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#working with kids is nice but they exhaust me so i can't do it full time but it's a part time job
im2tired4usernames · 11 days
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Every single time I defend someone shitty who has done nothing but be a cunt to me because they did 1 (ONE ) decent thing THEY ALWAYS TURN AROUND AND DO SOMETHING SO MUCH WORSE TO ME
#every single time i praise aomeone for turning a new leaf they fuck me over#my life is continuing getting worse and worse and worse and worse and i really don't know how much longer i want to deal with this shit#if things do not change soon I'm quitting I'll run away and i will never come back#i praise y sister for growing up she steals and then lies about it and i print with out a shadow of a doubt she did it wont admit it#coworker who bums job off onto me dose. one piece of work then fucked off and dowe nothing else all day then spreads rumors i lied about my#moms cancer#like i can pull up her obituary bitch#dad dose 1 nice thing then like let's me go to bed instead of doing all the dishes that accumulate while i was at work#then need day turns me back into a slave#is goin to marry his yandere bitch gf my mother has not been dead a year yet good for him#I'm done#i hate being alive i can't daydream about anything anymore except death#i used to be able to daydream ocs n stories that stopped years ago then it was day dreaming about a better life with my wife#that's hard to believe it'll ever happen in just trapped and my dad constantly discourages me getting independent or doin anything for mysel#no don't get a full time job don't move out you cam never do it no don't try to learn sewing again doing try dnd again doing make new friend#don't do anything to make like nice#I'm allowed Wednesday nights after the kids go to church and that's it and if it clashes with family aucks to be me#and i don't get to make. it up the next day like dad#i cant stand my life i hate it so much#i hate my family minus my four youngest siblings#i hate my job i hate waking up i hate feeling exhausted all the time#being alive is disappointment and work I'm tired of it#I'm tired#i dont want to do this anymore#i need something to change but I'm trapped nothing will change unless i do it#and i hate that I'll probably have to leave ao much behind
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luveline · 6 months
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I love the KBD universe 🩵🩵. It’s so soft and comforting. Idk how you always write such gentle slice of life moments that stay soft even when there’s moments of conflict.
I was rereading the series, and in one scene Steve asks reader if they wanna make out, but Avery comes in before they can. Can I request a scene where they do get to make out (nothing super spicy) and spend that time with each other? I know it’s got to be difficult with four kids.
kisses before dinner —you and Steve languish in some rare alone time. mom!reader, 1k
"Hello," you whisper.
He looks up in surprise, eyebrows lifted. That surprise quickly melds to a soft-boned happiness as you sit in his lap —he's splayed sideways on the armchair, and you have to sit sort of sideways on him to meet his eyes. 
"Everybody's sleeping," you say, brushing a stray strand of hair from his eyes as the TV light paints him a blur of multicolour. "Even Wren." 
He looks up. "How'd you do that?" 
You told him to relax for a bit before bath time. He must've gotten distracted by the TV, which he doesn't often get to watch lately, and so you hadn't really minded. Full time childcare is exhausting. It comes to something when you're nearly happy to go to work, though coming home every night is still what you wait for, and it's thanks to him that you can drive home in excitement.  
"I'm multi-talented." You nestle your way under his chin, his arms curling around you as though they have a job to do. Firm. Immediate. "Wren went down like a miracle. I only had to rub her back." 
"Avery?" Steve asks. 
Avery's under the weather, so you let her skip bath time and tucked her in, sending her to sleep with little more than a forehead kiss. Beth was similarly eager for bed, knocking out after half of a story, her hand insistently in yours. Dove, in contrast, took three times as long to settle, but was convinced by the pad of your pinky finger as it traced up and down the bridge of her nose. 
"Tactile creatures, your girls," you murmur. 
"Where do they get it from?" he asks as he begins to stroke a quarter circle into your back. "Tokyo Olympics called again. Team USA needs you on their roster." 
He's declaring you impressive for such a feat as tonight's solo bed time. "The answer's still no. I don't think anyone wants to see me in a leotard." 
"I do," he says, kissing the top of your head. His lips soft, his voice the same, he hugs you closer still. "I so do. You look nice in everything." 
You could fall asleep like this, in his arms, his lap, your face drifting down his chest as you curl into his warmth. There's nowhere else you'd rather be (besides possibly bed, but even then you'd need it to be with him). "Thanks, Steve." 
"You're welcome." 
The room is quiet. The house stirs and rain lashes the darkened windows every now and then with the indecisive winds, whistling through tree branches far away. You shiver at the sound and Steve sets your goosebumps right with bigger strokes of his hand, a familiar up and down pressed into your back. Pressure to distract the senses. 
"Thanks for doing bed time." 
You wave it away. It's nice to be appreciated, but in the face of everything he does you don't want any thank yous tonight. "I just wanted to spend some time with you." 
"Yeah?" he asks, sinking lower into the armchair, the majority of your weight following down onto his abdomen rather than his legs. 
"I really…" missed isn't the right word. You missed him while you were at work, and time spent with him and the girls is just as worthy and sweet as time alone, but that doesn't mean you can't want both. "I've been thinking about you." 
Steve doesn't flinch at your odd wording, the opposite. He knuckles trail loosely to the small of your back, a smugness to the curve of his lips as he smiles, and says, "I've been thinking about you." 
Steve usually looks handsome. You've seen him bedraggled, dishevelled, and exhausted, of course, but he puts a majesty into nearly everything he does. He can take a plate down from one of the kitchen cabinets or hike one of your sweethearts onto his hip and you'll remark to yourself about how pretty he looks. This isn't taking into consideration how attractive you find his heart (that list is endless —compassion, dedication, loyalty, etc). The stuff you love about Steve goes on and on and on.
You curl a hand behind his head and card through his hair, not sure what to say. His eyes meet yours. "They don't have a word for how much I love you, H." 
His voice rasps with a low pleasure, "I could think of a bunch for you. Only if you want. I'm smart like that." 
Your lips twitch. "Please," you say, giving his scalp a playful scratch. 
"Endlessly," he begins. "Eternally. Overflowingly." He leans forward to touch your noses together. "Fuck," —he laughs as he searches for another— "started so strong. Uh… infinitely. A whole fucking lot?" 
"Loads." 
You both laugh, the heat of the others breath like a phantom of a kiss between you. 
"Loads," he agrees. "Wickedly." 
"Deviously?" 
"Ambitiously. A shit ton." 
You kiss him gingerly, not worried he won't kiss back but wanting to stay in this moment for as long as you can. "Love you loads," you say against his lips. 
With your eyes closed you can't see his expression, but you can guess at what he's doing. Steve likely has his brows sewn together, a grimace on his lips that might suggest the opposite of what he's feeling. 
He acts like kissing you is the only thing that he could ever need, that this intermission is painful but absolutely necessary. "I love you," he says. He whispers your name, raising his hand to cup your cheek. His marriage finger rubs a mindless little shape into the soft skin under your eye. "I love you." 
You wrap your arms around his neck and hook him closer, smiling into a second and much less ginger kiss. 
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beatrixstonehill2 · 2 months
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"A lot of people ask me, 'Chloe, what's the hottest part of being a pregnant trans girl?' And I mean, there are a lot of things! First of all, my womb is technically State property, so I have no say in if I get pregnant or not. Every time my uterus is ready I'm inseminated via a small port on my side, after lots of fertility drugs, of course, which are part of my hrt routine. I'd say, though, my favorite thing is the uncertainty of birth...... My port has a tracking device. So all of my checkups and any medical-related stuff happens compulsorily wherever I am. They pull up, take off my clothes, measure me, weigh me, take breast milk samples, semen samples, ask me embarrassing questions about how often I'm having sex, masturbating, if I'm letting men smack my belly during intercourse and if not, why not?
So I can be out on a date or at work or in line at the grocery store and they'll come up to me and do this whole checkup as everyone watches, filming, gossiping about it, and my body.... It's so humiliating, having my clothes removed, or sometimes even cut off of me with scissors, as the nurses and doctors only talk to each other and never me. I just have to obey as they touch and poke my body, grabbing me, openly talking about my growth and stuff..... I can only talk if they ask me questions like 'How many men have you fucked this week?' or 'Are you engaging in any extreme bondage?' or 'Are you using drugs while you prostitute?' I then have to explain that I don't prostitute myself and they don't believe me..... Well, I mean..... OK I hook sometimes but not all the time! It's just a hobby......
Then of course they weigh me and ask me stuff like how fat I'm trying to get..... again, more loaded fetish questions..... They take milk samples as another nurse jerks me off for a semen sample. When they're done they give me a nice spank and go on their merry way, leaving me still in line or at a restaurant on a date, naked, hugely pregnant, totally embarrassed.... But of course, the real answer to the initial question is obvious.... The hottest thing? I wasn't given any way to give birth naturally, so like a growing amount of trans girls I don't get the pleasure of giving birth anally or urethrally...... I'm given C-Sections...... no matter where I am, just like my checkups.
Last time I had a guy over and I was riding him, my cock on his chest getting absolutely smashed to hell by my giant pregnant belly every time I pumped down on him. It was pure bliss, some of the best sex I had that whole week! When...... the doctor came in. They have a key because my womb is State property, so they can enter my place whenever...... They told us not to worry or bother interrupting ourselves. So I mindlessly rode his cock and he had the time of his life watching this unfold, as they smeared my belly with numbing gel and, yepppp....... And every time I slowed down they told me it was a routine retrieval, that my time was up for this pregnancy, to not 'be dramatic' and stop what I was doing....
We both came so many times, we were exhausted by the end, because after we came they'd smack my ass and tell me to keep riding. I covered his chest in so much cum, it was glorious! My balls legit felt ready to pop, picture it.... My big hips, riding a guy anally, my balls were on his groin getting smashed under the weight of my belly, full of quintuplets with every pump and thrust..... My scrotum was bruised for a week, which guys just found hot..... They slapped this gel on my incision after my babies were taken out (again, State property!), and my whole Caesarian scar was healed in like a day. Not that they bothered to line it up with my other three Caesarian scars, so my belly is gorgeous but it kinda looks like people are taking a samurai sword to my belly when I'm full term. Wait, don't give them any ideas..... Kidding! I love being a breeder for the State! And I can't wait to see how many kids get pulled out of my belly this time.... I'll try to fuck as much as I can when I'm full term, so hopefully I get to give another guy the ride of his life! ❤️"
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11 and 14 with David 🫶🙂 I love ur writing it’s amazing
11. "Star said you were out of town."
14. "Do you want me to kiss it better?"
I hope you'll like this!💜
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I sighed deeply as I locked my door behind me. The past couple of days had been exhausting. Making calls, day in, and day out. Running errands. Making sure everyone was exactly where they were supposed to be - which none of them were even if they were told multiple times where to go. Sure, organising the event had been fun, but damn - I'd be kidding if I said I felt alive at this very moment.
I dropped my bags on the welcoming mat, kicking my shoes off, dropping my coat on the floor. Tomorrow, I'd probably regret doing that and force myself to tidy it all up, but now I couldn't care less.
I walked into my kitchen, searching the cabinets for a wineglass. I knew I had them somewhere, but - this I also knew - I probably hadn't cleaned them up since last time I used them. It had been last Sunday when David had come by to wish me luck on my gig. I'd dropped the wineglasses in the sink the following morning, which is where they were right now. I really didn't want to clean them, so I decided to just pick a normal glass - it would still fulfil its purpose.
I grinned as I saw that the bottle was still half full, and with both glass and wine bottle in hand, I walked up the stairs to my bedroom. I'd decided on my trip back that tonight I'd do some well-deserved selfcare, have a good night's sleep afterwards, and sleep the day away.
The bathtub filled itself with hot water, the air quickly taking on the smell of my rosemary soap. I poured some wine in the glass before looking at it. It'd be easier to just drink straight from the bottle... putting the glass aside, I stepped into the bath, taking a long sip from the bottle.
The water was hot against my skin, soothing the soreness I'd gotten over the past few days. I closed my eyes, washed my body and hair, and only thought about getting out of the tub when the water turned cold. Once out, I decided that I had enough time and energy to also shave my legs - it's not that I thought it was a necessity to look nice, it's just that the softness of the blankets was much better appreciated with freshly saved legs. I put my bathrobe on, gathering everything I needed.
I sat on the edge of the bathtub, one leg on the outside used to keep myself steady, the other stretched so I could reach everything. I began to shave, working quickly - only to pause when I heard a strange noise.
A sound as if glass was slowly being broken, wood being pulled apart - I frowned. I listened. But when it stopped, I continued to shave. The first leg was done, and I moved to get access to the second. I was way less steady this time, still sitting on the edge of the tub, but now really needing to balance myself - the bathtub was still slippery and I didn't feel like actually turning around so I could feel a bit more balanced. I began to shave, and once again stopped when I heard a noise.
"Hello?"
No answer. I waited. Still nothing. I continued to shave, being almost done when suddenly -
"Hello kitten."
I jumped, slipping - my limbs went everywhere, and before I fully realised I was halfway upside down in the bathtub, my leg bleeding from a small cut made.
"Jesus fucking shit! You can't just barge in on people like that!"
David chuckled, taking my hand as he helped me up. "Sorry love. Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I think so."
He looked at me, kissing me softly, before I noticed his eyes taking on a slight hint of orange. "You're bleeding."
"You- have you fed?"
"I wouldn't endanger you." He grinned at me. "But you do smell divine."
"Awesome," I mumbled, looking at the cut. "It hurts, though."
"Do you want me to kiss it better?"
I bit my lip as I looked at him. "You just want to taste me."
"I think I've already done that many a time."
"Pervert."
He chuckled. Before I knew it, his mouth was on my leg, leaving soft wet kisses on the skin around the cut. I could have sworn I heard him moan when he actually licked up my blood.
"I- I eh think I'm okay now," I said softly, not trusting my voice.
"Come," he pulled me towards him, leading me to my bed. "How was your trip?"
I blinked - before telling him. How one of the bands had been running so late they'd missed their performance time, how angry they got when I told them that we could not switch around anymore, that they couldn't play. How two staged had happened to get the same name, and how every single artist got confused. How shitty the food was. But also about how wonderful it had been to see my vision come to live. How most of the artists had the time of their lives. Yeah, it had been great.
When I was done telling, I lay on his chest, smiling as he brushed his fingers through my hair. He'd taken the glass of wine I'd set aside taking a sip every now and then.
"Why did you step by? I mean, I wasn't supposed to be back until tomorrow."
