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#I think a lot about how shitty my older work was
braceletstea · 2 months
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someone liked an ancient post (on my main blog) with the photo on the left and I thought maybe I could show off how much I've grown. The alt text describes it in more detail but I primarily want to draw your attention to the fact that I cropped off the tails and loops in the older photo because they looked bad and I knew they looked bad-- I hadn't learned yet that there was another way to start and finish my bracelets.
I was also using cheap string that I got for free off Facebook marketplace-- not that DMC embroidery floss is particularly fancy, but in 2018 I was mostly looking for a hobby that I could do on the bus and between classes.
I'm really proud of the fact that I've been making bracelets for so much of my life, and that I'm still learning new techniques and improving my craft.
At the same time, I'm really embarrassed that I let people pay me actual money for my bracelets back then.
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eiightysixbaby · 1 month
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older! eddie finally having enough of reader calling him old man and he decides to show her how much of an old man he really is😏😏😏
“old man yeah?” he says grinning ear to ear when you whine pathetically underneath him, “wanna say that again?” he coos
18+ only pleaaaase!
The ball rolls down the lane, heavy and awkward, knocking into the pins and only sending a couple falling.
“That was possibly the worst throw of the night, Munson!” Robin says, smiling proudly when Eddie glares at her.
He groans, swiveling his arm to stretch out his shoulder.
“Not fair, this shit used to be easy. ‘S fuckin’ killing my shoulder tonight,” he comments, picking up his bottle of beer and clinking it with the top of Steve’s in a sort of pity toast to his bad turn.
“Oh, come on, old man!” you tease, standing to take your turn. You pick up your bowling ball from the bunch, giving Eddie a devious glance. “Let me show you how it’s done, sans any shoulder pain or back pain or pain in any other body part,” you smirk, earning a laugh from Steve.
“Ouch,” he says. “She’s got you there, Ed. Shoulder pain, really? When we’re not even halfway through this game.”
“Oh fuck off, Harrington. Wasn’t it two nights ago I saw you buying Epsom salts complaining about sore muscles? From a day at the pool with your kids?”
“Listen, the amount of times I had to pick them up and toss them into the water—”
You giggle, letting the two of them bicker as you take your turn. You let the ball go in a more elegant manner than Eddie, standing at the end of the lane as you wait to see the outcome. Sure enough, all ten pins fall with a scattered crash, and you bounce up and down eagerly.
“Woo!” Robin and Steve cheer, Eddie rolling his eyes as you high-five them.
“Alright, sweetheart, so you think you’re the superior bowler?” he asks, pulling you against him.
“I know I am, old man,” you draw out the last two words, pressing a polished finger to his chest. “Unless you really think you can show me up. But I wouldn’t want you hurting that shoulder while you try,” you pout, seeing the way the look in his eyes changes at your teasing. “Can’t have you doing too much… physical activity.”
“Alright, so that’s how you want to be, hm?” he asks, his voice low. “Just wait ‘til we get home, darling.”
The comment makes you shiver, his figure slipping away from you as soon as the words are out of his mouth. You watch him leave to get another drink, your mouth slightly agape as film reels run through your head, showcasing the activities that probably await you when you return home. Chewing on your lip, you return to your seat next to Robin, knowing full well you’re going to get under Eddie’s skin as much as you possibly can before the night is over.
Stumbling through the door just before midnight, a couple shitty bowling-alley-bar mixed drinks in your system, Eddie’s got his finger hooked in the waistband of your too-tight jeans, pulling you into him.
“That was real fucking cute, the way you kept mocking me all night,” he rasps, his warm breath fanning your ear, his lips barely grazing the shell of it. “If I had to hear you call me an old man one more time, I swear I was going to put you in the car and fuck you right there in the parking lot,” he says, kissing at your jaw.
You whine a little, tilting your head to the side to allow him better access.
“This is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asks, knowing the answer.
“Ed—” you pant, trying to paw at the buckle on his jeans.
“It is, god of course it’s what you wanted. I know your angles, baby,” he purrs, his voice dripping with lust.
He presses a hot kiss to your mouth, his tongue licking against your teeth. Your hands climb up his back, clawing at the fabric of his shirt as if your plan is to rip it off of him. He picks you up, carrying you down the hallway without breaking the kiss. He’s tossing you on the bed before he pulls his shirt off, exposing his modest muscles from years of hard work at the shop. You never tire of looking at the tattoos that decorate his pale skin, the ink fading with time.
He’s undoing his belt while you’re stripping bare on his bed, feeling your face heat when you catch him staring at your tits.
“Damn, I’m going to fuck the absolute shit out of you tonight,” he breathes, smiling boyishly, betraying his age despite the soft wrinkles in his face.
“Are you?” you ask, one final taunt, pushing him over the edge.
“Oh, sweetheart. G’na have you crying for me,” he says, moving to hover on top of you on the bed. “You’re not gonna be able to fucking walk tomorrow,” he murmurs, nipping at your earlobe.
It’s quick and without warning when he slips two fingers inside of you, making you mewl as your hands tangle in his hair. He curls them expertly, he knows your body like the back of his hand by now, knows exactly what to do to have you screaming for him.
His eager mouth licks and sucks on your breasts, tugging your nipples gently with his teeth as your back arches. Your body accepts a third finger from him easily, sucking him right in as wet, filthy noises fill the bedroom.
“Eddie,” you whine, already on the edge of your orgasm. Your breathing is heavy, eyes pinched shut beneath him as he works you to your breaking point.
You cum around his fingers with a cry, body shaking violently as he works you through it. You feel like you’re on fire, his touch igniting every inch of you. All you want is more.
“Old man, huh?” Eddie muses as you come down from your first high of the evening. “Looks like this old man still knows how to please. So do you wanna call me that again, sweetheart?”
You shake your head, knowing you’re already in for quite the night.
“Good,” he says, dipping down to kiss your lips, your jaw, your neck. “Cause we’re just getting started.”
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undreaming-fanfiction · 3 months
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I am massively busy with work and finalizing my Big Bang, but this idea just won't leave...
Steve and Eddie are both actors. They're in their mid thirties, well established, but they never starred together in anything. Steve tends to be cast in the same type, the dumb but pretty love interest, Eddie has lots of indie and disturbing movies under his belt. But this time, they both landed something big.
They get cast in the new Batman movie.
Steve is, of course, Batman. He insists on doing his own stunts. He refuses to get dehydrated for his shirtless scenes because he knows how damaging it is to both young men and women alike, he's not going to contribute to shitty expectations. The director (Dustin, duh!) sees something in him other directors never have - a potential for depth, for internal turmoil. He gives Steve the chance to prove himself as an actor and Steve pounces on it.
He's still very hot.
Eddie is cast as the Joker. He is a fan of the comics and scoffs at how absurd and deranged the character is becoming. He gets hired because he immediately says he doesn't think the character needs to rely on cheap tricks and shock value to be terrifying. Cutting off his face? Not cool. He suggests to play the Joker according to one of the older comics he has - one where the Joker is actually absolutely sane, but hides it to never be held accountable for his actions. The only person who ever saw through his ruse was Dr. Harleen Quinzel. Joker took care of that issue very quickly.
The chemistry between Steve and Eddie on screen is insane. They go toe to toe, it's impossible to look away when they interact. Eddie utilizes his bright smile to the maximum, tweaking it just right within moments so it becomes unsettling. The first time he laughs, Steve gets goosebumps.
Steve encompasses Bruce's loneliness so well Eddie's heart breaks for him. Dustin finds him in the trailer, giving himself gentle slaps over the face and muttering "you're evil, damn it, you don't want to comfort the Bat!!".
Batgirl (Robin) and Harley Quinn (Chrissy) find their slow descent into love hilarious. They all become good friends on the set.
Hopper, an acting veteran who plays Commissioner Gordon, grasps Steve's shoulder after an intense fight scene and mutters: "Good job, Steve, but maybe don't stare at his lips so much?"
Robin doesn't give him the same courtesy and once Dustin yells "Cut!", she screeches: "NOW KISS!"
The movie is a hit. People love the cast and the story, some of the OG fans complain as they always do, but the ratings are great, there are many interviews, panels, all of that.
And of course, there's gossip about Steve and Eddie being a thing, which enrages the macho Batman fanbase. Their Batman isn't gay!
But the rumors quickly disappear after an award ceremony where Eddie is nominated for the best supporting actor. He wins, of course. And as he gets up to accept the small statue and deliver a speech with enough "fuck"s to give the censor a headache, he drags Steve up and kisses him in front of the whole world.
A week later, Steve and Eddie are together in front of a camera again, answering questions in an interview.
The host asks: "What do you say to those fans that are disappointed, who say that their Batman isn't gay?"
Steve just snorts, pulls Eddie closer and answers: "They're right. Their Batman isn't gay. But he's definitely bi."
Also the comic story I'm mentioning exits and is short but fantastic. 10/10 recommend.
Oh also. The first spark happens when Steve sees Eddie's hair and blurts out: "Please tell me they're not making you cut it shorter. It's too gorgeous for that."
Also because people were asking about the comics - it's Batman Black and White - Case Study and it can be found on Tumblr HERE
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taexoxosgf · 4 months
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THIS DECEMBER
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PAIRING park jisung x fem!reader | ft. friendgroup!nct dream
WORDS 5k
SYNOPSIS Your horny friends try to pull a little prank on you in the days leading up to Christmas. One thing Park Jisung likes to remind them is: he totally doesn’t want any part in it. Except, he totally does.
WARNINGS smut, ANGST, fluff, lots of dialogue, vag fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, vanilla vanilla vanilla, they're in love basically
NOTES I have to admit, this isn’t my best work lolllllll. though this was supposed to be posted on christmas, this can be my new years gift! 2024 here we come babyyy
★ Part of A Dreamy Christmas Collab!
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“Why don’t we all be her secret Santa?” 
“What are you talking about?” Jaemin chuckles, eyes dancing as he seems intrigued by the idea.  But what pervades his mind was nothing like what Donghyuck was about to propose. 
“Think about it…” he trails.  “She used to say, if it’s an SOS, and we need help in that department,” he points to his crotch– “She would help us out.” 
“You’re fucking crazy,” Jisung rolls his eyes when he catches on to Hyuck’s sudden idea.  
“So you’re saying we all get her a present?” Chenle asks.
“Yes… But we all have to give her the same… present,” he walks between each of the men like a devil hovering over their shoulders.   
“Hyuck, just get to the point,” Jeno huffs. 
“Okay, bu–”
“No ‘buts!’ Get to your point,” Renjun groans.  
“The gift we’re giving her can’t be put into a shitty little box.”
“Oh my god, NO!” Mark whines.  
“What’s so wrong with a little fun?” 
“Are you seriously suggesting an… orgy?” 
“No, you idiot,” Hyuck pinches his nose bridge.  “Let’s all give her our present one by one leading up to Christmas… Like an advent calendar,” he shrugs, unable to hide the pride beaming off of him from the simile.  
“So you’re suggesting we all have sex with her in the days leading up to Christmas?  Am I hearing this right?” Jaemin intervenes once more, orbs gleaming with interest. 
“Ding Ding! We have a winner!”
“Jisung’s right. You’ve gone insane,” Renjun fully laughs.
“You know I’m insane, and that’s why we have fun.  But you know what? Let’s make this more interesting… When we tell her after Christmas, the person who she says is her best fuck, get’s her secret Santa present,” Hyuck smirks. “You know she goes all out.” 
“I’m in, but it might be hard for Mark because he’s actually in love with her,” Jaemin turns his body towards his friend who avoids eye contact before offering a retort. 
“Why just me? You guys are all in love with her!” His claim is met with a group of huffs and groans.
“How do you know she’ll even agree to this?” Jeno points out, earning a nod from the others. 
“She doesn’t have to if she doesn’t want to.  If she does, then great! Amazing even! But if she doesn’t, then man, I feel kinda bad because we all got a thing for her.” Hyuck accepts the facts of the predicament. “Hopefully we can laugh about this on New Years.”
“I don’t.  I guess I’m the only one,” the youngest of the group speaks out but it’s not taken seriously by his older friends as a fit of laughter echoes within the small space.  
Hyuck’s the first one to speak– placing a hand on Jisung’s shoulder, “You’re the worst out of all of us.”  
“What are you talking about?”
“You guys always bicker and talk shit but I know all you want to do is rip each other’s clothes off,” Jeno jumps in. “Nice try though.  I almost believed it.”
“I’m not! She’s annoying as hell!”
“So annoying you want to fuck it out of her, right?” Jaemin joins. 
“You guys are jumping me right now, I’m leaving,” Jisung excuses himself earning a look of victory from his friends.
“Wait!  So you agree to it, right? Jisung?!  Hello?”  Chenle and Renjun yell out in unison, but the only reply heard is the slam of a door.  
“You’re serious about this Hyuck?” Mark asks one last time. 
“No, but this is just so those two kids will finally admit they’re down bad for each other.  I think this will be their breaking point.” 
“Damn,” all the other boys yell in unison. 
“I know right? Someone needs to hire me for something!  I don’t know for what, but something!” he crosses his arms to bask in his actions. 
“Yeah, yeah,” Mark laughs at his friend.  “You’re so dumb.” 
“Just wait and see.  He won’t make it to Christmas…”
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Everyone is being… weird. 
On the very first day of December, you and all your friends come together to pick a name out of a jar.  The game of Secret Santa is an annual tradition you love partaking in. But once the weather dropped thirty degrees, all the boys started acting shady.  They were canceling plans with you on purpose, avoiding eye contact when you spoke to any one of them, and just running away the first chance they got.  It was easy to get mad, even call them out for it, but the replies would always be the same– that there was nothing wrong or they were just tired.  
And you’re not going to lie, it was starting to make your skin crawl.  The sudden shift in dynamic between you and the boys has you wondering if you did something wrong. But if they were trying to pull something, then they had another thing coming. It was frustrating, trying to shake it out of them in every way possible, but no one would budge.
December eighth rolls around and you know everyone is free today because you all collectively promised Sunghoon that every year until the day you die, this day will always be open for him.  It’s always an annual trip to the snowy mountains– a secluded cabin and powdery snow that’s fit for snowboarding. Surprisingly, but not so surprisingly, everyone’s busy up until the car ride to the cabin. 
Their persistent avoidance, even for an event like this, just pulls on the strings even harder. 
You’re leaning against the island of the kitchen, glaring into their souls from across the room as the music's bass reverberates throughout the warm cabin; and the bitter liquid in your plastic cup disappears like water down a drain.  
“Why are you standing here all by yourself?” 
You turn to the voice, sporting a grin once you realize who it is. “Hey, birthday boy. Just glaring at the boys.  Don’t know if they notice though,” you squint a little harder, hoping they’ll finally notice. 
Sunghoon’s orbs follow the seven of them scattered around the living room. “They notice alright. I’m sure they’ll come crawling back when they realize you don’t play.” 
“Oh, they know I don’t.  But they’re still gonna try anyway,” you let out a heavy sigh.  “I just wish I knew what they’re up to.  It’s killing me.” 
“Just ask Jisung.” 
“Why Jisung?” The mention of your friend’s name causes the subject of your orbs to shift to him, but he’s already looking your way.  When you make eye contact, he hurriedly glances away, confirming the suspicion that something’s up. 
“I feel like whatever they’re planning, he’s telling them he doesn’t want to do it.” 
“Why is that so detailed? Do you know what they’re up to? Spill right now!”
Sunghoon shakes his head in denial, raising the cup to his lips before responding. “Nah, you guys are always going at it. That’s all. It’s just a hunch.” 
“Fine, maybe I will. But I was gonna do it anyway.” 
You’re already making your way towards Jisung when Sunghoon blurbs out.  “If it doesn’t work, I’m always available.”
“You wish, Park.”  But you stop in your tracks.  “Wait, what?” 
Sunghoon walks off in a hurry, “Nothing! Had to try at least once!” 
Rolling your eyes at the birthday boy, you finally make your way to your destination but all seven of your friends go completely mute once you reach it.  There’s not a sound emitting from them, and it practically forces smoke out of your ears. 
“Okay, what’s going on?”
“What do you mean?” Jeno murmurs.
“You guys have been ignoring me ever since December started! Spill your evil plans right now!” 
“Nothing’s going on,” Chenle adds, but it’s met with a crack of his voice at the final word, and you know one hundred percent they're lying. 
“Haechan! I know you’re the mastermind,” you turn to your friend, but all he does is shrug, eyes still looking everywhere but yours as he nonchalantly sips from his drink. 
“Nothing whatsoever. We’ve just been busy that’s all,” Jisung speaks out, but you chuckle, knowing he’ll eventually give in if you press him hard enough. 
“Of course, you’re a part of this! Sunghoon told me you weren’t, but I doubted him as soon as those words left his mouth!” 
“What is that supposed to mean?” Jisung’s tone changes, as if he’s warning you.
“That little shithead!” Jaemin groans.
“I knew it!” you exclaim.
“What did he tell you?” Renjun interrupts.
“Nothing, just what I said before.”
“Nothing is going on. You don’t believe us?” Jisung is still firm on his decision to make you believe otherwise. With that stupid smirk he’s trying to hide and how his form influences you to shift back. 
“Of course, you’re still on that even though Jaemin just admitted you guys are planning something! You’re the worst!” 
“And you’re a dumbass,” Jisung mumbles once you turn away.
“Look who’s fucking talking,” you don’t realize you’re stepping closer at every syllable exchanged and you don’t know why your friend loves to push your buttons so much.
“You always say I’m the worst and then you come right back.  I don’t think you hate me as much as you say you do,” Jisung’s eyes glimmer with a playfulness to them, closing the space between the two of you as the bickering reaches its climax.  But his words only fuel your rage.
At this point, you can only see red.  
All you do with Jisung is bicker or fight about stupid shit. Your friendship with the other boys is the glue that holds you and Jisung together.  No one could guess that you met all the boys through him. You both had been friends with benefits long ago— practically another lifetime. But you’d jump off a cliff before admitting that the shards of glass remain. And that it still cuts. 
It’s impossible to act like everything is fine and you both can get along.  So instead, you fight and fight until no more words can be said.  
“Ooooo,” you hear Jeno say, reminding you you’re still in a place full of swarming bodies. 
“What about you? You either hate me or you love me. It can’t be both,” you mutter, condemning yourself as you catch a glimpse of his lips hovering above yours.  You're both staring one another down, and you notice the same vein on the side of his temple, and his jaw clenches with each phrase that escapes your lips. 
“Watch it,” Jisung seethes.
“What? If you wanna play this game, let’s pla—“
“Okay! Enough of this,” Hyuck groans before dragging the both of you by the wrist and out of the main room.
“What are you doing Hyuck?” you urgently inquire, but he doesn’t reply.  He only hurriedly rushes along, throwing you both into a bedroom you don’t recognize.  And as you rush to escape the enclosed space, your friend shuts the door in front of your face– leaving you with your hands practically clawing at the door.  
“Lee Donghyuck! Open the fucking door right now!” you yell out, unable to comprehend how your friend could think this was a solution.  “Open the door before I beat your ass!” 
“He’s not going to open the door,” Jisung reminds you of his presence amidst the chaos.  “Not until the morning.”  
“What?! No. No. No. This is not happening right now.”  
“Let’s just sleep.  So when we wake up, we can just get outta here.”  
You scan the room, realizing there’s nothing for you to rest on except the bed in the center– the one Jisung is currently sitting on.  “You think I can fall asleep with everything that’s going on?  And I don’t even know what’s going on,” you’re shifting awkwardly, habitually rocking yourself on the heel of your feet following the eye of the storm.  
“Just sleep.  It’ll be over soon,” Jisung already makes himself comfy, placing his legs under the covers and rearranging the pillow to his liking.  He’s too calm.  Way too calm for what just occurred. 
“Where am I supposed to sleep?” 
“I don’t know, figure it out,” he mumbles, lids already fluttering shut.  You hate how you admire how long his eyelashes are.  
His eagerness to ignore the dilemma influences you to the bed to pry his lids open.  As Jisung opens his eyes willingly, you finally take notice of how close you both are.  His eyes widen at the proximity and he shifts back to the edge of the bed in surprise. You’re caught off guard because there seems to be something lingering in the air between the two of you.  And you brush it off because you know it’s annoyance. 
“Just sleep,” he softly lets out before returning to his original position.  “Next to me.” 
His softness in these last words has you admitting some defeat– realizing fighting won’t solve anything.  “Fine.”  
There are still zero answers that will satisfy your scrambled mind.  
And you’re trapped in a room with someone you can’t stand for more than five minutes.
It’ll be over soon.  Right? 
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You’re fucking drenched. 
As the daze of sleep washes over, you notice the stickiness between your thighs. And not the good kind. 
It felt as if you just entered the fiery pits of hell. 
“What the fuck?” you whine. The air was so humid, you were practically suffocating.  And as you turn to the side, you see an irritated Jisung.  If you thought you looked gross, Jisung didn’t have a dry spot on his clothing.   
You try your hardest not to stare at the clothing sticking to his abs.  This is not the time.
“Don’t,” he warns, thinking you’re about to poke fun at him.
You chuckle at the sight of his discomfort, offering a half-assed apology.  “Sorry.”  
“Lee Donghyuck! Turn off the fucking heater!” he yells out, but there’s no answer.  
“Fuck.  We’re going to die.” 
“I’m not dying here with you.  That’s not how I’m going out.”  
“Is that so bad?  Chill the fuck out,” you roll your eyes. 
“Yes it is! I’m gonna kick the door down and beat Donghyuck’s ass.”
You don’t know if it’s the unbearable heat, or the constant fucking attitude from Jisung all night.  Maybe it was the pent-up frustration from all the other times you both didn’t get along.  But you’ve decided enough is enough. 
