#she stuck around willingly for much longer than she wanted to since she was scared of cake and found tge other ppl living there annoying | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

misstrashchan · 3 years

Text

“Maybe there was something there you just weren’t seeing” (Maria to Ruby, regarding Cinder, 6x08)

Rewatching v6 and the scene with Ruby and Maria where they discuss the Silver Eyes, and just being struck after everything we’ve seen in v8 how neatly the pieces are all being laid out for us here:

-Ruby repeatedly being able to hurt Cinder with her eyes because of her Grimm arm, but never killing her.

- Maria very firmly stating that the Silver Eyes are not meant to be thought as a means of killing, but of saving lives

-Every time Cinder is hurt by Ruby only further drives her into pain, anguish, and bitterness, and deepens her fear and hatred of Ruby, and her belief that Ruby is her greatest threat

- The actual fact being that Salem is Cinder’s greatest threat, the obvious parallels being drawn between how the Madame abused and controlled Cinder via the electric shock collar as a child, and how Salem abuses and controls Cinder much the same through the Grimm arm, how she is still stuck in her awful childhood and can never achieve her true desire, never be free as long as she serves Salem. As long as she can control her through the Grimm she is fused too.

- A huntsman named Rhodes, (as in meaning “where roses grow”) who tried to help Cinder as a child but was unwilling to challenge his own perception of her once she broke the law, once his view of her, to Cinder, was looking at her with eyes that perceived her as a villain, as a monster. Irredeemable, someone who needed to be hurt, stopped, contained, punished. Someone who was no longer worthy of help, someone beyond saving, someone who was being treated as a threat that others needed to be protected from

- Ruby purposefully using her Silver Eyes against Cinder with the intent to protect others from her, because of her traumatic experiences relating to Cinder at the FoB having instinctively come to only see Cinder as a threat she needs to protect others from

- Ruby’s reaction to seeing that Cinder is fused to a Grimm after intentionally using her eyes against her, and again having a similar horrified reaction realising that the Hound was a Grimm fused with a human person after intentionally using her Silver Eyes against them as well.

The Silver Eyes are not a force of destruction. They are not meant to kill human lives. They are meant to protect and preserve humanity, all of human life.

Ruby: So, how do I laser beam monsters with my eyeballs?

Maria: First, you stop thinking like that! I want you to think of all the times you've triggered your powers. What did those moments have in common?

Ruby: I... was scared, and stressed. Is it emotional? Like unlocking a Semblance?

Maria: It's emotional but more focused than that. Think, what is it you wanted?

Ruby: I wanted to protect my friends.

Maria: Precisely! It is the desire to preserve life which fuels the light inside you. And to make no mistake, it is light. Preservation is an extension of creation, or, at the very least, an enemy of destruction. The Creatures of Grimm were made by the God of Darkness, but your light comes from his brother.

Maria’s advice to Ruby is to challenge Ruby’s initial perception of how she thinks of the Silver Eyes and the way in which they are used, the emotions and motives behind triggering her powers. And Ruby also learns that there are different ways one can use the Silver Eyes, being able to turn Grimm to stone, blind them or vaporise them. But the most important thing to take away is that the different ways Ruby can use her Silver Eyes that she has yet to learn, and how Ruby uses them, is determined by her own personal intent.

“Don’t think about your light as a means of destroying evil, but as a way to protect the people of Remnant”

In the past, the way in which Rhodes and Ruby have both chosen to see Cinder as a threat to be dealt with and refusing to look at the person that is hurting, scared and in need of help, has only driven to prove Cinder’s view of huntsmen and herself, and has only made her more hurt, afraid, and traumatized, and less likely to break out of the cycle of pain in which she endures and inflicts on others.

We know Cinder needs to break free of Salem. We know she’ll eventually realise she has to get rid of the Grimm arm to do that. We know that only Ruby would be able to help Cinder vaporise the Grimm arm and free her from Salem’s control. But we also know that Ruby has used her eyes on Cinder in the past, multiple times, and it’s only served to hurt Cinder, with the Grimm arm still remaining. So, what would have to change for Ruby’s eyes to work to save Cinder from the Grimm instead of hurting her?

She has to learn to see Cinder as a person. She has to see both human and monster. She has to see Cinder, really see her. If she wants to help her, to stop her hurting and her hurting others, to break the cycle, the intent and mindset Ruby has when using her eyes on Cinder has to change. Instead of thinking “I have to protect everyone from Cinder” she would have to think “I have to help Cinder”

Ruby has to realise there was something she wasn’t seeing. And, well, she’s already starting to:

And it’s just such a fascinating direction for both Ruby and Cinder to go down. Because it would present some of the most difficult personal challenges for them to overcome. Cinder already doesn’t like what the arm is doing to her, she doesn’t want to be a tool for Salem to use, but if she wants to be free of her she’ll have to ask for Ruby’s help. Cinder would have to be brave enough to be vulnerable around Ruby, who she is terrified of because of how she’s hurt her in the past, to trust that she won’t harm her, that Ruby will want to help her, to learn that she, Cinder, is deserving of help simply because she needs it and has asked for it, because her life is of value as much as any other person, because she is a person.

And Ruby, I think since the v7 finale, truly pities Cinder. After seeing the Hound and the person inside and having a similar reaction, I can’t imagine Ruby would think that anyone deserves such a horrible fate. And the duty of a Silver Eyed Warrior is to protect and preserve life, right? She should want to save Cinder, not harm her, given the opportunity, right? But I think that even after Ruby starts to see Cinder, not as a monster she needs to defeat or defend her friends from, but as a scared struggling human that needs her help in being freed from Salem’s control, that has willingly approached and asked for Ruby's help, (and I do believe the line "Cinder must redeem herself" cements the idea that Cinder would be the one to approach Ruby) I think using her eyes to free Cinder would still be something that Ruby would struggle to do.

I think she’d try to do it, because she’d know it would be the right thing to do, knows that it’s what she should do. But when it comes to using the Silver Eyes, what matters is the emotions and intent behind them. She can’t just decide to save Cinder with the SE because she knows that’s what she should do and disregard or suppress her own feelings towards Cinder, she has to want to do it in order for it to actually work. She has to willingly create that mindset of helping Cinder, and that’s something she’d struggle to do until actually thinking about and addressing her own personal feelings and trauma that are tied up with Cinder, given how Cinder has literally become someone who triggers Ruby’s Silver Eyes.

And it could be such a deliciously complex dilemma for Ruby, struggling between knowing that helping Cinder is the right thing to do, trying to repress her old resentment and anger towards Cinder and force herself to use her Silver Eyes in order to do that, upset and guilty that she can’t make it work, that she can’t just do this because there’s a part of her that doesn’t want too. And realising that she can’t help Cinder until she first helps herself, in overcoming her own trauma.

Not to quote Princess Mononoke or anything, but they both literally have to see each other with eyes unclouded by hate.

#rwby #rwby spoilers #ruby rose #cinder fall #rwby8 #rwby rhodes #salem #who ordered this big fat juicy rambling cinder/ruby meta? oh wait it was me #it's just #why are they putting all the pieces there if they don't expect me to put them together like a ginormous satisfying jigsaw like #what other reason #rwby6 #HAHA I FIGURED OUT THE READ MORE TAG YOU'RE WELCOME

790 notes · View notes

dotthemagpie · 3 years

Text

A weather-beaten Journal

The world gone to shit, it has Fallen.

A virus have knocked out most of the humanity and in a bid to survive had to fall into “serfdom".

The monsters starts to live out on Farms, and our favorite have one such farm.

The virus that knocked out humanity have the potential to turn monsters Feral, making them more like beasts than Monsters.

One day a servant finds a red and black journal, stained with yellow spots and smelling vaguely of mustard.

Since she was done with her tasks for today she decided to find a secluded corner and started to read.

Dec 16th, 6 years after the Fall

** **

My bro got the virus. He have been trying to hide it, trying his best to control himself, but today he lashed out and killed five servants when they got on his nerves. He growled and snarled like a beast, using his fang to tear out the throat of two of them before tearing the other three apart._

It is soulrending to see him act like this. He has already chosen a spot for himself in the barn, making himself a proper den before he loses his mind to his feral side. (There are smudges on a few words, as if tears had fallen while the person were writing it.)