"I saw your lights were on."
"Ah, you were stalking me again," I said with a grin, causing him to chuckle.
"No. I was just checking up. Star said you were out of town. Still that is."
"You worry about me?" I asked with a soft smile.
"You know what I think of you."
"Remind me." I grinned, trying to hide a yawn behind my hands.
"You're a bloody gift from heaven itself."
I chuckled. "You only say that because I'm your mate."
"It must be true then, hm?"
I smiled, sighing softly. "Will you stay with me?"
"I'll stay till dawn." He kissed me gently, wrapping a blanket around me. "Sleep tight, kitten."
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archangeldyke-all · 2 months
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Coming to your blog to relax and calm down bc I got some shit going on and it's starting to irritate me. If/when you've got the time for it, and if you're comfortable, it'd be really nice to see sev and reader helpindheal each other's inner children, could be modern or in universe if you want.
Love you, love you, kisses if you want them, I feel like fucking crying right now
my poor baby mars. ily so much baby i hope this helps you feel better <3
men and minors dni
sevika's the only person you can be your truest self in front of. it goes both ways
sometimes it's anger: you coming home exhausted and pissed off and spending thirty minutes ranting to sevika about your idiot boss.
sometimes it's sadness: sevika burying her face in your chest and holding onto your body like her life depends on it as she cries.
sometimes it's joy: both of you giggling and dancing around each other as you laugh and joke.
but the specialist of all, to you at least, is when you and sevika can be like kids together.
you've never been with someone you can be so goofy with. someone you feel so safe around, someone you feel so seen with.
it comes out in a lot of ways.
sevika gets sleepy around you so easily. you asked her about it once, why she's always slumping to sleep on your shoulder or in your arms, and she just smiled shyly and shrugged. "just feel safe around you." she mumbled. you tripped over your own breath and pulled her into after hearing that.
you guys play together (video games or board games or just hand games) and get so competitive about it. sevika gets this giddy glint in her eye when she's winning, cackling and jumping in her victory. if you're winning, sevika will do any and everything she can to beat you. wrestling you to the ground or blocking your view of the tv screen or tickling you or stealing your paper money-- she's half motivated by her need to win, half motivated by the giggles and screams she gets out of you.
as corny as it is, you guys aren't just girlfriends, you're best friends. sevika knows you so well, and you know her so well, that you're both so in tune with each other that half of the time you don't even need to talk to communicate. you have a series of specific hand gestures and facial expressions you've created throughout your relationship that work like a secret little language between the two of you.
you both revert to love-sick middle schoolers after a while together. sometimes you'll find little crumpled up pieces of paper in your pockets or tucked away in the book you're reading-- all of them little love notes from sevika. in exchange, you're always doodling your initials right next to one another, a big heart around them.
you guys make friendship bracelets together, and once sevika gets the hang of it, she's making you a new bracelet about once a month. if she ever catches you without one of her bracelets on (all of them stitched with a little S) she'll pout until you put one on. she refuses to take off the bracelets you make her, even if it means she'll have a forearm full of handmade bracelets.
sevika loves doing your hobbies with you, or having you do hers with her. she loves sitting next to you as you read and working on her laptop, or vice versa. she loves napping in your lap while you play video games, or having you sit in the kitchen while she cooks up snacks.
but her favorite thing to do is have you teach her, or being able to teach you.
she finds out you can't change a tire on your own, the next thing you know she's got you out on the pavement, showing you how to do it. or sevika admits to you that she's never played minecraft before, so of course you make her download it and start a game with her.
one time you told her you couldn't cook. she dressed you up in her favorite apron and walked you through each and every step of making dinner that night. it was sweet and romantic and cute-- and then she threw a handful of flour at your face and it became an all out food war in your kitchen. by the time you were done, you were both out of breath, abs aching from laughing so much, and covered in various sauces and powders and crumbs.
one of your favorite ways to spend time together as a couple is taking and edible and building a blanket fort, then spending the day cuddling inside, watching cartoons and eating junk food and goofing off with one another.
one night as you're falling asleep, sevika jolts awake next to you. you blink your eyes open and look over at her.
"babe?" you ask. she hums, settling back down against you.
"jus' a nightmare."
"you okay?"
"all good. got my girl here with me, i'll be okay." she mumbles. you laugh.
"love you baby."
"love you too. i feel like... i dunno. i feel like a kid around you, y'know?" she asks, yawning as she nuzzles against you. your heart melts and you press a kiss to her head.
"i know." you say nodding. "happiest kid in the world."
@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby
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midnight-talescape · 6 months
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𝒟𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝐿𝑒𝒶𝓋𝑒 (𝒴𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒟𝓇𝒶𝑔𝑜𝓃 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇)
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Kinktober Day 16: Double Penetration in One Hole
I skipped yesterday because I was having a little burn out lol.
Also I love dragons, like how can you say no to a dragon?
You just don't, you just fucking don't.
Warning: Size difference, Dragon cock, double penetration, yandere a little bit, etc, etc you get the point not for kid
Genre: filthy filthy smut
Word Count: 3055
。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。
Trap
Trap in this life.
Trap in this big empty castle.
A life full of lavish wealth and big empty cages.
A life of forced smiles, fake happiness, and loneliness.
You don't want to feel alone anymore.
You want a friend
So one night you sneaked into the treasury.
It didn't take long for you to find what you were looking for.
A whistle made of unknown material. You have heard it was a dangerous artifact that can grant the user a single wish, but it comes with a dire cost.
You didn't care, you took the whistle and blew a melody.
In your desperation, you didn’t question why there was nothing to protect the whistle or notice how the whistle seemed to glow within your hands.
You told the whistle your wish and your soul was laid out in the melody.
I wish for a friend
I wish to not be lonely anymore
I am willing to pay with my life and my soul
You waited and waited but nothing happened.
Disappointed, you sighed and sneaked back into your room.
I should have known it wouldn't work
As you fall asleep you don't notice the shadow in the corner that seems to gather around you.
。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。
When the light hit your eyes in the morning, you sat up groggily mentally preparing yourself for another exhausting day.
You blinked slowly when you felt something around your neck. Looking down you saw the whistle hanging around your neck.
“Wha?” You wrapped your hand around the whistle,
Did I take it last night?
Just as you were going to remove it a smoke erupted from the whistle and wrapped around your arm. Your eyes widen and then suddenly you hear a deep voice inside your head,
Hello…
“H-hello?” You said alarmed, “Who are you?”
…I’m Kuro…you summoned me last night…
Your eyes widen in excitement, all alarms thrown to the wind.
After all, what can you lose?
“Are you my friend?”
…yes…you can call me that if you want…
Came Kuro’s voice again, almost hesitantly as if he wasn't sure what he should be qualified as either.
You smile brightly unsure if he could see you, but you were happier than you have ever been in years.
“I’m (Y/N), it's a pleasure to meet you, Kuro!”
It's nice to meet you, princess…
In a cave far far away, Kuro's face flushed, not even blinking as he looked at your smile in the water.
Want to see you
。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。
You have fallen into a routine.
Wake up and say good morning to Kuro, who seems to be the black smoke that resides in the whistle.
He will wrap around your body as if to hug you, before giving you what you assume is a kiss.
Kuro will force you to go eat before returning to the whistle and you go on with your day.
You find it odd how in a short few months Kuro has possibly seen all of you.
At your best and your worst.
I guess it's a bit hard to hide from someone who’s with you all the time.
You have yet to see Kuro not answer when you call for him.
Kuro, Kuro, do you not sleep?
You called out in your mind as you watched the ambassador come in and go from the castle.
Usually I do it when I'm bored, but recently I have been too busy watching you…
You blinked at Kuro’s words, not expecting what he said, but grinned anyway.
Awwww do you love me so much that you can't stand not watching me every waking moment?
You have definitely gotten looser with Kuro, throwing sussy comments at him at random intervals.
Yes, princess… I cannot stand a single moment without seeing you. I love you, (Y/N)…
Your breath quickened as you heard him say that. Your face started to flush before you shook your head and ignored the weird look people gave you.
Don't say that, Kuro… I will think you mean it…
Kuro sighed in his cave as he heard what you said.
Why won't you believe him?
One day, one day he will let you understand…
…he meant every word he said to you…
。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。
So, like, I'm pretty sure the Duke’s son is not his, because that kid looks nothing like him. Also, I came across his mistress fucking a guard in the garden…
You rambled on in your brain as the court took their place at the royal table, not bothering to converse with the other as they put on their fake smile.
Kuro will make little noise to let you know he’s still listening, and occasionally he will put in some input on whatever conversation you guys are having.
You have gotten quite good at pretending to pay attention while talking to Kuro.
“…are you listening, (Y/N)?” Came your father’s voice,
You looked up quickly surprised, before nodding,
“Yes, father…”
Your father nodded, before continuing,
“Then we shall prepare for your wedding…”
“Ye- my what?!”
Your what?!
You and Kuro's voices echoed with each other as you both expressed your shock.
Your father frowned at you, but repeated himself,
“You will be married off to the son of our neighboring kingdom.”
You couldn't remember what happened next, just a faint memory of Kuro being pissed.
You could feel his rage washing over you, threatening to overtake your mind. Before it just stopped, just an air of cold hard anger.
What would you like to do, Princess?
“I don't know, Kuro… what else could I do?” you whisper out loud into the dark, your eyes filled with confusion and fear of the future,
I will do anything for you, Princess… remember that.
Blow the whistle and I will come for you, my dear…
。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。
You watched the oncoming crowd, your breath short and quick. You can feel yourself panicking.
The noise was too loud and the crowd was too big.
None of them were here because they felt happy for you, they were here for the benefit that this marriage will bring.
You were a tool and a pawn in the grand scheme of things.
I want to leave.
You thought to yourself as you looked at your fiance. Who’s smiling coldly and shaking hands with the guest.
He hasn't said a single thing to you the entire night, only ever looking at you with disdain.
I want to leave.
You thought again, Kuro hasn't been answering for days.
You were alone again.
You want to cry.
As you stood on the altar hearing the vow being recited, you felt the whistle hidden under your dress glowing warm.
Blow the whistle and I will come for you, my dear…
Kuro's voice echoed in your head.
Instinctively you pulled out the whistle from your dress and blew.
Within seconds the weather changed, you closed your eyes as the guest started screaming and the wind picked up, a roar could be heard from the distance.
When you open your eyes again, you finally see the source of the commotion.
A giant black dragon with red eyes was attacking the palace.
Instead of running away, you dodged all the guards and people who tried to grab you and ran toward the dragon.
You have never seen the dragon before, but you had a feeling…
“Kuro!!!”
The dragon looked toward you, its eyes turning to blue the second it saw you. In a split moment, it grabs you by your dress and throws you onto his back, before immediately taking flight.
You hold onto Kuro's neck and after a few minutes, you look down and see the kingdom below you.
Letting out a laugh you lean down and place a kiss on Kuro’s horn,
“You came! You came for me, Kuro!”
Of course, I did, a dragon always keeps their promises and you’re my favorite…
“Favorite what?” You ask as you try to reach for the cloud,
Everything, now be careful before I accidentally drop you.
“You will never drop me!” You said placing another kiss on his horn,
You couldn't see it but Kuro was blushing as he said,
What will I ever do about you…
。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。
“Princess, wake up. You have been sleeping the entire day.”
You yawned and opened your eyes sleepily, before pulling Kuro down by his neck.
“No….I want to sleep…sleep with me Kuro…”
Kuro blinked as he felt something soft on his chest as he was pulled down. Unfazed he pulled you up and carried your bridal style, walking toward the dining room.
“Come on, wake up sleepyhead. How long do you plan on staying like this? You need to eat.”
Sighing you looked up and let out another whine,
“Then give me a kiss, like sleeping beauty…”
Sighing, Kuro leaned down and pulled your head up for a kiss.
Your eyes closed and you let out a moan into the kiss, as Kuro slipped his tongue into your mouth.
Kuro pulled your face closer to him, deepening the kiss as he explored your mouth. You let out a moan, your scalp tingling as he sucked the tip of your tongue.
When you guys broke apart a string of saliva connected the two of you before breaking apart.
You lay in Kuro's arm panting, your eyes watery, and your lip swollen from the kiss. Kuro looked at you unblinkingly, looking unfazed by the kiss.
But there was a dark look to his eyes of unrestrained desire, and his hand clasped onto your body tightly.
“Come on, time to eat, princess…” his voice was hoarse,
You nuzzled into his neck, before saying,
“Kuro….you’re hard…”
Kuro blinked before nodding his head,
“I am, I'm always aroused near you after all…”
“Y-you’re not even going to hide it?” You ask tilting your head,
“Why will I hide my arousal for you? I will never hide from you…” Kuro kissed your head gently,
Your face flushed and in an irrational moment you said,
“Wanna fuck?” Your eyes gleaming brightly,
Kuro paused before looking at you,
“Are you sure about this?”
“Yep!” You said excitedly pulling his face down into another kiss,
Kuro's eyes widen, his eyes turning red as he loses all restraint he has. Grabbing your face almost immediately as he kissed you in a almost violent manner, before breaking apart and biting down on your neck. You can feel his fang digging into your skin drawing blood, as he lapped it up greedily.
You let out a gasp of pain as your hand buried into his hair, allowing him more access to your neck.
Kuro ripped your dress off of you with his claw, before gliding his hand up your body.
Your body arches in pain as his claw scratches up your body, your face flushing in excitement and pain. Letting out a breathy moan as you felt his hand digging into your ass, while he licked down your body.
With a animalistic growl he picked you up by your waist, hooking your leg onto his shoulder before burying his face into your cunt.
You gasped and wrapping your hand around his horn tightly, as you bucked your hip toward his face.
Letting out moan after moan, as Kuro slipped his tongue into your fold, thrusting into you roughly as you wrapped your leg around his head, your body shuddering from the pleasure.
Kuro panted as he felt your hand around his sensitive horns, burying his nose into your cunt as he sucked on your clit hungrily.
You felt your body spasming as you let out a loud mewl and cum onto Kuro's face. Not even stopping to wipe his face, Kuro began walking toward his room as he hold onto you tighter eating you out along the way.
Your eyes water as you feel Kuro hold your clit between his teeth, grinding down, determined ti make you cum again before reaching his room.
After some time, Kuro removed his head from between your thighs. Looking down at your flush and trembling body, Kuro slipped a finger inside you to see if you were ready.
You let out a loud groan as he did so, your body still sensitive from your several orgasms, yet your cunt still greedily slurped in his fingers. Desperate for something to fill you up again.
