him - or at least, they were at first, as if they were a little shy to truly lose themself in it. But it wasn’t long before they had become more comfortable, deepening the kiss and pulling him close so that they were pressed against each other, making Almond’s entire body shiver with need.

His hands went to cup their face, thumb stroking their cheek, which elicited a soft noise of surprise and only led them to kiss him harder, making him go dizzy with delight.

He was already cataloging this moment in his head, memorizing the tilt of their head as they kissed him, the warmth of their hands gliding over his waist, the way their eyelashes fluttered over his, the strawberry sweet taste of their lip balm.

The way they felt like home to him.

And yet, all too soon, it was over, and they parted with matching wide-eyed expressions of wonder.

His eyes flicked over their features, and he felt a little twinge of pleasure when he saw how red they were in the face. Like they’d been giving their entire heart and soul in that kiss.

Almond blinked and suddenly realized in that moment just how hard he was breathing, and how weak his knees felt - oh, lord, were they holding him up? How had they managed to get him trembling like this within moments?

How had he never met someone like them before?

“So,” Roguefort said quietly, with a look in their eyes that conveyed how greatly they’d enjoyed that. “I suppose a duet can be arranged.”

He let out a breathless laugh, before leaning into them and wrapping his arms around their middle. “Good god, you…”

“I’ve got you,” they said softly, making his heart flutter. “I’m here.”

“I know. I’m here, too.”

“Almond?”

“Mm?”

“I’ll always be here. For you.”

He smiled into their shirt, closing his eyes and listening to the rhythmic thump of their heart, almost in time to his own heartbeat. “Thank you.”

It was all he could say, but it was enough. He knew they understood what he felt.

He knew they understood just how much he loved them.

#writing

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misslavenderlady · 9 months

Text

Love at First Bite 💞

David/Female!OC & Male!OC/Female!OC

Summary: David and the Lost Boys always have their eyes out for new brides to claim. However, when the vampire queen becomes smitten with a sweet redheaded boy, it may lead to the first time a groom is added to the coven.

This was inspired by @ghoulgeousimmaculate and her characters from the series Party the Pain Away and the various fics that take place afterwards. Ghoulie and I discussed the possibility of having another boy join the coven after so many girls were brought in. So everyone meet the new kid on the block! We hope you like him as much as Sis does~

WARNINGS: Fic contains mentions of fear, emotional manipulation, power dynamics, toxic relationship dynamics, PDA, mentions of blood/murder and alcohol. This has references to Ghoulie's stuff, and takes place in the modern world, not 1987. Part 2 HERE credit to hellobeautiful.com and artmoda.by for the pics of Daniil Kalinin and Chloe Bailey for face claims of Oliver and Sis.

Oliver was no stranger to working hard. From a very early age, his father taught him the values of an honest day's work and the appreciation of those who took on the most challenging jobs. Things like sanitation, customer service and food preparation were to be respected, as they were thankless jobs with poor compensation.

He kept this in mind as he got settled into his new job after moving to Santa Carla. Not too many places were hiring as much due to the tourist season dying down for the year, but he was able to get hired at a local Italian restaurant. According to the manager, they had recently lost a waitress and needed to fill the position as soon as possible.

After seeing the ins and outs of the restaurant himself, Oliver could see why it had a lot of business, even after the summer rush. It was a gorgeous place, and he was quite impressed with the quality of the food. Putting on the server uniform made him feel quite proud of the work he was going to do.

His first few shifts went well. Oliver got settled in with lunch services and was sure to always work with a smile and a positive attitude. The customers enjoyed his friendliness and dedication to making sure their meal was perfect. Even if he was still very green, he had plenty of potential.

That's why his boss made him a very particular offer.

"Hey, Oliver," the middle-aged owner said to him. "Now that you're getting more comfortable, I'd like to get you set up for a dinner shift. We could really use the help during that time."

"Oh yeah! No problem!" the redheaded boy agreed. Little did he know that around the corner, his fellow servers were looking at one another with a shared sense of nervousness. Oliver had no idea he was getting into.

The night shift brought quite a lot more customers to the restaurant. Oliver was working twice as hard as before to make sure everyone had full drinks and hot plates of food in a timely manner. He wasn't perfect by any means, but his hard work and dedication was clear to everyone.

He was so focused on putting orders into the POS system that he didn't notice a new couple being welcomed in by his boss.

"Saluti signore e signora! Your usual table is all set up. Right this way!"

By the time Oliver turned back around to see who had walked in, they were already out of sight.

"I'm not taking their table. You go take it."

"Fuck you! I took them last time! You do it!"

Oliver couldn't help but overhear two waitresses bickering quietly off to the side. They had been more casual around other tables during all the other shifts they worked together. It was a surprise to see them so adamant about not serving the couple that had walked in.

He'd dealt with his fair share of nasty customers in past jobs. There was one elderly woman at a cashiering job that had threatened to beat him senseless with her cane over an expired coupon. If he could handle that, he could handle anything.

"I can take their table!"

The two girls turned toward him, looks of shock plastered on their faces.

"Really? You WANT to take them?"

"Yeah! It's no big deal, really."

They didn't look entirely convinced, but they were still appreciative of Oliver's offer to take the burden off of them. They handed him a pair of menus and silverware before each giving him a soft smile.

"Your funeral, bud."

Oliver played it off as a harmless joke, snickering playfully as he headed off to the new table. Little did he know how serious his coworkers were with such a warning.

He'd never served anyone in the space behind the curtain before. He didn't know what to expect when he pushed the black velvet fabric to the side in order to step forward. When he got a good look at one of the diners, he nearly dropped all the items he had in hand.

Sitting pretty in the booth across from the entrance was the most stunning woman that Oliver had ever laid eyes on. Her beauty was enhanced by her long locs, brown eyes, flawless makeup, plush lips, and glowing skin illuminated by the candles.

Oliver could practically feel his jaw hanging open at the sight of the mystery woman. If her looks hadn't caught his eye, then the bold dress she wore certainly did. There was barely any fabric on the top half, just mere straps crossing over her curvy figure.

If he wasn't careful, he'd start chubbing up before he could even take her order. That would be embarrassing enough if it were just her. But there was also a tall, blond, and handsome gentleman cozied up next to her. Clearly her date.

Oliver was just grateful for the thick fabric of the apron and his notebook covering up the area.

He finally mustered up enough courage to step to the front of their table. When the lady looked up at him, her eyes shimmered. It was as if she were admiring some kind of precious gem or a beautiful flower. Still, Oliver wasn't confident enough to believe she was as amazed by him as he was to her.

"Good evening!" he greeted the two. "My name is restaurant, welcome to the Oliver."

Immediately, the boy's skin flushed to a deep shade of red when he realized he got his line backwards. He slapped a hand over his mouth in embarrassment, wishing he hadn't screwed up like that.

"I-I mean…my name is OLIVER. Welcome to the RESTAURANT. I cannot believe I did that…"

"Aww, you nervous, sweetheart?" the woman cooed, clearly amused. "This your first night? I haven't seen you around here~"

Her voice was as warm and sweet as fresh honey. The sound alone made it feel like his heart was pumping faster and faster and his blood growing hotter with every moment.

"Well…kinda," he admitted, smiling sheepishly. "It's my first dinner shift. I've been working lunches for a couple of weeks now."

The lady nodded, seemingly understanding of his situation. While she was warm and welcoming, her date seemed to be cold as ice. His frosty blue eyes were staring directly at Oliver, scanning over him carefully. It was like he was trying to figure out his entire personality with just a look.

It really put him on edge. Oliver wouldn't lie to himself about that.

"Well congratulations! You picked the best place in town to work!" she smiled. "We're regulars here! You'll be seeing us quite a bit. My name's Sis!"

She held out her perfectly manicured hand to the boy, happy to introduce herself. Oliver smiled right back as he slipped his hand against hers. He was a bit surprised to find it chilled to the touch, but not to a point of discomfort. After all, with hands as soft as hers, nothing about the experience was unpleasant.

After a good shake, the two let go. Not even a second after she released his hand did her date push his own hand in, grabbing hold of Oliver. The man had a much stronger grip, squeezing the fresh rather tightly as he shook.

"I'm David. Her husband."

Oliver felt his stomach drop as if he were riding on the world's steepest roller coaster. This wasn't some random date. This was a man she was in a committed relationship with.

"Oh my God, stop drooling over a married woman, you idiot. Dad raised you better than this!" Oliver scolded himself inside his head.

"Well, it's really nice to meet you! B-Both of you!"

David seemed to tone down his icy demeanor, giving Oliver a slick smile as he leaned back against the fabric of the booth. He tugged his wife to his chest, letting her cuddle up to him. Even with their intimate embrace, she still watched Oliver with big doe eyes.

"So! What can I get you started off with for drinks?"

Sis opened her mouth to speak, but wasn't able to get a word out. David deprived her of that.

"Bottle of Pinot Noir for the two of us to share. Red is the best. Right, doll?"