…We are eating lasagna tonight, and it is the tastiest lasagna I have ever eaten. It seems like my bro have suddenly become the perfect chef. Not even Black, the critical fucker were praising the food a lot. Puzzle even said that he could never make a lasagna as good as that.

Skull devoured one and a half himself and pouted like a wounded puppy when he didn’t get any more.

My bro was so proud.

**Dec 20, 6 atf **

He tried to attack Blue today. Went right for his soul. Stretch almost killed him, and I had to beat the fucker until he learned that no one touches my lil’ bro. Blue just brushed it off like the damn tank he is, saying that it was his fault for getting too close to his room.

We had a meeting afterwards. Vanilla said that bro had to stay in the barn from now on. I almost beat the bastard, but I can’t deny it any longer. Edge has turned completely Feral.

(There are a few more blotches of faded tears on the edge of the page.)

** Dec 22, 6 atf **

The snow falling is nostalgic, although it is white instead of gray like it was Underground. Edge has settled in the pen, only letting me, Papyrus or Puzzle close. Papyrus is a literal ray of sunshine that he somehow tolerates, and he seem almost afraid of Puzzle, even though he is the kindest of them all.

He seems to remember who we are, but it is if he is more instinct than monster now. No wonder we call it the Feral Virus. Humans often die when they get it, but if they survive they turn immune.

** Dec 23, 6 atf **

Those fucking slaves. Throwing shit and manure on my bro? They have a fucking death wish.

I now know why my bro always been so nervous around Puzzle. Watching that smiling tall freak cut the throats of those humans like they were cattle shows how different he actually is from Papyrus.

I almost forget how both he and Skull survived a hell that was far worse than me and my bro lived through.

We gave the last slave that acted up, the leader to Edge. It was… liberating watching him play with him like a cat does with a mouse. I made all the servants watch, to show them what happens when they think that our kindness is a sign of weakness.

**Dec 24, 6 atf **

Merry fucking Gyftmas.

** Feb 12, 7 atf **

Black got himself a Pet. A cute little thing with attitude like no other. He seem to enjoy the distraction, and her need for cleanliness around her seem to get his approval.

Heh, he almost tried to kill me when I started to flirt with her. Fine fine, I get it, she is yours you caffeinated, uppity bitch.

** July 2nd, 7 atf **

Skull is turning Feral. It was hard noticing due to his wound and how quiet he tends to be, but he has become more and more territorial recently, and he even tried to bite Rus when he shortcutted too close to him.

Vanilla and I started looking for a cure the moment Edge started to show symptoms, but we had no headway so far.

**July 4th, 7 atf **

… I saw Puzzle cry in the kitchen last night when I went to look for some mustard. Black was there, trying his best to comfort him.

…I understand how he feels. When I visit my bro it feels like he doesn’t truly recognize me anymore. It hurts my soul.

July 15th, 7 atf

Skull moved into the barn. He took the largest one, as far away from Edge as possible, in order to not start any fights.

Smart of him, because my bro is territorial to a fault.

In other news, my bro has allowed Blue into the pen, and seems to enjoy his company from time to time.

Blue has decided to become the one to care for those that turn Feral, like the fucking goody two shoes he is.

Of course Stretch did not like this, and for the first time I saw them fight, loudly. Stretch hasn’t left the sheep pen in two days since the fight.

Rus and Puzzle delivers food to him, but when they come back they look like he had been mean as fuck to them.

Maybe I should tell Skull that Stretch has been cursing out Puzzle. He hasn’t turned completely Feral yet, and it would be good for the research… and put that lanky fucker down a few pegs….

Fucking Vanilla laughed at the idea, but said it would not be good if Stretch died. I don’t want to take care of the sheep, they freak me out, and Sans is always stuck in his lab, so he can live.

Aug 14th, 7 atf

…I think I am turning Feral.

There is a urge in my mind, like a fire of… something in my mind.

I told Vanilla, and he seemed to age in front of my eyes. He asked me to fight it as long as possible, and write down all the symptoms that I get.

I have already started a separate journal, writing down everything that happens to me.

I hope that it will help in some way at least.

I am going to treat this like a extra long vacation, if anything I will be finally sleeping as much as I want.

Although if Blue tries to do those exercises he does with Edge I will fucking blast him to pieces.

sep 3rd, 7 atf

…I have to move to the barn.

I am nearing my heat, and I almost went after Black’s Pet.

I held myself back before I did anything, with the help of Puzzle distracting me with his talk about food.

The girl is a sweet one, giving Black the peace he needed from that Hell Underground we both have lived through.

I may be a asshole, but I would never hurt his beloved little Pet willingly. Not even I would go so far.

Luckily she sees me like the perverted, teasing other master, and I will make sure that is how she will remember the non feral me.

If you ever read this girlie, know that what I do as a Feral is not the real me. I would never hurt family by my own will.

sep 9th, 7 atf

This will be my last entry in this journal.

I have chosen my pen and renovated it to my liking.

I took the one between my bro and Skull, because I have to be close to my bro, and I don’t mind Skull.

There is splotches of tears on this page.)I will never admit it, but I am scared of losing myself. What if that vanilla bastard never finds a cure? What if he gives up? What if I hurt anyone? What if I dust myself, or my own brother?

I hope when I return from my “vacation”, it won’t be too far in the future. One of the few perks being a Boss monster, not aging until we die.

Red out, going on vacation.

#Exerpt from my RP #The Ranch #I have sucky naming Sense #Dot Writes Short Snippets #The Journals #Undertale #Sans #Red #underfell sans #Underfell Papyrus #How do I even post on this hellsite

106 notes · View notes

dancingstarsbornfromchaos · 3 years

Text

Some random background story headcanons I have for Evil Rick, since there’s really not enough content about his character! (And since I was encouraged to share by a lovely person)

As a young kid, Rick showed all the signs what psychiatry would later label as a Conduct Disorder (which in teenagers is called Antisocial Personality Disorder): complete disregard for social norms, delinquent behaviour (mostly in the form of skipping school, stealing and destruction of property), lack of empathy, cruelty towards animals, intimidating behaviours, open aggression. So, he was damaged goods since the very start, capable of, and very willing to, destroying and twisting everything he touched.

Being as smart as he was just made it worse. He quickly learnt how not to get caught, how to act behind others’ back, how to make sure that he could get away with it, even when everyone was aware of the kind of little monster he was. But no proof, no crime, right?

He even sent several of his classmates to the hospital through his elementary and middle school years, leaving some of them deeply traumatised in the aftermath and a couple physically impaired.

His family never did anything about it. The Sanchez struggled with money and Rick’s mother was far too busy working her three job’s to care for her son...a son she hadn’t wanted to have to start with. As for his father, the man was half an alcoholic and half a criminal and, while absent in his son’s life, he was around more and the only figure Rick could learn something from. And what he learnt was that when you wanted something, the quickest way to go around the issue was to take it, rules and consent be damned.

While his parents never physically abused him, Rick grew up in a state of complete neglect (emotional, but also material), having to fend for himself since an age when he should have been too young to even just be alone in the house.

At every new school he was sent to, he attracted the attention of the local bullies, but it never lasted. Eventually, something really nasty happened to them and everyone learnt to keep their distances, kids and adults alike.

School still felt like a waste of time to him, so he chose to focus on teaching himself what he needed and wanted to learn. And that was were most of his efforts went. While he never felt the need for a connection with other people, unless it involved causing them pain or gaining something out of it, science was the one thing that made him feel more than just anger, frustration, boredom or the need to break everything around him. Where he usually lived following a primal urge for destruction, it gave him a chance to experience what it was like to create.

He left home at 16, and his family never even thought of looking for him. He made money through his inventions and crime, usually never getting fully involved and preferring to stand aside and watch the chaos his schemes and twisted games led to.

Soon, however, all that was no longer enough. Everything he did got dull faster and faster and Earth started to feel like a prison, which lead him to work obsessively on finding a way to leave that ball of dirt behind.

Diane was a convenient opportunity. She was good-looking in a way that society approved, she was easy to fall for his lone wolf act and her will too see good even where there was none made her easy to manipulate. And, more importantly, she had enough normalcy to hide away Rick’s abnormalities too. He never loved her, nor the daughter they had together. He just got her pregnant so he could marry her and use her as a walking hideout while he kept on pursuing his own interests in peace.

