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#this is like the first thing on my dash after waking up
hybbat · 4 months
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You know I've had a lot of posts on my dash about Lizzie including 3 fics... And all of them are about how she is ignored for the men.
I've not seen any of the content they're complaining about, and I've not seen any of the content they're asking for...
You know you can just... make content about Lizzie. Instead of content about the lack of content. You can just draw her or write about her or make headcanons and essays about her, instead of about how there isn't any.
We get it, nobody is talking about her. So, please just actually talk about her?
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screeching-bunny · 4 months
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may i request some yan!butler/maid hcs? ur fics/hcs r like my lifeline ALSO love love the name Ligma (srry for the poor grammar, english is my first language/hj)
Yandere! Butler Hcs
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Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’
A/N: LIGMA BALLZ. Anyways thanks for liking my name it’s so fucking awesome isn’t it?
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🌟 Yandere! Butler who’s a year older than you and has been serving you ever since your teenage years. He’s dedicated and willing to spend the rest of his life serving you as long as it means being by your side forever. He first becomes enamored by you when you happen to come by the shop he was working at the time. He was enchanted by you and after finding out that you were a noble, he began grooming himself in order to be the perfect servant for you. When the position of being an attendant opened up in your manor, he quickly signed up for it. Yandere! Butler made sure to perform his duties as perfectly and diligently as possible while in that position. It was all to ensure that he would be promoted to be personal butler.
🌟 Yandere! Butler was not able to communicate with you when he was first hired to your manor due to being too low of a rank. He could only stare at you longingly from afar and wish that he could be closer to you. Yandere! Butler during this time period would discreetly follow you around wherever you went. Although he wasn’t allowed to talk to you, he still wanted to feel like he was a part of your life, like some secret protector. While doing this he’s definitely stolen a few of your possessions and stored them for his own personal use.
🌟 Yandere! Butler is so enthralled when he finally gets promoted to being your butler. Finally!!! After all these years he can finally talk and touch his beloved person! He’s so excited that he can’t stop shaking with joy when he hears the news. Every waking moment of his life from this point in time will belong to you and only you. He is willing to do anything you ask of him. No matter how small or difficult the task is, he will make sure to complete it as if his life depended on it. As long as it gets you to look and notice him then it is all worth it.
🌟 Yandere! Butler is only loyal towards you. He is not willing to take orders from anyone but you, even if it’s from your own family members. How dare they try to take away his time and thoughts of you away from him? Have they no shame?! Yandere! Butler would definitely be willing to fight anyone who dares to insult you. He doesn’t care if they are young or elderly, his hands are rated E for everyone. His love language is words of affection, so get ready to hear a barrage of compliments every waking moment of your life. Even when you’re not around, he’s still singing praises about you much to the displeasure of literally everyone else.
Yandere! Butler: “Did you see them today! I swear they get more dashing every time I see them. I wonder if they’ll let me touch their–”
Random Maid: (crying) “PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SHUT UP!!! IT’S BEEN TWO HOURS!!!”
🌟 Yandere! Butler is in charge of your everyday routine. He’s the one planning all of your meals and makes them personally. He will get upset if anyone but him makes you food because he makes sure to plan it perfectly in order to fit your nutritional needs. He makes sure to take care of you as if you were porcelain glass. His movements with you are light and delicate almost as if he were scared that you would break if he were ever too rough with you. He loves to hear you talk about your day and ramble on about meaningless things. It’s somewhat therapeutic to him and it’s like listening to an asmr podcast in his eyes. He takes in everything that you say and a majority of times gives good advice when you need it. If you ever fall in love, never tell him. He will either gut that person alive or give you the worst possible love advice you have ever heard.
“This guy I met at the bakery was super attractive. How do you think I should approach him?”
Yandere! Butler: (screaming on the inside) “You should tell him that he’s gross. I heard nowadays guys find it attractive when people play hard to get.”
🌟 Yandere! Butler legitimately thinks that you are the most perfect person in the universe and that no one deserves you, including himself. He doesn’t care that you may not ever love him, just allow him to stay by your side all of eternity and he’ll be happy. You could tear him apart or take everything he owns and he’d still be loyal toward you. When he signed that contract, he did not only just promise to be your butler but also made a heartfelt vow that everything he does will be for your greater good. He loves the look of a smile on your face and would do anything to keep it there. Murder is not beneath him, if anyone dares to make you cry then he won’t hold back. Whether it be poison, decapitation, drowning, and etc. He’s willing to do it for you, all in the name of love.
🌟 Yandere! Butler takes care of any task that you deem stressful and overwhelmed by. If he sees any type of distraught look on your face he is taking over. Has that business deal been causing you to lose sleep? Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, he’ll make sure to handle everything. Are you getting a migraine while doing some paperwork? Well then, wait right there as he brews you some tea and he’ll get right in on working on it. If he ever sees you sneeze and sniffle then he is going straight mama bear mode. He’ll force you to stay in bed even if you aren't really sick and he won’t listen to any of your protests. No job is a headache to him when it involves you in the picture. So why don’t you just sit back and relax so that he can just take care of you.
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kyeomofhearts · 9 days
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Back For More | J.WW
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+ summary: while adjusting to your new life in college, you couldn't help but attract the attention of wonwoo, someone who you happen to have a history with.
+ pairing: badboy!wonwoo x fem!reader
+ word count: 2.7k
+ content: badboy!wonwoo, college au, mature language, flirting (wonwoo is a menace), jealousy, smut will be in the next part lol.
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV
[ᝰ.ᐟ] i hope you guys enjoy this! it's most likely going to be a two-parter so definitely let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! i would greatly appreciate it if you guys reblogged (maybe with comments too ^^) since i thrive on your guys' validation :)
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You were tired, very tired.
Granted, this was your own doing. Maybe if you hadn't pushed your responsibilities to the side last night you wouldn't have had to wake up so early to study for an exam, but what's done is done. This whole college thing was not going so well, to say the least. Sure, it's only the beginning of the second semester, but you already feel exhausted by all of your class workloads.
Just ten more minutes of this boring lecture and you could finally go home and crawl into bed. But… that's only if you avoid him today. Which now that you’re thinking about it, you hope he isn’t waiting for you outside, again. That would be the last thing you needed today.
With that being said, things have felt a little weird if you were being honest. Of course, this was your first year of university, so things were bound to feel new and different. But there was something, or rather someone that was making you feel strange.
Around two weeks ago you noticed that Wonwoo, an old classmate of yours, had recently started to become a bit friendly towards you. While that normally wouldn’t be considered weird, you couldn’t help but feel skeptical about his intentions. You knew the kind of people he surrounded himself with, and especially the girls he would go after; which was the exact opposite of you. So what exactly did he want from you?
What also makes this situation more odd is that you’ve basically known Wonwoo for your whole life. Of course, you don’t actually know him, you just happened to go to the same elementary, middle, and high school (which is insane if you think about it). Acquaintance is a perfect word to describe your relationship with him, nothing more nothing less. So yeah… it’s a little weird when the guy you have been around for (almost) your whole life is suddenly trying to befriend you, there definitely had to be something wrong with him.
All you knew about Wonwoo was that he was on the more reserved and quiet side; mainly keeping to himself most of the time. His group of friends was quite the opposite of him, which always made you wonder how he even became friends with them in the first place.
Seeing how the lecture was ending soon, you started to pack your stuff; you were more than ready to dash straight out of the classroom. Having finished all of your assignments for today, you had nothing left to worry about. So once the professor had made her goodbyes, you made a straight beeline to the door, nothing was going to hold you back from your long-awaited nap. Your pace was brisk, attempting to avoid the backed-up main exit, you decided to go to the opposite door. The walk back to your apartment wasn’t too bad either, most of the time you saw it as a way to daydream and listen to music. So while you scrolled through your various playlists, you happened to miss the (very obvious) figure following you.
Wonwoo called out your name a few times until it finally dawned on him that you had your headphones on. He took a few long strides to catch up to you; he was very adamant on getting your attention this morning. With ease, he quickly plucked your headphones off of your head.
“What are we listening to today?” He said while adjusting the headphones on his head. It took you a second to fully process what he was doing. You knew he was doing it to provoke you, but you were determined to not let that happen today. So to his surprise, you simply kept walking. You figured that he would continue with his antics if you gave him the reaction that he wanted so you did the opposite, you ignored him.
What shocked him the most was seeing you pull out an old pair of earbuds and plugging them into your phone. He was dumbfounded to say the least, how were you so prepared and why were you ignoring him?
And again, he quickly caught up with a few simple steps. He took your headphones off of his head and tapped them against your shoulder.
With a tired sigh, you turned around to face him but couldn’t help but admire his face. You really didn't want to lose that ‘expressionless’ look you were going for (to help you ignore him of course), but that small smile of his was enough to crack you down. It's like he knew that it was your one weakness when it came to him. This was the most annoying part of it all. Anytime he smiled or looked at you, a tiny part inside you secretly liked it, making you crave his attention at times.
Objectively speaking, Wonwoo was very handsome. That was something you could never deny, you would even go as far as to say that he was your type but you didn't particularly like the people he called his ‘friends’ so you were stuck in a weird limbo.
“Is there something on my face, birdy?”
You scoffed at the nickname. “I told you not to call me that.”
Wonwoo’s eyes were looking straight into yours, a smirk slowly creeping up to his lips. It didn't help that he was looking really good today either, his messy hair combined with the whole biker fit did wonders for your eyes. He was about to say something before you heard your ringtone go off, evidently cutting him off.
Oh.
It was Hyunwoo. That's odd... you finished your shared project with him rather early, what could he be calling you about? Either way, you answered the random call in front of a rather annoyed Wonwoo.
"Hello?"
"Heyyy yn, I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch later today?" You couldn't help but feel your eyes widen at his sudden question. Since when did he want to hang out with you? Last time you checked he had a plethora of girls that he was talking to... maybe he was interested in you? No, you shouldn't get too ahead of yourself...
"Um... let me check if I have anything to do first. Can I call you back?" You knew that you sounded nervous but how else were you supposed to feel when the cute guy from your physics class was literally asking you to eat lunch with him?
As soon as you ended the call, you felt Wonwoo's arm snake its way down to your waist. You couldn’t help but yelp at the sudden intimate contact. Chuckling at your reaction, he leaned down, closer to your ear. “Who was that?”
"No one." You stated simply, it wasn't his business anyway.
"Hm, okay," Wonwoo rested his head on your shoulder, continuing to speak lowly in your ear. "I'll remember that birdy."
Before you could even come up with something to counter him, he decided to speak up once again.
"Well, I do have something rather important to tell you." His voice was so calm and soothing, you could honestly listen to it for hours on end if you had the chance.
"What is it?" You hoped he couldn't sense your rather, embarrassing, curiosity.
"Heard you used to have a little crush on me," his voice was evidently smug, knowing that this would surely get a rise out of you.
Which it did.
Your face burned at the memories of when you used to have a crush on Wonwoo. But, that had to be in fourth grade… so how could he have known about that? Nonetheless, you scoffed at his statement, not wanting to know that you were a little embarrassed by the sudden reminder.
“Key word, had,” you rolled your eyes at him. This did make you curious though, who could have possibly told him that? So you asked him exactly that.
“How do you even know about that?” His smile never faltered even as you lightly pushed his hand away from your waist. If anything, this made him want to touch you even more.
“I have my ways,” he stated simply. Of course, he does. You hated when he would shrug things off, now this was going to bother you for the entire week!
One thing about Wonwoo was that he has always been curious about you, this interest stemming back all the way to your elementary days. This curiosity eventually intensified in junior year of high school when you began to show your blatant distaste towards him. He just had to get to know you.
He looked down at you, his face was unreadable like always. You never knew what was going on in that mind of his.
"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be hanging out with your actual friends?" Sometimes you couldn't help but blurt out your thoughts to him even if they sounded a bit rude. His face faltered for a split second, probably caught off guard by the random question. Shoot, you really didn’t mean to say that out loud. Although, it looks like Wonwoo didn’t take any offense to your sudden question. If anything, it made him... smile?
“I am hanging out with my friend,” he stopped you to face him, “which is you.” You rolled your eyes at him. That had to be the corniest thing he has ever said to you if you were being honest. You just hated that giddy feeling he would give you any time he said something remotely cheesy.
"Ugh, you're so dumb," you groaned while checking the time on your phone. It was getting close to noon and you hadn't responded to Hyunwoo's question from earlier. Maybe it was best if you didn't go... who knows what he wanted from you. If you were being completely honest, you didn't know if you had it in you to see other people at the moment, aside from Wonwoo of course.
"Have somewhere to be?" Wonwoo asked, a hint of concern peeking through his voice.
"No, thank god, but I do have a scheduled nap to get to so if you don't mind-" you were cut off by the sound of an engine revving, making your body jump at the unexpected noise. You turned to see where the source of the commotion was coming from but then realized it was coming from a group of bikers nearby; most likely Wonwoo's friends.
Or so you thought?
Wonwoo didn't seem too pleased with the group that was getting closer to where the two of you were. On the contrary, Wonwoo looked pissed. His jaw was visibly clenched, the gentle grip he had on your waist tightened, and his eyes lost that playful spark he had earlier. You couldn't help but feel guilty for thinking about how hot Wonwoo looked when he was angry. Of course, you would never want to be on the receiving end of his anger but seeing it on the sidelines was quite... interesting.
Wait. This might actually be serious, so it's best if you leave before anything crazy happens.
"I think I'm going to head out now..." you said quietly as you tried to slip away from Wonwoo's (awfully) strong grasp.
He turned to look at you, his eyes softening once they landed on your figure. Why did they have to come and bother him at this exact moment? He knew that whatever was going to happen was not going to be pretty, but he found himself reluctant to let you go.
Before truly letting you go, he quietly asked, "Are you sure? I can take you home if you want me to." As soft as his voice was, he still managed to sound composed which was comforting considering the situation.
You nodded in response, "I don't live that far from here so it's fine, thank you for the offer though." You managed to flash him a small, awkward smile before turning away from him and heading toward the direction of your apartment. You didn't know what exactly was going on between those guys and Wonwoo but it for sure wasn't friendly. Although it wasn't exactly your issue, you couldn't help but feel worried about Wonwoo, even if he was a pain in the ass sometimes.
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Much to your dismay, that scheduled nap never came your way that day.
You blame Wonwoo, how were you supposed to sleep peacefully knowing he was probably getting jumped? Okay, you might be jumping to conclusions but what else were you supposed to think about when he was visibly angry at the mere sight of those guys?
Realistically speaking, it's only been two days since that whole incident happened. Granted, you haven't seen Wonwoo since then but that could mean a lot of things.
[...]
While you were in line to get a smoothie from one of the pop-up shops near the campus, you felt a sudden tap on your shoulder.
"Did my little birdy miss me?" You felt Wonwoo say right next to your ear, his breath fanning across your earlobe. It sent a wave of tingles down your spine, making you shudder in turn. Though you weren't a fan of his spontaneous appearance.
"God, you need to stop doing that! I almost slapped you I swear-" You stopped mid-way once you turned around and saw his face. He had a few cuts on his lips and eyebrows and one big bruise across his cheek. Those guys really did a number on him.
Your eyebrows furrowed in concern, "are you okay?"
He tried to wave it off but you could tell he was bothered by your question, "It's fine, really, don't worry about it." Was he insane? How were you not going to worry when he was visibly injured?
"Were these from the guys on Tuesday?" You couldn't help but ask, where else would he get these cuts and bruises if it didn't come from them?
His demeanor immediately switched and he pushed himself away from you.
"It's none of your business so stay out of it."
"Okay." That was the only thing you said before grabbing your smoothie from the worker and quickly walking away from the shop. If he wanted to be like that then so be it. You most definitely were not going to wait for him to 'open up' by all means, he could throw himself a pity party for all you care.
"Wait-" He tried reaching for your arm but you were too quick for him. Your steps were swift, helping you create a reasonable distance between you and Wonwoo. He called out your name a few times before giving up, he didn't want to gather any unwanted attention from the people nearby. Reaching your pace, Wonwoo was finally close enough to grab your wrist and make you look at him.
"Are you seriously ignoring me?" His voice was a bit jagged, no doubt coming from the unexpected cardio you made him do to catch up to you.
Unfortunately for him, you were petty. "You said it wasn't my business, so please do not talk to me because I really do not care." You brushed past him once again this time making sure he could not grab your arms or wrists.
He exhaled in annoyance, "Look I'm sorry-" Wonwoo was mid-apology before being abruptly cut off by the voice of a guy yelling your name out loud.
Speaking of the devil, what immaculate timing.
"Hey yn! Did you still want to get food after class?" Hyunwoo jogged to where you were standing but saw how Wonwoo was still trying to talk to you.
"Sorry, were you busy with him?"
You instantly responded to Hyunwoo, "No, he was just asking for directions, but yeah I'm down for food." Like before, you made your way towards Hyunwoo, making sure to bump into Wonwoo. He couldn't help but stay frozen in place as he watched you walk to class with some random guy, jealousy slowly invading his mind.
Directions? Did she really...?
As much as Wonwoo wanted to be mad at you, he really had no one to blame but himself. The whole situation with his old group of 'friends' was really getting to him so once you popped that question it just seemed to send him over the edge. He just didn't know how far you would go to express your annoyance towards him. Now all he had to do was find a way to properly apologize to you before that Hyunwoo guy got to you first.
The only thing stopping him? He didn't have your number or any of your socials...
Part Two: Coming soon...
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originalberfallday · 5 months
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tattooed on my heart // carmen berzatto x reader
contains: FLUFF, carmen x you, dad!carmen x mom!reader, pregnancy
summary: your daughter wakes you up early and carmen distracts her with his tattoos
length: 1.3k
takes place in the same universe as this fic!
my masterlist / request a carmy drabble!
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tattooed on my heart
it's early. way too early, frankly, for you all to be awake. you slept badly, pain piercing your back. carmen got home late, running on empty after service, but rubbed circles on your spine until sleep finally came over you again.
your daughter, of course, is oblivious to this, and bounded in as soon as the first chink of sunlight slipped through her curtains. you can't be mad at her. she's always excited on days when you're both home. she presses sloppy kisses to your face and says hello to the baby she knows is the cause of your rounded belly, gestures that alone work to win you over.
carmen has managed to steady her by letting her clamber kneeling into his lap in her brightly coloured pyjamas, his hand secure at her hip. even tired his face lights a little when he sees her. and you get joy just from watching him with her, bare-chested against the headboard, tousled and golden in the morning light.
your daughter is fascinated by carmen's tattoos. always has been. you've had to make sure all the art materials in the house are extra toddler safe because you never know when she's going to dash through the door with a Jackson Pollock up and down her arms.
"that one, uh, reminds me to be careful chopping vegetables," carmen says, as she examines the knife on the back of his hand.
"always careful in the kitchen," she repeats, sing-song. it's become something of a mantra, before you let her sit on the counter to watch carmy cook or take her for a visit to the bear. "which one is your very favorite?"
"easy," carmen says, his smile unfurling. he taps his chest with a fingertip. "this one."
"not the flower?"
"I like the flower. but I like this one more. can you read it?"
she shakes her head with great vigour, pulling absentmindedly at her pyjama hem. 
"it says your name."
she frowns. "to remind you of it?"
the corner of his mouth twitches. "to remind me how important you are. and so you're always with me, here, near my heart."
her face blooms with delight. "because you looooove me?" 
"because I love you," he agrees, that trace of a laugh still playing at his mouth.
you love how much he loves her. how, even though it was hard, had him panicking, hands shaking, in those earliest days, to realize how much he had opened himself up to, having her, and how scared that made him, he could live with it. and he was good at it, being a dad. you notice how careful he is to show her, not just tell her: learning how she likes her hair and taking her to the park in the fall to crunch the leaves and calling from the kitchen when he can't get home.
he doesn't ask her to say it back. and yet she will, because it is all she has known, the gentle and hard-fought love of carmen berzatto. 
"does it say mama’s name too?” she asks, as if this is the most obvious thing in the world.
"mama's name is here." he holds up his left hand, where instead of a wedding band he wears your name along the underside of his ring finger.
she looks crestfallen. "but not in your heart?"
"no, baby, i mean- of course -”
"it's instead of wearing a wedding ring," you explain. "daddy can't wear jewellery when he's working in case it falls into somebody's soup."
carmen scrunches up his face in that vivid way of his. you can see him struggling not to swear.  “soup? we serve broth.”
you roll your eyes. “fine, broth. either way you wouldn’t want to taste a wedding ring in it, would you?” you say, glancing cheekily at your daughter. you go to gesture with your own wedding band, and too late remember you took it off because of the swelling, leaving a ghost of its shape behind. fuck.
your daughter gasps, bolts upright to investigate. “your ring felled off!”
“no, sweet girl. I just took it off for a while, that’s all. my fingers were sore.”
“Oh,” she says sadly. Then, more hopeful: “I kiss them better?"
your heart almost melts out of your chest as she cradles your hand. when she releases you, carmen gathers her into his arms and kisses her crown, murmuring, his face soft with affection.
you press your nose to hers briefly. “thank you, sweetheart. that was very kind of you.”
“now you can put your ring back on,” she says, trying to wriggle free of her father. 
“maybe later. we have to let your medicine work first.”
her face lights up with an idea. “you should get a tattoo! like daddy."
you pull a face. "I don’t know. tattoos hurt a little when you first get them."
when she looks back at carmen her eyes are wide. "all of these hurted you? did… did my tattoo hurt?"
"not really. it was just little taps. like this," carmen says, prodding her until she squirms and it descends into tickling. she screeches with giggles. it is one of your favorite sounds.
"careful!" you exclaim, as she accidentally kicks out towards you. carmen eases off. "your sister is in here, you know." 
"sorry sister!" she squeaks, giggling, catching her breath on the bedcovers. 
"can you do a job for me, chef?" carm asks, changing tack. "wanna check if we have blueberries and we'll make a breakfast special?"
when she has scrambled to her feet, full up on the importance of her task and very excited about the prospect of breakfast special, carmen turns his gaze on you. "how are you doing? your back any better?"
"better," you confirm, and there's a moment of relief in his blue eyes, as you rest your skull against the headboard. "thank you, for last night, by the way."
"of course. she still backflipping first thing?"
"oh, yeah. it's her new favorite trick."
"wonder who she got that from," he says, as the distant hammer of feet hits the hallway again. he brushes your thigh. "you wanna sleep some more or have breakfast in bed?"
you consider. the promise of a little extra sleep is tantalising to you. "first one, then the other?"
he pulls you half-in with one arm, kisses your temple. "you got it." 
"we have blueberries!" your daughter calls as she returns, triumphant.
"call me if you need anything, okay?" carmen murmurs to you. with effort, he rises, and you're not too tired to take a moment to admire the way the puzzle pieces of his back flex and shift together as he crosses the room.
he closes the blind and shepherds your daughter towards the door. "thank you, chef. we're gonna eat breakfast while your mom sleeps and bring hers later, okay?"
as you try to get comfortable, you can still hear their conversation, fading out down the hallway: 
"can I get a tattoo?"
"when you're older, sure. you have to be eighteen."
"that's okay. I'll be eighteen in febu-rurary."
carmen's laugh. his beautiful, fond, hard-won laugh. "that's not - baby, you'll be four in february. that's older than three, but it's not eighteen."