To Oliver's surprise, Sis didn't look happy with that choice. Her lips were stuck in a pout and she was looking down at her lap in disappointment.

"David, I've told you a thousand times, I don't like red wine. I want Chardonnay!" she whined.

"Hush, darling. Daddy knows best for you~"

That didn't sit right with Oliver. Seeing her uncomfortable made him uncomfortable too. Did her husband have a habit of forcing choices she didn't want? He seemed pretty pushy. Not to mention condescending as hell.

He nodded as he made his way past the curtain and down the hall to where the wine cellar was. While he was able to find the Pinot without issue, he couldn't help but let his eyes wander to the wall of white wines.

It wouldn't be very fair to not at least offer the lady a choice.

When he made his way back into the private area, Oliver held out the two bottles he had grabbed on his way out. David raised his eyebrows in surprise when he noticed the Chardonnay label.

"I hope you don't mind! I wanted to provide some options so everyone could get what they wanted."

The blond didn't like the decision to bring out the white wine, but it thrilled his wife to have her favorite drink as an option. Oliver couldn't deny she looked extra beautiful with the look of happiness on her face.

He popped open both bottles, carefully pouring each drink into their glasses. While David stared him down with deep focus, Sis was more relaxed with her expression. She mouthed a 'thank you' when she had her wine prepared. Oliver gave her a polite nod, but little did she know that on the inside, his heart was getting quite fluttery from the way she looked at him.

"Now then! What can I get the two of you for tonight?"

"Oh? Did they not tell you our regular orders?" David asked, raising an eyebrow. His lips were curled back into a smirk, taunting Oliver with a deep smugness. "You seem to have a long way to go in this business, kid."

He wanted to tell the guy off for mocking his newness to the restaurant, but Sis beat him to the punch.

"Oh David, be nice! You're gonna scare the poor boy off!"

David turned his gaze from Oliver back to his wife. There was a deep, intense focus in his icy blues. It was as if he was trying to speak to her without speaking out loud. The way Sis slunk back into the cushion of the booth made it seem like whatever message he was attempting to give got to her. It was like watching a small bunny cower under the intimidating stare of a wolf.

Oliver gripped his pen and notepad tightly, fighting back the anger boiling within him. He still remembered how, when he was a little kid, his father taught him that men who tried to control and hurt women were cowards. Pure Scum of the Earth. This guy was no different if he thought it was okay to act that way with his own wife.

"She'll have the chicken parmesan and a Caesar salad."

"Actually, Sir," Oliver spoke, not bothering to write down the order. "I would rather let the lady speak for herself, so I know for certain she's getting what she wants."

David didn't like that one bit. It positively baffled him that someone would talk back to him in such a way. Oliver stood his ground, not breaking eye contact with him for even a second.

Though David was furious at such treatment, Sis was elated by it. She appreciated the respect the redheaded server was granting her. The smile on her pretty face was all Oliver needed to know he did the right thing.

"Well! As a matter of fact, I was interested in trying some New York strip. I've been hearing really great things about it from my girlfriends!"

Oliver was more than happy to write that down for her. He eagerly scribbled away as she told him how she wanted the steak cooked and what kind of veggies she wanted for a side. Oliver even made a note to bring her extra potatoes as a way to show her extra care.

"I'd be happy to get that for you, Miss."

"Oooh! I haven't been called 'Miss' in quite some time. Aren't you a charmer~"

His cheeks were positively flushed with redness from her sweet coos of praise. It was worth it, even with her husband staring him down with a burning hatred.

"And for you, Sir?"

"The same. But make my steak rare. I have quite an appetite for something bloody."

Now Oliver wasn't feeling as confident in himself. Normally he would dismiss these comments as coming from someone trying too hard to be tough after listening to too many podcasts on being an "alpha male".

This was not one of those times. Something about the way David looked at him made it seem as if that was to be taken as a genuine threat. That he better mind his business or else he would be the one to become a bloody piece of dead meat.

Any confidence Oliver had before was promptly shut down. With a quick flick of his pen, he finished writing out the order and gave a nod before scampering off back to the kitchen. The sooner he got out of David’s sight, the better.

“How’s it going back there?” one server asked Oliver while clumsily put in the order. She must have sensed his nervousness from all the way back in the kitchen.

“It’s interesting…” he admitted. “That woman is really nice, but her husband looks like he wants to bite my head off.”

Oliver had been exaggerating when he said that, but when he glanced over at his coworker, she had a look of genuine concern on her face.

“Listen to me, Ollie. Just play it safe. David is not someone you want to mess with. Just be quick, respectful, and get out of his way so he can spend time with his wife. It’s your best chance at surviving the night.”

The redheaded boy let out a deep sigh as he passed the order along to the chefs. She was right. He couldn’t let his budding crush on a random customer cloud his judgment. All he had to do was work hard, and not let his emotions get the better of him. If everyone was happy, then he would be happy too.

“Okay. I can do that,” he said. “I appreciate everyone looking out for me.”

“No problem,” she replied, giving him a pat on the back before turning to leave. However, she didn’t get far before thinking of one last piece of advice to give.

“Oh! By the way! Don’t be shocked if those two are…heavy on the PDA. David’s quite wealthy, so Giuseppe lets him get away with more lewd stuff. If you see something, don’t say anything.”

That certainly wasn’t something Oliver was expecting to hear in terms of advice. He wasn’t even sure to what extent she meant by that. It wasn’t until he grabbed a basket of fresh bread for their table and made his way back to the area behind the curtain that he finally understood.

And boy, did he get an eyeful.

David had Sis firmly perched on his lap, letting her straddle him as he feverishly kissed her. Her hands were holding onto both sides of his face, stroking his beard lovingly. They both moaned into their kiss, pawing at one another as if they hadn’t experienced a sensual touch in ages. Tongues dancing together and bodies moving.

David had pulled down the fabric of her dress, letting the girls out for anyone coming by to see. It wasn’t a surprise that she didn’t have a bra on under such a skimpy piece, but it was still quite a shock to see a half-naked customer going at it with their lover without a care of who came their way.

Oliver kept his mouth shut, still very much shocked by the lustful display, but now knowing better than to say anything. Even if this wasn’t normal for the restaurant, he would still be a bit too shy to ask them to stop. All he did was silently move to place the basket on the corner of their table. They could take the basket whenever they finished..

His green eyes glance up just for a mere moment, moving without his control. He didn’t mean to, but even in that split second, his gaze locked onto the lady. Sis’ eyes opened, catching Oliver in her peripheral vision. The poor boy froze in place, hand still on the bread basket and eyes widening as the beauty watched him. Meanwhile, David’s eyes were still closed, his mouth now on her neck to nibble and kiss at her soft-looking flesh. Only Oliver and Sis were watching one another.

Oliver was certain she was going to scowl at him. Tell him to beat it so she could continue getting frisky with her hubby. But she didn’t. In fact, she did the opposite.

She smiled at him.

A smile that was a perfect mix of sweet and spicy. Something that showed she liked having him nearby for company, but also a hint of desire from him watching them. Her beautiful brown eyes were shimmering in the light, while her long lashes fluttered in a playful manner. She puckered her lips to make a kissing motion at him.

Was she….flirting with him? All while riding her husband?

Oliver was far too overwhelmed to even consider the idea. He scampered off out of the room, leaving the couple be in order to rush back to the kitchen. Better to let them be before his face went full-tomato in color. Even still, while he tried to keep busy with his tasks, his heart was beating a mile a minute.

By the time the dishes were ready to be served, he had managed to pull himself together enough to bring out their food with complete professionalism.

Sis and David looked more than satisfied. All snuggled up with one another. They had dressed up again, and their hair was a bit messier and faces flushed compared to the last time Oliver had popped in.. All he had to do was act like he HADN’T just seen them in a romantic embrace.

“Here you are! I really hope you enjoy the meal!"

The excited grin on Sis' face as she watched him set her plate of food down was all too sweet. She really was a beautiful lady, and every moment he made her happy ended up making Oliver happy, too.

Still, he wanted to make sure both of them were satisfied with their service. With the same friendly smile on his face, Oliver turned to David to set his own dish down, too. Unfortunately, he didn't get the same expression of delight that Sis had shared. David kept his lips pressed tight in a grimace. His entire body was in a tense form. Eyes of crystal blue were watching him with unblinking focus, like a hawk stalking its prey.

Everything about David was making Oliver nervous, but it wasn’t the intensity that finally made him stumble. It was how, for a split second, the color of his irises seemed to flash to a bright yellow right before Oliver’s very eyes.

Oliver jumped as he was setting the plate down, knocking into David’s glass of wine in the process. A sea of dark red wine sloshed outward, cascading onto the table, the cloth on top of it and down onto the lower half of Sis’ dress.

“Ah!!” she gasped. “SHIT! No! I just got this from Italy!”

