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katnisspeetaprim · 2 months

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Father Figure

Lucifer Morningstar/Platonic!TeenReader

Summary: You'd had a hard time in the sort while you'd been alive, so when your new boss shows you kindness like you've never seen, you can't help but be suspicious...

Warnings: Platonic relationship, teenage fem reader, implied drug use, implied sex work, implied underage sex, dead beat parents, assault, swearing, panic attack, crying, angst, fluff A.N; not sure if I will write a part 2 yet, see how this does!

Word Count: 3102 Hazbin M.list

Hell was a scary place for someone like you. Being a teenager in Hell was less than ideal.

Your parents were useless, always too coked out of their minds to care for you, so you left.

Due to your unfortunate circumstances, you had to resort to some... less than kosher means to survive. It was awful, but it’s all you could do.

One night, one of your clients wouldn’t take no for an answer so when you tried to fight back, things went bad for you.

So here you were.

Luckily, under princess Morningstar’s new work programme, all new sinners would be provided with a job to get them started, if they accepted the help that is. And that’s how you came to be the King of hell’s live in maid.

You’d finally found your way to the mansion, after getting lost multiple times. You felt somewhat intimidated as you stood before the large doors. It just now hit you that you’d be working for the devil himself. The thought made your blood run cold. Why would they give such a high profile job to someone like you? Maybe because you wouldn’t be able to cause any trouble? Either way you couldn’t back out now.

Swallowing back your nerves, you raised a hand and knocked on the door.

Almost immediately the door swung open to reveal a short man, who seemed a little too keen to interact with you.

‘Why hello there! Something I can help you with?’... Was he waiting by the door?

‘I uh- I was told to come here to work?’ You handed him your work certificate, and he quickly scanned it over before breaking out into a smile.

‘Wow! I didn’t expect to get someone so soon!’ It was only after Lucifer read the paper, did he properly look at you. His smile faltered slightly.

‘Uh sorry to be blunt, but you look a little... young?’

‘Well I’m 16.’ You laughed nervously. ‘Is that not ok? I promise I’ll be a good worker!’ Lucifer frowned deeply at your sudden panicked rambling.

It wasn’t uncommon for people to die young, but to end up in Hell?

He knew Earth could be a terrible place, but what could you have done at such a young age to end up here.

‘No no! Just me thinking out loud haha.’ Lucifer quickly backtracked. ‘Please come in.’ He moved to allow you to pass by, now smiling again. You entered, realising you were only slightly shorted than him as you passed by.

Maybe working for the Devil wouldn’t be as scary as you thought.

‘You have no idea how long I’ve needed a maid. I hate cleaning!’ He sighed out dramatically.

Over the coming months, you’d settled well into your job. You suppose you had it easy when it came to jobs in Hell. Cleaning was pretty easy.

Lucifer mostly left you to your own devices, thinking you wouldn’t want to hang out with an old man like him, but that didn’t mean he didn’t make an effort with you.

The first time he approached you in the middle of the day, was to gift you a mobile phone.

‘Hey!’ He slid up to you out of nowhere, making you jump out of your skin. ‘Realised you don’t have a phone! Can’t check in if you don’t have one of those!’ You weren’t used to receiving gifts with no strings attached, But Lucifer didn’t seem to have ulterior motives, so you tentatively accepted.

‘Oh! I’ll even give you my daughters number! You two will get on like a house on fire!’

Another encounter was on an evening. Lucifer was finishing up his supper, when he aught sight of you scurrying round the foyer. He called out for you to come over.

‘Have you eaten yet? It’s getting pretty late...’ You couldn’t help but feel touched that he was seemingly looking out for you.

‘I still have a lot to do... I’m a little behind today...’ You trailed off, worried about being scolded for being tardy.

‘Nonsense! Please join me, there’s way too much for just me anyway.’ Lucifer insisted, jumping up and pulling a chair out for you.

‘Are you sure that’s ok?’ You asked, still a little reserved of his kindness.

‘Of course! Always happy for the company.’

Lucifer could read you like a book. He knew you were still nervous and skeptical of him, but he couldn’t blame you. He still didn’t know the circumstances for you to end up in Hell, plus you were so young, it would take a lot to trust.

Even though you worked for him, Lucifer couldn’t help but feel protective of you.

One of the more recent incidents, was when you got hurt.

The house chef was running out of ingredients, so he asked you to run out and grab them. You happily agreed since you didn’t really have any reason to leave the house otherwise.

Ok. Maybe you’d gone a little over bored, you thought as you juggled the heavy bags in your arms.

‘Hey baby! Need some help with those?’ You looked over and saw a group of 3 men leering at you. You smiled nervously and said ‘ No thank you.’ Before turning round, hoping to get away without any trouble.

‘Hey do you know who your talking to? Don’t be rude!’ One of the men grabbed your arm, causing you to drop your bags.

‘Don’t touch me!’ You screamed out, trying to pry your arm from his grip.

‘We were just offering to walk you home lady, but if you want to get down here, that’s fine by us.’ The second man sneered at you with a smirk as he grabbed your face hard.

Your eyes widened at his words. You were now struggling even more, to no avail. The final man cam up behind you and grabbed your other arm in an attempt to keep you still.

‘Stop struggling will ya!’ The man in front of you spat out, shaking you by the arm. He shook you so violently, that the long sleeve of your dress began to rip. You took advantage of this. Pulling your arm back so hard, your sleeve came off in his hand.

The attacker behind you hadn’t been expected you to fall backwards, so he lost his grip on your arm, giving you just enough time to book it in the direction of Lucifer’s home.

You could hear them running and shouting after you, but you didn’t look back. It wasn’t far now. You just had to make it back to the house and you’d be safe.

Bursting through the main doors, you immediately fell to your knees and cradled your head in your hands as you hyperventilated.

‘Y/N!? What the Hell happened?’ Lucifer had heard the slam of the door so he came out to investigate. He hadn’t expected to find you having a panic attack in his entrance hall.

He was kneeling by your side in an instant, placing a comforting hand on your back. As he looked closer at you, he saw that your sleeve was ripped, with a bruise forming round your wrist. When you looked up at him with wide, teary eyes he also clocked some bruises on your jaw.

Lucifer’s eyes immediately darkened.

‘’m sorry I-I lost the groceries...’ You stuttered out with a shaky voice. Lucifer’s face immediately contorted.

‘Y/N I don’t give a damn about the groceries! I want to know who did this to you.’ Lucifer was aware of how angry he sounded, but he was honestly offended that you thought he cared more about some groceries than you.

You cowered slightly at his raised voice and Lucifer felt bad. He took a deep breath to calm down before speaking again, much more softly this time.

‘Please Y/N, I need to know who did this.’

You looked up to him and you could see the genuine concern in his eyes. You tried your best to get your sobs under control so you could speak.

‘There was a-a group of three rough looking guys not far from here...’ Lucifer groaned internally. He knew exactly who you were talking about.

They were a group that had been causing trouble round the are for a while now, but he never had a good enough reason to get rid of them... Until now.

Lucifer stood and extended a hand to you with a smile. You hesitantly took his hand and he helped you to your feet.

‘Go get cleaned up ok? I gotta go out for a while.’ He ushered you towards your room.

‘Ok...’ You trailed off sadly.

‘Great!’ Lucifer grinned widely at you as he opened a portal. He stepped through before leaning his head back out to address you.

‘And I don’t want to see you doing house work when I get back, kay?’ he tipped his hat before dashing back through. Then the portal closed.

‘Evening gentlemen.’ The three men from earlier swiftly jumped up from their card game, to see Lucifer leaning up against the wall, blocking the exit to the alley. They all immediately shrunk back when they saw it was him.

‘oh your majesty... What brings you to our hideout?’ Lucifer started to slowly walk into the alley, never tearing his eyes away from the men, making them even more on edge.

‘Uh-sir?’

‘So you think it’s fun to assault kid’s huh?’ Lucifer spoke in an eerily calm voice. The men looked at each other, now sweating profusely. They all immediately tried to deny the accusations, but Lucifer wasn’t having it.

‘Keep your filthy mouths shut!’ His demonic form began manifesting as his anger grew. ‘You dare lay your hands on someone I care about!?’

The men were no longer tough bullies, but now reduced to a quivering mass with their backs to the wall as Lucifer stalked forwards.

A smirk appeared on his face as he narrowed his eyes at the men.

‘What do you say I give a demonstration of how Hell got it’s reputation?’

Screams echoed from the alley. People knew better than to intervene.

Lucifer returned home not much later, making a bee line for your room straight away.

He was about to knock on your door, when he heard faint crying coming from the other side.

He looked down remorsefully. Maybe he shouldn’t have left you alone. He composed himself and knocked. The sobs went quiet and he heard a meek, ‘come in.’

As he entered, he noticed you’d changed from your maid outfit and now wore your pyjamas and dressing gown.

‘Hey Y/N, you feeling any better?’ He came to sit next to you with a comforting smile.

‘I guess so...’ You replied, though the defeated look was still evident on your face.

‘Well golly! I have something to turn that frown upside down!’ You were startled by his sudden energetic proclamation. ‘Ta-da!’ He pulled a small duck from his coat pocket and proudly presented it to you.

You looked over the duck, which had obviously been made to resemble you by giving it some of your features.

As you looked at the little yellow duck, something inside of you snapped. Without warning, you batted the duck from his hand and jumped up in a fury, scowl painted across your face.

‘Why are you acting like you care about me!?’ Lucifer jumped up as if you’d burnt him, his hands out in front of him as a peaceful gesture. He was stunned at your sudden outburst.

‘Y/N, I don’t thi-‘

‘Don’t try and lie to me! Nobody’s ever cared about me!’ You cut him off. You were getting more irate as you broke down into hysterics again.

Lucifer didn’t know what to say. He opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t find the words to speak.

When he didn’t answer, it only made you more angry.

‘What do you want from me!?’ You screamed at him, tears flowing down your face. ‘Is it sex? Is that what you want from me, just like everyone else!?’

Lucifer audible gasped at your outburst and took a step back to show he meant no harm.

‘Whoa kid! I don’t want anything from you! Especially not...’ Lucifer couldn’t bring himself to say it. Everything began to fall into place for him now. So that’s what you had to do back on Earth.

He was angry that you accused him of being that disgusting, but not at you. He could never hate you. He was angry that there were people on Earth that thought it was ok to take advantage of a child like that.

You froze in place. The way he was keeping his distance, the way he was making himself look small so as to not intimidate you... Then there was his eyes. They were sad.

They bore into you, as if he were pleading with you to believe him. He wasn’t lying.

Your eyes stung with tears and your face heated up as you looked away, embarrassed by your outburst.

Lucifer wanted to comfort you, but he also didn’t want to spook you, so you needed to make the first move.

You mumbled something under your breath he couldn’t quite hear.

‘I uh, didn’t catch that...’ You squinted your eyes and let out a shaky breath, as if hyping yourself up to repeat what you had said.

You looked him dead in the eye, face hard as you repeated yourself.

‘I said I wish I were your daughter! My life would have been so much better.’

Lucifer was gobsmacked. He really hadn’t been expecting that. When he really thought about it he realised he shouldn’t be that surprised at all. He knew you had to have a rough life, and with how welcoming and caring he’d been to you, he should have know something like this would manifest.

The more Lucifer thought it over, the bigger his hear swelled. You thought so highly of him, that you wanted him to be your dad, or fatherly figure at least.

It seemed that Lucifer took a few moments too many to digest this information, as you turned away from him abruptly. He could see you shaking.

‘I’m sorry....’ You whispered.

Lucifer was snapped back to reality by your voice. You were clearly still upset, but he couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face.

He made his way over to you and gingerly placed a hand on your shoulder, so as to not startle you, but you still flinched at the contact.

‘Y/N... You’ve nothing to be sorry for.’ Lucifer spoke so softly that it took you off guard. You couldn’t see his face, but you could tell by the tone of his voice that he was smiling.

‘It wasn’t till recently that I repaired my relationship with Charlie.’ You were rooted to the spot as you listened intently to what he was saying. ‘ I wasn’t there for a long time, and I truly regret how much time I missed with her.’ Your face was cast down as you hung onto every word.

You felt so stupid bringing this up. He already had a daughter that he loved, so you would just get in the way. Maybe this was his way of letting you down gently.

Lucifer moved to stand next to you, with his arm now across your shoulders. As you looked up to him, you were stunned to see him smiling. You almost passed out at his next words.

‘But maybe I can be there for you.’ More tears started to stream down your face, but this time they were tears of joy. For the first time in a long time, you felt truly happy.

Flinging your arms round his torso, you buried your head into his chest as you clung to him for dear life.

Lucifer happily returned your embrace and lay his head a top yours.

‘I’m sorry we couldn’t get here sooner.’ He soothed as he stroked the top of your head. You pulled back and looked up to him with a slight laugh.

‘You mean I should have died sooner?’ Lucifer cringed and pulled away, playfully throwing his hands up in the air.

‘Well of course it’s gonna sound morbid if you say it like that!’ You both laughed together and you wiped the tears from under your eyes.

Something caught Lucifer’s eye from across the room. It was the small duck he’d previously offered you.

You watched without a word as he retrieved the gift. He stood before you and offered it once again with a wide grin. This time you gratefully accepted.

Cupping your hands round the small toy, you held it up next to your face.

‘Great likeness.’ You joked and Lucifer snorted out in laughter.

‘I’m glad you like it! You know when you knocked it away, I thought you were highly offended with how I portrayed you, so good to know that’s not the case!’ He teased and gae you a thumbs up.

‘Thank you.’

‘Well.’ Lucifer spun round, making his way to the door before pausing to speak over his shoulder. ‘Thanks to todays surprising turn of events, I need to hire a new maid.’ He paused for a moment before turning back round to fully face you. ‘Can’t have my honorary daughter run ragged , now can I?’

Later that night after both of you had taken some much needed time to calm down, Lucifer had made you sit at the dining table, whilst he served you for a change. Once you were both settled, he took the opportunity to press you a little.

‘So did you ever reach out to Charlie like I said a while ago?’ You chuckled nervously and rubbed at the back of your neck.

‘I didn’t really think it would be appropriate.’

‘Ah come one now, I was the one who bought it up! Plus I think it would be good for you.’

‘How so?’ You titled your had curiously and Lucifer sank back into his chair with a breathy laugh.

‘Charlie showers literally everyone she meets with love, and she’ll introduce you to loads of new friends.’

‘But-‘ You stopped yourself, really thinking weather or not you should even ask. ‘Will she even want to meet me?’ Lucifer’s face softened into a warm smile. He knew exactly what you were thinking. You were scared that Charlie would want nothing to do with you, considering the way you saw him now.

He sat up and reached over, giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze.

‘I grantee it.’

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luveline · 4 months

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hey! would you mind writing sirius black x reader (ole flame or something) when they meet for the first time since azkaban at a meeting for the order? thank you and happy holidays!

thank u for requesting, hope this is OK! ♡

—you and sirius both get to go home eventually, 2.2k. fem

You were still kids when Sirius… went away. You thought he hurt James and Lily, and it didn't matter that you loved him because he was evil and cruel and he hurt the people he loved most in the world, and then you were outposted thousands of miles eastward, your life a shadow.