"oh." a distant lip wobble.
and you know, even as you fall into the deep and dreamless sleep of exhaustion, that he's going to give in somehow.
"i know, sweet girl. tell you what. wanna draw something and i'll get it tattooed on me?" 
read more of my fics / request a carmy drabble!
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navybrat817 · 7 months
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Ladies and Gentlemen
Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader Summary: Bucky reflects on you and your date the morning after. Word Count: Over 1.9k Warnings: Tension, flirting, brief moments of insecurity, implied sexy times, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Graphics talent and thanks: Banner by @sgt-seabass. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Bucky edit by Nix. Moodboard by yours truly. Previous Part of AU: Technically Innocent and Sinful, but posted part is Sundresses and Leather A/N: A bit more Hottie and Sugar from our Sin on Skin AU and you voted to go to his place! ❤️ I realize that I've skipped over Innocent and Sinful for now, but I really wanted to showcase Bucky and his feelings regarding the date and you. Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you for spitballing), but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Bucky hummed to himself as he made breakfast, doing his best to move quietly around the kitchen. He normally only hummed along to the radio in his car, which you discovered during your date the night before, but he couldn’t help himself today. He was happy. He had a spring in his step he hadn’t realized was missing.
Turns out, the thing he was missing was you.
“So. My place or yours?”
Tiptoeing back to his bedroom, Bucky saw you asleep peacefully in his bed. It was a sight he could get used to. Your gentle breathing and serene expression brought a small smile to his face as he leaned against the doorframe. When he woke up earlier with you in his arms he feared for a moment that he was dreaming again, like he had in his shop. But when he placed a kiss on your forehead and received a sleepy moan in response, he knew it was real.
So was the night before.
Bucky held back a groan as some of the images of the two of you together replayed in his mind, his eyes closing and only serving to enhance what he was already thinking about. He wanted to be a gentleman to you. He tried. After your last prick of a boyfriend, you sure as hell deserved that. Which was one of the reasons he was making you breakfast, as tempted as he was to climb back in bed and wake you.
Told you I’d take care of you, Sugar.
You opened up to and for him so beautifully. You were nothing short of an angel. His angel. His Sugar. It was crazy to think like that after one date, but there was something there and that was before he took you out. And you already planned what the next two dates would be, which he was looking forward to.
Even if our first date didn’t go as planned.
It turned out for the best. Even better than he could’ve imagined. He refrained from leaving a negative review online at that restaurant for mixing up his reservation, which was a blessing in disguise. The place was far from his style, but he saw it as a chance to impress you when his other plans fell through. He should’ve known better and gone with his instinct to take you to a place like Antonia’s from the start.
The smile slipped from his face as he remembered you talking about your mom, his fists lightly clenching. If he ever had the chance to meet her, he’d have a hard time staying silent about how she treated you. As if you sensed the sudden tension rise within him, you shifted closer to his side of the bed and rubbed the spot with your hand. The sight soothed him. For you to tell him something so vulnerable, to trust him, gave him a glimpse of how strong you truly were. Because it took strength to open up and stay kind when others tried to knock you down.
I’ll catch you.
Silently dashing back to the kitchen so he didn’t burn anything on the stove, he pushed the thought of your mom out of his mind as he finished up. He wasn’t going to focus on the negatives today. Not when he had you at his place. Maybe he could convince you to stick around for a bit after breakfast if you didn’t have plans.
Before he had a chance to wake you, someone knocked three times on the front door.
Steve.
He wondered if the noise woke you as he glanced down the hall, but he didn’t hear any movement as he headed toward the door and yanked it open before Steve could knock again. Sure enough, his best friend had his fist closed and ready. “Not dressed?” he asked as he lowered his arm.
With a shrug, Bucky glanced down at himself. “I’m wearing sweatpants,” he said, which he only put on to cook for you. “What are you doing here? It’s my day off.”
“Is that how you greet your best friend, jerk? After I came all the way over here?” He asked, looking back and forth as he pushed his way inside. “You weren’t answering your phone and you usually don’t sleep this late.”
“Come on in, punk. And don’t act like you drove across town to see me. We live in the same building,” Bucky said sarcastically as he shut the door. “So because I didn’t answer my phone on my day off, you decided to come over? Really? You’re spying, which you’re terrible at because you’re a terrible liar.”
The blonde pushed his hair back as his gaze swept the apartment. “I’m not spying, but come on. You have to tell me something. Jake and Hal won’t shut up in the group chat. Even Andy asked about your date and you’ve ignored everyone,” he argued, following Bucky to the kitchen.
Bucky couldn’t find it in himself to feel annoyed at Steve showing up or at the rest of the guys for wanting to know how the night went. They looked out for and supported each other. The fact that they all liked you made them root for the two of you more. “I wasn’t trying to ignore you guys,” he said, not saying he didn’t answer anyone since he was preoccupied with you.
“So, how did it go?” Steve asked, a hopeful look in his eyes.
Perfect because it was with Sugar.
“Minus getting rained on and the restaurant screwing up the reservation, just fine,” he said, giving a quick rundown of some of the details. He left out the heart-to-heart conversation in your bakery. Steve was his best friend, but that wasn’t any of his business.
“It didn’t go the way you wanted to, but it was ‘just fine’? Judging by that smile on your face, I take it the date went well,” Steve said.
Very well.
Bucky managed not to smirk as he set out two coffee mugs. “A gentleman never tells. Now do me a favor and get the hell out of my apartment. My breakfast is getting cold.”
“I know you have an appetite, but this much food?” Steve said, nodding to the two plates. “Considering I showed up unannounced and you already had two plates out, I’m guessing you weren’t planning on feeding me.”
“Mmm. Something smells delicious. Oh! Hi, Steve.”
Bucky sucked in a breath when he turned his head and drank in the sight of you. You had a sleepy expression on your face, which was adorable, but it was the fact that you were wearing one of his shirts that made his heart stop in his chest. You toyed with the hem as you smiled, your gaze on him and not on Steve. He wondered if it would be too much to ask you to wear one of his shirts while you worked in the bakery.
I can have a dress made out of one of my shirts, right?
“Good to see you.” Steve smirked before he looked at his friend. “A gentleman never tells, huh?”
Bucky allowed himself to smirk this time. “I didn’t say a word.”
“Oh, he’s very much a gentleman,” you said as you joined Bucky and slid an arm around his waist. His arm instinctively went around your back, his fingers gently touching you through the fabric. “He’s also a sorcerer. Or maybe a magician. I’m not sure which.”
Steve’s brows furrowed as he glanced at Bucky. “You’re a what?”
“Well,” you said slowly, biting your lip before you looked at Bucky. “There’s this magical thing he does with his tongue where-”
The blonde held a hand up to stop you. “And that’s my cue to leave.”
Yeah, because my cue of telling you to leave wasn’t enough, Punk. Now go so I can do that thing with my tongue again.
“Told you a gentleman never tells,” Bucky stated, pulling you closer by the waist. It amazed him how perfectly you two fit together. “I never said anything about my girl speaking.”
Your eyes lit up at the small endearment, making his heart race. “Should I tell him about your massive-”
“Text me later!” Steve said, giving you a small smile before he quickly showed himself out.
Bucky chuckled when the door shut. “Don’t let his modest act fool you. He’s far from innocent,” he joked. Steve respected women though.
“I think he was trying to act like a gentleman for my sake,” you teased. “And if Tess knew where you lived, she probably would’ve shown up, too.”
With a chuckle, he nodded in agreement. “How’d you sleep? I would’ve stayed in bed with you, but I wanted to make you breakfast.”
Are you sore? Do I need to take care of you?
“I slept very well, thank you. And breakfast in bed sounds like the perfect way to start the day,” you said, touching his cheek. He could stay wrapped up in bed with you all day if you'd let him. “Did you sleep okay?”
“Best night of sleep I’ve had since I can remember,” he answered honestly, his eyes soft as a full blown smile spread across your face.
You leaned in to brush your lips against his before you stopped yourself, some of the light fading from your eyes. “Sorry. I haven’t brushed my teeth and my breath probably stinks-”
Bucky closed the gap to kiss your lips. He didn’t care if you brushed your teeth or not. “Taste sweet to me, Sugar,” he whispered, taking possession of your mouth again to leave you breathless. He wanted to taste every part of you and sweep away any insecurities or doubts that tried to take over.
You pulled away to take a breath. “Keep kissing me like that and I won’t eat this breakfast you worked so hard on.”
“Did you purposely say ‘hard on’?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you. “And I don’t mind feeding you my-”
You covered his mouth with your hand, giggling. “Don’t you dare say what I think you’re going to say.”
He licked his lips when you moved your hand away. “I was going to say I don’t mind feeding you my food,” he told you with a blank expression since he couldn’t feign innocence. “You’re a dirty girl for jumping to conclusions.”
“I’m not a dirty girl. I’m a lady,” you protested, inhaling sharply as he began to back you up against the counter.
“You look good in my shirt. Really good,” he said, his voice gravelly and low as he flexed his fingers on your hips. “Tell me to stop, Sugar. I already wore you out once and you need to eat so you have your strength.”
Because I want to ruin you all over again.
“So I have my strength? You sure I didn’t wear you out, Hottie?” You questioned.
He found himself laughing as you tilted your chin up. Not at you. Never at you. No, it was that happiness creeping back in at how the two of you fell in sync. The banter, the ease. He wished you could see yourself through his eyes and feel what he did.
He’d continue to find ways to show you how special you were.
“How about we agree that we wore each other out? I think that’s what happened.”
You gave him a single nod. “Looking forward to us wearing each other out again.”
Me, too, Sugar. Me, too.
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He's a dream, isn't he? Love and thanks for reading! 💙
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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greycaelum · 8 months
Note
imagine past/young gojo and reader go into the future and meet the future gojo and reader with the kids and shi
Kaleidoscope Series—Clouds and Mochi Chapters: { Sweet Things }
—Gojo Satoru X Wife Reader
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𑁍 Synopsis:
2016... The paycheck you got yesterday was dated 2010. "This is crazy..." Is this even possible? Your knees faltered, staggering back as you reread the paper. You have fallen into the wrong timeline. Did the curse have so much power to send you far to the present? How are you gonna go back?
𑁍 Genre: fluff, time-leap
𑁍 WC/CW/TW: (1.4k)—/ glimpse of teen Satoru, teen reader, the reader got sucked in a curse's domain, clingy Satoru—/
𑁍 A/N: For some reason, there seems to be a number that likes this trope (I have two more of the same request in the inbox). This is not my forte, so sorry for the very long wait dear. I'll post the next part in Satoru's POV. This will be a three-shot I guess.
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"Neh, can you fight?" A 19-year-old Satoru held his breath as he asks the girl he's been wanting to talk to for years now. "I can train you," he added.
"No, but if you do that stunt again I'm gonna knee you where the sun doesn't shine." You smiled sweetly at the male, contrasting with the blank look in your eyes. 
Satoru's heart only shivered. Please, you have to stop being so adorable it's making his heart go batshit pounding.
"Yaga-san, I'm going. Please wire my payment to the usual account." You bowed at the older male chanting to let down a curtain. You move to get out before the partition touched the ground.
"Oi!" Satoru almost choked on himself watching you turn your back on him. Not so fast pretty girl. Not when he's spent years looking at you from afar. He stopped you and handed over the blue folding umbrella.
"Sorry about that, I'm Gojo Satoru, and take this. It's going to rain," Satoru smiled and reach for your hand, depositing the umbrella before you could reply, and ran back into the curtain. He bit his lips, grinning to himself so badly he feels like he wants to roll on the ground. Damn it! You're just so cute. Seconds later small droplets started to fall.
That was how you "first" met the annoying but thoughtful menace. But little did you know...
Little by little he meets you more frequently in the missions, being a window, you're the first in the scene before the managers and sorcerers arrive. And it was supposed to be a normal mission and the sorcerers were just a bit late when you got entangled in the domain, with no way out. Just when your eyes are fully engulfed in the bottomless pit, a dash of white hair rushes forward and a shout called you.
"Y/n! Wake up, hey grab on me!" A crisp profanity flew out of the rude mouth. You swam into consciousness and gasped for oxygen.
You thought you're gonna die. That wasn't the first time you put down a curtain for a special grade curse but it sure will be the closest you get to dying. The curse messes up space and time. After regaining your breath, your eyes fluttered open and met the thick foliage of trees staring back at you.
The sound of loud children nearby occupied your hearing as you swam into full consciousness. This is Jujutsu Tech's grounds, the scenery is familiar but you don't know where it will lead since Master Tengen's barrier changes every day leading to different kinds of places to keep intruders from invading the school.
You started walking until you find yourself at the door of the mountain, towards the city. You look down at your dirty clothes and sighed. Perhaps getting a shower first makes sense. You hailed a cab and gave your address.
"!?"
The three-story building you're living in is nowhere and it was replaced by a fancy-looking cafe.
Les Sucreries
"What is going on?" You remember walking up and going out of your apartment this morning. You can't be in the wrong place since the ice cream parlor you love is right in front and a few blocks is the cafe you are working on part-time. 
"Ah, Miss. If you'd like please check out this flier it's time-limited so make sure to drop your entry!" A lad skip up to you and extended a flier then ran away.
Free Bouquet for the first three visitors... Fleur-de-Lis Bouquets. Only until July 27, 2016...
2016...
The paycheck you got yesterday was dated 2010.
"This is crazy..." Is this even possible?
Your knees faltered, staggering back as you reread the paper. You have fallen into the wrong timeline. Did the curse have so much power to send you far to the present? How are you gonna go back?
If in 2016 your apartment is not there anymore... Does that mean you finally got to buy your own house? What course did you take in college? Did you finally get a decent boyfriend?
A blush rose to your face. Why of all things did you have to think of that? You should first find a way home before worrying about that. Maybe going back to Jujutsu Tech will help. You started walking in the direction of the college.
The cafe door opened and a lady in a barista's apron peeked outside. The baby she's carrying on her hip calmed down when she walked out of the cafe. 
"Did you see someone we know Kou-chan?" The lady chuckled as she tickled her baby boy with striking white hair while he tried to babble and pointed his chubby finger at the lady walking away.
"Mama..."
"Mnn? Mama's right here sweetheart." 
II
Ahhh, this is crazy. The Tokyo of 2010 and Tokyo of 2016 look so alike and not at the same time.
You walked and walked and stopped.
That striking white hair that stands out of the crowd, lanky figure, and cool minty scent. The man is walking on the other side of the road and stopped on the red lights.
"Gojo?"
Your hands immediately flew to cover your mouth. He's wearing a weird white bandage over his eyes and his hair is fluffed up by the constricting cloth. But it's him! He looks just a 'bit' more handsome and mature...
Shit! You smacked your head. This is not the time for those thoughts.
And you'd never admit it to him or else his ego will gloat and you won't hear the end of it. Sometimes you wonder if ever someone has duct taped his mouth because he's so noisy and annoying.
Anyways, you can't help but trail after Gojo. Surely he'll help you if you just approach him. Everyone says he has a bad personality but when you first met him, he may sound condescending yet he ran after you to give you an umbrella because it was going to rain. That was thoughtful of him.
He's not that so bad... You thought and sighed. He may have the answer on how you could come back home. But at the same time, you're a little curious about how he turned out 6 years later. Just a little curious. After you're satisfied you'll approach him!
Come to think of it... Is he married? He should be 24 right now... It's quite young to be married yet but knowing that he came from the Gojo Clan and on top he's the heir it's not surprising if he already has an arranged marriage partner.
What does she look like? She must have a very unique curse technique and be from a prestigious clan.
Argh! Stop thinking about that Y/n. I need to go home. You steeled your thoughts.
Mustering up your courage you ran to the nearest pedestrian line and ran after Gojo but he walks damn fast.
"Damn, those lanky legs." You panted and look around only to realize you're back to where you were before. 
Les Sucreries
That's French... The name fits Gojo very much.
What is he doing here? Overcame by curiosity, you entered the cafe and sat on the farthest table. Will he recognize you?
That was when a woman came down the stairs, wearing a plain brown apron. She didn't notice you because she was focused on the man leaning on the stairs. The man was Gojo.
And the woman... was you...?
Your jaw dropped and took another look at the woman's face. It's definitely you!
It's just that your hair is longer and your body is more mature. And there's the palpable wedding band on your left ring finger.
But that's definitely "you" standing beside the strongest sorcerer, with his hands wrapped around "your" waist as he tries to sneak a kiss.
W-What happened?
Your heart was pounding and slowly regretted entering the cafe. Not in your wildest dreams did you think this would even be a possibility. I-Is he your h-husband?
So you got married. And not just married!
You're married to Gojo.
What were you thinking?! Ahhhhh! You felt your heart like a dying fish removed from the water. This isn't real... You could feel your soul escaping from your body.
You looked up and blue eyes met you. The same arrogant smirk on his lips and he whispered something to "your" ear and kissed her temples before walking towards your direction. The future "you" went up the stairs, still uninformed that her six years younger self is here.
"You blushing Y/n-chan?" He chimed and sat on the chair across from you, flashing a devilish grin. "So... how did my lil' teen crush get here?"
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—GreyCaelum
PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME
Check out the Masterlist for more
All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)
General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey @lexiene @nevermoresworld
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breadbrobin · 3 months
Note
Hi idk if you’re taking reqs but I’ve been reading your posts about Luke Castellan a lot and I think I’m getting obsessed- So could you make a fic/shot about a Luke Castellan x daughter of Apollo reader where they’ve known each other since childhood and they’re kind of like frenemies (friends and/or enemies) and one day he ends up getting badly injured after a quest so she has to take care of him in the infirmary for a week, but ever since that happened he’s been trying to get injured just to go and see reader at the infirmary again?
Sorry if that wasn’t clear, and this is kinda inspired from another fic you made about Luke and daughter of Apollo:)
But if you ever make something like this I would really appreciate it if you tagged me!
two hearts
luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians
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[fem!daughter of apollo reader]
summary: (as above)
warnings: canon typical mentions of violence, kissing, flirting, a couple of swear words, blood, idiots to lovers a lil bit too (can you tell it’s my favourite thing)
word count: 3.5k
(hiiii hello hi!! sorry this took me so long to get out, but here it is!! thank you so much for the request i had a lot of fun with this one (3.5k words of fun apparently). hope you enjoy it!)
———————————————
if someone had told you luke castellan was going to be gone on a quest when you arrived at camp for the summer, you wouldn’t have spent the whole drive to camp preparing to deal with his annoying ass.
you hiked up half-blood hill and over the boundary, noticing the distinct tension in the atmosphere. something was off.
when luke hadn’t come to see you as you dropped your bags off in the apollo cabin, or when you stopped into the infirmary, or even when you walked past the hermes cabin, you were clued in that something was up.
“where’s luke?” you asked chiron curiously.
“he is on a quest, child. sent by his father,” he smiled down at you warmly. “do not worry about him.”
“i’m not worried,” you bit your lip. “just curious. that’s all.”
and that was that.
it was weirdly boring being at camp without luke’s constant snarky comments. ever since you’d both gotten to camp when you were younger, he’d been a persistent thorn in your side. maybe it was because you both were new around the same time, or because you didn’t like it when he hovered around the infirmary, poking his quick fingers into buckets of bandages and medications. whatever it was, he seemed to enjoy irritating you. and you apparently enjoyed it more than you thought.
monotonous days: breakfast, archery, infirmary, training, activities, dinner, bed.
sleepless nights: nightmares of quests and dragons and a bright white scar.
you sighed one night, waking up from yet another dream of flashes and brief images. your siblings were sleeping around you, a couple of them snoring, and you sat up.
the air on the porch was cooler that night, especially for summer time. you wrapped your sweatshirt a little tighter around yourself and leaned on the porch railing, peering out into the darkness. you just needed a minute, really. you sat down on a chair and relaxed.
you woke up abruptly.
at first, you were confused as to why.
then you saw the figure on the hill.
it was a camper. the hint of orange in the full-moon light told you that much. they were stumbling down—no, they were rolling now.
you stood up and dashed back into your cabin, grabbing your to-go first aid kit. you then turned and ran towards the obviously injured figure. there were only three people it could be. and where were the other two?
you reached them quickly, dropping to your knees beside them and rolling them over.
luke.
it was luke.
the air rushed from your lungs. he was here. he was back. he was alive. you’d never felt such an overwhelming emotion before. it drew slight stinging tears to your eyes.
his eyes were barely open but he gripped your arm with a strength you didn’t think his weak body could still possess. “y/n?”
“just hold on, luke,” you whispered. there were injuries all over his body. you hardly knew where to start. “just hold on.”
“they’re gone,” he said absently.
you looked at him, but didn’t stop trying to help. “who’s gone?”
“everyone,” he stared up at the moon.
you bit your cheek and looked over your shoulder. one of your brothers had gone on that quest with him. “wake up!” you shouted. “someone come help!” you turned back to luke. “okay, luke. you’re gonna be okay.”
his cheeks were hollow. it was then that you noticed the way his eye was swollen closed and a dark red angry cut traced its way down the side of his face. you gasped and turned his head gently to see it better.
“not looking good, huh?” he murmured bitterly. “guess i won’t be getting any modelling contracts soon.”
“we’ll see about that,” you muttered. “stay awake, yeah?”
“you’re not the boss of me,” he grumbled, but kept his eyes open as help finally arrived to get him to the infirmary.
he’d had more injuries than you’d originally thought. it was like he’d been attacked by half of the monsters in greek mythology, honestly, based on the peppered burn holes in his shirt, the cuts and scrapes on his arms and knees and the gashes littering his abdomen. oh, and not to mention the gaping spear wound in his right shoulder.
after working all night with some of your siblings and chiron in the infirmary, he was finally stable. finally, he’d be okay.
you volunteered to stay with him to keep an eye on him for the first few hours, though your eyelids were drooping with sleep.
you held his hand. it felt like the right thing to do.
he didn’t stir.
it was strange, being around him without him talking. since you were fourteen, he’d rarely managed to shut up around you. incessant talking and waving his hands around, explaining some new thing he learned in sword fighting or some joke one of his brothers made. it was both infuriating and entertaining. you loved and hated it, just like you loved and hated him.
sitting in silence with luke castellan felt like the world was turning on its head.
a couple of hours passed. you didn’t let go of his hand. not even as you slipped into a dream—a memory, really.
you were fifteen, and it was raining. it had only been a few months since you got to camp. things were still fresh and somewhat unknown. what you did know, though, was you could never get a moments peace anymore.
“y/n?”
you rolled your eyes. of course it was luke. “what?”
“where are you?”
you supposed you were hidden pretty well. sitting among the reeds at the bottom of the lake was one of your favourite places to be. it was cooler there, but even in winter it wasn’t cold. your feet could sit in the water if you wanted them to and the reeds blocked you from the wind and outside attention.
when you didn’t respond, you could hear him coming closer anyway.
“that’s fine, don’t tell me. i’ll find you anyway.”
and he did. he always did.
there was some theory about that, you realised as he sat beside you, the tiny space between the reeds barely big enough to hold both of you. some theory about a string of fate tying people together. some greek myth about people originally having four arms, four legs and two hearts, and when zeus split them down the middle, those people spent the rest of their lives searching for their other halves. drawn together by fate and reconnected always. you arm was pressed against his arm and your leg against his leg, and maybe it felt so right because you were cold and he was warm. not because of some silly soulmate theory that didn’t even make sense. because there was also the idea that maybe he’d put a tracker on you, but you had no idea where he would have gotten that. or maybe you were just bad at hiding.