You looked down when you felt something hot and spiky on your legs, and your breath quickened as you saw what was exactly on your legs.
You were looking at two massive cocks and to make it worse, it was nowhere near what a human cock was supposed to look like. The cock was covered in spikes, ridges and you can see that the base of the cock was covered in scales.
You gulped before quietly asking,
“Is it too late to go eat food?”
Kuro looked at you tilting your face up, his voice coming out hoarse as he whispered into your ears,
“What do you think, princess?”
Your eyes widened as he suddenly shoved one of his cock into you without warning, knocking the air out of your lungs.
You tried to scream but couldn't as the pain flooded your mind only being able to let out gasps and sobs of pain.
“K-Kuro it hurts… haaa… hurts… i-im being split open…”
Kuro wrapped his tail around your leg tightly, leaving behind an imprint of his tail as he held onto your waist.
“You’re doing great, princess… you’re so fucking tiny, princess…” Kuro swore as he fucked into you ignoring your cries of discomfort and pain,
His mind was overtaken by the need to fuck you within an inch of your life, no longer caring about your comfort.
After all you did asked for this.
Crying you wrapped your arm around his neck desperately kissing his neck as he slammed into you.
“You have no idea how long I have waited for you… I love you (Y/N)…” he groaned as he took hold of one of your hands clasping it tightly, “You’re mine, darling… I waited too long for you… I’m never letting you go…”
As you hear him say that you nodded your head desperately, your entire mind fucked stupid as your body trembled in pleasure and pain.
“D-dont let me go… I-i love you… I love you so much… it hurts…” you cried out your hand clawing his back but not leaving behind mark,
“I won't, you’re mine!” Kuro snarled his eyes a brilliant red, so unlike the usual calm and collected way he is,
Your body clenched down and you let out a loud cry as you came around his cock.
Sensing your orgasm, Kuro kissed your ears and held down your body, before whispering,
“This is gonna hurt…”
Before you can ask what he means you feel it first. Your eyes widen and your body froze, as you begin to feel like you can't breathe.
Kuro was shoving his second cock in your cunt.
You couldn't even move your body to get away from the pain as your body completely shut down.
Your eyes begin to stream with tears as your belly begins to inflate from the two cocks that are pushing inside your body.
Letting out a strangled cry you hold onto Kuro’s hand tightly as you take several breaths trying to distract yourself from the violent pain in your lower body
Without waiting for you to adjust, Kuro begins moving inside you.
“…s-stop… ahhhh! K-kuro please!”
Kudos thrust his cocks inside you as he kissed your neck.
“You can take this, Princess… Look at how well you're taking in my cocks right now…. Your body is so tiny and tight I can hardly move…” Kuro splayed his fingers across your stomach and pushed down,
Saliva dripped down your chin as your body arched and your mind completely blinked out, overtaken by pain and a violent current of pleasure.
“Good girl…” Kuro purred out as he watch your body tremble on his cock,
Kuro's eyes closed in contentment as he felt your body wrapped tightly around both of his cocks, he wouldn't mind dying as long as he get to die fucking you.
He has waited too long for this moment.
You cried and begged as he thrust inside you. You can feel the scale and ridges on his cock grinding on all the pressure points inside you.
Sobbing you tighten your body around his cocks, hoping that maybe if you get Kuro to cum quickly this violent painful act of sexual desire could be over.
Kuro grunted as he felt your body suddenly tighten around his cock.
Looking at you Kuro smirked,
“Keep doing that, princess, it will only make it feel better for me…”
After several hours your brain was completely mushed.
You felt Kuro's thrust getting rougher and sloppier before with a roar he came inside you.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt your inside being overflowed by burning hot cum.
“H-hot… uurghhh.., b-burning, I'm melting… I'm melting, Kuro…”
“It's okay Princess, you’re doing beautifully…”
You nodded your head sobbing as your body kept twisting and convulsing under Kuro’s body.
By the time he was done, Kuro pulled himself out of you and you let out a whine as you felt the cum drip out of you.
Frowning, Kuro snapped his finger, a large ruby appearing in his hand.
Pushing you down and ignoring your struggling body Kuro begins shoving the ruby inside your cunt to plug you up.
“Stop! Kuro stop please…” you begged your body straining to get away,
“Will you rather I do this or will you rather I fucked you non-stop for two weeks Princess?”
Hearing this you let out a loud wail, finally realizing that maybe you have made a horrible mistake…
。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。+☆+。・゚・。
“You s-said if I let you plug me up, you will let me rest…” you sobbed out as Kuro hold you down, plowing into your ass,
“And i’m a fucking liar, princess…” Kuro said shamelessly as he hold your body to him, leaving behind a trail of kisses down your spine as he let out a sigh of contentment,
He has waited for you for so long…
He can't even remember how long he has waited for you…
So when you blew the whistle summoning him he was ecstatic.
Finally… finally he can have you.
And now you’re his.
You were his, both body and soul.
As for the people who hurt you and the prince you were supposed to marry?
Well, they deserve what happened to them…
92 notes · View notes
sirthisisa-wendys · 1 year
Note
It’s been a minute but I’m baaaaack (: I’m feeling especially angsty today… can I request a hurt/no comfort argument with Rindou over him not helping around the house after having a baby? (: I hope you have been well, Wendy!
Heeeeeeeyyyy love bug! I WILL DELIVER THIS FOR YOU
Hurt, no comfort coming right up!
Start Over: Rindou Haitani x Fem!Reader
wc: 978
tw: pure angst, not a nice Rindou Haitani here
masterlist
A sharp, hiccuping cry rises from your child's bedroom. You feel the hours of sleeplessness drag at you as you rise from the bed, leaving your sleeping husband to get his eight hours every fucking night.
"Shh, shh, shh," you urge your wailing child, bouncing them lightly to get them to go back to sleep. For a moment, you see shadows outside of the bedroom and feel a flood of relief at Rindou getting up, but then the door to your bedroom closes.
Your heart sinks.
Once you get your child to sleep, you wander back to your bedroom, feeling downtrodden and exhausted. Rindou is in bed, turned away from the door with his pillow firmly stuffed under his head. "Rin," you whisper, but your husband doesn't reply. You slink back under the covers and turn away from him, wishing in your dimming consciousness that he would just pitch in one time with the mundane chores around the house to lighten the load.
Rindou's never helped you with the baby, never helped with the laundry or cooking, never done anything to make parenthood easier. You might as well be a single parent.
When the morning comes, you're awake and helping make breakfast. Rindou is getting ready upstairs, but as you scramble his eggs, your thoughts are scrambled with them. The frying bacon represents your emotions and resentment as Rindou comes down the stairs, his eyes bleary and full of sleep.
"So tired..." he yawns, leaning on the kitchen table. Anger simmers beneath the surface as you watch him take a seat, his fingers rubbing at his face.
"Here." The plate lands in front of Rindou with a "clack" in front of him, and before he raises his fork, a scowl crawls across his face.
"What's with the attitude?" The eggs on the stove are now gone and on his plate, but your emotions are still simmering beneath the surface. When you don't answer, Rindou stands up. "Something you wanna talk about?"
"Yeah," you mutter, suddenly fully capable of conversation. "We need to talk about you and your contribution to the household."
"Excuse me?"
"You don't do shit," you gripe. "Sure, you work, but when you come home, you just put your feet up and watch me do all of the housework." Rindou frowns, standing from his seat and placing his hands in his suit pants pockets. He's listening, but you know it's only for show.
"And that's a problem because...?"
"I need help, Rin!" Rindou pushes up his glasses and crosses his arms over his chest. He leans back against the table, resting slightly on the edge. "I'm taking care of the baby, I'm cleaning the dishes, I'm cooking, I'm doing the laundry - and all you do is make deals and money and..." You smack your hand on your leg, looking around in confusion.
Rindou stares at you, his brow raised. "Are you done?"
Red clouds your vision, and you grip the handle of the frying pan as tightly as you can. "You've gotta be fucking kidding me," you grit out, and Rindou scoffs, rolling his eyes.
"If you think you're going to hit me with that pan, you're wrong."
"Get the fuck out of my house," you reply, keeping your tone low.
"Your house?" Rindou wonders, pushing himself off of the table. "With what money did you pay for this house?" You raise the dirty dish as he approaches you, preparing yourself for the onslaught of words and maybe even a blow or two. "You've got a lot of nerve complaining about what I don't do when all you've done is live off of my money in my house that my name is on."
"But you can't even keep your wife happy." You see something flash behind the round glasses on Rindou's face, but before he can raise his hands to do anything to you, he sighs and takes a few steps back. "What a fat lot of good your money does now, huh?"
"I'd like to see how well you'd live without my support," Rindou counters, pointing at you. "Your entire life is funded by what I do. And you have the audacity to say you're not happy. You should be grateful for my status. If it wasn't for me, you'd be sleeping with a fucking nobody and having his nobody-children."
Your grip on the frying pans wavers. Rindou catches the micro-movement with a sense of satisfaction.
"I'll see about hiring a maid," he offers smoothly, adjusting his tie and smoothing his purple hair back. "So you won't have to do any more work in the kitchen or in the laundry room." Your shoulders lower, but when Rindou turns around to grab his jacket, he swipes the plate onto the floor, making the porcelain shatter.
Upstairs, your baby begins to cry, and he lifts a finger, pointing to the ceiling.
"You raise the kid. You fuck me when I say so. You do what I say to do in my house. You live your life on your knees in service to me. And I'll think about forgiving this little... slip-up." Fear races down your spine as Rindou places his suit jacket on and steps over the mess of eggs and porcelain and bacon on the floor. "And you'll start by cleaning this floor. If it's not cleaned when I get home..." He turns back to you, his hand on the back door. "You won't get a maid. You won't get my money. You won't get a fucking thing from me except an eviction notice and the clothes on your back."
When Rindou shuts the door, you finally take the chance to look down at the mess on the floor. When you see the eggs and bacon scattered about, you can only do one thing: get on your hands and knees and start over.
237 notes · View notes
kikiwritesfanfic · 8 months
Text
The Lovebug Virus - Chapter 4: Exhausted
Yandere! Sun and Moon x Reader
Masterlist || Chapter 3 || Chapter 5
*****
"Get up, Meatball!" Kat yells playfully before hitting you with a pillow. You blink in confusion, lifting your head from the dining table and glaring at her. 
"I am up!" you assert sleepily. Your best friend scoffs as she walks around the table and into the kitchen, searching the fridge for something to eat. 
"Sure you are!" she calls from behind the refrigerator door. "Is that why your head was down on top of your textbook and your laptop screen is off?"
You groggily look at the spread on the dining table before you. Your textbook is in fact on the table open, and moments before acting as a pillow. Your homework rests a few inches next to it, unfinished. Slowly, memory starts to return to you. You were working on your project, right? No, you were trying to figure out what you would even do for your project. God, why are you so indecisive? 
"What time is it?" you mumble, looking around the table for your phone but not seeing it anywhere. 
"Four in the morning," Kat says, having settled on just having a glass of apple juice. She pulls an extra cup from the cabinet, fills it, and offers it to you. You happily accept, sipping on it to wet your dry mouth. 
"Wha- Then why are you up?" you ask.
"I just got back from my shift," she answers, plopping down in the seat next to yours. "So, what were you working on before you fell asleep?" She scans the work in front of you and then presses the spacebar on your laptop to bring the screen back on. Several tabs full of internet searches for some variation of "cool and easy things to build and code yourself" pop up, sending a warmth to your cheeks. 
"I-I was just trying to get ideas," you mutter, snatching your laptop away from her and closing out the window. 
"Oh, come on, I'm not that stupid, Chipmunk," she retorts. But you still place your laptop down on your lap and close it. Kat gives you a sympathetic look. "Do you want help?"
You sigh. "No. Yes? Maybe? I don't know," you whine, putting your head back down. "You already have your own project to worry about - I don't want you worrying about mine, too," you admit.
"Well, it's a good thing we're best friends, huh, otherwise this would be awkward," she says, chuckling and pulling your textbook out from under you. She flips back to the table of contents and scans the chapters. "So how's it been working at the daycare?" she questions, filling the silence with small talk.
"Oh, it's been pretty fun, actually," you confess sheepishly. 
"Shut. Up. You're actually enjoying working with a bunch of demon-spawn around?" she teases. You smack her arm playfully.
"Oh give me a break! I'm just trying to make the best of it!" you say defensively. "Besides, you're the one that got me that opening."
"I just asked my brother if there was anything that was available, you goober. I didn't know that the daycare was in need of another employee," she says. You giggle and pull your laptop back up on the table.
"To be honest, though, I really do like it. Sun and Moon are so nice to the kids, it's adorable watching them interact with them."
"Moon? Nice? Did they replace him or something from the last time I interacted with him?" she scoffs. You shoot a confused expression her way. 
"When do you interact with him? You're only a nighttime security guard, right?" 
She laughs. "He's quite literally the head of security, meatball," she says simply, which only makes you all the more enthralled by the animatronic's entire existence. 
"Oh my god, Kaitlyn," you say, tilting your head back and looking up at the ceiling. "This one animatronic has to have so much programming and coding go into it, and I can't even begin to process how it could all work so seamlessly."
Your best friend laughs again. "Yeah, I know. Do you see now why I want to be an engineer at that stupid place?" You nod enthusiastically, which only sends her into another fit of laughter. "You're such a nerd, you know that? Now look here," she says, placing your textbook back down on the table in front of you. She goes on to explain your error on your homework, and then spends another hour brainstorming ideas with you for your project. By the time the sun is rising, you still haven't settled on one, and your conversation deviates to Kat gushing about the same soft girl she was trying to impress at the party. Apparently, they exchanged numbers the other day and they've been texting pretty frequently since. After that conversation dulls, she retreats to her room to get some shuteye. You decide that's probably a good idea, since you still have to head into work for the afternoon shift later.
When you wake up, you feel gross and groggy. You don't normally take naps because they tend to actually make you feel worse rather than better. But you would rather deal with being slightly agitated than all out exhausted, so you get up and hop in the shower nonetheless.
By the time you emerge from your room in your work uniform, Kat is already up and re-energized. She is dancing around in the kitchen in a tanktop and her underwear, singing along to the song playing from your shared Echo Dot. You smile. She's always so happy.