“What’s your fucking problem?” 
“What are you talking about?” 
“You’re always so fucking mad at me.  I do nothing and you’re mad.  I breathe and you’re mad.  It pisses me off!  At this point, I should be the one giving you the attitude you give me!”  
“And you know what?  I always cared what you thought.  But not anymore. I’m done caring so pretend I don’t even exist,” your heart is beating out of your chest as the words spill out like vomit.  
“That’s no–” Jisung’s unable to finish his sentence when suddenly his orbs follow your fingertips gripping the hem of your top to bring over your head– leaving you in a bra.  “Wha-”
“It’s hot as shit and I’m not going to suffer.  Do what you want,” you huff, continuing with the removal of your jeans. You notice Jisung's stare lingering on your contours as you eventually pull them off, and it appears as if a million different things are running through his mind when he suddenly glances away and shakes his head.  
You’re not going to lie, it’s amusing seeing Jisung’s usual persona falter. Your boldness and the situation it creates masks the uncomfortable predicament the two of you are in.  “It’s not like you haven’t seen me like this before.”  
“What did you mean by ‘you used to care about what I thought?’” He swallows nervously.
His words have you stopping in your tracks, not realizing your words were true candor. “Nothing, I was just saying nonsense,” is all you can render as you make your way to the bed, but Jisung beats you to it, grabbing your wrist to prevent you from escaping.  
“Tell me. Please.  I know it wasn’t nonsense,” his voice is like syrup, the usual bite to it completely gone.  
You turn to face him, though you regret it the moment you notice how his eyes match his voice. “Well, I cared what you thought because of what we did before we all became friends.  And us… Or whatever we are.  I don’t know what we are now but I cared about you and what you thought about me.”
“Cared?”
“I still do…”  
“Then why do we fight?” 
“I don’t know.  I guess you hate me so I just returned that energy.” 
“I don’t hate you,” he sounds hurt, the similar bite of his voice attempting to escape.  “You annoy the hell out of me, but I could never hate you.”
“Oh…” 
“You really act like you hate me though,” Jisung offers a small smile.  
“I don’t hate you. You’re annoying as hell. And I just don’t know what to do with everything lingering in the air when I’m around you,” you bite your lip at the confession, realizing it wasn’t a very good one. And you see him watch you do so. 
“You mean the tension?” 
“Yeah… The tension… The tension causes us to fight. Right?” The air becomes more suffocating than it already is. Maybe it’s the heat, maybe it’s Jisung so close to you, or how you’re basically naked in front of him.  
“What else would we do?” his eyes are still trained on your lips.  
“I don’t know,” you murmur not above a whisper. “You tell me.”
“Let me try something,” he takes a step forward, shortening the small space between the two of you. “Promise you won’t get mad.” 
“No promises,” you urge, because you’re unsure of what Jisung planned to do after the indirect confessions made in the room today.  One things for sure. This territory hadn’t been visited in ages and it scares the shit out of you.  
“What are you go–” You’re cut off the lips that make its way onto yours. 
When you see Jisung dipping his head down to capture your lips onto his, you're taken aback.  However, the minute he makes contact, your legs almost buckle.  It's a familiar sensation, and you melt into him as he tests the waters with increasing devotion.  
When you reciprocate the kiss, it gets feverish, and your trembling lips work together haphazardly, interwoven with airy sighs.  His arms reach for your waist, pulling you into him harder than ever before.  He knows your body like no one else, and it drives parts of your brain haywire.  It feels like only yesterday that you both would rendezvous.
He groans into your mouth and squeezes your ass as you tug on his hair the way he likes it.  It makes you whimper since the combination of the sloppy kiss and the rush of pleasure is far too satisfying. 
 It feels good.  Way too good.  
That's why when Jisung pulls away, you chase his lips and he emits a small chuckle at the action. “Tell me you missed me.  Tell me you don’t hate me and never did,” his shoulders rise and fall at a rapid pace as he catches his breath. 
“I don’t,” you look up at him, and you want nothing more to kiss him again.  It feels like all the frustration aimed at him was sexual.  It’s honestly his fault for always looking so tempting while offering some smartass retort.  “I never did.” 
"God, I missed you," he smashes his lips against yours again, this time much more aggressive, and the back of your knees reach the edge of the bed, briefly disconnecting your lips.  You laugh, and he smirks before diving back into you as soon as your back comes into contact the mattress.  
Something possesses him at that moment, makes his hands glide up the back of your thighs, to kiss down your neck, sucking and biting to leave small bites that he later licks over to soothe the sting.  “Know how much you love to be marked.” 
“And I know how much you love me choking on your dick,” you giggle, licking a long stripe along his neck up to his jaw.  
“You’re dangerous,” Jisung hooks your thong aside, unsurprised when he notices the sticky arousal coating his fingers.  “Fuck, I forgot how wet you get.” 
“It’s from the heat.”  Your words contradict themselves as noises of pleasure leave your lips when he runs his fingers along your folds.  Jisung, on the other hand, knows the meaning behind your words like no other.  “All this stickiness is from the heat? I don’t think so baby,” he offers some stimulation to your clit and your back arches once he comes in contact with your bud.  
You shake your head and he dips his head down onto your neck offering a small kiss against the side of your neck.  God, he looks so hot, with the sweat dripping down the side of his temple and his puffy lips from kissing.  
The lewd sounds from his fingers running along your folds sends you into a frenzy.  You’re attempting to gain more friction, bucking your hips to feel more.  You’re so needy for his touch.   You've been longing for this touch.  "I'll be nice, baby," he says, inserting one finger inside your hole, your walls engulfing him up to the knuckle.  Jisung experiments with twisting and curling his fingers, enjoying the way you gasp and pulse around his fingertips. 
The wet glide is so satisfying and you moan, basically fucking yourself onto his fingers. “Sung–” is all you can choke out as he begins thrusting with a rhythm you both can’t forget.  “Wai–”
But Jisung can’t withhold any longer, not with you looking so pretty underneath him.  Not with the sounds that he remembers all too well.  His cock practically throbs at these thoughts, begging to be free from its confines when you’re already a mess.  He’s pressing against your clit along with the constant thrust of his fingers.  “Shit, Sung!” you wail, already foreseeing your high from the short time.  
Your nails dig into his forearm, body twitching from the overwhelming pleasure only he can give you.  “Oh, fuck,” the words are combined with a moan as your orgasm takes you by surprise, coating his fingers in a creamy pearl substance.  It drips down your folds as he pulls away, and the wash of the aftermath runs from your toes to the crown of your head.  It’s blissful, but your hunger for him doesn’t stay satiated.  “Good girl,” he says as he revels in your figure. 
“I need you,” you pant.  “Now.”  
“Whatever you say, Mom,” he jokes as he pulls his shirt over his head before discarding the rest of his clothing.  
“Ewww. Never say that again,” you say, earning a laugh from Jisung.  
“Like words ever stopped me before pretty girl.”
He's tugging the side of your panties, dragging them down the side of your legs while practically gaping. He continues with your bra and he gazes, unable to believe everything taking place currently.  You're like a dream, sprawled out beneath him. The pretty girl he could never get close to after being so close with.  
“Ready?” he asks after he shakes himself out of the trance you have him in.  
“Mhm,” you nod.  
He pushes inside, sighing into your ear at the creaminess of your cunt.  Your arms are wrapped around his neck as he bottoms out, fingers burrowing further into his scalp.  Jisung, rather than staying against your neck, takes advantage of the chance to peer at you.  When his nose brushes up against yours, all he sees are your lips caught between your teeth.  
At the feeling of his big cock inside of you, you clench around him.  He groans against your mouth, habitually bucking his hips forward.  “Fuck,” you moan out, back arching at the feel of his cock dragging against your walls. Your brain is already a mess and it has been since the moment he kissed you.  But Jisung loves how you’re a mess around him.  He takes pride in how he makes you feel, and that turns him on beyond belief. 
“Move Sungie, please,”  you plead and Jisung groans at the nickname you know he loves so much.  It’s enough for him to grab your wrists to pin them above your head before he begins moving.  
“Sung,” you call out again when he begins to move.  His calculated movements have you squirming beneath him, but you’re still perfectly fit against him and it’s as if you both never stopped this routine.  
“You’re mine.  I’m not letting anyone touch you,” he coos, and you’re quick to agree.  “Yours.” 
The constant rhythm he keeps has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and you're shivering when he picks up the pace--giving him a look that seems to make Jisung's cock practically explode.  He snaps his hips forward, so close to the edge that you shudder at the perspective. 
He's fucking you so well that your eyesight is fuzzy, and the brush of his dick against the spot that drives you insane only adds to the sensation. "I-I'm so close," you warn, your irregular breathing hitting his face.  
“Wait S-sung-g no.” Just as you’re about to hit your peak, Jisung flips you over so that you’re sitting on his thighs.  Though you’re disappointed in the delay of your orgasm, the angle has his cock pushing deeper than before, tip nudging against your velvety walls harshly.  “Fuck, I can’t,” you beg as your back arches at the smallest movements.  
As fast as words leave his throat, Jisung dips down to suck on your nipple, occasionally leaving purple blossoms.  “Wait I’ll–” 
“You’ll what?” he says, chuckling when he sees you instinctively grinding forward against his member. “Cream my cock?” He watches your fucked out expressions, loving how your eyes are lined with tears.  
“I’m planning on it, “ he smirks before thrusting up into you.  
“J-jisung!” you’re a sobbing mess above him as his harsh thrusts sends pure pleasure up your spine.  His name falls off your lips like a mantra, and the gibberish he can���t make out only urges him to move furiously into you.  Though your brain is a puddle of mush, the band in your lower abdomen is about to snap, so you grind your hips against him with newly found fervor, stimulating your clit in the best way possible. 
Jisung watches you above him as his fingers dig into your waist.  You’re so beautiful, he thinks.  Everything about you, every part of your mind and body he worships, and he swears he’s not going to let go of you this time. 
“S-sung,” you moan again and again, and Jisung continues to abuse your boob, kissing up your throat as you inch closer to your high. “So perfect.” 
You let out a high-pitched moan at a specific thrust, and your thighs tremble against his.  "I got you," he says as he places a gentle kiss on your lips.  And after a few thrusts, you're collapsing against him, again repeating his name.  You're just a lick away from teetering off the edge.  
“I want it so bad,” you blabber against his neck.  “S-so close.  Don’t stop.” 
“Give it to me,” he dips underneath to circle your bundle of nerves with the perfect pressure and you come undone, high-pitched moans and whimpers against his ear.  
 The mix of cum and the slick from prior allows the glide to be that much easier for Jisung to glide against as he tips over the edge as well.  You’re still pulsing and gripping his cock like a vice and it’s a done deal for Jisung.  “Inside?” 
“Inside me,” you kiss the side of his neck.  He feels euphoric as your noises against his ear urges him on and his arms hold you tightly.  And after a few more thrusts and desperate hips, his cum shoots inside you.  “Fuck.” 
It's so much energy that when the sensation of your high washes over you, you collapse against Jisung, who also collapses against the mattress. 
“You’re sticky,” you look at his face and admire how good the afterglow of sex looks on him.  
 Jisung massages little circles across the small of your back in comforting stillness.  
“I’m going to murder Hyuck,” he realizes how much the humidity encases the room. 
“Maybe not too brutal, because his plan to lock us in here so we can finally make up worked,” you notify him and his eyes light up.
“I think everyone’s asleep.  How about we torture them some more?” he smirks at you.  
“I say Hyuck isn’t going to get a wink of sleep tonight,” you mischievously grin and it’s enough for Jisung to dive down and continue drowning in your lips. 
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DECEMBER 31  11:59 PM
“Damn, I can’t believe my plan worked! You guys are attached to the fucking hip,” Hyuck comes over to you and Jisung hand-in-hand.  
10
“Your plan worked for once dumbass,” Jeno butts in abruptly, almost spilling the alcohol in his cup. 
9
“We have no more arguing but I don’t know if it’s worth it,” Jaemin points.  
8
“You guys are like rabbits!” Mark yells out.
7
“Gross! Not the fucking time! I need to find someone to kiss,” Renjun groans. 
6
“Yeah but everything Hyuck does to end our suffering, it just reappears as something else!” Chenle laughs, earning a middle-finger from the subject of his words. 
5
“Guess you were right.  We can laugh about this on New Year's,” Jeno turns to Hyuck.  
4
“Happy new year motherfuckers,” Chenle says before clinking all the cups together.  
3
You turn to Jisung as the clock counts down, his arm around your waist. “Happy New Year, boyfriend.” 
2
“Happy New Year, Girlfriend,” he smiles the hardest you’ve seen him in a while.  
1
“Happy fucking new year,” he says before smashing his lips onto yours. 
Happy fucking new year indeed. 
1K notes · View notes
samkerrworshipper · 7 days
Text
she’s on the run
beautiful girl series part 4 -> pt.1 -> pt.2 -> pt.3
leah williamson x daughter reader, jordan nobbs x daughter reader
this was created whilst i listened to so long, london and florida!!!!
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You waited until Leah had fully descended the stairs, waiting patiently until you heard Lia and her talking in the kitchen before you started to creep off of your bed and towards your open window. It was a easy climb, one you’d made hundreds of times, you hardly batted an eyelid as you climbed out of the window, your legs swinging out and over until they hit the tiling of the roof. After that it was a simple jump from the roof too the gravel drive way, your only concern was trying to be as quiet as possible, so instead of jumping as normal, you stepped to the edge of the tiles, being ever so careful to make sure that you didn’t slip and fall. Once you got to the edge you sat down, scooting until your feet were hanging over the edge, turning onto your stomach and sliding down until your feet found one of the tresses on the side.
It was a odd form of rock climbing but with some arm strength and dodgy footing, you managed to eventually get your feet onto the gravel of your moms driveway.
You didn’t look backwards as you tiptoed across the driveway, the only think you focused on was turning your location off before starting to jog away from your mom’s house.
You didn’t know where you were going, you just knew that you needed to get far enough away that your moms friends who crowded all of the surrounding neighbourhoods couldn’t find you, you needed a way out of here.
You didn’t have a lot of options, and the options you did have were shitty, but there wasn’t really any others that would work.
You pulled your phone out of your pocket as you rounded the corner of the block, ducking into the first alleyway that you spotted.
There were a couple of numbers that were options, some better than others, you went with the first one that came to head.
The phone rings out for a few seconds, your fingers jitter against the sides of your plastic case, whether you feel prepared to admit it or not, you’re going through withdrawals, it’s around now that you’re body is accustomed to shooting up, to getting a hit of drugs and right now it’s becoming more obvious by the minute how desperate your body is for that high that your body is used to receiving.
Maya had become the older sister that you never had, she cared about you, she treated you with more care and love then anybody else in your life, there wasn’t really any hesitation in your mind as you pressed down on her contact, the ringing noise being the only thing to register in your mind.
It rang out for a while, before your phone went silent for a few seconds.
Originally, you thought that it had rung out, but then there was a groan and something else from the other side of the phone.
“Babygirl?”
You don’t know where the nickname had come from, but along the way it had just become the way that Maya had chosen to address you.
“Hey, I need your help, where are you?”
You heard some rustling, and then Maya’s voice.
“I’m still at Matt’s house, what’s happened?”
Fuck. Fuck.
Matt was a problem, but he was one of the only people who could solve your main problem right now, that was all that was at the forefront of your mind.
“Mom found out about the drugs, she took them off me. I’m crashing, can you come get me?”
More rustling, then someone talking in the background.
“Fuck, kid. I’m gonna come get you alright, we’ll get you to Matt’s house and he’ll look out for you, it’s gonna be okay, we’ll look after you, I always look out for my girls.”
More rustling, accompanied by more background talk.
“Just send me your location alright, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
You nod your head, taking in the information and finding that your hands and body seem to relax with the knowledge that there is a resolution coming.
“Okay, okay, thank you, thank you, I love you.”
Maya’s like you, or at least you try to tell yourself that. She’s never had anyone who loved her, she’s all by herself. That’s what you tell yourself, that nobody’s ever loved you, that you’re all alone, she tells you the same. That nobody will love you like a good high, that your all alone, that you always will be. To start with, you thought it was all nonsense, that to her you were just a means of getting money, but after hearing it enough, after realising the truth behind her words, you thought it must be true, she was older than you, she’d seen more of the world than you had.
You stayed hunched over in the alleyway, ignoring the buzzing on your phone that meant your mother had realised you were gone. You felt a pang of compassion in your heart, just briefly. You didn’t want to worry her, you didn’t want to think about the anguish that would have crossed Leah’s face when she’d returned to your bedroom to find it empty, even worse if it was Jordan.
Consciously, you didn’t care, not really, all you cared about was the fucking high that you were missing out on. But the eight year old version of you, somewhere in the lowest pit of your heart felt horrifically bad.
It took fifteen minutes of you being hunched against a brick wall, hiding from the view of the street, shaking and shivering before you were hit with the light of headlights, coming from the end of the alleyway.
You stayed hidden, just in case it was your mother or somebody else, staying crouched down behind a bin.
“Babygirl, let’s go.”
You stood up properly, your body straightening out and beginning to walk towards the far to bright white lights.
You sat down in the passenger seat, closing the door behind you as swiftly as possible.
Maya captured you in a hug before you could do anything, her arms wrapping around your neck and torso.
“I’m so proud of you, you’re in good care, I’ll look out for you, me and Matt and the girls, you’re in good company.”
You nodded your head against her shoulder, slowly pulling yourself from her embrace.
Her pupils were dilated, your brain didn’t consider the danger behind her being high, more jealous that she was riding on a happy cloud that you were craving to be on.
The drive felt longer than it should have, your phone buzzed relentlessly the whole way there, it took everything in you not to look down and block the numbers that you knew were ringing, but you didn’t have it in you.
You didn’t like the feeling that hit your gut when you rolled up to the same house that you’d stumbled out of a couple nights ago, you loved Maya, you loved drugs, what you didn’t love was the overwhelming fear that you felt at having to face the same man who had done those horrible things to you days ago. Maya must have noticed, or seen something was up with you.
“Something wrong, darlin?”
She was 23, closer to your Mom’s age then yours, she cared about you.
“Matt, he didn’t want money for the drugs, he wanted something else.”
You expected, or you hoped that Maya would be shocked, but she wasn’t, not in the slightest.
“I think you’ll find babygirl that your body is the most powerful form of payment, men will do anything for a woman’s body, it’s good you learn that young. Matt provides a lot, drugs, care, a house, give him what he wants and he’ll treat you well.”
You stuttered on your words.
“W-what if I don’t want it?”
Maya put her hand on your cheek, squeezing firm enough to make it sting slightly.
“There is no such thing as not wanting it. We’re primal, we crave to be touched and wanted, he’s just teaching you that. It’s an eye for an eye. You get your high, he gets what he wants. It works out for everyone. He’s just trying to keep you safe, just trying to make you feel loved, it’s the only kind of love there is.”
In your core, in your brain, you know it’s untrue, Maya believes in what she’s saying though, or at least she appears to.
“Now c’mon, let’s get you upstairs, get you some artificial assistance.”
She pats you on the shoulder, before opening up the door on her side of the car and stepping out. You let go of the breath that you’d been holding in. Maya is like your big sister, she cares about you, she would never intentionally hurt you, she’s the only person who really gives a shit about you.
You open the car door without much more hesitation, having convinced yourself that she’s right, and more that once you shoot up that your brain will quiet down and all of your doubts will be silenced.
Maya leads you into the house, it’s a lot emptier than it was the other day, a lot less people sprinkled across all of the surfaces, instead there are a few girls and Matt, who’s right in the middle of all of them.
“Pretty girl, didn’t think I’d see you back so soon.”
He’s voice is drawling, slightly tilted.
You didn’t have anything to say that wouldn’t come off as rude, so you simply smiled at him, as well as you could considering the bile that was in your stomach just at the thought of the man in front of you.
“She got kicked out, needed some place to go, I told her there is always room for her here.”
Matt nodded and smiled, his hands were all over the women around him, you tried your hardest to keepy your eyes on his face and not the company he was keeping.
“Of course, I look out for my girls. You craving pretty girl? You need something?”
You nodded your head, hopefully, you were desperate, the emotional nature of what you’d just been through with your mother enough to be slowly pushing you towards the edge.
“Maya take her upstairs, the speed is in my bedside draw, I’ll be up in a bit.”
Maya smiled and nodded, grabbing you by the shoulder and pushing you towards the same stairs you’d stumbled down just a few days ago.
You tried not to feel completely daunted as you were tugged upstairs, your shaky legs carrying you the distance to the bedroom that you’d been in less than twenty for hours ago.
It was the same position, same place, same everything.
It was hard not to feel completely terrified.
Maya led you over to the bed, sitting you down whilst she rustled in the bedside table.
It was silent, calm, as peaceful as you could feel in your current situation, until your phone started buzzing again.
“Answer it, let them know you’re fine.”
You looked ay Maya like she was crazy, she sure seemed it.
“Excuse me?”
Maya looked up from her spot rustling through the drawer.
“They’ll leave you alone if you answer, let them know you’re fine and not dead in a ditch somewhere.”
You gulped, pulling your phone out of your pant pocket and looking at the flashing contact of your mom, your finger hesitating over the green button before clicking on it.
“Bubba? Bubba? Jord, she answered, I’ve got her.”
The exhale of relief that you heard leave your mom’s lips was one of pure happiness.
“Mom, please don’t ahte me, please don’t hate me.”
You could always deal with the thought or realisation that your mom didn’t love you, but having her hate you, it would do things to you that you couldn’t handle.
“Bubba where are you? I don’t hate you, I could never hate you, I love you so much bubba. Just let me know where you are, we’ll come get you, we’ll sort this out.”
