Tumgik
#take a step back and ask yourself if this is really worth getting upset for dng over
ciderjacks · 1 day
Text
weird list of life lessons I’ve learned from age 18-19 because i think I had a character development arc lmao
Things do get better, they also get worse. Nothing stays the same, but if you just keep going then even the worst shit will be ok.
self perception and little individual labels are so unimportant. You are the things you do. Work on yourself instead of worrying about your various categories.
happiness isn’t that hard to find if you’re not expecting anything. So many little things are what make life worth it.
self pity gets you nowhere. You get to decide how you’re going to respond to your circumstances, and as good as it can feel, sitting in a pit of “this is so unfair, I can't believe this is happening to me” only makes you feel worse.
on the flip side: self pity isn’t the same as letting yourself feel bad. You need to let yourself feel like shit, and you need to acknowledge those shitty feelings, otherwise they pile up and consume you and that's how you end up in the self pity hole. When I was walking a few days ago, I felt really weird, and I realized it was because I felt upset about letting the last year of my life go. Once I acknowledged that, I instantly felt better and I haven’t struggled with that since.
It’s possible to find joy in the shittiest situations, this doesn’t make them any less shitty, but it makes you more equipped to roll with them and not get stuck in your own head.
I already said this but seriously labeling your identity is so unimportant. I was so far up my own ass in high school, I had to label every little feeling and experience, and I was so obsessed with how I was perceived, and then I went to college and had to learn the hard way that I just am who I am, and I am what I do. Your desires to be perceived a certain way, obsession over embodying whatever you perceive yourself as, is not doing anything good for you. Identity can be important, but if you’re obsessing over it, maybe take a step back and ask yourself if it matters.
you are never going to stop having to work on yourself, change, especially positive change, isn’t something that happens to you, it's something you work for.
Negative experiences are unavoidable, and important to have. If I’d avoided all the shitty stuff in my life, I wouldn’t be who I am now. Lessons are in everything.
People probably care about you a lot more than you think they do.
20 notes · View notes
roosterforme · 10 months
Text
The Birthday Blues | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley loves celebrating your birthday. It's his favorite day of the year. But you're almost too upset to celebrate, and you don't seem to want to tell him why.
Warnings: Angst, fluff, smut, swears, mentions of trying to get pregnant
Length: 2800 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
Tumblr media
"Roo?" you mumbled when you thought you felt your husband touching you. Was it morning? Or were you still asleep? You must be having a dream, because you felt good. No, you felt fucking great.
"Happy birthday, Baby Girl."
You cracked your eyes open, searching for the source of your pleasure, and then you saw that Bradley was nestled between your thighs, eating your pussy.
"Oh!" you gasped. That's why you felt like you were melting into a pool of pleasure. Because you actually were. You watched Bradley's head bob slightly as he licked long, languid stripes along your pussy. The early morning light was turning his messy bedhead hair a pretty copper color, and when you pushed your fingers through it, he kissed your thigh before returning to his task.
It was your birthday. You were thirty one. And you were pretty sure he wasn't going to stop until you came at least one time on his face. So you propped yourself up on one elbow to watch the show.
"Is this my birthday present?" you whispered as Bradley's mustache brushed against your clit.
"Just one of many," he rasped before kissing his way up and down your slit. When you were sufficiently moaning for him, he wrapped those pretty lips around your clit while you played with his hair.
Each little flick of his tongue had you gasping and asking for more. But he knew your body like the back of his hand, and he was drawing this out on purpose. Every time your voice got higher in pitch, he eased back the pressure until you calmed down. And then he started all over again.
"Roo!" you whined, practically riding his face as he held your hips down on the bed. "Let me cum! It's my birthday!"
The devilish look he gave you should have been enough warning, but a minute later, he was fucking you with two fingers and sucking your clit just right. When you felt the prickle of his mustache on your skin, your head tipped back against the pillow, and you felt yourself squeezing his thick fingers as you whined his name until you were laying in a limp, boneless pile. 
Then you felt his warm body weight on your sensitive skin as he kissed your lips. His mustache was wet, and he let you lick his face clean.
"I need to be on base in thirty minutes," he rasped, making no move to leave you or the bed. "Fuck, why didn't we take today off? It's the most important day of the year."
"Because we burned through all of our vacation time for our honeymoon," you reminded him. 
"It was worth it," he whispered next to your ear before he climbed out of bed. You watched Bradley step into his flight suit before he disappeared into the bathroom. You desperately wanted to coax him back to bed, but you also really wanted Bradley to leave for work.
He kissed your lips one more time and said, "Birthday dinner at seven. I'll let Tramp out before I leave. I love you, Baby Girl." 
And once he was gone, you dashed out of bed and into the bathroom. You dug around in the closet for the pregnancy tests you bought yesterday after work. 
"Come on," you whispered, pacing around the bathroom and bedroom after you peed on the sticks. This could potentially be the best birthday present of your life, even better than a birthday morning orgasm from Bradley. 
When your timer went off and you checked the tests, tears of frustration filled your eyes. You tossed the tests into the trash and got dressed for work. 
----------------------------
It was actually unfair. Finding yourself on the verge of crying at work on your birthday shouldn't have been happening. And now as you sat in your office, swiping tears away, you realized you were just angry at yourself for taking the pregnancy tests in the first place. 
But you had been trying for two months. And you'd spent the last decade trying your damnedest not to get pregnant. And if you knew there might have been something wrong, you'd have stopped taking birth control months ago. Because you and Bradley had been having very frequent sex for weeks now, and you felt like you were disappointing yourself and him, too.
You closed your computer and carried it down the hallway to your lab where your newest coworker Cat seemed to be having a great day. She was laughing with your other labmates just like you would normally be doing, but you weren't feeling like yourself. So you just kept your head down and got your work done. 
You knew you shouldn't have done it, but you texted Bradley and told him you were simply too busy to make it down to the cafeteria for lunch today.
Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: really? everyone wanted to see you. i wanted to see you...
And then you started crying again. Because the negative pregnancy test was getting to you so much, you were letting Bradley down even more.
--------------------------
"I think you should wear the dress you wore on our first date," Bradley crooned next to your ear as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. "You look so good in red."
You wiggled out of his grasp and finished unbuttoning your uniform shirt. As you removed your pins, you said, "Our first date was in the summer. It's too chilly out today."
Now he was looking at you like he was trying to figure out what he had done wrong. "I'll keep you warm. Or you can wear one of my sweatshirts over it if you want to. Or you can wear leggings and your oversized sweater. It's your birthday. And you're perfect. And you're going to look perfect."
But you really weren't perfect. You sighed and nodded at him. "I'll just throw on something casual. You said it doesn't matter what I wear."
You could tell he wanted you to wear that red dress. But you were feeling like punishing yourself for being in a bad mood on your own birthday. And you were bloated. Plus you'd gained a few pounds on the honeymoon and over the holidays. You'd look terrible in that dress right now. But Bradley just nodded his head once as you walked away from him. "Anything is fine, Baby Girl." 
"Great," you muttered, pulling on the leggings and sweater. The car ride was painfully quiet, and as soon as he got on the highway, you knew where he was taking you. You bit your lip to keep the tears at bay.
"Did I piss you off today?" he asked as he parallel parked the Bronco in front of the hot sauce restaurant he'd taken you to on your first date. 
"No," you whispered, closing your eyes against the tears you could once again feel. You were emotional because your period was starting, not because you were pregnant. And that thought was making more tears burn your eyes. 
"Sweetheart, if you're not feeling it, we can go home," he assured you. "I won't be upset. I should have let you pick what you wanted to do today."
"No, it's fine, Roo. I love it here. You did good," you said, trying to infuse your voice with the excitement you usually felt when he surprised you with silly little things. Normally you would have been climbing across the seat to wrap your arms around him, excited that he brought you back here, but instead you climbed out your own door onto the sidewalk. 
"Okay," he whispered a moment later, taking your hand in his larger one and kissing your fingers. "I'll let you order both meals and eat half of each one. I know you love doing that here." Bradley guided you inside as a smile found its way to your lips.
"I do love that," you told him. Soon you and he were sitting side by side in a booth, and he had his arm wrapped around your shoulders. You were pouring out little samples of various hot sauces onto your plate and tasting each one while Bradley sipped a beer. He helped you rank the bottles in order of deliciousness, and then you ate half of your meal and half of his. 
"Let me buy you bottles of your top three draft picks," he joked, taking out his credit card to pay the bill and asking the waiter to add on a few bottles of the hot sauces you liked best.
"Thanks, Roo," you whispered, kissing his cheek. This wasn't so bad. You'd get over this sadness like you had last month. It would just take a few days, and you could blame it on your period. 
Your husband took you by the hand, but instead of leading you back to the Bronco, he crossed the street with you. "Thought we could walk along the pier? For old time's sake?"
You looked up into his eager face in the dim glow of the streetlight. He just wanted to please you, just the same way you always wanted to please him. So you nodded and started out along the pier where you'd spent plenty of time getting to know him and making out with him so many months ago.
When you leaned against the railing and looked out at the dark water beyond, Bradley rested his chin on your shoulder and wrapped his arms around you. "Promised I'd keep you warm," he murmured next to your ear.
You smiled. "You should have put that in your wedding vows."
His soft sigh as he rubbed his hands along the front of your body made you feel a lot better. "I hope you enjoyed your birthday dinner. I wasn't joking, this really is the most important day of the year. My very favorite day of the year. Besides our anniversary."
"I love you even more than I love hot sauce." 
The promise fell from your lips as he chuckled and said, "I hope you don't lose your taste for spicy food when you're pregnant."
The chilly night air started to seep through the fabric of your sweater everywhere that he wasn't touching you. Your face fell into a frown. The dark water no longer looked peaceful. Tears filled your eyes quickly, as if they had been right there at the surface, just waiting for another excuse to drip down your cheeks.
You tried your best to keep it together, but Bradley knew right away that something was wrong. He spun you in his arms until you were facing him. "Please, Baby Girl. Please tell me what's going on. If I made you upset, you need to tell-"
But you just shook your head and pushed him gently away from you, and Bradley looked like you had slapped him across the face. "I'm not pregnant, okay? I'm not. I took a pregnancy test this morning, because my period should have started today."
"Sweetheart, that doesn't matter. We have time-"
"Just stop it, alright?" you asked, wiping away your tears as he reached for you. "Please, just stop talking. Let's go home."
Bradley rubbed his hand along his lips and mustache before he nodded. When he held his hand out for yours, you didn't take it. Rather you just strolled back up the pier toward the street a few steps in front of him, continuously wiping your eyes with the backs of your hands. 
When you reached the Bronco and went to climb in, Bradley jogged up behind you and buckled the seatbelt for you. He didn't try to kiss you, but he did run his thumb along your knuckles as he whispered, "Love you." 
But you pressed your lips together against the pain in your heart instead of responding to him. And then he took you home in silence, not even bothering to choose a playlist to listen to. 
Now you'd upset your husband by telling him the truth about what was bothering you. He probably thought you were insane, losing yourself like this for the second month in a row. Blaming yourself for not being pregnant yet when you knew, deep inside your mind, that you hadn't actually done anything wrong. But you felt the uncontrollable, hateful desire to blame yourself anyway. 
You were still dabbing at your eyes with your sleeves when Bradley pulled into the driveway. He killed the engine and turned to face you, but you were out the door and heading for the front porch before he could get a single word in. After wrestling with your key for a moment, you shoved the door open and nudged Tramp to keep him inside. But when you turned the lamp on, you froze in place.
Your entire house, literally every surface you could see, was filled with yellow flowers. Tulips, roses, daffodils and zinnias. Everywhere. Just like he had done for you last year. You squeezed your eyes shut, but you could feel Bradley's presence behind you. 
After you sucked in a breath, you peeked into the kitchen and saw more flowers along with pink champagne in the ice bucket next to a beautiful confetti cake. Music was playing softly through the small speaker you kept next to the sink, and you recognized the songs as ones from a playlist Bradley made for you when he had been deployed. Your breathing was getting ragged as you sobbed into your hands.
"I'm sorry," Bradley murmured. "I had Nat and Bob bring everything over to surprise you. Give me a couple minutes and I'll get it cleaned up."
"No," you gasped, crying harder. "It's perfect."
You looked up at him through your tears, and just shook your head. He was hesitating to touch you now, and you hated that. And a second later, you were stumbling forward into his arms.
"Don't clean it up," you whispered. "I love it."
You could feel him slowly wrap his arms around you as you buried your face against his chest and sobbed until you couldn't cry any longer. He just held you there while your head throbbed, gently rubbing your back and shoulders until you were done.
As you sucked in a deep breath, he whispered, "You know, you're not alone here, right? You're literally never alone, because I'm here, too."
You swallowed down your guilt and looked up at him. When you nodded he kissed the tip of your nose. 
"I don't want to have to keep telling you every month that you're not the only one trying for a baby. I don't want you to keep thinking that. This is 50/50 here, Baby Girl. You and me."
"I'm sorry."
He kissed you hard on the lips, effectively silencing you before whispering, "You're not allowed to apologize on your birthday."
You smiled up at him, half laughing and half sobbing. "Fine. I won't then."
He pulled you flush against his body and you took his face in your hands as he said, "We've got plenty of time, Sweetheart."
You ran your thumb along his scars. "I just don't want to disappoint you."
"Never," he promised, his voice growing deep and raspy. "You could never."
"But-"
He kissed you hard again. "All you ever do is make my life better. I wouldn't lie to you about that."
Instead of trying to argue with him, you just nodded and let him kiss you until you were smiling. He was right. You had plenty of time to do everything you wanted to do together. 
With Bradley's lips gliding along your forehead, you whispered, "Should we have some cake?"
A few minutes later, you were sitting on the piano bench next to him with Tramp in your arms, and Bradley played and sang Happy Birthday. He kissed you about a million times as he poured two glasses of champagne and sliced into your birthday cake. Then you stood in your kitchen which smelled like all of the floral arrangements, and he wrapped his arms around you from behind once more. You laughed every time he kissed your cheek and opened his mouth for some cake.
"Thanks, Roo," you whispered before you fed him a bite. You'd make sure he had his favorites for his birthday, lemon cake and beer. And maybe with a little luck, in a few months when he turned thirty seven, you would be skipping the beer in favor of something non-alcoholic. 
"I hope you enjoyed the best day of the year," he murmured. And you realized that all the best parts were when you were with your husband, living in the moment instead of worry about what you couldn't control.
Later, when you were ready for bed and snuggling up on his chest, you told him, "You could never disappoint me, either."
---------------------------
Once again, this one hurts a little bit. Because this really happens. Don't beat yourself up, BG. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls.
@hotch-meeeeeuppppp
@swthxrry
@chassy21
@yaboid19
@solacestyles
@avoirlecoupdefoudre
@daisyhollyxox
@callsigndiamond
@harper1666
@throwinsauce
@beebslebobs
@awesomebooklover17
@wintercap89
@whosyourgnomie4
@rosesinmars
@blog-name6996
@bcon24
@wishfulwithwine
@backinwonderl4nd
@monte-carlando
@tetragonia
@gingerbreadandpaper
@emptyloverofmine
@apparently-sunshine
@chaoticassidy
@missmirandafe
@topgunbb
@changlingkhat
@sugarcoated-lame
@callsign-jupiter
@avada-kedavra-bitch-187
@katiebby04
@marantha
@averyhotchner
@abaker74
@andycanbeemotional
@heli991113
@k-k0129
@noz4a2
@tallyovie
@shanimallina87
@starlightstories
@teddyluvs2sing
@little-wiseone
@ccbb2222
@lilyevanswhore
@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o
@hecate-steps-on-me
@xoxabs88xox
2K notes · View notes
Text
Welcome Home
Tumblr media
Based off this post by @simon-rileys :))
Pairing: GhostxReader
Summary: Picking Ghost up from the airport after 3 month long mission with your 4-year-old daughter. What could possibly go wrong?
I did write this on my phone, so please please please let me know if there are any errors. And, as always, no beta!
"Layla!" You say sternly, "stop running around, you're going to get hurt." Your 4-year-old daughter completely ignores you, just giggles and keeps running in circles around the baggage claim.
You sigh and shake your head, grinning ruefully. You can't blame her for her excitement. After all, she's going to see her dad after 3 longs months away. You'd be running around too if your body could manage it. Your heart rate quickens in anticipation at the thought, and you bounce up and down for a moment before getting winded and going back to monitoring Layla.