The very same day he finished to build his space ship, Rick packed his stuff and left in the middle of the day, while Diane was off to pick up a 5-years-old Beth out of school. He didn’t leave a note, never looked back. And forgot about them both pretty quickly too.

In that bloodied, lawless mess that space turned to be, Rick truly thrived for the first time in his life. He turned himself into a mercenary, working for whoever managed to pique his interest the most and for whoever offered him the best chance to get creative with his work. The Federation was hardly the only one to suffer from his games and whims. Some came to say that Rick Sanchez destroyed civilizations for breakfast, if he woke up in that kind of mood. Or if he had a bit too much to drink the night before.

He met the Squanchy and the Birdperson of his dimensions, but they never became friends. They were just people he had dealt with while he sold weapons to the Rebellion, two faces who stood up just a little more in a sea of a thousands more.

Of course, his lifestyle and disregard for the consequences earned him an endless list of enemy. He was hunted down and captured, tortured in all the conceivable ways. He was almost killed several times, violated in the body and the mind alike. He lost counts of all the substances that were put and that he willingly put into his body, which by now was synthetic and part machine than human. Yet, he always came out on top, covered in blood and with that insane, terrifying tingle in his eyes shining just a bit brighter each time.

Meeting other Ricks and learning about interdimensional traveling marked a new turn in his life. He moved through different realities, took a vague interest in studying the differences in the course or history (and eventually found most of them pathetic and unworthy of his time). He even spent a couple of years living on the Citadel, hidden away in its darkest corners, always under the radar.

One thing stuck with him of all his experiences among his other selves, the same thing that eventually pushed him travel back to his own Earth, something he had never even just considered doing after having left it behind for good. The boy.

Showing up at his estranged daughter’s door, Rick quickly learnt two things: one, he wasn’t welcome but they let him stay anyway because he was bringing resources they didn’t have and, especially, because Beth was smart enough to figure that there was no denying him; secondly, his daughter’s family was no different from the one he had grown up with. A house full of indifference and neglect, where the kids were left to their own devices, no matter the consequences.

His 10-years-old Morty turned out to be nothing like Rick had been as a child. He was weak, easily scared, too full of stupid hopes and dreams, craving to be nurtured and given the affection that none of the people around him was willing to offer. He was pathetic, even, a crying, shivering mess. And yet, Rick didn’t miss it, the spark of strong willpower and stubbornness that would have allowed the kid to thrive just as Rick himself had done, if properly cultivated.

Useless to say, Rick didn’t hesitate to completely take over Morty’s life. It wasn’t like there was anyone to stop him or to worry or give a damn anyway. He planned on breaking the kid into pieces, literally and figuratively, over and over and over, using his own horrifying experiences as a guide. He would have forced him to accept that there was nothing in his life, in his universe but Rick. Then he would have put him back together, shaped him and molded him into something as resilient as Rick’s own wrecked life had made him. A sharp tool, a deadly weapon, a helpful sidekick. And, perhaps, one day, a partner. Because, whether or not he was willing to admit it, Morty was the first and only person Rick was ever able and ever wished to truly connect with.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #evil rick #rnm headcanons #ram headcanons #rick and morty headcanons #[ he and Evil Morty are my second fave duo ]#[ I wish there was more content about them ]

56 notes · View notes

animeyanderelover · 3 years

Note

R!Ciel and O!Ciel fighting for childhood female darling (Do you think they could share?)

Here again, please keep in mind that I’m not completely finished with the manga yet.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, manipulation, paranoia, threatening, blackmailing, bribing, controlling behavior, sabotage, kidnapping

R!Ciel and O!Ciel fighting over their childhood friend

☕️🍵I don't think they would be able to share, at least not with both of the twins agreeing willingly or even reluctantly. Ciel thinks that he has the right to be the heir of the Phantomhive manor since he fulfilled all the duties of one the last four years whilst his brother wasn't there. He was clearly enraged due to the inauspicious return of his older brother and declared war to him by dismantling one of the blood factories which "Ciel" needs to function. He is exceedingly competitive and doesn't stop fighting until a victor is declared. It's the same with fighting over the same darling

☕🍵"Ciel" on the other hand desires a rivalry between his brother and was somewhat excited when finding out about the blood factory. On the other hand he seems to have an obsession over his little brother and it probably intensified after after he became a Bizarre Doll. Such creatures run on their past dreams and "Ciel's" past dream used to be with his little brother and the darling. So his obsession became stronger too, for both the darling and Ciel. He still wants to be with his brother, but after he nearly died and was saved from Undertaker, he became so much more willing to cause his little brother great troubles. I can see him planning to win against his brother, for the position of the heir of the Phantomhive and the darling, and afterwards get his hands on his brother as well and controlling and keeping them both for himself. Despite all he does still care for his brother, in a twisted sense, but it's there! He would still not be above taunting his brother if he should win.

☕🍵Even when all of you were younger, "Ciel" was already very possessive of the both of you. He was most likely more lenient with letting his brother spent time with you since Ciel suffered from asthma and for that couldn't leave the house for a longer time until it slowly got better and he was able to leave the house more often too. "Ciel" wanted to protect you even back then, together with his brother you were very important to him. I do not doubt that he might have liked you even back then, just like his younger brother did. Back then Ciel had a bit more of an advantage, most likely because he wasn't engaged to Lizzy. So the small boy sometimes talked that he wanted to marry you later on since you were together with his older brother one of the very few people who he was able to play and spent time with. He shared maybe the dream of opening a toy store in England together with you.

☕🍵"Ciel" was jealous because of this all, because his little brother and the girl he liked didn't have to be forced into the things he had to do. His partne had already been chosen, his life was already decided. He cared for his brother and knew that Ciel liked you, but he got jealous nevertheless and it might have led him to pleading his father if he could eventually not be the fiancé of Elizabeth, but with you. He had this dream of marrying you, just like his brother had. His parents most likely knew about his and Ciel's love of you and it worried them a bit. But separating you from the twins was a bad idea. "Ciel" would express his frustration an his anger and Ciel would be saddened and in a bad mood with his older brother reassuring him that you'll come back to them.

☕🍵But "Ciel" was from a very early age on just so much more charming than his younger brother was. He was more open, more playful, more fun to be with and could do much more with you than his brother could. It made Ciel worry a lot, knowing that due to his sickness he couldn't do all the things his brother could do. Due to that he always clinged somewhat onto you whenever you were with him. He was insecure, knowing that his brother was more of a fitting partner you might later on desire than him and due to that like him better later on that him.

☕🍵After "Ciel" died, his brother took his identity and the name of the Earl of Phantomhive. He had become a more cold and cruel individual. He had lost his brother and went through a terrifying experience which made him much more possessive over his childhood friend. He most likely managed to break off the engagement, using Sebastian as a way to set up rumors which led to the Midford's and him ending the engagement. He would be very smart about it just like his brother would be, though he would be more colder about it. I think since you knew them since childhood, you might realize that this isn't the real Ciel, but his little brother. And Ciel himself wouldn't want to keep this a secret for too long either. He had to go as a child through the fear of the darling potentially ending up liking "Ciel" more than him and whilst he didn't plan on his brother to die, he takes this advantage to make the darling his.

☕🍵He most likely kidnapped his darling so she wouldn't tell anyone about his real identity and locked her just up in his house with Sebastian and the servants making sure she doesn't escape. The servanta have unswaying loyalty towards their master so they wouldn't really believe you whenever you tell them that this isn't the real Ciel. You're somewhat stuck with Ciel having the upper hand.

☕🍵So the sudden appearance of "Ciel" ruined his plans and if it wouldn't have been for Lau and Ran Mao helping him escape, he would have ended up in a lot more troubles. "Ciel" would be for now the one who has a hold on his darling since she would be really thankful for his appearance since Ciel kept her isolated all for himself and it is also good to finally have the truth spilled out. Whilst "Ciel" isn't necessarily angry with his younger brother taking his identity, he is mad that Ciel treated you the way he did, abusing you directly mentally and being harsh with you. This isn't "Ciel's" style. I don't say he's any better, he is actually the more terrible one. But he is just so much more sly and charming about his way of manipulation and after years of being kept from the world, and since Ciel isn't the best in showing affection and his feelings too openly, the darling is just starved for more human feelings which "Ciel" uses to his advantage.