Your mom sounded more desperate than you’d ever heard her.
“I’m okay mom, I’m okay, I’m safe.”
Another exhale of relief.
“Look bubba, all your aunties are out looking for you, me and Jord have been worried sick, just let me know where you are, please. I’m so worried about you bubba, look, just come home, we can figure out the drug stuff, me and mama will get you all the help you need, we’ll make it all better, just come home.”
It had been hardly two hours since you’d slipped out of your window, you didn’t want to know how stressed your mom would have gotten had it been six or twelve.
“Mom I know I did wrong, trust me, I know. But you want me to go to rehab, you want me to get better, and trust me I want it, but I can’t do it, please.”
You heard something being dropped and then a button being pressed.
“Chick, listen to me, your mom and I are worried sick, you need to come back home. We’ll sort it all out, we’ll get you the help you need, but you need to come home, just tell us where you are.”
The feeling of the rubber tourniquet being tied to your upper arm and a needle prodding at your vein distracted you slightly.
“Look mom, I’m in good company, I’m safe, I love you both but I can’t do rehab, I can’t do getting better, I’m not ready, I’m not strong enough for that, I’m not like you and mom, I can’t be strong and brave, I can’t tough it out when it gets hard. I just need you to love me from a distance and understand that I’m doing whats best for me.”
Maya looks on proudly, it feels like your saying things to appease her and that makes you feel good, the validation of having her smile at you and nod her head at you, it wasn’t love but it was something close, the closest you felt in a while.
“Bubba, listen to me. You are so strong, everything you’ve been through in your life, it’s nothing in comparison to this. You don’t need the drugs, you don’t. This isn’t you bubba.”
You think that deep down, Leah and Jordan have no idea who you are anymore. The injection into your bloodstream only solidifies those thoughts.
“This is me mom, this is who I am now. I was like you and jord’s perfect little child, your perfect girl but that’s not me anymore. I’m not the same kid, this is me.”
You swore you heard a sob, or sniffle from the other side of the line.
“Bubba, we’ll sort this out, just come back home, please.”
You shook your head, enjoying the feeling of your blood circulating the drugs that had just hit your system.
“I can’t do that mom’s, I love you, and I’m so grateful for you but I can’t come home, I just can’t mom, bye.”
Before either of them could reply to you, you pressed down on the hang up button, throwing your phone to the end of the bed and leaning back, letting the high begin to sink in.
The bed sunk down next to you, Maya’s arm snaking around your waist.
“Good job babygirl, I’m proud of you, you’ve got me, I’ll look out for you, I look out for all of my girls.”
If you were sane, you’d probably ask yourself the question of what kind of person looked out for their people by giving them drugs and subjecting them to sexual assault, but with the drugs running through your veins and the relief starting to hit your brain, you couldn’t find you in it to care.
“Feels good.”
Maya brought your head to her neck, it was warm, happy, nice.
“I know babygirl, feels so good doesn’t it?”
You nod your head, the bliss starting to really get to you, your whole body feeling the affects of it.
Everytime you get high you think it’ll last forever, that the overwhelming numb happiness will last permanently. Every time you shoot up, you think that maybe it’ll all get better, that the feeling you’ve been searching for, will finally set in. It doesn’t though.
You come to the conclusion that it must be a more pure solution, or more concentrated because it’s getting to your head a lot quicker than normal.
You don’t even notice when Matt slips into the room, too busy processing the overwhelming feeling of the drugs rushing through you. It’s good, it feels good, until the bed dips on the other side of you and a hand is on your waist.
Your body is too numb to try and fight back, even if you had the energy or will to, you doubt you’d be strong enough.
There are words being spoken around you, hands all over your body.
You can’t open your eyes, can’t even try to understand what is happening to you.
You bite down on your lip, as your pants are tugged down.
You dissasociate it, disassociate the hands on you, dissasociate the feeling of being violated, enjoy the fact that the mixture of the drugs in your system and pain coming from your lip manage to be enough to distract from the pain being inflicted on you.
It’s primal, it’s an eye for an eye, it’s a form of payment.
Some time during the process, you drift off, whether it’s from the drugs or pain you aren’t sure, you just know that the sweet mixture of the meth seems to be enough.
You wake up with an arm around you, your silently terrified to open your eyes and find out who, but you’re also in pain and a little bit too curious for your own good. You’re grateful that the hands are Maya’s, it’s a small win. Your head is still dazed, it feels good, but you’re itching for something, itching for more.
“Hey babygirl.”
It’s light outside, it has of been a couple of hours and based on the pain between your legs you don’t want to know what’s happened in the couple of hours you’ve been unconscious.
“You feeling a bit better?”
You nod your head, focusing in on the daze and not the itch across your body and the pain your experiencing.
“You’ve been such a good girl for Matt and I, doing exactly how we pleased, we’re so proud of you.”
It’s the kind of praise you’ve been searching for months. Growing up, for your mom’s, you’d always been the perfect child, a pathological people pleaser. You’d always been told you were independent, in the end though it had all just been loneliness. You grew up to quickly, from the moment you were in foster care, passed around like a piece of trash, there was no option but for you to be lonely. Then you moved in with Jordan and Leah, and they had each other, you were still alone. You didn’t allow for yourself to make mistakes, you had a chance with them, if you were anything less than perfect then how could they want you? You were a student, a star athlete, polite, a perfectionist to your core. You took on all of the burden during the breakup, you were there for both of your mom’s through it all, yet you were the one who was always at the brunt of their anger and discontent. You weren’t worthy of their love, not when the perfect child stopped being perfect because of the pressure, because of the self-hatred that had manifested inside of you since the first people to show you love had broken apart, leaving you empty on the inside.
You blamed yourself for a lot of it, Leah and Jordan had been fine before you, it was like as soon as you entered their life it was just a ticking time bomb, you wrecked everything, you were a semi truck that drove through people, pulled everyone and everything in it’s way a part.
Maya knew how it felt, she’d broken people a part, she knew what it felt like to be all alone, she’d taught you that it was okay, that it was okay to be lonely.
She cared about you, she understood you, she wanted you.
“More, need more.”
She looked into your eyes and you felt understood, like she knew exactly what you were going through and knew how to patch up and fix all of your problems.
“Alright babygirl, just give me a second and we’ll get you juiced up, huh? You deserve it, you’ve been such a perfect girl for us.”
Maya removed her body from yours, reaching over to the bedside table, rummaging through it the same way she did last night.
Your body was still vibrating with the endorphins, the dopamine was filling your head, replacing everything in you that felt dead and broken, it felt so good, it was the feeling that you craved, the reason that you’d given everything else up, because it made you feel more content and fulfilled then anything else.
You were scared of losing it, scared of losing touch with the feeling that you were relying on.
You craved her praise, craved the drugs, craved the nothingness that came from having everything around you turn into nothing, all of the feelings, all of the struggle, all the pain and suffering turned into dust.
It was what made your life worth living, without the high you didn’t think your life would even remotely worth living for, you had nothing, you had nobody, you were alone.
Maya was quicker with her mannerisms, she knew what she was doing.
You’d never seen her do needles before the last twenty four hours, but you also weren’t that shocked. She had the tracks along her arms, the attitude that seemed like she could. She was the one who’d introduced you to drugs, it had started with a bit of pot, then coke, then heroin, then any pill that you could find and eventually, speed.
You’d been tentative at first, speed was more addictive than any other drug, speed did bad things to a body, methamphetamines were a druggies worst enemy. You’d met cokeheads and some of the most addicted heroin junkies and yet plenty of them had told you that they would never touch meth, that it was too intoxicating.
Meth took control of a persons body, penetrated the system faster than most drugs, meth got into your head, it changed a person for the worse.
You wanted that though, you were seeking for that. You were seeking for something to take control of you, something to change you, something to change the way your brain was wired.
It felt so good, you’d never been into needles either, avoided them like they were the plague, but with the plastic tourniquet strapped onto your arm and the cold point of the needle pressing against your inner arm.
It was the best feeling in the world, the best feeling known to man.
You felt like you were on the peak of Mount Everest, like you were unstoppable.
It was the same feeling you’d once gotten from just being in a room with your moms, the same feeling you’d gotten after a good game of football, the same feeling you’d gotten out of getting a good mark back on a test.
A while ago, a time that you don’t like to think about anymore, it all came naturally. Your body did hunger for that kind of attention because it received it naturally, it didn’t have to worry about when the next burst of serotonin would come. You didn’t have to create your own sensation, like you do now, you didn’t have to put yourself on a constant calendar to keep yourself sane, to make sure that you stayed happy enough to stay alive.
You didn’t think about the fact that you’d shot up a couple of hours ago, that you’re body was only just now learning to absorb intravenous drugs, that you were more dosed up then you had been in your entire life and now you were adding gasoline to the fire inside of you, you didn’t care, all you wanted was for this feeling to keep lasting, for the pain in your stomach from everything that you knew had happened but couldn’t recollect to be numbed by the drugs that you were craving.
You felt alive when the needle pressed into your arm, it made you feel like you were unstoppable, enlightened, like nothing could stop you. It was a strak contrast to how you felt when you were sober, when you were sober, you felt like the weight of the world was resting on your shoulders, that you were responsible for all the people that were around you and if you failed them then you were no better than the little traumatised girl that had been handed to your moms all those years ago.
You tried to ignore the odd chest pain that set in as the drugs mixed in with your blood, or tried your very best at least, it was hard though, when the initial pain started to turn into a skin splitting sensation you tried your best to pay no mind to it.
It was odd, you figured it might be a new effect you were unearthing, needles gave a different high in comparison to your normal, it was understandable that their would be different effects.
For the first time though, in a long time, you weren’t overcome with the near overwhelming relief that normally flooded you, the pain in your chest was to strong, instead of your heart slowing, your pain subsiding and all the thoughts quieting down, it felt like you were going into overdrive, hyperaware of everything that resided inside of you. Your chest was hurting, your heart was beating at a abnormally fast pace and your brain hurt, like it was rattling around inside of your head, bruising the inside of your skull and cracking it into pieces as every second passed.
“Maya, maya.”
It was a croak, yourr eyes being forced open as you took sharp, short breaths.
“You’re okay babygirl, deep breaths, it’ll feel good any minute.”
Except it wasn’t feeling good and it was feeling worse as every second passed. Your skin was prickly, hot and red and burning all over, your heart felt like it was beating faster than it had ever before and everything about how you were feeling felt so inexplicably wrong.
“Not good, not good, not good.”
Maya’s hand was on your face, patting at you like you were a dog, like you were a pet to her.
“Ride it out, you’ve got it babygirl, it’ll pass.”
It wasn’t passing though, it wasn’t, nothing about how you felt was passing at all.
You could feel your control of your body start to fade, you didn’t understand how or why, you didn’t understand what was happening, you knew though that whatever this was, whatever you’d taken or been given, it wasn’t good. It felt like poison inside of you, slowly taking control of every thing inside of you, like something was eating you up from the inside, as every moment surpassed.
You wanted to think that it was going to be fine, that you were just experiencing some kind of heightened high from the buildup in your system, but there was something overwhelmingly odd and wrong about how you felt, it was real, realer than any drugs had made you feel.
Drugs were artificial, and they made you feel artificially happy, or numb, somewhere between those two. Drugs had never made you feel real and tangible, like you were more of a human than anybody else, but right now, you felt more personified then you ever had, like you were so synched with your body that it was too much, too much feelings, too much pain, to much of everything.
You struggled to get out anymore words, between the feeling of your heart beating the speed of light and your chest being too tight for any oxygen to enter your airway.
You supposed she got the message when your body started to shake, your eyes rolling into the back of your skull as your body struggled to cope.
You heard her scream, felt her pick up your body, in blinks of your eyes you made out the staircase, the entryway, Matt in your line of sight.
You get traded into his arms, arms that make you feel tense and uncomfortable, something your body seems to react to because the tremors or seizures, or whatever the fuck your experiecing only worsens.
You blink in and out of consciousness as you’re taken from the house, into the backseat of somebody’s car, Maya and Matt seated in the front, murmuring to each other as you violently shook in the backseat, your consciousness fading as your body became less connected to you.
You weren’t sure where you were going, where drug addicts thought it was a good idea to take a person fucked up out of their minds, you hoped it wasn’t back to your mothers, or rehab, you seriously doubted the latter considering that two addicts themselves were more likely to take you to a fucking graveyard instead of rehab.
You knew neither of them were talking to you, just talking between the two of them, you hoped they were getting you some kind of help, that the two of them would stick by you and find you some help, Maya loved you, Maya was the only person who cared, she would get you help, she would stop this feeling, she would fix it.
You couldn’t see, you couldn’t control your body, you couldn’t feel any sensations across your skin beside the burning created by the lack of oxygen being circulated throughout you. It was like the drugs were slowly infiltrating every part of you, that the veins which mapped out your body underneath your skin were being pumped full of the toxic substance that you’d been so desperate to fill yourself with.
It must have been a bad reaction, or something you’d taken was laced, probably with fentanyl or something that was mixing badly, fentanyl was renowned for being one of the worst things to combine with meth, opioids and stimulants were bad together, it was probably the two forms mixing together inside of you, creating a horrible chemical concoction of reactions inside of you.
You couldn’t keep yourself awake for most of the car ride, there were patches of consciousness, patches where your eyes would open just for them to close once again.
You were awake when the car stopped, not awake enough to catch a glimpse of where you’d stopped at but awake enough to hear the car engine turn still on. The passenger door opened, then footsteps, then the backseat door beside you opened.
Maya picked you up, or at least that’s who you thought had your arms around you, your eyes were forced shut so you didn’t have any confirmation.
A few steps were taken, fast ones, and then she was squatting like she intended to put you down, and then she did.
You didn’t know how or why or where, you just knew that it was cold, there was rain drizzling down on your face, your body was shaking more than ever and you could hear the footsteps getting further and further away from you, then the sound of a car door being opened and shut and the car pulling away.
You were in agony, there was no other way to put it.
You’d been abandoned before, it was nothing new for you, it only reinforced the idea that you were simply incapable of keeping people in your life, nobody wanted you long term, you weren’t made for long term love, you were like a toy to a child. Fun and entertaining for a short amount of time, before you were forgotten and then eventually, thrown away.
You passed out before you could think more about the toy comparison, cold, alone and forgotten.
465 notes · View notes
xhoneygirlxx · 8 months
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In My Feels
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Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
summary: Steve’s heart now belongs to the pretty woman who always comes in with her two adorable kids. When he finally decides to make a move, he’s shocked to find out she’s not their mom.
warnings: fluff. Barista!Steve. Reader and Steve are both in their 20’s. Nanny!Reader. Modern!au. Readers ethnicity/skin tone is not mentioned. Pictures above are used for aesthetic purposes only. Shitty writing/grammar errors, not proofread.
*if I miss anything please let me know.
a/n: day two of my birthday bash has finally arrived!! I’m so grateful for the amount of love and support you guys have given me. Although this is my birthday week, I wanted to spend it with you guys and give us both something we can enjoy :) I love every single one of you guys and I hope you like this!
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Now I’m in my feels 
Way up in the clouds somewhere now 
Don’t know what’s real 
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Working at the Java Cup, Steve dealt with a lot of different people. Tired students, doctors and nurses coming and going from shifts, and everyone in between. During the six months of his employment there only one customer seemed to catch his attention, you. 
From the moment you walked in he knew he was fucked. With one kid on your hip and the other in the stroller, you already had him in the palm of your hand. No matter what, rain or shine, you and your two kids always came in with bright smiles. Although a lot of your interactions were small talk or your older son trying to, his heart infatuation for you every single time. 
You were so fucking beautiful and Steve was nothing but a fool for you. So many times he would go home and just pray that you weren’t taken, that maybe somewhere written in the stars there was a chance for him. 
Steve wanted to ask you out but every single time he chickened out, throwing out multiple cup sleeves that had horrible puns written on them in the process. Ever since getting broken up with by Nancy, his self esteem and confidence dropped. No matter how many times his best friend and coworker, Robin, tried to talk some sense into him, he just couldn’t do it. 
It was comical watching him stutter and blush scarlet every time you would speak, tripping over his words like it was his first time ever talking. Because he was so smitten with you, his insecurities grew and poking fun at him any time he would think about possibly asking you out.
Here you were, a pretty mom with two adorable kids that he adored, so sweet and kind to him, and so far out of his league. There was no pot at the end of this rainbow for Steve, but he continued to chase it in hopes that maybe, just maybe he was wrong.
Now it's been six months and Steve has run out of steam, his legs growing tired and his lungs burning with exhaustion with how long he's been running. So, he's decided that it's time to give up on his mission to of getting to the finish line.
There was no point to continue trying, not when you're probably more than happy with the father of your children, going home to your white picket fence and happy home. So he pulled back, watched from behind the counter, and continued to daydream about the life he's always wanted.
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“You know you could just go talk to her, right?” Robin’s voice is louder than she thinks, the low music and hum of the espresso machine doing little to cover it up. 
“Say it louder, why don’t you.” Rolling his eyes, Steve continues to wipe down the counter that he’s been working on for the past ten minutes. 
“I’m just sayin’, it’s kind of pathetic and creepy that you’re always staring.” Shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly, the brunette girl runs her hands down her black apron. “Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?” 
“What’s the worst-” Turning on his heel quickly, Steve stares at his best friend with wide eyes, “Robin, there is a laundry list of things that could go wrong.” 
“Yeah? Try me.” Crossing her ankle over the other, Robin leans on the sink with a waiting look.
“Firstly, she could be married,” Steve starts counting on his finger. 
“No ring on her finger.” Robin counters. 
“Well she’s a mom with two kids, I doubt she has time for a twenty something, no good, barista that barely has his life together.” 
“EEEEEEEE WRONG,” She makes a loud buzzer noise, “One you aren’t no good, you’re actually a really great person who needs to see just how amazing he is. Two, you may be a barista who can barely keep his life together but, you’re reliable and take care of yourself, not to mention you have your own car and place, more than other twenty somethings. And lastly, you’re also a mother to a group of teenagers, so it works perfectly.” 
Dropping his hands down to his sides, Steve lets the words settle into his heart. He was a good person, he did have a good impression with the gaggle of kids he sometimes watches, and he did have some of his life together.
“Okay well, she could reject me and I will not only lose more of my confidence but I’ll also lose my favorite customer.” Sighing in defeat, he whips the rag that still sits in his hand over his shoulder. "Either way, I gave up on that dream a long time ago."
Robin shakes her head, stepping forward to the boy she calls her best friend and shakes him by the shoulders. “You are Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington! There was a reason everyone called you king Steve and it wasn’t just because you were a huge dick.” 
“Hey!!” Steve raises his voice in defeat and she waves him off continuing her peptalk. 
“Listen, I know that lady killer is somewhere in there,” She pokes at his chest, “So you’re gonna put your big boy panties on, walk up to her and ask her out! I’m sick and tired of watching you look all sad and depressing, so you’re going to do as I say or I’ll do it for you.” Smiling brightly at him, the girl taps him lovingly on the shoulder.
Robin may be a lot of things, including annoying, but a liar is not one of them. Steve knows that she will one hundred percent walk up to you, throw him under the bus, with a mega-watt smile as she does it.
Watching his friend walk around the counter with a broom and dust pan in hand, her head turns to wear your sat at a table by the front window, talking to your older son, rocking your baby in the stroller with your foot. Turning her attention back to Steve, she smiles wickedly and turns slightly like she’s heading your way. Anxiety rises in the back of his throat, heartbeat picking up and banging hard in his chest.
“Fine, I’m going just- fuck off.” It comes out through gritted teeth. Running a shaking hand down the front of his apron, Steve rounds the counter muttering something under his breath.
As he walks to the table, Robin gives him two thumbs up and an exaggerated smile to which he replies by simply throwing a middle finger up at her.
As he steps closer to your table the thought of turning back around and hiding in the back room comes into mind.
There’s no pot of gold here, only gray clouds and roaring thunder. He can turn back now and continue his sorrowful journey of pining.
But then he looks at you, smiling and laughing at something the young boy next to you said, eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back. What a beautiful way to die, Steve thinks. The thunder and lightning is all worth it when he gets to see you as he takes his final breaths.
“H-hey,” His voice is wobbly, nervousness clearly showing as he speaks.
“Hi Steve.” Your eyes meet his, saccharine smile tugging on the corners of your lips.
“Hi steeb!” The young boy next to you waves while clutching a red crayon in his tiny hand.
“Hi Aidan. How are you little man?” Steve seems to loosen up a bit, the presence of your son lets him exhale just slightly.
“M’colorin a pixture.” The small boy’s tongue pokes between his lips, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he draws what looks like a demented stick figure.
“It looks good, little dude.” Steve encourages, cooing sweetly at him.
“Fanks.” Still focusing on his picture, the smaller boy grabs a different crayon from the box that sits on the table.
“What’s up, Steve?” You ask, still rocking the stroller back and forth with your tennis shoe covered foot.
“Oh-h yeah, um I was just gonna ask, ah what you were doing.” Just like a switch, he’s back to being a fumbling doofus.
You giggle at him and he feels his cheeks tingle with heat. Looking between the two kids, you look back up to the older man in front of you.
“Well, I’m enjoying a coffee while Aidan colors and Bella naps peacefully.” You nod your head slowly, eyeing the barista questioningly.
Steve wants to slap a hand on his forehead, embarrassed by the fact he can’t even formulate one sentence.
“Yeah, no I see that. Seems fun, I mean not fun but like ya know, seems-“ His stammering is cut off by your soft voice.
“Are you okay? You seem really nervous.” Your eyebrows are pinched together, worry painted on your features.
“Me? I’m great, fantastic!” It comes enthusiastic and way louder than he intended, so loud that Robin hears and instantly facepalms.