You watch her little braids with pink bows at the end flop up and down as she runs, zig zagging every which way. Oh well. As long as she is in your sights you can't get too upset. You shake your head as she squeals again, barely dodging an old man as she makes another lap, her chubby little legs never running out of energy
Where she gets it from, you'll never know. You certainly don't have that much energy. Especially not now. You laugh to yourself, looking down at where the small but obvious bulge in your stomach is, the sign of life that you have so carefully hidden with one of Simon's hoodies. Your hand strays to your pocket to touch the ultrasound photos, the ones you got a week ago when you went to find out the gender. You run your finger nervously along the edge of the photos, equal parts excited and anxious to tell Simon you are pregnant again.
You still remember telling him when you were pregnant with Layla. He'd been home at the time, and you had been absolutely terrified. You weren't even married at the time, and had never spoken about wanting kids. You almost had a breakdown when you handed him the positive pregnancy test and he just stared at it in silence. That was, until he looked up at you with a genuine smile and tears in his eyes and asked you to marry him. He didn't even have a ring.
Distantly you hear your daughter shriek, snapping you out of the memory. Your head shoots up, eyes wide and searching for her little form. You rake your eyes over the room, but you see no sign of a brunette in a little pink dress.
"Layla!" You cry, hurrying towards where you heard her voice, at the junction where the wrong terminal meets the baggage claim, "Layla, stay where I can see you!" She doesn't respond, and your heart rate picks up as you start to list off the worst-case scenarios.
"Layla!"
Ghost steps off the escalator, lips twitching under his mask. He had gone the roundabout way, take an extra 15 minutes to walk all the way to the other terminal, just so he could surprise his girls.
Gods he can't wait to see them. Yes, 3 months was really not that long compared to some of his other deployments, but to him, anytime spent away from his family felt like torture.
He never thought he would end up like this, a wife and a kid and a figurative white picket fence. It had always been in the cards for him to die alone. Or at least, he thought it was. And then you forced your way into his life, gave him something to fight for, gave him something worth living for. And gods how he loved you.
He hears a familiar giggle and freezes, snapping out of his reverie. He trains his eyes on the end of the hall, watching the crowd for you and Layla. Sure enough, a little pink ball of destruction comes hurtling around the corner, running full-speed for him. He drops his duffle bag to the ground, and waits for you to show, brow furrowing when you don't follow behind her.
He doesn't have time to dwell on it though, as his daughter appears before him in all her pink, glittery glory.
"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" She shrieks, launching herself at him. He wraps his arms around her, and hold her tight to his chest inhaling deeply. He can feel her small shoulders shaking, can hear her sniffing, can feel her tears on his neck. Guilt overwhelms him for a moment, self-hatred overpowering him for making her cry. Its gone in an instant, his frown vanishing as Layla places a sloppy kiss on his eyebrow, his cheeks are still covered by a mask.
"Daddy!" She squeals again, burrowing her face in his chest. "I mithed you!" Tears prick his eyes at the sound of her voice. He forgot how much he missed her adorable little lisp.
"I missed y' too, baby girl." He presses his forhead to hers for a moment before looking up, his eyes scanning the hallway for you, frowning again when your still not in sight. "Wh're's y'r mother?"
"She was being thlow tho I lef' her." She informs him, grinning happily as she plays with his dog tags, her head resting against his shoulder. He grins, closing his eyes for a moment as he savors the feeling of his daughter in his arms.
"She's slow, huh?" Ghost huffs, shaking his head at his daughter's antics, "well then le's go meet 'er."
Layla grabs at his face, shaking her head rapidly, looking a serious as an over-excited 4-year-old can manage.
"She has an 'uprise for you." She informs him solemnly. He tries nto to laugh, knowing shes trying to be very serious, but fails. She frowns, squeezing his face with her chubby little hands.
"I'th no' funny." She says crossly, " Mommy 'as an 'uprise for you."
"A surprise?"
"Yeth." She looks around, eyeing the strangers in the terminal before leaning next to his ear, "I'm not appothed t' thay nothin', but-" she breaks off into peals of laughter as Ghost covers her mouth with his free hand.
"If mommy says you're not supposed t', then y'r not sup-" He pauses, hearing your frantic voice echoing from around the corner, "y' didn't tell y'r mother where y' were goin', did ya now baby girl?"
She at least has the decency to look ashamed, hiding her face in his jacket as she shakes her head. He laughs softly and shifts, bending to pick up his duffle bag with his free arm. His daughter clings to his neck, her head buried in his chest as he moves down the hallway, heading toward your panicky voice.
"Layla where did yo-"
"I've got 'er luv, dontcha worry." You freeze in your tracks as Simon rounds the corner, your daughter in his arms. You stare at him wide-eyed, drinking in the sight of him af6er so many months apart. He's in a hoodie and jeans, a black mask covering the lower portion of his face. His dogs tags are out, Layla twirling them in her fingers. He looks exhausted and scruffy, his clothes dirty and torn, but you could care less. Just the sight of him alive and well is enough to make you cry.
He drops his bag to the ground and kicks it out of the way, opening his free arm to you. Tears well in your eyes as you launch yourself at him, wrapping you arms around him and Layla. His arm wraps around you and yoi feel him lean bacm, pulling you slightly off the ground, gently swinging you side to side before setting you down.
You stand in his embrace for a minute, face pressed into his side, savoring the feeling of being in his arms again. Your shoulders begin to shake, tears slipping from your eyes as you inhale deeply, the scent of him like manna to your soul. You let out a small sob and tighten your grip, digging your fingers into his side. You stand like that for a few minutes, a little family reunion in the middle fo the hallway, you sobbing silently while Simon rests his chin on your head, Layla's heel digging into your ribs. You pull back a moment later, rubbing a hand across your eyes as you inhale shakily.
"I missed you Si'." You laugh wetly, looking up at him. He doesn't say anything, just grabs you and pulls you in again, your head resting on his chest. Your daughter's chubby hand moves to rest on your head, her fingers twisting your hair into painful knots. You don't notice, to focused on trying not to cry again.
"I missed y' too luv." He murmurs after a minute, his chest rumbling beneath your forehead. He holds you for a few more seconds before stepping back, his eyes suspiciously shiny. "Now Layla says y' have a surprise f'r me?"
"That I do, dove." You sniff, rubbing your nose with the the back of your hand. You look down, biting your lip nervously as you take another step back. You slip your hand into your pocket, fingers closing around the little bundle of photos.
"Y'gonna expla-" His voice trails off as you pull the pictures from your pocket, handing them out to him. You watch as he gently sets Layla down and takes a slow step forward, his movements almost reverent. He takes the photos from your waiting hand, his eyes growing wet as he studies the photos of the 4 month old baby you have growing inside you. He can't read them, but he knows what they represent. After all, he has one of Layla's ultrasound photos in the pocket of his vest.
"Is this-are you…"
"Yes." You laugh, your voice thick, "we're having a baby boy. In April."
He laughs, a rare, genuine one, and sweeps you up in his arms, spinning you around in a circle. He sets you back down but doesn't let go. His hands slide down to your waist as he leans forward, pressing his forehead against yours. His eyes close as your arms wrap around his neck, and he exhales shakily, the warm air making your eyes flutter. You stand like that for what feels like ages, forehead-to-forehead, just breathing in the other's presence.
"Mommy!" You are brought back to the real world by your daughter, who is standing with her hand on her hips and glaring at you, "Th'op hogging daddy to yourthelf! I wanna turn!"
You chortle softly, stepping back from Simon. He huffs and shakes his head, giving you a very 'she gets this from you' type look. He scoops her up as she squeals, positioning her on his hip. He crouches and grabs his bag, hoisting it on his shoulder before grabbing your hand amd interlacing fingers. You step forward, tugging him behind you as you lead him out of the airport and back home.
"Was it a good surprise?" You murmur as you walk to the car.
"Very, luv."
"I'm glad. How would you feel if I tell you we're having twins?"
So here it is, a month later than promised @simon-rileys @dwkfan , sorry 'bout that
Lemme know what you think :)
553 notes · View notes
meownotgood · 2 years
Text
married life / hayakawa aki
Tumblr media Tumblr media
married life with house-husband aki.
pairing: hayakawa aki x gn!reader
genre: headcanons / fluff, just lots of domestic sweetness
note: this post is sfw, but this account contains nsfw content. please do not follow if you are a minor.
Tumblr media
❥ You were the one who proposed first. It started as an off-handed remark: Hey, Aki, have you ever considered getting married? Without fully understanding what you were implying, he replies, I'm not sure, but I wouldn't mind being married to you. Needless to say, you popped the question not long after.
❥ You'll never forget the look on Aki's face when you asked him to marry you: his eyes were wide, and his face was flushed all the way to the tips of his ears. When he tried to speak, all that came out were incoherent stutters, but as he knelt down and hugged you, you heard him whisper, Yes. I'd love to.
❥ You consider yourself fortunate that your job has always allowed you to live comfortably, your salary easily enough for two people to live off of. For the first time in, well, ever, Aki doesn't have to be working himself to the bone all the time. He isn't used to this, and it took some adjusting to, but once he settled in his new peaceful lifestyle, he grew to really take a liking to it.
❥ Aki enjoys dwelling in something simpler, in a quiet sense of home. He finds comfort in the little things, in taking care of day-to-day tasks and the household chores. When you come home, a smile on your face once you see what he made for dinner, the stress leaving your shoulders when he tells you how he took care of everything — Don't worry about anything at all, you can relax now. When he's able to help you, to let his beloved feel at ease, it makes it all worth it.
❥ He's always been a chef at heart, so Aki enjoys making you dinner every single night. He asks you what you'd like to eat tonight before you leave for work, and he gives you a few suggestions if you aren't sure. He makes a mental note of all the ingredients he needs to pick up from the store. Then, he prepares dinner in earnest, expertly chopping vegetables, adding spices and having a taste to make sure it's perfect. He always plans it perfectly so that as soon as you come home, you'll have a delicious hot meal ready for you.
❥ Over the months and years you've spent together, Aki has memorized all of your preferences. He knows what flavors you like, and he remembers what you don't like; he always excludes those things from the recipe.
❥ You're no stranger to breakfast in bed, either; Aki will crawl out of bed as softly as possible, cooking quietly in the kitchen, careful to avoid stepping on the floorboards that creak. He'll brew some hot coffee, waking you up with a kiss to the forehead, a steaming mug and a plate of pancakes in his hands. Good morning. Did you have sweet dreams?
❥ When you arrive home from a long day of work, Aki takes your coat off your shoulders at the door, hanging it on the coat rack. He unites your shoes for you, then wraps his arms around you in a warm embrace, his hand tenderly holding the back of your head. The very first thing he says to you each and every time is, Welcome home, I missed you so much. How was work?
❥ And when he can tell that you've come home stressed and upset, he wastes no time, pulling you into a tight hug the second you've walked in the door. Bad day, huh? C'mere. Let me hold you.
❥ Aki makes you boxed lunches in the morning for you to take to eat at work. He makes sure each one is a balanced meal, with enough nutrients to get you through the day. There's always a hand-written note tucked inside, wishing you a good day at work, and reminding you of how much he loves you. Have a good day today. Hey, there's a festival going on downtown tonight, would you like to go? Let me know later. I love you. :)
❥ If you happen to forget your lunch on the counter, Aki will drive all the way to your work just to hand it to you. He pretends not to overhear when you start bragging to your co-workers about how much of an amazing husband he is, but he's smiling to himself on the entire drive home.
❥ Honestly, he'll never get used to you calling him your husband. It always makes his heart flutter and warmth rise to his cheeks. He still can't believe this is real, that he is married to the love of his life, and gets to spend the rest of his days peacefully beside them. After everything he's been through, he thinks he deserves it.
❥ He frequently admires his wedding ring, turning it over and rubbing his thumb along the smooth surface when he's reminded that it's still attached to his finger. Real, tangible proof of your marriage, proof that you belong to each other. Aki's heart skips a beat just looking at it. Sometimes, whilst you sleep, he'll grasp your hand and admire your own ring, too.
❥ You don't think you've done your own laundry since Aki moved in — He's always done it for you. He quickly learned what goes in all of your drawers, and how you like to organize your closet. When he washes your clothes, he seperates the whites from the darks, and he uses a special fabric softener that leaves them smelling divine. He folds all of your clothes neatly, and if you wish, he'll even pick out outfits for you, arranging everything so that you never have to worry about what you're going to wear in the morning.
❥ Aki makes sure every single chore is handled before you even come home. Dishes? Yep, he's already washed them, dried them, and put them away. Trash? He took it out ages ago. You don't have to stress about any of it.
❥ As he cleans the house, dusting every surface, he admires all of your knick-knacks, all of your belongings that have blended with his since you've moved in. He's extremely careful with your things, setting them back exactly where they were. A soft smile settles on his face when he gazes at the photo frames of you and him, and all of the pictures you've taken together.
❥ There's photos from your honeymoon (his arm is around you, you're kissing his cheek), and your wedding (he's crying like a baby at the altar, his hands clasped in yours). When you took visits to both his hometown and your own, you look lots of pictures of the scenery. And there's even shots from your various vacations, including his favorite picture of you that he's ever taken — You're at the beach, the waves washing over your toes, the sunset illuminating you perfectly. You look amazing, but honestly, Aki thinks you're stunning in every single one. He feels delighted to be reminded of those memories.
❥ Aki's favorite part of housework is tending to the garden. He waters the flower beds with a watering can, and then carefully tends to the soil of the plants. The best part is harvesting everything he's grown — tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, strawberries — and letting you have a taste. He'll chop up the cucumbers into slices for you, he'll make a cake out of the strawberries and feed you a slice. Is it good? Tell me what you want me to grow next year. I was thinking lettuce would be nice, I can make us some salads.
❥ He still has much to learn, but Aki managed to pick up sewing in the time while you're away at work; if you ever rip your clothing, or if the washing machine ever snags a button, he'll sew it back up for you, just the way it was.
❥ Although you tend to be busy, you and Aki have a designated date night where you always spend time with each other. Sometimes you go out to a fancy restaurant. Aki helps you pick out a glamorous outfit, does your hair for you, and stands behind you, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head as he clasps your necklace. Oh, you look so perfect, sweetheart. I can't believe I get to call you mine.
❥ He opens the car door for you when you arrive, and he allows you to hold his arm as you step out. When you sit down, he pushes in your seat for you. And of course, he orders for you, too. If there's something on the menu you said you might want to try but weren't sure if you'd like it, that's what he orders, and he's sure to give you a bite. If you enjoy it more than what you ordered, he'll swap your plates. And if you choose to order something out of your comfort zone, he orders your favorite, so that if you dislike your meal, he can just give you his. Aki spends more time helplessly staring at you than he does eating, anyways.
❥ But, if you're not feeling up to anything crazy, Aki is perfectly fine spending date night staying in. You'll cozy up on the couch, a blanket over your bodies as you watch whatever movie you've been dying to see. Aki pops homemade popcorn for the two of you. When you fall asleep on his shoulder, he turns off the television and carries you to bed in his arms.
❥ Aki wouldn't force you to, but if you wanted to take his last name, he'd be absolutely overjoyed. He would be honored to give you such an important part of himself. A smile tugs at the corners of his cheeks whenever he watches you sign paperwork with Hayakawa, and tears well in his eyes when the two of you visit the graves of his family, reminders that he isn't alone anymore, that you're his family now.
❥ Each night, you have a routine of telling Aki how your day went. Aki recounts everything he managed to get done today, and you tell him about anything exciting that happened, or rant to him about all of your stresses. You rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat, and Aki rubs slow, soothing circles on your back.
❥ He listens intently to every detail, praising you for your accomplishments: You finished that big project you were telling me about last week, didn't you? You've been working so hard love, why don't we do something special tomorrow to celebrate? Or, comforting you when you've had a shitty day: I'm sorry, baby. I don't understand why your boss has to be such an ass sometimes. If there's anything I can do to help you out tomorrow, just tell me.
❥ And yes, Aki knows that you really need your sleep for the busy day ahead, but sometimes, he just can't help but keep you up. It's not his fault you're so perfect he can't stop staring. You certainly can't blame him for wanting to kiss every inch of your sleepy face over and over again, until there isn't a single place his lips haven't pressed to.
❥ If you can't fall asleep, Aki holds you close and hums you a lullaby. It's some dumb love song he heard on the radio that reminded him if you. He can't remember the lyrics, but he still remembers the melody.