☕🍵He brings his darling into staying isolated anyways, whatever love he held beforehand for her became twisted and enhanced due to his transformation into a Bizarre Doll, though he doesn't tell his darling from this so she doesn't feel freaked out or scared. But he does uses his sudden physical dysfunction and weakness to guilt-trip her into staying with him. He was for years away and went through too much so it would be no wonder in her mind that he himself is love starved as well. He would be so much smarter about the engagement and use Elizabeth's confused feelings to break off the engagement again, but this time officially since the previous break up wasn't real due to his brother playing his role.

☕🍵He would quickly progress into courting his darling and making her his fiancée. He would just end up confessing his love after just spending time with her and given the circumstances, she might not have the heart to reject him and there is probably also the thought in her mind that this is "Ciel", the charming and caring boy. Nothing like his brother. That's what he is counting on, but in reality he is so much more fearful and terrible than his brother, instead of threatening and blackmailing, he relies more on gaslighting and effective guilt-tripping. He makes you paranoid of the world without you even knowing and you have to attend to him anyways more due to his weakened body.

☕🍵Currently Ciel is in a worse position, mostly because he doesn't have you. He is of now seen as a criminal, but at the very least is not alone. He has all his servants, Ran Mao, Lau and Sebastian by his side. He knows that his brother wants a fight, over power just as much as you and Ciel doesn't back exactly off from this. He's frustrated with the current situation and wants to turn the tables around. He knows "Ciel" can only function as long as he has plenty of fresh blood since his body needs it to function. So he plans on starting with cutting off all the places where he gets that blood from to beat him once and for all.

#yandere black butler #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere ciel #yandere ciel phantomhive #yandere real ciel

156 notes · View notes

messers-moony · 3 years

Text

Comics 2 | A.G

Paring: Aidan Gallagher X Fem!Reader

Summary: Aidan meets an unusually pretty girl at a library while trying to find a textbook for school

Warnings: Cursing

Years later, Aidan and Y/n were now twenty-five. All these years and Aidan hadn’t seen her since he gifted her the comic book when they were just twenty. All these years later and he still loved her.

He left a bookmark in there on purpose, one with his number, but yet, she never called. It made his mind wander. Why wasn’t she calling? Maybe she wasn’t fond of calling, but even then, she never texted either.

A certain feeling of defeat lingered in his heart. Maybe she didn’t like him like that. Her words were stuck in his mind; they lagged in his head like a broken record every time he was to fall asleep.

“ Y/n L/n. Remember it. “

Why was he to remember it? She was a comic book artist, for Christ's sake, not an upcoming actress. As far as he knew, there would never be a significance to her name. A new Netflix show was in the making, another one based on comic books.

Of course, Aidan got the call. The call was a producer begging him to audition for the leading role. He would be perfect for this role, swore the producer. Aidan was hesitant but did it anyway.

Aidan wasn’t the only one in the audition room, of course, but he was only here because of the pleading the producer did. He auditioned, and that was that. Within a week's notice, they would notify him.

On his way home, he stopped by a library, the very same library he met the girl at. Sighing, he walked to the comic book section and picked up the series of comics. There were five in the series, and he bought all of them.

He walked home with a backpack filled with his belongings and now new comic books. Walking into his apartment, he unzipped his bag and took out the first comic. The male ignored who wrote and illustrated it. It didn’t really matter. Did it?

The brunette read through the first comic and was hooked almost immediately. He read through them relatively quickly, and when he finished, he was agitated. The books were completed on a cliffhanger, only leading him to assume there had to be a sixth book soon.

Three days went by, and Aidan couldn’t help but reread the comic books for a more thorough analysis. The more he read, the more he saw how similar he and the main character was.

Everything down to the hair, the dimples, the smile, and the eyes were the exact same. The mannerisms being almost identical scared him. But he realized why the producer begged him for this role. He wasn’t exaggerating when he said Aidan was the perfect candidate for it.

He finished the series a second time and stared at the cover. That’s when he realized it and then began to scold himself for how dense he could possibly be.

“ Written and Illustrated by Y/n L/n “

We’re the words written across the top of the book. That’s why the main character was so similar to him, because the girl who wrote it knew who he was. She was observant, hella observant.

Within a week's notice, as promised, Aidan got a call saying he got the role and they would fly him to New York to begin filming. He’d be leaving in a month, probably the least amount of notice he’s been given before filming a show.

Nonetheless, the month went by faster than you could blink, and he was on a plane to New York. The set was much bigger than he imagined and made his way to the producers.

“ Aidan, you came! How wonderful! “ The producer from the phone exclaimed happily, “ My names Alex. I’m so ecstatic you came. “

Alex put his hand out to shake, which Aidan accepted politely, “ I assume you’ve read the comics by now? “ A familiar voice queried.

“ I have, actually. “ Aidan replied, turning around to be met with the dyed-haired female, “ I told you, remembering my name would come in handy. “ Y/n winked.

Aidan snickered, “ Why make your main character almost exactly like me? “ Aidan questioned, fully serious, “ Because Gallagher, you’re intriguing. You also seem to attract the best audience. Not to mention you always put on a show. “ Y/n said with prominent confidence.

The way his last name rolled off her tongue almost made him faint. He adored her and wanted her to be his. Now that she was here, he’d do anything in his power to make her his.

“ So you’re using me to make your show popular? “ The male joked, “ No, don’t take it the wrong way. I used you because you’re hardworking, and you put everything into your role. You, my love, are perfect for this role. “ Y/n responded, and Aidan’s cheeks flushed at the pet name.

“ Now, I must be going. However, I will see you on set tomorrow, I presume? “ She questioned with a soft smile, “ Yeah. Definitely. “ Aidan breathed as she left.

A hand was laid upon his shoulder, “ You are completely head over heels for her, huh? “ A male voice spoke in his ear, making him jump, “ Jesus Christ Robert, where did you come from? Why are you here? “ Aidan heaved as his hand was on his heart.

“ I’ve actually earned myself a role as well as Elliot Page. I’ve never seen you so entranced. “ Robert commented, “ She's been stuck in my head for years. “ Aidan murmured.

Robert had a face of curiosity, “ We met like five years ago at a library, and I talked to her for only two hours, but by then, she had me completely wrapped around her finger. “ Aidan explained, and Robert raised an eyebrow, “ She moved the next week, and I hadn’t seen her since. “

“ Well. Better make your move soon. I’ve seen guys eyeing her up all day. “ Robert replied as he walked off.

Months later, Y/n was right. Aidan was absolutely perfect for the role without even trying. Granted, the character was practically him, but he excelled in making the role his own.

Y/n and Aidan had gotten quite close throughout those months. They seemed pretty fond of each other. She was confident, intelligent, and caring. He was thoughtful, kind, and sweet. The pair made a loving match.

However, the girl's heart was guarded, she had been let down so many times, and she didn’t want to ruin the friendship she had acquired with the famous male. Aidan, in his free time, had been working on an EP. The title and main song on it was held close to his heart.

After a couple of dates and a lot of convincing, she gave in. Aidan Gallagher had now achieved the girl of his dreams, Y/n L/n. She was everything he wanted and so much more. He was captivated by her and made sure he showed the world.

Every chance he got, he posted her everywhere. His fans absolutely adored her, possibly even more than he did. Saturday lives his fans spent begging to see the admirable female when she wasn’t present. It honestly made Aidan quite jealous.

Regardless it made Aidan’s heart feel unbelievably full that both he and his fans loved her as much as he desired. Mornings were spent holding each other with subtle morning kisses. Nights were spent eating take-out and playing the original Mario kart after many arguments that it was better than the newer versions.

Filming was almost complete, and Aidan’s stay in New York was coming to a very prominent close. A day neither lover was looking forward to. His home was in Los Angeles, and hers was in New York. There was no changing that.

“ Do you really have to go? “ Questioned the teary-eyed female, “ Unfortunately. “ Aidan sighed.