“Well, that’s great Steve.” You’re still eyeing him suspiciously and he really wants to jump ship.
“I’m just gonna go and do my ugh, my stuff.” Hooking a thumb over his shoulder, spinning on the ball of his feet leaving before he can say anything else embarrassing.
No, he can’t leave now, not when he’s made it this close to the finish line. This is what he’s been waiting for, the treasure he’s been searching for. It’s no or never and he can’t go back to praying the same prayer that somewhere in this universe you two were destined to be.
With a new found confidence, he turns right back into the eye of the storm and faces it head strong.
“Actually, I came over here because I wanted to know if maybe you’d like to go out sometime.” His chest is puffed out like, more sure of himself than he’s ever been.
The confidence that’s surging through him starts to falter when he reads your expression. You, and Aidan who has now stopped coloring, stare at him with bugged out eyes and gaping mouths.
“Only if that’s okay with you and all. If you want you can bring the kids along and we can go get ice cream and stuff but if you need it I have some friends who are great with kids and who will be willing to babysit for you.” He’s back peddling, trying to give you a way out in case you want to reject him it won’t hurt so bad.
“Oh Steve,” it’s said with pity and he knows the lighting strike is about to hit, “I-I’m not their mom.”
“Yeah no I get it, sorry if I- wait..” Stopping in his tracks, he looks back and forth between you and the small boy, connecting the dots in his head. “You’re not their mom?”
You and Aidan share a look before giggling together. Gazing back up at the flustered man in front of you, you smile kindly at him.
“No, I’m their nanny, Steve. Although I love them like they’re my own, they’re not.”
“Oh.” Steve continues to stare at you, his pretty pink lips in the shape of an O.
“Yeah, I just watch these little guys.” You shrug your shoulders.
“That’s still cool, I mean the offer still stands.” Even though he’s confused, his voice is a little shaky when he asks.
“Do the kids still have to come?” You ask and Aidan shouts an offended “hey”.
“I mean they can if you want, it’s all up to you.” He eyes you, waiting for your reaction but your expression doesn’t give him much to go on.
“Hmmm, I’m going to have to ask my trusted right hand man.” Holding a finger up at him, you leave over to the smaller boy next to you.
Aidan covers you hear with a small hand trying to cover the movements of his lips, even though Steve can still his his muffled whispers from where he stands.
Shaking your head, you repeat back uh huh’s to him, taking everything that’s being said seriously.
Moving back to your upright position, you stare at Steve with a serious gaze.
“Well, my counsel says I should go but you have to buy me ice cream. No buts about it.” Your straight face begins to falter when Steve’s white teeth shine at you.
“Yeah, I’ll get you whatever ice cream you want.” Steve bobs his head, cheeks flaring pink and eyes shining brightly.
“You can’t kiss, only mommies and daddies do dat stuff.” Aidan pipes in and Steve can’t help but chuckle with how the little boys face is scrunched up with intensity.
“Yes sir.” Steve gives the little boy a solute, while sending you a sneaky wink, and the kid quickly accepts.
“So, I’ll text you?” Steve asks
“Yeah, I’d like that.” Your bottom lip is tucked between your teeth as you say it.
“Okay, cool cool. I’ll ah, see you later.” Steve nods his head, backing away from the table slowly.
Sprinting to the backroom, he sees Robin who pretends like she hasn’t been listening in.
“Robs, I fucking did it!” Steve whisper yells, still cautious knowing your still out there.
“I honestly thought you were gonna back out for a second! I’m so proud of you for hanging in there!”
The two of them start hopping around like jumping beans, beaming so brightly they can outshine any star in the sky.
“So you got her number?” Robin asks, heavily breathing from all their excitement.
“Fuck-“ stopping dead in his tracks, Steve bolts to the door and back out to the front.
That’s where he finds you’ve already left and he’s heartbroken. The only memory that you were even there is your lingering perfume that sticks to the air.
You’ll probably be back some time soon but he’s still a little let down knowing he didn’t fully seal the deal. Looking closely at the table, he notices Aidan left one of his drawings.
Picking up the paper, he looks at it closely realizing Aidan didn’t leave it, you did.
Steve,
You left before I could give you my number. I didn’t want to disrupt your little party or anything.
Can’t wait to get that ice cream.
-your favorite customer
683-027-9305
Folding up the paper, Steve sticks it in the pocket of his apron.
“Don’t worry Steve, she’ll be back.” Robin calls out from behind the counter, apparently not seeing the little not that was left.
“I know she will.” It’s said quietly but the smile on his lips isn’t.
It’s beautiful on this side of the rainbow, Steve thinks, the pot of gold was so worth all the work. Robin was right, he still had it.
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Thank you all for joining me on this second day of my celebration!!! I hope you all enjoy!! Love you all ❤️
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1K notes · View notes
pray4byron · 3 months
Note
After Reading the Proposal and Wedding One shot I think it's called?
Can I please request the same characters(Adam, Lucifer and Vox) react to there kid having there Powers and how GN Reader and Them deal with it in an everyday bases
oh my god my brain has so many ideas i’m doing this right the freak now
also i’m so sorry this isn’t necessarily gn!reader becuz this does talk about pregnancy 😭
Warnings: AFAB!reader, pregnancy talk, ooc Adam?(?), swear words, potential S1 spoilers, Vox being a bit of a shitty dad
Adam, Lucifer, Vox w/ kids who have their powers (+ extra)
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Adam
You and Adam probably wait awhile after your wedding until having kids, he wants to have his party lifestyle a little longer, and cmon, who can blame him?
At first he isn’t so sure, I mean, a small ball of flesh that just cries wasn’t the most entertaining thing to him… But he’ll do it for you
But the moment you tell him your pregnant, something in him clicks.
He’s very invested in the kids before their even born, he’s reading all those cheesy and old baby books constantly, cause honestly, he’s not as prepared as he’d thought he’d be
Simply because I see Adam as both a boy dad and a girl dad let’s say you two have twins 😛
He’s a good dad not gonna lie, but let’s be real, he tried to make at least one of his kids say “feces” as their first word… yeah, you weren’t too happy. 😀
Growing up, he definitely spoiled his girl and roughhoused with his boy, maybe a bit too much…
He was definitely a baseball or softball dad
Considering Adam’s foul language, they definitely grew up at swearing at a young age, but it stayed in the house dw
As the kids grew into their early teens they discovered their shared their dads powers — and bitch was through the roof about it
Adam started training them on how to use their powers to their liking, but also taught them the safety of them. He was actually a pretty good teacher ngl.
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Lucifer
Obviously, from his past marriage with Lilith, he already had his first kid, so he was ready — he was just waiting for you to be as well
So when you were, he was stoked !
He was very aware and attentive during your pregnancy, trying to not make the same mistakes he did the first time around
He’s also very understanding about mood swings and he WILL go out in the middle of the night to get you cravings, he doesn’t have to, but he will
But when you both bring another daughter Morningstar into the world, Charlie is thrilled to have a younger sister!
She definitely babysits a lot, and the child definitely spends a lot of time in the hotel
Luci dedicates certain times of the day when he can not and will not have meetings or projects to be working on so he can dedicate time to both of his daughters.
He loves asking your daughter how her day was, and how schools going, but he also asks how her friends are to stress that grades aren’t the only thing that matter
As your daughter grows, she starts to develop Lucifer’s powers, only a small fraction — considering how powerful he is, but he’s stoked that not one, but now both of his daughters have his powers!
He’s been through training them before with Charlie, so he’s pretty skilled on how to do it now, but he tends to stress to your daughter the usage of the powers and the rights and wrongs are far more important than the strength you have
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Vox
Vox was in no rush to have kids due to the current workload for VoxTech, but if you wanted them, all you had to do was ask
Vox, like Adam, couldn’t really wrap his head (or screen ig??) around the concept of a child until they were in his arms.
Vox wasn’t really sure how to handle a newborn, older kids were different, but this..? Maybe this wasn’t right for him…
It broke his heart every time he heard his son sob as a new born, and to be honest, he wasn’t sure what to do.
It’d be late at night and Vox would get out of your shared bed to go make sure the baby would stop crying before you’d wake.
He’d try everything, singing, rocking, bottle, changing the diaper, toys, everything. And it wouldn’t stop.
It’s not until you stir in your sleep and hear everything, you go to your son’s crib and simply hold him and he stops crying immediately, you set your son down and go back to sleep. Vox is literally amazed.
As your son ages into the ages of 6 and up is when it starts to get easier for Vox, by the time Vox can even slightly have a conversation with the kid it gets easier, the communication is a lot more clear
He doesn’t have a lot of time to play with his son due to VoxTech, so usually Vox will keep his son in his lap as he works in his office, he’ll even ask his son business questions! Even when he only gets gibberish back, he’ll take it. Hey, don’t judge him, client feedback is important.
As his son ages into his teen years, Vox starts turning a bit strict, he needs his son to be the coolest fucking kid in school, so Velvette tailors him a shit ton of clothes and Vox makes sure his son always has the newest gadget. Vox also is strict about keeping grades up, he wouldn’t ever take anything away for a bad grade, but your son may get a bit of lecture..
All of this is building up to something though, Vox really wants your son to take over VoxTech in his adult years, so he wants to make sure his son is prepared and experienced in the new world he’d enter, if he doesn’t want, Vox gets it, he may be a bit pushy though, but Vox has been in that place so he won’t push too hard.
At around the age of 15, your son developed Vox’s hypnosis powers.
Vox teaches your son how to use this to his advantage, like for example, VoxTech, but he also stressed there’s a time and place, and to not use it on someone you truly care about. Strategy is everything.
Is Vox the perfect parent? No. But no one is. But he genuinely has so much love for his son, and tbh he wants more kids…
495 notes · View notes
neymarsangel · 10 months
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Car Troubles - Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!reader
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Charles Leclerc x Verstappen!reader
Requested? Yes/No: Anon: Can you do an angst with Charles where the reader is a Verstappen and lots of brother max🥺🥺🥺
Summary: Ferrari can’t keep their car on track and Charles can’t keep his emotions on the track. 
Word Count: 3.2K
Warnings: Angst, fluff, swearing, Max on a rampage.
When Max found out you and Charles were dating he wasn’t precisely best pleased, how could he be? His little sister was in bed with the man who’d been his rival since his karting days. Although Max was kinder to Charles now than he was back then he would still give Charles a rough time on the track or the cold shoulder at family dinners. Just because Charles was dating his sister didn’t mean he’d like him. 
For the past few months, Ferarri hadn’t been performing as well as they should be and the moment the car stopped breaking down Charles would make a mistake and land himself with another DNF. The pair of you had been dating for over a year now and Max was very much aware of it. You moved in after four months leaving Max alone in his apartment, not that you were always away from your older brother and tonight was one of those nights. 
Charles had returned from the race weekend pissed off beyond measure. The car had finally started to work and he’d spun out and hit the wall. He was leading the French GP and after his mistake, your brother went on to claim P1 which only pissed Charles off even more. He and you returned to Monaco rather hastily, saying nothing the entire flight home. Once you were in your shared apartment you finally decided to speak. 
“Charles?”
“I don’t want to talk about it y/n.” His voice was stern as he threw his bags down without looking. His careless actions caused his bag to knock against your coffee table, hitting a vase Max had bought you. The water from the vase fell across the small table and leaked onto a scrapbook you’d left on the glass counted. 
“Charles!” You screamed before running over to the table. “Be careful you’ll ruin it!” The scrapbook was a present from Charles. After you two had an argument over telling Max about you both, he created the book as a way to show you that he never wanted to hide you ever again. Every time you went on a date he’d make sure he got something as a souvenir so he could scrapbook it. He got to relive the memories, allowing him to relax after races. 
“Who cares? It’s just a shitty book!” He snapped, running his hands through her hair. 
“What did you say?” Your voice broke at his words. 
“You heard, it’s just a shitty book with scraps of paper, it’s not important -”
“That book is about us, the book that you made! It is important.” 
“You don’t know what’s important y/n.” He raised his voice. “You know what is important? Me winning this championship! I need to win this for me, for Ferarri, for my family… for all those fans that give their time, effort and money to me, I need to win it for them!” He took a deep breath. “I need to win it for you…”
“Charles I want you to win the championship but it won’t make me think any differently of you…” 
“It should.” He snapped. “It’ll make me on the same level as your brother and I need to be fighting against Redbull… but you don’t get it.” 
“Charles I do -”
“No, you don’t! You’re not in that car, your brother is. You’re just always there in the background, just waiting there for Max… never me -”
“That’s a lie and you know it!” Your voice grew. “I always watch the race in the Ferarri garages, I only leave when Max wins to congratulate him. He’s still my brother Charles.” 
“You know sometimes when I lose I just want you there…” His voice was low as he spoke but that didn’t last long. “But you’ll never understand what that’s like.”
“Why? Because I’m not a driver?”
“Because you’ve never been in the spotlight, only the background.” 
“Is that what I am to you?” Your brows arched at his words. “Just someone in the background?”
“Well… the journalists flock to your brother, not you.” 
Being the sister of a Formula 1 driver had its perks but it also meant that every day you woke up knowing you would never be on the same level as your brother. Max was always praised by your mum and dad whereas you had to fight for even the smallest acknowledgement from your parents. It wasn’t that they didn’t care about your own achievements but more so that Max was always at the forefront when it came to outperforming you and Victoria. 
You didn’t utter a word to him as you grabbed your bags once again but rather than heading to your front room you headed towards the door. “Where are you going?” Charles asked. 
“Why do you care? I’m just in the background, aren’t I?” 
“Oh come on y/n you know I didn’t mean it -”
“Are you sure about that Charles because you’re acting like it.”
“Look, I know you will never understand what it’s like being under so much pressure but -”
“Charles, do you know what it’s like to be compared to your brother who’s won a World Championship? Do you know what it’s like to have to constantly think of ways to be noticed by your own family for something whilst your brother is out on the track competing in one of the greatest sports in the world?” Taking a deep breath as you watched his mixed expression. “Maybe Arthur will understand.”  
“Don’t bring Arthur into this -”
“Then don’t bring Max into this!” 
“How can I not? He’s everywhere I turn! He makes stupid decisions on the track which resulted in me suffering!” 
“Do not blame your incompetence on my brother!” 
“My incompetence?” He laughed at your words. “Your brother’s a fucking idiot on that track, nearly kills everyone who even dares go near him!” 
“At least Max knows how to stay on the track.” You knew it was a low blow but the way he was speaking to you, he deserved it. 
“That was low y/n…”
“And calling me unimportant isn’t?”
“Well right now you’re not important y/n, you know what is? Running Redbull to the ground and winning this championship, nothing else matters right now.” 
Charles was obsessed with winning, he always felt the need to prove himself to everyone around him despite his friends and family knowing he was capable of what he wished to achieve but he knew that didn’t matter. With fans and the press constantly hounding him and Ferrari to be better you knew it was them he wanted to appease, not himself. 
“Fine.” You didn’t utter another word as you opened the door and left him standing alone in your apartment. Tears pricked your eyes as you dragged your bags into the lift. You knew that if you stayed the two of you would only rip one another’s heads off even more than you already have. 
Monaco wasn’t exactly small so it wouldn’t take long to get to Max’s building meanwhile Charles was left alone with his thoughts. He’d fished the scrapbook from the water, treating it like an artefact at a museum as he slowly flicked through the pages, carefully inspecting which ones were damaged. Every time his eyes fell on the photos his heart sank. He knew he shouldn’t take out what was happening on the track onto you. You would support him at every turn and he knew what he said about you never being there for him was a lie. He spent the night drying the pages as best he could whilst he put them back together as they were before. He thought of sending you a text asking you if you were at Max’s safely, it didn’t take a genius to work out that you’d gone to see your brother about it, but he also knew if Max saw your phone he’d take it upon himself to reply. 
When Max saw you his confused gaze softened into a sympathetic one. His arms opened as you fell against him in his doorway. Sobbing into his chest he slowly guided you into his apartment before speaking. “Want me to break check the cunt when he’s out cycling? Or I can shove him into the wall during the race next week? Then again he does that himself anyway…” You pulled back from Max, a small smile on your face at his words as you two sat down. “What happened?”
“It was just a stupid argument, it’s nothing.” You wiped your tears away with your sleeves but Max wasn’t convinced. 
“It’s very rare you come running to me late at night because you’re upset.” He leant back in his chair. He had a point. Normally you and Charles would act cold with one another until either one of you apologised a mere few hours later but this time it felt different. He’d gotten personal and it had hurt. “You normally make up after a few hours and then I find out a week later so what was different this time?” 
“He said I wasn’t important to him and that all his focus was on the Championship… he told me I wouldn’t understand and I get that - I’m not one of you and I know it’s important but I can understand to a certain degree how important it is but I thought he’d value what we have over that title.” 
“I’ll kill him -”
“Max!” 
“What?”
“He’s still my boyfriend.”
“Not one I like.”
“You don’t need to like him… more tolerate him.”
“I’m finding that hard right now.” Rolling his eyes he shifted his gaze back to you. “Has he even texted you? To make sure you got here safely?” 
Sliding your phone out of your pocket you were met with a blank screen. “No -”
“Cunt.” Max spoke under his breath. “Have you eaten?”
“No -”
“Good, we’ll order in, watch a film, like we used to.” He smiled at the memories. When the two of you were younger every single Friday you would all watch a film and have a takeaway with your sister Victoria. It was the one night when the three of you were all together and could forget about your parent's divorce and the world around you.  
You and Max spent the night talking about what happened whilst you two watched a Disney film, trying to forget the night. Unlike anyone else you were close with, Max knew how Charles felt when his car didn’t comply and when he made a mistake which lead to his race being ended. He would always give you a different perspective on your situation and most importantly, he’d listen to you. That was something a lot of people never saw, Max would always validate your feelings and tell you his own perspective on things when you needed it. 
Eventually, you and Max called it a night and you headed into his spare room. Throwing your bags onto the bed you began to get ready for bed when your phone sounded from the cabinet. 
Char <;3: Did you get to Max’s okay? X
You: I did x
Char <;3: When are you coming back? X
You: Is that why you texted? X
Char <;3: No I wanted to know that you were safe x
You: I left the house hours ago x
Char <;3: I know but I wanted to give you space x 
You locked your phone, ignoring his last text. You knew you’d cause another argument with him about his text being a little too late but he’d already read your mind.
Char <3: Look I’m sorry I should’ve messaged you earlier but I didn’t want to make this any worse x
You: By making sure I wasn’t killed? Do you think you checking in on my well-being was going to make this worse? X
Char <;3: You’re right and I’m so sorry, I should’ve walked or driven you over myself. When are you coming home? X 
You: I don’t know x
Char <;3: Please be safe. Take your time and I’ll see you soon and I’m sorry x
You: For not texting me or the argument we had? X
Char <3: Both x
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to go home to him but his words continued to play in your head over and over again like a broken record. Climbing into bed you glimpsed at your lock screen which was a photo of you and Charles after he’d won the Australian GP. He had the trophy in one hand but he was looking at you, his eyes full of love as he looked at you, completely ignoring the trophy in his hand. 
You: I’ll message you later, goodnight Char. I love you x 
Charles's heart jumped at the reply he got. He knew it was stupid considering the two of you had been in a relationship for years but after a fight like that, all he wanted was reassurance. 
Char <;3: I love you too x 
He knew he had to make it up to you, he’d fucked up and with Max as your brother, he knew he’d have to grovel. 
You’d stayed with Max until the Hungarian GP, you knew you’d end up sharing a hotel with Charles. Max had offered to pay for another room for you but the truth was your heart ached to see your boyfriend again. 
“Are you sure you don’t want me to buy you a room?” Max asked as he carried your things to the room you were set to share with Charles. 
“I’m fine Max.” You smiled at him. “Besides they probably don’t have one free at this time-”
“Then you can take my room and I’ll share with Charles.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that would go down well.” 
“Well…” Max smirked at his own words. “He wouldn’t have to worry about him crashing into a wall because he wouldn’t even make it to the car.”
“You’re horrible.” A smile tainted on your lip at your own words. 
“Could be worse, remember what I did to your ex?” He smiled down at you. How could you forget? Your last boyfriend, Alexander, had cheated on you with a girl he claimed was ‘just a friend’. You walked in on the two of them in a compromising position only hours after he told you that he loved you. When Max found out there was nothing that could stop him. He stormed into his house and made sure he gave him two black eyes that wouldn’t shift for weeks. 
“It would be harder to get away with if you did it to Charles, besides, we had an argument. It’s not like he cheated on me.” 
“Well if that ever crosses his mind… it’ll be worse than two black eyes.” 
You reached your room but just as you went to open the door a tall brunette swung the door open before you could even get your hand to it. His eyes met yours as you both stared at one another in silence for a second. Max coughed, breaking the two of you out of your trance. 
“Max…” Charles glanced over to your brother who looked as if he was ready to kill him. 
“Charles,” Max replied before turning to you. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with him? You can take my room.” 
Charles looked as if he wanted to kill Max himself at his words. “I’m sure she’s fine with me,” Charles spoke up. 
“You know she can talk for herself, Leclerc.”
“I’m aware.” Speaking through gritted teeth Charles seemed to have finally found his voice. 
“I’ll be fine Max.” You looked between the two men. Charles quickly snatched your bags away from Max’s grasp, a smug smile on his lips as he watched Max take a step back in defeat. 
“Text me if you need anything y/n, I’ll see you in the garages.” Max turned on his heel, his eyes not leaving Charles’s as he headed down the hallway. 
Charles held the door open for you as you walked inside the room. He’d moved his things in but only to one side of the room like he did every single weekend. Even when you weren’t around it always became a habit for him. “How was your time with Max?” He spoke as he set your bags aside. 