Remus sent you letters. You always answered, even when it hurt, but his last was too much to believe. You told yourself that someone forged his handwriting through a curse or some new gimmick, and then a second arrived with a smaller envelope hidden inside.

No name written on it. No Dear anything to begin.

Things are different to what you've been told. Please come home, it said. This penmanship was shaken like a hand out of practice, but something felt familiar in the curves and dots.

If Remus’ letter (and the second smaller one too) were in fact telling the truth, it means you did something awful, and so, for a while, you don't go.

Please, the next letter says, again enclosed within a larger explanation from Remus, I'm sorry. I just want to see you again.

Getting home isn't as simple as he might think. You have to picture the destination very clearly to disapparate, and you have no sustained recollection anymore of the places you used to go. You remember silly things, slices of memories; the four of them laughing in a big green field, the sweet smell of hair oil to your left; the beige walls of a rented flat where you'd lay in bed for hours, sometimes days at a time, before things got too terrible to sleep; a string-lit garden that last summer, hands of poker on a glass table. These places aren't real anymore. You can't go back to them.

Upon your request, Molly forwards you an address and a secret code.

Trains, buses, trains again. A long walk through a cold street. Some secret this or that. You arrive in the night and a frowning face ushers you in, past a painting sealed away and up the creaking stairs. You spend hours sitting on the end of a bed coated in dust waiting for the sun to rise, your back stiff with nerves. You could slip out before anyone else knows you're here, it's not as if Moody would give you away. But why did you come, if you were going to run straight back to your outpost?

You don't want Sirius’ betrayal to be true, of course. It took your breath away imagining what it would mean if he hadn't done what you thought. If it's all lies (as it seems to be), if he's innocent as he and Remus claim, it means you turned your back on him and left him to suffer, and he's still asking you to come home.

A few people stir for breakfast. Molly, who's voice you remember, and some younger sounding ones that may be her children, or perhaps the newer Order recruits. Then comes Remus’ voice. He sounds different. Less Welsh, more tired. Homely anyways as he passes your door with someone beside him.

“...any day now,” he's saying, “try not to worry.”

“I do worry. I've worried about it every day for years.”

You freeze up.

The stairs creak, Remus’ voice moving further away. “She doesn't need worrying.”

Sirius must stay at the top of the stairs for a moment. He sounds close. “I wouldn't know what she needs.”

“Come have some breakfast.”

“I'll write her again.”

“After breakfast.”

“What if she doesn't come?”

“After breakfast,” Remus insists. “She can ignore you once we've had toast.”

“I forgot how funny you are,” Sirius mutters.

Hearing his voice fills you with doubt. He sounds nothing like he used to, no easy confidence to be heard, just fatigue.

You look down at your hands. Hearing his voice has a new emotion sprouting, too. When you first learned what had happened to your friends, you felt anger like a knife everywhere you went. How could he do that to them? How could he do it to you, be that person, ruin everything you'd loved and made together? But later, when anger faded and grief ached, you'd missed the Sirius you loved. Shamefully, in longing pangs, you'd toss and turn to dreams where things were different.

Now there's a chance he might still be that person, and you're hiding from him in his own house.

“There's someone here,” Molly says as you leave your room, her voice nearly too quiet to hear from the kitchen. “Moody's told me this morning.”

“What?” Arthur asks.

“Who?” a younger voice says.

A small intermission of quiet. “Well, I don't know,” Molly says eventually, though she must have guessed it was you from the letter you sent. “But I'll need another loaf of bread. You'd better go, boys.”

“Mum,” one whines.

“Come on now.”

The stairs whimper as you descend, the bannister sticky with old gloss under your hand. Paisley wallpaper and drapes catch your eye as you pass the overflowing shoe rack. There must be more people here than you'd thought. The coat stand is similarly overloaded.

You can see into the kitchen as soon as you take the last step down. Molly stands wringing a dish cloth between her hands, two teenage boys at the kitchen table. Remus stands near her right with a cup of tea, and when he sees you, he genuinely smiles.

“Oh, good,” he says, the scar that bisects his lip pulling as he takes a sip of tea.

The teenagers turn to see you. “Bread, boys! Arthur, you can go with them," Molly says.

Arthur doesn't complain. You falter in the hallway, quiet as the trio of Weasley's leave the kitchen in their slippers to take a quiet exit from the front door. They smile politely as they go, but the boys whisper as the door shuts behind them. You wonder if they have an inkling of who you are, and then you wonder what you might say now they're gone.

Molly remains, inquisitive to know that you need privacy but also the security of her company. She was always smart like that.

“Come in, then,” Remus says.

“I–” You clear your throat. “I'm not sure I should.”

A startle of silverware against china.

Remus gives you one of his looks. It has tears threatening to well. Why didn't I fight to see him more? you think. Suddenly years have passed and he's changed, but his reassuring glances remain. It's like he's saying everything is fine, why wouldn't everything be fine? Chin up, dove.

Sirius appears in the doorway. Dark circles beneath grey eyes, his cheeks gaunt with hunger rather than the sleek sharpness he once possessed. He's still pretty, if wounded. It's as though you've found an old photo of him that's been smudged with age. He's stepped out of one of your moulding albums to haunt you.

“Angel,” he breathes, his hand clasped low on the doorway, “you're here.”

You look past him to Molly and Remus. There isn't a reality nor dimension where they'd let him stay here if they didn't believe his innocence. Remus explained it all in the letter and still you worried if he might have gotten it wrong, and simply believed what he wanted to believe, but it's not possible. Remus loved James so much, he would've killed Sirius himself if he really thought Sirius was the secret keeper who betrayed them.

So. It's a relief to be home.

You stare at him. “You look tired,” you say quietly.

“I'm fine. I am.”

He seems alright, considering. You'd even say he was handsome with his hair pushed away from his face, a dark shadow of stubble around his mouth, but he looks exhausted.

You're expecting him to say what you'd say. How could you ever think I'd do it?

Sirius was prone to similar bouts of pride, or righteousness, justice, whatever you want to call it, but he doesn't bother with that now. He looks at you as though you're the only person on earth, gaze narrowed but eyes wide, pain between his brows as he asks, “What's wrong?”

Your hand finches up to your cheek to wipe the sudden tear away. “I thought I'd never see you again.” Your Sirius.

“Don't be upset,” he pleads.

“How can I not be? I left you all alone for so long.”

He laughs roughly. “Sweetheart, what were you supposed to do?”

“Not just give up.”

“You thought it was me. That's the only thing you could've done. Either of you,” he says, gesturing backward with his hand. “It was hard… to know who to trust, at the end. It's not your fault.”

You really were only kids together, not half as in love as James and Lily, but that doesn't mean you weren't mad for each other. He looked after you. You would've had a life, you think.

“You were just gone,” you say, looking down at the floor between you, eyes tracing lines of wood grain. “Everyone. There was nobody left. And I just let you go.”

“Do you want to come here?” he asks. You lift your head. His hand is barely in front of him, fingers open, palm up.

It's like taking a stranger's hand for the first few seconds. You keep them low between you both, unfamiliar to each other. But, you find, as his fingers wrap around yours in that selfish way they used to do, squeezing rather than intertwining to make all of them fit, he remembers you.

You step a little closer, your arm to his chest, and look up at him through your lashes. It would melt him like a candle near a furnace, this look. He'd be smug or seething about something and you'd sidle in to stand between his shoes, unsure of what to say but determined to be there for him. It's the same now.

“What's wrong?” he asks under his breath.

“I left you all alone,” you repeat.

“It wasn't your choice, okay?” He smooths his free hand from your elbow to your upper arm.

Molly says something to Remus. He chuckles and says something in return. Happier to admit it if it's only for Sirius’ ears, you say, “I'm really sorry, Sirius. I miss you every day.”

“I miss you too,” he says.

You push your arms around his waist and hide your face in his chest, feeling for the lines of who he used to be, the dip of his spine in his back or the soft cotton of one of his old t-shirts. You regret hugging him at all, until he puts his arm behind your head, a shaky breath released against your crown.

I'm scared, he'd said. But I don't want you to be scared, okay? Barely twenty, he smelled of the sticky red powder on the end of matches after a night doing things he couldn't tell you about. You could tell him you loved him, and he you, but you weren't to discuss Order business. We'll be okay.

But Lily–

Everyone's going to be fine. I promise.

“You promised,” you say to yourself. Too quiet for him to hear, but he does.

“I promised you so many things I'm not sure what one you mean,” he says with a disappointed laugh.

You pull away, taking his face into two hands. “How do you feel?” you ask, ignoring the tremble working up from your wrists.

“What?” His eyes are dark.

“How are you? Did they– I mean, are you okay? Are you sick?”

“Remus has patched me up. And Cordelia, the medwitch, you know her?”

“I don't know anyone. I've been away.”

He nods sadly. “Yeah. Well, you look the same.”

“I don't.”

“You do! You look the same,” —he almost sounds happy, his lips curling into a smile— “sweetheart. Sweetheart–” He closes his eyes.

You push his hair behind his ears. “You don't look the same,” you confess, “you have wrinkles, right… here.” You touch the corners of his eyes.

“You're still beautiful.”

“Mm. You can't even see me.”

“I don't need to see you. I knew you would be.”

You rise up to kiss his cheek gently. “It's like you're back, like– like, I always felt like you were gone. And now you're home again. You are home, aren't you?”

He covers your hand with one of his. “You're here, so–”

You laugh together nervously. “Yeah, I'm here.”

“I have stuff to do to make it right.”

“Then we'll do it.”

“Okay,” he says. He swallows a breath, and wraps you in a surprisingly tight hug. “Did you read my letters?”

I don't want anything from you. Just to see you're okay.

“I read them. I'm okay. Don't I look okay?”

“You look perfect. Just like the last time I saw you,” he says. It startles you how suddenly he sounds like he did when you were young, his flirting drawl, voice velveteen.

“Not like that,” you laugh.

He pulls you as close as you can be, rough now, his arms solid around you. “I missed that,” he says, rubbing your back. “I forgot how you sound when you laugh.”

You've led very different lives. “I didn't forget yours.”

“You wouldn't. You love having things to hold against me.”

You stroke his hair. “Maybe a little.”

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writingoddess1125 · 7 months

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My Heart Breaks Pt. 2

Warning: Angst then Fluff

Buggy X FemReader

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Part 1

Replaced the Photo! Cause this was too perfect! Art belongs to Vamos_MK on twitter!!

You stared up at the blue sky with a tired sigh, finally you were free.. Over two fucking decades it had taken to escape and you did it God damn it!

For the last 20 years you had been imprisoned in the Impel Down- It had been awful yo say the least.. constantly you were trying to protect yourself and saw that the man who had sent you here had been extra cruel in doing so- well not you but the women who you took her place..

You still felt guilt in knowing she had died in your place.. but you couldnt help but be greatful she had wanted to die due to her cause in an accidental death. You hoped in her afterlife she was happy..

However death was definitely kinder then the prison- with monsters at every turn and trying to keep sex deprived prisoners from trying to have their way with you it had been a battle. You had scratched, fought and squeezed your way out of that hellhole.

After a changing of guards you had managed to slip out- unlike most of the prisoners in the Impel Down you had the enate abilies to swim so you did. Stealing a dingy that a negligent marine most likely left behind you made it out. Paddling like your life depended on it sway from that place, however you were in no position to cry in relief yet.

It was another 2 days of paddling before you manages to get to an island. Starving and dehydrated you snuck to the back end of the tiny island so no one saw your prison uniform. Stealing some berries and a pair of clothes from a small cottage you made it through the village, it was clear this place was poor- you blended in with the people who were just as hungry as you and with less berries then you had nabbed.

You went into a pub getting what you could afford, which was bread and cheese and a ale. You took these and stood outside to eat your meal which tasted no better then ash in your mouth.

Looking around you saw two better dressed men walk out of the pub, batting a poor boy on the back and laughing. Congratulating him for joining their merchant ship- catching your ear you finished your meal and drink quickly, following the men. Seeing a large ship with a line of young men wanting to join the ship for a better life and opportunity, so you join them.

Once you reached to the top of the ship, a old man held out a cane to your chest to keep you from moving forward.

"What do you want lady?-" The old Captian sneered at you, Glaring down at your dirty form.

"You're looking for sailors correct?" You say sharply, Taking a steady breath to still your nerves.

"What can a thing like you do on a ship? Do you even have sailing experience?" The Captian laughed in your face. You clenched your fist and glared hard at the asshole.

"Yes I have sailed since I was young- I can.. do cleaning and maintance" You lied a bit- not talking about your skills as a thief since this is just a merchant and not pirates like you were used to. The Captian stared at you for a moment before sighing with a shrug.

"Fine- Welcome to the May's Fairy Lady" He grumbled as he gestured for you to get on board. Sighing in relief as you had a way to sea and a income.

However that was better said then in reality-

To say the merchant ship was terrible as well had been an understatement- It was like the Impel Down all over again.. a group of touch starved and angry men who saw you as an easy target. Thankfully due to your skills you were able to evade any advances, during the day you would stay in the Lower Deck to avoid the men, cleaning and eating the stale bread and water you snagged not trusting the cook since he liked to Leer at you far too long.

At night you would travel to the Main Deck and clean up there and sleep till dawn or if the ship rocked a bit too hard. This had been your like for 3 months till one evening.

While mopping the floor of the deck you looked up at the dark sky, remembering the night with Buggy before that big heist. Grabbing him and kissing his suddently as a way to express your interest in him... your heart hurt at remembering his face when you saw him last at the bars of the window, Placing your bandana and kissing a kiss on the back of his hand.

Snapping you from your melancholy thoughs was a loud bang, seeing what looked like a firework shoot up right above you. Several crew mates from below deck also came up at hearing the noise, you watched the firework come directly on top of the ship before exploding in a cloud of red- It was beautiful. Your favorite shade of red too. The crew began to panic at seeing this as the cloud settled on the ship, you felt woozy and uneasy on your feet before you fell to the damp ground before darkness took you a large shadowy form of a ship came closer and you swore you heard circus music.

Groaning you felt yourself sitting up, a harsh digging from metal against your ankles and wrist. Jerking awake you saw you were seated in wooden benches in a dark room, Hearing the groaning and panic of others around you. You pulled at the chains slightly but winced at how tight they were.

Suddently bright lights turned on, You saw your crew chained up and seated next to you staring at a lowered stage. Your breath picking up as circus music started up, watching as different acts come up- it was almost exactly like how you remembered the show you went to in your childhood? Like someone recreating it from memory? People pulled out sighs to applaud which you saw the merchant nervously do.

"No No NO! It's wrong! That is not how a crowd should clap!" You heard a sharp voice say, walking onto the stage- He looked like a pirate Captian and not apart of the circus. You did see clown paint on his face and a red clown nose- which made your eyes narrow at the sight.