❥ You quickly discovered that when he gets really comfy, drifting into a deep sleep, cuddled up beside you, Aki snores a little. Not very loudly, just a quiet, low hum each time he breathes. You're sure he doesn't know, and you'll never tell him. You find it absolutely adorable, and his gentle snores always help to lull you right to sleep.
❥ Before he met you, Aki would have terrible nightmares every time he slept. It was unavoidable — Nightmares about his family, about devils, reenactments of every memory he's ever tried to forget. But now, as he drifts off in your arms, he has nothing but good, pleasant dreams.
❥ Aki will try his best to make sure you are never late for work, offering his assistance in the morning in any way he can, but if you ever are late, it was probably because he didn't want to let you go. He grumbles in your ear when your alarm goes off, his arms around you pulling you closer to his warm body. You say something about needing to get ready, but he just holds you tighter, sleepily mumbling, Just five more minutes.
❥ Your morning routine has been carefully woven into his. Aki brushes his teeth beside you, so close his shoulder is nearly touching yours. As you brush your hair, he ties up his, and once he's done, he's wrapping his arms around your waist and peppering your shoulder with gentle kisses. When you're showering, he writes cute love messages on the fogged up mirror for you to see when you get out. He never forgets to give you a goodbye kiss before you leave for work.
❥ Aki is always paying careful attention to your health and his own, so it isn't often that either of you fall ill. He always reminds you to take your vitamins in the morning, and he makes sure the meals he prepares are as balanced as possible. But, in the unlikely case that you happen to get sick, Aki takes the best care of you.
❥ He can tell you're not feeling well when you wake up stuffy and exhausted. He presses the back of his hand to your forehead, and when he feels the heat radiating from your skin, he shuffles out of bed to grab the thermometer. You have a terrible fever. Stay home today, sweetheart. I'll call your boss for you.
❥ He makes you easy to digest meals, he brings a wet washcloth and lays it over your forehead. Don't even think about getting out of bed, because Aki will make certain you're getting plenty of rest. If you're bored, he has no problem sitting next to you and reading you a book until you fall into a peaceful slumber. He doesn't care if it's gross, you can sniffle and wipe your nose all over his t-shirt and he won't mind. He'll hold your hair for you and softly stroke your back if you have to throw up, and he'll toss your pile of used tissues while asking you if you need some more.
❥ You tell him to sleep on the couch that night so he won't catch your sickness, but he never listens; he sleeps with his arms around you without fail. You'll be alright, just rest up. I'm here if you need anything.
❥ If you come home from a particularly bad day, Aki will immediately run a warm bubble bath for you. I'll have the bath ready for you soon, darling. Do you need anything else? He lights some nice smelling incense and candles. Then, he helps you strip down and slip into the relaxing hot water. Before he leaves to toss your clothes in the washer, he asks if you want him to bring you anything to drink, or if you'd like a shoulder massage.
❥ It wouldn't be hard to convince him to come in the bath with you. He'll let you lean on his chest while he washes your hair, his fingers gently scrubbing your scalp until you feel like you could fall asleep right then and there. And of course, he dries you off afterwards, wrapping your body up in a warm towel he took straight out of the dryer.
❥ Even if it makes it more difficult, he always keeps an arm linked with yours while he does the dishes, or a hand intertwined with your own when he's preparing dinner. If he absolutely can't, he takes regular breaks just to pepper your face with kisses.
❥ Aki also takes breaks from cooking dinner just to slow dance with you in the kitchen when your favorite song comes on the radio. He doesn't have the best rhythm, and he's still trying to get the hang of it — He apologizes for stepping on your toes, you simply laugh and kiss his lips.
❥ When the weekend comes, you and Aki like to spend the night drinking at home, sitting on the balcony and watching the twinkling stars. Aki always seems to end up getting just a little too drunk, his face flushed out, his words slurred when he babbles every little thing that comes into his mind. You're so perfect, you know that? C'mere, I wanna kiss you.
❥ If you go out to drink instead, Aki is always the designated driver. He watches you carefully, making sure you don't drink too much, keeping his arm around you when the bar starts to get busy. He never has a lot to drink himself so that he can drive the both of you home safely.
❥ Aki has no problem driving you anywhere, really. He's probably the best driver you know, and he always asks you if your seatbelt is on before he even shifts the car out of park.
❥ If you ever bring up the idea of starting a family together, Aki immediately turns into a blushing mess. He isn't opposed, not at all, in fact. The idea makes him feel warm inside — Settling down with you, raising a family of his own, growing old together with the one he loves. He'd be there by your side for the whole thing, helping you paint the walls of your spare bedroom, or taking care of the kids while you're away at work. He'll finally quit smoking for good, like he's been meaning to do for a long while. You're both still a little too young to think about it now, he figures, but sometime in the future, he'd love to have that kind of life with you.
❥ Your parents love Aki, that's just a given. He's so polite, kind and sweet, and so willing to help at every turn. He feels truly elated whenever he gets the chance to impress them with his cooking. He'll always participate in your family traditions, no matter how odd or unfamiliar. Honestly, your parents are happy for you, and it makes his heart feel full to know they're glad to call him their son-in-law.
❥ Aki will kill all the bugs in the house if you're too scared of them. You don't have to fear spiders ever again when he's around, just call for him to come take care of it and he'll come running with the bug swatter.
❥ He never, ever forgets an important date. Aki already has the most lovely day planned out for the two of you on your anniversary months in advance, and he's up until 12 in the morning baking you a delicious cake the day before your birthday.
❥ If you prefer, Aki will be the one to schedule all of your doctor's appointments for you, and he has no problem always being the one to call if you're ordering take-out.
❥ He tries his hardest to understand all of your interests, and he diligently remembers even the smallest of details about yourself. Oh, when you were in grade school, you went on a trip to the aquarium that you never forgot? Aki takes you there on your days off, and he always recalls which exhibits are your absolute favorite. He asks you questions about your hobbies, and enjoys watching you partake in them. He'll even try to learn them if he can, so he can enjoy the things you love together alongside you.
❥ Aki tells you he loves you at every opportunity. I love you is the first thing you hear when you wake, and the last thing you hear before you fall asleep. At the altar, he said it as a promise, a declaration to be in love with you for the rest of his life. And he says it now, breathlessly, in between every kiss he places on your lips. I love you, more than anything. You're the one I want to be with for the rest of my life, I'm sure of it. I couldn't imagine living without you, my angel.
❥ Aki is forever grateful to wake up every morning by your side, your face being the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes. In many ways, he doesn't understand how he got so lucky, fortunate enough to live such a perfect life. If anything, he promises to never take it for granted, to love you and care for you until it's all over. You changed his life, and he wants to make sure every single day, you know you mean more to him than all of the stars in the glittering night sky. He's glad to call himself your husband, and he's even happier to be able to call you his.
Tumblr media
4K notes · View notes
Text
so long, loneliness 
warning: hurt/comfort - (reader is ignored, talked over, feeling alienated by friends) 
includes: Childe, Diluc, Thoma
character x gn reader | anthology  
Tumblr media
Childe
he notices ... 
the energetic way you were talking has fizzled to nothing, like a sparkler whose flame was doused in a puddle 
the power of your laugh has faded, been replaced the the obnoxious cadence of those around you 
the way you try to interject, only for the opportunity to be stolen by another 
he notices ... and he won’t stand for it
Group outings were not your jam. You knew this, and yet you convinced yourself to go out with your friends, and their friends, because, well, it had been a while and it was good for you to get out of your house sometimes. Still, you wished it wasn’t such an exposed place, and that you’d chosen a spot more in the middle so it wasn’t easier for you to be left out of the conversation. 
The group had been talking about their jobs for some time now and though you worked in a similar field, it was hard to interject with so much going on. Not to mention you kept feeling like someone was trying to get your attention, but maybe that was your imagination. 
“Oh yeah- I’ve had customers like th-” you started, only to get nowhere. 
“Ugh, one time this lady came in a few minutes before we closed and wanted to order like seven things off the menu!” One of the others in the party interjected, pulling the attention away from you and back toward them. At this point, you felt like it was on purpose, but you had to remind yourself they’d done that to everyone, you were the only one that stopped trying. 
The edge started to feel lonelier and lonelier. The bustling harbor drew your attention since the conversation wasn’t worth your time anymore. You watched citizens pass underneath on the main strip. They seemed to be enjoying themselves as they stopped by the vendors to peruse their wares, or follow the tantalizing scent of freshly cooked food. If you could have it your way, that’s what you’d be doing - at least then you could more easily slip away.
There was a crash behind you, another table knocked a cup onto the ground but when you looked past them you saw a familiar face leaning against one of the decorated railings. Shooting a quick look at your table you realized you were the only person who noticed him but when you waved he didn’t respond. Instead, he looked upset, though you couldn’t figure out why. 
“Um, I’ll be back,” you said to the person sitting next to you. You didn’t really know them, but at least they nodded to show they heard you before returning loudly to the conversation at the table. 
You grabbed your stuff and carefully made your way toward the brooding man standing in the darkness. “This is why people don’t like you,” you teased once you got near enough. The tall ginger took a moment to react to you being there, but when he did his eyes seemed to finally find color. 
“What?” he looked confused, but unlike what you’d experienced all night, at least he looked at you. 
“You’re standing in the shadows with a murderous look on your face; it’s why people find it hard to approach you.” 
“Now hold on, I have plenty of friends,” he shot back as he pushed himself away from the beam and placed his hands on his hips. 
“Sure,” you rolled your eyes but laughed at the shift in his behavior. You weren’t sure how Childe came into your life - it was like one moment he just ‘poof’d’ into existence and never left. The amount of times you stumbled across him was strange, considering how mysterious he made his life out to be. “Anyway, is there something bothering you? You’re face looks --” you asked, mimicking the expression you saw on him before taking a look across the scene as if seeing it from his perspective would give you insight into what made him scowl like that. From what you could tell, the only things visible were patrons of the restaurant, and the tops of buildings. 
“Not anymore,” he responded and took a step between you and what you were looking at, “Come hang out with me.” 
“W-What? Right now?” 
“What better time than right now?” 
“Childe, I’m with people. I can’t just go.” 
“Yes you can. This place is dead. Besides, I’m way more fun,” he winked and took a step closer to you. It made your stomach flip, especially because he seemed to be boxing you in with little room to escape. This was another reason he had so many few friends - the intensity. 
“Maybe -- but --” looking back to the group, you thought about what they’d say if you just left. It didn’t seem right to just dip out ... but ... you did consider doing just that a few minutes ago so ... 
“Mmm, okay, I see where I stand. I get it, leave me here all by my lonesome ...” Childe bent toward the railing, his body crumbling as if the thought of your rejection physically hurt him. 
“Ah! Hold on a second -” you pushed his chest to try and keep him from falling over and making an even bigger scene than his ‘despair’ was already causing, “archons, you know I like you! Now stand up, we’re in public,” you couldn’t help but laugh at the puppy-dog like expression he had, but as soon as he shifted back to the intense Childe, it was your turn to avoid crumbling to the floor. 
“Hah,” he moved so fast. In an instant he pinned you in the corner, his hands gripping the railing to keep you in place while he closed the distance between the two of you, “so you do like me.” 
Blinking, taken-aback, you stammered, unable to form a sentence. The sharp grin creeping across his lips made your skin burn; why was it so hard to breathe? 
“And you said no one liked me.” 
“I - wha-?” 
Childe continued to look at you until his face became unreadable. He was looking at you, but it was ... more than that. It was like whiplash, and you weren’t sure how to survive it. Luckily, the group you came with erupted in noise and, in an instant, Childe moved giving you much needed space to breathe. 
“Hey, come on! Don’t keep me waiting!” he shouted, already half-way down the stairs, hand extended, beckoning you to take it. Biting your lip, you contemplated where you wanted to be. Option one would lead you back to the edge of the table where you had to scramble to be heard, while option two ensured you’d be at the top right next to someone who actually wanted you there. 
Rocking your head back and forth you gave it some more thought until your uncertainties turned into a nod. With a giddy smile on your face, you dashed toward him and grabbed his hand. 
You couldn’t feel it, it was hard to tell, but when you smiled at him he felt a wave of relief because this time it was real, this time, you gave it to no one but him. 
“Try and keep up!” he exclaimed but never ran faster than you could manage. 
Diluc
he notices ...
the smile you had when you first arrived is hidden, is fake and doesn’t look like you 
the way you fidget, leg bouncing, head down, nails pushing back the cuticles that have seen many stressors 
the glances to the tavern entrance, your mind plotting the path to your escape 
he notices ... and he won’t stand for it
The tavern was always loud but for some reason it seemed louder today. Perhaps that’s why they couldn’t hear you when you spoke up, that makes sense? Right? 
Your friends burst into laughter and you appeased them by participating even though you missed what was so funny. 
“How can someone be so hot and so stupid at the same time” you heard as you took a sip of the drink you didn’t want in the first place. It tasted bitter, leaving an unpleasant tang in your mouth. 
“This is why getting to know someone first is important. Ugh, and he thinks he’s all that. You should just break up with him.” 
“Yeah -- but I like him,” the boy lamented across from you, his head dipping toward the wooden table in despair. In the back of your mind you knew this conversation wouldn’t go anywhere. How many times had you tried to convince him to break it off, and how many times did your suggestions go unheard? 
Still, there was a lull, perhaps you could interject, “I know you like him, but maybe this is your sig-” 
“Friend, he literally can’t find his way around Mond,” your other friend interjected, cutting you off. If anyone were looking, they would have seen how much you deflated when the two of them kept talking, unaware you were there at all. 
“It’s a hard to remember!” 
“He’s lived here all his life!”
“So?” 
“AND ITS A CIRCLE!” they shouted as they threw their arms in the air. The sudden loud outburst drew the attention of by-standards and you felt an uncomfortable amount of eyes on you. 
“See, that’s hard to remember.” 
“Honey, no,” they laughed and brought out a laugh from your friend sitting across from them before dropping their head in disbelief. “I can’t with you, hah.” 
“I’m - um - going to go get more drinks --” you said but were cut off, ignored, again. Normally you didn’t mind. The three of you had been friends for so long and they were both a lot more energetic than you so even though it looked like they were alienating you, they really weren’t. It’s just how they were -- there were plenty of times you got the chance to talk -- at least for a bit -- sometimes. With a sigh, you turned toward the bar, their conversation fading the further away you got. 
Most of the tables were filled so only a few spots were left open at the bar-top. A couple here, several loners there, and then you, sliding in between knowing you wouldn’t be here long enough to take one. 
“I’ll be right with you,” the bartender said while you pulled out your money to settle the bill. This was your chance to leave - it was getting late, you had things to do tomorrow - your friends wouldn’t notice if you left anyway. Glancing back at them you saw they were in a heated conversation, unaware you weren’t still with them. Yup, they wouldn’t even notice. “What can I get for you?” 
“Oh, nothing I just-” you looked up and saw Diluc Ragnvindr standing on the other side of the bar. He tugged at his glove before resting it on the counter and you lost your train of thought. If anyone thought Diluc was unattractive, they’d be lying. “Sorry I -” Fumbling with your money, you took longer than you wanted in opening the small bag, “I just want to pay my tab.” 
“Alright,” he left for a moment before returning with a small slip of paper. “That’ll be 400 mora.” 
“Wh-Wait? Really?” You counted the drinks in your head and, based on what you could calculate, that didn’t add up. 
“The last drink you had you didn’t like it, so I excluded it from your bill.” 
How did he know you didn’t like it? Was he ...? “Oh no, you don’t have to do that, Diluc. I don’t mind,” you fingered through the change in your pouch fully intending to pay more than he requested. It would be wasteful otherwise. 
“It’s no problem,” he reiterated and glanced at the table you came from, “Headed out for the night?” 
“Yeah -- I um -- I have to get up early,” you lied. 
“It’s late. Are your friends not going with you?” Diluc placed his hand back on the bar top. If you were looking at him, you might of noticed the way he stared down the loners within earshot of your conversation. 
“No,” you answered with a sad smile, “they’re distracted, and I don’t want to shorten their fun so -- anyway, besides, I’m used to walking by myself,” you added and placed your mora on the counter, putting a few extra coins down as a ‘tip’. Diluc groaned, but didn’t say much else. 