“Needed.” You replied. “How was your alone time?”
“Lonely.” He stepped closer to you. “I missed you.” 
Looking up your eyes met his. “I missed you too.” 
“I’m so sorry y/n. What I said, I didn’t mean it at all. Look, I was upset over the race, I feel like I’ll never be a World Champion and every single day I believe that I feel like I’m letting everyone down… especially you.”
“Charles I won’t love you any less if you aren’t a World Champion.”
“I know but… in the past, it's gotten too much and I’ve had people leave me or just become distant and I couldn’t take it if you decided to leave.”
“I’m not going to leave you I just want you to talk to me. I know I’m not a driver but my brother is and for years Max told me what it’s like and I know I’m not in the car but I can listen and understand as best I can, I’m sorry for what I said.” 
Charles stepped closer, his hands resting on the sides of your face as he leaned down. “You are so important to me, more important than any stupid trophy.”
“I better be.” Your face broke into a smile as Charles leaned down and took your lips into his. He stood in between your legs as he deepened the kiss his hands going to your hair to pull you closer to him, acting like this was the last time he’d ever kiss you. Eventually, you both pulled away, and Charles straightened himself up. 
“I have something for you.” Opening the drawer beside the bed he pulled out the scrapbook he’d made you. “It’s not just a book to me.” He handed it to you. “I fixed it as best I could, I’m sorry-”
“I think we should leave this page blank.” Cutting him off you pointed to a blank page. “For when you win the Championship, that way if you ever feel like you aren’t good enough then you can look back to this page, it might be blank for now but it’s a silent reminder of how much I believe in you, we all do.” You pecked his lips. “You might not believe it sometimes but everyone wants the best for you, especially your fans.” 
“I don’t want to let them down.”
“And you won’t… Ferrari will.” 
He laughed at your words, falling down beside you on the bed. “If only everyone thought how you did.” 
“Are you spying on them?” A British accent made Max jump back from the door to yours and Charles’s room. Lando stood behind him with a confused expression. 
“I’m just making sure he doesn’t make her cry.” 
“I think he makes other things wet besides her eyes.” Lando laughed at himself. Turning to face him Max laughed alongside him before his expression changed in a heartbeat. 
“Lando?” 
“Yeah?”
“Make a joke like that about my sister again and I’ll cut your dick off.” 
---
Buy me a coffee <3
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javierpena-inatacvest · 6 months
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Amor
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Summary: After a bad day at work, coming home to his family makes Javi realize his day wasn't so bad after all
Word Count: 1.9K
Pairing: Dad!Javi x f!reader (no use of y/n)
Warnings: Tooth rotting, sickening, fluff 😩😭 Allusions to smut, breeding kink, dad!Javi needs his own warning bc oh my GOD (more specifically, girl dad!Javi...) (*Also general spoiler warning if you don't want to read NTL out of order!*)
A/N: Y'ALL. I told you the dad!Javi brain rot was UNREAL. After writing this, I don't think I'm ever gonna be able to stop writing for dad!Javi ever and I'm not even sorry about it 🤷🏼‍♀️ Don't mind me casually screaming from the rooftops about how much I am obsessed him okay BYE 🤪
Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the NTL universe!
Series Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist
Shitty. 
There were a lot of words Javi could have used to describe how his day at work had gone. 
At 9:30, after his weekly phone call with border patrol, who provided him with little to no helpful information, the word would have been annoying. 
At 11:15, after Agent Miller knowingly jammed the copier and left it for someone else to fix, leaving Javi with no way to make any copies, the word would have been frustrated. 
At 3:40, after his department meeting with the other Sheriff’s Offices from the county, none of whom came prepared, as usual, the word would have been angry. 
And now, at 6:15, after a spilled afternoon coffee, a giant stack of paperwork that had been thrown on his desk, and a pounding headache, the word to describe his day was nothing short of shitty. 
Throwing his briefcase into the passenger’s seat, cranking the AC up and the volume of his car radio to zero, Javi sat in his truck, silently brooding in his moodiness to sulk in the misery that had been his absolutely shitty day. 
The rest of his drive home was the same as his pouting in the parking lot of the Laredo County Sheriff’s Department- no music, no windows down, no grin on his face like his usual drives home after work. Javi couldn’t remember a day at work this shitty since the DEA, and that in itself was saying something. 
As Javi pulled onto your street, dust swooshed beneath the bouncing of his truck tires along the gravel road, the sun just beginning to fade from its vibrant yellows and oranges to its soft pinks, beaming behind the clouds scattered throughout the September sky. The view was just enough to snap him out of his overbearing funk- the brightly colored sunset painted behind the view of your house and tiny, shadowed figures dancing in the driveway meant that nothing else in the world mattered anymore. Not frustrating colleagues, piles of paperwork, even spilt cups of desperately deserved coffee. The only thing that mattered to him now, were his 4 favorite people in the world, waiting for him to come home. The only thing that mattered was his family. 
Lucy was the first to notice Javi’s truck rolling down the driveway, immediately prompting the 4 of you to pause your soccer game that had been happening in the front yard, which, after your two year old had decided she wanted to get involved, had really turned into more of a match of “Chase Harper through the grass as she tries to run away with the soccer ball”. 
“Daddy’s home!” Lucy and Elliot squealed, bolting towards Javi’s truck as it finally reached a halt at the end of the driveway, prompting you to scoop up Harper and follow behind, knowing she would be just as thrilled to see her dad, even if her little legs couldn’t keep up with her older sisters' quite yet. The girls bounced in excitement, frantically waving at Javi as they waited for him to exit the car.
From the moment the driver’s side door was open, and both Javi’s feet were on the ground, Lucy and Elliot were wrapped around Javi’s waist, squeezing him with a love and affection that instantly eased every last bit of stress, melting away any remnants of the previous parts of his day. 
“Hi Daddy!” The girls giggled in delight as they latched tighter around their dad’s hip, the feeling instantly making him crouch down to their level and drape his arms around them, pulling them in as closely as he could in return.
“Hola, Pollitas.” (Hi, little chickens). The sigh Javi let out was like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders, hugging his girls just a little tighter and longer than normal, almost as if he couldn’t bear to let them go. 
“Daddy, you’re squishing me!” Elliot squealed, wriggling her little body in Javi’s grasp. 
“Yeah, Dad, you’re gonna crush us!” Lucy teased, both the girls bursting into laughter as Javi gave them one last squeeze before hosting them up, letting their little legs flail as he shook them in his grasp before setting them back down, pressing a soft kiss on each of their heads. 
“Crush my Pollitas? Never. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Javi teased back, making the girls roll their eyes. 
“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!” Harper cooed, outstretching her arms towards Javi as the two of you made it to the driveway, Javi immediately scooping her up from you and hosting her in the air, peppering her with little kisses across her body, making her squeal just as loudly as her sisters. 
“Mi mas pequeño amor (My littlest love).” Javi grinned, resting Harper against his hip as his little fan club had finally parted ways enough for you to greet your husband, gently cradling his face in your hands, pressing a soft kiss on his lips, savoring the sweet taste of him that felt like home. 
“Hi.” You smiled, pulling back just enough to see the sweet grin spread across his face before leaning back in for a hug, letting the warmth and scent of his body engulf you whole, making the grin on your face just as wide as his. “Long day?” You asked, still pressed against his chest, noting his arrival time back home was later than normal. 
“Not anymore.” He beamed, staring down at you with that tender gaze that still made you melt, even after all your years together. 
“Daddy, can I show you the picture I made you in art today? Please, please, please?” Lucy pleaded, once again wrapped around Javi’s hip, gently tugging at his shirt for his attention. 
“I made one, too!” Elliot interjected, crossing her arms in defiance, a shocked look on her face that her sister dared to leave her out of the art contribution about to be made to their dad. 
“Your little artists have been hard at work today.” You grinned. “I’m pretty sure the Peña house is going to soon be a nationally recognized museum for pictures of puppies, Daddy, and gorillas.” 
“Gorillas? That’s a new one.” Javi laughed, looking at you with a confused tilt of your head, your only response to shrug your shoulders in just as much confusion and amusement. 
“Mrs. Collins read us a book about them in library today! So I showed Elliot and Harper how to draw them!” Lucy beamed, proudly crossing her arms over her chest with a satisfied nod. 
“I’m sure they’re amazing, mi amor (my love), gorillas and all.”  
“Alright goobers, now that Daddy’s home it’s time for dinner, why don’t you go clean up the rest of your art stuff and we can show Daddy your pictures before we eat.” You smiled, Javi gently setting Harper back on the ground, only to quickly be scooped back up again by Lucy, the 3 girls racing through the front yard and into the house, giggling and screeching in excitement the whole way there, leaving you and Javi watching your daughters dash across the driveway. 
Once the girls were out of sight, Javi’s hands slid down your sides, fingers pressing into your hips as he tugged you in closer, making your rest your hands on his broad chest as he kissed you, now making you giggle as he grabbed an unexpected handful of your ass, giving it a playful smack as you swatted at him, rolling your eyes. 
“You’re in a surprisingly good mood for having a shitty day at work.” You smirked, biting down on your lip as you raised a suspicious eyebrow at him. 
“How’d you know I had a bad day at work?” Javi asked, cocking his head in confusion, hand still gripped tightly around the small of your back. 
“Because I know you like the back of my hand, Javier Jesús Peña. I could just tell. Plus, you always give those girls an extra big hug after a long day, since I know how much you miss them, even though you literally saw them this morning.” You snickered, lovingly nudging Javi before pressing another kiss onto his lips. 
“What? Like it’s a crime to miss my family while I’m stuck in terrible fucking meetings and doing shitty ass paper work all day? To wanna spend all my time with my beautiful daughters and their even more beautiful momma? Fine, guilty as charged, I guess.” Javi winked, gently tracing his thumb on the soft skin of your stomach, barley peeking out between your shirt and shorts. 
“Well I guess the five of us will all just head off to Peña prison together since we’re all guilty of missing you just as much.” 
“God, you’re such a dork.” He sighed, pulling you in to plant a kiss on your forehead. “I love you so much, Osita.” 
“I love you too, Jav.” The two of you stood there for a moment longer, the comfort of each other’s embrace, forever your favorite feeling. “Okay, we should probably get back in there before the munchkins get up to no good, huh? In addition to trying to teach Elliot and Harper how to draw gorillas, Lucy was also trying to teach them how to body check someone when they played hockey in the driveway.” 
“They are their mother’s daughters, I wouldn’t expect anything less. Plus, I apparently have some pictures of gorillas to go see.” Javi chuckled, reaching back to open the passenger side door of his truck to pull out his bag as the two of you headed back towards the house. 
“Well, if you needed something to make you feel better, looking at Elliot’s attempt at drawing you, her, Lucy and Harper riding on a purple gorilla while I chase you riding a rainbow gorilla will probably do the trick.” The two of you laughed, walking hand in hand to the front door, pausing one last time on your porch before entering back into the giggles and grins filling your home. “And if that doesn’t work, I bet after we put the girls to bed, I can think of something else that might help you feel better, too.” You smirked, eyeing Javi up and down with a mischievous grin spread across your face. 
“Yeah? You gonna let me give me baby number 4, huh Momma?” Javi’s face lit up, biting down on his lip, his eyes wide and smirk even bigger than yours. 
“Bold of you to assume the rainbow gorilla isn’t enough. Guess we do have an extra room to fill, don’t we?” You giggled, giving Javi a playful nudge before heading through the door, joining the girls in the kitchen, eagerly waiting with drawings in hand to show their dad. As Javi trailed behind you, greeted by the image of his wife and daughters gleefully gathered around the kitchen counter, waving their colorful papers at him, he couldn’t help but feel his heart burst at the seams, flooded with sense of love and comfort that he was convinced nothing else on this earth would ever be able to top. 
Even on the shittiest of days, Javi knew that nothing could really ever be that bad, knowing he would get to spend the rest of his life coming home to the 4 people in the world that made it all worth it. Knowing he would spend his forever surrounded by the love of his family.
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Taglist:
@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @dappydelta @blackfemalenerd
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theloveinc · 10 months
Note
any hobie and/or miguel icks? 😟
whoever sent this: thank you + i ADORE you. i hope you don't mind i'm switching up the formatting/style a it in comparison to my older icks... shorter list, more detailed <3
(warning: some fem terms used at the end, such as “mama!”)
-
Miguel O'Hara
- This guy... has some long ass toenails. Type of toenails that poke you at night in bed, and tear holes in his socks.
It's maybe somewhat related to the claw thing he's got going on? Has a lot stronger and faster-growing nails than the average person... but the real problem here is that he's TERRIBLE about clipping them. Claims it doesn't bother him even remotely and that you're the one overreacting when you ask him to... but hardly anything gets through to him about it. You probably even offer to do it for him one day, thinking the offer of a foot massage would sway his thinking and that it'd actually work... but he fought you on that just as easy...!!!
...which is how you came to the conclusion that you have a man who'll even argue w/ you over toenails. Petty boy.
- Miguel is also tired 24/7. AND yeah, it's pretty hard to be un-sympathetic towards that, but he's tired in the... I'm-gonna-prioritize-this-one-last-email-over-saying-goodnight-to-you way. Which gets real irritating when you're asking him to help you out w/ anything, like cleaning up or answering a question or JUST HAVING A DAMN CONVERSATION W/ YOU and he's using "I'm tired" as an excuse when his response is shitty or distracted.
Like one of those stupid guys whose always squinting at their damn iPad when you ask what he wants for dinner... which is ironic given that he'll get snippy at you for not giving him your full, entire attention whenever he wants it. Type of man to start picking imaginary lint off your head when you're simply trying to finish up a text before engaging him so that you aren't distracted.
- Odd about Lyla. Not that he loves her or anything, but she'll like pop up to give him updates about whatever even if you're MID-MAKEOUT session and he won't change that setting. Pulling away from your lips all pouty and squinty only to glare at his watch for thirty seconds before trying to go right back into kissing you.
No. No sir.
(Lyla will also always say something to or-but-usually-and about you, which... Okay, she's an AI and doesn't Get It... but it's still weird because it feels like someone you don't know just walked into the room.)
- Picks his nose when he's too busy to find a tissue, and forgets to sanitize his hands after. Denies this when you tell him.. but you've witnessed this multiple times (he's weirdly kind of whiney for a dude and lazy for a workaholic LOL).
Hobie Brown
- Lovely boyfriend because he doesn't give a crap about your appearance or the idea of needing to "look nice" for a man... but also stupid, nuisance boyfriend because this means he doesn't give one hoot if you try to get all gussied up for him. Nags you about wasting time getting ready because he doesn't need you to do all that instead of just saying "THANK YOU, YOU LOOK NICE." Even probably complains about you feeding into gender stereotypes or w/e when you do something like shave your legs or pluck your eyebrows😭
You try to talk to him about this, ask if he even cares that you tried to look nice, and he skirts around admitting it because he has an argument for everything. "'oughta know I think you're pretty either way"-ass when you just spent an hour trying to look all good for him.
- Tries to share the most obscure music with you... which is like, sweet in concept, but weird when it actually happens since it's never like a generic love song but an eleven minute underground jam session.
Which isn't to say he has bad taste in music, usually it's fine if not fantastic... but you try to tell him you don't want to listen to some dude's first draft of himself banging on a drum set for a full album and he's like: "tsk."
HOBIE. TSK??? FUCKING TSK????????? WHAT ABOUT WHAT OTHER PEOPLE LIKE????????
(He'll also use his to get out of listening to your music. Claiming his "inconsistency" is why he liked your playlist yesterday but not today. Stop!!!)
- And you know I gotta say it, he's a punk, after all: absolutely refuses to clean his favorite leather jacket, and it smells RANK. He's genuinely sentimental about it, though... and if you even try to bring up cleaning it somehow (even if very gently), he's acting like you betrayed him. Goes through the five stages of grief over you asking him not to wear it on one of your dates, and teases you by TALKING to it:
"Mumma didn't mean that, jackie. She just doesn't understand our lifestyle, does she?" while giving you a (lighthearted) stink eye.
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astermath · 1 year
Text
"So? Whatever." Pt.2
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pairing: dave lizewski x popular!fem!reader
summary: after closing a deal with dave to let you borrow his comics while he pretends to tutor you, he finally comes over to your house. he’s confronted with the fact that despite your reputation of being damn near perfect, you have your own insecurities and issues. you’re confronted with how much you enjoy his company, despite having your reservations about him before.
word count: 2.4K
♡ LANDING PAGE ♡
notes: thank you for the likes and the reblogs, I really appreciate it! I really enjoy writing for this reader, there’s something so fun about being able to be so playfully mean. Please let me know if you’d like a part 3, and comments are greatly appreciated too!
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[unknown]: hi, it’s dave! hope I typed in the right number lol
You look at your phone as it buzzed, squinting to see if you recognized the contact as you dried your hair off from the shower. You sat down on your bed and swiped up, smiling at the name. At least he didn’t forget to text. You saved his number under a new contact and started typing a reply.
[y/n]: sorry, I know a lot of daves. are you the one from the party last saturday, or the one from the football game?
[dave]: lizewski? the one who lent you the venom comic? brown hair, glasses?
You grinned to yourself, laying down on your stomach on the bed.
[y/n]: I’m just messing with ya, nerd. I remember you, how could I possibly forget?
[dave]: right
[dave]: sorry
[dave]: could you send me the address? and what type of comics you want me to bring?
You sent him your location and a couple of screenshots of your favorite franchises.
[y/n]: think you can work with that?
[dave]: yeah, totally! I’ll be there at 2 on saturday, is that ok?
[y/n]: totes, see ya then x
Dave stared down at his phone, eyes fixated on the little “x” you added to your last text. Everything from that day had already felt surreal, and now he was actually texting you. Or, well, he assumed so. This could all very well still be part of some really shitty prank, but you did seem genuine in your request. And what kind of guy would he be to just assume you were out to get him, just like all the others?
A smart one, probably.
But it was too late for second thoughts now, as he stood in front of the driveway to your house. It was huge, nothing like the houses in his neighborhood. He guessed that’s what all that lawyer money was good for. He walked up to the front door, his hand shaking a little as he reached out to ring the bell. He heard footsteps, taking a deep breath in and mentally prepared himself to be met by you as the door opened.
Instead, he was met by the eyes of an older man, slightly taller than him, who seemed less than pleased to see him at his front door. He crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow as he looked him up and down. “Can I help you, son?”
Dave gulped, hands getting clammy inside his coat’s pockets. He was not ready to be confronted by your dad, especially because he’s the one you were primarily hiding things from. “I-I’m here to tutor—”
“My daughter?” He cut him off before he could say your name. “You the kid that’s tutoring her?”
“Y-Yes sir, that’s me.” He pulled out his hand, silently cursing himself for not wiping it on his pants before because of how sweaty it was.
Your father looked down at his hand, but before he could even shake it, your voice was heard from behind him. “Daddy, that’s for me!” You walked down the stairs, making eye contact with Dave as he tried not to melt right then and there because of what you were wearing. He usually saw you wear your cute, well put together outfits at school, but seeing you in your cute comfy shorts, with your hair put up… He only realized he was staring when your dad addressed him again.
“Alright, get inside. And shoes off.”
He obliged, quickly taking his shoes off as your dad walked back into the living room.
Not long after, he was met with the sight of your room. Shelves adorned with trophies, a vanity, a queen sized bed with a TV in front of it, a plush sofa, and a huge closet… He was pretty sure he’s seen whole apartments less nice than your room. But nevermind that, he was in a girl’s room, in your room. That was intimate no matter the scenario.
You sat down on your desk chair, legs crossed as you turned it on its wheels to face the boy scanning your room. He looked like he had landed in another dimension, eyes wide as he examined his surroundings.
“What’s so interesting?” You asked, not sure if he was looking for something or if he was just genuinely this impressed by your room.
“You have… A lot of trophies…” He fidgeted with the sleeve of his shirt.
You looked over to the shelf, smiling proudly. “All from cheering.” You pointed to the tiara on the shelf above it. “Besides that one.”
He remembers when you won prom queen in your junior year, though he’s not sure if he’d count that as a trophy. He’d never tell you that, though.
“So, you gonna give me my comics or are you just here to inspect my private property?”
Your comment snapped him out of his daydreaming and he quickly took off his backpack to take out a plastic bag filled with comics. “I-I didn’t know which ones you wanted specifically, so… I just took all the ones from the franchises you showed me.” He took the pile out of the bag and you got up to take them from him.
“Careful, it’s—“
Your arms almost gave out to the sheer heft of the pile before he caught them. “Jesus christ Dave!”
“S-Sorry, sorry, I didn’t realise they weighed that much combined!” He looks panicked, hoping you didn’t hurt yourself when the weight pulled you down.
“You carried these all the way here?” You looked at him in shock. There was no way he was that strong, not without you knowing about it. “What are you, some kind of secret body builder?” You watched him put the pile down on your desk, seeing the muscles in his forearm. Maybe you were wrong, you just hadn’t been paying as much attention to Dave as you apparently should have been.
He avoided the question, simply sitting down on the carpeted floor across you with his back against the side of your bed. Frankly, he knew he’d be better off saying nothing when it came to his physique, afraid it might reveal too much relating to his vigilante activities.
You looked through the pile, finding the sequel to the previous comic you had borrowed from him and pulling it out. Dave took his own comic book out of his backpack, and when he looked back at you, something had clearly changed.
Your face was now adorned with a pair of round, thinly rimmed glasses.
He blinked a few times to make sure his own eyes weren’t deceiving him, but no, he was seeing things right.
You look up from your page and raise an eyebrow. “Didn’t your mommy ever tell you it’s rude to stare?”
“You wear glasses.” He said, eyes fixated on your face. His usual aversion to eye contact seemed to have vanished all of a sudden.