“i’ve been looking for you,” he said.
you tilted your head in confusion. “what? why?”
“well,” were you mistaken, or were his cheeks kind of red? “i kinda hurt myself at training today. and the people in the infirmary told me to grow up and get over it. but honestly, it really hurts and i just wanted to know if you could heal it.”
you rolled your eyes. “always needing something, huh, castellan? is it so much to ask for you to just want to see me?” you hold your hand out and he extends his sword arm, revealing the cross-muscle cut on his forearm.
“i do want to see you,” he protested. “honestly. it’s not my fault that i’m also coincidentally injured whenever i want to see you.”
you couldn’t stay mad at that smile. “coincidentally, huh?” you handed him a small section of ambrosia from your pocket as your fingers ran over the cut, whispering a prayer to your father. you watched as the skin knit itself closed again, leaving not even a scar on his arm. you pulled back with a smile. “there. done. good as new.”
“thanks, doctor. don’t know what i’d do without you.”
“die a horrible death and be left permanently disfigured? to the point where we’d do a closed casket funeral just so we don’t have to look at your ugly face?” you tilted your head with a teasing smile.
he elbowed you. “shut up, loser. you know you love my face.”
and as you woke up, feeling his hand tighten around yours, you realised you kind of did. there was gauze over the cut on his eye and cheek, covering half of his face. and yet, he was still annoyingly beautiful.
“something on my face?” he mumbled as he saw looking, finally awake. “except for this thing, of course.” he gestured to the gauze.
you smiled wanly. “i’m glad you’re awake.”
“missed me?” he half-grinned.
you snort and drop his hand, patting the back of it and standing up to check his bandages. “you wish.”
he was silent as you checked his bandages and reapplied the few that were loosening. then, as you left to go and get the next person to keep an eye on him, he spoke up. “i missed you.”
you paused in the doorway, a small smile growing on your face. you looked back at him. his eyes were earnest and soft. he looked younger like this. “i’ll be back a few hours. we’ll have dinner together.”
you did have dinner together. in fact, you had almost every meal together for the first few days.
it was quiet, mostly. you didn’t ask him what happened and he didn’t tell you. you knew he’d already been interrogated by everyone else. he didn’t need that from you.
annabeth came and joined you a couple of times, chatting about some new architectural design she’d learned about or a new move she’d learned in training.
you realised how alike they were. family in every way that mattered, regardless of blood.
it didn’t take long for luke to start getting annoying again though.
once he’d been in the infirmary for four days, he regained most of his usual personality. and that meant bad jokes, incessant talking and poorly-timed, half-hearted flirting.
“the sun makes your eyes glow,” he said one day. he’d never had much of a filter, so it wasn’t too out of the blue, but it still caught you a little of guard.
you fumbled the supplies in your hand. “sorry, what?”
he was sitting up on his bed now. his wounds were almost healed. two more days and he’d be out of the infirmary. you didn’t know if you were one hundred per cent happy about that.
“your eyes. they glow in the sun.” he repeated.
you paused, glancing over at him. “thank you…?”
he nodded and leaned back, his eyes staying on you.
that was only the beginning.
within five hours he’d complimented your eyes, your skills, your smile and your kindness. multiple times. it got the point where the other two patients in the infirmary had stopped taking you seriously, just complimenting you instead. that’s where you drew the line.
“okay, luke, you need to stop. this is too much,” you said. you were checking his remaining wounds and nodding happily at them.
“what, am i flustering you? are you blushing?” he teased.
you were not blushing at all, you decided. whether it was strictly true or not was between your brain and your cheeks, not your honesty. “you’re annoying me,” you grumbled. “like, a lot.”
“you know you’ll miss me when i go back to my cabin,” he leaned back on his pillows, a smirk on his lips. it warped the scar on his cheek more than you expected, and it made your heart clench every time.
“if i miss you, you have permission to annoy me for the rest of my life,” you grumbled. you definitely wouldn’t miss this.
finally, he was out of the infirmary.
finally, you could work in peace.
finally, you could— oh, what the hell?
“good morning!” luke said as he waltzed into the infirmary. “i’ve injured myself.”
you looked him up and down as you walked closer. “you look fine to me. what did you do?”
“i fell of the rock climbing wall and hit my head.” he turned his head to show you the small trickle of blood above his ear.
you sighed and led him to a bed. you handed him ambrosia as you used a wet cloth to clean his head. “you were meant to take things easy for the first few days.”
“i did!” he protested. “i was only like, twelve feet up!”
you pursed your lips and shook your head. your hand was under his chin now, stopping him from turning his head to look at you. “taking it easy means no rock climbing at all, dumbass. you’ve been out of here for half a day and you’re already back!”
“maybe i like it in here.” he shrugged, pouting slightly, looking up at you.
“maybe i find you really annoying and ban you from coming in here,” you countered.
“you can’t do that,” he gasped.
“watch me, castellan.” you prodded his cheek mockingly. “don’t mess with me.”
his smile wasn’t exactly the response you were looking for, but you found that you didn’t mind it all too much.
luke came into the infirmary almost every two days for the next two weeks.
there was always some new injury that he couldn’t ignore, that he needed to have you heal. he only came in when you were there though, like he knew your schedule off by heart.
he probably did.
his sheepish smile was becoming a fixture of your days and you couldn’t help but smile a little brighter when you saw it. you couldn’t stop your heart from beating a little faster either, and it was annoying.
in the years that you’d been at camp, luke castellan had driven you up the wall. did you hate him? did you love him? how did you love him? how a friend loves a friend? how a doctor loves a patient? how a lover loves a lover? how did you hate him? why? why anything? why nothing? the questions only got worse.
“another minor injury?” you sighed, hearing his footsteps entering the infirmary. you didn’t know when you memorised the sound of his footsteps, or the rise and fall of his breathing while he slept, but you did.
“uh, not exactly…” the weakness in his voice made your stomach drop.
you turned around to see him clutching a bright red wound on his inner arm. he looked pale. that wasn’t a good sign. the blood was still seeping past his fingers. also not a good sign.
you gasped and pulled him to a bed immediately, pushing him to lie down and placing hard pressure on the wound. you could feel him reaching into your pocket and fishing around for ambrosia. once he found some, he ate it quickly and sighed in relief.
“what the hell happened?” you exclaimed.
he shrugged with one shoulder. “sword training.”
“were you training against the fucking terminator?” you took in the other minor cuts and bruises. your voice was unfairly shaky. you didn’t want to get close to losing him again. even just the thought made you feel sick.
his eyes were soft when they looked up at you. you almost dropped all of your anger right there. “i got sloppy,” he said nonchalantly. “i’ll be fine once i get back to normal.”
“this is an artery,” you said. “you could die.”
he didn’t look all that upset or shocked. “i won’t die, baby. i won’t.”
your stomach gave a pitiful lurch at the nickname. “save your energy.”
“is that your doctorly way of telling me to shut up?” he teased.
“yes, it is,” you nodded. “now, shut up while i help you.”
he looked at you like you were hanging the stars in the sky, not tending to him with hands red from his blood.
no one had stopped talking about luke since he got back. the first failed quest in years, with two of the three members dying and the third one permanently scarred by a dragon. not a good ratio.
you often saw luke sitting alone now, and when he was nowhere to be found, you knew where he was.
maybe there was something to the strings of fate theory, you thought as you found him and sat down beside him among the reeds. they were taller now and more dense, but the two of you had carved out a little spot for yourselves over time. your limbs were still pressed against each other though. that was one thing that would never change.
he was turning something over in his hands. a repetitive motion.
you tried to make sense of what it was, but couldn’t.
“it’s a dragon claw,” he spoke up. “the one that did this.” he pointed at the still-red scar on his face. that was why you couldn’t get rid of that one. magic scars never really went away.
you stayed quiet.
“peter distracted the dragon just in time for me to get my sword back. i got the cut, but when i turned back he was getting thrown against the mountainside.” he shook his head bitterly. “he didn’t stand a chance.”
you stared at a dragonfly on a reed in front of you. “knowing my brother, he just would have been happy to be there. and happy that you’re alive.”
he smiled, but it looked forced and bitter. “yeah. he spent the whole time talking about how lucky we were for this opportunity, and how he was so excited to explore beyond camp… and gianna was the same. they were just…” he was fiddling with his camp beads now.
you watched his movements slowly. it was like he’d never been gone, but also like everything had changed. there was a new tension in the air around him. you weren’t sure if it was you or him.
“don’t be resentful,” you said softly, breaking the silence.
“what?” his eyes turned to you. “what do you mean?”
“don’t resent yourself and the gods for this,” you said, leaning a little closer to him and looking away. the dragonfly hadn’t moved—like it was listening. watching. “peter and gianna made their choices. they’re in elysium now. that’s about as good as it gets.”
he pressed his lips together and nodded. “i know.”
maybe there was something to the two hearts theory too, because you could tell he didn’t. he didn’t agree. he didn’t want to. you slipped your hand into his. “you know i’m always here for you, right, luke? i mean, you annoy me—a lot—but you’re still, well, you. and you’re important to me. i’ll always be there for you. if you want to hold hate in your heart, then be my guest. i’ll just have to hold more love in mine to balance you out.”
he was watching your connected fingers as you spoke. his hands were calloused and hard, but yours were softer. less time spent training and more time spent healing. “love for who?”
you, you thought. you didn’t speak.
he turned to look at you. you were already looking at him. “love for me?”
you swallowed tightly. “luke…”
he leaned in closer, until his lips were moments away from touching yours. one wrong move and you’d touch. or was that the right move? was the wrong move pulling away? leaving him alone—again? that didn’t feel fair. but nor did your pounding heart and your flushing cheeks, and maybe you were blushing now, but that didn’t mean you had to like it.
then you gave in. that string that connected your souls was pulling you too tight. your lips brushed against his softly at first, and before you could think to move any further, his hand was gripping the back of your neck and pulling you closer, and his lips were pressing against yours with the passion of years of built up tension. you’d never hated him at all, you realised. you loved him the whole time. sure, he was irritating. he was chatty. he was pushy and annoying and never stopped bothering you. but you’d missed his bothering, and you’d missed his smile, and when he pulled away to take a breath, you missed his lips with a fiery need that bubbled up from deep down inside you.
“guess i’ll be annoying you for the rest of our lives then, huh?” he said softly, chest rising and falling against yours.
your eyes were still closed, reeling from the kiss. “wasn’t that a given anyway? i wouldn’t want it any other way, personally.”
when he kissed you again, you decided that the theory about two hearts was, in fact, correct. you met as two, seperate halves in a fucked up world that had you grow up far too fast. you grew as two, finding your places at camp, finding your people, but always finding each other first. you met now as one. four arms, four legs, two hearts, meeting in a tumultuous display of love and desire. and that’s how you wanted to stay. your limbs locked with his, your hearts pounding in sync, your every feeling, every emotion, every sensation making your very soul hum with joy. you’d found him, finally, after years of your hearts waiting for this moment. finally, your two hearts were one again.
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itstheghostofmypast · 1 month
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15.07
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Choi San x (f)Reader
Summary: At this point, he didn't know who she loved more, him or Byeol, either way, he was happy. What else could Choi San ask for other than his two favourite girls in the world getting along?
Genre: PURE FLUFF
Warnings: NONE
Word Count: 2.1K
Est. Read Time: 10 min
Networks: @cromernet @k-labels
A/N: No- see @edenesth 💗 did this to me. This timestamp is for my saviour, the one and only @edenesth 💗 , like we should totally blame San for posting such domestic core pics- no wonder we get all delulu- PS THIS COLLAB HAS ME DYING
@edenesth version: [12.58]PM
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"San?" she called out, walking down the hallway as she paused in front of the wall-length mirror, fixing her hair once more and checking out her outfit, simple, crisp and a dash of purple. Very different from her usual office attire, very colourful too- after all the first time he had seen her she was in a plain suit, a white dress shirt and slacks, running around collecting printouts for the upcoming spring magazine. That also being the first time he had realised how much he loved the word 'simple'. Okay, fine, perhaps she was dressed on the softer side, but was it so bad to play cute for once? Especially, if she was doing so to please her man. Call it her way of simping.
Truth be told, she wasn't even sure if he was going to show up, after their extensive tour, when he had mentioned the upcoming off days he was to get, she had suggested going to his home town to relax, leaving the city life for a while and although it pained her to know that she would be too busy with her own work at the office, also known as the company he too worked in, she wanted him to rest and relax away from the hustle bustle of his idol life, what she did not expect that after a week of his departure to Namhae, the very next weekend her fluff of a man would be ringing her doorbell in the late hours of the weekend.
"Byeol wanted to see you and so did I, I spent a week there and I'll spend a week here."
Was all he the dimpled man had made his way inside to the living room, opening the carrier to let Byeol out, the living room already a place of her liking. She had been here with San a couple of times; she had also been a very important part of their relationship. Especially on their third date where he had delicately brought up the topic, "Are you allergic to cats?"
"No, why?"
"Do you like cats?"
"Yeah, why?"
He never really answered her question that night, only smiled at her, leaning over the table to add more meat to her plate considering the late hours of the night, her hunger had distracted her from asking more questions, already too emotional at the thought of this angel of a man sacrificing his portion of protein for her - especially after grilling it so well. The only thing that did change was that the next morning she received around 400+ pictures of San's first love, Byeol.
The first time he had brought Byeol over, he was cautious and attentive, making sure both his girls were happy. He asked her cute questions all day- maybe she just found them cute because it was him, or perhaps it was because he was letting her in, into his domain, which is the little kitty roaming around the house.
"Can I put the litter here?"
"All your windows are locked right?"
"Do you mind if I keep the food bowl next to where we eat? She feels lonely otherwise."
"Can she sleep on your bed? I brought her cat mat just in case."
"Can we leave the bedroom door open a bit, so she can come and go without waking us up?"
He stopped when he realised, she wasn't even responding, panicking he looked up from the cat supplies. Maybe she felt like he was intruding or invading her privacy but was too afraid to tell him. Maybe bringing in Byeol was a big step he shouldn't have taken so quickly. What if she meant like she liked cats, at a normal level, like 'oh a cat.'  Not like cuddling them or baby-talking to them. Turning around his eyes scanned the room to spot her holding onto Byeol, carrying her like a baby and cooing at her. It was only then he realised how loud his cat was purring loud enough for it to echo in the silent room.
"Hmmm? You say something, Sannie?" she looked up from Byeol to him, eyes as curious as a cat's, hand resting on the cat's tummy, letting Byeol grab her hand with her soft paws. His heart felt as if it were about to burst out of his ribcage, running to her and landing on her palm, beating in it with an intensity that would borderline scare her. Licking his chapped lips the feline-eyed man shook his head, a genuine dimpled smile forming, one that would send thousands flipping with joy- or in her case have her gushing over it in solitude.
Thus, giving birth to a ritual, often he would spend his free days at his own home, sometimes calling her over, and gratefully his family welcomed her with open arms. On other occasions, he’d drop by to her apartment, bringing their 'daughter' with him.
She remembers the time Byeol had gotten sick. Unfortunately, San was busy that evening, and his parents were out of town so Byeol was to stay with her. Not an issue, at least it wasn't until the third night when San checked his phone after hours of practice late at night. He had decided to stay at the dorm, travelling would be more tiring she understood, but as the man checked his phone his heart almost stopped.
"Byeol is sick, she's vomiting. "
"I'm taking her to the vet."
"She's shivering."
"Okay, my car isn't working!"
'"I ran here, dw, made it in time, they're checking her."
"They say she has a fever, some bug?"
"They want to keep her overnight, idk I mean I can't just leave her here. She looked scared."
"I'm not leaving, but she's sedated. They say she'll be fine."
"San plz reply soon."
"San I'm scared."
Choi San had never run faster in his life he was sure of it, because the moment he burst into the 24/7 pet clinic his lungs were burning worse than a forest fire, his eyes red and blurry, the world around him extremely out of focus as he stumbled to the reception, about to take the patient's name but someone called him instead.
"San!"
His head snapped in her direction, running to her, enveloping her in a tight embrace, trying to calm her down as she began to shiver in his embrace, her words coming out with choked sobs. Hand pressed against her head, he rubbed her back up and down with the other one, looking through the glass window at his cat, sprawled on the table with an IV tube attached.
"It's gonna be okay, it'll be okay."
It took almost an hour to calm her down, he had tried to convince her to go home, she had work the next day but she refused, instead blaming herself for Byeol's health. Though the doctor had assured him it was not because of her incompetency, but the cat food, the cat food Sanhad insisted on changing. Once she found that out, Choi San had to get an earful the remainder of the night, “How can you- I told you not to do that!”
“Babe I- “Don’t babe me! She doesn’t even like salmon! She prefers tuna.”
After the wonderful argument, that through the eyes of an elderly couple waiting for their dog looked like a cute domestic quarrel, came to an end. San remembered sitting next to her sulking as she gave him the silent treatment, though a few moments later her head had landed against his shoulder with a thump, followed by her snores. That night Choi San had realised two things, firstly that he was in love with her and secondly, she probably loved Byeol more than she loved him.
Hence, today they were supposed to go to a cute cafe she had been eying for a month. They had planned on taking Byeol out but since the cat had decided to stay up all night, running around the apartment she was tired today. San had just mocked her, claiming that Byeol knew it was Valentine's Day so she wanted her parents to spend the day together. However, he later countered himself with a, "Though each day is like Valentine's Day with you, love."
Clearing her throat, she dusted off the invisible dust, adjusting her cardigan before making her way to the living room once more, calling out to her significant other, "San! I'm ready to let's go." though his lack of response was confusing her, so she called out again, "Sannie where are you-" her word stopped as soon as she turned the corner, into her living room, spotting a giant starfish sprawled out on the wooden floor. Next to him was Byeol, staring down at him, San's hand pressed against his cat's back in a soothing manner, but she knew what he was doing, making sure his cat didn't move because Byeol was not only pretty but smart too, she knew what her dad was doing.
Sighing she walked closer to him, standing next to Byeol who looked up at her, blinking slowly, before turning back to stare at San. She stared down at him, arms crossed before slowly poking his side with her foot, watching him pretend and stretch, groaning as he cracked an eye open, "Oh~ you're finally done?"  
"Mhmmm." Raising a questioning brow she nodded, "And?"
"Oh, I mean" Sitting up he stretched his legs, much similar to how Byeol would do so, "Byeol said her mommy was taking so long in the shower that we fell asleep, waiting for you…" his words trailed off when he turned to look at her, his breath hitching at the sight of the soft pastels, the pretty purple, purple really was her colour. Clearing his throat he quickly got up, standing to talk in front of her, merely a few inches away from her as he stretched his arms over his head before casually bringing them down, not so discreetly wrapping them around her and slamming her into him, smirking when she whined.
"The dress will wrinkle Sannie." she tried to push him away but he pulled her closer, leaning down to peck the tip of her nose, "You can't look like a pretty pixie and not expect me to hold onto you like Captain Hook kidnapped Tinkerbell."
"What an analogy."  she mumbled, letting him squeeze her into his warm chest, feeling the vibrations as he chuckled, "You look very pretty…I like your cardigan."
"Thanks, your mom gave it to me last birthday. " Her arms wrapped around his waist, letting him gently sway them from side to side.
“Who do you think chose it?” he smiled down at her, finally meeting her with a gentle kiss, one she savoured greatly, hands fisting his shirt as his palm pressed against her back before slowly trailing down, though their little moment came to halt sudden when a high-pitched squeak caught their ears. Pulling back, she looked down at Byeol, frowning before turning to look at San, “Why isn’t she wearing her leash?” “What do you mean?”
Tutting at her gorgeous idiot of a man, she pulled away completely before crouching to grab the cat and walking towards the door where they hung coats and her leash. “I said we’re going to the café.”
“I know,” he mumbled scratching his head, a bit confused as to what she meant, “I got a booking for it, no? Why are you – we can’t take her there and it's almost time for our reservation.”
“Aww~ don’t listen to daddy, Byeol” San watched her talk to his cat instead of him, watching her put on Byeol’s harness and leash, somewhat impressed because Byeol never let him do that this easily, though the next statement had him blushing mad. “He’s a bit slow, handsome, but slow, he forgot we’re going to a cat café, you’ll have fun there~ Won’t you baby~”
Letting out a hearty chuckle he closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief, of course she’d come up with this idea on her own. She had mentioned earlier how leaving Byeol home wasn’t fun especially when the cat was their ‘child’ and leaving their child unattended was cruel. He watched the cat jump off the table and onto the floor, meowing up at his lover who sent Byeol a flying kiss, San didn’t know what heaven was, but if anyone were to ask him to describe what it looked like, the view was right in front of him.
“Any kisses for me?” He asked walking up to his two girls, who were almost out the door, pausing when she winked at him, “depends big boy. Might need to send our baby back home for a while if that’s what you want.” And that had the man shivering with excitement running after her as the two made it to the elevator, already planning on asking someone or one of the guys to watch his little baby for the night, so he could have a night with his kitten.
“Don’t worry, I think that can be arranged, kitten.”
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Taglist: @edenesth @mlysalt @spooo00oky @cereal-simp @yessa-vie
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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 4 months
Text
The Danger Zone (Part 13) - Hangman
Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC
Word Count: 3.9k
This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY.
Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Daddy and Mommy Issues Galore; Arguments; Crying; Angst with a Dash of Despair; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description
Summary: You show Jake the envelope and set off a bomb in your relationship.
Series Master List
Master List
A.N. It's Chapter 13 y'all. What else did you expect?
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Jake returned home after work, expecting you to be up and walking around. But when you didn’t call out to him as he shut the door behind him, he went looking for you. 
Jake walked further into your shared apartment and paused when he saw you sprawled out on the couch, asleep with the small fan blowing cool air straight onto your face. You were still wearing the clothes that you wore to work that morning. 
He stopped in front of you, taking a moment for himself. He had rehearsed what he wanted to say to you about the promotion. But now that he was home and you were asleep meant that he had more time to think over those words. 
Because it was not going to be an easy discussion. 
Telling you about what the promotion meant for the next few months was not a conversation that he even wanted to think about. The absolute last thing that he wanted to do was stress you out. And the second that you started to look upset or if you started to cry, he’d crumble into dust. He couldn’t think about your broken expression. He couldn’t. It’d haunt him for the rest of his days. 
So, he decided to start with the easier audience. 
“I got promoted today, little one,” he began softly, keeping his voice low as he squatted down in front of your bump. “You shouldn’t be surprised. It was overdue, actually.” The joking smile slipped from his lips as he glanced up at your peaceful sleeping expression. “But there’s a risk that I won’t be here when you finally arrive in a few months. There was always a risk but now it got a little bigger.”
Jake bit his lip and looked down at the floor, trying to keep his own fears and emotions stable. He deserved the promotion he got. He wanted it. He craved it. He earned it. 
But the timing couldn’t have been more shitty. 
“How do you think your mom would take the news?” he whispered to your bump, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his thighs. “Not well, right?” After a moment of silence, he nodded and added, “Yeah, that’s what I thought too.” 