The boy’s eyes widened in shock, tearing away from David and focusing just on the lady whose dress he had just ruined. She looked so upset, and it made him feel deep shame and fear, overwhelming his senses with panic. The blood in his face drained, leaving him completely pale.

“O-Oh! I am SO sorry, Miss!” Oliver stammered.

“Now look at this mess,” David tsked, crossing his arms and shaking his head. Unlike Sis, who was showing worry over her beautiful gown, he had an aura of disappointment. He was acting like a parent getting ready to give their child a firm scolding.

Unbeknownst to Oliver, David was already planning how he would teach him a lesson for ruining his wife's belongings. He would make the poor server boy realize just who he had messed with. Really make him sorry for his actions.

But he didn't get the chance.

"Please let me fix this!"

The redhead was quick to jump into action, first grabbing an unused cloth napkin and dunking it into an untouched glass of ice water to soak it. He kneeled down in front of Sis' seat and began gently blotting at the stain on her dress. Even with the dark fabric hiding the redness, he wanted to prevent any discoloration on the garment. All the while Sis watched with a worried expression.

"Don't worry! I know some tricks to help with this."

In between dabbing with the wet, cold rag, Oliver grabbed a nearby salt shaker and sprinkled some salt into his palm before rubbing it evenly over the red stain.

"Let that sit for a few minutes," he explained, getting back up to his feet and moving the items on top of the table around so that the soaked tablecloth could be removed from their sight. "After I toss this into the laundry pile, I'll grab some more stuff to finish cleaning!"

Oliver was off like a shot, racing against the clock so that the stain wouldn't set. He wouldn't possibly forgive himself if he ruined their night by his clumsiness. He wasn't even thinking about the odd moment with David's eyes. All he remained focused on was getting all the necessary supplies from the cleaning closet.

With his tools in hand, Oliver returned to the dining area, kneeling once again by Sis' side. The salt had come in handy for pulling a good amount of the red color out, but the next part would add an extra kick for help. Oliver's hands moved in a blur as he poured dish soap and hydrogen peroxide into a spray bottle. With the liquids measured to his liking, Oliver sealed and shook up the bottle to a sudsy consistency.

"Wow! Aren't you an efficient thing?" Sis smiled, holding out the fabric so that he could evenly spray the stain. "Where'd you learn this trick, honey?"

"Oh, my dad knew a lot about preserving clothes whenever they got stained, ripped, or worn out," Oliver explained. "Growing up, we had to make our stuff last as long as possible. Didn't have money to burn on new clothes all the time."

That's the understatement of the year, he thought to himself. Piles of bills and his father's restless nights worrying about being able to feed his child weren't something to take lightly. Still, he didn't want to burden the couple he just met with his life story. All he wanted to do was to fix his mistake so their date wasn't spoiled.

"Listen, I do feel bad about the mess. If the stain is still there by the time you're finished with your meal, I'd be more than happy to pay for any other cleaning you get done for it."

As much as Oliver wanted to offer to pay for the dress itself, he could not possibly afford the cost of a luxury brand dress straight from Europe. Not unless he saved his money for the next 50 years. Still, Sis' kind smile told him the offer he had given flattered her.

"Don't you worry your sweet head, hun," she cooed, tucking a finger under his chin and tilting his head up a bit more. Oliver softly gasped at the gesture, cheeks flushing red once again.

"Yes. She's right," David spoke up. Oliver nearly jumped out of his skin when he remembered her husband was right next to them. "Thank you for cleaning her up. It's good to know Giuseppe knows how to pick the best and most competent people to work here."

After a dinner of going back and forth between smugness and fear-inducing intensity, it was a relief to see David actually pleased with his work. Oliver quickly scampered back to his feet so he wouldn't push his luck with being so close to the guy's wife. Even if it was nice being around her, he wasn't a home-wrecker.

The rest of their night went off without a hitch. Both of them got to enjoy their delicious steak dinners in peace, and Oliver managed to keep their glasses topped off without spilling another drop. By the time he delivered the check to their table, it was safe to say he had redeemed himself.

"It was a pleasure serving you both tonight! How's your dress looking now?"

"Good as new all thanks to your quick thinking, hun!" Sis beamed, showing off the bottom half of her dress. Sure enough, Oliver's work had left it spotless once again. "I want to properly thank you for doing that for me."

Oliver wasn't one to take on acts of service for any rewards. He simply liked to make himself useful and ease the burden of others. But with the excited glint in Sis' eyes as she nudged her husband, he couldn't bring himself to decline such an offer.

That was until David dug into his pocket and pulled out the most massive wad of cash Oliver had seen in his entire life. He was practically bug-eyed at the sight. David reached out to place the stack of bills in his hand, but he shook his head 'no'.

"Wh-Whoa! That's very generous of you, but I can't possibly accept that much money from you!"

David was already intimidating enough. Having the ability to throw money around like it was nothing didn't help that feeling. Besides, he was just doing as his father would have done. Not accepting charity for basic decency.

"It's nothing! I haven't had such amazing service in a long time!" Sis insisted. "You worked hard and I can already tell you're gonna be our favorite server here. Let me show my thanks, Oliver."

Sis plucked the cash wad out of David's hand and reached her hand out to tug at Oliver's apron. He softly gasped as she tucked the money into his pocket, giving his chest a light pat afterwards. He felt like his head was going fuzzy.

"Besides…I have a soft spot for cuties with freckles~"

Oliver's heart was practically doing backflips in his chest. The couple smiled playfully as they put their arms around one another, ready to leave together. By the time they had moved past the curtain and exited the restaurant, he was still standing in place with a bright red set of cheeks and a pocket full of hundreds.

He would definitely be asking his boss for more dinner shifts going forward.

"It's amusing he put in all that work fixing the stain, considering you're gonna get it covered in blood for our hunt later."

David and Sis were enjoying the remaining moments of their date night together. With the light of the full moon illuminating the path of the Santa Carla streets, they could enjoy each other's company and keep their eyes out for a victim or two.

"He was a sweet guy," Sis sighed, nuzzling against her husband's shoulder. "Very polite, dedicated, hardworking. I overheard his thoughts, too. Poor thing struggled when he was growing up. He comes from humble beginnings."

"Yeah, and he thought I was being an asshole."

"You're just soooo intimidating, Daddy," Sis cooed, stroking his ego. "And he backed off when he found out we were married. He's a respectful boy."

Little did Oliver know that David was one of several partners that Sis was romantically involved with. Humans and their ideas of monogamy were all too amusing to vampires.

David smiled kindly down at his wife, noticing the substantial amount of bliss she was experiencing.

"You really liked him, huh?"

"Yeah. I did," she sighed dreamily. "He was like…a loyal puppy"

Little did she know that the gears in David's head were turning. He adored seeing his queen so happy, especially after the recent traumatic events she had gone through. She was a fighter to the end, and she deserved to feel safe again.

Perhaps the pup would come in handy to his queen.

end of part 1

Tag List: @britany1997 @michael-after-hours @6lostgirl6 @kurt-nightcrawler @bezinful @american-idiot-jpg @vampirefilmlover @legal-lost-boy @crustyraccoon @ghoulgeousimmaculate @crustyboypix @oceansrose2002 @desoolate @palomam18 @themarginalthinker @bloodywickedvamp @vigdys @charlizekkelly

#the lost boys #tlb #party the pain away #female oc #male oc #the lost boys x oc

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99liners · 11 months

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So i have this lame drabble kinda idea for nodus tollens. As u have mentioned before that jimin's mom n brother treat rei as their own daughter n sister respectively so imagine one day jimins brother was hugging rei Or kissing her forehead (uk brotherly affection) n jimin saw these n literally went ballistic n started punching his own brother then jimins family would see what n Douchebag their son is😂

opus nodus tollens, drabble number 1 / tatemae series 建前:

pairing: choreographer!park jimin x trophy!wife reader extra character(s): min shiza (liberosis) genre: fluff, smut, angst, marriage!au, age-gap!au (9 years). words: 1.863 warnings: jealousy, over possessive!pjm, unhealthy behaviour, toxic relationships, heated argument, manipulative behaviour, smexy times, missionary position, unprotected sex, mentions of orgasm (m). original one-shot: nodus tollens part of: tatemae; 建前 — a bts series a/n: i don't think i will be adding the punching thingy, i get that jimin is supposed to be this obsessive guy but that level of obsession that he punches his own brother would take away from his character. i hope you understand and enjoy the drabble!

"i know what you want."

"what do you mean?"