“Charles,” Diluc called out while you put your bag away and turned toward the door. There were a few people standing behind you, waiting to get close enough to order a drink; so you apologized as you pushed through them. When you reached the front entrance, you looked back to your friends to wave goodbye but they didn’t look up. 
Suddenly, a hand appeared on the doorknob. You stepped back to move out of their way but were shocked to see it was Diluc. The look on your face was enough for him to answer the question floating in your head. 
“I’ll walk you home,” he explained so matter-of-factly like it was expected of him to do so. 
Throwing up your hands, you shook your head, “That’s really not necessary. Besides it’s so busy right now ...” 
He opened the door and a wave of fresh nighttime washed over you. It mixed with the smell of cedar and wine, a somehow comforting scent. When he called your name you listened, “It’s late and would be unsafe for you to walk by yourself. I’ll ensure you get home safely.” 
The noise from the tavern seemed so distant now that the outside world was welcoming you. It was like everything paused. Normally you had to jump at the change to interject, but Diluc wasn’t like that. He waited; with his hand on the door and the other extended toward your back but never touching. He waited. 
“If you’re sure,” you hummed, a little overwhelmed from the intensity of him. 
“I am,” he replied and though you couldn’t feel it, though it was hard to tell, when you smiled at him he felt a wave of relief because this time it was real, this time, you gave it to no one but him. “Shall we?” he asked and willed his heart to slow at the sound of your gentle laugh and a soft, ‘okay.’  
Thoma
he notices ...
the way you stand to the side as those around you block you out; you’re kind, and they’ve taken advantage 
the way you shake your head, say ‘go ahead,’ when you clearly wished they would have let you have it - at least once 
the smile you hold when you speak up and the frown it turns into when you’re left with no reaction 
he notices ... and he won’t stand for it
The shops always had the best things. Lately they’d gotten even better; mostly likely due to the lifting of the vision hunt decree that kept the islands isolated from the rest of the world. With less restrictions, the vendors and merchants were finally able to bring in new wares which made the shopping districts boom with business. 
You were excited to go with your friends, especially since you’d had to pick up extra shifts lately. It felt like eons since you last did something fun, something for you, so you made sure to take your time getting ready. 
At first, things were normal, lively, inclusive, but as the evening went on you started to feel left out of the group. While you were still looking at a shop, everyone else was rushing down the packed street to see the next thing. The amount of times you turned to share what you found with a complete stranger, or find yourself scanning the crowd for your group would have been enough to pay for all the items you found. 
Considering it had been a while for everyone to get together you tried your best to satiate the turmoil rising in your chest. It hurt to be left out, but would it hurt more to go home knowing you’d be left alone anyway? At least out here it seemed like you were a part of something. 
“Oh! Look at how pretty! Let’s check it out!” Your friend shouted, her hands wrapped around two other friends as she pulled them after her. You all had agreed to hold onto each other so you wouldn’t get lost in the crowd but as several people separated you from the rest of your group, you realized they had forgotten about it. 
You didn’t recall eating anything, so why did your stomach hurt and your throat feel clogged? Frustrated, you pinched the bridge of your nose only to be knocked to the side by some kids rushing through the bustle. You stumbled into a group of older gentlemen who asked if you were okay. Embarrassed, you bowed in apologies only to bump into some woman who was less accepting of your ‘I’m so sorry.’ All you wanted was to have a good time and, right now, you were doing everything you could not crumble. 
“Padron us,” someone interrupted your swirling thoughts as they grabbed your wrist and began to pull you through the crowd. You looked to see who it was but could only make out their bright red jacket and blonde, bouncing ponytail. “Oops - sorry about that,” he chuckled as he knocked into a group not paying attention to their surroundings, “almost through,” he said, seemingly, to you. 
When the two of you were finally free, Thoma made sure you were safely out of the way before letting you go. 
“Woah, that was wild wasn’t it?!” he chuckled and dusted himself off. He took note of his surroundings and you noted how he stood in front as if to shield you from the crowd. 
It was hard to catch you breath, but you did what you could in the safety of the space Thoma created. “Thank you, Thoma.” 
“No problem! It’s dangerous to be in a crowd like that alone.” 
“Yeah, well I was-- yeah, super dangerous,” you said, biting back the comment you wanted to say, i wasn’t alone, or at least, wasn’t supposed to be. “What brings you here on such a busy day?” 
Thoma ran his hands over his hair, the action pulled on the short red jacket he always wore, “Running some errands. I just needed to grab a few things, that’s all.” 
“You always work so hard. You need a day off,” you commented while your eyes scanned the crowd for your friends. It was a small hope that you’d find them, but it was worth a shot. 
“Haha, I don’t mind. Plus, if I hadn’t been out here I wouldn’t have stumbled across you. So, I’d call this a good day.” 
You turned your attention back to Thoma who was rubbing the back of his neck and sending you a kind smile. You liked Thoma, of course you did. He was always so warm, thoughtful, and capable, it was impossible not to like him. And here he went out of his way to save you from the crowd. Add this to the reasons why you had such strong feelings for him. 
“I guess I do owe you one for saving me.” 
He threw up his hands, “Its no trouble-”  
“Nope. It is. You’re super busy and I took some of your time. So, how can I help?” He seemed a bit shocked by your comment but after a moment he relaxed into soft laughter and resigned himself to accept he couldn’t wiggle his way out of it. 
“If you want to come help me run some errands ... maybe?” 
He looked so cute asking and you could already see his brain working on a way to convince you it was really alright. In the end, there was only one answer you could give him. 
“Absolutely. I’m ready to work!” You rolled up your sleeves and moved next to him, ready to dive back into the crowd for Thoma. 
He chuckled again as he turned about-face toward the slew of people. “Alright then. With two of us we’ll get it done in no time.” 
You beamed, excited and ready to go. “Mmhm!” 
With confidence, you took a step forward only to be stopped by Thoma’s hand around your wrist, “ah, maybe it’s better if I go first and you -- ahem -- hold onto me so we don’t get separated.” His cheeks looked a little red, and he could only manage to glance at you. Considering he was asking someone who wasn’t his partner to have prolonged physical contact with him, you understood how embarrassing the situation was (and hoped he couldn’t tell you thought the same). 
“A-alright,” you agreed and watched as he guided your hand to red fabric that stuck out above his belt. 
“Here we go, ready?” You nodded and took a step closer to him. The two of you shared flickering glances before he steadied himself and pushed forward, “P-Pardon us!” 
You couldn’t feel it, it was hard to tell, but when you smiled at him he felt a wave of relief because this time it was real, this time, you gave it to no one but him.
Tomorrow, you’d tell your friends something came up and to not feel bad about being separated because, even if you weren’t with them, you didn’t end your night feeling lonely. 
1K notes · View notes
Text
Tʜᴇ Wᴇɪɢʜᴛ ᴏғ Yᴏᴜʀ Wᴏʀᴅs | Pᴀʀᴛ 2
➜ Pairing: Aonung x fem!Sully!reader
➜ Warnings: fighting, angst, mentions of body image issues
➜ Word Count: 0.9k
➜ Notes: I almost lost the entire fic
Pᴀʀᴛ 1 | Pᴀʀᴛ 2 | Pᴀʀᴛ 3
Aᴠᴀᴛᴀʀ Mᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ
Tumblr media
You’d been threading together a new necklace and humming a low tune to yourself when your attention was pulled from your work. You looked up at the sound of someone entering the Muri pod, your face dropped instantly as you saw it was Aonung, who seemed hesitant, almost nervous, as he stepped inside. His words from earlier that day still rang loudly in your ears, he was the last person you wanted to see at the moment. You’d busied yourself right after as a means of distraction, but the work your mother had provided could only distract you so much from the building sense of dread for yourself.  
You averted your gaze back to your work quickly, continuing your task.  
“Neteyam will kill you if he sees you here,” you stated, and Aonung flinched at the distaste in your tone. Distaste for him. He didn’t respond, not because he didn’t think you were worth his time of day but because he was unsure what to say. His stomach churned with anxiety and suddenly he felt like this had been a bad idea. Why was he even here in the first place again? To apologize to you, right, but what was he even planning on saying?  
You stood, tying of the necklace and setting it by your feet before crossing your arms over your chest. “If you’re here to torment again then just leave, I’m not in the mood for this.”  
He looked at you, guilt weighing in his eyes as he spoke in a hushed tone. For a moment you almost felt bad for being so harsh on him. Almost.  
“No, no that’s not why I’m here,” he finally said, and you raised an eyebrow. 
“Then why are you here?” you asked  
He cleared his throat awkwardly, “I’m here to apologize,” this time his words came out more confidently, and you didn’t have to strain to hear them, still you scoffed.  
“An apology won’t do anything.”  
“Then how can I make it up to you?” he surprised even himself with the question, he had never gone to these lengths for anyone, simply because he had never cared to. So, what made you so different from everyone else that he found himself chasing after you like this? 
“You can’t.” Your words were like knives in his chest, and he took a sharp breath in feeling himself growing desperate and impatient.  
“Look I really didn’t mean any of those things I said. I don’t think your body is weird, I think it’s beautiful. I think your beautiful- “  
“Your words just don’t come from nowhere Aonung! You said it and you can’t take it back or anything that those words will put me through! So, no you cannot make it up to me!” Your mouth was moving on its own accord, and the volume of your voice going up until you were screaming at him.  
Aonung stood frozen across the room, fists balled at his sides and jaw clenched shut tightly. There was a long, drawn-out silence between the two of you once you’d finished. Aonung was the one to break it after a moment. 
“I don’t understand why you’re so upset over this,” he started, “It was one stupid comment and I didn’t even mean it! You’re being ridiculous-” you strode across the room, cutting him off with a loud smack as you reached out and slapped him clean across the face. The action made his head jerk to the side roughly and his eyes widen. You were just as stunned by your actions as he was but you swallowed your surprise and looked up at him.  
“Get out,” you whispered, glossy eyes staring at him fiercely. He was fuming with anger and you could practically feel it rolling of him in waves as he turned his head back towards you, but you stood your ground, raising your voice again when he didn’t budge, “Get out!” you yelled again.  
This time he listened, spiting curses at you as he walked out, one hand still balled into a fist by his side while the other rubbed the cheek where you had slapped him. Even after he was well out of sight, you stood there staring after him until the tears welled in your eyes began to drip down your face, until your hands began to shake and your body began to heave with sobs. You fell to the ground, one hand clutched against your heart as you cried, strangled sounds leaving you.  
You couldn’t understand why this was happening to you, or what you’d done to deserve it. This stupid insecurity had weaseled its way into every corner of your life, and killed every flower in your garden. You wished so badly to get rid of it and every time you began to think you had it would come back and smother another spark. It wasn’t fair that you had to carry this burden. 
You looked behind you, focusing onto the necklace you’d been working on that now laid discarded on the ground. You could barely make out its shape now through your tears, but you didn’t need to see it to know where each colorful bead and stone laid. It had been for him and you weren't even sure why you’d finished it after the incident earlier that afternoon. Maybe you just hadn't wanted your hard work to go to waste, but now you were sure it would, because you really didn’t see either of you coming back from this.  
Maybe you’d just have to give it to Tsireya instead. 
Tumblr media
@cherridile @oomietopia @yeosxxx
2K notes · View notes
deanwritings · 1 year
Text
Safe Now
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Summary: After a tough hunt, Dean is upset that the reader put her life in danger to save him.
Warnings: Smut (surprise!)
Word Count: 2,251
Gif:
Tumblr media
A/N: Wow! First fic in 5 years. I’m definitely a little rusty but ready to get back into the swing of writing. Hope this was worth the wait. 
Dean slams the door behind you as you both walk into the motel room, you a few steps ahead of him as you drop your battle duffle onto the floor with a thud. 
The room is completely silent and you wince as you try to roll your jacket over your bruised shoulder. You were lucky it wasn’t dislocated, and you were even luckier you weren’t dead, but that didn’t stop Dean from giving you the silent treatment as he moved around you to unpack his weapons’ duffle, no doubt looking for a gun he could take apart and fiddle with while he continued to ignore you.
The ride back from the hunt was excruciating, and not just from the cuts and bruises you earned during this hunt. It was Dean’s seething silence that hurt the most.
It was a werewolf hunt that was suppose to be easy, and for all purposes except the slight hiccup at the end, it was. You didn’t normally accompany the brothers to the fights, your skills being much more useful on a laptop or when it came to interrogating the locals, but Sam was home with the flu, and even with your limited hunting skills, you figured taking you as backup was still safer than Dean going into battle alone. 
For the most part, you stayed out of Dean’s way while he took on the pack of three alone, managing to fire off a few rounds of silver bullets to distract them if they were overwhelming Dean. But the problem arose when a fourth wolf that you hadn’t accounted for emerged from the shadows and lunged for Dean. You didn’t have time to think, let alone alert Dean to the surprise danger, so you did the only thing you could -- you tackled Dean out of the way, getting yourself thrown across the room and into a window in the process.
Your deflection gave Dean enough time to realize what happen and he was able to take out the final monster before running over to you as you struggled to push yourself up. You weren’t use to getting hit, let alone thrown through a window, and it had definitely knocked the wind out of you while also cutting you up in the process. Thankfully, none of the injuries required stitches or other medical attention, and with Dean’s help, you picked yourself up and you left the bloodied scene behind you.
You turn to face Dean who is sitting at the table, wiping down his machete, eyes completely focused on the blade.
“We gonna talk about this?” You cross your arms, wincing at the tight pull behind your shoulder blade.
Your boyfriend’s eyes glance up at you for just a moment before flicking back to the weapon in his hand and you take a deep breath.
“This is ridiculous.” You huff. “You’re pissed because I saved you? Really?” You ask incredulously. “Would you rather I let the werewolf blindside you?” Your eyebrows raise as you stare down Dean.
A beat of silence passes through the room before Dean finally sets the machete onto the table and adjusts in his seat, giving you his full attention. You see the scratches around his eye and dried blood on his forehead. There’s a cut across his cheek that looks fairly deep and could probably use some butterfly stitches and a deep clean once you two had a chance to talk. 
“That’s exactly what you should have done.” His voice is low, his gaze finally meeting yours.
You laugh, thinking you’ve heard him wrong. But of course you didn’t hear him wrong. This was Dean Winchester, the most self-deprecating man on Earth. Chuck forbid someone looked out for him for once. 
“I’m sorry, but you want me to just sit on the sidelines and watch you die?” Your voice suddenly raises, a mix of panic and anger rising like bile in your throat.
“I’d rather that then you get hurt because of me!” Dean suddenly stands, the chair he was sitting in teetering from the sudden movement. “I’d rather you didn’t die because of me,  Y/N!” He takes a few steps towards you and you keep your shoulders square. He was loud, but you were stubborn, and you weren’t about to back down just because Dean was louder and bigger than you. 
“Because I have no idea what the hell I’d do if I had to watch you die.” His voice lowers as he gets closer to you, and your chin begins to quiver at his confession. 
It’s the same thing you fear every time he leaves the bunker for a hunt, or returns to a motel room torn up from the monster of the week. If Dean ever died, you’d have no idea what you’d do without him. And you couldn’t even bare the thought of having to watch him die. That would be a fate worse than death itself. 
“And how come you get to die for me and I can’t die for you?” You whisper as he stops right in front of you. “Because let’s be real here Dean, if one of us had to survive, it has to be you.” A flash of pain shimmers in his green eyes as your words sink in. “You’re the one who saves people, you’re the one who stops apocalypses, I’m just along for the ride.” You swallow the lump in your throat.
It was a truth you had realized long ago, before you had even started dating Dean, and it was something you thought about every time you hopped in the Impala with the boys to take on the next case; that if it ever had to come down to you or Dean, Dean would have to be the one, every time. Same with Sam. The boys protected our world, and you’d be damned if you stood around and let them die just because you were scared. In the grand scheme of things, you were just a girlfriend, a gloried sidekick--not that the Winchesters would ever call you that--but you knew that when it came to the bigger picture, you were just a speck and the Winchesters were the sun and the stars.
“Don’t say that.” He whispered, his green eyes glossy. You know Dean’s self-loathing nature would never let him fully understand just how important he was, or how important his survival was. It broke your heart, but he needed to understand his importance, no matter the cost. 
“Dean,” you take a deep breath, your voice soft but strong as you smile sadly up at him. “It’s true, whether you see it that way or not. It has to be you. Every time.” You swallow and take his hand in yours.
“Well that’s too damn bad because I won’t let you,” his voice cracks slightly as he takes in your words, his hands squeezing yours.