Jake turned to look up at your face, his heart stabbed by the image of how calm and rested you looked laying there. He should have been celebrating. He was the first to get promoted among the Dagger Squad. Cyclone seemed to think that he had a long and successful career in the Navy ahead of him. 
But why did it have to come at the cost of the biggest moments of his personal life? Ones that he would not be able to get back if he missed them. 
“Let’s just keep it between us for right now,” Jake whispered to your bump. “I'll break it to your mom slowly, okay?”
Standing up, Jake leaned over and slowly removed your shoes in an effort to make you more comfortable. There wasn’t much else that he could do without moving you and risking waking you up. So, he got up, changed, and moved to start making dinner. He knew that you would probably be starving when you woke up.
Jake was in the middle of stirring the sauce when he heard you move. Looking over his shoulder at you, Jake removed the pan from the heat and walked over to you as you sat up, rubbing your eyes tiredly. Jake sat on the coffee table in front of you as you glanced out the window, noting the setting sun.
“What time is it?” you yawned.
“Not too late. I’m making dinner,” Jake replied, causing you to smile. “How’d you sleep?”
“Like a rock, apparently,” you mused, sitting up more. “My back’s going to kill me in a few hours, I know it.” 
“Anything I can do to help?”
“No, it’s fine. I think I’ll just shower,” you stated, moving to get up. 
Jake offered you his hands and you let him help you up. Pressing a kiss to his lips, you turned and headed for the bathroom. You returned a few minutes later, dressed in one of his shirts and a loose pair of shorts, as Jake was placing a healthy portion of food on a plate for you. 
“Thank you,” you told him softly as he handed you a fork. “How was work?” 
“Fine,” he responded, his voice low. 
“Just fine?” you asked, dropping your voice low in an attempt to match his own. “You know that makes me think that something bad happened.” 
“Well, something did happen,” Jake stated, causing you to set down your fork. When you looked up at him expectantly, he continued, “I got promoted. You’re looking at Lieutenant Commander Seresin.” 
“Oh, Jake,” you praised, getting up from your seat. Walking around the island, you pulled him in for a tight hug. “Congratulations.” 
“Thank you.” 
“You deserve it. You’re an amazing aviator,” you replied, releasing him from your hug. You pressed a loving kiss to his lips before smiling up at him. “I’m so proud of you.”
He nodded and gave you another kiss, lingering, and promising more later before pulling back. Resting his forehead against your own, he cupped your bump, gently rubbing his hands over your belly.
As if it was going to be the last perfect moment that the three of you were going to share. 
“Thank you.”
You retook your seat and the two of you chatted some more. You were in the middle of telling him about the crazy lady who called your office earlier when you remembered the weird envelope. 
“And something came in the mail,” you stated, getting up again. Jake watched you curiously, a little confused. You grabbed the blue envelope and returned to the island, holding it out for Jake to take. “It’s from your mom, I think.”
The sharp clatter of Jake’s fork against his plate caused you to wince. 
Studying Jake’s expression, you frowned. Your boyfriend’s warm and comfortable demeanor was gone in a flash and now he was staring at the envelope in your hand like it was a stick of dynamite that he only had three seconds to diffuse before it blew up in both of your faces. 
“Jake?”
“I’ll take it,” Jake replied firmly, taking the envelope from your grip. 
You watched as he walked around and tossed it into the trash, ignoring your incredulous expression. He closed the trash can and returned to his seat, as if nothing ever happened. 
“Jake,” you stated, a bit scolding with your tone. “What the hell?”
You were tired of just pretending like it didn’t bother you that he didn’t share anything about his past with you. You let it slide what felt like a thousand times in the name of keeping the peace and keeping Jake comfortable. Especially when he just shut down and acted out like this at the drop of a hat. Frankly, it scared you, how quickly he could just change.
“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
“Jake,” you stated more firmly as you walked to the trash can. “Why are you just throwing it out?”
“Just leave it,” Jake grunted, not looking up. 
“Why?” you challenged him, opening the trash can. 
“Just drop it,” Jake replied definitively, still not meeting your gaze. 
“Jake, I’m not one of your ensigns. And you don’t get to order me around like one,” you snapped a bit, pulling the envelope out of the trash can. Tossing it onto the countertop in front of him, you stared Jake down. “Your mother sent you a card. Why is that causing you to shut down like this?”
“I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’ve got enough to worry about and I don’t want to stress you out about it.”
“Can you stop using kiddy gloves with me?” you growled, folding your arms over your chest. “I’m pregnant. And ever since we told everyone, people have treated me differently. Acting like I’m weak, like I’m going to fly off the handle, or have some massive medical episode if they have a serious conversation with me. Just tell me, Jake. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”
“I’m not trying to treat you differently,” Jake defended himself. “There are just things that I don’t want to discuss.”
“Jake, we’ve pushed off this whole conversation for months now. And I would like to have it before the baby comes. And if not now, when?” you asked, him before pointing at the card in front of him. “Why is a little card causing your whole personality to change like this?”
“It hasn’t.”
“Then why can’t you even look at me right now?”
Jake turned to face you with an annoyed expression that made you grind your teeth together. The two of you had a bit of a staring contest before Jake sighed and looked away, running a hand through his hair. 
“I don’t want to fight about something so stupid and stress you out unnecessarily—“
“—You avoiding this conversation is unnecessarily stressing me out,” you interjected, causing Jake’s expression to sour again. “Every time I try to learn about your past, you shut down. A switch just flips in your head and you’re not you anymore. And that terrifies me, Jake.”
“It shouldn’t,” Jake insisted stubbornly. 
“Well, it does,” you snapped back at him. “I mean, if our baby asks you about your parents in a few years, are you going to shut down then? Are you going to storm off? Are you going to yell at them?”
“That’s not fair,” Jake growled, turning back to you. 
“It’s not?”
“No, it’s not. Don’t bring the baby into it.”
“Jake, the baby is the whole reason why we’re here,” you stated, causing his expression to shift again. 
“So, you never would have actually wanted to be in a relationship with me if I didn’t get you pregnant?”
“That’s not what I said, Jake," you snapped back at him.
“Then what are you trying to say?” Jake asked, annoyed as he stood up. “That I wasn’t worth the trouble of telling your brother and Maverick that you’re your own person if I didn’t get you pregnant? That I was only worth it when you had to deal with me?”
“So you get to bring my family into this conversation but I had to learn your mother’s name from an envelope that you would have thrown out if I didn’t see it first?” you shot back at him. “And it’s not my fault that you and my brother and Mav had shit go down before I even moved to San Diego.”
“I’m not saying that it’s your fault,” Jake stressed. "But I'm getting really fucking tired of having to prove myself to them. Nothing I do is ever going to be good enough for them, would make me good enough for you in their eyes."
"What did they tell you?" you asked, frowning.
"Jesus Christ, what didn't they tell me? Your brother thinks I'm still going to walk out on you. That I'm going to be a shit father. Mav doesn't say anything but don't tell me that he doesn't have a plan to get rid of me," Jake stated, causing you to stare up at him with an expression like you didn't know what to do.
"I'll talk to them about it, Jake," you stated quietly, causing Jake to sigh and look away. "What?"
"Are you actually going to talk to them? Are you?"
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" you snapped, getting steadily annoyed.
“I’m just saying that your family isn’t perfect. And sometimes it feels like you need a reminder.”
“At least you know who my family is," you replied defensively. "I couldn’t tell you anything about your life prior to when my brother met you. And that’s weird, Jake!”
“Why do you care so much about it?” he pressed, causing your temper to flare up. 
“Because we’re having a baby together! And you’re making me feel like I’m insane for asking you questions about your past!”
“There are things that you don’t want to talk about, and I respect your boundaries. Why can’t you respect that I don’t want to talk about my parents?” Jake demanded, turning away from you. 
“Jake, I’m not asking for every little painful detail about your childhood. I’m just asking for an explanation for why you shut down like this when we talk about your family."
“Because my parents are assholes and I have no intention of talking to them ever again.”
“Why are you never going to talk to them again? Help me understand that, Jake,” you practically begged him for some kind of emotional depth. “I don’t understand, so help me, Jake. Because I would give a hell of a lot to have my parents back. What happened that made you feel this way? What happened that made you feel that cutting them out of your life was the only way to protect yourself?”
“I’m trying to protect you and our baby at this point,” Jake replied after a few moments. 
“Why do we need protection from your parents?”
“Because they’re snobby assholes who would never consider you part of their family. And I know that you’ve built up this image of our kid having loving family on both sides and grandparents to spoil them, but that’s not going to happen. My family isn’t going to want anything to do with you or the baby regardless of anything that you do.” Jake shifted his weight on his feet before asking, “Is that a good enough explanation for why I don’t want to talk about my parents?”
“It’s a start,” you stated, causing Jake to scoff and shake his head, turning away from you.
“Is everything fair game now?” Jake muttered sarcastically, earning a glare from you. 
“What have I ever kept from you, Jake?” you asked calmly, glaring over at him. "Really, what do you want me to tell you about?" 
“Why’d you break off your engagement to Connor?” Jake asked bluntly, causing you to stare at him incredulously. 
“Are you fucking kidding me, Jake?”
“No,” Jake returned, causing your temper to raise quickly again. “If you broke up with a guy that you were with, got engaged to, after five years together and your family seemed to love, adore, and respect the guy, what’s keeping you here with me? Besides the fact that I knocked you up.”
Grinding your teeth together, you took a breath to settle yourself. You turned back to Jake, who waited expectantly for your response. Your mind made up, you straightened, and stared him down.
“I broke up with Connor because he was an asshole who kept things from me because he felt that I didn’t deserve to know them, even though we were getting married, belittled me when I tried to call him out on it, and made me feel like shit because he knew that I loved him, and he took advantage of that to keep me there.” You paused for a moment, your lips wobbling a bit, before you added harshly, “But I’m really fucking glad that I learned from that mistake.”
Jake’s annoyed expression broke, but you didn’t stand around to watch it fall. Turning on your heel as tears started to gather in your eyes, you walked away from him. Grabbing your phone, purse, and keys, you moved to slip your shoes on as Jake walked over to you. 
“Where are you going?”
“This is your apartment. So, I’m going to get some air.”
“You shouldn’t be driving when you’re upset," Jake insisted, a bit frantic as he gently reached for your arm.
“I can take care of myself, Jake,” you snapped, pulling your arm out of his grip. 
“But you’re pregnant.”
“Congratulations, Seresin, you have eyes.”
“Wait—”
You turned and shot him a look that made his blood turn cold. Reaching for the doorknob, you yanked it open harshly and stepped out into the hallway. 
“Don’t follow me.”
The door slammed shut behind you, causing Jake to wince and lower his head. 
~~~~~
Maverick was sitting on his couch, watching a baseball game when his phone started to buzz. Rolling over, he raised an eyebrow when he saw that Jake was calling him. Answering it, he held his phone to his ear. 
“Jake?”
“Mav,” Jake returned, his tone sounding off. 
“Something wrong?” When Jake didn’t reply immediately, Maverick sat up, concerned, and alert. “What’s wrong? Is it the baby?”
“No. We . . . we had a fight and she stormed off and she’s not answering my calls and I’m pretty sure that she never wants to see or talk to me ever again, but I need someone to go and look for her and make sure that she’s okay,” Jake rambled, starting to get more and more hysterical as he went on.
And Maverick only felt his concern grow when he heard the emotion in Jake’s voice. Hangman was never the type to panic. Maverick had seen other members of the Dagger Squad panic in the air and on the ground, even just for a few seconds, but never Hangman.
If Jake was freaking out, Maverick was going to freak out.
“And I didn’t know who else she would turn to and I didn’t even want to think about calling Rooster—”
“—No, I can handle it,” Maverick agreed, walking over to the door. Sliding on his jacket, Maverick adjusted the phone in his hand as he reached for his keys. “Did she say where she was going?”
“No.”
“What set her off in the first place?” 
“We were talking about my family.”
Maverick knew that wasn’t the whole story and that Jake was probably avoiding saying specifics to keep Maverick on the phone, but he didn’t press it. You were out there somewhere, alone, upset, and pregnant and that was Maverick’s priority. He could deal with whatever set the whole situation off in the first place once you were found safe and sound. 
“She took her car?”
“Yes.”
“What direction did she head in when she left?”
“She’s heading towards base or you or Rooster.”
“Alright, well . . .” Maverick trailed off when he saw your car pull into his driveway. 
“What?”
“She’s here,” Maverick stated, hanging his keys up.
Sliding his jacket off his shoulders, Maverick paused for a moment, thinking about what else to say to Jake. Was Maverick shocked that the two of you had a fight that resulted in one of you storming off? No, not really. But he needed the facts. And he first and foremost needed to know that you were okay.
As did Jake.
“I’ll make sure that she and the baby are safe. You don’t have to worry about them here.”
“Thank you,” Jake croaked out quietly. 
The two men stood on the line in silence, both knowing that there were more conversations to be had, but both also knowing that their priorities were elsewhere at the moment. 
“I’ll call or text you if she’s ready to talk to you.”
“Alright,” was all Jake replied. 
“Bye, Jake.”
Maverick hung up the phone and opened the door, taking a step out as you slowly walked down the path from the driveway. Tears had already dried on your cheeks and fresh ones appeared in your eyes when you saw Maverick waiting for you. After a moment, you broke down and Maverick rushed forward, gathering you in his arms and quickly leading you inside the house. 
“Jake and I had a fight,” you cried as Maverick closed the door behind you.
“It’s going to be alright.”
~~~~~
Jake sat with just the kitchen light on, giving him just a little bit of light to see. Looking at the blue envelope on the coffee table with his mother’s scrawl written on it, Jake slowly picked it up. Ripping the envelope open, Jake pulled out a simple card like the ones that people would buy in a store.
It was a simple card that just helped destroy your relationship. 
Opening the card, Jake paused when he saw the cartoon baby on the left side of the card. With his heart beating harder in his chest, Jake turned to read the paragraphs that his mother wrote to him.
Jake,
I hope that this card finds you somehow, unlike my other messages. I miss you, sweetheart, and hope that you’re being safe flying around and not pushing limits like you usually do. Though I guess you get that from your father. He asks about you still. I know that the two of you have your differences, but maybe this new phase of life that you’re entering will change your perspective a little bit. 
I heard that you’re having a baby with a girl out in California. I hope that everything’s going well with her and that she and the baby are healthy. And that you’re getting married, which is the right thing to do. And I hope that the two of you love each other and your child with everything in your hearts. 
I’d love to meet her, Jake. And give her a beautiful gift. She’s the mother of my grandbaby and if you love her, I love her too, honey. You’re going to be a wonderful father. I hope you have a strong, sweet little boy to carry on the Seresin name. 
I haven’t told your father about what I heard, but that doesn’t mean that he hasn’t heard it. Please, honey, call me. The number’s the same. I just want to talk.
Love,
Mom
Jake set the card down and held his head in his hands for a moment. His mind was racing and his hands were starting to shake. There was too much going on and he had control over too little of it for him to feel calm and collected. He felt like the world was spinning and he was just getting thrown around. 
Angrily tossing the card away, Jake got to his feet and stormed off, heading down the hall to his bedroom. But when he stepped inside and saw your pregnancy pillow there, mocking him, a batch of hot, frustrated tears slipped down his cheeks. 
Dropping to his knees, Jake slammed his fist onto the carpeted floor, before holding his head in his hands and breaking down. 
~~~~~
You laid on your side in Maverick’s spare bedroom, staring out the window. You were in no emotional state to go back to see Jake and talk about your fight and you didn’t want to make it worse. Maverick told you to stay as long as you needed, and you were taking him up on his offer. You told him not to tell anyone else about what happened for now and he agreed. And after giving you some dinner and a thousand pillows, Maverick left you alone with your thoughts. 
Looking out the window, you rubbed your hand down your bump, hoping that you’d at least feel your baby move tonight. But when they didn’t move like normal, you couldn’t help the choked sob that escaped your lips nor the tears down your cheeks. 
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roosterforme · 8 months
Text
Batting Practice Part 28 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You finally have a wedding dress and a hopeful plan for the future. But when Molly caves and tells you what's been bothering her, you desperately wish she would take your advice.
Warnings: Angst, fluff, swearing, pregnancy, mentions of abortion
Length: 4600 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader
Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.
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Work was insanely busy, and the month of August really started to get away from you. It was getting precariously close to September, and you really needed to buy a wedding dress. There wouldn't even be time to get anything altered at this point, and you winced as you thought about what that might mean.
Your weekends and evenings had been consumed with activities. Bradley's baseball games, visits to the park, rainy days scouring the flea market for baseball cards. Honestly, you couldn't remember ever being happier, and you made sure you told Bradley that all the time. 
"We don't need to have an actual wedding," you whispered when you couldn't stop yawning, curled up in bed with Bradley. "We can just visit the justice of the peace."
He pushed you onto your back and smothered your entire face in kisses. "No way, Kitten. I'm not doing what Danny did. Besides, I want to have a wedding."
You wrapped your arms and legs around him as he kissed your paw print charm. "I guess I better buy a dress then."
"I don't care if you get married in this," he rasped, tugging on the old shirt you were wearing. "But we're having the wedding."
You rolled your eyes hard. "Since I'm absolutely not wearing this, I guess I'll keep my plans to go dress shopping with Molly in the morning."
"You do that, Kitten. And I'll take Ev and Bob out for breakfast at that place you hate that everyone else likes."
"The place with the sticky floor?" you asked, grimacing.
"I'm pretty sure it's just sticky from maple syrup."
"Keep telling yourself that, Coach. That place is gross."
He snorted and rolled back onto his side with you. "Let's get some sleep. I'm fucking beat. I love you."
You were asleep within minutes. And then as things usually went on the weekends, Everett was in your room, waking both of you up, complaining he was hungry first thing in the morning.
Bradley groaned and pulled him up into bed. "If you go back to sleep for another hour, I'll take you out for chocolate chip waffles, okay?"
"Yay! I love that place!" Everett cheered before quieting down and snuggling into the pillows next to Bradley. You kissed his forehead and then Bradley's and then slipped out of bed to take a shower. They could do their own thing for breakfast, but you and Molly would be having a mimosa lunch after you bought some dresses. And nobody was going to tell you no.
You ended up leaving for the dress boutique the same time Bradley and Ev left for breakfast, but when you got to the shop, Molly wasn't there yet. "Typical," you muttered, texting her to let her know you'd meet her inside. 
After fifteen minutes, you felt completely overwhelmed. There were so many options, and you just wanted something simple. All of the fabric was starting to feel the same under your fingertips, and nothing looked quite right. Honestly, Molly was so much better at this stuff than you were. Maybe she forgot about the plan? You started to panic without her here. Perhaps you could see if Nat was free. 
Just as you turned, ready to dash back out to your car, Molly walked in. "There you are," you sighed in relief, but then you gasped. "What's wrong? You look terrible."
"Nothing," she muttered. But her skin looked dull, and she was wearing an outfit you would have never imagined she'd leave the house in. Was she wearing one of Bob's undershirts? She was barely meeting your eyes now. "Did you pick one out yet?" Even her voice sounded lifeless. She was usually so expressive.
"No," you said carefully. "I was waiting for you. I can't do this kind of thing without your help."
"Okay," she replied as she started to grab a few dresses off the racks and handed them to you. 
You took them all in your arms and said, "Molly, just tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing's wrong," she snapped. "Try those on. I'll be in one of the chairs."
Unsure about what to do, you just did as you were told. But something was wrong, and you thought about texting Bradley or Bob from inside the dressing room. But you didn't want to upset her further. So you pulled on the first dress she had given you, and you were shocked. It was beautiful, it fit you well, and it wasn't too fancy for the wedding location.  
"Molly, you're a genius," you said as you opened the door. 
She just nodded at you from her seat with a small smile. "You look very pretty. Try on another one."
"Okay," you told her, watching as she rubbed her hands over her face. She looked like she was about to cry. You quickly changed into a second dress which was also pretty great, and you walked out a second time to find that she actually was crying now. 
"Molly, please," you begged, bending down to try to wipe her tears away, but she just shook her head and quickly stood up, avoiding your reach. "Talk to me." You followed her across the store, down a row of dresses, and you could hear her sobbing as she rushed away from you.
Once she reached the back corner, she had nowhere else to go. When she turned to face you, she looked like she was in agony. Tears were dripping down her face and she shook her head. "I fucked up," she sobbed miserably. "I fucked up so bad."
"Molly," you gasped, reaching for her. This time she tripped forward into your arms, and you held her against the fabric of the wedding dress you were wearing. "It's okay to talk to me about it." You rubbed her back as thought after horrible thought popped up in your mind. Was it something to do with Bob? With work? You'd never, ever seen her this upset before. 
But now she couldn't even talk. She was just crying and shaking in your arms. You kissed the top of her head and held her, glaring at anyone who tried to come back this far in the aisle until they turned back. And eventually, she pulled away from you a few inches, and she let you wipe some of her tears away.
You didn't push her to say anything. You knew better than that. You just held her face in your hands and waited.
She took a deep, ragged breath and let it out slowly. Her voice was a soft, trembling whisper as she said, "I'm pregnant."
Your lips parted wordlessly before you closed them again. She was obviously very upset about this fact, so you weren't sure what to say. But you eventually settled on, "What did Bob say when you told him? He's upset?" You couldn't actually imagine Bob being upset with Molly about anything, but you supposed it was possible.
She shook her head in a jerky motion. She sounded so small as she said, "I haven't told him."
"Molly," you sighed, pulling her in for another tight hug. "How long have you known?"
"About a week," she gasped, pressing her tear streaked face to your neck. She'd kept this inside for a week. You were honestly shocked. "I suspected it for a little while at least. I didn't think it was actually possible at first." She was hiccupping between words. "I just thought my cycle was off. But then I took a test the other day. And then I took a lot more tests."
There were so many questions you wanted to ask. How far along was she? When was she going to tell Bob? "Molly, were you using birth control?"
"Of course!" she keened. "I'm not stupid! I work in healthcare!"
"I know, I know," you soothed, rubbing her back. "I was just checking." After you got pregnant with Everett, you'd made her promise to be safe.
"But I switched from one pill to a different one," she whispered. "I did everything I was supposed to fucking do! How could I have let this happen?"
"Shh," you whispered. She was sobbing again. "Does Bob not want to have kids with you?"
She pulled away from you and threw her hands up in the air. "How the hell am I supposed to even know that?!" she asked, loud and sarcastic. "I've only known him for like four months! We have never, not even once, never talked about having kids together! I know he likes them. He loves Ev and Piper, but that's different."
You nodded, reaching for her hands and stroking her knuckles with your thumbs. "Molly, you have to tell him."
"No," she said vehemently. "No way. I'm so mad at myself. I don't want him to look at me differently now. I told him I was on birth control. I promised him there was nothing to worry about." Silent tears were streaming down her cheeks, almost like they were never going to stop. "I can't tell him. But he knows something's wrong. He thinks I'm going to leave him, and honestly, maybe I should."
"Don't say that," you whispered. "Don't say that about Bob."
"Exactly!" she said, pointing at you in anger. "That's exactly it! You don't even worry about me anymore, because I'm with Bob! I finally got my shit together. I'm finally dating a good guy. A stable one who actually loves me! He loves me! Or he did. I can't believe I fucked this up. It was perfect!"