"i know you want her like you have always wanted all my toys back when we were kids."

jimin had pulled aside his younger brother to the latter's room one fine evening.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

it has been six days since jimin and you flew down to busan to visit jimin's parents. they had been asking you both to come over ever since the wedding. back then, you had been busy with finishing college and jimin has always been one of the in-demand choreographers of the industry, so naturally there was no time to make the trip happen.

last month when you got laid off from the min-specter firm, it hit you badly. it had shaken you up in the worst way possible; you had stopped eating, you stopped talking to jimin, you did not reply to any of your ex-upperclassman-turned-ex-boss'-wife shiza's messages, you had not even stepped out of the house for weeks on end. most of the days, you did not even bother leaving the bed. you would be wearing the same house clothes and be slumped on the bed or at most, at the floor with your back supported by the bed. you still cannot believe that you were fired from your job; the job you had worked your ass off for. the internships, the training, the late-night studying — all of it turned to dust and swept away. and shiza? she was supposed to be like your older sister, she should have changed your boss' mind but all you get are empty apologies and how she is sad for you. nothing seemed to cheer you up and your husband was at his wit's end on exploring new to get you to even smile at him.

one day when he came back from work, he was surprised to see your ex-upperclassman, shiza. she was standing near the chair in the dining hall where you were sat. you looked like you had been crying.

"um, what's this? doll, is everything okay?"

you gave a curt nod, not meeting his eyes.

jimin turned to shiza, "mrs min i think it's best you lea-"

you cut him off, "no. she's okay."

jimin sighed, so she gets an okay but all he gets are nods and hums? he just wants his rei of sunshine (pun intended) back.

"jimin-ssi, if it's possible maybe you should take a trip with y/n, she needs some fresh air."

"ahha, only if this madam wants to go anywhere."

biting the inside of your cheeks, you mumbled, "i want to go out."

jimin's eyes flickered. wait so when he suggested going out for a vacation, you threw pillows at his face while proceeding to bury your face in the mattress and bellowing out noises like a dying whale but shiza eonnie mentions going on a trip once and you want to go now? what is this sorcery? jimin needs to learn this ninja technique.

a while later, shiza left when a black luxury car (jimin guesses it was a vintage rolls royce wraith) came around to pick her up.

your husband started collecting the dirty dishes and putting them in the sink when he heard your feeble voice.

"take me away before i lose myself," you mentioned, your eyes trained pointlessly at the floor while your arms came to wrap around themselves in a hug.

jimin almost dropped the porcelain plate to make his way to you, dropping to his knees as his hands brought down your hands in his, to rest on your lap.

"doll, i will take you anywhere you want. i just want you back as you were."

you sniffled down your tears and leaned over to hug him tightly, which your husband happily reciprocated.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

it was like you were born anew when jimin brought you to his childhood home. you have never known a family and now to have a father, a mother and a brother to call your own — it truly felt like a new life. every day you woke up, you got to have a mother's handmade breakfast made with love, you helped her out with the household chores, while in the evening the neighbourhood aunties would invite you over for cheesecake and coffee while they doted on you, mentioning how their jiminie got lucky to have you in his life.

it felt nice to be wanted, to be included in the mundane things in life and the days passed by normally, they didn't feel too long nor too short. it was all perfect. jiwon, jimin's younger brother would even take you on his motorcycle to mr park's cafe where mr park would proudly introduce you to his regular customers as his 'lawyer daughter-in-law'.

at first it started when mrs park forced you to go out and see the town around but then every evening you would leave with jiwon on his motorcycle while he showed you around. likewise, at first jimin did not much think about it, he usually was in charge of looking after the family business when he was home, so accounting took most of his time. plus, he was happy that you were exploring the places where he once grew up. it made him feel even closer to you when at night you would tell him about the places you saw, the sparkle in your eyes. you were just too adorable for his heart to take.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

"don't make a noise," jimin whispered near your ear before putting his hand over your mouth, stilling his lower body to a lull before hitting it home in an intense thrust, his pelvic area slapping against your cunny. the bedpost hit the wall with a thud while a groan died down in your throat.

jimin and jiwon's rooms are adjacent to each other and obviously, like two responsible adults, neither of you would ever want for the poor thing to have to hear anything inappropriate.

"fuuuck," you sighed against his palm while jimin continued his thrusts — bringing you over the edge while his length rummaged through your gummy walls, feeling every ridge, every bump in the hot cavern.

one particular hard thrust had you moaning loudly, a muffled one owing to jimin's hand but still the muffled noise was out in the air.

jimin brought his movements to a halt, "i don't think he heard it," he whispered, slowly moving his hips in a circular motion.

"i think he's asleep," you whispered back, the sentence broken in two parts owing to his slow actions. you winced at the leisurely pace.

"i can hear you jerks. loud and clear." jiwon's booming voice came through the walls.

jimin was really close to his release, he has been holding back all this time to not cause a commotion, "mm, might as well," his hips took up pace, creating a symphony of sinful noises.

you tried to stop him, your eyes going wide at the sudden pace. you were both in a state of pleasure and fear because your brother-in-law just said that he could already hear you guys even when you were whispering.

"he can hear us!" you reminded jimin, biting your lip hard to not let out moans, your legs closing around his waist.

his dominant hand got a hold of the headpost, wrapping around the wood to anchor himself for the thrusts as they grew sloppy; indicating his oncoming orgasm, "he already has."

"y'all are fucking disgusting! i am going to put bleach in my ears," jiwon yelled again before you both heard his bedroom door opening and closing, followed by footsteps hurrying downstairs.

"forget him, look at me," jimin's free hand came to hold your gaze at him, the edge of his palm supporting your chin while his fingers grazed your cheek. his thrusts slowed down again as he angled his hips to reach deeper angles.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

later the next day, you absolutely avoided jiwon, you were too embarrassed to even look in his direction.

in the evening while jimin and you were sat in the living room watching tv, jiwon walked over, "ahem, if you guys are not busy copulating like bunnies, do you want to go to our old high school? there is an annual sports festival going on," he offered. mind you, he was loving this because he gets to tease you at every sentence, every accidental eye contact.

you winced at the first sentence, "stop mentioning it. we are sorry."

jimin was sat beside you looking over some papers his father had just handed him, "speak for yourself, i am not sorry."

"of course," jiwon shook his head before turning to you, "for your information, you are so bad at trying to suppress any sound."

jimin raised an eyebrow at that, since when did you two become so close to talk about sex (of all topics) so openly. he understands that you two are closer in age, jiwon is a year older and doing his masters but it did not sound as innocent to him, "hey, be respectful."

"let's go," ignoring the teasing, you stood up, "i would love to see where this one used to go to school," you touched jimin's hair, giving it a slight ruffle.

he caught your hand and placed a kiss on it, "be safe and be back before 8, the streets get empty. i don't know what takes you both so long every night."

"yes yes, don't worry," jiwon exhaled casually before leaving with you.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

by the time jiwon and you came back, jiwon had his arm wrapped around you, hanging by your shoulder as you two laughed at some joke.

after dinner when mrs park took you away to show you old pictures, jimin pulled jiwon to the side.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

"whoa whoa, wait a second. di-did did you just compare your wife to toys?" jiwon's eyes went wide.

"well of course she is not a toy, that's the point i am trying to make. she is my wife."

"you just compared her to a toy! always knew you needed therapy."

"listen just keep your hands off her, i don't like this newfound intimacy between you two," jimin's hand was on jiwon's shoulder, his grip tightening with every word.

"are you joking right now? you are joking right? she's like my fucking sister. i have always wanted a sister because you are such an asshole and now i finally have someone whom i can call a sister so of course you have to ruin it."

jimin went quiet, maybe he took it all wrong. suddenly he was reminded that this was his brother, his blood. he knows his little brother, he believes in the values his parents taught them.

"hey, look it's you from when you were in your nappies," you had walked in jiwon's room looking for him. a photo album in your hand, you walked to the duo.

jiwon gave you a small smile as he turned his gaze to what you were pointing at.

jimin let a sigh, maybe his family is complete finally and there is nothing to worry about as he found himself smiling at you two.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

feedback is deeply appreciated. ✨

masterlist | bts masterlist | rules | ask box

- jaimie

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dailyunstableeve · 4 months

Text

I’ve been non-stop listening to this song, Natalie by Mckenna Grace. I couldn’t help it but to think this song is my Spidersona, Eve and Miguel.

I wish I could draw it out but my talent in art is limited so I thought maybe it would be nice if I just used words to visualize it.

You can listen to it while reading it too 💕

°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .

She's got something about her

It's easy when you're around her

Miguel is used to working solo like any spiderman would, after the spider society is founded, he’s mostly with Jess. Since Jess is pregnant, Miguel would secretly look after Jess. Eve joined the group and Miguel would find his job of capturing anomalies a lot easier than before. As in dropping the idea of constantly getting worried at Jess because Miguel and Eve would get it done most of the time.

A big smile and dark eyes you get lost in

Eve is a cheerful person, she’s a big sister to everyone or a mom figure for everyone, because of her ability to look after people, like how she cares for Miguel. Eve basically cares about everyone more than herself.

Eve and Miguel would hang out from time to time, Eve is always there to try to crack a few smiles or laugh from Miguel but Miguel is mostly in his serious mode. But little does that Eve doesn’t know, Miguel loves watching Eve smile, holding onto eye contact as she was talking to him.

She's the first on the dancefloor

Eve is an 80% extrovert, she will never be able to resist the temptation of music and always dance along with it.