They both stood in JFK Airport as close as they could before having to depart. Aidan’s hands held her tear-stained cheeks, and she moved stray strands of hair from his forehead.

“ I promise, I will come back for you. “ Aidan pledged to, and she sniffled, nodding, “ I’ll move in with you if you want. “

Y/n looked up slightly guilty, “ I don’t want to be the reason you leave your hometown. You grew up there. Your entire family is there. I would feel awful taking you away from them. “ She admitted, “ I would be living here willingly. Plus, there’s more opportunities acting-wise here, believe it or not. Hollywood isn’t all it’s made out to be. The United Nations is also home to New York. It’d be closer to everything. “ Aidan explained.

“ If- If that’s what you want, then I wouldn’t hesitate. “ Y/n smiled softly.

Aidan pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, “ Then this isn’t really goodbye, is it? “ Aidan’s whisper left a hot breath lingering on her lips, “ No, it isn’t. “ Y/n replied.

“ Stop your crying then. I hate seeing you cry. I will come back. “ He muttered softly, wiping her tears and kissing her forehead, “ I love you. “

“ I love you too. Be safe, please. Text me when you get on and when you land, okay? “ She requested, “ Always. “ Aidan simpered.

Gently he let her go and walked away with a tiny wave. Now there were only two things left to do. Pack up all of his stuff and play one last show in Los Angeles before leaving his home.

The male pack quickly when he arrived home, way too excited to live with his new partner. His show was scheduled for that night. Tonight he’d be playing his brand new song, the main song on his latest EP, the one he held close to his heart.

Nerves ran through his body like no tomorrow as he stepped up on stage. Screams were heard throughout the entire venue, making him smile brightly.

“ Hello everyone. “ Aidan greeted, getting screams in response, “ As you all may know, I will not be living in LA for much longer. New York seems more like home now than it’s ever seemed, so after this show, I’ll be getting on a plane to my new home. “

“ While I’ll play your favorite’s such as songs like Blue Neon and Fourth of July, there’s a new song at the end I’d love for your feedback on. I hold this song very close to my heart, and I hope you all will as well. So let’s get this started. “ Aidan informed with a gleeful smile present on his lips.

Aidan began strumming the guitar and singing the all too familiar lyrics. Applause was given in between each song, only encouraging his love for music as he continued to sing— his fans sung along with him giving Aidan a sense of love and commitment.

Finally, the last song was due to play, “ I call this last one, Comics. “

#aidan gallagher x reader #aidan gallagher #aidan gallagher imagine #Aidan Gallagher x y/n #Aidan Gallagher x you #five hargreeves #number five #number five x reader

123 notes · View notes

pupandangelscoffee · 3 years

Text

Thank you, Next

Eddie x Reader / Buck x Reader

Genre: Fluff, slight angst

Warnings: mentions of blood, the fire truck crash from season 2, basically injury, creepy perverts, being locked up (small mention of it)

Taglist: @enterprise-medical

It was a stormy night in LA as Buck navigated the firetruck back to the fire station. He had taken it out for a ride, with Bobby’s permission, after you had called his sister saying you were stuck in some creep’s apartment. Maddie had befriended you after you opened your café again despite usually closing half an hour ago. So Buck didn’t really expect that you would look so cute while cuddled up in his jacket, something he normally wouldn’t give it away, but you seemed so helpless and like you were freezing in just your underwear. Besides, he promised his sister that he would take care of you as he brought you back to the station, where she was going to pick you up.

Jumping out of the door, Buck closed the door as quietly as possible before shushing everyone in the firehouse and only getting your sleeping form out of the truck after everyone quieted down. Maddie watched as her baby brother carried her sleeping friend up the stairs, trying not to smile or squeal at how cute the scene was. She had tried to convince you repeatedly to go on a date with her brother, though you would always decline stating that hot firefighting fuckboys simply weren’t your type. But apparently “I-am-cute-lemme-lock-you-in-my-room” was your type or well at least seemed to be your type because this was not the first date that went horribly wrong that Maddie witnessed you having, usually having to find some way to bail you out. Although, it has never gotten this bad.

“Earth to Maddie,” Buck grumbled, waving his hand in front of Maddie’s face as he tried to get her to come back to them instead of being lost in her own little world. Shaking her head to regain her vision, she chuckled as you sat up to wave at her. “Looks like sleeping beauty is awake and waiting for their prince charming,” she teased you and wiggled her eyebrows while glancing in Buck’s direction, earning a groan and the bird from you. “I am never ever going to go on a date with anyone again. Nunca!!” You grumbled, hiding your face in a pillow as you did kind of feel bad for making someone steal a firetruck just because you were incapable of reading a person. “Qué pena.” Eddie stated, walking past you and sending you a wink when you look up in shock. “Habla Español?” You asked, not having expected it. “Sí.” Eddie nodded and send you a cheekish grin before handing you a bottle of water. “Do you feel a bit better? You seemed quite out of it when you arrived with Buck.” He continued, immediately checking your vitals and reactions to make sure that you were actually doing alright. “You get locked in an apartment by a creepy guy in his 40s and then tell me you wouldn’t be out of it.” You retorted, sticking your tongue out at Eddie causing him to poke your sides to see if you were ticklish. Squeaking, you jumped up and tried to run away from the firefighter, not wanting to get tickled. However, Eddie’s reflexes were a lot quicker than yours and he immediately started chasing you, quickly managing to catch you and pick you up.

The rest of the Firefam, including Maddie, just stood there watching you and Eddie. When Buck had brought you in, they had agreed that you seemed more of Buck’s type than Eddie’s as the older of the two was known to be the more serious one of the two. Yet somehow you managed to light him up in a completely new way, something they had never seen before and slowly they changed their minds on who’s type you really were. Even if Buck did not look pleased while watching you two, after all, he had “stolen” a firetruck and almost broken a window just to save you from some creep, yet instead of thanking him properly, you were playing and laughing with Eddie. “They are really cute together,” Hen stated, a smile playing on her lips though quickly putting on a stoic facial expression upon seeing Buck’s glare. “Well they are, though I still think she would suit you better, Buck.” Maddie whispered to her brother before ruffling his hair.

A few months have passed since you had met Eddie and to say that you two have gotten close would be an understatement. You had actually shared his bed with him on multiple occasions now after a long day with him and his son Chris, who you immediately adored after meeting the first time. At first, it took some time for Chris to warm up to you, however, now he seemed to always be attached to your hip whenever you were around. Sometimes, Buck would hang out with you three, though he would have a bitter expression on his face whenever no one was looking.

Right now, you were sitting on the couch in the firehouse when the news hit that the firetruck was crushing Buck’s leg and your heart froze watching the pained expression on Buck’s face. You tried to see as much as possible of the scene, scared that any of the other members of the firefam were injured but the camera simply did not have a good view. So without another thought, you grabbed your car keys and raced to the scene, terrified for Buck’s and the other’s fate.

When you arrived at the scene, they would not let you close as there was still a bomb threat. As soon as Bobby took care of the threat, a frown on your lips as you watched the young man who felt like he had lost everything, and the crowd ran to help lift the truck, you ran with it. However, instead of moving to lift the truck, you dropped on your knees right in front, cradling his face in your hands. “Hey beautiful, come here often?” Buck asked you, a small grin on his lips as you giggled, shaking your head a bit at the young firefighter. Always such a flirt, even in a situation where he could lose his leg and possibly never work in the job he loved ever again.

All throughout Buck’s recovery you stuck to his side, cooking him meals, and coming to all of his doctor meetings with him. You would be lying if you said that you two didn’t grow closer during that period of his life, even sharing a drunken kiss. He had initiated it after one too many beers and you just melted into it, not wanting to upset the already broken firefighter. Yet at the same time, it certainly had been one of the best kisses you have shared with someone. And you could now proudly say that your gaming skills have improved, while Buck’s baking skills improved as well, due to you dragging him along to your little café and allowing him to bake as many goods as you wanted. You even ate them willingly once they stopped coming out of the oven looking like a piece of charcoal.

Soon enough, he was cleared to go back to working as a firefighter and despite feeling slightly upset that you would no longer be spending your days with the sweet, smart and cunning young firefighter, you were happy to see the light return to his eyes. But then the party happened, he coughed up blood, because he was pushing himself too harshly and you had to watch the light fade again. After Bobby told him that he was clearly not ready to be in the field yet, you stood by Buck’s side as rage took over his whole being and he decided to sue the city and Bobby, leaving you to be stuck between a hard place and a rock.