Would be nice if you could actually take a note or two from her. Your smile fades and irritation replaces it as you walk into the kitchen and open the fridge to figure out something to eat before you have to leave. Kat continues singling loudly, bumping her hip into yours to try to get you to join in. You just shoot her a look that you hope translates to 'not right now', but she doesn't seem to care. 
"Come on, Stinker, dance with me!" she encourages, grabbing your hands and pulling you further into the kitchen. You audibly grunt, pulling your hands back away. 
"Kaitlyn, I'm really not in the mood," you warn, stomping back to the fridge. You pull out the carton of eggs and place it on the counter while Kat turns down the music. Great, now she's going to ask what's wrong and you don't even know the answer to that. Why are you such a horrible friend to her?
"Girl, are you okay?" she asks, stirring whatever is in the pot. "Oh, and if you want some, I'm making ramen," she adds.
"Just tired," you state, sighing and putting the eggs back where you had just pulled them. "And thanks," you mumble, walking out of the kitchen to flop onto the couch. You retrieve your phone from your pocket and scroll through your favorite app, not really consuming the media in your groggy state. A few minutes later, Kat comes out with a bowl, chopsticks, and a soup spoon. You gratefully accept them and place them on the coffee table. She walks back to the kitchen before reappearing with her own bowl and joins you on the couch.
"Are you sure you're just tired?" she asks, stirring the noodles around with her chopsticks. You make a quiet noise of annoyance before responding.
"I really don't know, and I don't want to talk about it," you reply curtly, and she seems to take the hint. She grabs the remote and turns on the TV, putting on one of her favorite television dramas. You zone out as you take a bite of the ramen, knowing that you have to eat, even if you don't want to.
You're doing it again, your intrusive thoughts begin in your head once more. You're pushing her away. She probably doesn't even like you, and only puts up with you because you pay the utilities. But that also means you're replaceable, just like everything else in the world.
 You decide you're done eating after only a few bites and check your phone. There's still an hour and a half before your shift starts, but you'd rather just clock in early than stay and deal with the awkwardness you caused with Kat. You clear your spot, head back to your room to put on your shoes, and then grab your backpack and head out. Your best friend gives you a wave as you walk out the front door, and you force yourself to wave back to her before disappearing.
You fill the silence of your car ride with your favorite artist, trying to put yourself in a better mood before work. You don't want to snap at the kids and get yourself fired. But even your favorite song doesn't seem to pull you from your groggy irritation. 
By the time you're walking into the daycare from the employee entrance, you've worked yourself up so much that you contemplate just faking being sick to go back home. But you know you can't do that at such a late notice, so you trudge over to the security desk to clock in anyways. 
*****
Someone is clocking in, Sun says cautiously from inside of his and Moon's shared head. Moon pays his brother no mind as he continues to soothe one of the younger toddlers. She had been stirring in her sleep from a nightmare, so he tucked her back into the blanket she had kicked off and rubbed soothing circles on her back. "It's probably our little starlight," he whispers back, keeping his voice low so as to not disturb the sleeping children. 
She's not supposed to work for another 45 minutes though. Moon's head perks up at this new piece of information, his eyes shifting to crimson as he stands from his seated position. He calls his wire down and allows it to pull him up into the air, scanning the area by the security desk to figure out who could possibly be impeding on naptime. His head shifts to the side as he spots you, taking in your slouched shoulders and tired expression.
Jeez, it doesn't look like she got any sleep, Sun says. Moon stalks over to you as you continue to attempt to clock in, messing up your employee code repeatedly in your sleepy state. He spins his body around so that he now hangs upside down, reading your body temperature and heart rate as he lowers himself down to you slowly. You look up from the monitor as the red glow from his eyes encompasses your surroundings.
"Hi, Moon," you mumble, bringing your hand to your eye and rubbing it rather aggressively.
"You're tired," Moon states bluntly. You give him an annoyed look before going back to your task at hand - trying to remember your damn employee code. 
"I'm fine," you quip, inputting the code incorrectly yet again. Moon lists your number out for you, which only irks you further as you stubbornly put in the numbers as he says them. It works (obviously), and you finish clocking in while Moon continues to hang from his position above the desk.
"You need sleep," he reiterates. You huff, slamming your hands down on the desk. 
"I said I'm fine," you assure him, but he doesn't let up as you make your way over to the sleeping children. 
She should take a nap, Sun suggests. I can uh, make sure the camera is on a loop so the higher ups don't know. Moon considers the idea. There is still just over an hour before naptime is over anyways, and you would benefit from the extra downtime. Do it, he tells his brother. And turn the temperature down in the daycare as well, he adds, watching as you settle down in the same spot the two of you had designated as your naptime hangout. He walks over to the supply closet and retrieves one of the spare blankets and a pillow. When he re-emerges with the items in hand, you glare at him.
"Moon, if I have to say one more time that I'm fine, I'm going to lose it," you warn, rolling your eyes. 
"I'm just bringing over the blanket because it's cold in here," he says, smirking mischievously. You narrow your eyes at him, but take the blanket anyways as he takes his seat next to you, leaning up against the play structure like usual. She knows we're up to something, Sun says. Maybe we should just leave her be. Moon looks over at you as you pull your phone out. Sun scoffs, and if Moon could see him, he knows his brother would probably be crossing his arms in disappointment. She knows it's strictly against daycare policy to use mobile devices while on the clock! 
Moon rolls his eyes, placing his hands up behind his head as he glances back out to the sleeping children. He hears you yawn beside him, slouching further as you get comfy under the blanket. He eyes your phone screen curiously, zooming in as a text comes in. He sees that it's from Kat, and that she's reminding you to have a good day at work. Their friendship is adorable, Sun says. 
After another yawn, you subconsciously slide closer towards Moon. He does his best to hold back a scoff, instead opting for chuckling inside his shared consciousness. 'I'm fine' my ass, he thinks, to which Sun giggles at. Moon decides to raise his body temperature to be more inviting and cozy, and he smiles as you begin to nod off. Your raised arm holding your phone starts to droop lower, lower, until Moon reaches out and slips it from your fingers. He places the pillow into his lap and ever so gently guides your sleeping body down so that your head rests on top of it. 
She's so adorable! Sun says, and Moon can't help but agree silently. He wonders why you hadn't gotten enough sleep to begin with though. Maybe she's struggling with schoolwork? Sun suggests. If that's the case, why were you staying up so late to finish it to begin with? Was school becoming too much for you? You let out a little sigh as your body finally completely succumbs to sleep, pulling Moon from his thoughts. He brushes a strand of your hair from your face and leans back against the play structure again. 
All that matters now is that you're resting. Whatever happened to cause the lack of it could be dealt with later.
*****
You groan, shoving away the hand that shakes your shoulder gently. You hear your name being called delicately, but it sounds so far away, your mind doesn't think you should be very concerned about it. However, it grows louder and the hand continues to pester you, so you slowly slip back to consciousness. 
When you open your eyes, you find yourself looking up at the distant ceiling of the Pizzaplex's daycare instead of your room. Confusion clouds your brain as you try to piece together how you could possibly be here instead of home. You don't remember getting here, and you really don't remember falling asleep. 
"Hey, Starlight. Did you have a good nap?" Moon asks gently. Suddenly, you realize that your head is resting in his lap, and you sit up quickly, embarrassment warming your cheeks. 
"I-I'm so sorry," you say, looking around at the children that still sleep soundly over in the naptime area. Moon laughs quietly. 
"Sorry for what?" he asks curiously. You can't seem to find the words as your cheeks burn deeper, muttering out incoherent syllables. "Hey, hey, you're fine," he says, lifting his hands to grasp yours. He wears a sympathetic expression. "I'm just glad you got some more sleep. You clearly needed it."
You try to calm your racing heart as you feel a panic attack trying to form. Not now, why am I even panicking? Nothing is happening. I just fell asleep, and nobody is mad. Right?
"Starlight," Moon says firmly, forcing you from your thoughts as you lock eyes with him. He squeezes your hands, which helps in grounding you. "Your heart rate is worryingly high. Did I startle you from your sleep?" You shake your head, feeling small under his gaze. Stupid. Idiot. You're going to get fired now. "Okay, then whatever it is, you're okay. Just look at me, okay?"
"I-I shouldn't have fallen asleep," you mutter, trying to shove down the increasing want to cry. "I-I'm so sorry, I don't know how that happened. I just- I was- God, I'm so stupid," you continue, panic continuing to rise in your chest. You start to feel like you can't breathe, so you pull your hands away and dig your nails into your palms. Calm down, calm down, calm down, you repeat to yourself.
Moon says your name again, the worry in his face starting to turn to panic. You turn away from him, embarrassed enough by the situation. "I-I'm okay, I just... I need a second. But it's fine, I'm used to dealing with this on my own."
You feel a hand rub cold circles on your back. It breaks your hyperfixation on your panic, grounding you better than anything ever has before. You turn back towards the blue animatronic, feeling your ragged breaths return back to normal. "Th-Thank you," you stutter, looking down at your lap. "I didn't know you were equipped with something to deal with panic attacks."
"Honestly, neither did I," he admits, letting his hand fall from your back as you turn back around to face him. "Naptime is almost over."
"Okay," you practically whisper. 
"Sun is offering to take over waking up the children and getting them settled with snack so you can have a moment." You look up at him, gratefulness written all over you face. "You just have to turn the lights on manually behind the security desk."
You do exactly as Moon says, making your way over to the security desk and flipping the lights on about five minutes earlier than usual. Sun appears from behind the play structure, smiling wide as the children begin to stir from the sudden change in lighting. You sit down in one of the office chairs and decide to check on the status of the snacks arriving. The computer says they're on the way. You smile slightly as you read what the snack is - graham crackers and applesauce. Nostalgia pulls at your mind as you remember sitting in the parking lot behind the Freddy Fazbear Pizzeria with your friends, eating the same things. That was before, when things had been so simple and happy. Honestly, it might be the last memory you have before everything changed...
The computer makes a gentle chime, signaling that the snacks have arrived and pulling you from your reverie. You look up from the monitor and see Sun leading the kids back to the supply closet with their mats and blankets folded (to the best of their little hands' abilities), so you decide to retrieve the snacks and set them up at the table. By the time that Sun brings the children back to sit down, you are already back at the desk, looking through the computer in your boredom to try to keep your mind from wandering too deeply into unwanted thoughts. 
After all of the children are seated and snacking happily, Sun resumes his usual position of leaning his elbows on the edge of the desk with his head in his hands. "Heya Sunbite," he says softly. You can't recall a time that he actually spoke at such a gentle level, so you give him a surprised look as you lock eyes with him. 
"Yeah?" 
"If you want, you can spend the rest of the shift in the pillow fort," he suggests, smiling wide at you.
"The pillow fort?" 
"Yeah! It's the little circus tent on the far side of the daycare. We call it the pillow fort because inside there's lots of comfy pillows and stuffies. It's where any of the kids are allowed to go to decompress, calm down, or even just relax because the playground is too much for them. We have a few regulars in there, but they really love when someone reads them stories," he finishes. With the look that he's giving you, you would assume that he would bat his eyelashes if he had any.
Still, you smile at him. "I'd really like that, Sunny. Thank you," you say, standing from the office chair and stretching. "Are you sure you don't need my help with the rest of the children?" you ask as you watch the particularly rowdy ones begin to goof off with their applesauce. Sun reassures you before heading back over to the snack tables to reprimand the troublemakers. 
Just as Sun described, the 'pillow fort' is more than comfy. There are more pillows in there than children in the daycare, and it's filled with Fazbear themed plushies. You picked a spot opposite of the entrance, and not long after you settled in, Evelyn (who had begun to take a liking to you since you showed up) joined you, typical Moon plushy in hand. After a while, several more children enter the pillow fort, and you decide you feel up for reading a story, so you send one of them to pick out a book for you. 
You spend the last few hours of your shift just enjoying the quieter children and the peace it seems to bring you. They ask you questions timidly at first, but by the time the end of the daycare day rolls around, they seem to be just fine with spilling their entire life stories to you. Little Evelyn stayed right by your side all the way up until her mom showed up, tearing up even then because she didn't want to leave. You promised her that you would be here tomorrow, and that seemed to calm her down. 
Then before you know it, the last few children's parents show up all at the same time, and the daycare is empty besides you and Sun. You turn to him and begin to apologize again, feeling terrible for having to leave him with the rest of the children for the remainder of the day.
"Sunbite, I promise you it's okay. It's quite literally what I was made for," he assures you for the millionth time as you two sanitize the playing blocks. He gives you a smile before continuing on with the task at hand. "We do want to ask, though. Why were you so tired today?"
You sigh as you place the last sanitized block back in its colorful basket. "I might've gotten like only two and half hours total of sleep last night?" you admit. Sun brings his hands to his face in disbelief.
"Our little sunflower is sleep deprived all right, Moon," he says. You surprisingly find yourself smiling. Even despite the fact that you were confused about how Moon even managed to get you to fall asleep so easily, you are grateful that you were able to get in that extra hour of shuteye.  
"Thank you, by the way. Both of you," you say as the two of you make your way up to the security desk. Sun seems to pause in his tracks though at your words, so you turn back to face him. 
"For what?" he asks.
"For letting me sleep, helping with my panic attack, and then letting me basically relax for the remainder of my shift. You didn't have to do that but you did anyway. I just want you to know that I appreciate it." You look down at your hands and the light red grooves from you digging your nails into them earlier. "I'm so used to dealing with things on my own, sometimes I guess I'm too afraid to ask for help."
Sun steps towards you and places your hands into his. Just like when you hugged him the first time, you are surprised to find that they are warm. You look up at him and he smiles down at you. "Well, you're not alone anymore, Sunflower. If you ever need help with anything, you can ask us! We were both really worried about you." 
For some odd reason, you feel your heart flutter in your chest. Out of miniature panic, you pull your hands from his and rush around the desk to the computer so you can clock out. You hide your face (and evidently your blush) behind the computer monitor as Sun once again takes his usual position in front of the desk.
"You know, you really should try to get at least eight hours of sleep every night, though. Getting less than that can result in up to 50% more feelings of irritability, loss of focus, overwhelming anxiety, or increased stress!"
You find yourself rolling your eyes. "Thanks, Sun," you say sarcastically.
*****
A/N: Awwww looks like Y/N is catching feelingssssss!!!!! Poor baby doesn't have anyone to just take care of her. Totally not projecting in this at alllll whaaat???
Anyways, Kat, Sun, and Moon are all so thoughtful!! You're surrounded by love! Absolutely everything is going well so far! What do you think is going to happen next? I'm actually a bit curious if anyone has any theories...