She sank to the floor at your feet and cried, burying her face in what you were now certain was Bob's undershirt. You tried to sit down next to her, but you had to fold the dress a little awkwardly. And then a sales clerk came over. 
"Excuse me, but you can't just crawl around the floor in one of our dresses. And you shouldn't be crying near them either."
You took a deep breath to reply, but Molly was already saying, "Fuck off, lady. Your goddamn dress will be just fine, okay?" 
As the woman bustled away, looking completely scandalized, you turned back to your sister. Her gaze looked steely now as she licked her lips. Her voice was calmer as she said, "I'm not going to tell him. I'm going to pretend to go away for a couple days, get an abortion, and then never mention any of this again."
"Molly." You were shaking your head. "You can't. That's not fair to Bob. You need to tell him about this."
"So I can end up like you?" she said, and her words struck you mute. "No, I know, and I'm sorry, but there's not always going to be a Bradley waiting at the end of the tunnel, okay? You got lucky. Everett is the perfect kid. And somehow you upgraded from Danny to something much better. But I'll never get this lucky again. I'll never, ever find something better than Bob. And I don't even know if I can be a mom. Because I've seen you do it, and it's actually fucking impossible, okay?" She was crying and laying on the floor, inhaling the scent of the undershirt. "It's either leave Bob or get an abortion and never tell him. And I know I can't bring myself to leave him."
----------------------
Bradley was sopping up a plate full of syrup with a pancake when Bob finally caved. "Molly's seems unhappy."
"What makes you say that?" Bradley asked cautiously, glancing at Everett playing a game on his phone. He thought back to that night at the Hard Deck a few weeks ago when everyone had been in a great mood. Molly and Bob had sex in the bathroom. He'd heard Molly tell Bob she loved him. 
"She's been acting strange for the past few weeks. I can't get her to talk to me." Bob's face looked helpless as he said, "I just want to make her happy, but I don't think I actually know how. She's gotta be planning to move out."
"No," Bradley said. Truly, this didn't make sense to him. "It has to be something else? Work?"
Bob just shrugged. "I wish I knew." He looked like he was in pain as he reached for his wallet, but Bradley handed his credit card to the waiter.
"It's my turn," he insisted. "I think you should head home and talk to Molly now. I bet they're done shopping and getting margaritas or whatever they're doing."
"Mimosas," Bob whispered. "Molly likes mimosas."
"Right," Bradley agreed. "Let's just skip the batting cages, and you can get home and talk to her since I'm sure they must be done with mimosas."
Bob just nodded and barely managed to say goodbye as he walked back to his truck.
"What's wrong with Uncle Bob?" Everett asked on the way home. Bradley winced.
"Not sure, kiddo. But I bet he'll sort it out soon."
Bradley was actually a little surprised that you were home when he and Everett got there. "Did you pick a dress?" he asked, wrapping you up in a hug. 
"Yeah," you mumbled, frowning up at him, and Bradley wondered if this had to do with Molly.
He kissed your forehead and said, "Hey, Ev. Remember our plans for the Phillies room upstairs?"
"Yeah!" 
"Why don't you get the measuring tape out of the closet and start measuring the room. I'll be up in a minute."
Bradley watched him dash up the stairs with a smile on his face, and then he turned back to you. "What's wrong with Molly?"
You pressed your lips together and whispered, "She's pregnant."
"Oh," he grunted. "Bob seems to be under the impression that she's going to leave him."
"I mean..." you said with a shrug. 
"She wouldn't leave him. He's perfect for her. Oh fuck... she didn't tell him yet!"
You shook your head and looked like you were going to cry. "She's so upset, Bradley. It was unplanned. She thinks she destroyed her relationship, and she doesn't intend to tell him at all."
"She has to," he said, shaking his head. "They'll be fine. Bob loves kids." He paused before asking, "Were they using birth control? Yours seems pretty sturdy, maybe she should have been on that one."
"Bradley," you said, rolling your eyes as he rubbed your tummy. "I told her to tell Bob, but I don't know that she will."
"Fuck," he whispered. "What do we do?"
"Just wait," you responded softly. "She said she'd never get as lucky as me. She said she'd never find someone else as good as Bob later. She said she doesn't think she can be a mom. And I think I fucked that up for her, because she saw me do it all by myself for so long." Now you were crying, and Everett was shouting for him. "Just go up with Ev. I'll be on the deck."
You pushed him away and went to sit outside while you cried, and Bradley didn't know what else to do, so he just went upstairs. 
----------------------
You ended up buying the wedding dress that you were wearing when you sat on the floor of the bridal shop. The sales team was so obnoxious, and you were honestly afraid Molly was going to scream at them, so you just bought it and left. Good thing you liked it, because it was yours now. You were looking in the mirror in your bedroom, trying to zip it up when Molly called.
"You okay?" you asked when you answered the phone. 
"Yeah," she replied. It had been a few days since the dress shopping fiasco, and you'd been checking on her constantly. She hadn't told you much. You weren't even sure if she'd had a conversation with Bob. Frankly, you weren't sure about the status of her pregnancy.
"You wanna come over?" you asked her. "I have ice cream hidden in the freezer."
She laughed. "You always have ice cream hidden in the freezer. But I can't. Bob and I are going out for dinner, and I have to work at six tomorrow morning."
A dinner date with her boyfriend? That sounded promising. You kept your voice upbeat. "Where are you going for dinner?"
"I wanted sushi, of course, but we're going out for Italian instead."
"And Bob's okay?" you asked. You kind of missed the days of tee ball practices and games when you'd see him more often. Of course you could just call him, but you wanted to hear it from Molly.
Her response was soft, and she still didn't quite sound like her usual self, but it was a far cry better than seeing her on the floor in the bridal shop. "Yeah. I actually just wanted to ask you if it's okay if I wear a plain navy blue dress for your wedding. I can text you a picture of it."
Your heart started beating faster. Your wedding was close, and your sister seemed at least marginally interested in it. "Molly, you can wear anything you want. You don't need to send me a picture."
But the message already came through. It was a cute, form fitting dress with little cap sleeves. "It's perfect! Get it! You'll look adorable."
"It's just that it's stretchy, and I'm already feeling bloated, so I want to get something that I know will be okay."
Your eyes went wide as you looked in the mirror. "That's great, Molly. You'll look perfect no matter what. And Bob can wear anything."
She chuckled. "I think he's planning on matching Bradley and Ev, but I'm not supposed to tell you that."
You felt a little better as you ended the call. 
"Kitten?" Bradley shouted as he walked up the stairs. 
"Shit," you muttered, trying to unzip your dress. "Don't come in here!" you yelled.
"What's wrong?" he asked as you practically slammed the bedroom door in his face. 
"I'm wearing my wedding dress!" You tried to jiggle the zipper, but it wasn't budging. You took a deep breath and held it, holding it in, but that didn't help either. "The zipper is stuck!"
"Open the door. I'll keep my eyes closed."
You let him in, and he stumbled toward you until you took his hand and placed it on the zipper at the side of your dress. He eased it down slowly and without issue, never even cracking an eye open. "This is not how I imagined you taking this dress off of me," you whispered before kissing his cheek.
He smiled softly, but he said, "Once I'm able to look at you, we need to talk."
"About what?" you asked slowly, realizing he looked a little frustrated in spite of his closed eyes. "The Phillies room? I said you two can do whatever you want in there."
You could actually hear Everett sorting through Bradley's tubs of baseball cards right now. "No, not about the Phillies room. Meet me downstairs."
Then he was gone, and your dress was hanging awkwardly off your body. You changed and headed downstairs to find Bradley sitting on the couch with his legs splayed wide and his hands on his thighs. 
"What's up?" you asked him, slowly making your way through the living room. His face was nearly expressionless, but you could still tell he was upset. 
Bradley cocked his head to the side. "Is Danny giving you a hard time?"
You just shrugged. "What makes you ask that?"
"I saw that huge packet of information from your lawyer on the kitchen counter. You need to talk to me about this." His voice was harsh, like you'd never heard it before. "Be honest with me, Kitten. If we're getting married, if Ev is going to be my stepson," he said, gesturing upstairs with his hand, "then you need to let me know what's going on here!"
"I'm sorry," you whispered. "He's not... giving me a hard time. Well, I guess he kind of is." You sighed and sank down onto the couch. "He's been served with papers. He has a few months to comply, so I just know he's going to take as much time as he can before paying me a cent of child support. And the worst part is, I'll have to wait until Ev is a legal adult before I can have his birth certificate amended." 
Bradley looked pensive, scratching the corner of his mustache with narrowed eyes. "I'm sorry, Kitten. I wish there was something more I can do. You already asked your lawyer if there's anything I can do after we get married?"
You didn't want to keep the truth from him any longer, but you just simply said, "I'll let you know, Coach. We'll figure it out." Really, you weren't sure if you would better benefit from having Danny out of your lives completely or getting child support from him. 
When Bradley tugged on your arm and stretched out on the couch, you started to smile. "Come here," he whispered, gently pulling you on top of him. "You know you don't deserve all the runaround, right?" He kissed you and wrapped his hands around around your waist, letting his palms rest on your lower back. "And Ev doesn't deserve anything Danny does."
"I know," you replied, pushing your hands up through his hair. "But we're making out pretty well these days. Got ourselves an upgrade." Your lips met his neck in a soft kiss that had him tightening his grip on you. 
He glanced toward the stairs. "Kitten," he whispered, his tone a warning that made you feel warm all over. When he met your eyes he was shaking his head. "I wanna take you to bed, but I need to get to practice."
"Mmm," you hummed, letting your eyes drift closed as he kissed you. "Later then. When you're all sweaty and hot."
"You're killing me," he grunted, standing with you in his arms, pressed against his body. He kissed your forehead and said, "I'll go see what Ev is up to before I head to practice. Bob told me he's skipping it tonight. Not sure what that's all about."
"He's taking Molly out to dinner."
"That's.... good?" he said, but it sounded more like a question.
"I hope so," you whispered. It felt strange to know that your sister wasn't going to be coming to you immediately with all of her problems now. Because it sounded like a decision had been made. You just hoped that Bob could handle her and all of her glorious personality. 
"I'll check on Ev and then get going. I told him he can organize my baseball cards however he wants. But between you and me, I hid most of the really valuable ones under our bed."
"Good call," you told him with a laugh. 
Once he had gone to practice, you went upstairs to work on the boys' Phillies room with your son. While you had nixed painting the entire room red for fear of it looking like a bloody crime scene, you did let them hang up some baseball decals. Everett had apparently hung up some more Phillies posters without help, because they were very crooked, but the room was actually coming together. 
"Mom! Look!" he said, holding up a red and white pennant that said BRADLEY and looked like it was from the '80s. "Can you help me hang this up? I don't think Dad even knew it was in here with his baseball cards!"
Your breath caught like it always did when he called Bradley his dad, and it took you a minute to pull yourself together. "Yeah," you replied with a nod. "I'll help you. Let's put it up next to the door."
"And maybe I can make one with both our names out of poster board. I'm getting pretty good at making signs and stuff."
"You really are, Ev," you told him as he taped the pennant into place. 
"Do you think we can all dress as baseball players for Halloween this year? Are you getting married before or after Halloween? I keep forgetting. Do you think Aunt Molly would dress as the Phanatic? I think she'd probably be better at it than you. No offense. But we could go trick or treating with them, because then there would be more people to help hold all the candy I get. Dad will dress as a baseball player and hold my candy if I ask him to. I'm pretty sure."
"Oh, Ev," you said, hugging him as tears filled your eyes. "We can do whatever you want, okay?"
He let you hug him for a few seconds before he wiggled his way free and asked, "Why are you crying? You haven't been crying as much."
It was because you didn't want to have to think about Danny. You didn't want him to try to pull some stunt in a few years or withhold child support and make you chase him down. He was the type who would make you waste a bunch of time and money just because he could. He would make your life miserable now because he always blamed you for ruining his life with Everett. 
"I'm sorry," you gasped. "I'm sorry I'm crying." You pulled him in closer again. You knew. You were sure. You would better benefit from having Danny out of your lives completely. And Bradley was the easiest way to get this weight off your chest, because whenever you thought about Danny, it made your body ache. You wanted to be able to stop thinking about him. About the way he had hurt Everett. About the way the law had been designed in such a way that guaranteed he'd be able to continue to hurt Everett in the future.
"Did I make you sad?" Everett asked softly. "We can be magicians or pirates for Halloween instead if you want."
"Oh my god, Ev," you gasped. "No, you didn't make me sad. I love you." You knelt down on the floor in front of him and kissed his cheeks. "I was just thinking about your biological dad, Danny."
Everett's expression turned to one of fear as he said, "I don't want to see him."
"You won't," you promised, pushing his hair back and kissing his forehead. All the child support in the world wouldn't matter. You didn't need it. Your son was absolutely terrified of Danny, and some money wasn't going to make up for that.
Everett seemed to accept your answer as he nodded, but he still looked concerned. "We don't even need him now."
"We never did," you agreed with a small smile. You had overheard Bradley tell Bob back in June that he would like to adopt Everett. Maybe you should just go ahead and ask him to. Maybe you should just tell him the truth: he could help remove Danny from your lives one hundred percent. "Ev, do you know what it would mean if Bradley adopted you?"
He nodded, his brow creased in slight confusion. "I think so."
"Let's talk about it, so we know it makes sense. And you can tell me if it sounds like something you might want. And then we can talk to Bradley about it. But it'll be our little secret for now."
-----------------------------
I hope Molly and Bob have come to a decision they are both comfortable with. More of that will be posted in The Curveball. Next up for Coach and Kitten....the wedding! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32
PART 29
Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!
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Text
Rigor Mortis (part 3)
College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader
Tumblr media
(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,
Part 2, Part 4
summary: A bad day turns even worse. Miguel surprises you.
warnings: angst angst angst, mentions of grief, very vague mention of domestic violence and abuse.
recommended reading: the painting Ophelia by John Everett Millais, and the song Ophelia by the lumineers.
a/n: i lowkey suck at communicating my "big" ideas so i really really hope this makes sense!
Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3
Join my taglists here
wc: 3.8k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
they were here, she says,
You’ve had your share of bad days.
Oh God , enough to fill an A4 binder with. For example, knocking out that tooth when you were twelve. A butterfly effect of fuck ups that led to a scuffle at school: blood in your mouth, a tooth on the ground, and a looong suspension. You received quite the earful at home, that day. 
And then there was telling your parents you had dropped out of college. Telling them you were moving halfway across the country with your boyfriend. Breaking up with said boyfriend in your favourite diner; thus sullying Pam’s waffles and pancakes with the bitter taste of… oh-fuck-I-don’t-know-how-I’ll-afford-an-apartment-now. Oh, and heartbreak – although that wasn’t as immediate. 
Scratch that, the day of the breakup had been fairly mundane. Pleasant, even. Jamie had an off day, and you only had a few lectures. He didn’t tell you, of course, so meeting him in the apartment was a surprise. You’re home earlier than usual, and you can’t quite bear to wake him up; slumped on the sofa like an old cat. He’s tired, lectures and clerkships running him ragged for the past few years. Only a year out until residency, with bags under his eyes as proof, and you see him less and less.  All things considered, you’re glad to spend the rest of the day with him. 
You’d spent too long after the break up analysing the days leading up to it: for a sign, something in his behaviour that would’ve warned you. And so, you remember it quite vividly: kicking your shoes off, putting your bag down, and sinking into the sofa next to him. You curl into him, looking up at his face: steady, tempered breathing. Something at your chest, solid and heavy. He looks peaceful, happy; and you haven't seen that side of him in quite a while. 
When you shift against him, you knock against his shoulder. Jamie stirs, groggy, and eyes adjusting to the light. The first thing he sees as he wakes is you; romantic, in theory. His expression is etched into your subconscious; stark and stiff like a marble statue, or a tombstone. A flash of disappointment, lip drawn in what seemed like disgust – but only for a moment.  
" Morning , baby." You squeeze his side, and take his hand into yours. That look ; it's gone almost as quickly as it came. 
"Thought…" He frowns, fighting dregs of sleep. "I thought you would be back later."
"Nope." You give him a smile and he returns with one that doesn't quite reach his eyes. He puts a hand on your cheek. 
"Morning," Probably tired, he sighs deeply. You move on with the day. And he breaks up with you, not even 6 hours later.
You had had 4 years of that: good days, bad days, but most of them had been… mundane. Boring. Not quite the heat and intensity of true love, as the movies had gaslighted you into believing in. 
You like the old black and white ones the best. Old fashioned, old-timey folk; declarations of love in tinny transatlantic accents. Suddenly, you’re on the floor of your childhood bedroom; eyes wide at the Sound of Music. Maria and Von Trapp hand in hand: her dress billowing, the flash of white glove on the small of her back. Love, love, love; and your lack of it.
You feel its loss all the same. 
Despite all your efforts – including a dash to the station that could rival an Olympic sprinter – you were late to your first lecture. Sweaty, out of breath, and ambushed with a pen and paper; thrust into your hands on arrival. You look around to see dozens of heads down, scribbling furiously. A surprise test – and you’re late.
Hand aching, you barely finish within the two hours, after bullshitting your way through at least half of the questions. By the looks of the people streaming out of the hall; faces rumpled and grimacing; you’re not the only one. However, it does little to comfort you. You’re sure you're the only one failing so spectacularly, with the semester already half over. 
You'd smacked your leg on the coffee table on the way out and a book had slammed to the floor. An art book, the kind in a model home - and you know damn well Miguel's not an enthusiast. The image sticks for some reason, leg aching as you trudge to your next class. When he gives you that blank look; the memory of men gone past is haunting – dead-eyed, and blank, like eyes cut out of a painting. You wonder if a Van Gogh would feel the same with the brilliant blue of eyes slashed out. 
Nevertheless, you feel like lead. Off
to your next class, and it's going over material passed out the day before; which you didn’t have the time to look over. The professor drones on; voice monotonous and gravelly. Struggling to keep up, you sink into your seat – tapping away at your laptop, whatever you can get down. You pick at your lip, unravelling; unfurling like the tip of a slashed rope.
That's what you’re waiting for, you think: sandbags clattering down from stage left, to bring the rest of this whole farce down.
A sinking feeling, that starts at your chest and makes its way to the tops of your fingers and toes, leaves you numb for the rest of the day. Dread, like a shadow, at your heels in the corridors, across the courtyard, all around campus. Another lecture, and you make it in time for labs, barely, but there’s no time to go over notes; what you managed to scrape together in preparation. And of course , your lab partner’s sick, because that’s just the kind of day you’re having. It’s hectic, doing the work of two people with only the scraps you’ve cobbled together. 
The pressure mounts. Like liquid in that flask you weren’t meant to stopper; and you just might end up like its remnants on the counter. Glass everywhere but where it should be. For a good grade, it helps to be organised: everything in its place, always. Except it isn’t, and you’ve fucked it up, again . It means the results don’t match up in your lab book, and another hour staring at liquid decanting, monitoring temperatures. Staring at stark white walls, with achy legs. 
You step out whilst machines run in your stead, and shed your lab coat. It’s hot and stuffy in there but out in the corridor, you can finally breathe. Forehead on the cool wall, it all stops for a moment. The persistent buzz of your phone, sat in the pocket of your trousers, creeps into the quiet. 
Absent-mindedly, you turn it on with a click. The buzzing stops. You’ve just missed a call from Miguel. It’s odd, he doesn’t usually call, but it’s the little box underneath the notification that makes you pause. A message, from a number you thought you’d blocked – that you should’ve blocked. 
From:Jamie <3
Hey
From:Jamie <3
We should meet. I’ve still got some of your things in the apartment.
Your blood runs cold. Dread, like a shadow; its hand wrapped your neck. You can’t breathe, stuck under the weight of something at your chest. You can’t breathe, the walls close in. We should meet , he says. Like it’s the easiest thing in the world; just friends catching up over a coffee. Like you didn’t watch him carve out a chunk of your heart with a rusty spoon. 
A panic attack, and you’re awkwardly hunched over by the wall, phone in hand. Someone will find you here, lying on the vinyl floor in Block B, spread eagle between lab 6 and 7. Dramatic timing, but if it kills you; you’ll find a way to haunt your ex's ass for the foreseeable future. And Miguel’s too, because if you’re having a bad day; then somewhere out there, he’s having a good one. 
~~~
The apartment is still when Miguel gets back – unusually so. You’re not on the sofa, watching a mindless soap opera, or howling some song in the shower. And he’s had to deal with that most days for the past few weeks, a break in the peace and quiet he’s so carefully cultivated. Rigorous routine, they keep him together. He needed it; the way myth needs a martyr, the way flowers on a small grave needs a body. A tick-tick-tick in his head, that drives him a little less crazy after a morning run, or a good meal when he comes home. A countdown, he thinks, a mechanical clock whirring and puttering with a shake of its gears. He feels them stutter and start, slowing down, but not quite stopping. An ache so deep, he feels its creak with every step. 
Absent-mindedly, he looks around the empty apartment, pulling at his ears.
When he was younger, Gabi would pull at his ears, to get him out of a book. Reading, always reading, whenever he could. At the dinner table, when his mamá would rap his knuckles with a wooden spoon and chuckle lightly at his little grimace. No en la mesa, Miguelito. Not at the table, Miggy. Léeme más tarde – read it to me later.
It was when he got his braces, and picked up a slight lisp. He stopped talking for a while, not completely; but a lot less, not as interactive in lessons. And it was always little Miguel, at the front of the class with his hand up to answer. It didn’t help that Gabi poked fun at him, often sneaking up to him to hiss in his ear: palms pressed together with a slithering motion, and then a strike to his ribs like una víbora - a viper , struggling to say his S’s. They’d fight because of it after, tousling on the floor of their bedroom in a mass of limbs, like pythons squeezing prey. Or at least, until their mamá rushed to separate them. 
She didn’t like it when her boys fought; so they’d been forced to make up every time. He still has the scars to prove it.
Car magazines at first, and then the newspaper, whatever book he had picked up at the library that week. Even with his lisp, his mother made sure he read to her, and sometimes to Gabi as well, at least once a week. Looking back, she was never perfect; the things he knows now about his dear mamá, and her visage tumbles like Ozymandias in the sand. Her mother, married to a piece-of-shit mechanic; and his mother, elbow deep in the oil spill. That’s the funny thing about love, he thinks. Love, and the lack of it; dripping through the cracks, passed on through generations. Maybe mamá felt the gears shuddering in her chest. He hopes Gabi was saved from that burden. 
A small voice at the back of his mind tells him: it’s not enough. Doesn’t explain the little boy pulling at his ears, in Miguel’s jacket and dress shoes.
A glimpse in the reflection of a shiny pan on the side table, and he looks like shit. Eyebags, a permanent scowl, shadowy lines that prick at the corners of his eyes. It’s ironic, crows feet without the penchant for laughing. He thinks you’d find it funny. The pink and purple of a setting sun spills in through windows and makes him sigh. It’s late, and you’re still not home. 