“What?” You realized you hadn’t thought about it when you put them on. You didn’t usually have company over while you were reading stuff. “Oh.” Your face suddenly felt a lot warmer, embarrassment washing over you. “Yeah, I uh… I need them to read, at least. I get through the rest of my day without em just fine, they just look so… Stupid.” You paused, looking back at his face and realizing how mean that must have sounded to him. “Not that you look stupid! You look, uh… You look smart! Real smart, it’s just… They don’t suit me and I…His expression hasn’t changed one bit since you had put on your spectacles. You looked so different, in a good way. A really good way.
“Pretty.” He muttered.
“What?” You broke out of your embarrassed rambling.
“I think you look pretty. With the glasses. They suit you.” He smiled demurely, hoping that didn’t gain him some creep points.
You stared back at him. You’d been called hot before, sexy, gorgeous… But hearing him call you pretty, it was something else. There were no intentions behind it, he just needed to say it, like it felt right. You blink, trying to cope with the fact that the nerd you thought you had an upper hand on had turned your brain to mush with a single compliment.
“Yeah, uhm… Whatever…” You went back to reading. “…thanks.”
He smiled to himself as he picked up his own comic book again. You were surprisingly fun to talk to, it was almost as if he didn’t feel like he was getting judged for everything he was saying anymore.
And he could definitely get used to that.
A few hours pass as you both peruse through the pile. The silence is comfortable, only being broken if someone flipped a page or grabbed a new comic. He looked up and saw you holding the Spider-man collector’s edition he took a page out of, seemingly very immersed in the story.
“Do you like Spider-man?” He spoke up, hoping he didn’t annoy you by taking you out of the story.
“Oh, uh…” You adjusted the glasses on your face as they kept slipping down your nose a bit. “Yeah. He’s like… pretty cool I guess.” You had so much to say about him, so much you wanted to gush about, but you couldn’t help but still feel a little ashamed about your interest.
Dave looked at you expectantly. He knew that look, the same look he had whenever someone would call him any type of name at school for being a top shelf dork.
And in that moment, you realised you both had something in common. Except he lived his life unashamedly being a dork, and you were concealing it.
“Alright, so,” You got up from your chair and sat down on the floor next to him, your shoulders touching as you held the comic to your chest. The excitement nearly poured out of you as you couldn’t contain your words, going over everything you liked about him. His background, his personality, his originally handmade suit, his unique powers…
Dave watched you speak with a dreamy smile on his face, your face glowing with happiness. He never thought you’d looked more beautiful, just unapologetically being yourself in front of him. He didn’t once try to interrupt you, he wouldn’t dare to, you just looked so cute gushing about this comic book hero.
“And the fact that… He’s just some kid, right?” You looked into his eyes as he nodded along with you. “Like, he never got any special training, or fancy gear, or anything like that. He could have lived every day of his life pretending he never got bitten by that spider, and live happily ever after, but no! He took matters into his own hands, because he wanted to make a change, because he cared about the people around him.” You smiled, not realizing you had grabbed Dave’s arm and were squeezing it a little to emphasize your words.
He blushed, feeling like that description fit his own endeavors pretty well. He looked into your eyes and for a second, felt the urge to lean in. It took about as much strength as it did to carry those comics to not do so.
You let go of his arms and held your legs close your chest. “But that upside down kiss with MJ… That’s gotta be bullshit. There’s no way you can kiss someone like that.”
“I don‘t know,” Dave responded. “I feel like it would be kinda fun. It doesn’t look that hard.”
“Oh yeah? How would you know?” You turned your head to look at him and gave him a cocky grin.
His face flushed pink and he regretted saying what he said. He just gave you the perfect bait to tease the ever living hell out of him. “W-Well, I… I can imagine that… From my experience… It’s…” He stammered.
You let out a soft giggle, amused at his embarrassment. “You’ve never kissed a girl, have you?”
Dave gulped, words stuck in his throat. But you had opened up so much to him, it wouldn’t be fair to not do the same. “I, uhm… No. I haven’t.” He let out a bit of a defeated chuckle.
An idea sprung alive in your head, a dangerous but intriguing glint in your eyes as you bit your lower lip slightly.
“Would you want to?”
Dave had heard you say a lot of shocking things, but that might just take the cake. His cheeks burned hot as the blood rushed to his face, his hands staying steady on his own thighs to not show they were trembling a little. He didn’t know what to say, this was all happening so quickly.
Before he could respond, you were leaning in, eyes on his soft lips, only inches apart—
“Sweetie! Come down for dinner!”
Your eyes snapped open and you pulled back, looking at Dave before glancing over at the door. Thank god they didn’t come up to knock, that would have been the death of you. You take a deep breath and get up, gesturing with your hand for him to do the same. “You should uh… Probably head out.”
He sat there a bit longer than he should have, a million thoughts going through his head before the sound of your voice finally got through to him. “Right, sorry… Don’t wanna overstay my welcome.” He gathered his comics and went downstairs with you to put on his shoes and coat again.
You opened the door for him and he looked back at you to say goodbye. “Thanks for having me over, I had a good time. I hope you did too.” He smiled shyly, hands in his pockets.
You smiled back, reaching up to ruffle his brown curls. “Don’t mention it. And don’t die on the way back, shit’s dangerous out there these days.”
He nodded, giving you a quick wave before heading out, the feeling in his chest warming up his entire body. He felt like he could take on anything, a feeling that would absolutely come in handy later when he’d be face to face with New York’s criminals.
You went back upstairs and sat down at your desk, noticing he’d left something. It was the special collector’s edition you’d been gushing about earlier. You ran your fingers across the damaged front page, smiling to yourself.
Dave was looking in the mirror, adjusting his costume a little and checking if he had everything he needed with him. A buzz of his phone got his attention, and a giddy boyish grin spread across his face.
[y/n]: so, same time next week? xx
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chelseeebe · 6 months
Text
promise.
eddie knows about covering bruises and pretending to be fine all too well. but can he save the one woman he thinks he’s ever loved?
a/n: ok i’ve been a bit shit the last few weeks and this is genuinely the only thing i could conjure up but forewarning, it is sad and it does mention some pretty heavy topics that i know aren’t for everyone so i completely understand if u don’t want to read! my adhd riddled brain has already started a part two which does have a happy ending
title based on promise - ben howard i just thought it was a really lovely song and fits well with part two
read part two here.
18+. mdni! mentions of domestic violence, not explicitly described but the injuries are there and it is referred to multiple times throughout (eddie is not the perpetrator). smut. v much hurt/no comfort but not for long.
⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙
eddie is positively wrecked.
who would have ever guessed working in a shoddy, run-down bar would be so fucking tiring?
graham had said that if he picked up a few shifts at the hideout a week, then corroded coffin could play once a month. a guaranteed slot and he got paid? this was like heaven to him.
he just hadn’t expected the little bar to be so exhausting. he supposes that his lack of work experience and the fact he was used to doing sweet fuck all most of the time was to blame. that’s not his fault. not really. after finally graduating high school a year or so ago, he just hadn’t found any work in the tiny town.
on one particularly boring mid-week shift, eddie’s sat behind the bar doodling on the back of an old receipt, tapping his foot along to the kiss tune playing on the stereo. wouldn’t be his first choice but he’s not complaining.
‘you coming for a smoke?’ you exclaim suddenly, causing his head to jolt up, running the biro over his shitty drawing, ruining it completely.
‘uh.. then who would be on the bar?’ he utters, quickly hiding the doodle before you could judge it. not that he thinks you would, but just in case.
‘eddie, it’s dead,’ you say flatly, looking around at the empty tables.
truth be told, he hadn’t seen another soul bar from you and graham since he’d arrived which was odd for a thursday. assuming that the usual bums that lined the dusty old stools were otherwise engaged today. that or they just hadn’t been paid yet.
‘oh.. yeah, okay,’ he nods, hopping down from the stool and grabbing his jacket. you’re already gone, bounding off down the hall to the fire exit you all used for smoke breaks.
eddie’s still fairly new and very rarely got invited on the group breaks. which was fine, he just wished that you’d all take it in turns so that he could smoke too. he gets it though, like he talks enough but yet not enough to really make friends with any of you.
you’re leaning back against the brick wall, cigarette hanging from your lips, ‘you got a lighter?’
it’s not like he’d been staring or thought about it that much, but he’d noticed how breathtakingly beautiful you were on his second shift. okay, maybe that’s a lie. he’d thought about it a lot. but anyway, he’d been utterly in awe at the way you handled the drunks, brushed off their creepy comments and stood your ground no matter how angry or persistent they were being. he admired that and just wished that he had even a smidgen of the confidence you had.
he fumbles in his pocket for the lighter, clumsily handing it over before getting his own pack out. it feels wrong to look you in the eye, god that sounded pathetic. you were older, far cooler than he was and positively stunning. if he remembers correctly, you must’ve been a couple grades above him at school but had left long before he graduated.
‘thanks,’ passing the lighter back to him, fingers ever so slightly brushing against his. it’s like electricity sparks through his veins.
he really needs to get a grip.
‘you enjoyin’ it here?’ you ask, eyes intimidating as they bore into his.
‘it’s okay.. tiring though,’ he shrugs, trying his hardest to maintain eye contact despite his inability to look pretty girls in the eye.
‘yeah.. you’ll get used to it,’ you chuckle, the smoke flowing out of your lips perfectly. he’s so pathetically down bad for you and you have literally no idea.
‘how long have you worked here?’ longing to keep the conversation flowing.
‘shit.. too long,’ chuckling as you take another drag. eddie could listen to that sound all day. ‘i think i was eighteen when i started so..’ pretending to count on your fingers, ‘six years?’
eddie blows the air out of cheeks, he’s probably be in a similar position if he’d have just graduated when he was supposed to so he can’t exactly pass judgement.
‘i think we went to school together, i mean, you were a couple grades above me but i remember you,’ hoping that that didn’t sound as creepy out loud like it did in his head.
‘oh shit, really?’ your eyes narrow, trying to place him though it’s obviously not going to happen, ‘i don’t remember you.. i’m so sorry,’ playfully hitting his arm.
the connection is enough to keep his delusions going for at least another month.
‘it’s fine, didn’t think you would,’ not many people did to be honest. he tosses his cigarette into the overflowing makeshift ashtray, waiting for you to lead the way back inside.
‘hey, it was a long time ago, i’m old now!’ you joke, walking back through the dim hall back to the bar. he tries his hardest not to let his gaze slip to you ass but he swears it’s only for a second.
the bar’s still dead, the stereo now blaring out some madonna tune he hated.
‘ugh.. turn this one off,’ he mutters, mostly to himself as he repositions himself back on his perch.
‘what?’
‘i hate this song.’
your jaw drops in faux-offence, ‘i made this mixtape you asshole,’ going to shove him off of the stool, ‘i can’t believe you can’t drop the cool guy act for one second to appreciate some madonna,’ laughing as you start collecting glasses.
his frown turns into an immediate grin, begging for your forgiveness as he starts to bop his head along to the beat. it’s not like anyone would see him and hell, even if they did, he didn’t care. not if it made you smile.
-
‘holy fuck, you been fightin’ with the door again?’ james remarks, pulling eddie’s eyes from his paper to spot you rushing into the bar.
your head is ducked, flashing the older man your middle finger, disappearing into the back before eddie can properly get a glimpse of your face.
but he knows.
there’d been a handful of times that you’d come in wearing a massive sweater instead of your usual low-cut tops and when you reached for something high up, the sleeve would reveal just enough for him to see the dark blue marks on your wrist.
he’d never been sure, not until now. but his stomach drops the second his brain puts two and two together.
ditching the paper and that asshole james behind the bar to slink off into the back, approaching the tiny staff room with the upmost caution. it’d never be wise to start throwing accusations around but he’s not stupid. eddie had watching his mom go through the exact same shit for years. knew all the tricks in the book to cover up bruises, cried his heart out every time his mom went back to his asshole dad.
only god knows how many times he’d planned out his fathers death. anger brimming in his tiny body the second he heard raised voices.
he knocks gently on the door, watching as you hurriedly wipe the makeup onto your eye. it’s not doing much, in fact, it’s not doing anything at all. the purple shining through undeniably.
‘you okay?’ practically whispering as he enters the room, knocking the door shut behind him. james’ comment had meant that this obviously wasn’t the first time you’d come into work with such horrid markings.
you sigh, giving up on attempting to cover it, slamming the metallic compact back into your locker. ‘i’m okay.. i’m fine,’ refusing to turn and face him.
you’re obviously not okay and it hurts eddie to know that there’s absolutely nothing he can do to help. instead, he takes a seat on the communal bench, if nothing else, he’d lend his ear for whatever story you wanted to tell him.
‘what happened?’ he dares to ask, not expecting to know the truth but it felt better than silence.
you sniff, closing your locker and finally facing him head on. there’s pain and guilt wracked all over your face, ‘i’m just.. clumsy,’ shoulders slumping, ‘i tripped..’
‘clumsy?’
you were anything but. eddie had watched you balance trays full of glasses without spilling a single drop. maybe other people bought your story but he didn’t. he couldn’t.
there’s a short silence and eddie shuffles, patting the empty space beside him, ‘you don’t have to lie to me.’ he swallows his anger, lets it rest in his stomach for a later date. there’s no doubt that if he got the opportunity, he’d kill the asshole that did this to you.
you swallow, reluctantly perching on the bench, ‘why are you even asking when you already know?’ not quite meeting his eyes, staring off somewhere into the distance.
‘i don’t know.. didn’t wanna pressure you..’ he’s familiar with the whole routine. the denial from his mother had broken his heart at such a young age even though he wasn’t stupid.
you blink, meeting his eyes for the first time, ‘he didn’t mean to.. was my fault,’ wiping the back of your hand against your sodden cheeks.
even hearing the words makes him inexplicably frustrated. not with you of course, but with the fact that you can’t see how much you don’t deserve that.
‘i don’t think you could do anything to deserve that,’ motioning towards your blackened eye. he’s not going to push it but he needs you to know that he’s here and would quite happily wrap his hands around that bastards neck.
‘you know.. my dad used to hit my mom,’ swallowing the large lump that had gathered in his throat, but finds enough strength to continue, ‘she was the nicest lady in the world.. she didn’t deserve that and neither do you,’ licking his suddenly parched lips. it wasn’t an easy topic then and it certainly isn’t now.
he’s not particularly ever open about what happened to his mom but if it convinced you even a tiny bit to leave him, it’d be worth it.
there’s a beat, followed by a muffled sniff but you’re nodding, staring down at the grimy tiles rather than his face. eddie reckons that he’d be overstepping his mark if he did what he wanted and leant over to hug you. so he doesn’t. putting a sympathetic hand on your shoulder instead.
‘you’re an angel, you know that?’ the hints of a smile creeping onto your lips.
‘yeah i know,’ he scoffs, bashing his shoulder into yours, only gently.
‘shut up,’ knocking him straight back.
you get up from the bench, puffing your cheeks out as you take one last look into the mirror.
it’s a gut-wrenching, awful sight and god forbid eddie has to ever see you like that again.
-
perhaps rather naively, eddie assumes everything is fine for the next few weeks.
understandably, you’re a bit subdued for a few days but you do revert back to your usual bubbly self come friday evening. no more bruises, no more groaning when you change the keg and absolutely zero mention of your wretched boyfriend.
so when he pulls into his gravel driveway one gloomy saturday night, he’s aghast to see you perched on his trailer steps. blinking through his headlights, soaked through from the rain with a busted lip and a torn shirt to match.
he near enough launches himself from his van, rushing over to your hunched over frame. damn near falling over his feet to get to you.
‘what the hell happened?’
you stand, clinging onto your poorly packed rucksack, ‘i.. i didn’t know where else to go,’ utterly defeated, any traces of life drained from your face.
he doesn’t say another word, bundling you into the trailer, slamming the lights on to get a proper look of you. his hands firmly on your drenched shoulders as he examines your injuries. your lip is cracked, the blood had wept from the cut and dried on your chin.
it’s awful. knocks him sick just to see you like this. your cheeks are stained with a mixture of rain and he presumes tears, hair hanging limp around your beautiful face.
‘what happened?’ he says softly, studying your face. he notices the small gash on your forehead, using everything within himself not to storm out of that door in a murderous rage.
your mouth opens but no words come out. it’s not as if he can’t put two and two together, he just doesn’t understand how it got to this point after last week.
‘it’s okay.. c’mon let’s get you out of these clothes,’ he blinks, collecting himself before taking your sopping wet bag. the clothes had all suffered in the downpour, damp and unwearable.
so he leads you into his cramped room, hastily rummaging through his drawers for something you can wear.
it’s a little self-indulgent and completely the wrong time but his heart flutters when you reappear out of the bathroom sporting his tee and a pair of old gym shorts. now showered and without the blood stains on your face, it’s a welcome sight.
‘better?’ he offers, though he knows a shower could never really help.
you nod, pulling the sleeves down over your hands. it’s so adorable and eddie seriously has to fight his compulsion to just pull you into his arms. he knows there’s no way he can protect you from everything but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to try.
‘you want a drink? beer?’
your eyes light up, a minuscule smirk appearing on your battered lips. he’s sure wayne would understand why he came home to a non-existent six pack. the berating would be worth it to see you smile again.
he collapses onto the couch next to you, beer in hand as he watches you slowly relax. delighted that he could offer a safe space for you, even if it did come with some very complicated feelings.
that night, admittedly very creepily, he watches as you sleep. terrified to fall asleep in his makeshift bed on the floor in case you needed him.
-
at some point in the last two weeks, eddie had gone from sleeping on the floor to sleeping in his bed next to you. you’d told him it was far too cold for him on the floor and he should just get in. which he did, with great pleasure. there was nothing to it of course, but a few times he’d woken up to your leg entangled with his or your face pressed against his back.
everything had just got a whole lot more comfortable. rides to work, cooking for one another and some shared looks that he’d been unable to put his finger on. not wanting to believe they had any deeper meaning but at the same time, he knew that that wasn’t how friends looked at each other.
it’s a rare night you both have off, sat in the trailer watching halloween, neither of you really interested in what’s going on on the screen. there’s an inexplicable tension in the air tonight, you’re quieter than usual which eddie doesn’t like.
‘you okay?’ he dares to ask. he’d felt a little overbearing those first few days, constantly checking on you to make sure you were okay.
‘hmm? oh, i’m okay,’ setting your bottle of beer on the table, ending up much closer to him when you sit back.
‘you sure? you’re quiet,’ keen not to let on that he was absolutely buzzing about your close proximity.
‘just thinking.’
‘about?’
you let out a soft breath, twisting around to look at him fully. the only times he’d been this close to you were in bed where he laid and listened to your soft snores and when you’d been covered in injuries. neither one were exceptionally great circumstances.
‘you,’ you blink up at him, smiling just enough to make his heart skip a beat.
‘me?’ he can’t decipher whether that’s a good thing or not.
‘mhm.’
‘what about me?’
you don’t respond for what feels like an eternity but your gaze lowers, glancing at his lips and back to his eyes. if he weren’t staring directly into your bright eyes, he’d have missed it.
‘i really want to kiss you,’ you say, so brazenly that eddie’s not quite sure if he’s heard you correctly, almost sputtering on his breath as the words process.
‘you.. you wanna kiss me?’ trying hard not to sound so astounded. pretty girls didn’t want to kiss eddie, not like this.
you nod, ‘can i?’
there are stars in his eyes, blood pumping around his limbs at an alarming rate. his head is fuzzy and if he weren’t sitting, he’d probably have fainted.
‘please,’ he chokes, desperately forcing the word out before it becomes impossible.
your palms are soft as they caress his cheek, wishing that he’d shaved before this had unfolded. his heartbeat stutters, bubbling with anticipation as you lean in, gentle lips locking onto his as his eyes flutter shut.
this is it. he’d dreamt of kissing you for weeks, practiced on his hand an embarrassing amount of times and yet still nothing could’ve prepared him for how earth shattering this felt. his heart is practically jumping out of his chest and he’s sure you can feel it thumping against yours.
it’s as if fate had bought the two of you together, moving against each other in perfect harmony. if he died tomorrow, he’d die a happy man.
your hand creeps down onto his chest, holding yourself upright as you shift onto your knees. do you want to have sex with him? is this actually happening? his fingertips vibrate as they connect with your waist, like you weren’t even real and just a figment of his overactive imagination.
the second your lips part from his, he wants to cry, pull you back in and never let go. the absence of contact makes him whine, opening his eyes to see yours gazing back, they look different. different to how you’ve ever looked at him before, full of something unspeakable.
‘do you want to?’ you ask quietly into the minimal space between you.
eddie wants to so bad, more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life. nodding hurriedly to let you know just how eager he is. there’s not a chance in hell he’d let this opportunity slip through his fingers.
your lips twitch into a smile at his permission, fingers curling around the hem of his shirt.
but before you get any further, the trailer door clicks open and wayne is stood in the doorway, pizza box in hand accompanying his unimpressed scowl. ‘okay well, i think that’s enough of that,’ he grumbles, shuffling into the trailer as you climb off eddie’s lap, back into your own spot.
‘sorry wayne.. i didn’t know you were back so early,’ his cheeks burning, bashful as ever. it wasn’t enough for wayne to walk in on that but he was always now straining against his jeans, trying desperately to hide the tent while you reshuffle, pulling your shorts back down to a more appropriate length.