You laugh, humorless.
“Dean, I’m not planning on going anywhere. I’m actively trying not to die.” This earns you a green-eyed glance. “But if I do, you are not allowed to do anything to bring me back.” You shake your head, your voice lighter but the truth strong. “If you give your life to bring me back I will literally find the nearest bridge and will jump off of it just to spite you in the afterlife. So don’t even think about it.” That earns a silent chuckle from Dean as he looks away from you, shaking his head. Yes, your voice was light, but it was the truth. He was the world’s guardian, and you couldn’t let him do anything stupid just because he would be grieving.
He takes a deep breath and looks back to you before pulling you into his chest, his chin resting on your head as you relax into him.
“Besides, I’m safe now, so there’s nothing for you to worry about. I’ll be back behind my laptop screen soon enough.” His chest vibrates as he laughs and you smile against him.
A moment passes before he pushes you away slightly, just enough so he can look down at you with a soft smile on his face. You reach up on your toes and bring your lips to his, gentle at first until his hands reach up to cup your chin, deepening the kiss.
If there’s one thing you knew about Dean Winchester, he wasn’t a man of many words. But actions, that was his language, and you knew he needed to show you his relief and love now that you were both safe and your conversation behind you.
Dean’s tongue brushes against yours, your body pressing into his as you start to walk you backwards. With a practiced movement, you jump up and wrap your legs around Dean’s waist as his hands cup your ass. You lean your chest against him as your arms wrap around his neck, your kisses getting faster, needier.
Without breaking the kiss, Dean lowers you onto the bed and you release your legs from his waist, but keep your arms around his neck as you pull him down with you. Dean lowers his body over you, not putting his weight on you just yet as you break the kiss and start trailing your lips up and down his neck, stopping to suck on the skin under his ear as you feel his hips roll above you. You can’t help but smirk that even after all this time, you still have this effect on him with just a few lingering kisses.
He pulls away to look down at you, relief and lust in his eyes as he looks you over.
You raise your hands over your head, swallowing down the pain in your back, knowing if Dean sees you wince, he would stop the both of you, and you didn’t want that. You needed this as much as he did.
Dean immediately recognizes your action as your silent signal to start undressing you, and he carefully reaches down, his fingers brushing under your top and tickling your torso as he lifts your shirt up and pulls it over your head. His eyes shimmer as he stares at the sight your breasts, and you arch your back as he lowers himself over you, his hands reaching behind you before he starts fiddling with your bra hook as your lips find his neck again now that he’s so close.
The hook finally pops and you shimmy the straps down your shoulders as Dean pulls the fabric away, your breath hitching as the cool air hits your bare breasts. Dean smirks, a glint in his eye as he stares you down while his mouth wraps up around your right breast, your body buckling as his hand travels up your thigh before cupping your middle. You let out a groan, your body arching as his teeth graze your nipple, causing you to gasp suddenly as his hand tightens on your crouch in response. Your core clenches between the different pressures and you whine, “Dean” as you wiggle your hips, needing him to get your pants off so he can get closer.
His lips leave your breast and he chuckles as his hands come to your waist before he pops the button of your jeans. Without missing a beat, you lift your hips as he starts to tug the fabric down your legs until you’re left in nothing but your underwear. At the edge of the bed, Dean tears off his shirt and undoes the buckle to his pants, before stepping out of them, his erection obvious against his boxers. You smile at the sight, and your legs clench together with the anticipation of what’s to come.
“You just gonna stand there or what?” You tease as his eyes continue to roam over you. But with your words, he strides over to the bed and is suddenly hovering over you. He smirks down at you as his hands find the waist of your panties, and you moan as two of his fingers dip inside you.
Breathless sighs escape your lips as he continues to move within you, the pressure building. His mouth is suddenly on your left breast, his teeth biting down and rolling across your nipple as his fingers dance in a maddeningly uneven beat. Your body bucks as his speed picks up until suddenly your whole body is shuddering against Dean’s as your core tightens and implodes inside you. 
You’re panting as your body begins to relax back into the bed, and when you open your eyes, Dean is smiling down at you, eyes shining as he admires his work. 
“Jesus Christ, Dean,” your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath. 
“We’re not done yet, sweetheart,” Dean smirks and leans down to capture your lips. His fingers leave your panties, and this time, he pulls them down completely and tosses them across the room. 
In a quick motion, he discards his boxers, his erection popping free and standing proudly in front of you. 
“Ready, sweetheart?”
“Always, Dean.”
Dean lowers himself back to you slowly, lining himself up before pushing into you. You sigh in relief as he fills you, the aching pressure in your core replaced fully by him. 
He begins to move in you slowly and purposefully. Back and forth, back and forth, hitting deep inside you as a slow burn resonates from within as you moan from the friction. You hear Dean’s voice catch in his throat, but you’re too lost in the feeling of him to fully notice.
His hand finds yours and you lock your fingers around his as he hits into you deliberately and deep, a welcomed change to your usually fast and dirty. But this isn’t about pleasure, not entirely. This is about love, about relief, about safety. 
The knot inside you continues to grow as he hits as far back as he can go, your other hand digging into his back, needing a way to release some of the ache that builds inside of you. 
You moan aloud, the burn becoming too much as your thighs tighten around his waist, holding him in place as you explode around him. Your walls are pulsating,  your eyes rolling back, and he starts up his motion again, a feral sound leaving your lips as he continues to pump inside of you until you hear the sound of his pleasure as his body shudders and he releases inside of you.
Your heart is pounding against your chest, your hair stuck to your slick forehead as Dean’s weight collapses on top of you, his own body rising and falling as he attempts to catch his breath. You love the feeling of him on you after he cums. The weight of his world off of his shoulders, even just for a few minutes as he relaxes into you.
You place a hand on his cheek, under his cut that will need attention once you’re both ready to get up. 
“I love you,” you whisper, the silence of the room now a welcomed friend among both of your heavy breathes. 
Dean leans into your touch and places a kiss on your palm, everything that needed to be said laid out on the bed. 
“Always gonna keep you safe, sweetheart.” 
1K notes · View notes
yearningaces · 3 months
Note
Nyx is a fun sized guy :3
How would he feel if another human was trying to court his s/o? Especially if compared to him, they are big, strong and would be ideal for providing?
AND VICE VERSA
What would happen if another rabbit person tried to yet his attention when he has his s/o??
I love this question cause I get to display Nyx like a peacock the way I haven't yet
The thing about Nyx, is that he's anxiety incarnated when it comes to anything NOT including himself.
When on the topic of himself however? He's so overly confident it's almost arrogance but the way he's confident isn't "you're dating the best partner because I'm me" it's more "of course we're together, the best of humans only deserves the best of inhumans." He'll lift you up in confidence while also praising himself. Package deal.
A big human coming to HIS human with intentions of courting or even flirting??? No. Not allowed. Absolutely not. Stop, turn around, do not pass go do not collect 200$.
To the point he almost seems like a different bun, but really he relies on throwing people off, he knows an actual fight gives him low odds against a human, he would fight another bun though. But mostly he aims to confuse and embarrass or make others nervous as opposed to going straight to an actual fight
More specifically
~
"What is this supposed to be?" Your little bunny boy questions in a surprisingly bold tone, stepping to your side with his eyes fixed on the guy that had asked about going out for drinks.
Nyx, even as small as he was, seemed larger somehow... Oh. He's standing as tall as his hind paws allow, ears perked up, head held high, shoulders back, chest out. What a confident little bun he seemed, and it was certainly enough to catch your fellow human off guard.
"Oh, sorry man, didn't see you there. I'm Jax, I'm a co-worker of-"
"-of my human. Yes I'm aware, we've talked about you over lunch before." Nyx waved Jax off with his hand, turning to look up at you instead. His tone shifting from hinted malice and morphing into the usual softer lovestruck tone. "Speaking of lunch, Honey- you said you wanted to try out that new Yakitori place, right? They have all sorts of cuts of meat and veggies for me too."
There's something about how Nyx is acting, as if Jax isn't even worth the effort of being polite with while simultaneously encouraging you to leave. You'll have to discuss exactly what's up later but don't want to purposely upset anyone, so you turn to Jax to at least say goodbye-
Until Jax steps forward with some gathered nerve that's far too easy for a big guy to have. "Actually, rabbit- I'm going to be taking my coworker here out for a drink."
Nyx doesn't hesitate and doesn't second guess his actions because he springs forward, landing with a quiet thud on the concrete directly in front of Jax, making the grown man stumble back slightly. "Excuse you? I think you actually tried telling this incredible person what to do. No, that's not how you should be speaking to the greatest human you'll ever meet."
To both your confusion and amusement, Jax is stumbling backwards from a bunny half his size just from Nyx's bolstering display, continuing his steps forward, forcing Jax backwards even further. "No, because they're my wonderful partner and I'm theirs. And we are going to have a lovely lunch at the new spot they've been talking about, and we'll maybe go shopping after, and then go home. Alone. Without your nonsensical attitude and demands that honestly don't hold any water."
Jax stumbles back further. Gripping over the curb behind him and landing on his ass with Nyx standing far too close to be a respectful distance, the white and brown fur hybrid glared down, leaning over slightly to make eye contact directly. His eyes hold a challenge to them. "Now where in those plans do you see yourself included? I certainly don't see such a ridiculous notion anywhere." His perked ears twitch back to you, remembering you're there as well, and his tone and demeanor draws back slightly.
When Jax is silent -most likely confused and embarrassed- Nyx turns to walk back to you. He turns with the familiar bright smile and spring in his step as he wanders towards you, raising his hands to take your arm and guide you away, a slight spring in his step. "Come on, honey! I think that's the best pre-meal entertainment we could possibly get."
What a bun, that Nyx.
~
Now, if another bun ever tried, he'd go all out- nvm on explaining you get a two for one scenario here we go!
~
It was certainly a strange situation.
You'd grown accustomed to the burrows being a place where you have to be overly cautious and watch your actions closely as most bunny Hybrid around here were so easily frightened.
But this one seemed... Not.
The dark brown fur ears and tail were fluffier than Nyx's, and she was a larger type of bunny... Were there different species of rabbit-hybrids? There were characteristics in Nyx's family that you didn't see for each bunny out and about... Regardless, the one in front of you had hopped over to the bench Nyx left you on while he darted off to find something he left in his families burrow. So you were alone... Trying not to be too loud or too quick in movements but also trying to get this bunny -Alira- to stop flirting so much.
She had hopped up onto the bench with you at this point, leaning over herself and placing her hands on the bench to prop herself up all while speaking. "Come on, a strong predator like yourself all alone out here? You can't convince me that you're here with some silly bun... I think you're here looking for somebunny to devour" her grin didn't diminish though, apparently she was writing her own narrative in her head despite your many denials.
"I don't know what to tell you, you don't have to believe me but I really just wanna be left alone until my partner comes back."
"Partner?" Her ears perk up as much as they can despite the natural droop to them. "Oh dear, what a flimsy relationship... Not even a mate yet?"
At that you're caught off guard, "A what?" At the feeling of her hand on your arm, you jolt back, almost ironically given your dispositions.
What you're not prepared for, is to have a very familiar white and brown fur bunny boy springing on you out of nowhere and depositing himself onto your lap. Nyx fills your vision, his eyes alert, his smile bright and his ears up. He looks like the epitomy of a parading peacock. "Honey!" His greeting seems overly sugary in tone, his hands pressing into your cheeks and pulling your face down to his for a kiss. One and another and another spanning from your lips to your nose, your cheeks, your forehead, your jaw- "I'm so sorry it took me so long, Grandma bun was just telling me how they wanted me to invite you to celebrate the harvest holidays with us, isn't that sweet?"
After a moment, it's clear he's intentionally ignoring your company but once he sees Alira's hand still on your arm he swats it away, raising your forearm and pressing a kiss where her hand was. "Oh, my poor honey. All of this unwanted attention from strangers that don't know their place must feel so uncomfortable. Why don't we go back to the burrow, hm? I can make us some sweet bread and spiced tea to relax with? And we can talk holiday plans whenever you'd like."
There's something familiar in how he's acting. How any time someone tries to take your attention he purposely acts as if they're not around, as if so unimportant they're not worth noticing...
With that, Nyx hops off the bench, guiding you along with a delighted expression and promises of sweets and soft blankets to cuddle under, promises he would absolutely deliver at that.
110 notes · View notes
schemmentis · 1 month
Text
Like I Can - Pt. 2
Pt. 1 / Pt. 3
Warnings: None
Word Count: 2.5k
Tumblr media
Mel…what are you doing here?” You ask, despite your phone still held to your ear. Barb hastily telling you to call her if you need her before she hangs up underneath your own speaking.
“What am I doin’ here? What the hell d'ya think? You don't answer your phone, Barb said you went home with somebody last night and she couldn't get a hold of ya. I thought I told you ‘bout not makin’ me think ya went and got yourself murdered, huh?”
You lower your phone from your ear. Your arms cross to match Melissa's own stance as she glares at you. “As you can see I'm perfectly fine; not that me goin’ home with somebody is your business anyway.”
“You had me and Barb worried sick!”
Your mouth opens to retort the redhead once more but you're cut off before you can speak. “Uh…hi.” Your date from last night is shyly speaking, her head peeking out from the doorway of your bedroom.
You watch Melissa's eyebrows raise as she realizes your date is still here.
“Shit.” You sigh again. The hand not holding your phone rubbing your forehead. When you'd been gearing up to argue with Melissa you'd momentarily forgot the brutal hangover you're fighting. Until now. This is too much to deal with at once.
Your manners override your hangover and annoyance with Melissa. Your hand drops away from your forehead, your focus turning to the woman of last night as she steps out of your bedroom. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you, I know we had a late night.”
With a smile she's waving your apology away. She looks ten times more put together than you feel. You guess she'd gotten dressed when she first heard Melissa, more than likely. “Don't worry about it. You know how to get a hold of me.” She says easily. She drops a kiss to your cheek before letting herself out.
You see the glare Melissa gives her silently as she passes her to leave. It makes you send her one of your own. Though it takes until the door is shut behind your guest before the redhead looks back to you.
“Don't look at me like that!” She says as soon as she notices.
You roll your eyes. “I'm not a teenager, Melissa. I don't have a curfew nor do I owe you notices of where I am or who I'm with.”
“You do when you got yourself with a stranger!” She counters, her hands briefly waving in front of her in her disbelief at your arguing.
“Whatever.” You grumble as your head pounds. You don't want to deal with a hangover and an upset Melissa and the sudden burning that old knife wound in your chest is suddenly doing. “As you can see; I'm fine. We can argue about the rest of the details another time.”
You expect her to leave after that. You're both far from calmed down or happy about the situation. Plus, you'd really like to go back to bed for a while until you hopefully feel a modicum like a regular human again. Instead, Melissa is stepping past you into your kitchen.
“What are you doing?”
Melissa sends you another glare over her shoulder as she blindly begins pulling out some of your cookware. You ignore the reminder that she knows your kitchen as well as her own without even looking. Even though you don't really remember the last time she was here.
“Sit down.” She says, like you're in her house. “I'll make breakfast.”
“I'm really not—”
“If you don't eat, the hangover is just gonna get worse. Sit down.”
Reluctantly, you sit at your small kitchen table. Normally, you’d be watching Melissa as she cooked. You usually did. Yes, because you were attracted to her. You could admit that much to yourself now. Though that was merely a bonus. Watching Melissa cook was as fun as watching her teach. Her passion couldn't be hidden when she did either. Plus, the way she could move with ease through every step of any recipe was always worth watching. It was her own kind of dance. Especially her knife work.
Today, you're pressing your head onto your arms on the table. Even without your kitchen light on, lit only by the natural light from your window, it's too bright. You jump after a few minutes when something cold pressed to the back of your neck. Your hand reaches for what is there, freezing when your fingers find the warmth of Melissa’s knuckles.
“Cold washcloth.” Her voice murmurs in explanation. “Might take the edge off before the food does the rest.”
She stood next to you for another moment or two. Your fingertips at her knuckles. Her hand holding the cloth in place. You hold your breath without meaning to, waiting for her to speak again. You don't let yourself look up at her. The knife in your chest feels like it's on fire. You don't think you could handle it turning if you looked at her now.