God, you're strange; sticking your nose where you shouldn't. Disrupting the calm of his apartment. A sanctuary, and you've got your grubby paws all over it. Your shit is all over the place; pun-based mugs in the cabinet, chewed pen lids with no pens in sight, a blanket on the couch. The same blanket, a ratty old thing, that he usually meets you wrapped in when he gets back. A creature of habit, he folds it up; trying to ignore the whispers of your perfume, sweet and heady on the fabric.
He gets dressed, starting with dinner; knife on a chopping board cutting onions and peppers into cubes. It's therapeutic, the steady thud ringing out into the kitchen. Quiet, for a fleeting moment. But the worry, it sticks ; despite his better judgement. Before he changes his mind, he clicks open his phone to call you. It rings out – you don’t pick up.
The urge to call again is surprisingly troublesome, so he shoves it down with a piece of tortilla. It sits in his chest, regardless.
~~~
You trudge into the apartment. Squelch seems more accurate, sopping wet as you step out of waterlogged trainers. It was an inopportune time to wear jeans and forget a jacket – and you fight the urge to wring out onto the wooden planks. Miguel would kill you; the place was already falling apart, and water-warped floorboards might just be the last straw.
It’s thundering outside; a torrential downpour you’d just been dragged through. Dragged, half-running through streets-turned-streams, with nothing but a tank top and hoodie on your back. And you must look a sight , eyes bleary and slick with rainwater. The bag heavy on your back goes first, slipped off your shoulder and on the floor next to the coffee table with a thunk . You’re unzipping the flimsy canvas, inspecting its contents. A soaked through textbook, clumps of loose paper. You’re ready to cry when you see what's happened to the pages of your lab book; bleeding ink that’s only half-legible. But it’s the state of your laptop that makes your chest really heave and knees weak.
It’s slick with rainwater, and the sandwich you’d forgotten to eat, smeared across its fans. Caked on, more accurately; an odd sludge that you try your best to wipe away. You put it on the coffee table and your hand shakes as you press the power button. A click, a stuttering whir, and the screen flickers on. Then, just as strained, it putters off. Dead. Completely dead. 
You sink onto the floor, head in your hands between the coffee table and the couch. Everything was on there: photos from senior prom, end of semester projects – your whole life. You have to dig your teeth into your bottom lip to bite back a scream.
Miguel peers from the kitchen, watching your silent breakdown. Quiet, and so still, with only the slight shake of shoulders to tell him that something is wrong. He glances at your half-opened laptop. He’d eaten already, clearing up what remains of his dinner and this is the sight he’s greeted with: the lady of the lake, lain between the reeds. 
He shakes the image out of his head, and walks over. You feel a tentative prod, and look up.
“...I called you,” He says lightly, scratching at his neck.
You blink up at him. He thinks you look like a painting, watery and forlorn, framed in the yellow light of the soft bulbs.
“I was busy,” It’s not said with malice, nor as lilting as your usual sarcasm. Plain, simple. Busy. Your head slumps back into the little hollow you’ve made with your arms.
And so he sits, shoulders brushing against yours. He’s frustratingly patient, presence warm and comfortable despite… well, despite everything. 
You can’t help it. Popping back up, you state, “You never call, though.”
“You’re never this late home.” Home. The word is heavy, knocks you onto your heels.
“So?” You shrug. “Could’ve been out with friends, or at a club–”
Laughter slips out like apples loose in a bag, spills onto the floor. Crisp, sweet; but you glare at him all the same. 
“You don’t have friends.” He says it with the remnants of a smile, teasing. A challenge, and you’re more than happy to accept. 
“ Not true , fuckface.” It is. You'd lost track of most of your friends after moving – and all the ones you made here? Your friends were Jamie's friends, and they chose him  in the divorce. " You don't have any friends."
"I do ."
"You don't." It's your turn to scoff. "It's a Friday night and you're in here, washing up and planning to go to bed at a reasonable time."
"I'm an adult, doesn't mean I don't have–" 
"The ones you fuck don't count." And then you pinch the bridge of your nose. "God forbid, if that's how you treat your friends…" 
He laughs, properly, and you feel it in your chest too: the kind of laughter that bubbles like little breaths rising to the top of a lake. 
“M’serious.” He says it in between gasping breaths and you try to steady your own giggles. "And, I have a friend who could take a look at your laptop, if you wanted."
His eyes flick over to the crime scene besides you. It's sweet, but.. "It's gone, Miguel, I know. You don't need to… try and make me feel better."
" Chula ," He flicks the deep lines forming at your brow. You look up and he says, softly, "I'm not trying to make you feel better. I'm trying to get you off of the floor so I can mop up that puddle."
With the way he says it, with that little smile, you don't believe him. 
Now he's got your attention, he says, "You could've skipped that 9:00am. Or just been late. Don't think it would've mattered."
"Maybe." You shake your head. "M'not the best student. I'm blindingly… average. Just wanted it to be different, this year." 
Your voice crackles, leaves something in the air he can't quite name. Quiet, again, except this time it's thicker. Smoke, ash, rolling clouds of melancholy in the little front room. For once, he doesn't know what to say. 
You've got your head back on the sofa now, with a deep sigh. You look at the ceiling, and he's looking at you. It's the first time he's able to really study your features, trace the outline of your lips and sloping cheekbone. Your lashes, damp with little droplets of water, look crystalline in the light. Sparkling. Like the paintings depicted in the hefty book sat on his coffee table. He's read that one, twice , cover-to-cover in a fit of… insanity, maybe. He's not a man of frills and fancy, didn't really get it; nor why Gabi had given him the book in the first place. It felt like a filler piece, something to put on the little table and forget about, or to prop up a wooden leg. But that's not how his brother works, frustratingly convoluted. It's stupid, Miguel thought. Everything had to mean something , or what was it good for? 
But looking at you, here, like this ; it clicks. Reaching over for the book, he leans it against the flat of his thigh. And you see it in the corner of your eye, watching as he flicks through the pages. Filled with art, it's the kind of thing on a table in a model apartment: a space-filler in a false home. When you first came here, the starkness and severity of the space had stuck. To you, the book had only reinforced it. Who was Miguel? A serial killer for all you know, stocking fluff pieces and coffee table books; only pretending to be human.
Finally, he stops, finger over a specific place. A double page spread, of surprisingly good quality. 
He clicks his tongue. " This one. "
You follow his finger. A woman in a lake doesn't do it justice. It's beautiful, but it doesn't mean anything to you.
" Ophelia, John Everett Mills, 1852 ." He reads out the little label at the bottom of the image. "Like from Hamlet."
You shrug. "I don't…?"
"Well, she's in love with Hamlet, and then her father's murdered, Hamlet fucks off; and she's left heartbroken, goes mad because of it , arguably–" 
"I've taken tenth grade English, Miguel. I don't get what that has to do with anything."
"She drowns herself. Also arguably, to be fair," He chews his lip, thinking. "Slipped off the bark of a willow tree, into a brook. Incapable of her own distress, or something. Drowns. Do you know how horrible drowning feels? How violent? And yet–" 
He taps the page, and you come a little closer. Beautiful. She's beautiful. 
"I'll admit it, I'm not a big fan of Shakespeare. Gabi – my brother – is way better at this stuff than me. Drama and intrigue and–" He gestures vaguely. "– love . That's why he likes it, apparently. And I… I know someone who really liked this page; I think it was the colours, or the flowers…? She said it looked like a photo, and that the woman looked so pretty in the water."
He pauses, dead-eyed. He's rambling, only taking a breath to compose himself." I… didn't have the heart to tell her that Ophelia, in this painting, is dead. Dead as a fucking doornail. Dragged through still water, sentenced to death by her passivity and grief – but you wouldn't know it."
Unconsciously, you trace the outline of her hair with your finger; swirling locs that blend into muddy reflections. She's on her back and fully dressed; a beaded skirt billowing out into the water. On her back and looking up, like you were on the sofa just a moment ago. Oh. Oh . You blink at the image. Flowers, peppered around to frame Ophelia in her watery grave. It doesn't look like a grave from where you're sitting, but there's a body in the water all the same. 
There's a lump in your throat. Grief; the loss of 4 years of your life in a middling relationship, the aftermath of dead eyes and brilliant blue slashed from a canvas frame. Grief, rising to the surface like a bloated carcass. You thought you'd bound its ankles to cinder blocks and tossed it in a river long ago. 
"I'm probably overstepping. For that, I'm sorry, and I mean it. But I think there's something else. I..I hear you rattling around at night; and sometimes, when I look at you..." 
Your eyes are glassy, tears threatening to spill over. You’re hearing him but you don’t quite understand. Does he know? God, does he know?
"...it reminds me of this painting. You remind me of Ophelia .”
He sighs, turning to you.
“I know how it feels. And I think this shit is going to kill you, if you're not careful."
~~~
He doesn't talk about it. He runs off to start the shower, bundles you into towels and leaves you reeling. God, it's like you've been shot – barely a 10 minute conversation and he's cracked open your ribs to root around in what's left of you. He sees you; wades through the undergrowth and cuts through the bulllshit - he sees you. 
You couldn't even answer. That's what stings the most. 
You’ve settled on the sofa, cross-legged and still fresh from the shower. There’s a documentary on the TV; mindless background to Miguel clattering in the kitchen. He’s putting together some leftovers, even though you insisted that you weren’t hungry, that you’ve already eaten. Well , he had pointed to the gunk caked onto your laptop, wasn’t that the problem in the first place?
He’s good at it; wraps you up in the blanket you always keep draped on the cushions, and hands you a full plate. Wordlessly, because you suppose he’s said everything he needed to. Dutifully, he takes care of you, without a word; the strain of cutting you open on the coffee table clearly too much to bear.
You thank him, and he settles on the armchair opposite, mug of coffee in hand. The gloom of the TV bathes him in light, cuts his cheekbones and jaw just so. One of your mugs in his lap, and he's in a thick knitted sweater. His hair kisses the tops of his lashes, but he brushes it away. You swallow thickly, and when he turns, you look away.
“...You okay?” He asks, confused.
You nod, unable to speak. He gives you a small smile, the corners of his eyes crinkled up like crepe paper. You return it with one of your own. 
He sees you. Finally, you see him too.
_
_
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withacapitalp · 3 months
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Starry, Starry Night Pt 1
Happy birthday dear friend!!! @thefreakandthehair Lex you are a pillar of the fandom, an amazing writer, and just all around one of my most favorite human beings. I'm so so lucky to get to call you one of my best friends and I hope this fic puts a smile on your face!! @stevethehairington and @hbyrde36 thank you for betaing and for encouragement!!!!
Read it on ao3 instead here
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Steve was asleep at the counter. 
Again. 
Robin placed another VHS precariously on the top of the pile surrounding him, making sure to adjust it so it wouldn’t fall. A copy of Secret Admirer had toppled down half a dozen boxes when she placed it without care earlier, and Steve had almost woken up just from the sound. She had worked her way through all of the romantic comedy returns and was halfway through the horrors already, and the pile was up to Steve’s waist. 
Her working theory was that she would be able to get all the way through the action movies before Steve was completely covered in tapes. 
Part of her wanted to feel at least a little bad for fucking with him every single time he fell asleep. After all it wasn’t like Robin hadn’t fallen asleep on the job herself once or twice, and Family Video wasn’t exactly the hardest job in the world. Now that they lived in a veritable ghost town, the store was lucky to get even a handful of patrons every day. 
Apart from her own boredom, there wasn’t really any reason to mess with him or try to wake him up. 
But there lay the crux of the problem. Robin and Steve had gotten their jobs as one so they could spend time together. Not so Robin could get stuck watching her best friend drool on the counter she would inevitably be forced to clean before they closed tonight. 
So, tape fort. 
Robin’s theories were almost immediately dashed though, because just as she placed her fourth copy of Rosemary’s Baby down, Steve stretched out his arms, knocking directly into the wall in front of him and bringing that entire cluster of VHS cases down on his head. 
“Ow! What! Why?!” Steve shouted, jerking upwards, startling as the rest of the tapes surrounding him began to tumble to the floor. 
Robin snickered to herself as she watched the melee, hopping up onto the counter next to where he had been lying his head and beginning to gather up the failed remnants of her experiment. 
“Good morning Dingus,” She sang, lightly tapping him on the top of the head with Ghostbusters, “Did you have a good rest?” 
“Robin,” Steve groaned, covering his face with his hands and heaving an absolutely ginormous sigh, “Why?” 
“Hey, this is your fault,” Robin protested, putting the stack of tapes to the side and sliding to the floor to start grabbing the rest. 
“My fault?” Steve repeated, sliding his fingers away from his eyes so he could glare at her while still hiding his face. 
“This is the fifth time you’ve fallen asleep on me this week, Dingus,” Robin said, giving him a look as she waved a VHS around her head, “Look at this place. Look at how boring it is. I need enrichment, I’m like a tiger in a zoo.”
Steve lowered his hands, raising a brow and silently judging her for a second before grumbling and joining her on the ground.  
“What? Was making paper clip crowns and hiding M&Ms in my pockets not enriching enough anymore?” Steve asked rhetorically, referencing the other things she had done this week during his impromptu naps as he collected the rest of the rom-coms. 
“Nope.” She replied, popping the p as she stood, tapes in hand, “Five times, Stevifer. Five.” 
“So?”
“So, it’s only Wednesday!” Robin shouted, walking around the counter and towards the shelves, knowing Steve would be following close behind with his own stack. “Is Eddie really still that excited about getting you in his bed every night?”
“You would be the first person to know,” Steve said, wagging his eyebrows and looking far too smug for Robin’s tastes. 
That much was true. Steve told Robin everything. What he had for breakfast, any weird customers that came in while she wasn’t scheduled, the stupid things the kids said, and, to the chagrin of both Eddie and Robin, anything and everything to do with his sex life. 
And god damn it did her best friends have a lot of sex. 
“Okay, so it’s not Eddie keeping you up,” Robin said, a small pit beginning to form in her stomach. She had hoped it was just them fucking like bunnies and Steve needing to recharge during the mornings, but now she was pretty sure it was the other thing, and that was a lot worse. 
There was no quick fix for that particular problem. 
“You wanna talk about it?” Robin asked softly, turning towards her best friend and trying to be as gentle as allowed. 
“Not really,” Steve said, keeping his eyes on the shelves and avoiding her gaze.
Okay, so not gentle. Trying to get Steve to open up was a weird careful tightrope walk between being gentle enough to lower down his guard, while also being firm enough that he didn’t feel like he was being treated like a child. So far Robin was the only one who managed to succeed most of the time, but even she stumbled on occasion. 
“You know I don’t mind covering for you, but you can’t keep this up, Dingus,” Robin tried, nudging their shoulders together as she did, hoping that a little extra physical contact would open Steve up even more, “It’s not healthy, and they’re not worth it.”  
Wrong thing to say. It was like she could physically see the walls coming back up around him. 
“I’ll be fine, Robin,” Steve said, the forced nonchalance in his tone hurting her almost as much as it was definitely hurting him. 
“You’re not sleeping again,” She stated plainly, putting it out there for both of them to see. Steve flinched at her words as if she had physically struck him. 
“I’m just…still adjusting,” He tried. 
Adjusting was still figuring out how the oven worked at Eddie’s new trailer, or trying to find the best routine for sharing the bathroom in the morning. Adjusting was planning work schedules, learning how to live together, becoming used to each other's rhythms. 
Whatever was happening here wasn’t adjusting. 
“Steve, It’s been almost a month since…” Robin started, trailing off as she tried to find the right words to help him. 
Steve already had them. 
“Since what, Robin? Since my parents kicked me out?” Steve interrupted, his voice hard and angry as he forced himself to meet her eyes, as if challenging her to try and find a kinder way to say it. 
That wasn’t a challenge she was planning to take on. There was no making this better. 
“Yeah, since your parents kicked you out,” She repeated, refusing to meet his level of emotion, knowing that would only make Steve even angrier. Sure enough he pushed away from her, stalking over to the counter and furiously punching returns into the computer, a storm cloud of rage swirling around him. 
“Steve-”
“God Robin, will you just drop it?!” Steve snapped. 
Robin leaned ever so slightly back at his sudden shift and Steve let his eyes slip shut, hanging his head low and taking a slow deep breath. The anger drained from his face, leaving behind only barely there frustration, and a longing that his parents didn’t fucking deserve from a son that was far too good for them.
It wasn’t exactly a shock when Richard and Diane showed up and told their son to pack his shit and leave, but that didn’t make it any less painful for Steve. Robin had never had any faith in them, but for some reason Steve did. He expected his parents to love him just as much as he loved them, and he had deluded himself into thinking that they had only ever done the things they did to try and make him better. 
Letting go of that couldn’t be easy, but it was also one of the few things about Steve that Robin felt she would probably never fully understand. 
“Please.” Steve whispered, Robin’s heart breaking at the pain in his voice, “I just don’t wanna talk about it, Bobbin.” 
Rather than answering she rounded the counter, pressing her body into his side and leaning her head against his shoulder. Steve adjusted to fit her automatically, two becoming one as she let Steve breathe into the pain instead of ignore it. 
“Were you at least having a good dream?” Robin asked, her voice slightly muffled by the soft sweater Steve was wearing, wishing she had a way to help him. 
“Oh yeah, it was great,” He said with a soft laugh, “I was lying back on a mountain of pillows while Eddie was using his massive thick-”
“Finish that sentence and I’ll be forced to smother you next time you fall asleep at work,” Robin groaned, sticking her tongue out and gagging as she pushed Steve away from her. She hammed it up for extra effect, but she couldn’t hide the smile on her lips as she listened to Steve’s laughter. 
He hadn’t laughed as much in the last few weeks, and Robin hadn’t realized how much she missed the sound. It reminded her of everything good, all the stuff they hadn’t really been able to do since he moved in with Eddie. Burning breakfast together, dancing around the house in their socks, even trying to muffle their giggles in her bed so they wouldn’t wake her parents, looking through the skylight that was above her bed at the stars…
Huh. Maybe she did have an idea of how to help. 
“Now that you’re awake, I’m going to take my break,” Robin said in a faux casual tone, stretching and trying to hide the Cheshire cat grin overtaking her face. 
“You built a tape fort around me because you were annoyed I fell asleep and you were alone, so the first thing you do when I wake up is go hide in the back alone?” Steve complained, turning back to the computer and restarting the returns he had begun. 
“Love you too,” Robin said, pecking his cheek as she practically skipped towards the breakroom. She closed and locked the door, pressing her ear to it for a second just to make sure Steve wasn’t eavesdropping before almost bolting over to the phone in the corner, punching in the number for the Thatcher’s Tires and bouncing in place as she listened to the dial tone. 
This was a great idea. One of her best. 
“Hey Pete, it’s Robin. Can you put Eddie on the phone?”
Part two is coming tomorrow!! If you want to be tagged say it in a reblog!!
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blackypanther9 · 2 months
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I keep my words
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WARNING!: Blood x gore, murder, cursing, violence, graphic (?) murder scenes AND MORE ! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED !!!
TAGLIST: @l0liamk @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved
(I hope the tags work TvT)
A/N: This is the second part of “I’ll protect you”. Art belongs to rightful owner (I just get this shit from Google)
Words: 3 401
It had been three days, since M/n’s breakdown and when he vented to Alastor about how bad his biological parents really were. As soon as Alastor did his job, he grabbed a sleeping M/n and returned back home. The next day they got a restriction order against M/n’s biological parents and then Alastor let another day pass.
This was day three and he was ready to kill them. His adopted Son told him where they lived and he spied on them the last day. They were arranging everything to make a kill and run. They had weapons and started to pack their things. They were really planning to kill him and M/n and then to run away.
‘Not while I am still alive.’, Alastor thought grimly.
He told M/n the lie, that he had to get to his job without him, it was a last minute call. The boy pouted, but let him go, after Alastor tucked him into bed for an early night rest. Alastor wore the clothes he usually wore when he went killing, hunting knife with him.
He made his way to M/n’s former home. The house was pretty far away from any neighbors, hence why no one knew what happened in that house. He saw an open window and rolled his eyes.
Why would any idiot leave their window wide open in the middle of the night, knowing a killer is on the loose too ?
Alastor climbed inside through the window and took the cold frying pan, that was on the stove. He sneaked around and saw Fred L/n first. He went right behind him and then swung the pan with all his might.
BAM !
Fred flinched in shock, then passed out and hit the floor. Alastor had so much rage and disgust in his eyes for that man. He reminded him of his own Father. Vile !
“Fred, honey ? What happened ?”, Gorgia’s voice called.
Alastor quickly hid in the shadows, almost invisible, thanks to the poor light and dark clothes he wore. She came down the stairs and soon entered the room, she sighed in annoyance.
“Again ? Why are you such a heavy drinker ?”, she complained.
As soon as she wasn’t looking anywhere near Alastor’s direction anymore, he dashed out of the shadows and slammed the frying pan into her head too. She yelped in pain and then was passed out on the floor.
Alastor panted softly and eyed her with as much rage and disgust as he eyed Fred, while he had a sinister grin on his face, the whole time. He was so ready to kill them. And he won’t make it quick, oh, no, no, no~
-Time skip-
Alastor tied Fred and Gorgia up in their basement, remembering that his adopted Son mentioned that it was the most vile place, in the house, and the place they loved to torture him most in, with Linda.
He waited for them to wake up already. While he waited he looked around in the house, looking for diaries, pictures anything they had that revolved around their kids. Nothing of these sorts were there. It was like they never had children to begin with, which angered him even more.
Then there was a yell and Alastor grinned more sadistically. He returned to the basement and saw them both wide awake, trying to get out of their bounds. They stopped when they saw Alastor.
“Who are you ?!”, Fred hollered in anger.
“Please, untie us !”, Gorgia begged.
Alastor chuckled at first then it turned into a full cackle. He looked at Gorgia’s pathetic face. She had tears and snot running down her face.
“My, oh my~ For the big mouth you had, on my Radio Show, you seem very pathetic now.”, Alastor said to Gorgia with a voice full of disgust.
The two adult’s eyes widened. Gorgia was in utter shock and horror, while Fred scoffed and glared even harder. Then he struggled even harder.
“I will KILL you, you Bastard ! That damn brat was supposed to DIE !”, Fred hollered.
Alastor laughed and played with his hunting knife. The two froze again and looked at the object, Alastor wielded. He shot them a sinister grin.
“You know, that’s funny, my good man ! Since when do we blame our own children for our own actions, hmm ? Do tell~”, Alastor teased out.
Fred scoffed with a glare.
“That mistake had it coming, let her own Sister get taken and killed and then dared to blame it all on us !”, he yelled.
“And he was very useless and unhelpful in the house.”, Gorgia added.
Alastor rolled his eyes, but his sinister smile never fell. He ran his fingers up and down the side of his blade.
“Hmm, I have to disagree with you there ! You see, since the kid has been with me, he proved himself rather useful, helps around a lot and even provides some entertainment ! And what was the boy supposed to do, as his Sister got taken, hmm ? He tried to chase down the car and even notified the police. You are the adults, you were supposed to be their guardians, yet here you are, proving to me that you are nothing more but worthless scum !”, Alastor said happily.
“Watch it, shit talker !”, Fred threatened with a growl.
Alastor laughed and then gave the man a piercing, daring glare. One, that made Gorgia gulp in fear. He came closer and put the tip of his hunting knife near Fred’s throat.
“Or what~?”, Alastor asked in a teasing, yet challenging tone.
Fred didn’t back down and glared at Alastor.