‘yeah yeah whatever,’ his uncle shakes his head, trundling over to the couch and tossing the box onto the cluttered coffee table, ‘move over boy, i wanna watch my programme,’ collapsing into the empty seat beside his nephew with a deep, guttural sigh.
the two of you share a sly smirk, tuning in to whatever shit wayne had put on without saying another word. stifling your laughter with a piece of pizza as eddie tries and fails to discretely pull a pillow onto his lap.
it’s hours later when you both crawl into bed and eddie has checked five times that wayne’s actually asleep before he gets to kiss you again.
bundled up under the covers when you pull him on top of you, your face gloriously basked in the bright moonlight shining in. it’s breathtaking.
‘you want to?’ you ask again, as if his answer had changed in those few hours.
he nods, his curls brushing fall down and brush against your cheek, ‘have you.. before?’ you ask cautiously. he’s not offended, even if he should be.
he has had sex before. only twice. when ellen had first joined hellfire, they had sorta had a year long fling which had ended after they had sex and ellen realised that maybe she didn’t actually like men. that was a super boost to his confidence. and then at senior prom when tina took great pity on him and somehow they ended up having sex in the back of his van.
he nods anyway, granted he’s not the most experienced but he’ll sure as hell try.
‘good,’ you smile, warm thighs wrapping around his torso as you reconnect your lips. it’s soft, gentle even. world’s apart from his previous encounters. this felt real, like you weren’t just kissing because you had to but because you wanted to.
it’s too cold in the trailer to care about removing your clothes, though he’s sure that’ll change in a minute. focussing on getting his tongue inside of your mouth, rutting against your pajama shorts. the friction causing his already semi-hard dick to rise, unable to contain the moan from escaping.
a smirk flashes across his face as his hand drags your shorts down your legs, savouring every moment of being able to touch your bare, supple skin. his hand makes its way back up your legs, repositioning the one he could grasp back around his lower back.
he has trouble getting his boxers down, too excited to focus on being smooth about it. appreciating the feel of your hand tugging the fabric down. you’re barely kissing at this point, your lips connecting with the corner of his mouth, all messy as the anticipation takes over.
‘you sure?’ he asks, gazing down at you with hooded eyes. he could just about remember what to do. sending a quick prayer upstairs to not let him be utterly useless.
‘i’m sure,’ you breathe, the feel of your fingers tangled into the hair that covered the back of his neck.
‘okay..’ he nods, mostly to himself as he wraps a head around his cock, positioning himself at your entrance. taking a brief moment to just capture this moment in preparation of it never happening again.
the pleasure overcomes his body as he slides in, already almost losing himself as he fills you up. a soft moan escapes your lips, gripping onto his neck. he is acutely aware that his uncle is asleep on the other side of the old trailer so he muffles his face into your neck, lips connecting with your jaw bone, kissing any and every bit of skin exposed to him.
sex had never felt like this before. at best, it had felt slightly better than when he jerked off, but this was something else. eddie knows it’s cliche and is definitely only because you feel so fucking good around him, but it’s as if you were made for each other.
hands pressed into the pillow so hard that he wouldn’t be surprised if there were a permanent dent either side of your head. using everything within himself not to start hollering, eyes fluttering shut against your neck. he moves in and out at an agonisingly slow pace. the small room filling with the sounds of your soaking wet cunt. its undeniable to anyone with ears and he just hopes to god that wayne is still asleep.
his own low groans vibrating against your cheek, mouth hanging open as his thrusts grow faster. you’re panting softly directly into his ear, spurring him on. despite the feel of your perfect cunt around him, the best feeling is knowing that he’s making you feel good.
‘h-holy shit,’ he mumbles nonsensically into the crook of your neck, not allowing himself to come for air because he know that the second he looks at your face, he’ll cum.
your one hand is splayed out on his upper back, the other holding onto his sweaty neck beneath his mop of hair. whining his name into his ear, driving him into a frenzy with the sound of your breathy voice, desire rippling through your moans. he should tell you to be quiet but that’d be cruel and he’d rather take the shame of wayne knowing than not hearing you.
your legs shift higher the position allowing him to reach the golden spot, nudging the soft, spongy spot over and over. eddie figures you’re far more experienced than he is. with no offence meant to you but you obviously know what works. this is new territory for him, a closeness that he’d never known possible.
you’re engulfing him completely, every single one of his senses encompassed by you. you’re all he can see even with his eyes screwed shut, all he can hear, taste and smell. god knows you’re all he can feel, calves squeezing around his back and your perfect pussy tightening around him.
he groans, feeling his stomach begin to twist in that all too familiar feeling. orgasms had never felt so good, it’s like everything was dialled up to level ten. ‘i’m gonna.. shit- i’m gonna come,’ he babbles far too loudly.
every noise tumbling out of your mouth was pulling him closer, no record could ever come close to the sweet mewls that were slipping between your lips. his arms begin to tremble under his own weight. feeling your legs quivering around his waist as your orgasm begins to overtake your body, sinful noises echoing around the otherwise quiet trailer.
‘ohh fuck,’ he growls, feeling your walls clenching around him, it was like he’d been pushed over the edge. the only way he can begin to describe it was otherworldly, flashes of white light illuminate his eyelids.
images of your face accompany your honeyed whimpers and he has to pull out before he explodes. spurts of his release cover his hand and admittedly the back of your thigh. if he had any semblance of control, he’d have been embarrassed but he’s not exactly sure that he’s still on planet earth.
he dares to open his eyes, watching as your chest heaves below him clinging onto his forearm with desperate fingertips. you’re looking up at him as if he’s the only person you’d ever seen. mouth slack as you regain your breath.
‘jesus christ,’ he whispers, hand resting on your angled knee as he floats back down to your planet.
eddie clambers off of the bed with a grunt, wiping a hand over his sweaty face. reaching down to grab his previously discarded towel. it wasn’t the epitome of romance but he darent to leave his room, petrified that wayne had just heard that entire encounter.
he’s a gentleman, of course, running the towel over your thigh to clean his mess. offering you a tiny shrug as if to say sorry. rather suddenly he feels rather conscious of himself, refusing to look at you as his cheeks flame.
it’s ridiculous. he’d just been buried between your legs and yet now couldn’t even look you in the fucking eyes.
before he gets up again, your hand reaches out, curling around his t-shirt. ‘stop,’ using his shirt as leverage for you to sit up.
in one quick movement, you’re placing a tiny onto his lips. a reassurance he really shouldn’t have needed but he appreciates nonetheless.
‘don’t do that,’ you hush, millimetres from his face, the shadow of his broken blinds shine upon your cheek. it hurts him to know that someone would dare look at you and want to hurt you.
if it were possible, he’d take all of your pain and carry it with him instead.
‘okay..’ he nods, resisting the urge to apologise once again.
you giggle and it sounds like the heavens have opened, pulling his body on top of yours as his bed makes an almighty squeak. if wayne wasn’t already awake, he certainly would be now.
-
eddie doesn’t know where the fuck you are.
you hadn’t come back to the trailer after work last night and now you’re nowhere to be found. you were supposed to start half an hour ago but hadn’t turned up and now his heart is pounding, mind racing at the horrific possibilities of what could’ve happened.
at first, he’d thought maybe he said something wrong? he’d just thrown out the suggestion of going to get the rest of your things and moving them in here while you got back on your feet. he hadn’t meant to push you out, god no, that was the last thing he wanted.
maybe stupidly he had presumed you wanted your own space. whatever the hell was going on between you two was so fresh, he didn’t want to even chance fucking it up.
the guilt wracks his brain, tempted to drop everything to drive around this tiny town looking for you. he’s so stupid. should’ve just kept his mouth shut and enjoyed it while you were there.
he’s just about to tell james that he’s leaving when the door to the bar opens and a rough looking man comes through with you held tightly underneath his arm. your eyes avoiding his direction, staring at the floor as the mystery man ushers you towards the back, making himself comfortable at the bar.
eddie’s heart shatters into a million pieces, watching open mouthed as you disappear into the back.
judging by the look on james’ face, he recognises him, reluctantly pouring his beer as they engage in useless small talk.
‘thought i’d better sit in for her shift.. wouldn’t want her running off again,’ the man announces, beady eyes glaring right into his soul.
eddie knows who he is. he’d never seen him before but he could tell. they all had that sinister aura about them, like they could flip at any given moment. his dad was the same, walking on egg shells around him just in case he said the wrong thing or looked at him the wrong way.
you emerge from the staff room, still vehemently avoiding eye contact, a shell of the you he saw just yesterday. ‘hey.. you okay?’ eddie asks, but it falls flat as you walk off without so much as a look back towards him.
he can’t believe it, how you could be so different so quickly. as if the past few weeks you’d spent together had meant nothing. he can’t blame you. not really. it’s a cycle and he knows better than anyone that it takes a thousand attempts to actually break out of it.
his shoulders slump as he rushes out the back, refusing to look at that assholes face any longer. willing himself to get a grip and not jump over that bar to strangle the piece of shit right now.
a hand clamps down on his shoulder and for a brief moment he thinks he might be you until james clears his throat, shuffling on his feet behind him, ‘you can’t save her man,’ squeezing his shoulder firmly, ‘you think we haven’t tried?’
eddie sniffs, shrugging him off. he didn’t appreciate the patronising tone in which james was speaking to him.
because god knows, if he couldn’t save his mom, there’s no fucking chance he’s not saving you.
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spacerockfloater · 1 month
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Why the fuck does Laena Velaryon, who is canonically younger than Rhaenyra Targaryen in the show, look like a fucking 20-year-old in episode 5 while Rhaenyra, her elder, still looks fucking 13? Why the actual fuck did they change the YOUNGER girl’s actress and made her look older, but it’s okay for Rhaenyra to continue looking like a preteen? I’ll tell you why.
They’re trying to distract us from the fact that creepy ass Daemon is courting a 14-year-old. A FOURTEEN YEAR OLD. Rhaenyra is 15 in episode 1 and Laena is 12, meaning they have a 3 year age gap. Then, Viserys tells Rhaenyra that she must marry since she’s 17 now, making Laena 14, maybe 15 at best. So they obviously can’t afford having Daemon thirst over a child again, therefore this is a shitty attempt to cover up the fact that Laena still is a very fucking young child.
HBO what is this? Why do your casting choices indicate that you’re trying to use some kind of ageist technique to manipulate your viewers? Why are the supposedly good guys, Rhaenyra and her children, portrayed by very young actors? Is this to show how innocent and pure they are? Why are the characters who are supposedly evil, Aegon and Aemond, or the character for whom we shouldn’t worry too much about since she’s just a tool for Daemon’s story line to develop, Laena, portrayed by obviously older actors even though they’re all supposed to be kids? Because the youth = good people and old = bad people analogy is fucking gross and lowkey paedophilic. Not to mention how weird it is to make all the black girls in the show look like fucking grown ups. What kind of racist bullshit is this?
I can’t understand HBO’s decisionmaking for the love of me. Like, on the one hand, it’s so obvious that they’re forcing Daemon and Rhaenyra down our throats, to the point that I actually laughed out loud when the show runner said “he doesn’t get why people like Daemon”. Like, my guy, you MADE the show. You made him look like an appealing, dangerous, sexy, strong, victorious and mysterious man, so what do you mean you don’t get the appeal? On the other hand though, most of the actions that they allow Daemon to perform are so horrifying that it makes it impossible for a sane person to stand beside him and defend him. Like, they try to sugarcoat that he’s an abusive piece of shit yeah, but they somehow don’t shy away from the fact that he’s terrible? Are they doing both of these things on purpose? Are they trying to challenge the viewer, to show us how abusers, despite being openly deranged, still have their way of dazzling their victims, the average person, and hypnotising them with their charm? Is Daemon doing to us (and by us I mean you Daemon stans, not me, stay safe though) what he’s doing to Rhaenyra and Laena? Are the show producers testing the average viewer’s intelligence and ability to recognise an abuser? Will there be a lesson to be learned?
I would like to hope so but I highly doubt it, because while one could support this theory by arguing that changing Laena’s actress is an attempt to mask Daemon’s degenerative nature a bit so that it isn’t completely obvious that he’s a bad man, someone else could counter this argument by saying that we’ve already seen Daemon groom a minor so this wouldn’t be something new. We’ve seen him do much more violent crimes actually, so why shy away from the fact he’s a groomer when we are already aware of this? Idk man, I really want to think that HBO is trying to make us see that Daemon is an evil person, but then indirectly glorifying him constantly makes me believe they just want people to root for him.
P.S. I may anger a lot of people by saying this, so I’ll make myself clear by stating that I love and greatly respect actors who specialise in portraying evil characters, because doing so and not losing yourself is a challenge (*cough* Leto *cough*) but if done correctly, it’s a true showcase of one’s talent and hard work. Lee, De Niro, Hopkins, Bardem and Rickman are just a few to name. However, Matt Smith has never rubbed me the right way. No hate to the guy, I don’t even know him, but I’ve seen him play the villain in three separate occasions (HOTD, Last Night in Soho, Morbius) and I just get these weird vibes, but I usually told myself it’s just my imagination running wild. However, I recently found out that Smith claimed that Daemon is a loyal man who loves deeply and that his “heir for a day” brothel feast was his way of honouring Aema, which really disturbed me for obvious reasons. I don’t know if he said this because he’s trying to defend his character and by extension himself, or if he just wants to promote the show, or if he doesn’t understand Daemon or if he funnily enough has fallen victim to his own character’s charm and I don’t care because it is a dangerous thing to say. Painting this character, the arrogant, obnoxious, self serving, people slaughtering, wife murdering, backstabbing, abusing, grooming, lying, manipulating, war criminal of a man, in such a positive light while being a man yourself, knowing that most of this character’s supporters are young impressionable women who just find him hot, makes me lowkey wanna cover my drink in his presence, I don’t know.
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babiebom · 4 months
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How Many kids I think the Bachelor/ettes would (want to) have
A/N: because I like thinking about things~ also because I started thinking about it because I want a lot of kids and I wondered who I would actually work well with. Late Merry Christmas btw!!! And happy holidays!!
Tw:sex, maybe cursing idk I always put cursing, childbirth/children, mentions of issues with childbirth, mentions of postpartum depression, mentions of adoptions and other stuff surrounding it.
Wc: at least 5 bullet points for each
Sdv Masterlist
Sebastian
I think he would want either one kid only or as many as his partner wants
Because I can see him being a good dad to his kids
But like I also think that people like him only have one kid because they didn’t get along with their own siblings
So the trauma is like I don’t want to have to choose between my kids when they don’t get along and I don’t want any problems so having one is good
But I also thinks he would want to see how close siblings could be to live somewhat through them
So it’s literally a toss up
On the topic of adoption though he’d probably adopt an older kid if you’re okay with it
Like a teen that doesn’t have a family and is about to age out
I think he’s that type of person and you could adopt a baby or a younger kid later on.
I also think Robin would be present but not like constantly there. Like it’s grandmas for Christmas and other holidays and sometimes she visits but that’s it.
I do think that he would probably end up with a lot of kids bc he can’t keep it in his pants now that he has a significant other.
Sam
He’s going to have at least 3
I see him having 2 boys and a girl if I’m being honest and it would be really cute
All of them are learning to skateboard and something about music
I think he would be a very chaotic dad
Like you have a heart attack every couple of minutes being married to him
Like “yeah! Junior lost a tooth” “how’d he lose a tooth?” “He absolutely ate shit at the skatepark”
I think he would be happy to adopt but probably wouldn’t because of Jodi
I do headcanon Jodi as bit of judgemental
Like she won’t say anything outright but she will be passive aggressive like “I love allllll of my grandkids! Even (adopted child’s name)”
So if you guys do end up adopting for one reason or another you’ll only see Jodi for big holidays unless Sam can get her to change
Vincent is a sweet uncle though and Kent is a decent grandfather. Refuses to tell stories of the war to them though. Jodi is an overbearing but GREAT grandmother when she’s not being petty
Shane
Well he already has Jas so he either will have one more so she has a sibling/cousin
or he will have like 4 more to make the total 5
I do think he would like a big family
But all of the kids are a couple years apart at least because he does want to make sure they all are happy
It takes a while for you two to have kids or adopt because he does still have depression and thinks he would be a shitty father
But he’d be the best out of the bachelors I think maybe number two
Because I feel like out of all of them his love would be greater simply because he does have that self hate and he wants to make sure he’s doing as well as he can
Jas is VERY happy to be a big sister
Harvey
Harvey is a 2 kid guy
Like he would be a 1 kid guy but he’s afraid that the child would be lonely
I also think he would be an only child so he doesn’t want his kid to have the same childhood as him
But the kids would definitely have an age gap
Like at least 8 years because he wants to make sure you(if you’re a person who can give birth) are okay after giving birth.
I also think that if he adopts he would go for siblings specifically
Like two kids that don’t want to be separated by the system or two kids who are biologically related he would go for them
Simply because he wants two kids anyways and keeping people together is what would make him happy
Alex
Either 1 or 4 there’s no in between
I feel like you would have either all boys or all girls with him
Like his genes are very predictable not gonna lie
No matter what gender I think he would make all of them play gridball
Would be hella sad if none of the kids liked the sport bc COME ON
I do think that in his heart he would like to adopt
Especially if it’s to save a kid that’s in a bad family situation
Because in a way his grandparents adopted him after his father left and his mother died
Like those are his parents for lack of actual mom and dad
Very sweet dad but does have sexist tendencies
Like if you have daughters he would be much more strict with them but also would spoil them rotten
And while he’s not as strict with the boys he’s also not as sweet on them.
You have to get him to open up and realize that raising the kids in a specific way can breed resentment towards him. He gets smarter the more kids you have.
Elliott
I think Elliott would want one or two
I don’t know why but I see him as a guy that doesn’t have a lot of kids
Mostly because I feel like he would still like to have time with his partner and having a lot of kids would take away from that unless you can get a sitter or something
But I also feel like he wouldn’t want daycare or a babysitter or nanny
He wants to raise the kids together especially because you both work from home
Also having more than I think 3 for him would make it so he has no time to work on writing
And having only a couple would mean he can evenly give enough attention to the kids.
While for some people having a lot of kids is not a problem with attention and love I think Elliot knows that he’s the type of person that cannot be spread too thin.
Which isn’t a bad thing.
If you’re same sex he is not opposed to adoption
Would like to adopt twins though
Would prefer boy girl twins but obviously won’t throw a fit if it doesn’t work out that way
You’re adopting kids not a dog.
Penny
Easily at least 6
I don’t think she would have the most easy pregnancies
But she will make it look as if she’s the perfect housewife and that bearing children is a breeze for her
She loves kids and wants a big happy family especially because of her upbringing
So if you marry her expect her to want to have kids that are all at least a year apart in age
Doesn’t mind getting pregnant again as soon as you’re cleared for sex
I do think she would prefer to bear children instead of adopt but she’s not opposed to it
I could also see her becoming a foster mother at some point and taking in a bunch of children because she has an empty nest
If you’re the same sex she would probably want ivf
Like obviously this isn’t meant to be offensive and some people have different takes
But she also won’t like be upset that you have to adopt and she would make sure to adopt a BUNCH of children
Is a good mother and tries hard to spread her attention evenly.
You having a farm is great for this type of situation not gonna lie
Leah
To be VERY honest I see Leah as the kind of woman to be a single mom
Not because she gets divorced or her partner dies
It’s literally by choice only her and her kid in their cabin painting.
BUT OBVIOUSLY in this scenario she’s married to you
She would still only have 1 or 2 kids
I don’t think she would really enjoy being pregnant
Like she would like doing the pregnancy art things
But the state of being that she’s in is HORRIBLE she HATES IT
But she loves her kid so much that she’s like okay I can do it one more time.
Maru
Maru is either a one person kid or a 5 person kid tbh
And I do think that science people be lowkey freaky
So I do think she would have a lot of kids
Like somehow she’s always pregnant and everyone is like ?????? Another kid?????
And shes like YEAH I KNOW ISNT THE HUMAN BODY AMAZING????
Y’all’s kids are super smart ngl
Like you’re like???????wtf
Like even if you end up adopting they’re super smart and you’re like ????????? WTF HOW
Though they are still very interested in farming.
Somehow combines the two and creates a super farm
Like you make so much more money after having kids it’s insane.
Haley
Two or three kid woman
No matter how strong your genes are your kids will always have either blonde hair or blue eyes if not both.
Out of all the people having kids your kids with her would have the most normal names
She was a mean girl in high school she’s not setting up her kids for failure from the beginning
Unlike the others who would be on board with homeschooling if that’s what you wanted Haley wants the kids in public or private school.
Shes not much of a teacher and you’re always working on the farm so she wants them to have a good chance of being smart.
I think that y’all would have tons of baby books for the kids because she takes at least 10 pictures a day
Like there is no running out of embarrassing baby pictures your kids better behave lmao
Actually a good mom and ends up being one of those “I’m a cool mom right” women
But she’s actually kinda cool when she’s not making dated references.
Emily
One kid that is just as weird as she is
It doesn’t matter if the kid is adopted or not they behave just like her
But also I think she would go for adopting or fostering the more troubled children because they need love too
And I think she’s the perfect person to understand people on a different level than others.
A very sweet mother that is different than the other bachelor/ettes
Your kid turns out very happy, kind, and connected to the world
They might be a little weird like her
But are well liked by the people who find themselves misunderstood.
She would also be the type of person to run a foster home.
Abigail
I think Abby would like 2 kids.