Now you were standing in front of Buck and Eddie after they had a big fight and they were expecting to choose. Will you choose Buck and stick by him as he destroys all his relationships for his job? Or will you choose Eddie and leave Buck to fight this battle all alone?

BUCK

EDDIE

SURPRISE

#911 fanfiction #9 1 1 fanfic #911 fanfic #9 1 1 x reader #9 1 1 fanfiction #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz imagine #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley imagine

161 notes · View notes

yuzukult · 3 years

Text

i’m bad too 06 (m) || kdy & reader

title: i’m bad too - drabble series pairing: kim doyoung x reader genre: angst, fluff, smut, goodboy!doyoung, nerdy!dy (basically he’s a dork) & badgirl!reader, hitman!au, oc-isn’t-a-hitman-but-she-could-be!au, there’s just a lot of unspoken things happening here lol word count: 1.7k warnings: blowjob/handjob (lucky doyoung), sexual usage of ‘oppa’ lol don’t judge a/n: still tryna learn the correct jargon for warnings but this is a drabble so.... very minimal stuff here lmfao

please let me know if anyone wants to be tagged! taglist: @wownajaemin @crescent-iak @ncttboo @byunbaekby ← previous chapter || next chapter →

Doyoung makes you watch an obscene amount of superhero movies. For clarification: Marvel-Cinematic-Universe-kind-of-movies. However, you barely complain. If it means more time with him, you’d even watch Sesame Street just to be in his arms.

He doesn’t like to watch those movies where there’s a way deeper message hidden behind the plot. He lives for the action, sprinkle of comedy, and occasional love interest. But not a ton. Too much romance might set unrealistic expectations, according to him.

Albeit you sort of think he still has a vastly different depiction of love in comparison to you.

For one, in this alternate universe where there’s villains and superheroes, you, without a doubt, are a villain. You’ve tried explaining to him that you fit the stereotype—the whole leather attire plus motorcycle really takes the cake, but he doesn’t even know what you’re up to half the time. In fact, almost every single event you’ve performed a task, you’d show up at his front doorstep, hands remaining dirty from a mission for the Boss, and he’d welcome you with open arms with no idea.

Doyoung doesn’t even have an ounce of a clue what you do.

He’s such a nice guy. Girls practically eat that shit up when they meet him, often overlooking the fact that he holds so many great boyfriend qualities. When you’re sore from “work,” (he questions what you do all the time but you just shrug nonchalantly) he’d always slip off your socks, massage the soles of your feet and finish off the rest of your body with no resistance. He doesn’t expect anything in return—not even sex. Doyoung just gives and gives, nearly never taking.

On one side, you’re glad that most women don’t recognize how perfect of a significant other he is. It gives you time to figure yourself out; how do you become good enough for Kim Doyoung? You’ve already dropped smoking. You’ve been putting more effort in your studies, granted he is your tutor. And you’ve spent the majority of your free time with him. If you ever needed to review material, you’d do it with him, just to show how much you’re trying.

Even if there isn’t a label for the two of you.

You’re friends—but you’re definitely more than just friends. You fuck, but you’re not just fuck buddies either. You’re exclusive but you’re not straightforwardly dating. Doyoung doesn’t hide the fact that he wants you to officially be his girlfriend, although he never forces the idea upon you. He’s content with the circumstances he’s under even though he hopes to have you be his and his only. Nonetheless, it’s under your terms and he never forgets to remind you that.

Honestly, you thought that you might be okay with this. That is, until a pretty gal with shiny black hair, toned body, and gentle voice named Joy came into the picture.

Joy is a given nickname. Her actual birth name is Park Sooyoung, a name as beautiful as the beholder, but people had gotten into the habit of calling her Joy, since… well, she’s such a joy to be around. She’s part of the school’s cheerleading squad, called the ‘Red Velvet Queens,’ plus extremely involved with other extracurriculars, including the competitive tennis team that Doyoung is on. There’s a lot of bitches on the squad, especially with the encounters you’ve had with them, but Joy isn’t one of them. She’s an angel. She’s the woman version of Doyoung.

Doyoung likes to wait outside in the parking lot, right in the unspoken designated spot where you leave your bike. You’ve offered him a ride to school since he often stands idly, except he politely declines, and you speculate that it’s from fear. He remains cute in your eyes despite being a bit of a wuss.

Today, however, he’s not alone. It’s a daily routine that the view of Doyoung leaves you breathless, heart pumping like you’ve gone running, but today is different. Your blood is boiling, smoke whistling out your ears like a kettle on a stove from the heat that lingers around your neck region. Joy stands beside him, the widest grin smacked across her cheeks, lips stained as red as her cheerleading uniform. You wobble on your bike into the parking spot, shutting off the engine before kicking out the stand, pulling the helmet off your head while obnoxiously chewing on a piece of gum in your mouth.

Joy’s gaze meets yours.

She’s sweet, and none of this is her fault. But you kind of hate her presence right now, just because she’s got all of Doyoung’s attention.

Spitting out the gum on the asphalt, you shuffle through your pockets for a toothpick. This stupid toothpick that you’re stuck with because you quit smoking cigarettes for that charming boy. Popping the wooden stick in your mouth, you rake your fingers through your greasy hair, slinging the backpack over your shoulders before walking past Doyoung.

“Sorry, Joy, I’ll catch up with you later,” You hear faintly before his heavy footsteps are rushed, catching up with yours. “Hey-Hey! Where are you going? We’re supposed to meet here. Why didn’t you wait for me?”

You shrug. He’s not happy with that response.

Hand grasping on your shoulder, he halts you in your steps to turn you to face him. As much as you hate to admit it, but you feel this green-eyed monster gnawing on your insides and you’re not a fan of it. “What’s wrong? What did I do? Talk to me.”

“Nothing. I’m busy. You still wanna tutor me later or are you busy making plans with Joy?” You snarl, munching on the pick. Doyoung’s eyes lighten up; he knows the problem now. “Are you jealous?”

“That word isn’t in my dictionary.” It’s a blunt reply, and your unfazed stare is there to support it. “Why would I be jealous of a nice girl like Joy who wants to get with a good boy like you?”

Doyoung likes you, no matter how hard you try to push him away. Your dilemma before was that you always thought a guy like him, so generous, so kind, could never love someone with a charred heart like yours. And yet, here you are, evidently jealous of a girl practically his equal when he’s done nothing but proven to you that you’re the only one he sees.

You want more, and the longer you continue to deny and swallow these feelings, you’re even more desperate to be held by him. In the midst of a tutoring session, you’ve managed to unbutton his cute sky blue dress shirt, unzip his trousers and suddenly his dick is in your mouth.

“We’re supposed to review l-limits,” He stutters over a moan, fingers reaching to comb back your hair. “S-So I told her I couldn’t hang out with her today.”

“Mm,” You hum against the tip, tongue gliding down his shaft. “I heard you the first time.” His thighs tighten when your mouth envelopes down his dick to the base with his head thrown back in the chair of your bedroom. He’s glad that he noticed you take initiative to lock the door today since you often don’t, and the possibility of one of the staff members entering in while sucking on him is kinky but he’s still scared of your brother.

Doyoung lets out a soft gasp when your tongue swipes over his slit where a pearly bead of precum sits. “S-Shouldn’t we— oh fuck—be reviewing materi—ohh?” He sighs; your hands are everywhere; it’s hard for him to focus on anything when you’re gazing up at him through your pretty long lashes with tinged pink cheeks from his cock hitting the back of your throat. He melts under your touch when you graze over his thighs, claiming the territory that he’s succumbed to you willingly. You kiss the head of his cock and he bucks into it. “We’re reviewing a different kind of material. Have you ever been sucked off by a girl before?”

He shakes his head ‘no’, looking down at you with hooded eyes. With his arousal still in your grip, it twitches, yearning for your attention. You hate to admit it, but you’ve obviously tainted his ‘good boy’ persona with him in your bedroom like this, but Doyoung doesn’t think that. Disheveled hair, mouth gaped open, and sweaty forehead is a view of him you engrain in your memory.