Stay hydrated and  try to get enough sleep, my lovelies~
Taglist: @senyahgirl @rose-blot
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jakes3resin · 30 days
Text
So I'm watching episode 1 of MOTA again, and all I can think about is what if Bucky wasn't there when the boys land. What if he crashed on one of the missions he was a tag along? What if Buck landed in England and didn't see his John there waiting for him?
Just imagine you're the other crews and personnel at the base. You've just had a new arrival of boys ready to run missions while you're still recovering from the last one that saw more planes leave than came back. How do you respond when one of the newly arrived Majors asks where Major Egan is? How do you say sorry sir but he went down yesterday without sounding callous? How do you react when that Major nearly falls to his knees in front of you?
What do you do when your worst nightmare comes to pass? What do you feel when you let half of your soul slip away like a thief in the night?
How do you breathe when it's your fault?
John's not there when Buck steps onto English soil.
Something's wrong, a sharp voice whispers into his ear. Something's changed. Find him.
There's no one to ask.
The ground crews run to secure their plane, running diagnostics and checking what they have to work with. A lieutenant directs them to a truck, saying they'll be taken to their assigned quarters.
There's no time to stop and ask. No one will stop and let him ask at least. They're dropped at their assigned huts and barely given enough time to drop their stuff off before they're shuffled off again.
Meeting after meeting keeps them busy. Huglin introduces himself and leaves just as quickly. A British Colonel steps up to welcome them. Apparently, they need to be welcomed by every higher up this base has before they can lay down or eat. Every higher up except the Air Exec.
Buck tries to ask, but no one stops long enough to answer him. Apparently, they're planning the next bombing mission already, and all hands are on deck.
Buck wonders if that's where John is.
They're sent back to their huts and told dinner gets served at exactly 6 o'clock sharp. The rest of the evening is their's as they're not on rotation just yet. Buck leads the boys in.
"Are you Major Cleven, sir?"
Buck turns and finds a short curly haired boy staring at him. Kid barely looks eighteen, but there's a tired look to him that doesn't match. He's dressed in the typical ground crew's overalls holding a bike steady in each hand. There's a stripe of grease across his cheek.
"Depends whose asking," Buck waves the other boys into the building. They're all exhausted and should get some rest before dinner. They trail past, grumbling about meetings after being stuck in a Fort all day. All of them staring between Buck, the mechanic, and the bikes.
"Sergeant Ken Lemmons, sir," The now named boy smiles at him, cherubic and sweet. "I'd shake your hand, but I need them to keep these steady you see."
"Nice to meet you." Buck nods staring down at the bikes. "How can I help you?"
Ken pauses, eyes wide and full of some emotion Buck can't place. He doesn't like it.
"Well, I," Ken bites his lip and drops his gaze. "I thought I'd deliver these to you. For Major Egan, sir."
"John sent you?"
Relief flows through him. John's fine. He's just running late or stuck somewhere, and he sent someone to make sure Buck didn't feel forgotten. He'd roll up soon with a bright smile to talk Buck's ear off about what idiotic, mind-numbing task kept him from Buck's side. Life could finally get back to normal with them.
Ken shakes his head. Buck tilts his.
"John didn't send you?"
"No sir." Ken stares up at Buck. "He was just so excited to give you these that it didn't feel right not getting them to you somehow. Can't get anywhere on base without one, and he won them for you."
"Right," Buck glanced down at the bikes, confusion growing. "Would you mind telling me where Major Egan is, if he didn't send you?"
"No one's told you."
It's not a question. Not with that level of devastation attached. Ken's eyes look destroyed, startlingly so. Heart jumping, Buck nearly growls.
"Tell me what, Sergeant?"
"Major Egan didn't come back from a mission yesterday. He, well, uh, he crashed, sir."
The earth drops out from underneath him. He's freefalling.
Buck tries to breathe. He'd told John not to die on him before he got over here, but it'd been light-hearted. He never truly thought John would die, never allowed himself to think it for fearing of jinxing John.
I told you, the voice from before whispers. You didn't notice.
He knew something was wrong when John didn't meet them on the runway. He should have known then. John had been so excited to see him, had talked about all of the things they'd do together once Buck flew over. Nothing would have kept him from seeing Buck.
"Where?" Buck manages out. He needs to know. Needs to know so that he can think. He needs facts and data, something logical. So that his brain will work. His heart feels slashed open from just that word. Betrayed by his brain, his heart rebels even thinking those words to be true.
"Sorry sir, there's no record of where his plane went down."
No record? How could there be no record? That was the navigator's job! How could they not know where John went down? How could they not see it?
Worse, how could Buck not feel it? How did he go about his day yesterday unaware that the other half of his soul was gone? Fell from the sky, and Buck didn't do a damn thing! Had lived through that moment none the wiser! He'd hadn't even paused.
"Buck?" Benny's voice breaks through his downward spiral, and Buck has to push through it. Has to swallow his grief and hold back his tears because he has men to take care of. He has a job to do.
"Sorry boys," Buck turns around face now carefully wiped blank. Benny watches him, and the rest of the crew gathers round the doorway watching. They look worried. Some of them glance behind him at Ken. The one man who'd finally answered Buck. The one man Buck never wanted to see again.
John's dead.
Buck knows he has to say the words, has to tell them what's going on, and then he has to find the other crews and tell them because that's his job. He has to find Curt and Jack. A laundry list of people who need to know. Then he has to write John's mother and sisters. That's his punishment now. He let Bucky fly alone. He has to do this. He has to say the words. But he can't. Because once he says them, it's real. John's gone, and Buck spoke it into the universe. Buck made it true.
"Bit of a hold up on our welcoming committee?" Benny asks. Buck can hear the question he's really asking. Where's Bucky? All of the waiting faces scream it at him.
I don't know! He wants to scream. He's gone! Gone where I can't follow when he promised not to!
"Yeah," Buck says, voice soft. "You could say that."
He clears his throat.
"The sergeant here..."
Fuck, Buck's a coward. The words eat at his insides, gnawing at his heart, but he can't say them. Can't get them up his throat and out his mouth.
"I've got to head in, more debriefs." Buck's heart races. The faces around him nod in understanding. "I'll find you boys after."
The men fall out talking amongst themselves as they head back to their bunks, but Benny stays. Buck tries to breathe. Ken stands silently next to him still holding on to those damned bikes.
"Where's Bucky?" Benny asks before Buck can escape. Buck clenches his jaw. Benny's eyebrow ticks up.
"Something happen?" Meatball runs up to them, panting and happy to see Buck. John will never get to meet him.
"You could say that." Buck manages. He reaches down to run a hand over Meatball's head. John had loved it when Buck played with his hair. The dog bounces around, playfully nipping at Buck's hand.
"What else could I say about it?"
"There was a mission." Buck starts. Tries to speak but shuts his mouth a few times. Benny stares at him. Ken shuffles behind him.
"John," Gale pauses. "Bucky didn't make it back."
"Shit," Benny curses, and Gale stares down at Meatball. His hand rests just behind his ears. The dog tilts his head at him, wondering why he stopped. Bucky used to do that too, whenever he wanted Gale to do something with him.
"Where'd he go down?"
"No record."
"Shit," Benny breathes out. Gale bites his tongue.
"Sir, I really am sorry." Ken's voice is soft. "I thought everyone knew to tell you. They were supposed to tell you."
But they didn't! Gale wants to scream. They didn't, and now I'm alone!
"Thanks for telling us, you can leave those there." Benny says gesturing to the bikes.
"Yes, sir."
Ken slowly turns away with another quiet apology that Gale doesn't acknowledge.
Rage boils up within him. Rage at Ken for telling him. Rage at the crew for allowing Bucky onto their doomed mission. Rage at the Germans for starting the stupid fucking war. Rage at every person who had a hand in taking Bucky away.
Rage at Bucky for leaving him.
It feels hollow to be so angry at Bucky. It's not his fault, but Gale is angry at him. They were a pair, Bucky had made sure of that the day he named Gale.
He's alone now.
He doesn't know how to do it. It's been torture these past few weeks with Bucky in England. The only thing that had gotten him to today was knowing the separation was temporary. How was he supposed to last the rest of his life?
"I'll tell the others," Gale turned to Benny. "Would you mind telling the boys in there?"
"Sure, Buck," Benny nods, staring at him. Gale knows the other won't turn away until Gale leaves, so he does. He has to. He has to turn away and start moving. Because if he lets himself stop now, he doesn't think he'll ever be able to move out of that rage. He'll sink into it, and that's not who he wants to be. That's not the man Bucky loved. He need to keep going. For Bucky.
Gale heads out. He walks without any place in mind. He doesn't know where Curt or Jack are quartered, doesn't even know who he could ask. He simply walks through the base.
A crowd draws his eye, and despite himself, Gale wanders towards it.
Men rush into a hut not to dissimilar to the one Gale had just walked away from. A few of them hold clipboards calling out names, and as Gale watches, trunks matching those names get carried out.
"Excuse me? Are you assigned to these barracks?" A private walks up to him, clipboard clasped to his chest.
"Pardon?" Gale walks closer. He scans the rows and rows out trunks as they're loaded onto a truck.
"Are these your quarters, Major...?
"Major Gale Cleven. No. What are these?" Gale runs his hand along the nearest trunk.
"Trunks to be sent home, sir." One of the privates turns to him. "We have to move them out so the new arrivals can move in."
That's why they were stuck in useless meetings all afternoon, Gale suddenly realizes. They'd had to move the missing men's belongings out. The knowledge makes him ill.
"Where do you take them?" Stomach rolling as he asks, Gale projects an air of stoic calm.
"Down there," The private points down the road. "It's another empty bunkhouse, but it's better than storing them in the open sir."
"Right," Gale murmurs, mind already racing. "Back to it boys."
Gale walks, purposeful this time, down the road. If all of the trunks were being moved now, maybe... maybe Bucky's was there. It wouldn't be much, wouldn't be him, but it'd be enough, just enough to get him through today.
No one stops Gale as he walks into the bunkhouse. In fact most of the boys avoid his gaze as if he were a ghost walking among them. Which maybe he's as close a man can get. Half his soul is gone. Doesn't that make a man a ghost? Can't he qualify?
Bucky's trunk is tucked in a back corner. His must have been one of the first to be cleared out.
Gale kneels beside. He'd never been too religious, but this feels near enough to a church that Gale barely dares to breathe.
The trunks sits there bathed in the late afternoon light streaming through the windows. Gale reaches out his hand. The metal is cold to the touch. The paint spelling out Bucky's name is a soft white. There's a scratch across the top, and scuff marks along the bottom. Gale traces those. They're signs of life. Signs that Bucky once lived and breathed dragging this trunk along behind him.
Gale can't open the trunk. He thought he could, thought it'd help him, but he was wrong. This is worse. Sitting here in this graveyard of lost men, Gale feels tears burning at his eyes that he can't hold back anymore.
His John is gone. Bucky is dead, and all that's left is this trunk. This trunk and Gale.
"Can't believe you boys moved my fucking trunk! Talk about burying a man before he's dead!"
Gale's heart stops, and he turns tears trailing down his cheek. Barely daring to hope, he stares at the entrance.
"Sir, we were informed that we needed to move these trunks. Our apologies for not double-checking!"
"Yeah, yeah. Hey, any of you guys hear if the 100th flew in yet?"
Gale scarcely dares to breathe.
"Yes, sir! They flew in three hours ago."
The voices grow closer. Gale turns, still on his knees next to Bucky's trunk. Any second they'll walk in. Any second Gale's hopes will be dashed, and he'll return to a world where his John, the boys' Bucky is dead. He'll remain a Gale with no one else's name attached to him.
Any second.
The moment passes. The door opens. Light bleeds into the room, and Buck hadn't known how dark it had been before then.
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scienceoftheidiot · 16 days
Text
My body : yeah so since you're exhausted and overwhelmed by the slightest thing and trying not to explode and cry at work and you've already had a number of close calls this week
Me : yeah ?
My body : and you still have two full days of work where you will have to handle extremely excited and badly behaved 14yo kids of whom many hate you and will make things worse if they see you look weak
Me : ... yeah?
My body : yeah I've decided you don't need to sleep that much. Also when you did I gave you nightmares. Don't thank me it's on me. Have a nice day.
.
In case you want to know how I'm doing and why I feel like crying and puking at 6:30 am 👍🏻
But I can't say shit because I'm on holidays on Friday evening
Like yeah. I am.
I still have to survive these two days and I'm not sure I can. But yeah I can't even say that because I am on holidays on Friday so I should shut my mouth.
If I cry at work I'm FINISHED but this is something people don't understand
Anyway
Wish me luck then, I'll try to put on the automatic pilot and shut my brain off all day.
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whattraintracks · 1 month
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22. Puzzling - TMNT 2012
Don't worry, guys, that wasn't supposed to happen.
When the bit of Kraang tech he's examining (read: poking randomly in the hopes that something will happen) explodes, Donatello's not sure if he or Raphael shrieks louder. He thinks it's Raph. Which would be way funnier under different circumstances.
He blinks against sooty particulates. "Huh, well, that wasn't supposed to happen."
He's amid a cloud of unexpectedly thick, slightly pink smoke. Which is on-brand but frankly annoying. He waves at the air in a vain attempt to disperse it. Maybe he can move this operation to the kitchen, work under the exhaust hood. He should probably install one in here. He gives up flailing his arms, and backs away from the desk. Step one to solving any problem is getting some distance. Step two is—oh, that's weird. The cloud doesn't seem to have moved since the initial explosion. What kind of particles are these? He hasn't seen Kraang tech do this before.
The moment he remembers Raph is also the moment he trips over him. With a yelp, he hits the ground. Hard. Raph giggles. Rude. He's going to have at least two bruises tomorrow. And his scream was definitely louder than Raph's, so he's lost any right to make fun.
"Dude," Donnie groans, pushing to his feet. At least he's away from the Kraang smoke, "Why'd you trip me?"
"I don't know," comes the high-pitched reply, "Why're you so big?"
By the time his eyes clear, he's pretty sure it's a genuine question, not an insult about his height. It makes more sense once he looks down, down, down to find Raph miniaturised.
Donnie throws his hands to his head. "That wasn't supposed to happen, either!" Raph just giggles again.
"Leo!"