Your eyes focused on the grown man- Watching as he commanded the crowd with a twisted smile and yelled at the circus people. He sighed dramtically and looked in the direction of the crowd- chastising them for their lack of enthusiasm and not laughing with the cues. However the wind felt like it was knocked from your lungs.. You knew those eyes.. that blue hair expertly tucked away and real rounded red nose.

"Bugs?" You called out loud by accident- You saw his whole body freezes mid step. A twitch seemed to have shot through his system as your merchant crew mates all looked back at you with a mixture of pity and fear. You swallow a nervous lump as he did a slow turn in your direction, your face still clouded in shadows by the lack of lights in the audience section. Doing a silent hand movement his crewmates assended on you, yanking you from your restraints roughly and pulling you to the stage with little grace and tossing you at Buggy's feet. Rubbing your swore wrist you looked up at your childhood friend through your mess of hair.

"What the Hell Bugs? Shackles!? When the fuck do you use Mph!-" You were cut off as he grabbed your face hard tp pull you to your feet, his eyes wide and overly dilated like he was seeing a ghost. You actually felt afraid? His eyes seemed different and there was a unknown emotion behind them, you tried to wiggle free but he held you firmly taking his free hand and pushing the hair from your face fully at seeing your face you see it looks like all the air has been sucked from his lungs and he releases you quickly, you stumble back barely able to catch yourself as he stares at you with wide eyes.

"You're alive?..." He said in utter shock. You nod and cough a bit as you rub your sore jaw from his grasp. You open your mouth to speak but he holds a hand to you to silence you. His eyes looking more like what you remembered, that swirl of never ending emotions.

"Cabaji- Take her to be washed, fed and dressed. Leave her in my quarters" He commanded, the green man nodded heavily and grabbed you far gentler now to lead you off stage.

Just as instructed a group of people washed you up in a massive copper bath with nice hot water, dressed you in simple trousers and a tunic and quickly dropped you off with a plate on the end table of the large bedroom.

Seated in a massive bed you look down at the hot plate set before you, your manners thrown out the window as you tucked in. Having been far too long since you had a hot filling meal-

Without thinking you rapidly start eating it, it tasted like heaven enough for tears to well in your eyes as you ate. Before long the plate was gone- and you felt nauseous, yout mistake of eating too quickly and food you hadn't experienced in 20 years. You scrambled up to the nearest trashcan and began to vomit- so hard you didn't hear the door open. Only when a gentle hand touched your back which made you flitch and turn around to see Buggy, his eyes wide at your reaction before your body lurches and you vomited again. Buggy held your hair back this time as you vomited into the poor trashcan.

"Sorry... it's been a while since I got a hot meal" You admitted, spitting the taste of bile away from your lips as you sat back.

"It really is you" Buggy said in disbelief still, Getting down on his knees next to you as he looked over you. How you looked so unhealthy and weak- even after being cleaned he could see that abuse had done its work on you.

"Dear Gods... What happened to you?..." Buggy voice finally cracked, his hand reaching out and cupping your cheek his thumb running over the heavy bags under your eyes and the new scars that had set on your face.

"...I survived" You say softly, Leaning into his warm touch feeling tears begin to fall. In seconds Buggy held you tightly in his arms, your face pressed against his chest as ragged sobs left you, maybe it was finally being free from both jail and the hardships on that awful merchant ship but feeling Buggy's arms around you holding you close just finally released that emotional valve and you cried.. Harder then you had in your entire life into his chest.

You felt his hands smooth over your messy hair and rock you side to side as you sobbed against him. You tried to speak but sobbing nonsense was all that left you and was mumbled through Buggy's shirt.

After almost an hour of crying against Buggy you had worn yourself out, sniffling against him as he gently pulled back to look at your reddened face. His own makeup having dripped away from his red eyes- clearly he had been crying too while holding you.

He wiped your face with his gloved hand and laid kisses on your forehead to comfort you.

"You never have to just survive again... I-Im sorry (Y/N) I couldn't save you" His voice cracked at that, you shook your head.

"I-It would have been impossible. You two would have been killed..." You say with a sniffling tone, trying to control your tone and keep from crying again. Buggy asked what had happened, as you told him the story of your escape, prison time, the pain you had suffered and how you'd escaped to be hired by those merchants. He listened dead silent the whole time his hands rubbing circles in your arms to comfort you. However you saw the rage in his eyes at the pain you'd gone through.

Once done explaining yourself he nodded at this, like he was trying to find the words to explain but couldn't. Instead just giving a bitter chuckle at this, shaking his head in anger. He reached up and took off his hat with a angry sigh and tossed it aside. Your eyes catching the bandana underneath and reaching a hand out to touch the fabric.

"You kept that?.. after all these years?" You whispered confused, the anger on his face leaving as he heard this and left your touch. Reaching up and gently pulling off the old bandana for you to see.

"Of course- you gave it to me... W-When you... left. I was destroyed" He admitted, you stared at him with tears starting to fall from you again.

"I couldn't look at myself in the mirror without seeing the face that had let you down.. so I changed- I smiled for you, wore your favorite red and became Buggy the Clown"

He said with a chuckle and gestured to himself. You bit your lip to keep from crying more, he wiped your tears away with a shaky breath.

"You did that for me? Why?" You whispered, he stared at you silently before having a nervous smile.

"I love you"

His words made your heart skip- like that spark of life from when you were 15 had hit you again. Your eyes met his, he also seemed taken aback by his admittance.

"You love me?" You questioned, seeing him nervously mess with his gloves. He always did have little nervous tics like this whenever he was in a odd position, however peeling off one of his gloves to dig his nail into his palm he nodded. You reached forward and took his hand into your own to keep him from harming his hand further.

"Well I'd hope so after giving you my first kiss on that little boat"

You both giggled at this. You rubbing your thumb on his naked palm, seeing the deep scars that covered his hands- like he had dug his nails into them so many times that his palms was covered in smiley faces.

"Of course, didn't hurt it was my first kiss too" He chuckled but you winked at him.

"Don't lie, I remember the story of you and Shanks running on deck and your guys mouth smashing together. That counted" Buggy shiffered in disgust at the memory and wrinkled his face which made you laugh.

"That doesn't count!" He protest which earned more laughter from you, he smiled widely at this.

"Sooo if both of us are still interested, Would you like to continue what should have been?" You asked, giving him a blushing smile which he returned. A big Goofy grin on his face-

"Well, let's get you healthier first. What about a dinner date?" He suggested, almost giddy and you could see that same boy you once knew under that makeup again.

"Sounds perfect"

TAG LIST:

@oxbunnehxo @starsali @avatar-lover @severesongstarfish @flooftoof @lavalampskyy @blogname-18 @ven1cez

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #buggy the clown x reader #buggy one piece #buggy x reader #op buggy #captain buggy #buggy the clown #bugg

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proposalanonaita · 1 month

Text

FINE.

The date is fast approaching (seven and a half weeks left), I've had sufficient quantities of Malbec, and I'm realizing that whoever suggested that writing my vows would be MUCH more harrowing than talking about my feelings to internet nobodies.....had a fair point; I should at least attempt to put it all to words before I write the real drafts.

Ugh.

I should probably start by stating that I'm WELL aware of who I am. Rest assured, I know that I'm stunningly abrasive. And controlling. And petty, conniving, misanthropic, or whatever other adjectives you've been calling me in the tags (yes, I DID read those, and it IS weird of so many of you to be calling for my divorce. I thought you were supposed to be nicer than I am?).

All this to say, I've always been cognizant of being an acquired taste. Partly because I've always BEEN an acquired taste. I tone it down in public, and in most of my personal relationships, but I am, down to my core, a Mean Mother Fucker.

With partners before my fiancé, I had to make myself more palatable to stay together. The men I dated were FAR too nice, and snipping with them at all felt like I was a heavyweight champion facing off against a toddler. So I reigned it in. It worked, but no matter how well things were going on paper, I didn't feel like I was myself with any of them.

I was even less myself with The Shithead. I'm NOT getting into the entirety of that particular tire fire here, you little freaks already know FAR too much about me and I won't have you tagging the gory details of the worst part of my life with #bob the builder/fuzzy wuzzy or whatever you're into.

He was horrible to me, I turned dangerously timid, I'm lucky I had enough Mean left in me to get the fuck out. He's changed enough by now that I considered inviting him to the wedding, it was bad enough back then I'm very glad I didn't. Enough said.

...I'm talking quite a bit up here because I still hate having to say any of the next part. Call me an emotionless villain for that if you want to, I am far too employed and 30 to care very much.

Ugh, ugh, ugh.

So.

The thing is, there are people that KNOW me, and there are people who LIKE me. My parents know me, and I've never doubted they love me, but that's not LIKING me as a person. That's a contractual obligation of birthing me. My friends like me, some even like me when I'm catty, but I need to be careful to hold myself back, at the risk of losing them. At best, people loved "me", not ME.

For decades, this was just the way the world was. It was a fact of life- The sky is blue, I'm secretly unlovable, the Earth goes around the sun.

And then, against all odds, I found my fiancé, who manages to do both.

He sees ALL of me. Every square inch, every fleeting thought, every horrible little quirk of my rotten personality. And THEN, as if that weren't bad enough, he turns around and ENJOYS it all. He's not just tolerant of my least palatable traits, he's delighted. The more I show him, the more he likes.

It's awful. I'd say he stole my heart, but that sounds too pleasant. It's more like my heart is a cockroach he could squish at any moment, and I trust him not to, and I'm just supposed to wake up every morning and do the dishes and go to work as if this doesn't mean we're clearly orbiting Saturn. The sky is PURPLE now. What the fuck.

He could at least do me the favor of being completely, 100% perfect, because then I could blame his total lapse in judgement on that, but NO. He's a BASTARD.

I'm engaged to a big sweaty idiot who annoys me on purpose. He's terrible with his money. He tries to take me on HIKES, and JOGS, and CAMPING TRIPS. His taste in every single art form known to man is GARBAGE, he's constantly leaving his dirty socks on the floor, and he's such a bad driver I'm amazed he still has a license.

I've told him all of that to his face, and I've MEANT it, and he's just called me a bitch and asked me what I want for dinner. He knows that I'm unlovable, agrees that all those parts of me are in here, and then loves me anyway.

He loves me. He LOVES me. He loves ME.

I don't know what I'm meant to do with it all, but there's clearly SOMETHING wrong with his brain, so I guess I'll have to keep him, if only for his sake.

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nomazee · 22 days

Text

enough to make me cry

blade is your only roommate, your only friend, and your only way home from this terrible party you found yourself in.

blade x gn reader — 3.3k — college & roommates au!, very americanized college experiences, frat parties, mentions of drinking & vomiting, could be read as platonic but there are definitely romantic undertones, feelings of inadequacy/being out of place, hurt/comfort, social anxiety, blade is probably ooc i'm gonna be so honest, mild kafka & reader friendship, erggg im probably missing something

notes: no i have to be so honest blade is probably completely out of character i have not played a single side quest with him in it but i just think he has reluctant roommate-to-best friend potential and i wanted to pour that into a fic,,, this is mostly unintelligible but i did proofread! love you all

—°+..｡*ﾟ｡*ﾟ+.*.｡.—

A warm hand rests on your shoulder, and the first thing that you think is Blade’s hands are supposed to be cold.

It’s really pathetic. You’re somewhere in a stupid frat house, the thrumming of music around you. There’s the flashing colors and sounds of Mario Kart on the TV, the smell of puke (probably yours) and corona lite, and a hand on your shoulders that you’ve discerned is not your roommate, Blade’s.

Looking to the side, you follow the hand (painted, manicured nails, definitely still not Blade’s), and it leads up to an arm up to a shoulder up to a face, and—oh.

“You’re—” you pause, getting your words in order before you puke them up, “you’re Blade’s pretty lady friend?” It’s supposed to come out as a statement, but leans more to a question. She looks down, a bit of a teasing grin on her face, but her eyes are a little soft so you trust her.

“Is that what he calls me?” she jokes.

“No, I’m— I came up with that.” If you had any dignity left in you, you’d be embarrassed to admit that to her. Unfortunately, you’re pretty sure that Kafka (the pretty lady friend in question) just held your hair back and wiped your face as you puked into a frat-house toilet, flushing your dignity away with your dinner. Your eyes burn with tears and mortification, and you pray that only Kafka saw your embarrassing mishaps.

“I called him to pick you up,” she tells you, already looking away from you and scanning the room as if looking for something, or someone. “I would take you home myself, but I’ve got some things to take care of. And I’m assuming you didn't bring your keys with you?”

A quick pat-down of your pockets confirms that, yes, you somehow managed to leave your keys at home, the one personal necessity that you were supposed to bring besides your phone. Which, thankfully, you do at least have.

“Umm, the…” you mutter, tongue tangling uselessly as you try to find a way out of here without facing the impending doom of Blade’s aggravated scolding and his I told you so’s.

A week ago, you went to him with an invite to this frat party and begged him to come with you, saying something like You don’t go out much, this is your chance! He’d adamantly refused, calling it a bad idea and rolling his eyes whenever you brought it up. But you were stubborn, and you wanted to have a fun college experience, so you forced him to drive you to the party with the promise of paying for his next gas payment and getting your own ride back home at the end of the night.

“I can go,” you finally tell Kafka, mind stringing along memories and thoughts and alarm bells of get your ass home before you have to sit in an awful car ride with Blade, “It’s, like, a fifteen minute walk, don’t call him.”

“It’s a little too late for that, kid,” Kafka drawls, amusement in her words. She’s smiling down at you, and you’re reminded of how small you feel. “He’s already on the way.”

“No!” you protest, a little too loudly, but not loud enough to be heard over the thumping of music and bodies and voices. “It’s— Kafka, please, just tell him to turn around, I really don’t want him to deal with me today.”

If you knew her even less, you’d misinterpret the twitch in her expression as concern—but you’re not too dumb, so you read it as amusement. “Trust me, he’s not going to have a problem with that. You’ll be fine.”

Whatever that means. Kafka’s too cryptic for your liking, but you won’t complain. She wiped up your vomit from the dirty bathroom tiles and stayed with you to make sure you didn't get trampled, and she didn't complain about any of that. In a week, when you have enough strength to face her again, you’ll treat her to a good, expensive, flaky pastry. She seems like the kind of person who would love those.

Her phone buzzes with a text notification, and she clicks her tongue, standing up and pulling you with her. Her hand is still warm, seeping through the sleeve of your shirt as she takes you by the forearm, gentle but guiding. Your stomach churns at the thought of seeing Blade, the thought of him seeing you like this. Freshly-puked-out with a nasty stomachache all because of a party that he told you not to go to.

You hold back your protests as Kafka leads you through the still-crowded frat house. What time is it? Has nobody gotten bored yet, seriously? At least you didn't kill the mood by running to the bathroom and weeping into the toilet. It seems like nobody noticed, except for Kafka, and you don’t know if that should make you feel comforted or just more upset.