Doyoung is a good boy, but he has a body of a bad boy. There’s no way that tennis is the reason behind those washboard abs, toned thighs, and built arms. He’s not as muscular in comparison to Johnny, nor his friend Lucas, but Doyoung is gorgeous like this, perfect in your eyes.

That’s why when you moan around his girth and he sputters, you think he’s got a halo over his head. He’s so pretty, so gorgeous, and you want to see him in all types of forms. Your hand wraps at the base of his dick, mouth wrapping around the red and angry tip, it’s glistening with your saliva as you start pumping him at a pace that leaves his jaw slack, groans bouncing off your bedroom walls.

“Baby,” He calls out the term of endearment raspily, heart racing and abs tightening. A familiar feeling stirs in his stomach, and he knows he’s about to combust. “I’m about to cum, I need a tissue, I—”

“Cum in my mouth, oppa,” You whisper, quickening your movements but calling him “oppa” is what snaps within him, ropes of cum shooting down your throat along with a string of curses and a breathy moan escapes from his lovely lips.

“So,” Doyoung begins, fiddling with his fingers anxiously across the lunch table from you. “You called me ‘oppa’ the other day. That was uh… new. You’ve never called me that before.”

Tying your hair up in a bun with a bobby pin between your teeth, his cheeks flush pink at the thought of you giving him a blowjob in your bedroom the other day, his fingers streaking through those luscious locks, and him cuming in your mouth. Popping out the pin, you slide in to push back a short piece of hair. “Yeah, well, there was a reason for it. You know why.”

Doyoung blinks blankly, utterly confused. “I… don’t. W-Why’d you call me oppa?”

“So you wouldn’t get nervous and just let me swallow.”

#neosmutcollective #doyoung smut #doyoung x reader #nct smut #doyoung #nct 127 #nct u #gyukultfics

129 notes · View notes

ragnarachael · 4 years

Note

57, 60 and 72?

i’m going to assume you’re letting me pick the character, and so i’ve decided on tva director!reader x loki from my series “the valiant arsonist”! you can check out/read from HERE!

LOKI TAGLIST: @shiningloki, @bellesque, @myraiswack, @kidney9-9, @deansblackbeauty (if you’d like to be added, just ask!!)

now if it wasn’t obvious: the text after the read more starts out somewhat PG, but progressively gets NSFW! as usual, don’t wanna see it from me, block the NSFT TEXT tag! just a warning, i... i got far too dirty i think. i don’t know how i did it. but i did. this is kinda not proofread, i’m far too tired for that. any mistakes or weirdly written scenes are on me!! i didn’t read this one four or five times to perfect it like everything else. (this is almost 4k. good christ.)

MASTERLIST ! FEEDBACK ! AO3 LINK !

THE VALIANT ARSONIST — ANGER

You and Loki were fighting. It’s plain as day to everyone in the offices when they approach the both of you. You were more of the silent, death glare type. Loki was... well. Loki was also the silent type. But, he just snapped at anyone who tried to talk to him and refused to try and cooperate.

It was Thursday. Meeting day not only for you and the board of directors that are working with the TVA, but also meeting day for Mills and Wilson’s team.

Which meant that Loki would be dressed up in his usual attire for those meetings: neat, crisp button down shirt, corresponding tie to the color of his shirt and more often than not followed by some black slacks.

Thursdays were your favorite days. Especially because of those slacks.

But since you were both still stuck in an argument, you found yourself leaving earlier for work like you had for the past week. Though, you did let yourself wear some flattering business casual clothes to try and convince Loki to break this stupid silence streak.

You wore his favorite pencil skirt—a deep emerald green fabric that nearly matched his favorite color if the fabric wasn’t a shade lighter—that was easily paired with your favorite cream colored blouse that accentuated your chest with the v-neckline. He loved the combo before, and you had no doubt he would try and pounce on you in some form.

But he didn’t. When he came in the office, you noticed he did the same thing as you.

He wore a whole black ensemble. Black shirt, black tie, black everything.

“Fuck,” you mumbled to yourself as you watched him walk through the sea of desks in the main area from your own private office. “That asshole.”

He’s trying to one up you at your own game. You don’t know if he’s read your mind or whatever, but god dammit he’s trying to do what you’re doing. You and your husband really are alike.

Most of your day after your mindless meeting was spent in your office, reading through files for research and answering various emails as well as reconvening with your team for your newest time-clause case. It was a full day. You even tried the new coffee someone brought in and actually had a few more cups of that before calling it quits just as everyone was leaving for the day.

“It looks like we’ll just have to send out some more Chronomonitors to give us more information on this situation,” one of your agents sighed in the seat she dragged in front of your desk. “I know none of us would want to go out into that battle field.”

You groaned as your hands flew to rub at your neck, leaning back to slouch in your office chair. “I hate when you’re right, Maddie.”

“I know you do,” she teased, grabbing her bottle of water to take a drink. “That’s why you made me one of your right hands, ‘member?”

You snorted and rolled your head in a slow circle, some of the tension loosening in your neck.

“I do recall. I’ll get on that order form before leaving tonight, Mads. Thank you for the hard work today, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Maddie laughed and gathered the files in her hands as she made sure to take the rest of her belongings that she had around your office. Your hands started to gently rub down your face before you heard the zip of Maddie’s bag.

Then the door opened, and Loki seemed to willingly walk in. His sleeves were folded up neatly to show off his forearms as his hand that wasn’t resting on the doorknob was tucked neatly into his pocket.

“Maddie,” he greeted evenly, his eyes boring into your general direction as you started to slowly straighten in your seat from the sudden visit.

“Uh,” she started slowly, looking between the two of you as you both stared off. “Mr. Laufeyson—”

“Loki, please.” He kept his eyes on you as the tension grew, moving to open the door wider for Maddie to leave. “I’m merely a man visiting his wife. Not a higher-ranking agent.”

“Okay?” Maddie questioned softly before getting her things in her hands and her bag on her back before giving you one last goodbye before Loki was quick to shut the door behind her and lock it.

“We need to talk.”

“Oh,” you started, snorting as you watched Loki gracefully move to shut your blinds even though you’re more than sure you’re the last two in the office. “Now he wants to talk.”

“Don’t start that,” Loki replied, his head turning from the string to fix your blinds.

“You and I haven’t talked in two days,” you huffed. “I’ll start whatever the fuck I want, Loki.”

Loki didn’t wince when he finally shut the blinds. He didn’t even retaliate with his down distaste for what you were both about to start.

The making up process.

He walked over to the chair Maddie had left in front of your desk, his large hands moving to rest on the top of the backrest as his eyes found yours again.

“Maybe if you hadn’t tried to get yourself killed, we wouldn’t be in this situation, would we?” Loki said, his voice having a light tone of smug anger.

“My job is dangerous, Loki. We’ve been over this—”

“You’re a director, darling. Directors just have to sit and give their agents direction,” he explained to you, his voice raising slightly. “They don’t willingly go out into the field and just try to get shot at!”

“I owed it to my team—”

“You could have stayed here! Behind a desk! There is no reason to risk your life!”

“Oh don’t go feeding me that shit,” you seethed, starting to stand from your chair. You wanted to pace, but your feet guided you to stand against the front of your desk as your fingers clasped together tightly. “You get to risk your life and I don’t? That’s the biggest load of garbage I’ve heard, coming from you of all people.”

“That’s different,” Loki rebutted. “I have to go into the field. That is my job. That’s what I’ve done since I’ve been incarcerated at this trash heap.”

“You’re no longer wanted across timelines, Loki.” You crossed your arms over your chest then. “You haven’t been for a year and seven months. And I am aware it’s your job, but haven’t you considered that it’s mine—”

“’To protect and guide your agents by example,’” Loki finished for you as his hands flew from the chair to run through his hair as he took a moment to walk away from where you were now standing. “I’m aware. You’ve said the phrase before.”

“Good. Then you’ll understand when I say that you’re blowing this out of proportions.”

His whole body turned to look at you as his hands fell to his sides. “Pardon me?”

“You heard me.” You kept your face neutral at that sentence. It hurt to say, but you couldn’t show that. “You’re blowing this out of proportion.”