“Or I will kill you in a very painful way, Fucker.”, Fred sneered out.
Alastor gave him a lips closed sharp grin, then cocked his head to his right, partly amused.
“Oh, really ?”, he asked in a tone, that said he didn’t take the threat seriously.
“Really, Bastard. You are too much of a little wet Pussy to kill one of us. You are just fucking bluffing.”, Fred stated with a smirk.
“Are you sure about that~?”
Fred gave him a wolfish grin and nodded. Alastor didn’t drop his smirk as he moved his hunting knife.
“AACK !!”, Fred gasped in pain.
Gorgia screamed and sobbed, while Alastor gave him that same grin, his hunting knife in Fred’s lower stomach. The man looked back up at Alastor, fear and pain evident in his eyes. Alastor chuckled and playfully tutted at him.
“You should never be too confidant, Fred L/n~ Now look what you made me do, my good man ! Oh, such a terrible deed, indeedy !”, Alastor mocked with a happy voice.
Before the man could reply or beg, Alastor dragged his knife up, more blood spilled, Fred let out strangled screams, while Gorgia was wailing. Alastor’s smile grew more and more sinister the higher he sliced with his knife. He tore it out as it was at his sternum, forcefully, then he stepped back and Fred’s organs started to fall out, he gargled on his own blood and pain, while Gorgia screeched in terror at the display.
She stared at Alastor in horror. He still had his eyes on her Husband, relishing in the scene he created. She saw that his eyes didn’t seem brown anymore, like they were before, but from the angle she looked at his eyes now...they seemed to be red. It terrified her.
Alastor laughed at the still slowly dying Fred. He looked at his hunting knife amused and satisfied.
“Do you know...that the human body can suffer like this for many hours ? My good man, you are going to die slowly for long, long minutes !”, Alastor informed them both.
“No ! No, please ! He already can’t be saved anymore ! Please, at least end his suffering !”, Gorgia pleaded.
Alastor snapped his head to look at her, close lipped smile still there, eyes wide, but it wasn’t from surprise, it was from bloodlust and to show that he is all ears. He put his blood covered, yet gloved, hand on his chin, mocking to be thinking about it.
“Hmmm....No.”, he replied as he grinned at her, flashing his teeth at her.
She stared at Fred helplessly. She was wailing as she knew, that she couldn’t change the Radio Host’s mind.
“Why are you crying, hmm ? It’s not like he will leave you ! And you won’t die all alone either ! See that as a merciful act !”, he said happily, mocking her.
She knew that he wanted to kill her too, maybe she can weasel herself out of it...
“I’ll do anything you want, if you don’t kill me ! Anything, I promise !”, she begged.
Alastor looked at her amused.
“HA ! No.”, he replied.
“Please ! I can be useful !”, she tried to change his mind.
“Hmmm... No.”, he answered again, with a shit eating grin.
“I can show you a good time !”, she tried as her last resort.
It always worked when she offered her body, but not with this man. The Radio Host recoiled, like he was smacked, and stared at her.
“No, thank you. I don’t need a harlot. Not interested in such things, who knows how many diseases you have, from having spend some nights with other men. I don’t wish to be infected.”, he denied.
He felt revolted in disgust at that suggestion, in his mind. Who did that woman think she was ? Hot shit ?
“Please reconsider-!”
“Dear...do you ever shut up ?”, Alastor asked with his happy tone.
Underneath that happy tone, Alastor was annoyed and fuming. Gorgia was sobbing loudly and it was ugly, which annoyed Alastor even more. At first it was fun and entertaining, now it was boring and annoying as hell.
He went in front of her tied up form and she whimpered, trying to quiet down. Before she could plead again, the Bayou Killer boxed her into the throat. It knocked her breath away and she wheezed. She tried to talk again, but her voice was barely audible.
“Much better, Dear !”, Alastor cheerily said and left her side again.
The Radio Host took the fallen out organs one by one and started to decorate the basement with them, which made the woman wail silently, while Fred was still slowly dying. Alastor hummed happily as he decorated, thinking about a way to torture Gorgia to her end.
Then he got his sadistic idea and his smile, which seemed to get even more sinister than before, said that it was a fantastic one.
“After I am done decorating with these organs, you better pray that I am not missing something as decoration, otherwise you will have to pay the price, Harlot !”, Alastor informed her happily.
More tears fell and she stared at the Killer in fear.
After a few minutes he was done and looked around, tapping his chin in thought.
“Hmm...Oh goodness, this won’t do !”, he said disapprovingly.
He waited a bit, then spoke again, hearing her quick breaths and sniffles.
“I am missing a few things, such a scoundrel !”, Alastor exclaimed in mock disappointment.
At that the woman had big eyes of terror and she sobbed harder. Alastor slowly approached her.
“Seems like, I have to take the other decorations from you, Darling~”, he said and drew out his hunting knife again.
She shook her head, wheezing out pleads, that fell on deaf ears. The Killer looked at her left hand, that was tied up and his eyes flashed. She saw the red hue again in his brown eyes and she shivered in fear.
He gave her a smile, that might have looked charming, if he wouldn’t be killing her right now. He grabbed her left hand and made her straighten out her pointer finger, then he slammed his hunting knife down, while she struggled and pleaded more, knowing what he will do.
Her voice seemed to return as she screamed in pain, as he chopped off her left pointer finger. It hit the floor, but Alastor was far from done.
“Perfect, nine more to go.”, he said darkly.
She screamed and begged, struggled and wailed for mercy. But Alastor didn’t care and continued. Each time he chopped off a finger, she screamed in agony and his sadistic grin grew.
-Time skip-
Gorgia was sobbing and hiccupping as Alastor finished decorating the entrance to the Basement, with her chopped off fingers. He would have loved to detach more from her body, but he had no saw or axe and he was also running out of time. He laughed as he saw Gorgia’s and Fred’s miserable faces.
He drew his hunting knife and approached them with a sinister grin. Fred passed out for a few seconds about three minutes ago, now he was back awake, and weak.
“Hmm...who am I going to kill first ? Will I kill you or your husband first ? I don’t know...”, Alastor feigned conflicted.
“If you...kill us both anyways....then why does it matter....who dies first ?”, Gorgia got out weakly, her voice hoarse and weak from all the screaming and wailing.
“The first one will be able to go first, free of their pain of course ! It matters, because I can’t decide who shall be relieved first. I am a Gentleman usually and that would mean, that you would be the first one to go, but at the same time, you hurt both of your kids an awful lot and didn’t suffer as long as your husband. He suffered longer and is in more pain, but he physically abused his kids more than I would like to have known. So...I have a very big issue now.”
He wanted to see if Gorgia was selfish. She looked at her husband, even though she cheated on him a few times, she didn’t hate him. She looked at Alastor, determined.
“Kill him first.”, she said.
He didn’t show it, but Alastor was surprised. She chose him over her, at least she had a little bit of love for him there. He went in front of Fred and Gorgia screwed her eyes shut, as Alastor shoved his hand inside her husband’s chest and ripped his heart out. Fred’s body stiffened for a second, then went slack. He was dead.
Alastor threw the heart against the basement wall to his left. As it made contact it popped, like a water balloon, and painted the wall red. He approached Gorgia and made her look at the spot, the heart popped. She sobbed again, but no tears can be shed anymore.
“I am impressed that you chose him to die first, I’ll admit that. Even though you two were pigs, I suppose for that one I cut you some slack, Madam.”, Alastor told her, amused.
She looked at him, before she could say anything else, she gasped in pain and wheezed. Alastor drove his hunting knife into her stomach, his grin sadistic and his chocolate brown eyes holding a red hue in them. Then he continuously tore his knife out and stabbed her again. She was gargling on her own blood, Alastor was covered in it, but he didn’t stop.
He only stopped as her body had gone limp long ago and she had at least 120 stab wounds in her torso. It didn’t take long for him to recover, catch his breath, make sure he left no evidence of himself behind and then to leave the house the way he entered, to return home.
As he arrived back at home, he rushed to the bathroom and threw his clothes into the bathtub, then let in cold water. After his clothes were soaking in the cold water, where he added a bit of cleaner inside, he jumped into the shower and showered the blood on his body off.
Then he cleaned his clothes and hung them over the heater in the room, letting them dry. He checked on M/n after that, who was still sleeping, and then he went to bed himself. Sleep quickly consumed him as the blood rush and adrenaline went down.
-Three days later-
The police didn’t find the bodies yet, which was good and at the same time irritating, in Alastor’s opinion. M/n didn’t sleep properly last night, but wanted to come with him to work anyways, so the Radio Host packed a pillow and fluffy blanket into a small bag, just in case. M/n was snuggled into it at the moment, napping the day away.
Alastor lifted his cup of coffee to drink and was shocked when nothing entered his mouth. He looked into his mug.
‘Already empty ? Guess I have to refill it. M/n will be fine alone for five minutes, right ?’
Alastor was worried and conflicted. He knew his Boss was busy, but he never took any chances since he knew that he was...INTERESTED in M/n, if you catch the drift. He looked at the door and then back at M/n. Then the male took a deep breath and got up, opened the door and left.
‘Only five minutes. Nothing will happen to him in five minutes.’, Alastor tried to reassure himself, to calm his nerves.
He was soon at the Coffee machine and prepared his beverage.
‘Only five minutes...’
-Five minutes later-
As he returned he froze in shock and rage. In his office, was his Boss, in front of M/n’s sleeping body, blanket pulled away. The pervert stared at M/n’s ass, like it was dessert. Alastor had to do something ! Quick !
He can’t stand up against his Boss, without getting fired. He had a mixed skin color and not white, his Boss was and he was just as racist as almost the rest of New Orleans.
He carefully set his mug down on the floor, not making a sound. Then he pulled out a switchblade from his pants’ pocket, he flipped it open, then quietly approached his Boss, who had his back still towards him. Just as that perverted old man was about to touch Alastor’s adopted Son’s thighs, the Radio Host slammed the knife down and into his Boss’ head.
The man jerked up and tried to yell, but Alastor covered his mouth quickly and then tore him away from M/n, who was luckily still asleep. He tore him to the small closet that was in Alastor’s office and then slit his throat. Renold Floyd started to choke on his own blood and his life was draining fast from him. Alastor closed the closet door behind him, glaring at his dying, soon to be, ex Boss.
“Don’t touch my fucking child, you vile pig.”, Alastor growled out.
Renold tried to fight against his fate, but he soon enough was dead anyways. Alastor scoffed and then exited the closet, locking the door in case. He checked his clothes and there was no blood stain on him. Good.
He looked at M/n. His Son.
In shock he shook his head. What was he thinking ?! M/n is NOT his Son !
He looked at the boy again, who was unaware and sleeping peacefully. He was safe and sound. It warmed the Killer’s heart.
Yes...M/n is his Son. HIS only. No one is allowed to touch him.
‘I promised that I will never let anyone else hurt you or even touch you, without your consent. I swore to you, to protect you. I am planning to keep these promises, my Son.’
He approached the sleeping boy and pulled the blanket back over his small body.
‘I always keep my words. I will protect you, no matter what, until the day I die.’
He gave a soft kiss onto M/n’s forehead, which made the boy smile in his sleep softly. It almost killed Alastor. The boy was so much cuteness at once. The man smiled in adoration, then he collected his mug of coffee and sat back down on his microphone, waiting to get back on air.
He knew that his Son will be safe with him.
Always.
Masterlist HERE !
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willalove75 · 9 months
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Alcina's New Maid Pt. 9 Lady Dimitrescu x Reader
Summary: Lady Dimitrescu brings you in as one of her maids, at least, that's what you thought she brought you to the castle for.
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI
Tags: flirty, fluff, slow burn, smut, angst.
Notes: Part 9! More angst (hehe) but with a dash of fluff this time!
Click here for the rest of the series
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As you watch Alcina release the doorknob, your breath hitches. Anxiety, fear, hurt, anger, frustration, all of the complex emotions are swirling inside of you, but you still don't want her to leave. A small wave of relief washes over you as she slowly turns around, her eyes still trained on the floor.
You watch her as she releases a breath, following her movements with your eyes, you see her slowly lifting her head, her gaze finally meeting yours once more.
After what felt like an eternity of staring into each others eyes, Alcina breaks eye contact and looks down at the floor.
"How- how are you feeling?" She quietly asks, her eyes looking back up towards you.
You lightly scoff and gently shake your head, looking away.
"Never been better."
Alcina looks down and purses her lips.
"I hurt you." You hear the regret in her voice but the anger and hurt in your chest bubbles as she looks back up towards you.
"Really? I wonder what gave you that idea. Was it from listening to me cry myself to sleep for three fucking nights or the fact that I couldn't bear the thought of getting out of bed without wanting to throw myself out of the window for a week?" You spit, your voice cold and hardened.
Feeling the sting of your words in her heart, Alcina looks away as she fights back her tears.
"I- please," she says, exhaling. "these things are not easy for me."
You hear a hint of frustration in her voice and it only aggravates you more.
"Oh I'm sure, because it was so easy for you to go and fuck that maid. Of course this is the shit you have a hard time doing."
"That was a mistake." Alcina says with her fists clenched and her jaw tense, desperately trying to keep her tears at bay and her anger suppressed.
"I bet it was." You say, sarcastically. "You know, I'll do you one better, I bet it was an accident. The two of you just tripped and fell into your bed, and you just happened to fall face first between her legs. Whoopsies!" You throw your hands up.
"That's not fair." She responds through gritted teeth.
"Are you fucking serious right now?" You say, standing up. "Do you wanna know what's really unfair? Feeling safe, feeling protected, feeling loved-" your voice cracks as tears begin to fall. "Believing you when you told me I was special, that I was different from all of the others and then having it all ripped away with no warning!"
"You are." She says softly.
"Then why?! Why did you wake up one morning and suddenly want nothing to do with me?! You acted like I didn't exist, like I was nothing to you, like I didn't matter. Alcina, I- I loved you." You say through tears. "I think I still love you but I'm in so much pain I don't even know what to do. What was the point of any of this if you were just going to abandon me?! You took me from my home, from my family-"
"They didn't deserve you." She says with intensity in her eyes as her tears threaten to fall.
"And you do?! After everything you did to me?!"
That was the final blow for Alcina, she knew you were right, she didn't deserve you after everything she did. A sob breaks out and she covers her mouth with her hand, the dam breaks as tears pour down her porcelain skin. Turning her back towards you she rips her gloves off and throws them onto the floor and covers her face. Your heart and lungs threaten to jump out of your chest as you watch her shoulders shake while she sobs. Alcina tries to silence her cries but it's no use, they're pouring out of her like an overflowing cup.
You hate seeing her like this, you're still angry and hurt, but Zina's words replay in your head. "You can be both empathetic and angry towards her, they are not mutually exclusive feelings." Frustrated, you walk back over and sit on the bed, resting your head in your hands.
"I'm so sorry." Alcina says as she sobs. "I never wanted to hurt you." She takes a few deep breaths, trying to pull herself together, even if it's just a little bit. "You're right, about everything. Nothing I did was fair to you, not for a moment; and I don't deserve you, not anymore. Not after all of the pain I've caused you." She quietly whimpers, her hands leave her face and she wraps her arms around herself.
"Then why? Why did you do it? All of it?" You have more desperation in your voice than you wanted.
"Does it even matter anymore?" She says with a hurt in her voice.
"Of course it matters!" You say, louder than you were expecting. "You took my heart and shoved it into the dirt and stepped on it and didn't even have the courtesy of giving me any kind of warning or reason." The anger bubbles in your chest once more. "And you acted like you didn't even care! Like I didn't exist! You owe me an explanation. It's the least you could fucking do."
"You want to know why?" She says, trying to coat her voice in ice but the pain is still prevalent.
"Yes!" You yell.
"I was trying to protect you."
"From what?!"
Alcina turns and looks at you, tears trickling down her cheeks.
"From that maid? From Mother Miranda? From what Alcina?!"
"From Mother." She says as her eyes flutter shut. "Dealing with that obnoxious pest of a maid is child's play." Her eyes open and meet yours. "But Mother Miranda? I-" looking away, she crosses her arms across her chest, staring off into the distance and falls silent.
"Alcina, please." You quietly say.
After a moment she breaks her silence.
"There are not many things that I am fearful of. There are only a few things on this earth that truly frighten me, things that even I stand no chance of going up against successfully." Her eyes shift over to you for a moment and slowly move away as she looks into the distance again. "Mother Miranda is powerful. The most powerful being I have ever experienced in my very long life. Her powers were given to her by the Black God itself, they are near limitless, there isn't much she can't do."
"So you're afraid of her?"
Alcina continues to look away, not answering your question.
"What would have happened to me if she took me to that lab?"
"Nothing good." She says, you see her eyes flair with anger.
"Why won't you tell me?" You genuinely want to know, but you're starting to get frustrated again as she continues to dodge your questions.
You can see her jaw clench again, tightening her grip on her crossed arms.
"It's better that you don't know."
"How do you expect me to be able to trust you again if you can't even be honest with me?!" You say, your anger bubbling. "You tell me you're sorry for hurting me but you won't even tell me why you're protecting me?! You tell me I'm special and that I'm different but you won't even be honest, what's the point of protecting me then?! Just so you can have another play thing for a little longer?!"
"That is not it." She snaps, glaring at you. Turning her head away from you again you see her body tense in anger.
"Then why?!" You yell.
"Because I love you!" She yells as she turns towards you. "Because I was absolutely terrified after Mother Miranda showed up! It was one of the few times in my entire life where I was truly shaken to my core!"
"What were you so afraid of?!"
"You really want to know what happens down there? Fine! She would have implanted a parasite into you, the cadou. It would have been the most excruciating pain you've ever experienced in your life! It would mutate you and it would probably kill you, but not before you suffered more than you could ever possibly imagine! It was so horrific I wished for death! It's the reason I turned into this!" She says, gesturing at her body. "It took weeks for the mutation to complete, every second was filled with more pain than I ever thought was possible! That's what she wanted to do to you! I could not let her take you, I would never be able to live with myself if I allowed you to suffer the way I have and then die. When she fought to take you down there, it was like," she pants, searching for the words. "it was like someone had their hand in my chest and was threatening to rip my heart out! I couldn't bare it, the feeling of terror, the thought of you being put in harms way because of me. If she brought you down there," she shudders at the thought as more tears fall. "I would have spent the rest of eternity filled with regret."
Studying her face, you realize you've never seen her this disheveled before. Her golden eyes are red and bloodshot, her mascara is smeared under her eyes, remnants of it mixed with her tears leaving streaks down her face. Her usual pristine lipstick has moved from it's place, smearing at the corners. Matching her eyes, her nose is red and runny.
"So I abandoned you." She says softly, her voice laced with regret and hurt. "I need you to know that it was not because of something you did, or because you were not special or important to me." She says, looking into your eyes. "It was the only way I knew how to protect you."
"What about the maid?" You ask as your voice shakes.
"It was truly a moment of weakness." She says as she hangs her head in shame. "I was so frustrated, so pent up, nothing I tried offered any relief and with each passing day it was getting worse. I almost killed a maid for tripping for Gods sake. No matter what I did I could not get you out of my mind. The harder I tried, the worse it got and the more frustrated I became. After seeing you in the library and at dinner, I couldn't take it anymore, so I brought the first girl I came upon into my chambers. Even at the height of my release, you were all I was able to think of." She says with defeat in her voice.
Her words sink in as she speaks, it's comforting to know why she did what she did, but it doesn't take away all of the hurt, all of the insecurities that developed because of what she's done, it doesn't ease the anger.
"I wish you would have just talked to me." You say as you look away, staring into nothing.
"I didn't know how to."
A few more tears roll down your cheeks.
"Will you ever be able to forgive me?" She quietly asks, looking down at the floor.
"I don't know." Your voice is so low it almost comes out as a whisper.
Alcina nods her head and bends down, picking her gloves off of the floor. She stands and stares at you for a minute in silence, watching you staring off into nothing. Eventually, she turns towards the door.
"You're just gonna leave?" You ask.
She turns back towards you.
"Do you not want me to?"
"I don't know." You look down and fidget with your hands in your lap. "I don't want you to leave. But I don't, I don't want to ask you to stay." You say as tears begin to fall again. "You really hurt me, Alcina. The only other time I've felt this much pain was when my parents died. So much of me wants to hate you, but, I- I just can't." Looking up you see Alcina staring at you, hanging onto each word you say. "There's a big part of me that hates myself for still loving you. It would be so much easier if I could just stop, but I can't. But I can't forgive you, not for everything, not yet."
"I understand." She says quietly.
"I was in so much pain- I'm still in so much pain. My heart felt like it was dying." You bring your hands to your face as you sob. "I went from feeling like I was actually worthy of someone's love, like I was actually worth more than what I was told for so much of my life, to feeling completely worthless. I didn't think I could feel more worthless than I did at home, but this- this broke me. It completely broke me."
You see Alcina walks towards you in your prereferral vision and you look up at her. She slowly and carefully reaches her hand out towards you, hesitating as she waits for your reaction as tears stream down her face. When you don't pull away, she gently rests her hand on your shoulder. It almost pisses you off how much comfort such a simple touch from her brings to you, but the truth is, you missed the comfort she brought you.
You lightly lean into her touch and in one quick movement Alcina wraps her arms around you, kneeling on the floor in front of you. The floodgates open as you grab onto the fabric of her dress, sobbing into her. Alcina buries her face into your neck and you feel hot tears dripping down your shoulder and chest as she cries into you.
"I don't know how to stop loving you." You cry into her. "But I don't know how to forgive you either. I don't know what to do."
"You are worth more to me than you will ever know. I'm so, so sorry y/n. I never wanted to hurt you and I ended up doing it anyway." She says as she cries on your shoulder. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive myself."
You spend the next few minutes crying into each other, her arms wrapped tightly around you. As your sobs slow, stray tears fall down your cheeks onto Alcina's chest while your head rests against her. Alcina breaks the silence once she hears your heartbeat begin to settle.
"Is there anything I could possibly do?" There's a hopelessness in her voice that makes your heart ache a little.
"I don't know." You quietly say, gently shaking your head.
She nods and rests her cheek against the top of your head.
As you sit on the edge of your bed with your head resting on her chest, you allow yourself to be comforted by her. The stabbing pain in your heart persists, a game of tug-of-war rages on. Fighting between wanting to find a way to forgive her so things can go back to the way they were and never wanting to trust her again. Your body rises along with her chest as she takes a deep breath and slowly exhales.
"I love you."
Alcina's voice is barely a whisper, you're surprised you're heard her at all. Closing your eyes, you listen to the relaxing tempo of her heartbeat as you rest against her.
"No matter what you chose to do, I will support your decision. It's the very least I can do after putting you through so much pain." She gently pulls away and cups your face in her hands, looking into your eyes. "I don't know if I will ever stop loving you, but if you chose to stop loving me, I give you my word I won't hold it against you. All I want is for you to be happy, even if that means you're happy without me."
Tears stream down her face as you study her. You see the sincerity in her eyes, the fear that you'll never come back to her, the hurt, you also see love. It's a look in her eyes you've only seen once before, it happened one night when you were in bed together. At the time, you weren't sure what it was, it flashed across her eyes so briefly you were only able to see it's softness, that she was letting her walls down. Within seconds the look in her eyes was gone, the walls put right back up. This time she didn't put up walls, letting you see deep into her soul through her glittering gold eyes.