The cool air of the night hits you as you step through the front door, eyes tracking your feet as you walk down the concrete steps. You see the silhouette of Blade’s ugly blue car in your peripheral vision, but you don’t want to look up in fear of seeing the disappointment on his face so soon. He’s going to rip you a new one, and then call you a slob and kick you out of the apartment and say I can’t have a party fiend living with me even though this was your first party ever, honest.

You barely register that you’ve reached the passenger side of Blade’s car, only coming back to awareness when Kafka opens the door for you and starts nudging you into the seat. A really pathetic part of you wants to grab onto her arm and cry hard enough that she just relents and lets you walk home, but you’re already half into the passenger seat, looking everywhere but Blade.

“Take care of them, won’t you, Bladie?” Kafka commands lightly, her hand leaving your arm as you get situated and buckled up in the car. Blade lets out a little huff in response and your stomach sinks. He’s already annoyed.

The car ride to your apartment is only five minutes at this time of night. You just have to survive five minutes in silence and pray that he doesn’t tear into you and scold you like a disappointed parent. A glance at the clock on the car’s console confirms that it’s half past midnight. What the fuck. What were you even doing at the party for that long, besides vomiting and crying?

The car rumbles, exhaust sputtering a little bit as Blade pulls out from the side of the street and drives slowly, carefully, as if not to rattle you, and you really just want him to speed up and throttle the car around so you feel more guilty about waking him up in the middle of the night to come pick you up. Blade goes to bed at eleven, the latest. You can’t imagine why Kafka thought it would be a good idea to call him, of all people, but then you remember that you kind of don’t have any other friends on campus. Your chest tightens at the thought.

Blade makes some kind of sniffling noise, his way of trying to initiate some kind of conversation. There’s not even any music playing, because he always drives in dead silence because he’s abnormal, and on any other day you’d tease him about it like you always do. You see him turn his head to you in the corner of your eye, but you refuse to acknowledge him. You wish he’d just start scolding you, yelling at you or something.

Tears prickle behind your eyes, painfully so, but your hands tighten around each other in your lap as you will yourself to not cry like a baby in front of your roommate. He lets out another sigh, but it doesn’t sound angry, just tired, and somehow that makes you feel worse.

“What were you guys even drinking?” is his question of voice, and it’s the one question you didn't want him to ask, and you can’t help it when the tears spill over and you bring your hand up to wipe them away frantically, hiccuping a little bit as your gut churns.

“What—” Blade stutters, and he never stutters, and you see him whip his head around to look at you, crying into your hands over a simple question, and you just want to leave the car and walk home like you told Kafka you would do. He pulls over to the side of some residential street. There’s a dog barking in a yard and wind chimes clinking together, and you think of your handmade bottle cap wind chime hung in the balcony of yours and Blade’s apartment, and it just makes you cry more.

The car comes to a full stop. Blade puts it in park and turns completely to you. You spare a quick glance at him through the gaps between your fingers, and there’s something like worry on his face, which you’ve never seen before. His face is pinched, lips parted as if wanting to say something, but he can’t. He’s waiting for you.

“I didn't drink anything, Blade,” you sob, feeling miserable at the state of yourself, at how you went to a frat party with nobody you knew and just walked around like a lost child, too scared to drink or talk to anyone, too anxious to say a word. “Not even a shot, or a sip, nothing from the fridge. It was so stupid, you were right, okay? It was a stupid idea, and I shouldn’t have gone.” Your breath catches in your throat, and the car is dead quiet as Blade lets your words sink in.

You try not to make so much noise when you cry, but you’re sniveling and wiping your face and wishing that he would just stop looking at you like that. You can still see the ruby-red of his eyes even when you can’t bear to look up at him, and it makes you so viscerally upset.

Blade is beautiful, really, and it makes you so upset that he looks better than you right now despite him being dragged right out of bed by Kafka’s phone call with a request to pick you up just minutes ago. You, who spent hours selecting an outfit, just to feel inadequate and wholly ugly the minute you walked through the door. It felt like you were back in middle school, spending hours with your parents picking out an outfit to a school dance, looking through ties and pants and shoes, just to show up and feel both overdressed and underdressed, feel like a fool, feel like you just can’t look the way everyone else does. Like something is always a little wrong.

“Kafka said that you got sick. You didn't drink anything? You’re sure?”

“No,” you confirm pitifully, wanting him to just drop the topic and drive the rest of the way home and never talk about this again. “I was just anxious, and I puked like an idiot. Kafka helped me, she was the only one that I knew at the party. I don’t know. I don’t remember anymore. I was just anxious.”

He says your name, not unkindly, but with a prying tone that just makes a fresh wave of tears stream down your face in rivulets. “Why would you go if you didn't know anyone?”

“I don't know!” you shout, heated with embarrassment. You’re acting like a child, throwing a tantrum and crying and shouting in Blade’s car. The seatbelt is too tight on you. You fiddle with it, pulling it from the juncture of your neck and shoulder and loosening it, scratching your bitten nails against the scratchy cloth and looking out of the car window so that you can avoid Blade’s awful, terrible, intrusive gaze.

“I just wanted to be normal, or something. I don’t know anybody from any of my classes. I don’t talk to anyone from my major. And then I got the invite for the party somehow and I just thought it would be fun. I don’t know, Blade, I know I should’ve listened to you, I’m sorry.”

“Stop,” he says firmly, fully turned to you now, as if he wants you to look back at him, to listen to whatever he’s going to say, and that’s the one thing you don’t want to do. You hate that he’s being kind. You wish he’d be sarcastic and mean and cruel, bite into you and feed off your self-pity. But he’s being nice, nice in the same way that he’s nice when he buys the right brand of milk for you (because the others make you sick, and the taste is different), or when he drives you places in his car when it’s raining so that you don’t have to take the buses everywhere, or when he comes home with your ridiculous coffee order that costs a hellacious amount of money with all of your substitutions and additions and flavorings.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he says resolutely, leaving no room for argument, “Just— I didn't know you were feeling like that. I would’ve gone with you if you told me you needed someone. I assumed you were going with a friend.”

You don’t respond with I don’t have any friends, because you’re pretty sure that’s clear enough by now, and you don’t want to confirm what’s already been confirmed a million times over just from the way you act. The way you cling to yours and Blade’s apartment, the way you never spend a second longer than you need to in any of your classes, the way that sometimes, when Blade goes out for class or work, you sit on the couch in silence with your laptop out, doing your work for the week and checking the clock and taking naps so that you don’t have to feel so alone for so long.

“You didn't want to go,” you say instead, “I wasn’t going to make you just because I’m— I don’t know.”

“I would’ve gone for you,” he tells you, really tells you, with a force in his words, like he wants to drive the point into you with a stake, driven right through your heart. “I would do a lot of things if you asked. You just need to ask.”

You don’t— you really don’t want to think about what that means. What he means. You rip your eyes away from the car window and turn to face him. He’s not too close. You almost wish he could be closer, but you would suffocate under the pressure in your stomach and behind your eyes.

He shouldn’t say things like that, things like You just need to ask, because you’d ask for a lot if given the chance. You’d ask for him to come to parties with you, stay by your side, let you put a hand on his shoulder and guide him around another disgusting frat house as if you know what you’re doing. You’d ask him to sleep in the same bed as you some nights, just a foot away from each other, backs turned to each other but still close enough that you can feel the unnatural coldness that radiates off of Blade.

You’d ask him to introduce you to Kafka and that other girl they hang out with, to say something stupid and funny like This is my abhorrent roommate, be nice to them, and that way you’d have more contacts in your phone that aren't just Blade and your parents and two old high school friends who you haven’t spoken to in a year. You’d ask him to be a lot more than just a plus-one to a party full of people you’ve never met.

“I just want to go home,” you breathe out, a guilty confession burning your gums and leaving a sour taste in your mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying sorry,” he asserts for the second time tonight, making your lungs squeeze as you puff out a tired exhale. Blade turns back in his seat, taking the car out of park and heading back onto the road—driving slowly, yet again, avoiding cracks and potholes in the road. “You need to eat something. You’ll wake up with a hellish headache if you go to bed dehydrated.”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

“I said it, so it’s true,” he says petulantly, turning the car down into a road that’s definitely not in the direction of your apartment building. To your hidden delight, the glowing sign of a twenty-four-seven ice cream store comes into view, and you sit up just a little bit. Blade slows the car as he turns into the drive-thru, glancing at you with an eyebrow half-raised.

“What do you want? I’ll order for you.”

“I don’t have my wallet,” you admit, just a little bit embarrassed. “I didn't even bring my keys with me. Do you think they take Apple Pay?”

A breathy laugh escapes him, and you catch sight of a dimple pressed into his cheek, and you want to press your thumb into it and look at his smile, just for a little longer. “Don’t be dumb. I’m paying,” he tells you, the same way he has every time he pays for your cafe drink, or when he comes home from work with your favorite, and says You’re broke enough without having to pay for these drinks, don’t pay me back in that snippy way he shows his care.

You ask for a medium vanilla milkshake, with sprinkles, and he gets you a large instead, which you’re more than grateful for. He refuses to let you look at the receipt for the total cost, and hands you the milkshake with a comical severity that you often see in him. The sweet drink washes away any bitter taste left in your mouth, and you feel a little better, a little nicer in your haphazard party outfit and under Blade’s fleeting gaze.

A deep sigh escapes you, one of relief, when the car finally parks at your apartment building. Blade puts a cold hand between your shoulder blades, unobtrusive and leading, and it’s a comforting contrast from the heat lingering on your skin from the party and the closed car. It feels right, more in-place than Kafka’s warm hands were when she wiped your face and kept you steady, though she was just as gentle.

Blade all but tosses you onto the couch, claiming that it’s much too late for a shower and he’d rather not deal with you collapsing from exhaustion in the tub. You relent easily, the exhaustion of the night hitting you and soaking into your limbs.

“I’ll let you sleep on the couch,” he says, and it’s a good and kind thing, because he knows that sometimes you hate your bedroom because it’s just too empty, and the constant sound filtering into the living room puts you at ease. He never lets you sleep on the couch, because it’s bad for your back, and he jokes about you developing adult onset scoliosis with the awful way you sleep. Letting you do it, just this once, is another one of his small mercies.

The TV is on, humming at a low volume, and your legs are thrown across Blade’s lap. You’re shocked that he’s willing to fall asleep with you like this, but he’s kind, sarcastic and biting but kind all the same, as much as he loathes to admit it. It’s not too lonely, you decide, hearing the bottle cap wind chimes on your balcony clink together in dissonant harmonies.

(There’s a missing text from a new contact on your phone when you wake up, coming from pretty lady friend, extending an invite to brunch in two days, and you kick your legs on the couch in giddy excitement, thinking about how you’ll rope Blade into coming with you, too.)

—°+..｡*ﾟ｡*ﾟ+.*.｡.—

taglist: @tragedy-of-commons

(pssst!!! send me a msg or fill out the form in my navi to be added to the taglist!!!)

#blade x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #blade hsr x reader #hsr blade x reader #hsr ren x reader #thats his name right..........#blade x you #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #begging myself to write something under 1k next time #i miss when i had the ability to write short drabbles instead of behemoths #i say this as if i don't have a supernatural blade fic thats already 5k and not even halfway done #THATS the real behemoth #he's so out of character here forgive me #i just like his pretty face #me writing about a frat party when i have yet to even touch the vicinity of a party house

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munsonfamilyband · 4 months

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Just had the most ooey gooey platonic stobin thought (featuring, as always, steddie)

Just, years after everyone has left Hawkins. The kids all graduated and have gone on to college. Nancy has her degree and is working her way very quickly up the ranks of the paper she works at. Jonathan got a job with Nat Geo somehow (though no one is surprised). Robin is working at some kind of archive, sorting and translating and transcribing and she loves every second of it.

Eddie and Steve live in the apartment right next to hers. At first it was awful, both because she hated having a wall between her and Steve, even with the balconies that they managed to connect somehow, and because their bedroom shared a wall with hers and they were so LOUD. Over time it got easier, her and Steve still were weirdly connected and Eddie woke up with a surprise third person in their bed multiple times a week but he knew she was a bonus when he asked Steve out.

Eddie got a job working as a tattoo artist (he convinced Steve to get one, but he only agreed to any tattoos that had a pair on someone else so he and Robin have matching anchors and ice cream scoops and he and Eddie have a little bat wearing a crown).

Steve struggled his way through school and got a job as an elementary school teacher. He comes home covered in glue and paint and glitter multiple times a week and has complained about ruining so many sweaters but he adores his kids and his job.

The night they get engaged Steve had just come home from the first parent-teacher conferences of the new year and he was barely standing up. He was carrying the italian Eddie had told him he ordered on his way home and when he got inside their apartment he was almost too tired to notice all the lights being off and all of their candles lit.

Almost.

Steve froze and then kept putting his stuff away, calling out for Eddie. He finally found him in their bedroom (that no longer shared a wall with Robin’s), where Eddie was bouncing on his toes and twirling a small box in his hands.

Robin didn’t know what was going on when she heard Steve scream… something, she couldn’t really tell because it almost sounded like he was crying. Her Bestie Alarms immediately went off at the sound of Steve Tears but as she opened her balcony door to go check on him, he was already there. Tears still falling, hand shoved into her face, and the biggest smile she had ever seen him make.

It took less than 5 seconds for her to recognize the new ring on Steve’s hand and then they were both screaming and crying and hugging each other. (They were also ignoring Eddie yelling from their balcony to give his fiance back).

A few months passed and Steve and Eddie had started planning their wedding. Robin was nervous, she was waiting for Steve to ask her to be his maid of honor or something and she wanted to, she did. But she was also terrible at planning big events and she didn’t think she could handle all the pressure of having to plan showers and parties and getting things organized the day of. She wanted to be in Steve’s wedding more than anything, but she did NOT want to be in his wedding party and she was terrified of telling him that.

When Steve and her were at lunch one day and he said he had something to ask, she started panicking. She had barely been listening but she did catch a word she wasn’t expecting.

Officiate.

Steve told her that he wanted her to officiate his wedding. He said that he knew she would have hated being best man (the way he didn’t said maid of honor didn’t make her love him more, it didn’t) because of all the planning but he needed her to be part of his wedding. She was great at giving speeches, rambling included, and he couldn’t think of anyone he would rather have perform his wedding.

They both cried and then got kicked out of the chinese restaurant.

When the time came, Robin stood at the “altar” that the kids had helped make. It was covered in flowers and twinkling lights and it looked beautiful.

That day, being able to be the one to help her best friend get married, was the best day of her life.

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #platonic stobin #robin buckley #period hormones got me fucked up thinking about robin officiating steves wedding #eddie and steve had to do a coin toss for who got dustin #(eddie won)#(steve was okay with this because then he got to ask max)

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mellowsadistic · 1 month

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The Magician's Game - Chapter 13

Becky’s New Life

Becky awoke from her midafternoon nap, and was immediately assaulted by the strong smell of baby powder, pee, and something yuckier. Every time she woke up, she prayed that everything she’d gone through with the Magician had all been some terrible dream, but when she opened her eyes, it was to see the white bars of her crib in front of her face, and the daycare’s naptime room beyond. It was a sight she’d become very familiar with over the last few months.