Small Flashback from the Christmas fic (You can find it in the Masterlist), Miguel gifted her a vinyl of classic music and she loves dancing with it.

Watch her laugh, the kind you would fall for

This will be the same explanation of “A big smile and dark eyes you get lost in”

She'll always be there when you're calling

She'll hold your hand in the crowd (Ahh)

Miguel often would have nightmares about what happened in Gabi’s Universe, that he will keep on working and working until he thinks he did enough (he never did). When it comes to night that he couldn’t sleep, Eve would accompany him, she would sit in the office together with Miguel as he continued the work.

The kinda girl you'd write a song about

Or, write a poem about (They had a poem bet before)

Natalie

You move as natural as the breeze

Every sentence that you speak has a hold

Her flexibilities, her ideas of fixing problems, all learned from F.E.A.S.T. Which brought her a huge advantage when it comes to keeping everyone on check.

Oh, Natalie

You're as wild as the sea

Could you teach me how to be so beautiful?

Miguel believes he’s a monster, sometimes he wishes to be like Eve, that everyone in the Society adores Eve while Miguel is just a boss to them.

I'd like to know

Natalie

She's always fun at parties

Walks in looking so carefree

She shines and I feel a little lighter

‘Parties’ take it as the band show she’ll be in every weekend with Hobie, Gwen, Miles and Pav. Eve would never know that Miguel actually watches her show every time. At start Miguel is just watching from his office then he starts to appear in Hobie’s universe just to watch the band show.

Miguel loves to watch how Eve just spreads her wings and sings out her best, it does give him a slight relaxation of how he doesn’t need to be so strict to everythings.

Brown hair right past her shoulders

Confidence that makes her seem older

Eve has brown hair, except she dyed it to red (since Red is her favorite color). Miguel and Eve have an age gap of around 8-9 years (I heard Miguel is around his age around 30 while Eve is 23 by the time she joined the society) Sometimes, Miguel would forget about Eve’s age due to how she handles the situation no matter how bad it is.

I wish I was a little like her

She'll hold your hand in the crowd (Ahh)

The kinda girl you'd write a song about

Natalie

You move as natural as the breeze

Every sentence that you speak has a hold

Oh, Natalie

You're as wild as the sea

Could you teach me how to be so beautiful?

I'd like to know

Natalie

(Oh, oh-oh-oh, oh)

Natalie

Feel like the moon watching the sun

Miguel is like the moon, and also he is a crazy workaholic at night. And the moon is only able to shine because of the sun. He thinks that with Eve around, he could do so much better, turning the society into a better place

So many stars but she's the one

That everybody needs

Out of every Spiderman he recruited, Miguel believes Eve is the one (no hate towards other spiderman, spiderwoman and spidersona, I love all of them)

(Oh, oh, oh)

I'd like to be like that for once

How does it feel to be so loved?

Could you show me how to be?

After losing Gabi, Miguel basically told himself that he doesn’t deserve anything anymore until Eve appears. Eve showed Miguel that it’s okay to embrace the mistake and learn to fix it, she showed him warmth and he wishes to return that favor too.

Natalie

You move as natural as the breeze

Every sentence that you speak has a hold

Oh, Natalie

You're as wild as the sea

Could you teach me how to be so beautiful?

I'd like to know

Natalie

(Oh, oh-oh-oh, oh)

Natalie

°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .

a/n: this is mostly of how Miguel viewed my Spidersona and I've been urging to write about it for so long because the song is so beautiful 😭😭😭

Masterlist

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smok3r7 · 5 months

Text

Latching On To You

Joel Miller x F!reader

Explicit, 18+

Chapter Two: History Repeats Itself

Series Masterlist & My Main Masterlist - My Ao3

Series summary: What happens when, after thirteen loving years of being with Joel, you start to feel like he’s slipping away from your grasp? How much of yourself will you lose because of the trauma your father put you through at such a young age? You could be wrong about Joel, but something is telling you otherwise - or are you just not healed enough to see past your own insecurities?

Chapter summary: Fast forward thirteen years, you and Joel have been living the dream married life. Both of you are excelling in work, and have been thriving together - your passion for each other has been strong. But when a close family member of yours dies, you begin to crumble and change into something vile - but Joel, he’s the one who becomes the villain.

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: slight age difference (35/40), No use of y/n, no outbreak AU, smoking weed, abandonment issues, trauma from father w/ alcoholism, losing a loved one, attachment issues, HEAVVY angst, arguing turns kinda physical, accusations of cheating

~Thank you all so much for the love🫂 been feeling a bit under the weather, but y’all have helped with that! Hope you guys enjoy🩷

“Do you want the couch there under that window darlin’?” Joel yells, just as he and Tommy walk in the front door holding either side of the ‘L’ shaped sectional that your great-aunt, Isabelle, had left you. You come around the corner from the kitchen to see Tommy struggling to keep his side up, then you look behind him to Joel, who made the couch look like it weighed as much as a feather.

You were having a hard time trying to figure out where you wanted her couch - only because you and Joel move furniture around all the time and have accumulated a lot of house items since you moved in thirteen years ago. “Umm,” you started as you turned your body towards the living room window, which was huge - almost the length of the wall.

A smile grew on your face as you looked out at the beautiful wooded area behind your house. Then noticed how the sun rays beaming in through the glass pane lit up the room, you immediately knew that was the spot for it, “Yeah I do.”

“You heard my lady, Keep it moving dumbass.” Joel egged his younger brother on, however, Tommy is quick to come back, “Old man, relax, gonna give yourself a heart attack moving like this. Let me just get a better grip.”

Those two bickered back and forth like no one’s business, they never went too far but it always seemed like it could. You always found yourself laughing at them because it always started out with something stupid, it made you feel like kids again - you loved days like that.

You spun on the balls of your feet and walked back into the kitchen to finish dinner, for the three of you, just giggling to yourself. Listening to the two brothers struggle to figure out how to maneuver the couch quickly fades into a random song on the radio you had on in the kitchen.

You made a simple, yet delicious, dinner for the evening. A lemon chicken alfredo pasta, it was Isabelle’s secret recipe, you were the only person in your family to get a secret recipe out of her.

She would make this for you whenever you were sick or just feeling blue. It would make you feel better instantly, it was your comfort food for sure. She was like another mom to you, she showed you how to stick up for yourself, from your own thoughts. When she unexpectedly got sick around two months ago and passed away a week later, to say that her dying had an impact on you, was an absolute understatement. It changed you into an angry shell of a woman, your whole view of life had altered.

—

You got the call just as you were about to walk into a big consultation appointment with a client for your boss - you got promoted, yet again, now you were an assistant for the second best lawyer in the state of Texas, Mr. Dominic DelGato.

As soon as you heard your moms trembling voice answer the phone, you knew something was terribly wrong.

Before you even realized he was next to you the whole call, Mr.DelGato had seen your reaction to what you had just been told, “Go home. I got this, I’ll call you later this afternoon.” He says as you hang up the phone, you look up at him with glossy eyes, “Thank you.” Is all you muster out and then you quickly turn around to head towards your office to gather your things.

Tears threaten to spill down your face as you exit the red-bricked building, trying your hardest to not lose your shit in front of your coworkers and their clients. But once you locked your truck door, the tears started to flow out like a dam that burst open.

—

The thumping of Joel’s work boots on the kitchen tile a couple feet behind you, broke your mind from the memory of that dreadful day. You had been standing at the sink, with the water running, just staring out the window - not looking at anything specific. For what ended up being seven minutes when it only had felt like seconds.

“Baby girl?” He softly asked, already knowing you weren’t really there, he had called out for you a couple times before he walked in. Before you answered, you turned the faucet off and your hands gripped the edge of the counter, taking a second to breathe and looking at the thin band and beautiful diamond on your left hand. “Just got lost for a second baby,” you then turn your body around to face him, “I’m okay.” You half smiled trying to convince him, yet, it seemed like you were convincing yourself.

You can tell Joel wants to push you more but before he can ask if you’re sure, here comes Tommy behind him, “What smells so fucking good hun?” You slide over to the stove to stir the tall pot containing dinner, “Lemon chicken alfredo pasta, my favorite.” You hum as the fresh smell of lemons flows up in your nose.

Joel takes your place at the sink, washing the last of the dishes you used to cook. “God that sounds delicious, you should save a little plate for me hun,” Tommy starts, you snap your head to the left and before you ask questions, Tommy is already sharing why, “Maria is cooking at the house tonight, I can’t stay for dinner. But you guys enjoy and please, relax - you need it.”

“You better get home soon then, I’ve heard she’s got a temper on her.” You joke as Tommy gives you a warm hug, “Don’t get on her bad side, she will hate you. I know that feeling all too well.” Joel chimes in behind you, still washing pans. “Oh do you now?” There’s an inflection in your tone that makes Joel regret letting that fall from his mouth.