After a drawn out moment, her hand pulls away from beneath yours. She leaves you to hold the cool cloth to your neck as she steps back to your stove to finish cooking. You stay in your place, head buried to your arms, hand holding a cloth to your neck. You stay there until you feel your breathing even out again. Only then do you brace yourself and sit up, blinking at the light again. At least, the smell of bacon and eggs isn't making you nauseous now. It's only a minute later Melissa is setting a full plate in front of you, along with a glass of water and ibuprofen.
“Thank you.” You murmur as she takes the seat across from you. She hasn't made any for herself. You assume she's had breakfast already. You know better than to hesitate in eating even if she doesn't have food. You know she'd gladly stare you down until you ate anyway.
She reaches across the table, taking the now room temperature cloth that you had set down on the table in order to eat. She holds it between both of her hands, idly moving it around in her fingers. It's unusual to see Melissa fidget. You don't have a better word for what she's doing now. Fidgeting. Like she's nervous. You don't think you've ever seen Melissa Schemmenti nervous.
“How was she?”
You cough around a bite of toast, taking a sip of water. “What?” you'd heard her fine. You just aren't certain why she's asking at all.
“The girl.” Her head nods backwards toward your front door. “The woman.” She corrects a moment later, like she's heard herself and didn't like how it sounded. “How was she?”
You blink from over your fork of eggs at Melissa across the table. You'd made sure whenever you were her wing woman she thought you'd gone home with someone. Both to keep her from abandoning her own plans if she felt bad leaving you alone and to keep from letting her know you were alone. Partly afraid she'd think you lame or boring when you had first met. Partly to avoid her asking why once you knew each other better. Melissa had never asked you. Not one time how any of your dates were. Until now.
“Why?” You can't help blurting out. “I mean, you've never asked me about any of the others before.”
Melissa scoffs, briefly looking away from you before looking back again. “C’mon, Hon, I ain't stupid. You never went home with anybody else before.”
You stutter for a moment, a few different answers started and not getting past a syllable or two before you start again. “Yes, I did.” You finally say.
Melissa only raises an eyebrow at you. Silently daring you to lie to her again.
“What was all that don't get murdered lecture for then if you knew I didn't?”
She shrugs. Her fingers are still picking at the washcloth. “You didn't wanna talk about it. So I didn't ask. I played along. I figured if you ever felt like it you'd tell me.”
Her head tilts slightly toward her shoulder. “And I meant it when I told you to always tell me you got home safe. You don't have to go on a date with a stranger to get murdered, y’know.”
Your eyes roll to your ceiling, biting the eggs from your fork in lieu of answering.
Melissa sighs, her hands planting onto the kitchen table with fingers still grasping the cloth. “You didn't answer the question, though. How was she?”
“Mel, I don't want to get into it.”
“So she was either really good or really bad.”
“Stop,” you groan. “You know I hate getting into the details. I never wanted to hear about yours and I don't want to talk about mine.”
“I never got why.”
“Why what?”
“Why the details of my dates and all bothered you so much. You ain't a prude. I've definitely made you laugh with a dirty joke or two before. You didn't mind hearing about Barb and Gerald.”
“Barb did not get into details and you know it.”
“She told you plenty for ya to fill in the lines!” She retorts. “I could barely say a guy's name and you'd practically plug ya ears.”
“I just don't need to know that!”
“You don't gotta tell me details. But was she good?”
“Melissa! Why does it matter?”
“It just does! If you're gonna finally have some dates then they better be treating you right and to a damn good time!”
“Or what,” You start as you get up to put your dishes into the sink. “You're gonna get your bat?”
“Maybe I would. I'd have to set straight whatever woman isn't pleasing you right.”
You swallow the sudden lump in your throat, rinsing your plate to buy yourself time before you have to face her again. When you begin to turn you slow in your movements. Melissa is standing behind you.
Her eyes quickly find your own as your back presses into the edge of the sink counter. Her hands rest on the counter at either side of you, trapping you to the spot though there remains a bit of space between you.
“She did take care of you, didn't she?”
It takes you a long beat to be able to answer. Melissa’s eyes are locked onto yours. Her seriousness etched into her features. Her perfume lightly hitting your senses when you inhale through your nose. If she took a step forward she'd be pressed against you, a step and a half she'd be pushing you back into the sink.
Your fingers itch to release the sink and grip her forearms. Your chest aches for you to admit the truth, consequences of the confession be damned. Your lungs burn as your breath shortens.
“She was fine.” You finally manage to answer.
“Fine.” Melissa echoes. She shakes her head. “You deserve better than just fine, Y/N.”
Daring her to be better than just fine is on the tip of your tongue. You manage to hold it back. “Maybe next time.” You mutter.
As quickly as you ended up so close, Melissa steps back again. “Next time I'm your wingwoman and not Barb. Unless you're really looking for somebody to go to church with.”
“Maybe.” You repeat. “I'm really not looking for a bunch of dates or one night stands.’
Melissa raises a brow but smirks at you. “Oh, so I gotta really play cupid, huh? Find you somebody to stick around?”
“No, no. Really. I'm fine with how things are now.” You lie quickly. You're not. The feeling of your chest constricting the longer Melissa teases you about this is proof enough. Still, you're more fine with how things are than if Melissa made good on what she's saying she'll do. Or worse, if she knew.
“Alright, alright. I'll stop messing with ya.” Melissa says, taking pity. “You still look a little like death warmed over so I won't push too much. Today, anyhow.”
“Thank you. For having mercy and for breakfast.”
She waves your thanks away. “It's what I'm here for. Did you record housewives? We can watch that. I know it puts you to sleep and I can catch up.”
You don't have the energy to keep dodging or arguing, so you gladly agree. You end up leaning heavily into Melissa's side on your couch. You drift even as Melissa loudly criticizes someone on screen, her hand waving at the television before her arm lands around your shoulders to keep you at her side.
“You didn't scare the poor girl, did you?” Barb asks softly as Melissa settles into her seat next to her in the break room. She saw her friend in the morning but decided to wait until lunch to ask her about checking in on you. A Monday Morning wasn't the best time to ask Melissa much of anything.
Melissa scoffs as she takes the lid off her container. “Please. I couldn't scare Y/N if I tried.”
“I meant her date.”
“Who cares if I scared her?” The redhead says as she stabs a fork full of pasta. She rolls her eyes at the look Barb gives her. “No. I didn't scare her but Y/N said she ain't lookin’ for anythin’ anyhow.”
Barbara blinks a moment. “Well. It sure seemed she was last weekend.”
“She scratched the itch. Must be fine for a while now.” Melissa says.
Barbara does her the courtesy of not pointing out how frustrated she sounds. Melissa ensures the courtesy is bypassed though as she continues.
“I asked how she was and Y/N just said it was fine.” Melissa says after swallowing her bite, the irritation slowly spreads across her features and creeps into her voice. Her fork stabs a little harder. “Just fine, you believe that? I dunno why she'd settle. She could snag any bimbo in any bar any day of the week.”
“Y/N is hardly interested in bimbos.” Barbara says evenly. Calmly piercing her salad with her own fork as she watches Melissa from the corner or her eye.
“Well that chick from last weekend didn't look Ivy League.”
“Melissa, please.”
“What? You and I both know she could do better.”
“Better as in with you?” Barbara says as casually as anything else.
“Yes!” Melissa answers instantly. A moment later what Barbara said catches up to her. Her hand freezes mid fork stab, the prongs pressing into the plastic of her container.
“I mean, no!” The hand not gripping her fork lightly slaps Barb on the shoulder. “Why would you even say that?”
“Because it's what you meant to say.” Barbara answers matter of factly.
“It is not!”
“No? Then why are you suddenly so concerned with who Y/N takes home? You were ready to storm over there with your bat when I told you.”
“You said she didn't answer!”
“And you didn't know that when you told me if her date was still there you'd chase them out with your bat and a promise if they did anything to hurt Y/N you'd call one of your guys.”
“I—” Melissa stutters, suddenly tossing her fork into her container. She shoves the lid on and all but throws it back into the fridge. “You don't know what youre talkin’ ‘bout, Babs.” She grumbles as she storms out of the break room and back toward her classroom.
139 notes · View notes
the-s1lly-corner · 5 months
Note
TADC characters x reader crying and the characters are trying to calm the reader down
TADC cast finding the reader crying!
WOOOOOO so sorry for not getting to requests sooner, i was busy today and caught up in doing a bunch of baking orders! yahoo! i made a buncha scones today and churros :)! i might make pretzels tomorrow for myself also ive never watched one piece but im absolutely obsessed with chopper VV
Tumblr media
CAINE:
"now now my dear, what's wrong?" immediately takes you off to a private area away from prying eyes and ears. surprisingly a good listener, i mean he cares about you so so much, youre like. his number one, so of course hes going to be looking out for you. tries his best to cheer you up, regardless of whats making you so upset; another circus member, being overwhelmed, or your brain just being mean... this man would literally carry the world for you.. well a digital world, but the sentiment still stands i think..! just say the word and hes going to do whatever it takes to cheer you up!
POMNI:
very awkward comforter, i think i might have said this somewhere; in fact i may have had a similar request to this a while ago but i truly do not remember and i cant be bothered to look through the sea of TADC stuff ive written... but she would be SO bad at comforting people; like she just stands there before awkwardly patting your back. and thats assuming she goes through with the action, theres a solid chance she just. asks outright if youre okay in this nervous voice trying to be gentle. its not her fault i prommy, shes just bad at comforting people. offers to take you to her room so you have some privacy, kind of just lets you let it all out
RAGATHA:
again i might be biased for ragatha because ive really fallen in love with her since i opened up requests but she would be the absolute queen of comfort. speaks in a really soft voice as she takes you off to yours or her room, sets you down on the bed and lets you lean on her for support (metaphorically and literally!). gives you the softest blankets and pillows, and simply lets you pour your heart out. asks if you want comfort or solutions; because both have their time and place i think. sometimes you want solutions, and sometimes you just want pure comfort. ragatha gets it. and whichever one you want, shes going to deliver on it! will likely take it upon herself to try to solve the issue if its an external thing that made you upset. 10/10 love her
JAX:
believe or not i think he would be the type to try to confront the thing upsetting you yourself, especially if it was someone who had upset you. best way i can explain it is like. you know that one pizza episode of spongebob where squidward stands up for spongebob to that rude customer who made him cry? it would have the same energy, i think. asshole who actually has a heart stepping in to defend someone when there needs to be justice type deal. now if he was the one who made you upset, say by one of his pranks, then it might take him a minute for the guilt to kick in but it would be there... eventually. does feel bad, tries to cheer you up and does try to apologize, i think
KINGER:
oddly enough i think he would be up there in terms of how good he is with comforting people! i say odd because he seems so out of it a lot of the time. but i think the second he sees your tears hes just laser focused. very similar to ragatha in terms that he takes you away and lets you speak. to the pillow fort! lets you cry into the fur of his robe, too... rubs circles into your back. this man carries the same level of comfort that sweet old people carry, if that makes sense. the type of person so say "ive got you" when comforting someone, i think
ZOOBLE:
has to do a double take when they see you crying. like pomni i think theyre bad at comforting... but not as much, if that makes sense. if it was someone who had made you upset, they probably try to tell you that they arent worth the time of day and that youre better than them. strikes them with the curse of them also giving you awkward back and shoulder pats, but its even more awkward and uncomfortable because they have weird hard plastic hands. look, ok. theyre trying, theyre likely trying their best too- honestly i think their main form of comfort is talking shit about the person or thing that made you feel bad
GANGLE:
honestly she might cry with you. admittedly i dont see gangle herself being the best comforter when someone is crying; especially if its someone she cares so deeply about. i think like everyone else, she would gently take her hands in yours and guide you off to the side so you can have some privacy and decency. she does try her best to try to cheer you up; and i think that she would have better luck with it if her comedy mask isnt broken! but if it is, its likely that shes going to cry with you. probably leads to vent sesh between the two of you where you vent to one another and cry. hey, that works too, i think! not to say that she is trying to purposefully trying to make it about herself too, but like. her way of empathizing with you. "oh hey we're both having a bad day, let me show how i can relate to you so you feel less alone" type deal
127 notes · View notes
lexlec · 7 months
Text
not you, hargrove.
summery : After an incident at a party, your enemy does something unexpected.
TW's – alcohol, fights
❕MASTERLIST ❕
Tumblr media
There you were, with a glass of wine in your hand and tears streaming down your face. It would be an understatement of the year to say that you were embarrassed, it would not be difficult for you to say that you were humiliated. And sitting on the porch of someone's house and yelling while the party was raging inside seemed like the cherry on the cake. However, you didn't seem to care, you were too upset to pay attention to it.
You were busy looking at your feet when you noticed that another pair of brown leather shoes appeared in front of you. You lifted your head, ignoring the throbbing pain in your forehead, and groaned when you came face to face with Billy Hargrove. Great, of course he'd be here to see you like this.
— Oh, my God, not you. — You mumbled, though it was still loud enough for him to hear, and stared at the floor again.
It was no secret that the two of you didn't get along. You seemed to be polar opposites. He annoyed you whenever he had the chance. Whenever you were paired up for assignments, you found him unbearable beyond measure. Of course, he had an attractive appearance, and maybe he thought the same about you, but the two of you together in any situation seemed like an explosive mixture. However, this night seemed to prove you wrong.
— And what are you doing here? And why on earth are you crying? Haven't you heard? It's a party. — He said, his tone sounding condescending. You grinned and rolled your eyes, lifting your head only to wipe away the tears staining your blotchy cheeks.
— Leave me alone. — You answered in a quiet and trembling voice. That alone was enough to touch Billy's heartstrings. Did he feel sympathy for you? He tilted his head, leaning down and using his index finger to lift your head so that you were looking at him.
— What happened? I'm asking seriously. — He said, and his voice softened with intrigue and affection. You pursed your lips, arguing with yourself whether it was worth it, and against your better judgment decided to tell him.
— Max Dennis thought it would be fun to convince me to sleep with him tonight at a party, and then had all his friends hide in a room as a prank. Fortunately, I noticed it before something happened, but no one believed it. — You answered, taking a deep breath. You saw how Billy's face hardened. He pursed his lips and nodded slowly, digesting what you just said.
— Hold this. — He said, handing you a cup of alcohol, which he held in his hand. You were confused, but you accepted it nonetheless. — I'll be right back. — He said, but it was a hasty phrase as he headed back into the house.
Billy was gone for at least ten minutes before he reappeared from the house. He sat down next to you on the porch step and took the cup from you again, taking a sip. You turned to look at him and were stunned to see a trickle of blood flowing from his nose and a cut on his lip. One of his eyes looked like it was starting to bruise.
— Oh my god, what happened there? — You asked, reaching out to wipe away the blood, but Billy just waved your hand away. — I wasn't going to let Max and his thugs treat you like that with impunity. It's really shitty. — He said, taking another sip of some liquid that was in his cup. A smile touched the corners of your mouth, and Billy couldn't help but grin when he turned to look at you. He put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you to him, stroking up and down your arm.
— Besides, it's my job to make your life a living hell. — He remarked, making you giggle. Billy couldn't do anything, but he felt his insides turn upside down when he heard that, and the smell of your perfume positively made his head go blank.
But right now he would ignore it and try to enjoy the feeling of how you put your head on his shoulder and put your hand on top of the one he put on your hand.
208 notes · View notes
judysxnd · 4 months
Note
I know you said requests are closed. But your stories are sooo good. Whenever you start taking requests again can you do one where Pedro and reader is his gf and they get in a fight or she’s mad at him and calls him by his first name “Jose” and that’s how he knows he really messed up/she is really mad
Thank you! But I won't write again on Pedro. I'm finishing the requests I have, and then I move on. I will write again, but not about him. I write according to my current crush, since it’s only a hobby I can do whatever I want to 😂🤭
And I am trying to finish those requests, but there's always someone sending me requests! I appreciate it, but it does say "requests are closed"!!!
———————————————————————————
When you are in a long term relationship, you start to notice little stuff that your partner does every single time. For example, when you're drunk and you get home, you like to eat an ice cream. For Pedro, it's ordering tacos. It can also be the way Pedro always uses Spanish nicknames for you, or the way you always prepare your clothes the evening before and not grab something spontaneously in the morning.
But Pedro could add something about you to the list. Every single time he does (or not) something that makes you mad, you call him by his first name, Jose. He knows he messed up when you call him like that. It doesn't have to be something awful, it can happen in a fight, or when you asked him to do something and he didn't.