As far as they can tell, based on Raph's appearance and memories, he's about five. Donnie can't even remember being that young. Which he counts as a good thing because kids are weird. Or maybe that's just mutant turtle kids. He doesn't have experience with normal children to establish a baseline. Leo and Sensei do, though, and they seem unperturbed by Raph's behavior. Even Mikey takes the whole thing in stride. He is, in fact, absolutely thrilled and oscillates between gathering blackmail material and doing whatever Raph asks.
Donnie will admit he's having trouble making sense of it all. First, and he thinks he’s mentioned this, that was not supposed to happen. He can't figure out how a broken Kraang tech part without any detectable energy source could have caused something like this. Which naturally leads to the question of how he's meant to fix it. Raph has no idea what happened, either, so he's no help. Worse, he just might be the most confusing being Donnie has ever met. Take yesterday, for example.
He's not sure what time it is when he stumbles out of the lab for breakfast, so it might not technically be in the range of the day at which it is appropriate to call a meal breakfast. His brain is too full of viscous pink Kraang smoke to care. It must be some mealtime because everyone but Master Splinter is in the kitchen when he arrives. Leo is at the island supervising Raph and Mikey's mess-making by the stove.
Raph perks up, "Hey Donnie! I wanna tell you a question."
"Ask nicely, Raph," Leo reminds, hiding a smile behind the rim of his tea cup.
"Please, I wanna tell you a question." He barrels on, "How do you open your labrador?”
Open his what? Donnie stares at the space above Raph's head, trying to parse the question until a nudge from Leo resets his brain. "Say what?"
"Your labrador!" He flings his arms out, nearly knocking himself to the floor. Mikey catches the lip of his shell just in time.
“What Labrador? Raph, I don't have a—”
“Yeah, you do!” He's angry of a sudden. Of course, he is. But it's weird. It's not the first time Donnie's made him mad since the incident, but he's never gotten in anyone's face or stormed off with a huff. He just screeches until he gets whatever it is that he wants. It's Raph's anger, but it's not. “It’s how you get to the place you do all your smart stuff!"
Mikey swoops in, crouching to squeeze Raph gently, then translates, “He means the door to your lab, bro.”
“The door? Oh. Why would—?" Donnie sighs heavily, sinking into the stool next to Leo. “Raph, that’s the lab door,” he enunciates, “Not a Labrador. A Labrador is a dog breed."
Just like that, Raph's face unscrunches into something thoughtful. “So it’s not a labrador?”
Well, at least the exasperation is familiar. "I literally just said that. It’s a normal door.” Leo clicks at him warningly. Come on, what is he supposed to do here? Seriously, this feels surreal. Maybe this whole dialogue is a dream, and he's hunched over his desk right now. He straightens his shell to test for any worse-than-usual aching.
“Okay," Raph says. Then he turns around. Just like that. As if the entire conversation never happened. Never mind his original question or whatever he was trying to ask. He makes no sense, literally none at all.
But, you know what, fine. Donnie has to eat anyway so he can go back to the "place where he does all his smart stuff" or whatever. So he can figure out how to get his actual brother back, who at least makes sense most of the time.
Leo finishes his tea, returning Raph's enthusiastic wave goodbye, and then there are three. Mikey and Raph finally settle down to eat whatever noxious concoction they've whipped up as Donnie cleans his dishes. Freshly fed, his brain refills with extradimensional smoke and engineering.
"Well, that's boring!"
He fumbles with his mug at the sudden shout. A glance over his shoulder finds Raph, who had been eating quietly, now glaring at him.
“You should name that boring normal door Labrador so we can just call it that anyway," he says firmly.
He's not sure why he tries to ask, “Why would I—”
“Or or!" And it's like a switch again, anger suddenly dissipating. "We could name it something cooler! Like Thundoor from Crognard!”
“Thundarr,” He corrects. It's too late, Mikey's joins in.
“That’s awesome, little dude!" Mikey laughs buoyantly. "We should name all the furniture!”
“Yeah!”
And Donnie is so tired and so lost, and Raph is too much and too little of his brother at the same time it’s not even funny anymore. He doesn't think it ever was.
“Come one, Dee!" Mikey hoists Raph onto his shoulders, naturally content to ignore the messy kitchen. "Help Raphie and I name everything in the lair!”
Donnie tries to shake his head as Raph reaches for him. “Can you! Can you, please? Just for a little bit, please, Donnie, please?” Oh, now he recalls his manners.
"No, Raph." He bangs his mug onto the drying rack, ignoring Mikey's frown. "I don't have time for your nonsense questions and weird games. I'm trying to fix you."
It's not until he slams closed the lab door that the words trailing after his dramatic exit finally click. A puzzled sort of muttering from Raph: "Fix me? But I’m not broken."
So maybe he got a little too worked up, as tired as he was. But he's better now! He's eaten. He's slept five hours. He's determined to sit here until he cracks this thing.
And then someone bangs on the door.
He drops his head with a groan. How is he supposed to heroically solve all of their problems in these conditions? “Who is it, and what do you want," he shouts into the pages of his notebook.
"Once a second!"
One second, he mouths to himself. He listens to Raph struggle with the door for a lot of seconds and hopes he'll give up. He probably won't. Donnie better unlock it before he hurts himself. Or worse, starts screaming. Only because Leo would find some way to blame Donnie for it.
He shoves the door open, not at all irritated. Or vindicated either, when Raph falls on his shell and his sai skitter across the floor. Wait. “I thought Sensei took those out of your—Hey!”
Five-year-old Raph may not be much of a ninja but he is pretty slippery. He scrambles under Donnie's arm and launches into the rolling desk chair.
“Raphael." He glowers, summoning his inner Leo, "You are not allowed in the lab—”
“Without you,” he recites, spinning the chair so Donnie only catches glimpses of his cheeky smile. “But you’re here too! So it’s okay.”
It most definitely is not. Raph has no understanding of lab safety right now, so if Raph stays in here, then Donnie will have to keep an eye on him, and if Donnie has to watch Raph, then he can't focus on his work. He does not want Raph in here, and he says so.
“Donnie, I'll be so so so good. Please!” Oh, Mikey absolutely taught him how to do that with his eyes. Not cool, Mike.
“Raph," Donnie faux whines back. "I need to work. Go play with Leo or Mikey."
"Ugh," Raph flops onto his shell, letting his head and limbs hang. “But Sensei and Leo are medating, and Mikey’s with Red."
“Meditating," he corrects, "And I know you know her name is April.”
“Casey calls her Red.”
“Yeah, well, Casey’s a—” Raph looks at him with wide, innocent eyes. A promise on his face that anything Donnie says will be repeated. "It’s polite to call people by their name."
Raph hums, continuing to spin idly, “But I don't call you Donatello, I call you Donnie. And you call me Raph or sometimes Fai.”
Not a bad point. But what was that second thing? Fai? Oh. His brain retrieves fuzzy, forgotten memories. That's right. When they were both little, that had been his nickname for Raph. Just between the two of them. He can't remember when he stopped using it.
“Right," he says slowly. "But those are nicknames. They're a shorter version of your name.”
“Oh, okay.” Then Raph rolls out of the chair, clunking to the ground shell first, and wanders away to explore the lab.
Donnie retakes the seat, resigning himself to further interruptions. Part of his brain is devoted to thinking up better excuses in case this is one of those conversations Raph returns to without warning. The rest of his awareness is on Raph as he pokes and prods at books and equipment and even poor Timothy. It takes the better part of a half hour for him to realise he's still sitting at his desk not moving a muscle.
He growls, gripping his head. Raph is on him in an instant. "What's wrong? Can I help? Do you need a book? Do you want one of mine? I can get Leo! Or Sensei, or—"
"No," Donnie snaps.
He gapes as Raph's beak trembles and his eyes fill with tears. "You're crying. Why are you crying? Please stop crying." He slides to the floor next to Raph, "I'm sorry? It's just. I'm trying to focus! I need to fix you, but I don't—"
“I don’t want you to fix me!” He shouts, scrubbing his face and hiccupping. “I just want to play! Why won’t you play with me anymore?"
“Raph, I," Donnie looks down at his hands, "I don’t have time,” he finishes lamely.
“Yes, you do! You’re just being mean!” He runs out of the lab. Probably to someone who actually understands him. Someone who tries. Donnie wonders if he’ll ever stop messing things up for Raph.
Because as far as they can tell, this version of Raph went to bed one day, and the family he found upon waking was suddenly different. Of course, Raph is frustrated and confused and probably a little scared. He's not just normal Raph in a smaller body. Donnie might've realised that sooner if he'd spent more time with him instead of causing one mess after the other and then hiding from it all in his lab.
Donnie doesn't remember when he was five, but he's heard Sensei's stories about their childhood. The ones about his younger self hanging on Raph's every word. That one embarrassing retelling of the biggest fight Donnie ever caused by announcing Raph was his favorite brother. His father's memories of them doing everything together, at least until Donnie really got into science. So he steps out of the lab and locks it behind him. His brother, this brother, needs to come first.
He must look contrite enough that Leo only grills him a little before he points to Raph's room. After a single breath of indecision, he sits, shell against the door.
“Hey, Fai?” he starts, tugging at his fingers, “I’m really sorry. I have been pretty mean lately, haven’t I?” It takes a few moments, but a little thud echoes on the other side of the door.
Relieved, he continues, “I’m not as good at this as I used to be. I might need your help. But I’m out of my lab right now, and we can play whatever you want.”
Donnie hits the floor before he realises the door has swung open. Little Raph is looking down at him, eyes still watery but excited. "Really? Anything? Even Space Heroes!"
And Donnie almost can't believe it's that easy. He smiles with Raph's infectious joy. “Space Heroes? Who are you, Leo?”
Raph collapses into him with a laugh that banishes the rest of his tears as Donnie reaches out, tickling him just like he's seen their big brother do. He's still giggling when Donnie staggers to his feet. “Think I could use some bedding to build us the Dauntless?”
Raph cheers. Launching into an explanation of his favorite episodes and characters as he directs them around the lair to collect supplies. If this isn't blackmail material, Donnie doesn't know what is. Raph will never be able to deny that he likes Space Heroes ever again. Once Donnie figures out how to reverse this Kraang-smoke-induced de-aging that is.
He does still have to. They need Raph as he should be: their teammate, their protector, their equal. But if he were here in those roles right now, Donnie knows he would have heard a thousand times over that he needs to sleep, to eat, to take a break for at least five minutes, Don, come on.
So he'll try. He'll take breaks to hang out with his favorite brother. He'll get a lot of experience building sheet spaceships and pillow forts. And by the end of it all, Donnie will realise his little brother really does just want to play and ask silly questions that probably don’t seem so silly to him. He'll decide this little version of Raph isn't a puzzle of confusing emotions. He's the same pieces he's always been, unfiltered and untethered from all the pain and fear of their older selves.
And so, even after Raph returns to 16, whenever the thought creeps up on Donnie that he's not doing enough, that he needs to fix it. He'll lock his lab behind him and say, "Hey, Fai! Wanna play something?"
19 notes · View notes
catierambles · 7 months
Text
Feral Instincts Ch.20
Tumblr media
Pairing: The Rogue’s Gallery (Geralt, Syverson, Mike, August Walker, Walter Marshall) x Stephanie Daniels (OFC)
WC 1651
Warnings: Some racy bits in the beginning, but nothing overly explicit. Recalling prior domestic violence
Sy had been a man of his word and she had woken a few hours later to Walter's fingers moving between her legs as Sy eased into her. They took turns with her until all three of them were spent, collapsing into an exhausted pile and going back to sleep. Her alarm went off to start getting ready for work and she stayed awake only so long as to call out before falling back asleep with Walter's arms around her.
August and Geralt had been equally as insatiable and she lost count of how many orgasms they pulled from her. Good thing she couldn't have kids anymore, or there definitely would have been a bun in the oven after this, possibly more than one. They always made sure she was prepared for them, always made sure she came first, taking care of her needs before their own.
She lay on the couch, scrolling through her phone when the text came through from her supervisor.
Got the email that you called out. Can you walk at all?
She paused before typing out the reply.
No and shut up.
LOL yeah Alphas are like that on the full moon, especially with their Mates.
And I got four testosterone disasters keeping me occupied.
Wait…four?
Technically five, but Mike isn't an Alpha. He's back at the apartment, I spent it with the others.
But you have four Mates? The only wolves I've heard of having multiple Mates are female Alphas.
Heather. I am a female Alpha.
It took about half a second after hitting send before her name came up on caller ID.
"You're what?!" Heather exclaimed before Stephanie had the opportunity to say hi.
"I'm a female Alpha." She repeated.
"I mean, we were notified that you took over the pack occupying your apartment building and the one next door, but we figured you were just a proxy for one of the others." She said, "It's not uncommon for an Alpha to take over a territory and assign a proxy to run it if they can't be there in person. We all figured you were a Beta as they tend to be the proxy."
"No, Heather, I'm not a Beta. Mike is the Beta, he's my Beta. I'm his Alpha." Stephanie said.
"Shit." She said and sighed, "I honestly shouldn't be surprised, actually, just based on how you were before getting infected. Stubborn with a problem with authority figures. Makes sense, you are an authority figure."
"Yeah, they thought I was going to be an Omega before my first shift." She said and Heather gave a heavy snort on the other end of the line.
"You? An Omega?" She said, "I can sort of see how, but not hardly."
"They weren't feeling the protection fuzzy-wuzzies because I was an Omega…"
"They were feeling it because you're their Mate."
"Apparently."
"Well, shit. I'm gonna have to tell my Alpha that we were wrong." Heather said. “Knowing him, he’s going to want to schedule a get together. Does it with all the packs with territories touching his, foster good relations and all that. The previous Alpha of your territory basically told him to fuck off when he extended the offer.”
“I’ll talk to the others, but I don’t see why we wouldn’t show up.” Stephanie said, “Based on the number of people in my pack, I would say maybe a cookout at the park? There’s kids and I wouldn’t want them cooped up while the boring adults do boring adult things.”
“Sounds like a great idea, actually.” Heather said, “Weather has been nice, bring out the grills for food and games for the pups. I’ll pitch it and let you know what he says.” Stephanie covered the phone with her hand, pulling it away from her ear.
“Hey, Sy!” She called out.
“Yeah, doll?” He called back.
“How do you feel about a cook out with my boss’ pack? Our territory touches his.”
“Sounds like a fun time. We can have it here, lottsa room.”
“Thinking more about the park? Neutral ground and all that.”
“Yeah, that makes better sense. Don’t need him goin’ on the defensive straight away.” Sy said and she pulled her hand away, putting the phone back to her ear.