A beat goes by and you continue, “Thank you so much for your help today, I really appreciate you. Now get on home before Maria comes looking for you!” Tommy chuckles as he says goodbye to you both and walks towards the front door. After hearing the click of the lock, you exhale, not realizing you were holding your breath.

You silently go back to the pot of hot pasta and make yourself a plate, “Dinner’s ready.” You state walking to the long chestnut table in the dining room, no emotion behind your words. You were now irritated with Joel, why did he have to say that? “I know that feeling all too well” replays over and over in your head. The way he said it made you feel like he was trying to have a pity party for himself, it made you overthink everything about yourself. Hearing Joel like that, had brought you back in time to arguing with your father, that’s what hurts you the most right now.

—

Are you too needy? Do you ask for too much? Are you annoying? Does Joel hate you? Does Joel think I hate him? Is he even happy? You don’t have a temper…or do you? “All too well.”, what does that mean? Why is he the one having a pity party?

—

Your head begins to throb from the incoming migraine, the tips of your ears are burning red, your right leg bouncing underneath the table and your breathing is getting heavier. You are just a bomb waiting to explode, a bomb that Joel has no idea was even here as he sits across from you.

“Delicious as always dear.” Joel exclaimed after his first couple bites, whereas you are basically playing with your plate. “Mhm” you hum becoming annoyed quickly, you were trying your best to not explode on Joel, you simply didn’t have the energy to argue.

Fast Car by Tracy Chapman starts playing through the radio in the kitchen, this brings you over the edge.

“Fucking song.” You grunt and scoot your chair out so you can walk away from the suffocating feeling in the air. Leaving your dirty plate on the table was something you didn’t do, but here you are. “What is going on with you?” Joel questions as you angrily strut past him, trying your best to not cause hell, you ignore him and go out the slider to your backyard. After slamming the slider shut, you feel a brisk breeze that makes you wish you’d grabbed a jacket, but you were not walking back in there.

You grab one of the bigger roaches from the ashtray that’s on the patio table and light it as you curl up in a chair by the empty fire pit.

—

That song just had to play then, you always find a way to torture me don’t you dad? I can never escape you and your evilness, you will follow me till I die, won’t you? Why can't you just leave me alone? Why are you coming through Joel to get to me, what kind of hold do you have over me?

—

Your mind is in shambles, you can’t think straight. You just want to be left alone until you can make sense of them. But Joel can’t read your mind, though you wish he could, so you’re not shocked when you hear the slider open and shut.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry I said that to Tommy. I was just trying to make a lighthearted joke, as soon as I said it, I knew I messed up. Didn’t realize this bad though.” Joel explains, as he kneels in front of your curled up legs, your dead eyes stare at Joel’s dark brown eyes and you take a drag off the roach, blowing the smoke up into the sky between the both of you.

Honestly, you aren’t even upset with him anymore because he apologized like he should - yet you still are raging on the inside because your father never did that. “Baby..please say somethin to me,” Joel pleads, “Even if you have to scream at me, do it.” You took that as a green light and the world you two shared, starts to crack.

“Don’t ever throw around that I hate you. It feels like your asking for fucking sympathy when all I do is love and support you altogether, shit is not funny.” You sternly state as your face goes stone cold, the roach you lit is gone somewhere.

“I wasn’t-“ he starts to interrupt, “Not a fucking negotiation Joel. You just don’t do that, because I have given all of myself to you.”

You’re fuming now, getting yourself all worked up over a joke, deep down you know this is ridiculous but your logical thinking is gone. “Since you feel like me giving you everything you could want and more, is the feeling of someone who hates you and you “know it all too well”. Why are you still around?” You two are standing at this point, you on one end of the patio against a wood pole and Joel is basically mirroring you.

Joel’s face is bright red, eyes twitching, he wants to yell back at you for being crazy but he knows you’re mentally dealing with a lot right now. Now you’re mad because he’s not giving you a reaction, this leads to you thinking he doesn’t care how upset you are. “Are you even fucking listening to me?” You yell taking a couple steps towards him with your arms up to be dramatic, he’s still holding himself back - until you push the final button.

“Fuck you Joel,” you hissed, now in his face. “You know what, it all makes sense now, you don’t care cause you’re out fucking Samantha. Just - Fuck you Joel.” This broke the restraint that Joel had.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” His voice booms outside the patio, he’s never been loud, but you weren’t backing down. “Then explain to me why you’re away all the time with her? You don’t always answer texts or calls when you’re with her, maybe I’m losing my mind but there’s something going on.” Now you’re loud in his face, trying to keep yourself together and trying not to cry.

Joel strides towards you and backs you up into the corner as he towers over you and bites back, “Because I fucking work with her!! She’s my assistant you dumbass!”

Immediately, you go into fight or flight mode - your body naturally choosing fight mode. You forcefully slap Joel across his face, creating a crack that echoed into the trees like Joel’s voice. As he backs away, you bolt into the house, up the stairs into the bedroom you two shared and locked the door. You turned your back to the door and slid down it, sitting on the floor while salty tears hit your lips and chin, terrified for what’s next.

Not even three minutes later, you hear the slider door shut, followed by Joel’s quick and heavy footsteps on the hardwood floor, his keys jingling next, then silence. You wait for him to say something, anything - but the sound of the front door slamming rang through your ears.

Joel left. You couldn’t believe it. Joel really left. You’re sitting on your bedroom floor that you share with Joel, in absolute shock, this was almost identical to how your last interactions with your father went.

—

After about an hour of hoping he would come right back, you were proved wrong, he was still gone and you had no idea where he was - frankly, you didn’t want to know. You find the strength to drag yourself into the bathroom that's connected to the room, and you run yourself an almost boiling hot bath.

You strip yourself of the sweater and jeans that Joel said he loved on you, looking in the mirror, you see a girl you don’t recognize. A girl who is not sure who she is anymore, a girl who is severely damaged, a girl who just wants to be loved and not left behind.

Not crying anymore, but your eyes are still full with tears. You slowly sink into the deep tub of steaming water, the burning sensation bringing you comfort and some kind of security.

You begin to replay the evening in your head, trying to figure out where it all started. But the thing was, it was all you, you’re the one in the wrong, Joel did nothing wrong. Until the end, he did not have to corner you or call you a dumbass, that was Joel’s error, a pretty big one at that.

About two hours later, you’re out of the tub, laying in your shared bed with one of Joel’s flannels on - but Joel’s still not home. You roll over to look at the clock on your nightstand that reads, “12:28AM”. Rolling onto your back, you feel something in your chest rip so violently that you swear, you could hear the rip of your own heart. Did you just lose Joel forever, because you’re turning into your father?

—

Did Joel really abandon you? Is he over at Samantha’s? Did Joel mean it when he called you a dumbass? Why is the curse of your father following you and the man you love so deeply? What are you going to do? This time is different, Joel has never left after an argument - he’s never not been home to sleep either. Are the thirteen years of you and Joel going to be thrown away all because of you?

#joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #latching on to you #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #joel miller series #joel miller angst #god this one hurts #based on life events

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toiletwipes · 1 year

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IM WAITING FOR THE PUNISHMENT, I KNOW ITS ON MY WAY | vampire!wilbur

~3k words / hey hey hey. so ahah. yeah. @l0veb0mb1ng keeps dropping bangers and they have good vampire fics so I couldn't help myself! blame her! anyways. hope yall enjoy!

[You get a little too invested in the murders happening around the city and get introduced to the phrase: fuck around and find out. Wilbur happened to be the person to save you. And he's kind of a vampire. Roll the tapes.]

Nothing makes sense in this fic, I am so sorry but the title is from Custer by Slipknot. I'll do a part 2 <//3

When one pictures their ideal death, it usually involves passing on during their sleep or perhaps something just as kind, maybe old age.

All this to say this is not what you pictured for yourself.

Curled up, in someone else's arms, a half-stranger, cradling your body as the two of you put pressure on the wound in your neck. You can hardly speak, struggling to even breathe, and all you can see is this man, speaking to you and you're hearing none of it. And after considering everything, yes you don't want to die… but dying in his arms seems nice.

A very handsome man, with brown, wispy, curling hair into his eyes as he looked over you, around you as he tried to find anything that could help. There was nothing. And you liked the way his eyes were red, despite knowing why they're red. His smile, you remember, had been the prettiest thing you'd ever have the pleasure to see.

"Wil-" you choke on the blood on your mouth, trying to speak, and his hands shake as they press harder on your neck and he shushes you, every part of him shaking even with the weight of your body in his lap.

"It's okay, you're gonna make it out of here, the ambulance-" and you lift a trembling hand to graze his cheek. It leaves a streak of blood on his cheek by his mouth.

"Smi- le. P-p-... please." And the two of you hear the sirens already, and his eyes flicker between the street and your face. And he chokes on air he doesn't need before flashing a small smile.