One time, you came home drunk, and there were no ice cream. As he was preparing clothes for you, you called him by his first name, getting upset there were no ice cream. And that's how, twenty minutes later, he came back from a grocery store open 24/7 with your favourite ice cream.
"JOSE!" You yelled from the basement. "GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!" you were shaking your head "how can this still be happening" you said to yourself.
You heard Pedro's steps getting closer, slowly coming downstairs.
"Yes darling?" He slowly walked to you.
"What did you do?" He looked at the washing machine, and at the clothes you were holding.
"I didn't forget to do the laundry this time!" he immediately said
"I wish you did!" you snapped back "look!" you were holding two of your bras
"What? Did the colour changed?"
"No! Feel them" You gave him the bras. He was feeling them, and you saw that he wasn't understanding. "Don't think something is missing?" He stared at you for a second
"..No?"
"What about this?" You grabbed a few under wiring from the washing machine
"What is that?" He grabbed one, confused
"It's supposed to be in my bras! For support!" You started to get more upset.
"Shit"
"Yeah shit! That's why I put them inside this!" You said grabbing the laundry net that was peacefully left on the table next to the washing machine.
"I'm sorry casino, I didn't know!"
"Of course you didn't you never do the laundry!"
"Can't it be fixed?"
"It's not worth it" You sighed
"I'm so sorry, I won't do it again"
"What this or the laundry?" You joked
"Both if you want" you both smiled
"You won't get away this easy" You said putting the rest of the clothes out of the machine.
"Are they all ruined?"
"Yeah"
"Shit, I'm really sorry. We can go buy new ones, I'll pay" he added
"Of course you will" I laughed "They are a bit too small so I guess that's okay"
"Ha! See? I knew it, I did it on purpose" You got back up
"It won't work"
"I tried" you both laughed "I'm sorry" he kissed your forehead
"I guess it's time for shopping"
"Like right now?"
"Hell yeah, you were not doing something more important right?" You winked
"No" you both laughed
So now you were both leaving your house, making your way to the mall to buy new bras.
Tumblr media
92 notes · View notes
pip-n-chips · 8 months
Note
Tumblr media
This line right here has had a choke hold on me for the last five minutes, sir, on god?
hnnnnfggshshjsk SIR
quick content warnings: pregnancy talk (PC used to be pregnant), Harper being a right fucking creep, kidnapping kinda??
If I remember correctly, IRL, there's a certain amount of time that has to pass before it's safe to have sex again after giving birth (seems like it ranges from 2 to 6 weeks), and Harper would be mindful of that before doing anything to you. (He doesn't want to damage to your pretty little hole!)
But here's the issue- Harper wants to be the FIRST one to fuck you postpartum. He's been thinking about knocking you up with your next kid ever since you got pregnant with the first one, and there's no way in hell he's going to let someone else get that chance before him. He's earned it, he thinks. He's been so helpful throughout your pregnancy; he's been there every step of the way. He deserves it, he knows. You owe him that.
His solution is to keep you somewhere safe, somewhere monitored, where he KNOWS you're safe. Maybe it's a private room in the hospital, locked behind a keycard swipe. You'll be allowed visitors, at first. He's not some monster; if your loved ones want to come see you, they may. But he doesn't like the way some of them look at you, and he hates the way you look at them back. So the visitor hours grow shorter and shorter, effectively cutting people off. (He's also very particular on which nurses come to treat you. This hospital is full of dangerous people, and, unfortunately, he doesn't have the authority to fire whoever he pleases.)
If people ask, he mentions something about irregular results. Uses a lot of buzzwords, says it's not safe for outside germs to come near you. That they need to be extra careful around you, so it's best to leave you be. To rest.
This moves onto the next part, he needs to keep you in his grasp long enough for it to be safe to fuck you again, to breed you again. (And yes, Harper could get you pregnant in other ways- he could insert his sperm via tube/syringe like he's done to many test subjects before, but his cock disagrees. He needs to feel himself inside of you. He's waited long enough. He can wait a little more, the prize'll be worth it.) He uses similar excuses explanations as to why he needs to keep you with him at the hospital longer. He needs to monitor your levels, your progress.
"Something seems wrong," he'd say, "best to keep you longer, for your health."
It's easier to handle when other people come to him for answers, looking to call him out on his bullshit. They have no power here, he doesn't even have to talk to them, if he really didn't want to. (But he's no coward, he can stand tall with a smile that'll make others shy away.) All it takes is a little manipulation to get them to turn around. He's the expert here. He knows what's best for you, not them. If they refuse, well, it's bad to cause a ruckus in a healing environment, yeah? They'll be kindly escorted out.
It's harder when it comes to you, though. It's not like he wasn't expecting it- he's prepared- but it's still disappointing when you start getting restless. You want to leave, he gets that. You want to go home, to be with your kid. And he understands that. But you can't go yet. Not yet. Not until he gets what he wants. Not until you're ready. But, unfortunately for him, your patience runs out before the timer does, and you're,,, less than happy. And he didn't want to do this (he did, he was just waiting for the perfect moment, the perfect excuse), but your behavior starts to get so erratic and upsetting, so he throws you in the asylum. (Poor thing. So distraught, you're a danger to yourself. He had to step in.) Somewhere even more isolated safe, and he keeps you there for as long as he needs.
When the time comes, after one of your examinations, Harper is shaking from restrained excitement. He almost forgets to hypnotize you, drug you, whatever- he's just so eager to be inside you and pump you full of his seed.
And when he does get to... oh boy, it's heavenly. The wait was worth it.
187 notes · View notes
oncewhenalongtimeago · 2 months
Note
I'm so obsessed 'SbITILYP' it makes my day whenever it updates! I wonder when Hiccup will be able to get his hands on some roses, especially the protagonist's reaction to receiving flowers?
Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot pt 26
Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader
Words: 2,983
Berk is a whole new place and you just might have opened up a whole new door for yourself. It’s probably a good one.
Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse, Reader’s POV, Hiccup’s POV, unedited
<Previous - Next>
You kept your eyes glued to the ground.
The leaves of a plant that were scattered across the floor were somewhat recognizable, though you couldn’t place where you’d seen them before. 
Today, though, there seemed to be an excess of them littering the paths around Berk.
You followed a beige dirt path up from the fields, staring at the ground as you carried up a short woven basket full of wheat. It was your day’s payment, the farmer having felt very generous with his store of things.
You didn’t really have a kitchen area, but you weren’t going to refuse a gift. Maybe you could trade with Mrs. Ingerman for something later. It was worth a try.
It had been a while since you’d been into town, having skirted around it for the majority of the day. It’d been a while since you’d seen anyone important, much less Hiccup, and the more time elapsed, the more you avoided, the more antsy you got.
It was noon, and you could feel the sun through your sleeves, a warm thing that made you want to melt into a puddle, like a cat. A nap would be very nice.
It was much quieter than it had been in a while. Things in town had been busy since the Outcasts had been taken into custody. Mildew had been arrested and subsequently exiled and the Outcasts, Alive the Treacherous especially, had been awaiting trial, locked away in the dripping, jailed caves under the Great Hall.
Things had also been very, very quiet and very, very intense. The air was stiff with tension and just about ten times the number of words left unsaid. It was a world of difference compared to the quick gossipy phrases usually exchanged in town.
There was something going on today, though you didn’t care, ready to enjoy some you-time by the cliffs by the coast doing simple jobs and laying in the grass.
Did that have anything to do with the leaves?
You perked up at the call of your name as dirt became wood plank, glancing back towards the fields but not lingering long enough to make out many details. 
You could tell easily, though, that it was Hiccup.
His voice, nasally though it was, set your heart beating like a whole stampede of bulls was pounding dust and you were just about to get trampled encierro style.
“Can I walk with you?” He asked.
You paid only vague attention to his voice in an effort to keep calm, a line of sweat running down your face and hitting the dirt.
There was a strained quality to it; it sounded like he was trying to keep normal. It wasn’t strained in a way that made you believe he was upset so you didn’t worry, more as if he was holding his breath, though for what you had no idea.
Was this how he felt?
“Maybe… Keep looking?” Hiccup hedged, “I’ll follow the path with you, so you dont trip.”
You nodded.
You walked into town like that, eyes on your feet.
The ground turned to wood turned to dirt a few times, your boots tapping and padding against both.
You picked up a leaf once or twice and kept them flat in your palm.
You adjusted your basket twice, though at Hiccup’s insistence, you kept your eyes focused on the ground.
Until you spotted something.. Out of the ordinary.
Something bright red, saturated as the most visible shade of blood drifted down onto the path. It was round, though slightly light at one of the edges, which came to an almost blunt point.
You squinted down at it, bending further with fingers outstretched.
Your fingertips brushed against dirt as you scooped it up, before taking a step as if you were going to keep walking, and then stopping again.
The flesh of it was soft, with what felt like a film on top that was almost like satin, though the flex and feel of it was much different. It felt as if it might split under your nail if you pressed into it, which you nearly did, holding it between the crook of your pointer finger and your thumb.
It was… A petal.
“So…” Hiccup started, coming to a slow stop beside you, “Notice anything different?”
You turned up and looked at him, the sun was inviting and cozy on your cheeks as you pulled them out of your own shadow.
And then you started.
And you dropped your basket, its bottom landing against the ground with hardly a pat.
What you focused on wasn’t Hiccup himself, but more what was behind him. Something you’d missed as you’d walked with your eyes focused on your feet like you were Sherlock Holmes, which you felt funny about now.
It was flowers. 
Roses. Everywhere. 
…Mostly. 
“What…” You said, for the first time.
There were some other species planted throughout donned in multiple different colors, planted alongside houses in various states of bloom, some with thin pipes made of wood connecting to a larger, thicker one, lifted over the lot.
Some in blues and small, wild whites were hanging from planters above, both shelves nailed into the sides of huts and sturdy metal pots with holes in the bottom hanging by tightly woven and painted rope with small strings dangling from the sides.
You could tell that quite a few plants had been the kind repotted from fields and nooks out in the forest, herbs and farm foods planted closer to huts and lined by stones for the sake of convenience, and suddenly a whole lot of things made sense. 
Nearly magenta pink thistle with its spiky green body, hanging purple bluebells, and pink lavender-esque, black spot dotted heather -even one pink Foxglove plant with its many hanging lantern-like flowers sectioned away from the rest in a small metal cage- peeking out from around corners and around huts.
The rose bushes lay large and mostly flowering in large planters, fenced-off using small pikes, fallen leaves and petals bleeding into the space all around, marking your path from the fields all the way to the places in the clearing they’d been planted. 
Up on the hill, you could just barely make out a small rose bush planted just by the pen up by the Chief’s hut.
You had to turn wildly, tracing them back with your eyes, “What…?”
You said it again.
Pale, dry dirt still made up the majority of the clearing, yet leaves and bushes lined the sides of buildings, spilling over upturned, dark earth which dotted the open space, marking boot and dragon tracks across. 
Small carvings of Vikings like gnomes were dotted around the place, arranged in a way that seemed more respectful and worshipful of their depictions than fanciful.
Off in a corner, a small stone fountain in multiple layers, with a little sign which, after many recent, sleepless nights thinking about boys with brown hair and green eyes and stupid freckles and large teeth, you were certain said ‘prototype.’
Vines grew from some thin wood rods to match the metal rods sticking out from the dirt standing, taller than most of the houses, which seemed to be a lot like lightning rods.
“It was a volunteer project,” Hiccup interjected quickly at your silence. 
In your periphery, you could see him step forwards slightly. Jerkily. 
His hands were close together, closer to his torso than away.
“This is…” You started. But you didn’t have the words to express just how you felt. Not yet, when you hadn’t even finished processing the life in front of you.
You inhaled deeply, so quickly your lungs hadn’t time to work it or for you to really feel satisfied by it as you turned yourself bodily, ogling the sight. 
His Dad, the Chief, and the Riders, the Twins egging each other on with dirt gloves, Astrid standing still and attentive as if to involve herself somehow in the conversation the Chief was having with Spitelout, both Chiefly hands pushing back red hair and resting against a mighty back.
Some serious talk about the Outcasts, it looked like, from the way Spitelout was shouting. It seemed that even during the good times, the Chief stayed alert and Spitelout stayed on edge, but there was a softer quality to it here, one that said ‘of course’ and made it seem more funny and fitting than worrying.
“Hey!” You heard the small Larson kid shout as he chased after a girl with bright blue ribbons in her straw-colored hair which held two thick braids together. 
Your attention was briefly drawn towards the indignant shout.
It was then that the Chief briefly turned his attention towards his son, causing your focus to snap back and forth between him and Hiccup with a loud, “Hiccup!”
Hiccup shook him off with his head, despite the fact that you were sure he’d approach, but the look on his face seemed to beg you to keep taking in everything. 
There were dragons lounging on the treetops, all of the Riders’ dragons plus Thornado, off in the far distance, napping on a roof, yellow, which had been covered in soft, grassy plants and clovers, a viking below shouting up at him with a shaking fist.
Stormfly was bobbing her head like a chicken, sitting at the head of a mounted head, which tipped and cracked dangerously under her weight. 
Barf and Belch were off causing chaos, wiggling their heads over a crown of kids while Meatlug was being pampered with fish from a shaded barred and scratched by her rider.
Everyone seemed surprisingly not displeased by the change. 
You could tell who’d helped with the planting by the dirt caked onto their hands and under their nails and by how close they were to the various shovels and buckets piled along the clearing.
Some Vikings had ripped sleeves, others were sweating, arms over their heads to block out the sun, trousers rolled up and helmets displaced off to the side in the shade by huts and under benches. 
Even Mrs. Thorston had come down at one point, harping at other various Vikings and sending googly eyes and comments the Chief either didn’t hear or pretended not to towards his back
You weren’t sure how you missed the sound of chatter, deep and thick all around you.
The two blonde ladies who’d roped you into beadmaking before stood side-by-side, your laundry partner standing tall with crossed arms, gloves dirtied from digging, staining the crooks of her elbows.
She was sewing, needle held over a worn, dirty smock, a dark brown dress and boots packed underneath.
She nudged your laundry partner in the shoulder, pointing towards you with the hand holding her needlepoint.
You even caught a glimpse of the brown-haired fisherman keeping to the more empty alleys and shaded sides of the village clearing, looking as if he’d kind of enjoyed the festivities but also very overwhelmed.
You knew Vikings easily took in the down time given before the storm hit. It was human nature, and with the time to work off restless energy, it seemed a taut line had been released, the air filled with laughter and the bustling, joyful and indignant arguments of children.
The flowers mixed with the paints on the huts and the traditional wood-carved builds on Berk’s homes, which had in fact only grown more complicated since the fall of the Red Death, Berk looked absolutely beautiful. Like everyone here had been born into some sort of eternal festival, and you had just been transported into it; a human in a world made by people who existed beyond reality.
“How did you-... You convinced them to do all of this?” The ‘for me,’ went unsaid. You were too scared to say it, afraid that if you did, the illusion might break and this would all turn out to be a pretty lie, and a pretty lie it was.
You slowly looked back to him, your waist carrying the bulk of your turn.
Someone had just finished clapping him on the back, having must have had at least some exchange of words while you were turned, sharing congratulations as they passed to a hardy woman with a large pitcher of something probably cool and a few mugs. Was it Gobber? 
You couldn’t tell.
You didn’t know Hiccup was such a landscaper.
“Wow.”
“Yeah,” Hiccup said, arms behind his back and stance wide as he shifted his weight on his feet, “They loosened up to the idea after I brought up what they’d do to cover the pipes.”
You noticed the dirt on his elbows, the lack of twine on his sleeves and the splashes of yellow and red paint on his cheek that told you that the color on the houses had looked brighter and more plentiful for a reason.
“I, ah,” You said, stepping closer; leaning closer until you stopped just right in front of him. You could have said something about root damage, maybe, or, or… Anything that would have come out coherent in any sort of way. 
But instead, you felt static, and there was nothing to lead you but the fresh feeling in your chest and the prickling in your toes, intense in a dizzying way that nearly threw you off balance.
“You… Planted all this, for me?” You asked, astonished. Against your will, your face began to heat up in a way that must have looked obvious; you felt blotchy and out of place and absolutely light, airy on the inside in a way that brought you both closer to the moment and into the third perspective. 
You were here and with Hiccup. 
Were you going to do it? You weren’t sure where the question had come from, dazed.
He was looking at you with wide eyes as you grabbed his shoulders and leaned closer, closing your own so hard they must have looked like they had been pinched, though you were incredibly aware.