“He says it’s cool.” She said, “Still have to talk to the others, but again, I don’t see why they would have an issue with it.”
“Awesome! I’ll let him know and we’ll coordinate a day and time.” Heather said, “Is it okay if I give him your number? I’ll text you his so it’s not a mystery.”
“Go for it.” She said and a familiar feeling crawled over her mind right before she was jumped on, the wind being knocked out of her lungs. “Jesus!”
“What?”
“I just got ambushed by a buck fifty of wiggling Beta. I’ll talk to you later.” She wheezed and hung up, letting the phone fall to the floor as Mike squirmed in excitement, his wolf jet black and leaner than the others. He licked at her face excitedly, letting out happy whines as he scrabbled on top of her. “Mike! Cool it! You’re gonna break something! That something being me!” He finally settled, laying belly up between her and the couch, paws tucked against his chest. She held him, pressing kisses to his head and blew a raspberry at him when he licked at her face again. The fur under her hand turned to skin and he moved on top of her, looking down at her with a wide smile.
“Hi, sweetcheeks!” He said and she snorted, pulling him down into a kiss. He giggled against her lips, his hands going to her waist and pushing up her shirt. "Missed you."
"Apparently."
"Walter came and got me." He said and kissed her again, pushing his hands up her shirt to palm her breasts through her lounge bra, squeezing gently. He shuddered as she ran her fingers through his hair, but halted when he saw the wounds on her wrists from the silver chain. They were healing, but still ugly, the skin mottled and blistered. "Steph…"
"Hey, it's okay."
"It almost wasn't."
"But it is. I'm here, right now, with you." She said and he laid his head on her chest, his hands going to her waist. She held him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing her lips to his hair.
"I almost lost you."
"But you didn't."
"If I hadn't--"
"Stop. No "what-ifs", okay?" She said and he was quiet.
"Okay." He said finally, nodding against her.
"Stephanie." Geralt said, coming into the living room. "Mike."
"Sup." He said, waving at him with a couple fingers before settling again.
"What's up?" Stephanie asked.
"I need to ask you about Lewis." He said and she went quiet.
"What about him?" She asked finally.
"How long were you two together?" He asked, folding his arms over his chest.
"Almost two years." She said.
"And in that time you never suspected anything was wrong with him?" He asked and she went quiet again, only this silence held weight. "Sweetheart?"
"He always apologized." She said and Mike picked his head up to look at her. "Yeah, I know how that sounds, but it's true. He told me he loved me so much it made him crazy. We would fight, he would hit me, and then he would apologize saying his love for me made him unable to control himself."
"You knew he was a wolf." Geralt said and she nodded.
"He was open about it from the beginning." She said, "He would keep me locked up in my apartment for days at a time, telling me he was doing it to protect me from the other wolves in the area. I finally had enough and I told him we were over, we were done."
"And he suggested a camping trip." Mike said and she snorted.
"Not right away. I think he knew if he did I wouldn't have gone with him. Girl breaks up with an abusive boyfriend and agrees to be alone with him out in the middle of nowhere? Yeah, she's never being seen alive again. He begged me to reconsider, said he would do better, he would try to control himself better. Just give him another chance. As if I didn't already give him more than enough chances."
"It was bullshit, wasn't it?" Geralt asked.
"Actually, no. He did change. At least, he appeared to. He started being nicer, more attentive, he'd diffuse arguments before they started, let me see my friends again. He was a whole new Jordan." Stephanie said, "Six months later and then he suggested the camping trip. Just the two of us. It'd be nice, romantic, good to get away from everyone and everything." She stopped with a shrug, "You know the rest." Sy and Walter had frozen in the kitchen while they had listened to her talk, August halting at the top of the stairs. "I don't know if he planned on killing me, or if he was always planning on infecting me as another way to control me. I suppose it doesn't matter."
"And when we find him," Geralt said, his eyes hard, "He won't be hurting you or anyone else ever again."
"Tripped and exploded on impact." She said with a small laugh, recalling when Sy had said it. "August told me the Pack Council wants him alive."
"The Pack Council won't be there." August said, stepping onto the landing at the bottom of the stairs. "I was going to kill him just for using silver on you, but now…" He stopped with a low growl, "I'm going to take my time with him."
"Get in line." Geralt said through his teeth that had gone sharp.
“I’ll make popcorn.” Mike said and she snorted with a smile, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.
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matchbet-allofthetime · 11 months
Text
Promises, Promises
Nero/Dante/Vergil x GN!reader (can be read as platonic or romantic between nero/reader, dante/reader, or vergil/reader. whatever you prefer, just meant to be comforting i guess)
Word count: 1020
A/N: just wrote this, idrk what to say. reader claws at themself in their sleep even though they're lucid enough to know they're dreaming. they don't realize they're in actual real-world physical pain until they wake up, but frankly, the pain doesn't bother them. it's kinda about the boys being concerned because the reader doesn't seem to notice/care about their wounds past "fuck, that's gonna be a bitch to heal" and "damnit now i need new sheets. did i stain my mattress????" and it's also about a promise being made to protect each other bc the amulets they wear gave my brain ThoughtsTM
also demon boy cuddles and napping bc it's a need, not just a want
here's your warning for: blood, nightmares, reader tears themself up in their sleep bc nightmares, but they also don't feel much care about that in particular past "oh no i stressed my boys out oof"
reader is okay and vergil and nero cry. dante nearly does.
long A/N, so sorry, but i needed to kinda show my thought process after not sleeping for 24 hours lol
please enjoy!
─────────────────⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅─────────────────
It cycles through me like a storm, leaving me gasping for air. I jolt and can't manage to pry myself from the images in my own head.
Woefully overwhelming.
Equally underwhelming and boring as hell.
Shame I couldn't seem to care past my exhaustion. Even still, my body seemed to do the job of 'scared human' pretty well without my internal fears interfering.
Now if I waited just a moment longer, it should-
I cry out (against my brain's irritation and advice against doing precisely that-) and my eyes meet Dante's worried ones immediately. He's cradling my face and I see Nero nearly run in, arms full of medical supplies of all kinds. My arms feel warm- liquid warm. I groan in frustration, shutting my eyes.
They open again as I hear Nero openly crying through his concern and Vergil comes crashing like a hurricane into the room. His eyes are cold as always, but it's a new type of cold.
My throat is hoarse. I woke them up. I try to lift myself up on my arms before- ugh, fuck it. I slam myself back down and groan again.
Time for new fuckin' sheets. Again.
As Dante cradles me close, Vergil sets down a plastic tub filled with warm water, probably to clean the blood off of where I apparently tore myself open in my sleep. Had I been thrashing that badly? The dream was bad, but it wasn't anywhere near what the real nightmares were when I was a kid, so why…?
Nero wipes away his tears and gets to work wetting one of the many cloths he brought in the room; he soothes it over the flesh of my shoulder.
I look down groggily. Still not awake yet, it seems. Not fully, anyways.
It appears I've mostly gotten my shoulders, arms, and sides- the meatier parts of myself. Not sure if I did it because they were easier to grab onto or because there's more there to damage. Either way, the cloth feels nice and I slump relatively comfortably into Dante's warm arms and Nero's gentle hands.
I try to speak but really, no words come out. I taste blood. They can't smell the blood in my mouth versus the blood soaking into my sheets. My fingers curl into the blanket underneath me. Nero had gotten-
Oh fuck.
Now I start to panic, truly, in full, because Nero had gotten my this blanket and it was my favourite and if I ruined it with my blood, I swear to god-
"Darling, shit, breathe, okay? I know…" Dante sighs, his blue eyes watering and glossy, before continuing, his hands curling against my tensed ones, "…I know you don't really process your nightmares or physical pain the way normal people do, so I know that isn't the problem. Talk to me, what's up?" His voice is comforting, though extremely pressed for an answer.
I clear my throat, once, twice. Swallow down my blood. Don't care much about that part.
"…I got blood on the blanket Nero gave me."
The room goes dead silent. Vergil storms over and drops down to the floor next to my bed with bruising force and I'm not shocked when I hear the floorboards crack underneath the weight of his fall.
My hand reaches to thread through his silver hair and I am shocked when he lets out a sob. He whines into my hands and Nero finally finishes cleaning off all my blood. As his twin lay dormant and sob-choked, Dante starts to bandage my body. The damage wasn't good by any means, but it could've been much worse.
I rake my fingers further through Vergil's hair in apology. He accepts it graciously; didn't blame me to begin with. I know this, but silently apologize nonetheless.
As Dante finishes wrapping my arms, Nero lifts me up (which much protest from his father) and drags the blanket from under me. I'm set back down as Dante lays on the bed and Nero goes downstairs to throw the blanket in the wash before my blood stains it. Luckily it seems to have caught all of my blood, so no new sheets. Just a guilty conscience and burning shoulders for me.
Dante pulls me into his chest, purposefully warming himself as best he could without DTing to soothe my wounds and I snuggle into his body heat. Vergil lays beside us both and nuzzles his face and body closer to our warmth as we comfort one another.
Soon, Nero walks back in as Vergil's tears slow and he too lays in bed, curled into the opposite side of Dante.
Together we all snuggle as Dante turns on a movie. None of us pay attention, of course. Can't seem to make ourselves and we don't really care, either. I half think idly that even Dante isn't sure what movie he put on.
Nero's wings pull a thick comforter over us and we're enveloped in each other's scents as we start to drift off.
We all hold each other.
A promise.
A promise to never leave, to always be there for one another, to take care of one another.
A reminder that there will never be anyone who could hurt any of the others in the room without coming face-to-face with some of the scariest, most vicious motherfuckers on the planet and dying by their hands.
A reminder that us Spardas stick together- even the ones rallied in not by water of the womb but blood of the covenant- and that no nightmares would be allowed without some ass-kicking in this place.
That was our promise.
My fingers reach up to curl protectively over my amulet, at match to Dante's and Vergil's and Nero's- swirling with gold and silver, blue and red. Three initials written delicately into its metal- DVN.
Dante. Vergil. Nero.
It was our promise and they'd never break it so long as they all lived.
I smile and hum contentedly as the three men drape their arms softly over me.
No nightmares could ever reach us- not as long as we were in each other's arms.
64 notes · View notes
bitbybitwrites · 6 months
Note
For the au + trope + prompt game maybe:
12. babysitter!au + 4. meet messy + 27. “that was a very bad idea. 0/10 would not recommend.”
But no pressure!
OK, in true fashion, this one totally got away from me. I can't even try to pass it off as a super long drabble. It's mutated into a full blown ficlet. Ooooops.
But I guess the combination got me inspired. I kind of went literal for the meet messy trope - maybe it works? 😂
Anyway, here's 1,366 words for you, @annepi-blog
******
The last thing Blaine Anderson expected that night while delivering pizzas was to meet the love of his life. 
He wasn’t expecting too much, to be honest.  Most of his shift had gone as usual.  But his final job for the evening found Blaine with his arms filled with a rather impressive food order when he knocked on the door to a swanky Upper West Side apartment building.  
“B Side Pizza,” he announced loudly, though the apartment owner should have been aware of who he was.  The imposing doorman in the lobby had called up to warn them.
The muffled sound of high-pitched shrieking, which then quickly changed to an ear-splitting loud high-pitched shrieking, assailed Blaine once the door was opened.  Behind the other side of the door was a very exhausted-looking but ridiculously handsome man.  His chestnut hair fell heavily over one eyebrow, apparently fallen out of some formerly impressive style that Blaine could kind of see the echos of.  His clothes seemed on trend but were very rumpled, and Blaine thought he could spy a small handprint in neon green paint that grazed the right hip of some extremely tight skinny jeans.  A smudge of the same paint was also on his chin.  He doubted the man was even aware.
Blaine was in trouble.  
One look at this man and Blaine was positive that he was in love.
“Thank god,” the disheveled angel said when he saw Blaine.  “Pizza is here!” he yelled over his shoulder.
“Pizza!”  A group of younger voices screamed in excitement.  Apparently, the prospect of food was enough to stop the rest of the caterwauling.
The man ushered Blaine into a lavish apartment, directing  Blaine towards a kitchen that could have been plucked right out of Architectural Digest.  It was gorgeous to look at (not unlike the homeowner), but Blaine doubted it ever had any use.
“You can put everything out here.” The man waved his hand at a long marble-covered counter. Blaine nodded and began unpacking his delivery tote as he watched the man dash out into another part of the apartment and shout: 
“Barbra!”
“Joan!”
“Streisand!”
“Yes, Uncle Kurt?” A trio of childish voices replied in a sing-song fashion.
Kurt sighed loudly. “Can you please clean up your mess, wash your hands, and come sit down to dinner. . .please?” the desperation in Kurt’s voice was so very clear.
“That’s two pleases, Uncle Kurt.” 
“That’s me asking really, really, really nicely, Streisand.“ Kurt said back, a forced smile on his face, his voice sounding strained.  “I ordered dinner from your favorite place, just like your parents told me to.  Let’s get going, ok?”
Kurt returned to the room, where he promptly collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs surrounding the table and dropped his head into his folded arms.  “I am never doing this again.” Blaine could sort of make out.  Kurt’s voice was very muffled.  “Or at least not without reinforcements.”
Blaine’s eyes softened.  “Babysitting duties?” he asked.
Kurt raised his head and sighed.  “This is seriously giving me doubts about my capability to be a father in the future.
Blaine laughed at Kurt’s forlorn expression.  “I’m sorry.  I felt the same way once I started watching my brother’s kids.  Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it. I promise it gets loads better.”
“Triplets.  My best friend had triplets, and I am nothing if not a pushover.” Kurt moaned.
A heartbreaking wail - or maybe it was another screech, Blaine wasn’t exactly sure, came from one of the other rooms.  Kurt’s face dropped into an expression of utter horror and disbelief as three young children came barreling into the kitchen, covered head to toe in smears of neon pink, green, and yellow paint.  One of the little girls had her hair covered in the paint, and she apparently was the one wailing the loudest.  Her eyes were screwed shut as she blindly flailed her arms, sobbing, and crashed face-first into Blaine.
“Uncle Kurt!  Streisand put paint in my hair!” The little girl continued to wail as she wrapped her arms around Blaine’s waist and buried her face into his stomach, subsequently smearing more paint all over him.