She got to her hands and knees, her bare breasts dangling beneath her, and felt her diaper droop heavily between her legs, almost brushing the plastic mattress cover of her cot. She screwed up her face in disgust and shame. She felt as though she was trapped in a nightmare. This was who she was now; an overgrown baby who filled her nappies in her sleep like a one-year-old. It wasn’t the first time it had happened. In fact, some of her former colleagues at the daycare had even made sure to capture it on video, so they could force her to watch her sleeping self lift her bottom into the air and start packing her oversized Pampers while they tittered. None of them liked her – they remembered how dismissive she’d been of their careers, the ones for whom it was more than just a Summer job, and how haughty and harsh she’d been with the children. In their minds, she was getting exactly what she deserved.

Becky got awkwardly to her feet, seething with anger. She hated all of them! How dare those stupid bitches treat her like this just because she hadn’t wanted to spend the rest of her life wiping poopy bottoms! Tears welled up in her eyes. At least it would’ve been better than spending her days getting her own poopy bottom wiped by somebody else… Even after months in diapers, she still hadn’t got used to them. She was starting to think she never would.

One of the daycare staff came over once they saw her standing up in her crib. Erica. Becky felt her spirits sink even lower. They were around the same age, and they’d hated each other when they’d been colleagues. Erica was nothing short of delighted at Becky’s fate. “Finally up from your nap, hmm?” she smirked. “We thought you might stay asleep all day, Beckers! It’s one of your favourite things to do now, isn’t it? Napping? Right up there with going to the toilet in your pants.”

Becky clenched her fists in fury, but did her best to keep her expression blank. She was desperate to get out of her messy nappy, and Erica wouldn’t change her if she was rude. “Please…” she began, but then she saw Erica’s raised eyebrows and realised her mistake. “I mean, pwease Miss Ewica! Baby Becky made a boom-boom! Can I have a clean nappy to poop in?”

Erica laughed nastily. “Oh no, Becky-poo, I don’t think so,” she cooed, her eyes glinting maliciously. “That was very cute, but you’ve only just made a stinky while you were napping! That diapee can hold an awful lot more. What was it you always said? What’s the point in changing the little brats when they’re just going to crap their pants again in a few minutes anyway?”

Becky whimpered.

“Come on, baby-butt,” Erica said, lifting her out of the crib with a grunt of effort and carrying her out of the naptime room and over to a corner where all the daycare’s other charges, her equals, were playing with blocks and dolls and toy cars and stuffed animals. “It’s playtime now,” said Erica. “You can have a nappy change later.” She plopped Becky down on her full diaper, making her groan in disgust.

Another daycare worker came over, a slightly older woman. Harriet was kinder than Erica, but she was no less pleased by where Becky had ended up. She looked down at the twenty-year-old woman on the floor with a patronising smile. “I see this little one’s done naptime potty-poos!” she chuckled. “You’re such a little stinker, aren’t you Becky?”

“Yes, Miss Hawwiet,” Becky lisped. She didn’t have much choice but to answer. Ignoring their questions was the fastest way to earn her a red bottom. The daycare didn’t normally allow corporal punishment, but they made a special exception for her, and most of the staff were constantly looking for any excuse to take her over their knees and spank her to tears. She didn’t know who was worse; Erica, who taunted her constantly about how far she’d fallen, or Harriet, who treated her like she really was just a silly little two-year-old.

Becky played with the stupid toys for what felt ages, closely supervised by Harriet, doing her best to keep her mind off the load in her pants. At last, lunchtime came around. The horrible baby food was nothing to look forward to, but at least it was a break from the monotony of playing with mind-numbing baby toys, and every second was a step closer to getting out of her messy nappy. Harriet led her over to a row of highchairs on one side of the room, where she was lifted up and crammed into the seat.

“Miss Hawwiet, pwease can I have-” she began, but Harriet interrupted her, anticipating her question.

“You can have a change after num-nums, Becky,” she said firmly.

Becky hung her head meekly and allowed herself to be fed spoonful after spoonful of mashed up peas and carrots.

“There’s a good girl!” Harriet cooed in a high-pitched, stomach-churning baby voice. “That’s a good baby! Little miss stinky-bum loves her nummy-nums, doesn’t she? Yes she does! Yes she does!”

Once she’d gone through several jars of baby food, the nipple of a large bottle was popped into her mouth, and Becky started guzzling down the milk within. Harriet held her bottle for her – she was considered far too immature to do it by herself. She hadn’t even held a knife and fork in months, not that they would have been much use to her when all her food went through a blender before it touched her lips.

Becky was halfway through her bottle when she started to wet herself. Instinctively she tried to clamp down on the flow, hoping that this time, somehow, her continence might have returned. But nothing happened. Warm pee soaked her already wet naptime diaper. Her oversized Pampers were now full of so much wee-wee that she could feel it pooling beneath her, unable to be absorbed by the thoroughly sodden padding. It felt almost as bad as the disgusting mess squishing against her bottom.

Finally, with her stomach full to burst with baby food and formula, Becky finished her lunch. Harriet lifted her out of her highchair and carried her over to one of the many changing tables that lined one wall of the room. “Erica!” she called, depositing Becky on the changing table. “Would you mind changing Becky’s nappy? I need to see to the other babies.”

“No problem!” Erica called back. She came over with a sneer on her face. “Hi, Becky-wecky,” she taunted, once Harriet had left. “Somebody definitely needs a diapee change,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “What a yucky little girl you are, Becky! Always pooping your pants. You used to hate changing messy nappies so much. How does it feel wearing them yourself, knowing that you’ll never use a toilet again?”

Becky couldn’t look her in the eyes. She could feel tears welling up inside them.

Erica pushed her onto her back and started undoing the tapes of her diaper. She gave the front a quick little rub as she did so. “Crinkle, crinkle!” she teased. “Do you remember what it was like to have a man touch you down here?” She laughed. “Do you even remember what it was like to wear panties? You are quite pretty – I bet you had no trouble getting guys. But those days are over now, aren’t they Becky? No more boyfriends for you. The best you can hope is for a handsome daycare worker to change you!”

Becky started to cry.

“Awww,” cooed Erica, her tone mockingly sweet. “Poor wittle thing. Does baby Becky-wecky miss being a gwown-up? Does she miss wearing big girl clothes and eating adult food and having people talk to her like she’d not two years old? Does she wish she could use the potty again instead of doing all her pee-pees and poo-poos in her pants?”

Becky cried even harder, until Erica took a large pink dummy out of her apron pocket and shoved it into her mouth.

“There we go!” she said happily. “That will shut the baby up.” Then she pulled down the front of Becky’s nappy and lifted her legs into the air by her ankles. “This is where you belong, Becky,” she said, wiping at the woman’s messy bottom with one wet wipe after another. “On your back, legs up, getting your dirty diaper changed. I can’t think of a more perfect way for you to spend your life!”

Becky wailed like an infant as Erica finished wiping, powdering, and changing her bottom into a clean, dry nappy. Once the final tape was in place, Erica picked her up once again and carried her back through to the naptime room to deposit her in her crib, this time for her afternoon nap.

“Night-night, Becky-poo!” Erica said, patting her firmly on her padded bottom before she left. “See you when you wake up!”

Still sniffling, Becky buried her face in her pillow and quickly felt herself drifting off. She’d taken so many naps now that her body was used to it. Her eyes fluttered shut, and just as she drifted off to sleep, her bowels lurched into life once more, so that she could go through it all again. And again and again and again, until her adult mind finally broke forever, and she was left as a drooling, pants-filling baby for the rest of her days.

#mellowsadistic

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writeforfandoms · 3 months

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A Lonely Place - 1

Find my Soap masterlist

My first entry for the SoapItUp challenge by @glitterypirateduck - I used the prompt "Don't move" for this chapter.

This is set in the same universe as my Gaz zombie fic "Little Talks", but you don't have to read that to understand this. This starts six months later.

Reader is female and described as American, no other descriptors used.

Warnings: Zombie apocalypse, swearing, canon typical violence, alcohol mention.

Word count: 1.6k

You shifted your pack on your back, resisting the urge to groan. You'd been walking most of the day, you were tired and sore, and you wanted nothing more than to find a safe place to collapse for the night.

Fortunately, you could see a building up ahead.

It didn't take long to clear the area - no infected around, no bodies either. Which wasn't all that surprising. You weren't sure where exactly you were, but this was the first building you'd seen in a while.

The door creaked as you pushed it open, and you winced at the noise. But when you looked, you still didn't see any movement around.

Good enough.

Your pack thumped against the floor, and you took a few moments to stretch out your neck and shoulders, hoping to alleviate some of the constant ache. Next was some food - you were running low, hopefully you'd find more soon. You chewed while you cleared the rest of the house, checking for anything useful as you did.

No weapons. Of course. But some of the clothes would work, including a thick jacket. That would be helpful - the weather was already turning cold, and you couldn't exactly jog down to the nearest store to buy more. Socks were always handy, too.

You brought your new loot down to your pack, humming a little as you carefully re-packed things.

One more perimeter check, because you didn't want to leave anything to chance, found you outside just before sundown. You shaded your eyes against the light, admiring the splashes of color across the sky, even as you checked the ground for movement.

You had just turned to go back inside when you heard the engine.

It took a moment to register what you were hearing. It had been a long time since you'd heard a car. Since before the end, really. Your head swiveled towards the sound, eyes wide.

A car! Someone had a car! They could–

Well. They could do all kinds of things, possibly. Not all of those things were good.

So you went back inside, hunkering down near a window to watch outside. The car, a big SUV, rolled down the road outside, slow enough to you guessed the inhabitants were looking for infected. Or survivors.

You were suddenly very glad you had come back inside, and had no lights.

The car rolled on out of sight and you breathed out in relief. Good enough for you.

You used the last of the light to knit, working on the sweater again. Sure, you'd found the big jacket, but it never hurt to have layers available. You weren't sure what to expect from winter in this part of the world.

The night passed quietly, and you were on your way again the next day, knitting once again securely tucked away. This spot wasn't bad - maybe you'd come back, after you found some supplies.

Like food.

With a soft groan, you shouldered your pack and followed the road. That was your best bet to find more food.

Walking by yourself was, quite honestly, boring. You'd seen so much of this damned country by now that the sights no longer inspired awe, and the way your feet ached from constantly being on the move didn't exactly make you want to stop and sight see. You'd learned the hard way that knitting while walking was a terrible idea.

Which left you with time to think, and lots of it.

You still weren't quite sure what you were doing, not really. You just knew that you were stranded on a different continent, unable to go home, unwilling to trust anyone enough to get close.

Not after last time.

You got lucky - there was a town less than a full day's walk from the house. Everything looked silent and deserted, signs long gone dark. A liquor store door was smashed in, glass precariously littering the ground.

You avoided the glass as best you could, all too aware of the potential noise, and crept inside. This place had probably been looted, but you could hope…

You didn't find much. Some chips that had been overlooked and a half-empty bottle of scotch.

You took it with you.

The rest of the town was just as quiet, and you went through all the stores. Most of them were empty, looted.

But you struck metaphorical gold. One store had a stash of yarn tucked away in the back, in the office. You nearly did a little happy dance. That would come in handy.

You were stuffing the third skein in your bag when you heard the shuffling. You froze.

Silence for long moments. Long enough that you wondered if you'd imagined it. Then the shuffle came again, the scrape of a shoe across the floor.

You swallowed hard, hands shaking a little as you closed your bag. The zipper made almost no noise as you pulled it closed so, so slowly.

There was a back door, you'd seen it past the office. You could get out that way.

You took one step out of the office, hands clenched so tightly around your bag that they ached.

The wet thunk of something, or someone, being hit hard nearly made you startle. The soft swear that followed it was no better.

“Nice kill,” a soft, masculine voice murmured.

You shuddered at the wet squelch, like a knife being removed from a piece of meat. Okay. Probably two of them, at least. Maybe more.

Time to hit the road.

You moved down the hall as silently as you could, pausing in front of the back door. One deep breath in helped steady you, at least long enough for you to shove the door open.

A shout behind you made you move, booking it out of the building. You spared a wild moment to look, searching for the nearest good hiding place, and then ran for the trees.

Maybe you could lose them in the trees, or they'd decide you weren't worth the trouble.

That notion didn't last long. Only as long as it took to be tackled to the ground. You fell with a yelp, hitting the ground hard.

“Got a runner,” came the voice from the person perched on your back. A man, you guessed from the voice. Local, from the accent.

“Get off!” You tried to twist out from under him, heart beating hard, nearly panicking.

“Don't move.” Something firm pressed against the back of your shoulder. Kind of rectangular. Hard.

Your blood went cold at the implication. A weapon of some kind. Possibly a gun. You stilled, though you were still breathing fast, gaze darting around for any possible escape route.

“Let her up, Soap.” A pair of boots planted firmly in your vision. The weight lifted from your back suddenly, unexpectedly. It took you a moment to push back up to your feet, a little wobbly, pack clutched to your chest.

Two men stood in front of you, both armed. One wore a kind of bucket hat, while the other had a mohawk, gone a little shaggy. They were both imposing, and your shoulders curled in.

“What are you doing skulking around here?” The hatted one asked, eyes a little narrowed as he visibly sized you up.

You thought about being snarky, you really did. But fear won out. “Looking for food.”

He blinked, just once. “Sounds like you're on the wrong side of the pond.”

You grimaced. He wasn't the first to point out your obviously American accent, but it still didn't feel friendly. “I was on vacation,” you answered shortly, looking down, fingers tightening on your pack. “When it all started.”

They were both silent for a few long moments before the mohawked one stepped forward. “Mind if Ah look in yer pack?”

You eyed him. If you said no, he'd probably take it by force. “Just… be careful, please.” You held out your pack, trying to hold back your nerves.

He nodded, taking the bag and taking a look through it. “Hate to tell ye, bonnie, but ye cannae kill infected with yarn.” He shot you a grin, clearly amused.

You huffed, warming with some mixture of embarrassment and indignation. “Of course not,” you grumbled. “But you know what I can do with yarn? Make a sweater.”

He looked at you again, assessing, before he handed your bag back. “How long ye been on yer own?”

You shifted your weight from foot to foot. “I mean… It's… been a while.”

He looked back to the hatted man, and the two seemed to have a silent conversation. Two more men came out the back door you'd used, walking over to join the little meeting. Your gaze flicked between all of them, nerves rising the longer their little conference lasted.

“Right,” the hatted one said with a sigh, looking at you. “Come with us.”

“Why?” You pulled back a little, clutching your pack to your chest.

“We've got supplies,” the Scottish one volunteered. “Safe place to stay.”

You eyed them warily. Sure, they could be telling the truth… but there was a good reason you didn't trust people anymore.

“Here.” One of the newcomers stepped forward, pulling out a bigass knife. He flipped it easily, hilt towards you. “Any of us try to hurt you, you defend yourself, yeah?”