For a moment, it felt like the whole world was watching, paranoia and embarrassment filling your back, each hair on your neck raising in tune with the number of eyes focused on your spine.
You didn’t have to see to know it, though you spotted people stilling and staring in your periphery.
You weren’t sure whether you did or didn't purse your lips though you knew Hiccup was watching, his shoulders stiffening under your hands.
What if you read this all wrong and you were about to embarrass yourself in front of everybody?
…What were you going to do? Were you really going to try and kiss Hiccup for the first time in front of all his friends and family?
Your back and neck felt hot as if you were sweating, heat fluttering and writhing and squirming in your stomach, rising in a quick crescendo though you knew it wouldn’t be until a few moments yet that you’d feel the first bits of moisture against the small of your waist.
It was too much.
You were brought back into yourself with a jump like the cracking of a stick, able to feel every raw edge like a breeze on an exposed nerve or an out-of-place note in sharp.
“I can’t do this!” You squeaked and slapped your hands over your eyes as you quickly turned and ran away, face burning with embarrassment.
“Wait-!” Hiccup stood, dazed for just a moment, watching your cramble away, running sightlessly back onto the path away from the village through the minor crowd that had gathered there. 
He felt slightly robbed, hand extended. It was very, very hot out and his insides burned in a way that, put together, made him feel on fire in a way that was nearly unbearable.
He stepped over a rose, the rose, a nice enough red one he was sure you hadn’t noticed. The petals had been slightly crumpled and ripped as he’d pulled it from his coat, hastily shoved in when he’d seen you walking up to the village from the fields. 
 It had fallen from his hands after his hands had fallen to his sides as you’d stepped closer with-
Hiccup stared intently at where you had run off to, brows furrowed, feeling very determined.
He needed to catch up to you now.
“Woah,” Tuffnut said, voice dragging distantly, standing in awe a few measures behind him, as people began to laugh and gossip, “That was lame.”
It seemed Hiccup was the only one who’d taken it seriously, the other Vikings happy to play and gossip while what seemed like the most pivotal moment of his life happened right in front of them -No, he was not exaggerating.
His prosthetic creaked as he whipped around, calling for his dragon, “Toothless-!”
He ignored the excited murders beginning in the background, heart racing. 
You’d been… very close.
His dragon was there, giving him as much of a look as there was possible for him to give, as if he himself was somewhat embarrassed by the whole event.
Hiccup gave him a look of his own, wordlessly asking his dragon, ‘So what?’
Hiccup didn’t know what he expected from him as Toothless turned and started trotting away, snorting and grawping as he disappeared into a heavily planted alley, just before he jumped up onto one of the many ramps covering Berk lining the rear ends of some of the houses.
“Aw, come on-” Hiccup started before very quickly running after his dragon, like he did way back across rooftops when dragons were nothing to him but bloodthirsty monsters, arms outstretched, nearly tripping as his foot caught on a tuft of grass, “Toothless!”
46 notes · View notes
fanficshiddles · 5 days
Text
The Redbridge Hunts, Chapter 49
Tumblr media
‘You’ve brought the hunt forward?’ Claire asked, eyes wide.
��Not forward, no. Just decided to hold one on Halloween. I don’t know why I never thought about it before, it’s the perfect night for it.’ He grinned and leaned in towards her, sniffing at her neck. ‘Would be a shame, really. To chuck you out there for any vampire to get hold of you… Though there’s no fun in just having you here.’ He growled low.
‘Loki will kill you.’ Claire blurted out.
Chris chuckled. ‘He can try.’
‘Why would you want to hurt him so much? You know if you put me out there, it will break his heart. What happened with you two? Why can’t you just… get along. He doesn’t want to take your job, I know that this is what’s causing you to do this. You’re angry and upset, I understand that. So will he. He doesn’t want it.’
‘I am NOT upset.’ Chris snapped and stepped backwards, still glaring at her and his jaw was clenched. He slowly started pacing back and fore on front of her. ‘Not that I’d expect you to understand, or him. Such an ungrateful bastard he is.’ He hissed.
Claire frowned. ‘Try me. I understand more than you think. I understand that you love your job, that deep down you care about your students and even the teachers. I know how broken you were when we lost Jeremy. The way you fought for your school, are you really going to just throw it all away by sending me out there into the hunt? You know that Loki really would make sure that your job was no more if you do this. Is hurting him in this way really worth losing your job?’
‘I’ve lost it anyway.’ He snapped.
‘No, you haven’t. You’re not listening to anyone, you can appeal it. Loki will too, and so will I!’
‘Why would you both do that, hmm? You don’t care about me, no one does. No one ever has and no one ever will.’ Chris growled.
‘Of course, we care. You think so little of your brother, but he was mouthing along to your band at the festival in the summer. I don’t know what happened between you too that caused such a rift, aside from turning him against his wishes, but deep down I know he still loves you.’ Claire said softly.
For a second, she thought she saw remorse and a slight glimmer of regret in Chris’ eyes, but his face hardened again and the scowl was back.
‘Enough. He doesn’t love me. He hasn’t since the day I turned him.’ Chris started circling around Claire again, trying to intimidate her more.
‘Why did you turn him? I mean, that was a pretty asshole thing to do. Turning your brother against his will.’
She heard Chris’ footsteps stop behind her abruptly. There was silence for a second, then he started laughing rather manically. She tried to look round, confused. Though Chris suddenly grabbed her neck and forced her head right back to look at him as he leered down at her from above.
‘He hasn’t told you the truth about what happened that day, has he?’ He snarled.
Claire’s fear spiked a bit at his action, though she tried to shake her head, as best she could in his grip. He laughed again and let go of her, much to her relief. He stalked around to her front again, but perched against the table.
Claire noticed that his fangs had finally retracted, which gave her a tiny bit of hope.
‘Of course he hasn’t. He needs to keep up appearances of me being the bad guy.’
‘What does that mean?’ Claire asked.
Chris narrowed his eyes at her, just stared at her, deep in thought for a moment. ‘Do you really want to know the truth?’
‘Of course.’ Claire nodded quickly. ‘Though, please could you untie me first? My nose is itchy as fuck. And we both know that I have no chance of getting out of here without you catching me.’ She pleaded.
Chris raised an eyebrow at her, in slight amusement, but made no motion to move.
‘Please, Chris. Either untie me or scratch my nose yourself. I can’t concentrate properly with it.’ She grumbled at him.
Chris let out an irritated sigh as he stood up and strolled over behind her, he untied her and she straight away scratched her nose while groaning. ‘Ah thank god… Ok, please tell me what happened that day.’
Chris went back to his place by the table and folded his arms over his chest.
‘Things were tense between Loki and I, they had been since Loki found out about me and Lucius being vampires. Though he struggled with the fact that I refused to go down the blood bank route, like Lucius. So Lucius thought taking us out to lunch together might help us bond again…’
Lucius had taken Loki and Chris out to lunch one afternoon, to their favourite restaurant. He tried to get the brothers to talk, like they used to. Though it was a tense lunch. After they’d eaten, Lucius wanted dessert. Though the brothers didn’t want any.
‘I need to go. Thanks for lunch.’ Chris said gruffly to Lucius as he stood up.
Loki kept quiet, he was still torn over his big brother and what to think of him after learning the truth. He had always looked up to him, he loved him to pieces. He still did, he just wasn’t sure if he could handle the thought of him feeding from people…
Loki noticed when Chris stepped outside, he seemed to sniff the air and instead of heading towards his home, he made his way down the street in the opposite direction.
‘I’ll be back in a minute, dad. Just going to the toilet.’ Loki said quickly to Lucius, who nodded and stayed put, while reading the dessert menu.
Loki went outside and followed Chris down the street a bit. Chris then turned abruptly down an alley, Loki followed him but kept his distance so Chris wouldn’t see him. As Loki turned down the alley, he noticed Chris went up to a man that was out the back of a shop having a smoking break.
Chris never said anything to the man, he just lunged straight at him, pinned him against the wall and sank his fangs into his neck.
Loki stared in utter horror as he saw blood drip down between Chris and the man. He couldn’t believe his big brother was willingly feeding from an innocent man. Worse still, he drank so much from the man that he collapsed at Chris’ feet when Chris was finished with him.
Chris licked his lips and took a step backwards, but that’s when he spotted Loki in his peripheral vision. He whipped his head round and his eyes widened, his fangs retracted straight away and his face softened.
‘Loki!'
Loki’s eyes filled with tears and he shook his head back and fore quickly as he started taking steps backwards.
‘Loki… This isn’t what it looks like… Let me explain, brother.’ Chris said in a panic as he started moving towards him.
‘No… no, no, no.’ Loki cried out and turned around to run away from him.
Chris wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, then ran after Loki. He continued to call out for him.
Loki ran straight out from the alley and onto the road, he momentarily stopped and turned to face Chris who ran after him.
‘Brother… Please, let’s talk!’ Chris shouted.
Chris had never seen Loki look so scared and pained before, the tears rolled down his cheeks. He turned and went to run again, but suddenly a blue car slammed into him. Chris’ eyes widened and it felt like time stopped as he saw his little brother being smashed along the road.
The woman driving hadn’t been paying attention, she was on her phone. Even though Loki shouldn’t have been on the road in the first place, not looking at the traffic. She froze in utter horror when she realised she’d hit someone.
‘LOKI!’ Chris bolted over to Loki, he fell to his knees next to him and lifted his upper body onto his lap, cradling his head. There was blood everywhere, Loki’s left leg was clearly broken as it was twisted the wrong way round, and the blood loss was mainly from Loki’s head.
‘No, no… Loki. Lil’ bro. Stay with me. Don’t you dare leave me.’ Chris cried, his vision turned blurry from his tears as he watched his brother dying in his arms, he could sense his heartbeat slowing down rapidly. The sounds from everyone else around, people screaming and shouting for help, someone calling for an ambulance, Chris heard none of it, it was just a blur.
‘Loki…’ Chris sobbed. He gritted his teeth, he couldn’t let this happen. He knew that Loki was against turning into a vampire, he’d made it very clear to both Lucius and Chris, but he couldn’t lose his little brother. He just couldn’t.
‘I’m sorry… Please forgive me, Loki. I have to.’ He whispered and when he sensed his heartbeat become really slow, his fangs emerged and he quickly pierced into Loki’s neck. He ejected some venom into Loki’s blood stream, then Chris tore into his own wrist to make himself bleed.
Chris parted Loki’s lips as he held his wrist up, so his blood dripped into Loki’s mouth. Chris made sure he got enough before he stopped.
‘Please… please.’ Chris whispered as he rocked Loki back and fore. Though he sensed Loki’s heart stop completely.
Chris felt his own heart break into a million pieces, the pain was like nothing else he’d ever felt. He screamed out in anger and anguish, but then, all of a sudden, he heard a low thump… That then began to grow faster and faster.
‘Loki!’ Chris gasped out in hope.
Loki’s eyes flew open, they were a deep red as he inhaled loudly, taking in a big deep breath, his new fangs were glistening white in the sun.
‘It took him a few minutes to come to… to realise what had happened. He pushed me away, screamed at me that I shouldn’t have done it. That I turned him against his will. Lucius came along after that, grabbed hold of Loki to help him. Loki kept screaming at me though, that he would never forgive me for this. That he would rather have died, that he wanted me to die…’
Chris turned his head away from Claire, she saw his eyes were glistening. She could tell by his voice while telling her the story that he still hurt to this day. She even had her own tears that she had to wipe away.
‘Chris… I had no idea. I’m sorry.’ She whispered.
‘Of course you didn’t. Loki needs to keep up the façade that everything is my fault. I’m the bad guy.’ Chris said as his voice hardened again and he blinked hard before looking back at her. Though the anger that had been there earlier wasn’t on his face anymore, Claire didn’t feel quite as threatened now.
‘He didn’t let go of his anger at you for turning him, even though it saved his life.’ Claire said as she looked down for a moment.
‘No. Never has.’ Chris said in a clipped tone.
‘That’s why you went on that rampage, fucking those vampires. It all fits in the timeline.’
Chris nodded in response.
‘Geez, I thought things were complicated with my sister.’ Claire pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to really take in what Chris had just told her.
‘Are you angry at your perfect boyfriend now, for not telling you the truth?’ Chris sneered.
‘I suspect Loki told himself so many times that you turned him against his will, that he really didn't care it was that or his life… Like he’s forgotten.’ Claire said with a sigh.
Chris said nothing.
‘What happened to the woman driving that hit him?’ She asked, though instantly regretted it by the look on Chris’ face.
‘The person responsible for almost killing my little brother... What do you think happened to her?’
‘Shouldn’t have asked.’ Claire sighed.
‘Loki was the only one who loved me, he was the only one that cared. Until that day, when I decided to save his life in the only way possible. I figured there was no point in even trying to be good after that. What was the point? It got me nowhere in the first place.’ Chris stood and started pacing again. Though Claire could tell this time wasn’t with anger as such, he was just all over the place with his emotions.
‘Now, he might be getting my job. The last and only thing that makes me me. Something I’m good at, where I’m respected and needed. I don’t have a soulmate like he does. He has everything. And me? I have nothing. And I never will, all because I really live out what we are, monsters. I only do what my instincts tell me to do.’
His voice broke a little at the end, though he tried to keep it together.
‘That’s not true.’ Claire stood and went towards him.
‘IT IS TRUE!’ He roared at her angrily, making her halt in place. ‘Not for lack of trying, I’ve been all around the world looking for my soulmate, for years. Before you were even born.’ He sneered at her.
Claire wiped away a tear that rolled down her cheek. She swallowed the lump in her throat and took another brave step forwards. She reached out very slowly, as if trying to pet a feral cat.
When her hand eventually landed on his arm, he broke and a few tears flowed freely down his face.
‘There’s no one for me.’
32 notes · View notes
harrywavycurly · 9 months
Note
I’m not imagining Malibu Barbie! reader having a crisis like the song What Was I Made For and Eddie trying to calm her down and remind her of her worth.
Hiii lovey!! This just made me emo because just imagining big bad biker Eddie trying to help Malibu Barbie remember who the efffff she is just 😭🥹🥹 so I hope you enjoy💖
-want in on Barbie ask night? Look here✨
TW: cursing
*Eddie doesn’t get why you’re so upset…you’re Malibu fucking Barbie*
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Hey did you use-” Eddie stops talking the moment he walks into your room and sees you sitting on the edge of your bed with your head in your hands. “I really don’t want to ask but what’s wrong?” You lift your head and Eddie wants to rolls his eyes because of course you’re crying, that seems to be one of your favorite things to do besides bother him.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” Your voice is a little squeaky from crying and Eddie just lets out a sigh as he leans against your doorway.
“Don’t know what you’re supposed to do with what?” He asks as he crosses his arms over his chest, he watches you wipe at your eyes and let out a deep breath, a trick he taught you to help calm yourself down.
“Life.” Is all you say as you lay down on your back and Eddie just shakes his head and lets out a sarcastic laugh as he pushes off your doorframe so he can take a few steps so he’s standing in front of you.
“That’s the whole point of life.” You feel his hand give your knee a light tap making you just groan as you raise your hands up so he can grab them and pull you up so you’re back in a sitting position. “No one knows what the fuck they’re supposed to do so we just do what we’re good at or enjoy.” You close your eyes as a new wave of tears hit you as Eddie talks and you feel bad because you know he hates when you cry.
“I can’t do what I’m good at…there’s no beaches here and…and I’m a surfer.” Eddie rolls his eyes as you open your eyes and look down at your feet as some tears rolls down your cheeks.
“You’re not just a surfer.” Eddie squats down so he can place his thumb under your chin and gently lift your head so you’re looking him right in the eyes. “You’re Malibu fucking Barbie and you can do whatever the hell you want.” Eddie feels a sense of relief when you give him a little smile as you sniffle making him hold back a laugh.
“Really?” Eddie just nods as he stands up and heads to your closet so he can grab your helmet that he notices you’ve added some glitter spray paint to.
“Yes.” You smile as he tosses the helmet so it lands next to you on the bed. “Now come on we have errands to run.” He adds as he heads to your bedroom door.
“Where are we going?” You ask as you grab your helmet and follow him down the hallway.
“The mall.” You raise an eyebrow at him even though he can’t see you. “I heard they are having a sale on swimsuits.” Eddie smiles to himself when he hears you let out your excited squeal.
125 notes · View notes