“Streisand!” Kurt cried out, whipping around to look at a not-so-apologetic 6-year-old boy who was still gripping a tube of neon pink paint.  Streisand looked almost ready to squeeze the remainder of the tube onto his other sister’s hair but second-guessed himself once he caught Kurt’s stern glare.  He dropped the tube like a hot potato and at least decided to look chagrined.
“Um, sorry, Uncle Kurt?”
Kurt continued giving the child a death glare.”That shouldn’t be a question, Streisand.  And I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”
“Sorry, Barbra,” Streisand said. “Really, really sorry.  But you do look pretty with pink hair. You said you wanted pink hair.”
Barbra hiccuped loudly as she wiped her face onto Blaine’s shirt. “I like pink, but I wanted to do it myself.” Barbra then pulled back, surprised: “Wait, you’re not Uncle Kurt.”
The other little girl looked at Blaine suspiciously.  “Who are you?  Are you Uncle Kurt’s boyfriend?”
“Uncle Kurt, you’re not supposed to bring boyfriends over. Mommy said so.” Streisand said.
Kurt turned beet red, and Blaine had to smile again at the absurdity of the whole situation.  “My name is Blaine.  I’m not Uncle Kurt’s boyfriend . . .”
“Do you want to be?  Do you like Uncle Kurt?” 
‘He’s cute.  I think he should be your boyfriend, Uncle Kurt.”
“He’s ok, Uncle Kurt. But if you like him, you should make him your boyfriend.”
Kurt groaned.  “OK.  No more talking about boyfriends or my lack thereof.  This was supposed to be a nice, calm, quiet evening. ‘Why don’t we do some finger painting?’ I said.  ‘It will be fun,’ I said.  Who was I kidding?“ Kurt parroted himself from earlier in the evening and then rolled his eyes as he looked back to Blaine.  “That was a very bad idea on my part.  0/10 would not recommend.”
Blaine chuckled.  “Well, the paint is very . . it is bright and festive and fun . . and um, if you had a black light - it would glow in the dark.”
“What?!” screeched Kurt.  “Where did you get that paint, Streisand?”
“Mommy and Daddy’s room. In the table by the bed.”
“Oh god,” Kurt mumbled.  “I don’t want to think about why they have that in their bedroom.”
Blaine snickered.  “Why don’t you get the kids cleaned up? I’ll keep the food warm in the oven for you.” he tossed Kurt a charming smile.  “Consider it an extra perk of the delivery process.”
“Thank you so, so much. “ Kurt gasped as he began dragging Streisand and Joan out of the kitchen by their arms.  “Barbra, come on.  Leave Mr. Blaine alone, and let’s get this paint out of your hair.”
Barbra followed reluctantly.  “Will you still be here when we come back?” she asked Blaine.
Blaine knew what he wanted to say, but he hated to intrude on their little evening.
“I don’t know.  I think it depends on your Uncle Kurt.” Blaine confessed.
“Uncle Kurt, pleeeeeeeeease can Mr. Blaine stay?” Barbra whined.
“Yeah, can he? Uncle Kurt, can he?” Joan chimed in.
“Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay.” Streisand began to chant loudly.
Kurt rolled his eyes.  “Yes, Mr. Blaine can stay.  We have to get him out of his clothes too.”
Blaine coughed and tried to suppress another laugh.  “Well, I usually get a first date before that. . .”
 Kurt sputtered and blushed again.  Blaine was beginning to find it totally adorable.   “I meant to change clothes,” Kurt tried to explain.  “Because paint . . and . . there’s a washer and dryer in the apartment . . oh and fuck  … I’m just going to go now before I say something else stupid.”
As Kurt pulled the two kids he had in hand down the hallway towards the bathroom, he could hear: “Ooooooh … you said a bad word, Uncle Kurt.”
A ton of giggling.
And then a small pink-haired covered face popped back into the kitchen doorway.
“So you’ll stay?” Barbra asked excitedly.
“I’ll stay. I promise.” Blaine told her.
Barbra squealed in joy and ran back down the hallway.
Oh yeah, Blaine was in so much trouble now.
*****
NOTE: If you haven't figured out yet, yes, these are Rachel's triplets😂
If anyone else wants to play - AU+Trope+Prompt Game.
23 notes · View notes
onlyonetifosi · 1 year
Text
I'm not him
-> Word Count: 572
-> Warnings: a lot of fluff, angst at the beggining, some steam at the end but nothing explicit
->Author note: Short fic about a mix of emotions for mick. I would appreciate if you send some ideas or requests for me to write. English is not my first language so sorry for mistakes
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It's been almost five years since Michael Schumacher's devastating skiing accident. The world mourned the loss of one of the greatest Formula One drivers of all time. But for Mick Schumacher, it was a personal tragedy. He's the 23-year-old son of the seven-time world champion, he's not Mick, he's Michael's Schumacher son, and he's determined to make his own way in the sport. But the shadow of his father's accomplishments looms large. Mick knows that he will always be compared to his father. It's an impossible standard to live up to. And the pressure can be overwhelming at times. But Mick is determined to prove that he is his own man. He is a talented driver in his own right and he is determined to make a name for himself in the world of motorsport.
-Liebling this is mentally exhausting i can't keep being compared to my dad , it feels like i can't do anything without him being brought up. -Mick, you have to understand that your father is one of the most successful drivers in history. It's only natural that people are going to compare you to him.
-I know, but it's still hard. I just want to be my own person. -You are your own person, Mick. You're a talented driver with a bright future ahead of you. Just keep doing what you're doing and you'll make a name for yourself in this sport.
-No I'm not there isn't a gp where i see coments about my driving compared to my dad's- He says angry, getting up of the couch where we were cuddling.
-Micky, come back baby, I know you are having a hard time at Haas and being compared not only with your dad but Kevin- I say following him to our beedroom.
-I know he was a better driver than me, but who cares? I'm not him, I'm Mick not Michael- He says crying and i hug him.
-And you are the best driver in my eyes- I say kissing his tears as they fall from his face.
-I love you prinzessin- He says with a small smile and i kiss him passionately.
-What a nice view- he says pointing to the countryside from the balcony of our hotel in Monza.
We are here for the italian gp, we don't have many holidays but they are always special.
-I'm glad we could come here, honey- I say happy.
-You lived here, didn't you?- i say remembering some thing he told me about his junior categories years and living in Italy because of being a driver of the FDA.
-Yeah for 3-4 years actually- He says- I love my years here but i prefer home in Switzerland, with mum, Gina, Angie and going to Seb's to see him, Hanna and their kids.
-I hope we can go home soon- he sighs.
Only two weeks more, baby- I say hugging him and sitting on his lap.
Our kiss gets heated and more intense but not messy, deep and full of love, just like we do it.
We make sweet and pasionate love with the first rays of sun going through the window.
After that we go into the streets, enjoying the golden hour light that makes everything look even more beautiful. Now we're sleeping in my bed and i'll have to wake up early to go to work but i feel happier than ever with him.
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I hope you like this! send me whatever you want to my asks.
I would love to know something about you!!
And would you like a mention list? like for me to mention you in my fics <3 <3
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lizmitches · 1 year
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smoke and sirens on display - post 2x15; barbara/melissa
“Hey,” Melissa pops her head into the classroom, her presence a sudden spark. “Ava said you’re headed home. You got someone to cover? Okay to drive?” The question is asked with a mirthful grin, her cheeks pink from the cold and eyes still full of childlike wonder.
Barbara can’t help but dissect the joy Melissa exudes; not out of jealousy, per se, but a gentle curiosity. As if the idea of a simple kind of happiness—a contentment so fierce you never feel the need to search for more—is so unimaginable it needs to be studied.
“Gwen’s going to take over when the kids get back from lunch,” Barbara replies, busying herself with collecting supplies for the substitute. “And yes, I’ll be able to manage a motor vehicle without further incident, if you can believe it.”
“Just don’t pull over to light any candles,” Melissa interjects, making her way into the room and closing the door purposefully behind her. At Barbara's warning glare she adds, “What? Too soon?”
Barbara cautions a glance to the hallway as Melissa steps toward her with intention. She stands up straight, her practiced posture a little loose, exhaustion creeping in at the edges. “What are you doing?”
“Just—“ Melissa opens her arms toward her by way of explanation. "C’mere. Let me hold you for a second. The ops are outside filming Jacob pawn off his cookie pucks to passing joggers. We’re in the clear.”
"I can't." Barbara crosses her arms over her chest protectively—a cheap imitation of Melissa's embrace—just as she’d done earlier. As with many things lately, she has to suffocate the urge; starve the flame until it dies out. But Melissa is a solar flare, bright and dangerous, and Barbara fears she might ignite by proxy.
“You’re not gonna get struck by lightning, Barb. Come on, just for a second. You’ve been holding it together all day.” Melissa bites the inside of her cheek. “Worried you're gonna fall apart."
"I'll only fall apart if you touch me." She holds her palm out to Melissa’s chest, delivers a minuscule shove that forces her back by a few inches. "So don’t."
Melissa—beautiful, tender Melissa, who believes in Barbara’s goodness even when her interal ugliness, her sinfulness, bubbles to the surface—shoots her a wounded look filled with so much understanding that Barbara wishes the ground would open up and swallow her whole. It’s only after she looks away that she realizes there was pity in Melissa’s eyes, too, and she wonders when every facet of her life had been reduced to kindling.
“Look, I just wanna say that, um,” Melissa hesitates, unable to find the right words. It used to be so much easier for the two of them; words rolling off their tongues so fast they could barely keep up, a frenzied undercurrent of excitement living beneath each one of their conversations. An alluring, indescribable newness. Now, Melissa hems and haws, puts her hands on her hips. It’s stilted and unfamiliar. “I know I’ve been distracted with Gary lately,” she says finally.
Barbara can’t help but roll her eyes. “For goodness’ sake, Melissa, you’re not distracted. You’re in love. With a…“ Now it’s her turn to search for words. “With a nice man who treats you how you deserve to be treated. He’s your partner.”
“Yeah, and you’re my friend.”
The word hangs between them the same way it always has. Because friend so easily gives way to family. Family becomes forever. And yet every second they stand here it becomes clear that the current iteration of their relationship is anything but permanent.
“I should have seen that something was wrong. I should have been there for you.” Melissa reaches out despite the cold shoulder, lets her hand fall on Barbara’s bicep like it had earlier. “Honey, I really am sorry.”
Barbara shakes her head. “You don’t need to carry that. I’m a big girl. I make my own decisions and start my own fires, apparently.” She picks up her work bag from underneath her desk, hoists it over her shoulder. “Gerald and I are meeting for lunch and then I’m going home to take a nap.”
“You take naps now?”
Barbara can’t help but smile, close her eyes against the question. She remembers the lazy summer afternoons toward the beginning. The giddiness and guilt giving way to heavy eyes, the way she’d push herself out of bed despite Melissa’s protestations. It was as much a punishment as anything, but it had also become something akin to tradition. A denial that gave way to drowsy truths, hushed confessions, an intimacy existing only in the inbetween.
“No,” she says, and Melissa beams. The kind of smile Barbara’s used to, hasn’t seen in nearly a year; a knowing, warm thing reserved only for her. An expression full of mutual understanding, shared history, affection. It’s like aloe. “But maybe today I’ll start.”
Melissa shoves her hands in her pockets. “I miss you.”
There’s a split second where Barbara considers ignoring it. Considers making up an excuse to walk out, to avoid the delicate balance they’ve struck since the cameras got here; since Gary came into the picture. It would all be so much easier, she thinks, to walk away without saying anything. But she knows it would continue to ferment, to bubble underneath the surface until it all broke down much more painfully. Much more publicly, heaven forbid. And after a day of being seen—by Janet and the kids and the cameras—Barbara seeks a kind of closure that can’t be replayed.
“I can’t—things are too complicated,” Barbara says, and judging by the way Melissa shifts from one foot to the other, the wince that flashes across her features, it seems she knows what’s coming next. “I know it was never simple, but it was our simple, and now—“
“Now you have a sick husband and I have a guy dumb enough to love me.” Melissa taps her heel on the floor. “Sheesh, getting broken up with doesn’t get any easier once you hit 60, does it?” She shakes out her arms like it’ll make the blow sting less. “Can’t say I didn’t see it coming.”
“We’re not—Melissa. There’s nothing to break up, we were never—“
“Hey, give me this, alright?” Melissa pleads. “Look, I really don’t want to take up more space than you have room for. You’re spread thin, you’re stressed, you need to be there for Gerald. You also need to take care of yourself.”
After a day of relying on false facts, Barbara is caught off guard by hearing real ones. Melissa grabs her hand, their fingers tangling together with a sense of familiarity, and for the first time in months she doesn’t attempt to pull away.
“Things have changed. I know we’ve both been feelin’ it,” Melissa says, thumb running across Barbara’s knuckles. “So let me be the collateral damage.”
Barbara’s not sure how to respond to Melissa’s sacrifice. Has to fight with the fact that Melissa has always been the braver one, more likely to run into a burning building without looking back. But it’s her sureness accompanied by the soft look in her eyes that makes their newfound distance, their undetermined future, less terrifying. They’ll be alright, the two of them. They’ll survive.
Barbara squares her shoulders, smiles, replies the same way she would to a stranger holding the door open, a random woman complimenting her shoes. “I appreciate that.”
A clean, amicable break. She drops Melissa’s hand.
“Just want you to be happy,” Melissa murmurs. “You and the hubby—your golden years with no fire engine red-haired miscreants to worry about—that’ll do it, right?”
“I—yes. We’ll be happy.” She wants to add, I’ll always worry about you, but she extinguishes the thought.
“Good.”
“I miss you, too,” Barbara breathes, and it’s simultaneously an olive branch and a goodbye; fuse lit and seconds left until the house they’ve built is set aflame.
Her phone dings in her purse. Gerald texting to say he’s arrived at the restaurant, has ordered her favorite. He’s waiting for her, solid and breathing and alive. She can’t see through the smoke.
She loves him.
“Mel?”
“Yeah?”
“I’ll take that hug now.”
Melissa’s smile is no longer bright. Her eyes don’t sparkle. She reaches out to pull Barbara in. “You got it.”
It’s different this time than all the others. Years of embraces that set off chain reactions, fireworks, explosions that engulfed them both, and now they stand in each others’ arms—pressed against each other tightly and holding, holding, holding—and there’s nothing left to say. The clock ticks. Sneakers squeak against linoleum. Birds chirp in the early spring air.
She loves her.
It’s only when Barbara extracts herself from Melissa’s arms, steps back into their new shared existence, that she realizes they’re both covered in ash.
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