I think she was very lonely as a kid
Especially with her father only focusing on his work and her mother hanging out with her but not really understanding her likes and hobbies
If she had a sibling there could be a chance that they won’t get along but she feels in her heart that they would’ve been close
So she would have two kids that are like maybe 2 years apart or 5 years apart
I don’t think she would enjoy being pregnant but she enjoys it more than she thought she would
Is not willing to go through giving birth again
So if you’re a person who could give birth if you want more than 2 kids then you’re giving birth
If you’re a person that can get others pregnant then you better plan for a surrogate or adoption because like I said she’s not going through that labor shit again
She is open to having more than 2 kids but like there’s other things that you have to do if you want them
Is a decent mom is kinda awkward with mothering but tries her best
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red-might-be-dead · 21 days
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hello hi here to force strange thoughts into your brain once again, this time about jrwi (wow who could’ve guessed)
been thinking about this for a little but it’s basically what i think some campaigns would be if not podcasts, i haven’t listened to some of the older ones so i’m sorry they’re not on here :(( if you have any ideas feel free to add them btw :DD
RIPTIDE!!!!! - really long animated series
not an anime though, no matter how much grizzly wants it, it would be an animation style where the characters could have very clearly different nose, face and body shapes, really pushing my riptide nose agenda here sorry, each episode would be like 20-40 minutes long and instead of coming out in seasons there would be massive gaps in between episodes, from 2-6 months long, to leave time for writers and animators to get stuff done (massive team of animators btw, i feel like it would be pretty successful)
PRIME DEFENDERS!! - comics
literally nothing else they could be, just really well made, well performing comics (i’ve already talked about this before you can stalk my talk tag if you really want to find it lmao), the comic company making them would be keeping well away from movies n shit btw
APOTHEOSIS!!! - i wasn’t really sure about this one to be honest
i had to ask my friend and she said anime which i don’t agree with but i can see it, i think maybe a short book series where each book is 150 - 300 pages and is about a different god they have to kill/a different episode, i think that works but if anyone has any better ideas please tell me :D!!
BLOOD IN THE BAYOU!!! - i hate to say it, i really do…
bitb would be a really long really good 80s horror book with strong homoerotic undertones, a satisfied fanbase and lots of active members in the community making fan comics, films, writing, theories and art ect… until well after the book came out……….. and then it would be made into the most egregious and awful live action movie you have ever seen, the most awful casting (like chris pratt as officer dudes….. throws up) and even worse sfx, oh yeah and the characters would be ruined and the story would become so butchered it wouldn’t make sense, they would do some shit like cut out becky so kian just kisses some random lady (removing both a really good and well written character and a layer of kian’s character that i think is super important) and make rolan really be an evil bug spy the whole time so rand has to kill him to save the town also add in a whole new sub plot that never existed like the rand family is secretly a long line of bug alien hunters or something fucking stupid like that and the entire fanbase would murder whoever thought re-writing the story was a good idea (ahaha can you tell ive been through something like this before ahahaha, character morals and motives being removed and whatnot ahahahhahahaha.)
anyways………
THE SUCKENING!!! - live action series
it would be well made though, unlike the bitb movie it would be its own original thing, have great makeup and effects also be well casted and well shot, well written, ect ect, it would bloody and gory and not suitable for people who can’t handle showing bones and organs all over everywhere, lots of shitty rip off merch would be made though and the fandom would be 99% gay little freaks (normal suckening enjoyers) and 1% homophobic straight white men who get mad whenever they see soda and emizel having gay sex on screen or whatever fag shit that biting thing was
again feel free to add your thoughts and ideas and shit in the reblogs it would be nice to read them :DD!!
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captainsophiestark · 6 months
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Happy Ending
Luke Castellan x Reader
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Masterlist - Join My Taglist!
Written for Fictober 2023!
Fandom: Percy Jackson
Day 22 Prompt: "Who takes care of you?"
Summary: What if Luke had come by to see Y/N, his pre-betrayal best friend and SO, instead of Annabeth between books 3 and 4?
Word Count: 4,189
Category: Angst, Fluff
A/N: I really loved the vibes of this post by @m4gp13 so this is very loosely inspired by it, even though the main body of the story doesn't have much to do with it lol
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
I sighed, staring at the piles of boxes on the floor of my dorm room. The spring semester of my second year of college was just coming to a close, and I still had a lot to do to be ready for everything after it finished. I was moving into my own apartment for the summer, and needed to move from the dorm room to my new apartment. As soon as that was over, I'd planned a visit to Camp Half-Blood, the training camp for heroes I kept going back to, even though I was technically an adult.
I needed to pack everything in my dorm, move it to my apartment, and then be able to unpack everything I'd need for a few weeks visiting camp. This packing job would need to be strategically worthy of Athena.
I'd just barely managed to psych myself up to get started when a knock came at my door. I huffed a sigh, but I really didn't mind the distraction all that much.
"Coming!" I called. I glanced out the peep hole, then froze solid when I saw Luke Castellan staring back at me.
My heart stopped dead in my chest. I looked again and saw he had no monsters with him, at least not visibly, but I couldn't understand why he would come here without them.
Luke had been one of my closest friends in the world since we met as kids, on the run together from our mutually shitty families. We'd met first, then found Thalia and Annabeth after. Luke and I were the same age, and we'd been thick as thieves since day one, Hermes pun intended. As we'd gotten older, a small crush I'd had on Luke had grown massive, and luckily for me he'd returned my feelings. We'd been happily dating and in love ever since, until two summers ago, when he'd betrayed me and every single one of our friends and joined Kronos.
I'd barely talked to him since. We only had contact once and a while, and every time, it went the same way. I was hurt, he was apologetic but not willing to change any of his decisions. Me and the rest of Camp fought him and his monsters, and I tried not to fall apart at the loss of the love of my life.
The distraction provided by college had been a serious, serious relief.
But now, Luke was here. In the middle of space where I very intentionally avoided thinking about him, on my doorstep for whatever reason. And I had no idea what to do.
"Y/N? I know you're in there. I'm here under a flag of truce. I just want to talk."
Just like that, any desire to duck and hide crumbled. The rational part of my brain screamed at me that he could be lying, that this might just be a trap, but I ignored it. After everything we'd been through, if Luke said he wanted to talk, I wanted to hear him out.
I opened the door, and Luke's shoulders sagged with relief when he saw me. I wanted to dart forward and wrap him in a hug, something I hadn't been able to do in two years, but I held myself back. Luke shifted a little from foot to foot, looking incredibly awkward, so after a second's hesitation I stepped to the side.
"Would you like to come in?"
He gave me a suspicious look, like he thought it was a trap or a trick or something. My heart shattered in my chest. How had things gone this wrong, that we stood on opposite sides of the door as basically strangers?
"My house is a mess, because I'm in the middle of packing up to move, but... if you want to talk, Luke, I feel like the hallway isn't gonna be the best place to do it."
He gave me a curt nod, not quite meeting my eyes as he walked past me into my apartment. I glanced down the hallway, taking one last look to make sure we didn't have any lingering monsters, but things were deserted. I sighed and went back into my apartment, closing the door behind me.
I found Luke hovering in the space between the kitchen and the living room, surveying things with a strange look on his face. I moved toward him carefully, not getting too close in case I spooked him.
"Do you want some tea or something? I haven't packed my electric kettle yet-"
"I think tea might take longer than the five minutes I promised."
I turned to look at Luke, raising one eyebrow in challenge, a little bit of our old rapport back. He shifted his weight around and glanced towards the door, then met my eyes again.
"Luke... is some giant monster going to burst through my door in five minutes? Or an army of small monsters, or anything under that general monster-army umbrella?"
"What? No, no, there's... no. I'm here under a flag of truce. There's nothing coming to hurt you, and when I leave... I'll leave."
"Okay then," I said, deciding not to comment on just how shaken and pale Luke looked, at least not right now. "Then I'm giving you a pass on the five minutes. And electric kettles take like two seconds anyway, seriously. They're magical."
Luke huffed, shaking his head as an incredulous smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. My heart squeezed, but I made myself move towards the kitchen and act like things were normal.
"Take a seat, Luke. Or come pick your tea."
Luke took the second option, and my heart doubled its speed when I felt him hovering behind me, closer than we'd been in a long time if you didn't count combat. He leaned over my shoulder to point to the bag of black tea on my counter, and I nodded as I poured the hot water into our cups. I dropped two teabags in each of our drinks, then turned to Luke with a smile.
He stood a little more than a foot from me, and he took the cup from my hands carefully, like he didn't want this bubble of peace and normalcy to burst either. I stared into his beautiful, bright blue eyes, a smile growing on my face again despite myself. I'd missed this. A lot.
The moment lasted another few seconds, and then Luke cleared his throat and looked away. He took a tentative sip of his tea, then looked at me again, his face deadly serious.
"I don't know how to say this. I... I learned some things recently, about some plans I wasn't aware of before."
He paused and took another sip of his tea, and his hand shook a little as he brought the mug away from his lips. Shock coursed through my body as I realized Luke was scared.
"Kronos, he- he's going to use me. He's going to use me to take over the world. This summer... he's going to use me like a stepping stone, until he gets so much power he's unstoppable."
"Luke... what are you saying?"
His eyes had wandered to stare holes in the wall of my kitchen while he'd talked, but now they snapped back to me, wide and full of urgency.
"I'm saying I want to run away. I want us to run away, like the old days. Before... before he gets the chance to carry out his plan."
I stared at Luke for a few minutes, then shook my head, scoffing and pushing past him into the living room of my house. I paced a little, trying to make sense of what he'd just told me. What he'd just asked of me.
"Luke... I don't know what to say!" I finally admitted, completely honest as I turned back to him. He watched me, his expression guarded. "I don't... I don't think I can just run away. Not from the life I've managed to build, not from our friends still here and risking their lives!"
"So that's it, then?" he asked, taking a few steps forward, his tone angry. "Your answer's no?"
I huffed a laugh, staring at anything in the room except for Luke and trying to think. My brain was working a million miles an hour, but I still needed a little bit of time to think things through. But I wasn't sure I had time.
"Okay, Luke, can we sit down for a minute? Actually talk about this?" I said, taking slow steps towards him. I set my mug down on the nearest table, then reached out to gently rest my hands on his. A storm of emotions raged behind his eyes, but he didn't stop me or pull away. "This is a lot to take in all at once. Can we work through this together?"
His jaw worked like he was holding back some retort, but he let me pull him along towards the couch. Slowly, together, we sank down onto the cushions. I only pulled one hand back, and made sure our knees rested against each other, hoping it would do something to help keep Luke grounded.
"I don't want to run," I said simply, meeting his eyes. He opened his mouth, looking ready with an outburst again, but I continued before he could. "But Luke, think about it. Where are we gonna go that he doesn't find you, especially if he wants to? Monsters can sniff us out. We'd never, ever be able to live another day without looking over our shoulders."
Luke's shoulders sagged, and he shook his head miserably as he stared at the half-full mug in his hand.
"Then there's no hope."
"That's not what I said. And it's also not true." Luke scoffed, shooting me a look out of the corner of his eye. I looked right back. "If you don't want to follow through on what Kronos is asking of you, why not just come back with me? To Camp, to my somewhat normal life. I have an apartment with space for two. You could even enroll with me next semester, if you wanted to."
Luke shook his head. He pursed his lips as he raised his head to meet my eyes again.
"And let the Olympians continue exploiting us? Let them keep destroying people and lives because we don't matter to them?"
I huffed a sigh. "Look, I'm not their biggest fan either, but right now it seems like it's 'let Kronos kill you' or 'stop fighting the Olympians'."
Luke shook his head again, more energized this time, more angry. He stared at the wall ahead of us, the same hurt and bitterness I'd seen from him over the years burning in his eyes.
"It's just not right. There should be something we can do. Something that isn't Kronos, but isn't letting the Olympians win."
And just like that, a lightbulb went off in my head.
"Luke... what if there was a way we could do that?"
****************
That night, Luke and I stayed up until almost two in the morning brainstorming and working out the details of my plan. When we finally decided to get some sleep, he stayed with me, and curling up in the same tiny twin bed, falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, had me more at peace and ease than I had been in a long, long time.
The next morning, we finalized a few things over breakfast. Then, there was nothing left to do but put our plan into action.
Luke stayed in the apartment, tasked with keeping his head down and finishing packing for me, since I had other places I had to be. Namely, Camp Half-Blood. A little earlier than I'd talked about with Chiron, and hopefully, before the place was crawling with campers for the summer.
Thankfully, it didn't take me too long to get to Camp. I arrived a little after lunch and found the place expectedly deserted. From the top of the hill, I could see some of the year-rounders moving around the lake. I tried to keep them from noticing me as I headed straight for the Big House.
I paused just outside the front door to steel my nerves one last time, then marched inside. I found Chiron and Mr. D sitting together, apparently deep in conference. They both looked up when they noticed me, matching looks of surprise on their faces (although Chiron's had a noticeably happier edge to it).
"Y/N! We weren't expecting you for another few weeks-"
"I'm not staying for long. Something just came up that I needed to talk to you about right away. To both of you, actually, especially Mr. D."
He raised a bored eyebrow in my direction but otherwise didn't move. Chiron motioned to a chair at the table.
"By all means, please."
"That's alright, I think I'll stand," I said. I took a deep breath, squaring my shoulders and straightening my spine. I would not back down, wouldn't leave until I'd succeeded. Luke and I's future depended on it.
I took a moment to make very intentional, determined eye contact with Mr. D. His other eyebrow raised.
"I'm here to bargain for a pardon for Luke Castellan."
Silence. Both Chiron and Mr. D just stared at me for a few long moments, then turned to look at each other. Chiron looked concerned, but Mr. D burst out laughing.
"He's a traitor and an enemy of Olympus! This has all been very boring and ridiculous, and a waste of our time. Get out."
Mr. D's last word had a firey threat behind it, but I didn't flinch.
"You and the rest of the Olympians are perfectly aware what a threat Kronos presents. Everybody's getting scared, and they should be. He's got a plan for returning to his Titan form, the one he had before he was defeated the first time, before Zeus cut him apart and cast him into Tartarus. And it's a plan that he can definitely make succeed.
"Luke knows all about this plan. Obviously. And he's willing to defect and tell you all about it, so we can stop it before it happens. But you have to give him a complete pardon, sworn on the River Styx by Zeus."
Mr. D snorted again, this time raising from his chair and taking a few threatening steps towards me. I still didn't back down.
"Y/N, listen," Chiron interrupted, shuffling forward a little bit to stand partially in between me and Mr. D. "If you have information that could save Olympus and the camp-"
"Oh, I have some. Just like Chris Rodriguez had some. But Luke has all of it. And you're not getting any of it without giving him a pardon first."
"Or we could force it out of you before finding your little boyfriend and doing the same to him," said Mr. D, his tone light but his eyes blazing. Chiron started to step in again, but I spoke up before he got the chance.
"You haven't been able to find him this long, you won't be able to find him now. And anybody who knows anything about interrogations knows that torture just plain and simple doesn't work for getting information." Mr. D grunted, but we both knew I had him there. "Besides, if Luke gets his pardon, that means more than just getting all the information from Kronos' former right hand man. It also means that Kronos loses said right hand man, who's been organizing and leading a lot of the work so far."
Chiron and Mr. D shared a look, and I tried not to let it show just how much my heart was racing. For the first time since I'd walked in here, I actually felt a glimmer of hope that my plan might succeed. Chiron turned back to me, the worried look still on his face.
"Y/N... what makes you so confident that Luke wants to defect?"
"He sought me out," I answered simply, trying to dance around his location at least a bit. "He's realizing quickly just how bad Kronos would and could be, and he's scared. Terrified. He wants a way out, so when he found me, he asked me to run away with him. I suggested trying this plan first, mostly so I don't have to leave behind everyone else I love. But also because, this way, you might stand a chance against Kronos that you wouldn't have if we'd left without offering information."
The conversation continued for almost another hour, centered mostly around Mr. D making threats and, when I didn't back down, reminding me that I was trying to demand something of Zeus. He made plenty of good points, but I'd thought through all the ways this plan could go terribly, painfully wrong with Luke before I'd come here. I wasn't going to give in, for anything.
Finally, after restating my points and my argument a few times, Mr. D agreed to bring my request to Mount Olympus. I waited anxiously in the Big House with Chiron, whose brow remained deeply creased the entire time. I didn't engage, intentionally avoiding the conversation he looked like he wanted to have, but I saw him watching me out of the corner of my eye.
I started to get worried as the evening came, but finally, Mr. D reappeared. The first time he'd delivered his news, I honestly hadn't believed him. I asked him to repeat himself, which he rolled his eyes over, but the words were the same. Somehow, by some miracle, I'd managed to succeed.
Zeus was willing to give Luke his pardon in exchange for information and defecting.
I wasn't a complete idiot, so made sure the terms were clear when Mr. D brought me to Olympus to witness the oath. The words covered any retaliation, punishment, or harm that might come to Luke, and completely prevented it. Zeus spoke the words and the sky rumbled with lightning. I tried not to shake in relief or from the adrenaline dump as I bowed and promised he wouldn't regret his decision. Hermes shot me a grateful look on my way out, and I returned his nod. He'd been awful to Luke, but we were aligned in not wanting to see him dead, and I got the feeling Hermes had been helpful in pleading my case.
When we returned to the Big House, I headed for the door as quickly as possible, promising to bring Luke back with me in a week when I'd been planning to return anyway. I still had to move out and then move in to a new place again, and Luke had assured me that week of time wouldn't cost the war.
I raced back home, breaking almost every traffic law in the process, but I didn't care at all. I called out to Luke from the hallway, so he wouldn't be scared when I flung the door open, then rushed to wrap him in a giant hug. We sank to the floor together, crying in relief, and stayed like that for a long, long time.
The next week felt like a dream. Luke and I finished packing up my old apartment, then moved together into the new one, which we'd started calling 'ours'. We had to duck monsters a few times, and Luke was still in significant danger, but this time we were on the same side. As we settled into our new place on the last night before we were supposed to head back to camp, I quite literally couldn't have been happier.
It was a little strange returning to camp with Luke, but I quickly got over my own concerns when I saw how tense he was. I held his hand the whole way in, and thankfully, we'd still managed to get here before most of the summer campers. Luke and I sat shoulder to shoulder in the Big House while he told Mr. D and Chiron everything about Kronos and his operation. It took hours, and I could tell Luke struggled to get a lot of it out. But he did.
It had taken long enough that we decided to stay the night, even though I could see Luke clearly didn't want to. We stayed in the Big House, and the next morning, we finished the last of the intel-sharing before heading back home.
Chiron stopped Luke on the way out the door with a hand on his shoulder and said he was so happy to have Luke back. Luke just nodded, but I squeezed his hands as I noticed a single tear making its way down his cheek as we left.
"You know..." I said as we climbed in the car. I was driving, and Luke stared determinedly out the window. "Chiron's probably not the only one who'd be happy to have you back. There might be some apology tour type-stuff, but for the most part... I think you'd get a warm welcome home."
Luke just gave a noncommittal grunt, and I let it go. That was a bridge we could cross later.
For now, we still had one final part of our plan to put into action.
The reason Luke had joined Kronos in the first place was because he'd been neglected by his Olympic parent, especially since his mortal parent had been in such a bad place. He'd discovered the hard way that Kronos was no better alternative, but the fact remained that the gods used their mortal children at best, and at worst completely ignored them for their entire lives.
We needed to find a third option, some middle ground way to make things better. So, we decided to be the change we wanted to see.
As legal adults with a newly moved-in apartment that had a decent amount of space, we had the power to make our home a space for demigods who had nowhere else to go. If their immortal parents were neglecting them and things weren't good with their mortal parent either, they could come to us. For a little while, or to stay for good. We made our own little sanctuary, then shared it with all the kids like us who'd needed it.
Over time, the operation expanded, and we moved into a bigger apartment with more space. Thanks in part to Luke and I, Camp Half-Blood won the war, and we were able to do even more once Kronos stopped being a threat. What had started as not much more than a dream of doing good had turned into a loud, busy, happy house with people constantly coming and going.
Which is how we'd ended up in an alleyway talking to a scared teenager, after helping defeat a monster who'd been bearing down on him.
"Who takes care of you?" asked Luke, a sympathetic and understanding frown on his face as we stood a little ways from the kid. We didn't want to make him uncomfortable, but we'd gotten good at spotting the signs of a young Half-Blood in distress and helping them.
"I take care of myself," the kid spit. I tried not to glance at Luke.
"We used to do that, too," I said, moving a little closer to Luke. "We both ran away from home, survived on the streets, although I guess we really took care of each other."
"Now, we take care of people like you," Luke continued, right where I'd left off. "Do you know what you are?"
The kid hesitated, then half shook his head. He at least had some idea, then.
"You're a Half-Blood," I said. "Half mortal, half immortal Olympian god."
"...What?"
"Look, I know it's a lot to process," said Luke. "But the longer the three of us sit in this alley, the more likely it is another monster's gonna come and pick a fight."
We managed to get the kid up and moving, heading back for our apartment. On the way, we explained more about the Olympians, and told him about Camp Half-Blood.
"It's a good place to get training, and to meet other Half-Bloods like you," I said. "A place for heroes."
"It's only one option, though," Luke added. The kid nodded, looking a little overwhelmed but excited as we stopped outside our apartment door.
"And... what's the other option?"
Luke and I shared a smile, then he pushed open the door to our apartment.
Inside, we were immediately greeted with a wave of noise and excitement. We'd left Ethan Nakamura, one of the Half-Bloods Luke had met away from camp, in charge, and he'd been leading the rest of our group in basic combat lessons.
"What... what is this place?"
"A place for normal kids who need somebody to take care of them," Luke answered. "You'll still get training, since monsters will always be trying to kill you."
"But we won't ever ask anything of you, other than to do your own damn dishes," I said. "No dangerous quests, no tribute to the gods. Just our own little makeshift family going through life together."
Luke put his arm around me, pulling me into his side and kissing my temple as Ethan noticed our newcomer and waved him over to join in the fun. Luke and I stayed where we were, watching the bubble of happiness we'd made together with smiles on our faces. We'd gone through hell and back to get here, but as far as I was concerned, every moment of pain had been worth it for Luke and I's happy ending.
****************
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