You still love her. Tears fill your eyes once more as you think about it, you still love her, so much. But you were also hurt by her so badly you can't bring yourself to forgive her as easily as you would both like. It frustrates you that you're still able to love her so much after all that she did; you don't understand how or why. There's still a part of you that wants to hate her forever, but you're beginning to realize that that little voice is the voice of fear. The fear of getting hurt again, the automatic defense put in place to protect your heart from being heartbroken again. As you look into her eyes you realize that you would regret it if you didn't at least try to forgive her. She has a lot to make up for, a lot to prove, but you have to try.
Closing your eyes, tears roll down your cheeks. Her cool thumbs gently wiping them away.
"I still love you so much." You say, opening your eyes and looking into hers. "I will never be able to stop loving you Alcina." Feeling her body tensing in anticipation, you see tears filling her eyes once more. "I will regret it if I don't try and forgive you, but I need you to put in the effort to fix this. I want to take things slow, but I need you to show me, to prove to me that I can trust you again. And I don't mean by buying me a bunch of expensive shit or waiting on me hand and foot. I don't want gifts, I want to see effort, real effort, in trying to fix this."
"I give you my word, I will do everything I can to regain your trust."
Looking into her eyes, you nod your head. She wraps her arms around you once more and pulls you into her.
"Thank you." She says quietly. "I know I don't deserve your kindness, but I am grateful for your generous heart."
"Everyone deserves a second chance."
The dinner bells rings and Alcina holds you for another second before letting you go.
"Would you like to join the girls and I for dinner?" She asks.
"I don't know if I'm ready for that just yet."
Alcina has a sadness in her eyes but nods her head.
"But, I was thinking of spending some time in the library after dinner, if you and the girls want to join me?"
Looking back up at you, you see a spark of hope and excitement in Alcina's eyes.
"I would love to." She says with a smile. God, how you missed seeing her smile.
The second dinner bell rings and Alcina wipes the tear streaks off of her cheeks with the back of her hand.
"Oh I probably look like such a mess." She says to herself as she goes to stand up.
"Wait here." You say, she tilts her head at you but stays kneeling on the floor. Hopping off of the bed, you go into the bathroom and grab a hand towel and run it under warm water and make your way back out with it.
"Can I?" You ask, holding up the towel.
Alcina smiles and gently nods. Placing your hand under her jaw you carefully begin to wipe away the mascara and makeup that ran down her cheeks and clean up the smeared lipstick.
"Look up." Alcina looks up and you wipe away the makeup smeared under her eyes. "Much better." You say as you finish wiping off the last of it. Her eyes are still red and puffy, but it's an improvement.
"Thank you -" she opens her mouth to continue but stops herself and smiles. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, she rests her hand on your cheek for a moment and looks into your eyes. "I should start making my way to the dining hall, I'm sure the girls are waiting. I'll have a maid bring you up a tray?"
"Thank you. I'll meet you all in the library after dinner?"
"Absolutely."
Alcina pauses and looks into your eyes once more, she studies your face and gently caresses your cheek with her thumb. After a few moments her hand leaves your face and she stands up and puts her gloves back on. Turning her head towards the door, a smirk crosses her face. You have no idea what she's smirking at until you too begin to hear the excited buzz of the girls outside the door and a few "shhh's" and "shut it's."
Without making a sound, Alcina walks towards the door, she carefully reaches for the doorknob and whips it open, revealing the three girls huddled outside. The girls are startled and they all let out a squeal, bursting into a large swarm of flies and flying down the hall towards the staircase. Alcina chuckles and shakes her head, looking back at you. You can't help but chuckle as well at the girls antics. After exchanging one more smile, Alcina ducks out of the doorway and closes the door behind her.
You toss the hand towel into the hamper and go into the bathroom and wash your own face. Just like Alcina's, your eyes are red and puffy and your face and chest are flushed. Once you're finished you hear a knock on the door, you open it to find a maid delivering you dinner.
"Thank you." You say, taking the tray from her. After making yourself comfortable, you dig in, you didn't realize just how hungry you were until you ate almost everything on the tray.
"I guess not properly eating for a week will do that to you." You think to yourself.
Once you're finished you leave your room and head down to the library and find the book you wanted. You take a seat on one of the couches by the fireplace and begin to read. After a few minutes you hear the door open and a buzzing noise fills the air.
"Y/n!!" Daniela says as she appears in front of you. "What are you reading?!"
"Hey! Look who's not dead!" Cassandra says endearingly.
"Cass!" Bela says, scolding her. "Glad you're back, y/n."
Daniela plops down next to you and looks at the book.
"Is that the one you started reading to me last week?!"
"Sure is kiddo, want me to keep going?"
"YES!" Daniela says as she wraps her arms around you and squeezes you just a little too tight.
"Daniela, please don't crush her." You look up and see Alcina walking into the library with a smile on her face.
"Sorry mom, I just got so excited!"
"I know draga." Alcina says as she takes a seat across from you.
Daniela lays down in your lap and you begin to read to her. Bela and Cassandra make themselves comfortable, Bela with a new book in her hand and Cassandra with her sketchbook.
With her glasses sitting on the bridge of her nose, Alcina looks over them and takes in the scene around her. Bela sitting nicely in one of the chairs, deeply invested in her book, Cassandra laying on the rug, sketching her little heart away, Daniela laying on the couch with her head in your lap, and you, with your hand in Daniela's hair, gently scratching her scalp, reading to her. This isn't the first time you've all been here together, but after the last week, Alcina has a new appreciation for seeing the people she loves more than anything all together once again. Her heart swells as she looks at each of you, a smile stretching across her face.
Looking up from the book, you watch as Alcina studies each girl with the warmest smile on her face. Her eyes shift from Daniela and lock with yours, she's a little surprised to see you looking at her, but you see the love in her eyes. You exchange smiles and return to your books, you know you both have a long way to go before things get back to where they were before, and you know it won't be easy, but for the first time in a while, you're hopeful.
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dellalyra · 9 months
Note
I looked at the prompt list, but i literally COULD NOT decide, but i was thinking, what if Megumi or Tsumiki had a really bad nightmare? How would Gojo and Reader help them? I was thinking baby Megumi, in his sleepy, not being as menacing and just being scared and asking reader for help (cause gojo would bully him)
Also Ily, thank you for your service to society.
A/N: cryin screamin throwin up i can’t this was so sweet to write I think I got a cavity. Having soft sleepy baby Megumi made me so happy to write bc I feel he definitely had his vulnerable tiny little boy moments with these two after he settled in - still a prickly little cactus man most days but occasionally he just needed a cuddle - bc who wouldn’t? Especially if it’s Gojo giving them. Also ily and thank you so much these kind of messages MAKE MY FUCKIN DAY. Keep em coming!!!!!
listen to: luv note - chloe moriondo
la lune - billie marten
A Little Extra Love
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Waking up to the sound of obvious nightmares wasn’t unusual for you. You’d been sleeping beside Satoru for a couple of years now, and you’ve shared rooms with Geto and Shoko - the four of you have seen too much shit to sleep unscathed. At least once a month, you’d be sitting with Satoru, still shaking and crying from the lingering feelings of fear and pain stemming from the nightmare - of Riko, of Suguru, of Toji - of losing you. You were no stranger yourself, dreams of bloodied white hair in your lap and vacant blue eyes with a stab wound through his throat plagued you - the image of Suguru holding a young girl's corpse, of the last time you saw Haibara all poisoned your sleep now and again.
So waking at 2am to the sounds of soft whimpers made you immediately turn around to wake your boyfriend from what you expected to be his nightmare - only to find him fast asleep, hair wild across the pillow and drool leaking from the corner of his mouth as he lay starfished across the bed. There was no relief however in seeing a peaceful Satoru - because that meant it was one of the kids.
They’d been with you for about 9 months now, and it was almost Megumi’s 7th birthday.
You bolted up, trying to stay silent as you creeped out your door and ran down the hallway to the kids rooms - the sound was coming from Megumi’s room so you softly opened the door and came face to face with a sight that broke your heart. Megumi was clutching his frog plush so tight that his small knuckles were white and his face was contorted in fear - whimpers and soft cries coming from his trembling mouth.
Dashing across to his bed, you gently sat on the bed beside him. You knew that waking anyone - let alone a 6 year old - abruptly from a nightmare would only cause more fear, so you began to softly coo his name and stroke his soft black hair away from his face. After about 20 seconds, you placed a hand on his little chest and rubbed soothing circles - causing his eyes to flash open and the frog to be clutched even tighter to his chest as he let out a yelp at whatever woke him, eyes wide and petrified frantically scanning the room before he surprised you by flinging his tiny arms around your neck and clutching you right and crawling his way into your lap.
“You’re okay sweet boy, you’re safe. It was a nasty dream, that’s all.” You coo into his hair, with the softest voice you can muster. You hate seeing him like this, you wish he didn’t have the trauma he did so he could worry about things normal little boys did instead.
He sniffled into your chest, head pressed into your fluffy pyjama top face first. You continue the slow cycles on his back and wrap your arm around his legs to keep his close to you.
“Do you wanna talk about it, baby?” You ask.
He shudders, but nods.
“He c-came to get us, my dad, he came in here and took me and ‘Miki and said w-we had to leave with him to the big Zen’in family and never come home again and h-he said you didn’t w-want us and-” and the sobs took over as you got the gist of the dream and if the ghost of Toji Fushiguro was in front of you right now you’d kill him and send him back to hell again.
“Oh, my sweet boy - that’s never gonna happen. We’re never leaving you or Tsumiki, we always will want you guys - we love you both so much. I promise, no matter how much me and Satoru annoy you guys you can’t get rid of us, ‘Kay? We’re a family now. Your dad isn’t taking you from us, pinky promise.”
‘Because your unofficially adopted father killed him and him and I threatened the Zen’in family so much that they’re too scared to come within a mile of you two!’ Is the bit you leave out.
You also leave out that you and Satoru are looking at legally adopting them - that’s for another, happier time.
He sticks his little pinkie finger out and locks it with yours, sniffling a tiny bit more and rubbing his face (snot and all) onto your koala print top, but you couldn’t care less when you can feel the shaking start to settle.
“We can stay with you guys forever, ‘Miki too? Even though she has no magic stuff like me and you guys because the Zen’in said that she wasn’t worth keeping and -” He asks.
“Megumi - we don’t want you two because of what you can or can’t do - we love you guys as Megumi and Tsumiki, nothing else. Even if neither of you could do any of that stuff, you’re stuck with us, okay? Satoru and I have enough magic to keep us all safe - the whole family, okay?” You hate the Zen’in family for even planting that fear in his little brain.
“I love you too.” He says as his tears dry and you wipe his little face. This is only the second time he’s said it to you both, once was a few weeks ago when you and Satoru put him to sleep and both whispered “love you!” into his softly lit room and he whispered “love you guys too.”
You both sobbed that night - you’re both only 21 - can’t be doing that bad of a job with them if he says it back, can you?
“You’re such a brave boy. If you get more yucky dreams again, you come get me or Satoru, okay?” You plonk a kiss on his spiky hair.
“Just you. Not Satoru.” He looks down, fiddling with your necklace.
“Why not, sweetie?”
“I - don’t want him to know.”
“About the nightmares?”
He nods.
“He - he’s the strongest. I don’t want him to think I’m not brave or strong.” He says, words that shouldn’t even compute that way in his head.
“Absolutely not - baby, who told you that being scared makes you not brave or strong?” You tilt his little head up.
“My dad.”
“Well your dad’s dumb then. You can only be really brave if you’re scared. Being scared and fighting anyway is the bravest thing a person can do, I promise. Think about it this way - who’s the bravest and strongest person you know?” You ask as he giggles at you saying Toji’s dumb (you’ve plenty of other names too for that man.)
“You and Satoru.” He says with such resolve your heart melts, you expected him to say Satoru, so being included felt good.
“Satoru and I both get nightmares too, I had one last week, Satoru a few nights ago. It doesn’t mean you’re not brave or strong - it just means you need a little extra love, that’s all.” You nod at him, and you seem the surprise in his eyes at the revelation that the strongest and bravest people he knows get nightmares too, shattering the words Toji had planted into smithereens. How could nightmares mean you’re not those things if you guys had them? You had to know, because you and Aunty Koko were the smartest people in the world. Maybe Ijichi too.
He’s quiet for a minute.
“So if I have a bad dream - I can come get you or Satoru?” He asks.
“You can get more or him for anything at all, honey, not just bad dreams. We’re always here for you, and nothing will change our minds about how much we love you, or how brave and strong and smart and kind you are - ‘Kay?” He nods into your chest at this.
He settles down, small fingers still fiddling with your pendant.
“C’mon, do you wanna come stay with us in our room tonight?” You say.
He thinks for a second.
Then nods, and yawns.
So you lift him onto your hip, ensuring he has his frog and his water bottle and carry him down the hall into your room. Satoru’s still splayed across the bed like he’s determined to use every single centimetre of his long ass body to claim territory.
You point at the drool on his face and Megumi giggles, hearing Satoru order dessert in his sleep.
You lay him down between you both, and crawl in under the covers as he settles in - the movement stirring Satoru, who’s eyes open and he looks in confusion.
“Princess whatcha doin’ up? S’late. Wait - what you doin’ here kid?” He slurs, lifting himself onto his side to face you both.
Megumi looks at you and you smile, tucking him into the bed with you both.
“‘Gumi had a bad dream, ‘toru - so he’s going to stay with us tonight, a little extra love - yeah?” You say, petting both your boys hair. ‘A little extra love’ was what you had said to Satoru when you found him awake after a nightmare back in first year of high school. He smiled at that, eyes dropping back closed as he ruffled Megumi’s hair.
“Bad dream are the worst, aren’t they kiddo? I hate ‘em. If any bad guys come near you I’ll blast them into space, ‘kay? You just shout for me in your dream and let me deal with ‘em.” Satoru mumbles, sleep quickly taking him again, as he shuffles in closer to the middle and you both wrap an arm around the little boy who is snuggling in to return to sleep.
“Promise?” Megumi asks, poking Satoru’s nose.
“Pinky promise.” Satoru replies, lips quirked but eyes shut.
Megumi smiles softly to himself, and hugs his frog and shuts his eyes.
You let out a yawn, eyes closing heavy.
“Goodnight boys, I love you both.”
“Night Y/N. Luh’ you too.” Megumi mumbles, hair splayed almost identically to Satoru’s.
“Night night, Princess. Love ya’ always, you too kiddo.”
No more nightmares that night, just four sleeping soundly in a quiet cottage.
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808heartz · 6 months
Text
sunshine on a rainy day — rúben dias
apart of the dad series.
prompt: birth of the baby.
genre: fluff, domestic fluff.
summary: rúben’s been prepared for this day from the moment you told him that you were pregnant.
warnings: mentions of labor and delivery, anxious feelings and feeling overstimulated a bit.
The rain hit the window pane with force, a comfortable pitter-patter sound, nonetheless, but the accompanying thunder had you jumping out of sleep every time that you thought you’d finally be able to doze off. You took a look at the digital clock and sighed at the time, seven-thirty in the morning was way too early for you, and considering you hadn’t had much sleep in the first place, it didn’t seem like you weren’t going to get any at all. Your hand laid on your rounded belly, smiling to yourself when you felt your daughter kick almost instantly, and although she played a part in why your sleep was so bad at times—you still couldn’t wait to meet her, which was only a few days away now.
You reached for Rúben’s side of the bed, and to no one’s surprise at all, you didn’t feel him laying there. He was always up at six in the morning sharp to get ready for training, a man of strict routine, and he prided himself on the discipline he had; you, on the other hand, weren’t as eager as he was to wake up. You sat up on the bed slowly, holding onto your stomach as you tried to find a comfortable position to help yourself stand up, and soon as you did: cramps hit you quickly, making you grimace with every step that you took.
The pain only increased and with little relief it provided, the only thing you could do was do the breathing exercises recommended by your parenting class instructor. You were able to make it to the kitchen after a few minutes, catching Rúben before he left for training, and before you could even muster up the strength to say good morning, his eyes had practically bulged out of his head as he walked over to you.
“Anjo, are you okay?” He questioned worriedly, concern laced in his voice as he examined you. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion when his eyes landed down on your pants and he noticed the large wet spot. “Did you wet the bed again, baby?”
You did a double take, wincing as you held your stomach, and shook your head with a slight attitude. “No, I didn’t wet the bed, Rúben.” You breathed out, trying to keep your composure and not be angry at him from the pain. “Why would you ask me that?”
“Because your pants are very wet.”
You looked down quickly and gasped, feeling the warmth spread across your cheeks in embarrassment. You met his gaze once more, lips parted as you were going to speak, but instead you grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly, feeling yet another cramp that hurt more than the last one.
Then suddenly, it hit you and Rúben.
“I think my water broke.”
“Ohmygod, your water broke.”
The two of you spoke at the same time, you in a frantic state while Rúben had never been more calm. He held onto your hand and intertwined your fingers with his, kissing the back of your hand as he led you to the bathroom as fast and gentle as he could. He helped you take off your pajamas, not rushing you through the pain of your contractions, and he took the death grips that you held his hand in like a champ, even as he was turning on the shower.
Rúben placed a tender kiss on your temple, tucking his index finger underneath your chin to make you meet his gaze. His brown eyes were soft, slight worry in them now, but he was always able to hide that.
“Listen to me, amor,” He murmured to you gently. “You’re gonna freshen up, I’m gonna grab the bags, and then…. we’re gonna go have our baby, okay?”
You nodded slowly, still breathing heavily as you tried to work through your uncomfortable contractions. He helped you into the shower, and he made sure you were stable, along with comfortable, before he dashed out of the bathroom to grab the baby bags.
You tried to wash up as much as you could, taking a quick shower and Rúben helped you every step of the way—drying off, lotioning yourself, helping you put on your clothes, and he even styled your hair as best as he could to your liking before the two of you left. You gripped his hand the entire walk to the garage, in the car, and outside of the hospital when he parked. You couldn’t even recall the drive, overcome with discomfort as you spilled curses from your lips that you couldn’t hold back.
Rúben opened your passenger door, holding an opened umbrella for you as he helped you get out of the car. He covered you with it while he walked in the heavy rain with no problem, holding your duffel bag.
Check-in, luckily, was quick. You were admitted and given a room fast, which normally, didn’t happen. The nurses were attentive and caring, and they made an unpleasant part of the birthing experience as tolerable for you as they could—providing you with the proper relief, and you were able to get some shut-eye as you were nowhere near close to being ten centimeters dilated.
———
Rùben was still there when you woke up, an hour and a half later. In fact, he’d never even left the room. He’d never admit it, not wanting to scare you, but he was far too worried about leaving you alone: even if he was incredibly hungry and needed some food.
He wasn’t going to leave your side, not at all.
Much to his relief, and yours, the doctor came in and informed you that you were just about ready to start pushing. While you were incredibly happy to finally meet your baby girl, it suddenly became real now.
Your hands shook with fear, the rain poured down against the windows a little harder, and the room had even gotten a bit colder.
Everything seemed like too much now.
You looked over at Rúben with worried eyes, and your breath hitched at the three other nurses that walked into the room—ready to assist you and the doctor.
“Rúben,” You whimpered softly, tears welling in your eyes. “I’m scared, this is really happening now.”
Rúben quickly got up from his chair and took your hand, kissing the back of it as he looked at you sincerely. His other hand rested on your cheek, rubbing it gently with the pad of his thumb, comforting you silently before he moistened his lips with his tongue and tried to find the right words in his head.
“It’s okay to be scared, anjo,” He began to speak, trying to get you to focus on him and his voice as he looked around the room—almost feeling overstimulated himself from all the people in the room, but his fight or flight reflex relaxed at the sound of your daughter’s steady heart beat from the monitor. “This is our first baby and it’s really happening, it’s scary, but I’m so glad we’re here. You’re gonna do an amazing job, and I’m gonna be right next to you, holding your hand, meu amor.”
His lips parted, he had more to say, but the nurse had softly interrupted and handed him the disposable scrubs to wear as he’d asked her earlier about them. He looked at her with a smile, quietly thanking her before he turned back to you, and pressed a gentle kiss against your lips; hoping that the warmth of his lips on yours would say everything that he couldn’t to soothe you.
As quick as Rúben walked into the bathroom to change, he came back out, as if he didn’t want to miss a single second and leave you on your own. He held your hand and watched as the nurses adjusted your bed, how they positioned your legs while the doctor checked to see if you were dilated; and finally, you were at ten centimeters, one step closer to meeting your daughter.
The doctor began to speak to you and Rúben, directing you on when to push and when to take some breaths, and you listened, gripping Rúben’s hand tightly before the first push. Your breaths were heavy as you continued to push when instructed, trying to take in all the words of encouragement from those around you, especially from Rúben.
“You’re doing so well, meu amor,” He whispered in your ear, dabbing at the sweat on your hairline with a wet cloth. “Keep going, baby.”
He kept the wet cloth laying on your forehead, putting another behind your neck to help you not overheat, and it made you wonder how throughout the stress of your delivery that he knew exactly what you needed. How he always knew what you needed.
The doctor and nurses continued their encouragement, telling you that you were almost there; that they could see her, and as tired as you were, you couldn't give up now. You wouldn't, and you looked up at Rúben as you pushed for the last time, breathing heavily when you did.
His teary eyes met yours when the two of you finally heard the long-awaited cries of your baby girl.
Rúben’s tears trickled down his cheeks, he looked at you with an incredulous amount of love, and his forehead rested against yours as he murmured sweet nothings to you.
"I'm so proud of you." He whispered over and over.
Your own eyes filled with tears, blinding your vision, and you quickly wiped at your eyes when a nurse showed the both of you your daughter, Catía; laying her on your chest, and you held back a sob when she immediately made herself comfortable on you. Rúben leaned in closer and he couldn’t control his sniffles, tearing up all over again and he let his tears fall: pressing a kiss against your forehead, and on the crown of his newborn daughter’s head.
“Catía looks just like you,” You murmured, looking down at her with a soft smile before peering up to look at him. The soft brown eyes they both had, the way her lips lifted up like his did: she was almost like a carbon copy of him, a lot of Rúben with a bit of you.
“You think so?” He smiled softly when you nodded.
Rúben wiped his eyes and blew out a shaky breath when the nurse took her from your chest to pass her over him. He sat down, not before bringing his chair closer to your hospital bed, and held his arms out. The nurse placed her in his arms, softly explaining to him how to hold her properly before she took a step back and let Rúben hold her on his own without help.
You watched as his teeth bit down on his bottom lip: you knew that he was holding back more tears and he didn’t want them to fall, but the more that he looked at his daughter, the more that he held her—he just couldn’t believe that she was here already.
He still couldn’t believe that he was a father now. He’s been ready for this day for as long as he could remember, but finally seeing her: it made it real.
Rúben looked at you, his eyes bloodshot and brimming with even more tears. He was overcome with emotion, like he’d never felt before, and he was filled with adoration. His eyes met yours, locked in until the soft sounds of rain had started up again and he looked out the window: catching the grey skies and how gloomy it looked, but when he looked down at his daughter, all he could see was a beautiful, shining light.
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