"You're going to make it out of here, I swear. You'll make it." He kept repeating it even as you felt the ache, the pain in your neck dull. Before you could realize it, you're being placed on the ground, gently as he could and without the added pressure from him, you gasp and gag on the flowing blood. But it doesn't last long, bright lights show and people slide into your blurring vision.

For better or for worse, you close your eyes and let them deal with it. Sleep tempts you enough to listen.

***

Blinking your eyes awake, you tilt your head to the side to see the monitoring equipment and the IV attached to your arm. You swallow, with an extremely dry throat you notice, and look away. You've always had a weak stomach when it comes to these things. Looking around as much as you could though, there's no one in the room. Your eyes trail to the door with the window and open blinds and people pass by every few seconds. Nobody opens the door.

You sigh, not that you really expected someone but… the last thing, the very last thing you remember, is the smiling face of a truly beautiful man. The thought of it, separated with the choking on your own blood part, still makes you feel warm.

The table beside you has your things on it, your phone and your keys. And a bouquet of flowers sitting in a vase, the prettiest you'd seen. You recognize tulips and carnations but nothing else. Still the white and blue flowers are pretty and thoughtful.

No tag on them to show who the flowers were from. Frowning, you take your phone, groaning for a second as you reach with a weak arm. Leaning back into the bed out of breath, the phone lays on your stomach, the cold screen apparent through the thin sheets.

When you catch your breath, you're quick to unlock the phone, going straight to your call log. There's a missed call from your boss and then there's your aunt in town, but there's one call that makes your eyebrows raise up.

It's a phone number you don't recognize, but checking the text messages, it seems like you did know him. Or, were going to know him. And then it all comes back to you.

Meeting him at night, having information about these strange killings in your part of the city, and then after a week of this, being attacked. Not by him. Something else entirely. And he'd tried his best to call the ambulance, let them know of your location and held tight to make sure you made it till then. At least you think. (And if you think hard enough, you remember part of his name. Will, maybe.)

The last thing you truly do remember is his smile and the warmth it brought you even when touching him made you shiver and the cold ground still sink into your bones, even now in this hospital, you could feel it.

The door opens and a doctor walks in.

He explains you lost a lot of blood, that they managed to get to you in time and that if they were a minute late, you wouldn't have been here. But then he explains that you've got a patch on your neck, that despite losing so much blood, it didn't even need stitches. ("It was… strange.")

When you asked about the flowers, he hums and scratches his beard, "I think I saw a guy deliver them to your room but other than that, I don't know I'm sorry." You mumble your thanks, sinking into your bed before the nurse comes back in and you ask for another blanket.

They let you out after twenty-four hours, and you make it home in time to see… nothing has changed.

Everything was exactly as you left it.

Which also meant the dinner you were in the middle of eating was still there. You grimace, throwing the whole plate away as you move through your apartment. Nothing had been out of place.

Tapping your fingers against your folded arms, you think absently about the wound. About how you asked if he could anything, from that night, and he froze, it was for a split second but he froze. And then he shook his head, stopping and cutting himself off every few words. But it sounded mostly like he couldn't do it. Like it would hurt him. And hey, modern medicine has its wonders, so you're not too upset.

But that night when you go to peel the bandage back after getting completely undressed to shower, your breath is stolen completely. There is hardly a wound, sign that a wound was ever there in the first place. There's two tiny dots, dragged down in a jagged line, but they're mostly scars. Fresh, and still tender when you graze over it with a finger, but still. Scars.

It made you wonder.

Whatever he did, he didn't make you into something like him. That much was obvious. The hospital food had left you hungry for real food, but the food was still things like a sandwich or a box of donuts, things like that. Nothing like whatever made him hungry.

So, scrubbing your skin off of any dirt, you get out, and dry as fast as you can. Throwing on shorts and a hoodie, you sit in the middle of your bed, arms wrapped around your legs as you dialed the phone number to this man.

He doesn't answer. And he doesn't answer the second call, and that's when you leave the voicemail. "Hey, um, Will, is that right? I- it doesn't matter, or it's not that urgent but it matters to me but I need you to call me? Or something because I'm seriously freaking out and something's wrong. Please call me back." You've never felt more pathetic in that moment but what could you afford to lose?

Dignity means nothing to you right now and as you pad to your kitchen to eat, you just knew you needed answers. Leaving your phone on the bed just in case because if he calls, and you know it's a bad time to be petty, you want him to feel just a little desperate like you did. Enough to call you a second time.

And when you come out of the kitchen after eating the leftover soup in the fridge, you see your phone has one missed call. And nothing else. Not even a voicemail.

You wonder if you should call him back when you hear frantic banging on your door. Glancing at your phone one last time, you manage to convince yourself that it couldn't possibly be him. It's way too soon, there's no way he lives close by and when did you ever give him your address?

The frantic banging didn't stop until you slide the lock off the door and opened it, and your mouth gaped open at seeing him. Him.

"I-" you stammer, struggling to form a thought. "I called you like four minutes ago, how-" he waves his hand and stops you from talking again.

"Will you let me in? And show me what's wrong?" His voice pleads with you and you bite down on your lip, chewing as you contemplated it for a second. It is why you called him, after all.

Letting him in, you lock the door behind him and show him to the couch. He doesn't sit but you're too bothered to care about it, you sit with your legs tucked under you.

"I want to start by saying I don't exactly remember everything that night, just that I was supposed to meet you and when I did, I got attacked and I- I almost died."

("Hey, hey, stay with me, you're going to be okay. Y- you're going to make it, just- just listen to my voice okay?" His voice shakes in your memory. And you have to pull all of your strength together to stay focus, even with all the blood leaving and choking and the hot, blinding pain in your neck.)

He doesn't move but you can see the flashes of emotion on his face.

"And- and when I got home and went to take a shower, it's just. Well, look." You stuttered through the beginning, breath catching in your throat as you thought about it and when you pulled the jacket down enough, just to show the scars, he stiffened. "And I wanted to know if you did anything to me- if you tried to heal me, even a little bit-" and he shakes his head, turning away and to the window. He stands by it and yeah, you look at his hands, they're closed and shaking with how hard he's clenching them.

"I told you at the beginning, there are going to be risks, looking into this." And he turns around, face definitely angry and frustrated. He can't cry, and it's not a thing of refusing to, no you can see them building in his eyes and they just won't fall. "If I tried to save you the way I was, you would have rathered me to kill you by now." And he starts pacing.

You look down at the ground, not feeling an ounce of guilt or regret. You know the truth of those murders, first hand. You know what's killing them and that's more than what the public knows. But it almost killed you.

"You have to drop it." He speaks.

And automatically, you refused, "no." You didn't even want to entertain what he wanted you to do.

"Either you stop looking into this or you die. It's as simple as that." He says, moving away from the window and towards you.

"The people need to know they're not safe-"

"-they already know!" He shouts, stopping four steps away from you. He digs his palms into his eyes, "five people have died the same exact way and nobody has been caught. People already know they're not safe. And if you tell them what, a fucking blood-sucking demon is the person behind it, they'll never believe you. And then you'll still get killed just like everyone else." He drops the palms from his hands and then steps closer, and despite being so frustrated and scared, your heart beats harder at being so close to him.

"You almost died already, just please stop." His hands hover over your neck and face, close enough to feel the chill of his cold skin.

"I can't stop. The people who died-" "-they're already dead, there's nothing you can do for them." And he steps away and when you watch him, he releases a breath he doesn't need. He turns away and for a moment, things are quiet.

And thinking real quick, to the moment where he stood so close and stared you in the eye like you staying alive mattered more than the justice these people deserved- you recall the dark irises. Nothing like the red color before.

"You're hungry." You state, and his shoulders tense up. "Why?"

"Trying to lose weight, it doesn't matter. That's not what I'm here for." He refuses to turn around.

"It- I just- there's still one thing that I'm confused about." He doesn't say anything as you stand up, moving closer to him. "I was bleeding out, I was right there. It would've been easy to-"

"To kill you?" He turns around and the both of you freeze at how close the other is, despite him being far more aware of it. And yes, that's what you want to know. He was right there, the same kind of creature that's killing your city's people, holding your bleeding body and you were right there.

"It would've been easy," you say, and his eyes dart to your face. He searches your eyes for something you can't describe.

"It wasn't." He said in the end and then backed up, backs away from you, holding his breath again. "Stop trying to be a hero and lay low for a while." And then he slammed the door on his way out.

***

It's one thing, to be told to stop being a hero, it's another to follow through with the advice. It's not like you wanted to die, far from it. But knowing what you know, you couldn't just let everyone fend for themselves against a feral vampire.

Not to mention, you're not going to listen to someone be cryptic, be the prettiest man you've ever met, and then leave you alone to make stupid decisions.

So right now, you've been following whispers and half-true rumors about this guy. It leads you all the way to this house. Right on the corner and in the middle of a neighborhood. You wonder if that's by choice for a second before wandering inside, quiet as you could with creaking floorboards. Not to mention, the door was already unlocked and swinging in the wind.

Not a good sign.