You took the knife slowly, fingers curling around the hilt. It wasn't a lot, but it did make you feel better. You breathed in deep, looking between them all. The Scottish one looked kind of hopeful.

“Okay,” you finally agreed, cautiously hopeful. “I'll go with you.”

#soapitup #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x you #f!reader

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starberry-cupcake · 4 days

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I'm back! Thank you so much for your patience and your kind messages and comments ♥ you are so nice about my silly ramblings, I appreciate it a lot.

previously, on harrowsoup the ninth:

this happened

also I posted this and this as previews and this is the whole tag

currently, chapters 23-26:

"an atmosphere of greater unease had settled over the mithraeum"

aka the emperor's bolthole

btw, no kidding, harrow, I hadn't noticed the unease

so, harrow asks around about the herald situation

I have another deck with dragon heralds but I'm not gonna go on a card tangent this time (you're welcome)

everyone gives terrible and useless descriptions

emperor johnny boy says "Whenever they come I am bundled off to a sealed sanctum at the heart of the Mitrhaeum, so that their insanity can't touch me"

asshole coward awful man

harrobean is trying to ask why emperor asshat is so sure about her having to die and if there's no way she can make it

emperor johnny says yandere twin isn't that good at being a lyctor yet, even if she's surprising and that if he was still giving silly names, he'd name her "Saint of Awe"

harrow thinks "that had not quite suited Naberius"

get perpetually owned, chad

harrow also mentions not being able to remember things well

YOU THINK, HARROW?

"it was as though your brain had formed a scab over everything that had happened to you"

I don't think that scab is healing well

emperor johnny insists on the rapier

idk why they all insist on the rapier

gideon and camilla didn't like it and were the fucking best cavaliers ever

ARE, THEY ARE THE BEST CAVALIERS EVER

PRESENT TENSE

but anyway, at this point, it could very well be emperor johnbro has aesthetic demands

not like he'll explain anything

harrowbean sees not!dulcinea's door closed, which isn't usual

she second guesses a bit because she can't always trust what she sees and she remembers crux saying "you saw what you saw, Lady, and the only thing you control now is your reaction thereto"

I didn't like that old man, but that's pretty cool of him to say

harrow opens the door and sees this

alleged gideon the first aka ortus tells harrow to go away very calmly and in a way that is too nice for him, apparently

harrow is upset at the display in front of her salad and goes to complain to yandere twin

which is a terrible place to complain at because she's both into gossip and into kink

if you want someone to take this seriously, that's the last place to go to

"at least you know who's been moving her—so to speak"

this is what we get combining yandere twin and chad

I've used that gif twice for her already

I forgive her, though, because she says "god is a dickhead" and she's right

she also asks harrow to try to remember why emperor john god has given her the sword

and establishes that harrow previously did something to her jaw so that she couldn't tell her

that's going in the 3d model

CHAPTER 24

apparently people are being less mean to harrowbean because they're already mourning her

harrow says that alleged gideon the first aka ortus has the name ortus because "it was just a banal and uncomfortable coincidence, as though he'd carried the name of a dead childhood pet"

she believes that the name must have caught on in the ninth because anastasia must have like brought it in and named people after her pal

I think he's named gideon

and that our gideon is named after him because of direct relationship of some capacity, maybe to someone involved

I considered the mom, but it's uncertain

in any case, he has to die

so, harrow puts a lot of wards and safety things in her room

kind of like this

home alone styling it

but apparently alleged gideon the first aka ortus can bypass wards

much like the sleeper/waker

much like not!dulcinea

wards are basically pointless, I guess, at this point

so he goes into her bathroom when she's bathing because here in the emperor's bolthole, everyone's a disrespectful asshole

harrowbean says he's "a thanergy void" and "the ultimate nemesis of a bone adept"

he tries to kill her while she's looking like this

I want to give this child some cocoa and play a comfort movie for her, like "the bone collector"

she ended up using the teeth she lost in the fight as projectiles in his eyes and got him to leave

she ended up bloody, unmoving, wet, naked and collapsed on the ground to which yandere twin live reacted to and left

she could have given her a hand

or an arm

she decided alleged gideon had to die and ice cube barbie aka probably annabel lee agreed

when gideon was among us, there was not enough time for her to throw hands at people and here there's so many people she could be throwing hands at and she's not here to do so

camilla too, but camilla threw hands at martita in a way that was legendary enough

CHAPTER 25

harrow goes with the chisme to dr reverend professor emperor john

she says "I swear by the Locked Tomb"

to which he replies "I wouldn't swear by that in this instance"

which I sure hope doesn't mean anything nasty with my girl ice cube barbie annabel lee because I'm gonna kill this man

she might not be entirely alive (maybe she is, maybe she's just suspended or something) but she deserves better than this piece of work

then he says "well, that's unfortunate"

this man really knows how to handle a situation, huh

emperor john says that it's pretty unlikely that alleged gideon the first aka ortus was doing the dirty with not!dulcinea because he never showed interest before and is "legendarily unamorous"

that's another tshirt I need

I need that one and the witch one immediately

also, now we've got a problem

not just because my telenovela about how this man might or might not be related to our gideon got more convoluted

but also because if alleged gideon is aroace, I'm gonna have to stan

I don't make the rules over here, I have to stand by my people

I have a conflict of interest now

emperor john also says "you must think us all a depraved set of immortal criminals"

I mean yes, I do, but not because of sexy times with zombies

I'm not here to judge the sexytimes of necromancers and whatever they do in their spare time

I don't know the intricacies of consent with ghosts or whatever, I can't be imparting judgment

it's not that, emperor john

it's because you're unpleasant war criminals who are killing planets for fun

well, the war criminal part I don't have hard evidence on rn but the situation doesn't seem to be in the favor of these people

I feel like when this man talks about the overall situation I'm getting a speech from emperor palpatine

emperor reverend john asks harrow, who has been awake for 25 years, to go to sleep

yeah, sure, she should go to sleep and wait for this guy to come by and try to kill her for the millionth time

meanwhile, harrowbean keeps collecting hours without sleep like

she makes, at the request of emperor camp counselor john, soup for everyone

I don't remember if it was here or before and I forgot but, this is extremely important

they mentioned cassiopeia being the one who cooked before

cassiopeia the same one with the ceramics collection, if I'm remembering correctly

cassiopeia who was also from the sixth, I think

camilla's house

she's checking every single one of my boxes like a sniper

why isn't she here, we're stuck with the grumpy one and the senior chad

ANYWAY, at the mention of harrow cooking I thought, immediately, "that's an awesome way to kill this guy"

I was picturing more like a poison type situation, although I didn't know how that could be achieved

something like this

but I should have known poison was too subtle for harrowcita

like I established back when protozoa's head was found in her closet, subtle isn't harrow's style

so it was more like this

basically, harrow sectioned her tibia to put some in the soup and then she could necrobend it so that it attacked from the inside

if I'm getting it right

insane plan and I love it

emperor john shadyman says "ten thousand years since I've eaten human being, Harrow, and I didn't really want an encore."

were they snacking on people during the Resurrection???

did they kill people by making lunch?????

???????????????????????????????????????????

"you think we're bad because we have sexy times with ghoulies?? uwu" that's the least of my concerns johnny john man

harrow then breaks down and asks straight to his face WHY THE FUCK MUST SHE SUFFER LIKE THIS

she calls herself a nonsense

the only nonsense here is what this emperor man speaks

she tells him she hasn't slept in six days

for a sleep deprived plan, it was excellent tbh

emperor man over here asks yandere twin to take her to sleep

and then stays with mercygirl to whom he says it's insane that harrow could do what she did and how did mercygirl miss that

this is the situation, as I have previously established

augustine looks at harrow "as if he had seen the ghost of someone he did not particularly like"

alleged gideon the first aka ortus salutes her on her way out

he doesn't even have heartburn

CHAPTER 26

we're back on gideon-less canaan house because it's time for more people to die

in ways that make 0 sense at all for what we know so far

regina george twin is pushed to her death by mayonnaise uncle

sounds fake to me

like, come on

regina george twin can probably murder that feeble guy on sight

we saw her spar with gideon, she wanted to be the cav that chad ended up being

she might not be a necro but she can stand her ground in a physical fight

mayonnaise uncle without duracell bunny nephew is like a sweaty guy on an anime con complaining about girls ruining everything while buying a maid figurine

she can take him

anyway, he does that and he says to her "and somewhere out there, may all the blood of your blood suffer even a fraction of what I have suffered"

now, this is weird

is he talking about yandere twin?

he wants revenge because yandere twin obliterated him?

is yandere twin "out there"?

I'd say this might be limbo BUT CAMILLA ISN'T DEAD

harrow is going to him and he says "she has not remembered her end" "is this how it happens then?"

and then he yeeted himself into space

that's what I wanted to do with not!dulcinea all along

so, yeah, well, this canaan business is getting more complicated now that it's not just people being shot

people are throwing themselves and others into space

and the memories of harrow in the emperor's bolthole aren't completely lining up with these

and mayonnaise uncle seemed to have been more aware of things than others around here?? or maybe just more forthcoming??? in that cryptic otaku way of his

also, no camilla at all still

Things are heating up in the emperor's bolthole, hope to come back soon with another one and thanks for the patience, hope it was worth it.

#luly reacts to tlt #harrow the ninth #harrow the ninth spoilers #tlt spoilers #the locked tomb #long post #gif cw

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socksandbuttons · 1 month

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Swap AU Stuff

Alright let's jsut try getting down basics maybe

Also this maybe long actually.

The obvious Swaps Lunar and Eclipse: Basically how we meet them in episode. I legit went along with thinking this Eclipse wasn't memory wiped the whole time so thats kinda- in the air a bit. But Lunar being the original body (I have a post showing how Eclipse looked then), Eclipse with the one he made (to be taller. He can't stand being small... Well shorter than anyone really. A shame he has Bloodmoon towering over him.) The Glamrocks: They are as Swapped so Chica is Freddy, Freddy is Roxy, Roxy is Monty and Monty is Chica (I love them immediately after giving them luscious hair im sorry). Rox and Sun are friends and he's quite protective of Sun, also a cowboy cause swap au/Foxy etc. Digi in the discord came up with this and i died cause it was so good actually. Eclipse and Lunar still go thru the whole October Arc with Moon and Sun. Moon being far more quiet but aggressive. Made Sun to hinder Eclipse. Let me paste my lil paragraph i had in discord

"Sun likely has more denial about moons treatment of him, however like lunar he does start questioning if its good for moon to get the star (like sort of getting the Moon Wont Stop so i need to do something he might hurt himself etc) plus lunar and eclipses treatment of sun would be a huge factor too, eclipse obviously is terrible at communcating and while he's a bit of a jerk, realizing sun might be in danger or hurt is something he might catch on faster. maybe. im thinking anyway sun catches attachment to both that outweighs his denial of moon being terrible actually. he's still grasping at things even well after. doesnt realize he gets awful panic attacks until someone points it out actually. and then i lost my train of thought but moon still loved sun just…. very clearly was not the forefront of his goals tho. feels very betrayed by sun after and likely wont fogrive sun. vs sun whos too willing to forgive despite his anxiety screaming at him NOT TO. i just wanna show a different thing to this cause lunar recognized halfway into october and let moon handle the rest and recognizes that eclipse was hurting him much sooner than sun wouldve (see the… current sun. og sun recognizes now but it truly took him a WHILE, communication Real now.)" Anyway, Sun does end up getting adopted by both Eclipse and Lunar. He's never gonna be taller than Eclipse. But as mentioned he's got a lot of things to work through about Moon (Roxy will kick so much ass for him.) Generally trying to grasp that yeah no it was pretty fucked up of Moon to do anything to Sun. Now the timeline gets a lil weird beyond this because like KC would've also been in this plot. KC unlike our Bloodmoon, is actually far smarter (Im sorry to bm fans), he DOES work with Sun but generally more for his benefit of getting rid of Moon. He doesn't really need to be bribed for this actually. Imagine KC being so pissed about Moon showing up in his systems and hes LIKE WTF MAN. Zappity Zap Zap Double Dee Moon Anyway Cue Bloodmoon arriving. And like bloodmoon does- He does technically hold Eclipse hostage but gets bored. So there is mild agreement. Bloodmoon does what KC did and FORCED themself out (like our OG boy!). They're uh... theyre not very keen on sticking around a daycare as fun as itd be to tear it up. They like lightly bully Sun but Roxy to the rescueee. Anyway, 'Does KC die in this au?' No he doesnt. He gets CLOSE to it but Bloodmoon just goes 'Hmn. nah son you're coming with me'. Lunar still feels incredibly bad about it though. Space arriving sooner actually more or less helps like avoid some certain issues here and there. Unlike Earth where she arrives much later (due to be literally distracted.) Space goes directly to the daycare. Thus kinda- changing some bits. He does meet Bloodmoon, hates him though. 'Why aren't you thinking this through' 'We wanna see how much they scream' 'You'll be electrocuting yourself before you get the chance' '...That means Eclipse gets electrocuted?' 'Put down. the fork.' KC handles Bloodmoon with much exasperation. Bloodmoon picked up this sucker and went 'our Spawn'. Baffles KC. Space ends up meeting Crater, Moon got annoyed with Space's presence being literally really hard to work around. Sends Crater, Crater and Space get along well enough that it wasn't Moon intention but this works too. Space (theres irony here) gets concerned with Crater and her not viewing herself with autonomy. She is still just a 'basic AI' as she puts it. Does what she's told. Bloodmoon doesn't really use her just kinda shoo's her off to Space or Eclipse. 'No you're no fun-' 'I have told to monitor you' 'WE DIDNT ASK MOON FOR A BABYSITTER' 'I am programmed to defend' 'We dont need defending either' 'You are still vunerable' '...Go away' 'Affirmative. Destination please?' 'DAYCARE'

Anyway How do i sum this up. Roxy and Sun are besties Lunar and Sun vibe. Eclipse is soft with Sun.

Bloodmoon has claimed ONE child. Doesn't really claim Moon but thats a later thing. Moon and KC despise one another.

KC didn't really want this fatherly figure but he begrudgingly accept them. Funny things happen with these three. Bloodmoon doesn't become pacifist, just more or less moves away dragging KC with them. A little bitter at Lunar's murder attempt but its fine. No one died there but heavily maimed.

Eclipse and Moon still ultimately hate one another. There is a Swap version of Solar thats Moon and- we'll get confused so just know its out there. Space and Crater are good friends and partly why both end up questioning their existence but both support pillars to one another that it just kinda isn't as devastating. Unless someone dies. Crater does end up having her own personhood, Moon does get attached to her even if he doesnt admit it. Space doesn't question creator enough but Crater does and vice versa. Bloodmoon(s) does have a name but ill reveal that later??? idk

#sun and moon show #tsams au #sams swap au #myart #swap crater #swap space #sams sun #sams lunar #sams eclipse #sams moon #swap roxy

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javierpena-inatacvest · 8 months

Text

Chapter 8.5: 007- Peña, Agent Peña

Summary: After Javi's surprise on the Peña ranch, you had already had the best night of your life. Little did you know, your night was just beginning.

Word Count: 4.9K (This is as short as it's ever gonna get, this is just who I am)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up), creampie, praise (oh boy, does Javi tell you what a good job you're doing), semi-public nudity?? (not really, but you'll see!!), mentions of eating/food, mentions of alcohol, mentions of loss of a parent, you and Javi being absolute goofballs and being lovesick idiots

A/N: SO. I finished Chapter 8 and went to go walk my dog, and the song "Would That I" by Hozier came on, and it 100% is the inspiration behind this mini chapter. I literally came up with the idea for this chapter and wrote it in less than 24 hours because Javi and Osita live in my head rent free at all times being the cutest two idiots to ever exist. Enjoy this fun lil bit, it's honestly probably my favorite thing that I've written for this series so far!!!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

“I’m not sure if cold, post sex and first I love you’s is the way that your dad intended us to eat these enchiladas, but holy shit are they delicious.” You and Javi laughed, finishing the last bites of the enchiladas verdes Chucho had packed for the both of you. It probably would have made more sense to eat dinner almost an hour ago when Javi had first taken you out to watch the sunset in the back of his truck, but, no offense to Chucho’s enchiladas, having the most romantic sex of your life followed by Javi telling you that he loved you for the first time seemed to take higher priority to you.

“These ones are actually pretty good, I will give him that. Thank God he’s finally starting to get better at cooking, a few months ago his food was practically inedible.” Javi shook his head, wiping his face with the back of his hand as gathered both of your cleared paper plates and forks, tossing them into the empty paper bag Chucho had sent them with.

“Actually? I didn’t know he had come such a long way in his cooking career in such a short time.” You snickered, pulling some of the blankets laying at the edge of the truck bed over you as you scooted yourself closer to Javi, laying your head against his chest as you snuggled next to him. Pulling you closer, Javi wrapped his arm around you, fingers tracing gentle circles along the back of his sweatshirt you were now wearing.

“Actually. He never cooked until my mom died. One day he called me while I was still in Colombia and told me he had found one of my mom’s recipe books and was gonna teach himself how to cook. When I came home, he insisted on making me dinner every night so he could show off whatever he was learning. I ate a lot of sandwiches after he fell asleep the first few months I was home.”

“Well despite the terrible food you had to eat, that’s actually really sweet. Glad I came around when I did so I only have to reap the benefits of his good cooking and not suffer along with you.” You giggled as he squeezed you before giving you a playful shake wrapped in his arms. “Can you cook at all, or is this a warning that you’re gonna subject me to your awful cooking too?”

“I can cook enough. Not a good cook by any means, but definitely not my Pops a few months ago. Can do more than Kraft Mac and Cheese, I’ll tell you that much.” He smirked, poking fun at the first meal you had made. You sat up, giving him the biggest stink face you could muster without bursting into laughter.

“Okay, first of all, rude. Second of all, don’t act like you wouldn’t have eaten an entire second pot if I hadn’t made one for you, Mr. Literally Will Literally Eat Anything Under The Sun In World Record Time.”

“If I seem to remember correctly, you weren’t doing a lot of complaining after I ate, Osita.” He winked at you as you nudged your elbow into his side before he grabbed you, rolling you over and playfully wrestling you into the pile of pillows and blankets beneath you. “C’mere, Hermosa.” He wrapped his arms around you as you giggled and squirmed beneath him, trying to wiggle your way out of his grasp. You kicked your feet as he kissed at your neck, his mustache ticking you with each peck of his lips. Using all your might, you were able to roll over on top of him, straddling his lap as he lay on his back, breaking free of his grasp.

“Can’t get me that easy, Peña. Wrestling was the only way I got anything from my brothers for the first ten years of my life.” You smirked as you leaned down to kiss him as his fingertips gripped into your hips, pulling you further on to his lap.

“Could think of worse ways to lose a wrestling match.” Javi’s face smug as he gestured to how you were sitting on top of him, letting out a quiet groan as you started to grind into his lap, feeling him already half hard beneath you. “Careful, Hermosa. Not gonna be so nice if you’re gonna try to play dirty.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to make the next move.

Still bent over him, you kissed up his neck and jaw before nipping at his ear. “Last time I checked, you liked it when I played dirty.” Your whispers left jaw slack, pressing up into you, his dick already straining against the fabric of his sweatpants.

“Fuck me.” He murmured under his breath as you began to grind harder into his crotch. “You wanna play dirty, baby? I can play fuckin’ dirty.” You could see the lust filled in the dark pool of his eyes, biting down on your lip, already feeling the slick pooling between your legs with each sway of your hips. “You already wet for me, baby?”

This man read you like a book- like he had every fucking page memorized. “Mmmhhhmm.” You nodded, feeling how soaked the fabric of your sweatpants already was as you felt your clit rub deliciously against Javi’s dick, hard and heavy underneath you.

“I know you are, dirty girl. Want me to touch you baby? Want me to make you come before I fuck that perfect pussy again?” You nodded again, frantically shaking your head yes at his filthy words as you worked yourself against his length. He laughed to himself, shaking his head as he watched how blissed out you already were rubbing against him. “Too bad.”

You paused, shooting him a confused look. “What do you mean, too bad?”

“You know exactly what I mean. You wanna play dirty, I will too. You wanna come? You get yourself off like this.” He gave you a subtle nod of his head, gesturing to how you were sitting on top of his lap.

“Are you serious? Javi, c’mon, please.” You rolled your eyes at him as you crossed your arms over your chest, trying to play off how desperate you already were for him.

“Rules are rules baby. Fight dirty, play dirty. C’mon pretty girl, I know how needy you are, how wet that pretty pussy is for me.” He mewled as he toyed with the waistband of your sweatpants, fingers brushing against your skin. He dug his fingers into your hips, slowly pushing them back and forth against his lap, encouraging you to pick back up your pace brushing up against his dick with every motion. “There you go, hermosa. That’s my girl. Just like that, baby.” He praised as you found yourself rubbing harder and harder against him, slick coating your thighs. With his length, it wasn’t hard to feel how big he was, making it easy to find a sweet spot that brushed up against your sensitive bundle of nerves as you rocked your hips back and forth over him.

“Javiiiii, fuck.” You whined, feeling the heat build at the base of your spine as your clit rubbed harder and harder on his covered cock.

“That’s it, Osita. Doing so good for me, baby. God, you look so fucking pretty riding me like that, C’mon, I know you’re close sweetheart.” His praise had you climbing towards your high, each time you ground your hips into him had you closer and closer to coming undone. His name fell from your lips, moaning as he was gripping your hips again pushing you deeper into him.

“Javi, I’m so close. Fuck, fuck fuckkkkkk.” You whimpered as you felt the euphoria rush through you, gushing, feeling your pussy throb from the intensity of your orgasm. You slumped into him, face falling on to his chest as you caught your breath.

“Such a good girl, Osita. My good fucking girl. Did so good for me baby.” He whispered in your ear as hand his hands along your body, trembling at his touch. “Still want me to fuck you, dirty girl?”

“Yes, holy shit, yes.” You moaned. “Please, I need you so bad Javi.” He helped you pull your sweatpants down, kicking them off your feet as you straddled back over Javi, sitting on top of his thighs. Slipping your fingers under his waistband, you pushed the pants down, revealing his dick, already red, precum leaking from its tip, leaving a stain on his sweatpants. You lifted yourself up, slowly sinking down on his length, each inch splitting you open with the sweetest stretch. Even without his fingers to warm you up, you were so wet that you took him easily, feeling yourself bottom out on his cock as Javi let out an audible groan. His hands reached around, giving you a light smack on your ass before his fingers kneaded into your flesh. You began to raise yourself up and down along his length, swirling your hips as your hands tugged at the hem of his sweatshirt that you were wearing, ready to take it off. His hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you before you could get any further.

“Keep it on. Fuck, I love seeing you in my clothes.” He bit down on his lip as you nodded, rubbing your hands up and down his chest as you threw your head back, drunk on the way his dick felt hitting against that sweet spot inside you. The hair around his base rubbed against your clit, making you whine as you picked up your pace. “Jesus Hermosa, fuck me. Taking me so well. My sweet girl.” His voice was thick and raspy between his heavy breaths, his eyes glued on your every move as you rode him.

Suddenly, you felt him shift. Sitting up with his back pushed up against the truck, he wrapped his arms around you pulling you in so you were chest to chest, foreheads pressed against each other. You could feel him thrust up into you, his cock punching that magical spot that made the heat at the base of your spine creep up your back. “Javi, fuck baby, you feel so good. Fuckkk.” You tugged at his thick curls, burying your face in the crook of his neck, the scent of his sweet and spicy cologne clinging to his sweatshirt.

“I know, hermosa, I know. Fuck, you’re so wet and tight, baby. Gonna give me one more? Soak my dick before I fuck you full of me again?” You wrapped your legs around his waist, digging your fingers into his back as you felt yourself snap, screaming his name as pleasure ran through every inch of you. You could feel how tight you were clenching around his cock as you came, his thrusts pounding deeper and faster into you. It didn’t take long for him to meet his own end, only needing a few more pumps before you felt his seed spill into you, leaking down your thighs and into his lap as you slumped into each other.

“Fuck, Osita.” He whispered between his labored breathing, lifting his head off your shoulder, smiling at your blissed out face. “Jesus, I fucking love you.”

“I love you too, Jav. Super romantic with your dick still in me and your cum dripping down my legs.” You giggled, still sitting in his lap.

“It’s fucking hot, is what it is. Fuck me, you’re so sexy. What the fuck did I ever do to deserve such a beautiful woman who fucking loves me like you?”

“God, you’re so sweet. Get your dick out of me before I start crying again, you menace.” You both laughed as you shifted off of him, grimacing at the mess you had left behind in Javi’s lap. “Do you have any towels, or leftover napkins? Sorry, I made a fucking mess. So much for those showers before we left.”

Javi paused for a moment before a sly grin crept across his face. “Ostia, can you swim?

You raised an eyebrow at him, very confused by his question, considering you were surrounded by a gigantic, grassy field. “What? Yes, of course I can swim? Why are you asking me that? How is knowing if I can swim helpful right now?”

His smile turned giddy, smirking at you as he shimmied his sweatpants back over his legs. “C’mon, get in the truck.” He slid himself off the back of the truck bed, standing up and outstretching his hand toward you. You quickly pulled your sweatpants back on too, following behind him as he helped you out of the truck and picked you up to put you in the passenger seat.

“Javi, what the hell are we doing? Are you gonna go throw me in a trough or something? Listen, I love those cows, but I am not gonna be happy if you toss me into a bucket full of dirty cow spit water.” You crossed your arms at him, waiting for a response.

“You’ll see.” He winked at you before shutting your door, hopping over to the driver’s side and starting up the car.

“You’re lucky I love you.” You grumbled, still crossing his arms at him. He reached over the center console, giving you a quick kiss before pulling away and shifting the truck into drive.

“I’m a very lucky man, indeed.” You finally shifted out of your playfully grumpy demeanor, melting as Javi stared at you, his sweet, puppy dog eyes making your heart explode every time they landed on you. You turned up the radio as Javi pulled away, heading the opposite direction that you came from, his headlights shining on a thick patch of trees at the end of one of the pastures. Driving a little deeper into the wooded area, Javi put the car in park, leaving you even more confused than when you left. He smiled at you as he shut off the ignition, hopping out the door before coming around to your side, helping you out of the car.

“God, I thought driving me out to the middle of the field was bad, but taking me out into the woods in the pitch black? You really never are beating these serial killer allegations, I’m afraid.”

“You’re the worst, do you know that?” Javi shook his head as he grabbed your hand, pulling you along with him as he began to walk through the trees.

“I’m just saying! Listen, if you really wanted- Hey! Hey! Put me down!” You squealed as Javi picked you up, flinging you over his shoulder as you pounded your fists against his back, kicking and giggling with each step he took. God, was he strong. He carried you like it was nothing, laughing to himself as he watched you try to wriggle your way out of his fireman hold. Letting out a huff of defeat, you slumped further into him, staring at the ground as he took each step.

“At least I have a good view of your ass from here.” You snickered as he continued walking.

“You really like my butt, don’t you?” He laughed, rustling you in his grasp, still flung over his shoulder.

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, you are built like a God, Javier Peña. You’re very much proving your point right now carrying my fat ass through the woods.”

He stopped, setting you down so you were facing towards him, placing his strong hand under your chin before tilting it up towards him. You gazed up at him, a surprisingly serious look spread across his face. “Hey. I love your ass. I love your body. Every curve, every single bit of you. Okay?”

“Okay.” You softly replied, pulling you in tighter as he kissed the top of your head. “So are you gonna tell me where the hell we’re going, or are you just gonna keep carrying me through the woods?”

“Turn around.” He nodded his head, gesturing behind you. As you spun around, you saw the moonlight sparkle off ripples of the pond in front of you. Rocks and tall grass surrounded the edges, water from a small stream flowing from behind the reeds into the pond. An old, worn wooden dock sat at the end, hovering over the first few feet out into the water. You turned back around to look at Javi, now smirking at your pleasant surprise with his most recent mystery. “I was out here every day as a kid in the summer. Nothing much, but it was deep enough to swim in. Haven’t been back here since high school, probably.”

“Is this where you’d take all the ladies to woo them with your swimming skills?” You joked, giving Javi a nudge as he stared around the pond.

“No.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Just me and my friends, sometimes my cousins when they came over, if I was lucky.”

“Well, I feel very honored to be the first lucky woman to get to see this secret pond.” You replied, slipping your sweatpants off your waist, leaving your bottom half exposed. Javi’s jaw dropped for the second time today watching you strip yourself of your clothes. “What?” You looked at him as your sweatshirt came next, dropping in a pile next to your pants, leaving you fully naked in front of him. “Aren’t we getting in?” You tilted your head at the pond, smirking at Javi who was now speechless.

“You sure?” He said, gulping as he looked you up and down, your soft skin glowing in the moonlight.

“Would I be standing here naked if I wasn’t?” You shrugged your shoulders as you raised an eyebrow at him. “You gonna swim in your sweats or am I gonna keep standing here like a naked idiot waiting for you?” Before you could say anything else, Javi’s clothes were on the ground next to yours, leaving you both bare, hidden amongst the secluded trees. This time, you grabbed his hand, running as you pulled him to the end of the dock, abruptly pausing as you got to the edge. “Are there like, weird things in here? It’s deep enough to jump in, right?”

“Hermosa, just get in, you’re fine.”

“Okay, but like-”

“Osita, get in or I’m gonna push you in.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“You know I fucking will.”

“Ugh okay, okay! Just promise me-”

“1…”

“Javi, wait-”

“2…”

“I’m being serious, don’t you do it! Javier Jesús Peña, I swear to God-”

“3!”

Before you could finish, Javi had his arms wrapped around your waist, swinging you back and forth, throwing you over the edge of the dock, limbs flailing as you splashed into the water. You peeked your head up, running your hands over your face as you watched Javi laughing hysterically. You flung your hand against the water, trying your best to splash him as he still stood at the edge thoroughly amused with himself.