The inside was in a worse state. Things toppled over, blood splattered every imaginable surface. Bodies littered the floor. It was harder to hold the bile in as you followed the trail of chaos up the stairs, following the noise. As soon as you reach the top of the stairwell, you hear Will's voice and your heart beats a little faster. What the fuck is he doing here? And after a few whispered words, you heard vile things.

Limbs torn, flesh bitten off. Awful stuff and by the time you can even think of moving your feet because was that Will? Did he just die? You see something tossed across the hallway and seconds later, Will walks into your line of sight. He is just covered in blood. It's smeared around his mouth, coating his hands and it's seeping into his clothes. His hair caught some of it but in all honesty, he looked every bit of monster he claimed to be.

And you couldn't feel more relieved to see him.

"Oh thank fucking- you're alive." You feel your shoulders drop and you run up the stairs, just close enough to wrap your arms around his shoulders and press your forehead against his chest, standing on the lower step. You make a point to ignore the blood.

His hands slowly come up to rest on your shoulders, pushing you away enough to give him space. Enough space to tilt your head back to meet his eyes. His eyes are wide, wild and completely red. Brighter than anything.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" His voice drops in pitch and it's almost a growl with the way he speaks so low. And shit, you were supposed to stay low, weren't you?

"I caught wind of the guy being here and I was just-" your words get caught off as you watch him move, his hands dragging blood across skin and clothing, wrapping themselves around your throat in a delicate motion before pushing you against the wall, still on the stairs.

"Yeah, he's dead. Made sure of it." Your eyes, previously focused on his face, dashed to look at the dead body's direction but he clicked his tongue, lifting a finger to nudge your face back towards him. "Eyes on me." And something about him, probably knowing he's a monster, covered in blood, right after killing the man you've been tracking down, makes his gentle touch feel even softer.

He groans, leaning his nose into your hair and inhaling, and he nearly covers you in his body with how close he is. "Can feel your heartbeat under my hands, it beats so fast. Thinking about me?"

And you know your heart beat even faster, knowing he could hear it, feel it. "Are you gonna kill me this time?" You ask, because this is a strangely ill-fitting position to kill someone. Because you want him to be this close because…

"Oh, I don't want to kill you- maybe get a taste of you but," he moans into your hair, a hand leaving to press against the wall beside your head, "no, no. Want you alive. Want you begging, squirming underneath me. Need you. Need you so fucking bad" And then he presses even closer, his hips pressing against yours and you can feel him. Feel him hard and twitching beneath blood-soaked clothes. And by then you couldn't keep your hands off of him, coming up to grip his clothes, bite back your whines as he continues to grind you against the wall.

Then, a moment of clarity, you remember you're in a house full of dead bodies. Probably all monsters.

"Take me home, Will, and you can have me," whatever possessed you to say that, you don't know. But he pulls back and as you're about to head downstairs, he presses a hand against the back of your head, pulling you close to him as he kisses you. Hard with teeth clacking against each other, nipping at your lip before pulling away. Listening to you pant against his mouth.

"Hold on," he whispers against your lips, stealing another kiss before wrapping your arms and legs around him and all you can think as the world blurs around you is how lucky you are you aren't dead. Strange thing to say before you get fucked into the next week by someone who is probably legally dead- after he just slaughtered a house full of monsters- quite the strange thing to say.

But still. You're lucky. You're alive, and you're starting to think you might like this guy.

Strange things indeed.

#wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x reader #c: wilbur soot #au: vampire #vampire wilbur #tw: gore

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ms0milk · 27 days

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shapeless anxiety has crept up on you since birth but mr nanami knows its something much more sinister than that, always has been. something he won't lose you to. cw a panic attack in warm stables. surprise relief and a cowboy's hunting knife 1k

farmhand nanami tag <3

It happens, it happens, and you haven’t died yet. Trivial comforts that have long since lost their potency run your heart’s hamster wheel. That’s all your heart is at this point, a skittering thing with a life expectancy of three. Cannibalistic tendencies.

You knock the back of your head on the gate to a rhythm that at least keeps you from crying– limp on the floor of the south stables, back against the door to an empty stall at the end of a row of unsettled horses. They hate that you do this here. You hate that it happens and your riding hat slips over your forehead when you tremble a little too hard.

Nanami’s herding new calves today, playing babysitter in their spring pen. The old boss is away at auction so you’re promised privacy this afternoon to gather yourself and dry your eyes and keep your legs from shaking when you finally stand up again. This is worse than usual and spurred by nothing. Sudden and public, it’s been panic attacks and hiding places since you were school age– since before you got this job tending an old woman’s show animals. A two-woman job on paper and a one-woman show in practice, it’s paradise with housing. And the blessed coincidence of a new blond handyman.

Thank god, you shudder as dark thoughts dance their spirals, thank god for another set of hands. Your boots are too tight even after kicking them off, socks and jacket, skin pulled across your ribs, claustrophobic. It’s been ages since the last time this happened but you still can’t brush boars like this, or watch calves taste grass for the first time. When you think too hard about the heartbeat in your ears it makes you shake, the thought you can’t control its volume or pull the broken pieces out.

Still, the hens will be locked up to roost and the cows will get their babies back. Dogs will be watered and cats will be scratched because Nanami isn’t pitiful. He isn’t dying, surely dying, in a broken straw bale and you thank god again.

Your horses are hungry. The headache is back and you haven’t taken a breath in seventeen seconds. Stop counting. Talulah the white mare, older than you, stretches a sinewy neck over the top of her gate to nip but you’ve sunk out of her reach. Irritation or curiosity? What did you even come to the stables for?

“Miss?”

The sun sets in the window behind the saddle hooks and dread begins to drown you. It’s the cumulative weight of every attack since the first, just like always, and always almost too heavy to hold. Like something waiting just out of sight to sink its teeth into your throat. Ghost stories old volunteers used to tell around summer campfires become realities as you rip your hat off your head and hairs with it in an attempt to breathe better, or move better or just be able to fucking see. Hair against your face, straw through the weft of your jeans– legends say they found her body where it laid in the fields, mummified from fear.

“Miss Y/n!”

It’s less his voice and more the knife that startles your face out of your hands. Nanami falls in front of you otherwise silent, kneeling, looming, fist wrapped tight around a knife he’s driven through the wooden stall beside your head.

Immediately, the wheel slows its turning, replaced by nothing, spinning residually under the gaze of a worried cowboy with his hat around his neck. Nanami’s broad chest threatens the seams of his jacket as he measures his breath. His hair has been licked into awkward shiny spikes by happy tongues and he’s still got bribing sorghum in his breast pocket, and you realize too late to stop it, that you’re going to cry.

He drops his hand from the blade but doesn’t move away, scanning and tracing the clammy parts of you. Your cheeks and neck, chest and hands. His eyes dart over empty spaces and return again, “Are you okay?”

“You..” you what? Nanami stares through you like he’s stone until your thought is finished and you still haven’t regained enough sense to right yourself. Your back is flush with wood; hair, jacket and undershirt all riding up behind you where they snagged on the stall door when you sank. Tears spill over your lashes, “you startled me.”

Talulah reaches forward again to get someone’s attention; she’s hungry. Her neighbors stomp in their stalls or snort in your direction, but their frustration is too pretty a symphony to answer yet. You’re alive, the world didn’t stop and doesn’t need you to keep turning it.

Nanami exhales like he’s the survivor and leans forward to gather your things. He brushes straw from the brim of your hat, “I’m sorry.”

“That was scary,” you coo, smiling, melting. Pins and needles of the brain, feeling coming back now. You close your eyes to help the tears fall and lift your hands back to your face.

“I’m sorry, Miss.”

You shake your head and breathe three more times before speaking.“How’d you know?”

Nanami’s shy with his English, but you understand more than he means when he speaks to you. He lowers his gaze to your socks and lifts your boots by their pull straps to sit them beside you– stops short of overstepping– of slipping them on you. “Bad feeling,” he murmurs and fishes a clean handkerchief from his sorghum pocket. A full body shiver and you try to sit up, try to take what the golden hand holds out for you but your fingers meet his warmth trembling and cling to it. His hand is strong and leathered, it’s gentle with you always and he’s never seen you like this. The embarrassment will come later. For now the horses have given up complaining and you curl forward on your knees in a sob when the gentle cowboy lets you hold his hand. He’s quiet. He rests your hat in his lap and leans no closer or farther away as relief runs its course through your veins. He can explain the knife later. Cats, cows, and show ponies can wait five more minutes.

farmhand nanami tag <3

#brainrot continues #imagine the curse he saw to get him to shout like that #imagine the love he feels to get him to lose his cool #nanami kills your curses like it's his life on the line #like #try as he might to leave the jujutsu world nanami cares too deeply about others to let them suffer #being loved by this man #[gunshots]#panic attacks feel like im being hunted for sport #imagine the love of someone whose job it is to hunt them back #farmhand nanami ˚⊹♡#nanami x reader

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