“I hate you, I hope you know that.” You grumbled, splashing him again. “Hey, wait, where are you going?” You shouted as you watched Javi turn around, making his way off the dock. It wasn’t long before you regretted asking the question, as Javi quickly turned around, getting a running start as he launched himself off the edge, drenching you as he drove into the water, making waves that splashed against you upon his entrance. You swam there for a moment, waiting for his head to pop up somewhere next to you, when suddenly, you felt something wrap around your ankle, making you absolutely screech at the top of your lungs. You swam as fast as you could back to the edge of the dock, clinging to the edge as you heard more hysterical laughter behind you, turning around to see Javi cackling to himself as you panted breathlessly, waiting for your heart rate to return to a semi-normal pace.

“Holy shit, I didn’t think I was gonna scare you that bad, Osita.” He came down from his laughter, looking over at you hanging from the wooden planks still trying to catch your breath. “I’m sorry, baby. Are you okay?” He swam closer to you, now seeming like he felt a little remorse for what he had done.

You took a few more deep breaths before letting go of the dock, looking back at him. Now only an arms’ length away from you, you swam full force towards Javi, wrapping your body around his, trying to wrestle him in the water. “You are an absolute jerk, you know that?” You grunted between your giggles as Javi grabbed you back, spinning you as you thrashed in the water, splashing it in his face before he grabbed your face to kiss him. Your legs locked around Javi’s hips, arms wrapping around his neck as his slipped behind your back, pulling you closer, feeling weightless in the water. He drew away for a moment, taking one of his hands to caress your face, rubbing his thumb along your jaw.

“I forgive you, I guess.” You smiled as you sat there for a moment, taking in every detail of his face. His messy wet hair, his chocolate brown eyes, the way his mustache shifted above his lips as he smiled, everything about him that made you love him even more than you thought you already could. The way he looked back at you made you feel like there wasn’t anyone else in the world who could ever love you more.

“God, you’re so beautiful. I love you, Osita.”

“I love you too, Javi.”

He brought you in closer, placing another gentle kiss on your lips. He pulled away again, this time with a look of panic washing over his face.

“What? Are you okay?”

“Was that your foot?”

“My feet are wrapped around your waist?” You looked at him curiously.

Trying his best to keep calm, Javi swam you both closer and closer to the shore, still carrying you with him as you stepped back on to land. This time, it was your turn to laugh at him, suddenly realizing why he had gotten out so quickly. “Not big and brave now, huh?”

“At least I didn’t scream like you.”

“Oh shut up.” You giggled as he set you back down, now sopping wet and shivering next to your pile of clothes. “Any way to explain to your dad why the hell we’re both coming back soaking wet?” You grimaced as you started to pull your sweatshirt over your wet body.

“We’re not.” His face smug as he followed suit opting to only put on his sweatpants, leaving him shirtless as you both headed back through the trees.

“So…. What? You’re just gonna ask your dad to close his eyes and ignore us when we come back inside?” You raised an eyebrow in confusion looking up at Javi as he reached down to grab your hand as you walked.

“No. To be honest, Pops is probably already passed out in front of the TV, but of course, you can’t walk through the front door without going past him. We’ll just sneak in through my bedroom window and he’ll be none the wiser.”

You stopped for a second before laughing at him, continuing to walk as you shook your head. “Sneak in? What are we, 16? I know you said you’ve never brought any girls down here before, but I have a very hard time believing this is the first time you’ve snuck a girl into your room, Javier Peña.”

“Only a few times.” He looked down at the ground sheepishly as you squeezed his hand.

“I’m just giving you a hard time, Jav. Wouldn’t be my first time sneaking in either.” You admitted, your cheeks turning slightly red at your admission.

“Really?” He perked up. “You don’t strike me as the type, but do tell.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You just seem like such a rule follower, maybe it’s the teacher in you.” He shrugged as you rolled your eyes. “What’d ya do?”

“Fair, I guess. I was 17. One of my friends was having a party at her parents house while they were on vacation, and being the rule follower that I am, I asked my parents and they said no. I was so mad because it felt like they always let my brothers go out and have fun and I never got to. So, once everyone was asleep, I snuck out, rode my bike all the way to my friends house, got drunk out of my mind, which is part of the reason why I can never drink vodka again, and by some miracle, was able to ride my bike back home. When I came in through the side door of the garage, my brother David was in there, already waiting for me. He told me that he could hear me singing at the top of my lungs halfway down the block. He took pity on me and helped my drunk ass up to bed and never told my parents. He’s always been my favorite brother. Then, I pretended to have the stomach flu for the next 3 days to cover up for my hangover.” You both laughed as you finished your walk up to the truck, Javi opening the passenger door for you as you stepped in.

“No vodka, duly noted. You trying to tell me your singing gets even more obnoxious when you’re drunk?” He smiled as you buckled yourself in.

“You love my singing, don’t lie. But um… maybe… Just a little. You’ll just have to deal with my sober serenading for now, sorry.” You smirked at him as you shrugged your shoulders, Javi laughing to himself as he shut the door behind you.

………..

As promised, you spent the rest of the ride to the ranch windows down, blaring “Go Your Own Way” from Fleetwood Mac, noting that even though Javi had put on the album not long ago, you were a bit distracted to actually listen to any of the songs. If it was anyone else, Javi would have rather been caught dead than singing along to anything, regardless of song, album or artist. But lucky for him, you weren’t just anyone. You were his everything. Javi was sad when you’re singing came to an end, lowering the music as you pulled up to the house, trying to remain as quiet as possible to not wake up his dad.

“Too bad you don’t have the James Bond soundtrack in your car, I feel like we’re on some sort of secret mission right now.” You whispered, trying to close the truck door behind you as quietly as possible.

“C’mon, you dork.” He replied, taking you by the hand and leading you around the edge of his house. You both tiptoed along the wood siding of the house, Javi leading you before stopping under one of the windows, slightly cracked open, pushing out of its frame. “Alright, if I lift you up, can you push it the rest of the way open and climb in?”

“Sure thing, Agent Peña. What number do you want to be, since you clearly can’t be 007, that one’s already taken. I don’t think they’ll let you be the next James Bond with that ‘stache.” You mumbled, stepping in front of Javi as he got ready to lift you up.

“Will you just get in the window, please?” He scoffed, squeezing his hands on your hips, getting ready to hoist you.

“Fine, fine, just say you wanna be lame and move on. I’m ready.” As Javi shot you up, your fingers wrapped around the edge of the windowsill, humming to yourself as you shimmied yourself in.

“Bada boommmm, bada booommmmm, bahnanah.”

“Are you seriously singing the James Bond theme song right now?” Javi looked up at the window as you pushed open the rest of the pane, now looking down at him.

“Yeah, at least one of us should have a little fun with this. You need my help getting in?”

He hadn’t even answered your question before he was already halfway through the window, pulling himself through and landing on the floor.

“Showoff.” You grumbled to yourself as he closed the window behind him. Wet and uncomfortable in your clothes, you stripped them off of you, drying yourself off from the towel you had left on Javi’s bed from your shower earlier. Javi did the same, shedding his sweatpants and throwing them next to yours before you both crawled under the covers, curling into each other. You pulled the comforter up over you, nestling against the warmth of Javi’s body. Laying your head on Javi’s chest, Javi ran his fingers through the ends of your hair, still damp from your swim. It wasn’t until you hit the bed that you realized just how exhausted you were, barely keeping your eyes open, your eyelids heavy with sleep.

“Javi?” You asked, looking up at him, your voice low and soft, letting out a quiet yawn.

“Yes, Osita?” He peered down at you, fingers still twisting through your locks.

“You really love me?”

He chuckled warmly, planting a soft kiss on the top of your head. “I really do. Con todo mí corazón. (With all my heart.) Get some sleep, Hermosa, I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”

He paused, waiting for you to respond.

“Hermosa?”

The only thing he heard after that were your sweet snores humming against his chest, you already sound asleep in his arms. He gave you one more kiss on the head before pulling you closer, shutting his eyes as he whispered one last goodnight. “Buenas noches, Osita. Soy un hombre afortunado. Tienes todo mí corazón para siempre. Te amo.” (Good night, Osita. I’m a lucky man. You have all of my heart, forever. I love you.)

..........

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void-wolfie · 1 year

Text

Seventy-Two

summary: a little arguing and some bad memories push you into a panic attack, good thing Tara's there to help you through it.

pairing: Tara Carpenter x gn!Reader

words: 1.3k

tw: some angst, some fluff... mentions of abuse, (very brief) mentions of drugs/alcohol, descriptions of panic/anxiety attacks

a/n: apparently I'm back on my angst train lol. I'm not a professional so apologies if this isn't completely accurate. Briefly based this on my own experiences and some light research.

*if anything here may be a trigger for you, please don't read

You set your motorcycle helmet in your locker, grabbing out the few textbooks you'd need for the day and slamming the locker door shut.

"Where've you been?"

You jumped a little, not having expected the shorter girl to be on the other side of the locker door.

"Hi, Tara. Good morning to you too. Oh, I'm fine thanks for asking," You snarked, disregarding the girl and heading towards your first class.

She sighed, you two played this little game too often. Out in public, it was sideways glances and off-the-cuff remarks. She only ever got to see the real you when you were alone.

Right now, there were eyes everywhere; students and teachers alike all crowding the halls, trying to get to classes. She wouldn't get anything out of you here.

She grabbed you by the arm and yanked you into an empty classroom, making sure to shut the door behind you.

"Anyone ever tell you, you're tenacious." You smirked, looking around the empty classroom in boredom. Turning back around, you noticed the less-than-enthused look on her face.

"Anyone ever tell you, you're annoying."

"Actually you, every time we talk,"

You didn't take the jab to heart; she was just worried and stressed.

"Where've you been?" she asked again, her calm demeanor slipping away.

"Awe, do you actually care for me, princess?"

She huffed, rubbing her eyes with her fingers, something she often did when annoyed. Her patience was running thin, and classes hadn't even started yet.

"I've been trying to text you. Wes told me your dad had to bail you out for drug charges, then you go M.I.A. for two weeks and come back looking like you had the shit beat out of you."

"Yeah, well what else did Wes tell ya?"

You didn't exactly like Wes. He wasn't terrible but his nose was always stuck in someone else's business, which irritated the living hell out of you.

That, plus the fact you couldn't help but be jealous over their relationship. You know you shouldn't be, after all, they're just friends. But nothing ticked you off quite like Wes following Tara around like a lost puppy dog for everyone to see, while your relationship with the girl only existed behind closed doors.

"He told me your dad looked mad, like seriously pissed off." She took a few steps closer, getting into your personal space, not that you minded. You flinched slightly as her hands cupped your face, her thumb lightly tracing your black eye. "Did he do this to you, your dad?"

Despite the voice in your head screaming to finally admit it, to tell the whole world about the shit he puts you through, you just couldn't do it. You shook your head no, quickly wiping at the tears that threatened to fall.

You pulled yourself away from her, stepping further into the classroom to try and get some space.

"Then who did?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Have you looked in a mirror, you look like shit. Of course, it matters."

"Just leave it alone, Tara."

She wouldn't understand, you barely even did yourself. You just couldn't turn him in.

The man may be an abusive asshole and borderline alcoholic, but he's still your dad. For every terrible memory, there was a good one.

Sure, he'd beaten you to a pulp, hit you countless times before, and who even knows how much therapy you'd need one day. But he'd also bought you your first motorcycle, taught you how to do oil changes and engine repairs, he helped you prepare for softball tournaments and school projects.

It was all just so conflicting.

"y/n?"

You were so lost in your thoughts you barely noticed the tightness in your chest or the way your fingernails dug into the skin of your palms, almost drawing blood. You were lost in your memories trying to figure out where it all went wrong.

You were completely overwhelmed. Your entire world was crumbling down around you. It felt like you were drowning with no end in sight.

You yanked your backpack off, then your jacket, gripping the desk in front of you as you tried to figure out how to breathe again.

"y/n?"

She'd never seen you like this before. You were always so strong, so guarded. And yet here you were, looking the most vulnerable she'd ever seen you.

"I- I can’t-" you stumbled over your words, not sure how to form anything coherent with the dizziness in your head and tightness in your chest.

You sat down on the floor, leaning your back against the teacher’s desk as the world spun in front of you.

Tara recognized that look, she'd seen it in Sam countless times before. You were having a panic attack.

"Shit."

She dropped her bag, getting down on the ground next to you, careful not to crowd you in case it only made it worse.

"Hey, you’re good at math, right?"

You looked at her a bit puzzled but nodded nonetheless. What the fuck does math have to do with anything right now?

"Ok, what's six plus four?"

"T-Ten." You wheezed out an answer, still focusing on trying to get your breathing under control.

"Good, now what's nine times three?"

She could tell you were still overwhelmed, not really focused on her at the moment. Your eyes seemed dazed as they darted around the room.

"Hey," She grabbed your hand gently, interlacing your fingers, "focus on me, ok?"

That seemed to work, grabbing your attention, "What's nine times three?"

"...Twenty-seven,"

She was doing her best to stay calm, even if the sight of you hurting was killing her inside. But she'd done this before, she knew what she was doing... well, mostly.

The research she'd done over the years rang out in her head. Stay calm, get them to slow their breathing. Make your own breathing relaxed, keep it slow and even-paced, and theirs will follow suit... Get them to focus on something else for the time being... If things get worse, call for help...

"Good, and what about seven times eight?"

"...Fifty-six,"

"Five times eleven?"

"Fifty-five,"

Now she had your attention. You didn't notice but your breathing had started slowing down and your fists weren't clenched as tight. You were starting to relax a bit.

"Ok, what about forty-five divided by three?"

"Fifteen."

"And sixty divided by five?"

"Twelve,"

"Good," you were finally calm again, mostly anyways, "want me to keep going?"

You were exhausted, you felt a little better, not great, but better. Your head didn't feel like it was going to explode anymore, and your heart wasn't beating out of your chest.

You shook your head no, not wanting to do any more math. You patted the spot next to you, which Tara happily filled, glad to see you weren't hyperventilating anymore.

You closed your eyes and rested your head on her shoulder.

"So, am I officially smarter than a fifth grader?"

She rolled her eyes, not that you could see that, too busy cuddling into her side, "not a chance,"

"Your just jealous I'm better at my times tables than you are,"

She didn't have to look down at you to know you were smirking. But she did anyway, finding it adorable with the way your eyes were still closed and you were leaning into her.

It was almost comical, she thought, looking down at you. The big scary drug dealer with a fuck-around-and-find-out attitude and a deadly glare cuddling into the popular girl who has the personality (and height) of a teddy bear. If anyone else at school saw this, they probably would've thought they were hallucinating.

She scoffed, "that's so not true."

"What's nine times eight?"

There was a moment of silence, in which you couldn't help but smile a little brighter.

"I hate you."

"Seventy-two."

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem!reader #tara carpenter x gn!reader #jenna ortega #void-wolfie

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