Now, Loki can be terrifying. He certainly was when he made his way from the middle of the room back to you as you leaned against the edge of your desk, not even flinching when his magic sent the chair flying to the wall.

You wished this scared you. But you’ve known this man since he threatened to burn your place of work. You took what he did, hell even said at times, with a grain of salt.

“I am not—”

“Loki,” you hissed, your hands moving from their place on your chest to grab at his black silk tie, wrapping it around your knuckles before yanking his face close to your own. “You are. Admit it.”

“Make me, little girl.”

You couldn’t take the tension and finally just did what your brain had been screaming at you to do while you talked to Loki.

Kiss him.

So, that’s damn well what you did. Your lips slammed into his instantly, tongue slipping past Loki’s slightly parted lips to take the venomous words he was preparing to say away.

The funny part? Loki kissed back.

So much for being mad with each other.

Loki let everything else in his body resist for a moment before he finally just gave in, his hands cupping your sides almost immediately, starting to dominate your mouth with his tongue as you melted at the feeling of your desk digging into your ass through your clothes for the second time this month.

“You’re—” you breathed out between Loki’s assault “—you’re so fucking hot when you’re mad. You know that?”

The hum of a laugh Loki let out at this confession only made the heat between your legs increase, your heart race and your mind buzz from the sudden concern of someone hearing the two of you.

“Oh, darling. You have no idea what you’ve brought on.”

You wanted to ask what the fuck he was talking about, but you were cut short by his lips again, his hands working on groping your ass through your skirt fabric before lifting you up as if you were nothing before dropping you onto your desktop.

Your hands let go of the tie and the gasp that left your kiss bruised lips as Loki started to nip harshly at your jawline cut into a bit of a squeak as Loki’s fingers started to drag against the outsides of your thighs that were covered by the fabric of your skirt. Your brain made the connection quick. He was looking for the side seams. You just knew it.

“My little girl’s smart, is she?” Loki mused deviously as his lips detached from your skin, his fingers finding just what he was looking for. “She’s only smart when she knows she’s going to get cock, hm?”

Your face heated up instantly as you noted that Loki wasn't hesitating to openly listen to your thoughts. You were... you were speechless. Your hands found their spots on his chest, debating on grabbing his tie again.

“Bold of you to assume you’ll be getting any this evening,” Loki said softly, his eyes scanning your face to see if there was any sign of protest before smoothly grabbing your skirt fabric and ripping it up at the seams.

“Loki!”

“Perhaps a punishment is in order.” Once the fabric was discarded from the tops of your legs, Loki was quick to tug the rest of the poor fabric off your body before ripping your legs open and get a hand under the waistband of your underwear. “You’ve been quite bad, last I checked.”

All you could reply with was stutters. You didn’t plan on this half of the night, but god you didn’t need it to end.

You didn’t want it to end.

Loki cooed as his fingers found your aching clit, applying barely any pressure that was sure to drive you insane. “Look at you, a babbling mess. You thought you had the upper hand, didn’t you?”

“I—” Your words were cut off as two of his thick, long fingers thrusted into your weeping hole, your hands trying to collect fist fulls of Loki’s shirt. “Oh god.”

“Fuck,” Loki started headily, “you’re so tight. No wonder you’re missing my cock.”

You didn’t hesitate to pull your hands from his shirt and lay back on the desk to try enticing Loki to do something other than have his fingers deep inside your pussy, just barely touching your g-spot. “P-Please..”

“Only good girls get what they ask for, princess. And you’ve been everything but that.”

Just after Loki finished speaking, he finally moved his middle and ring fingers slowly. You could feel the gentle, cold scrape of his wedding band against your warm walls as his free hand boldly slid up your stomach and keep you flat against the surface of your desk.

“Making me worry, telling me that I’m in the wrong? No, no, little one. You and I know that’s not true,” Loki said, his hand finally lunging forwards to grab your throat firmly and lift you up to have your faces inches away from each other again. “If I weren’t feeling generous I would just ignore you and those dirty thoughts of yours. You’ve thought about this happening often this week, haven’t you? Taking my thick cock like it’s the first time as I take my anger out on your sweet, sweet body?”

You could only nod frantically in response, the feeling of not being able to get air sending another gush of arousal around the fingers that were starting to prod the soft part of your walls just a tad faster. Loki let out a dark chuckle.

“Dirty, dirty little cockslut, aren’t you? Maybe I should start calling you that. Do you like that name, dove? I do. I feel as if it suits you perfectly,” Loki purred, pressing his lips to yours again as his fingers slipped out of your pussy, tugging at the scrap of underwear to have it snap in his hands before his lips pulled away from your own. “Take my cock out, girl.”

You were quick to rake your hands down from Loki’s wrist from when he grabbed your throat to his slacks, unbuckling his belt and working the button and zipper before being met with his heated skin beneath the fabric.

He planned this.

Loki’s hand loosened its grip on your throat as your fingers brushed against the shaft of his cock. He cleared his throat to gain your attention after you gripped him at the base.

“Is.. Is this alright? I know I'm meant to be mad at you—"

You surged forward and gave Loki a gentle kiss on the lips instantly to quell his sudden worry. "Loki, my love. You're okay. It's okay. We can talk it out properly later."

"Are you okay with that?" Loki questioned, brows raised slightly. It was a complete change from the dominant side he was showing just mere seconds ago. You felt your heart clench as you noticed his genuine concern.

"Yes, absolutely. I'm okay with that." You gave him a wide smile before tugging his cock in your hand suddenly to draw a gasp from his throat. "Now, what was this about me being your cockslut? I quite like the ring to it."

His lips slowly stretched into a smirk once he took a moment to let go of the sudden surge of worry. "Do you?"

"Why would I lie about how much I love your thick cock stretching me open—"

Loki cut you off with a groan, tightening his grip on your neck gently, "if you keep saying things like that, I'll be skipping the punishment. Now shut up and lay on your stomach."

You let out a breathy giggle then, your smile still wide and bright as you were quick to do as Loki told you. You wanted to whine when you felt his hand move from your throat to help you flip over, but you knew better than to do that now.

After all, you were getting punished in some way.

"Why don't you just skip it, agent?" You questioned innocently as you leaned your ass closer to Loki as his hands rubbed at your lower back gently. "We both know I can get punished later."

Loki seemed to actually take your words into consideration as his hands got to your ass, groping the plump flesh tightly before spreading you open to see just how wet you were. His nails dug into your skin slightly which made you mewl in pleasure before Loki let out a harsh sigh.

"You're such a—"

"Cockslut?" You questioned suddenly, flashing your smile over your shoulder as you looked at Loki. "I'm aware."

"Minx," Loki huffed, pulling your hips down so your hips hung over the edge of your desk. "Should have ignored my thoughts for once."

"I like when you tap out," you replied, gasping as Loki manhandled one of your legs to rest up on the desktop. "'S hot."

"Like I said, darling." You weren't sure as to what was happening until you heard some clanking from a belt and felt his searing hot cock thrust into your cunt without giving you a warning. He leaned down where your head rested against the mahogany as you moaned loudly at the sudden intrusion. "Cockslut."

Once he spoke, Loki didn't waste any time to thrust into your pussy that was clenching around his cock like a vice. He made a comment about not even being able to thrust into you from how tight your cunt had a hold on him, and if you were coherent, you'd be blushing from those words and the sounds you were hearing the both of you make alone. But you were enjoying the pleasure that had started to steadily build from the feeling of Loki's cock stretching you open.

You missed fucking Loki. That's what this was.

Loki was nothing less than animalistic, gripping your hips tight enough you knew you'd be bruised by the time you came. You could feel your orgasam creeping up already.

"Look at you," Loki said in between his slowing thrusts to tease you. "Spread out. Willing. You were made for this, darling. Maybe I should keep your cunt filled up more often."

"Please!" You whimpered, your head turning to look over your shoulder to watch Loki's hips slowly thrust against your ass.

"You'd love that, hm? Should I cum in your pussy tonight and let you walk out of here sated with my seed?"

The both of you froze at that comment.

Well, your bodies froze, for the most part. Your pussy flexed around his cock that twitched with need.

He wasn't too sure what had gotten into him, it might have been from the porn he found himself watching the other night when you didn't come home until late, if he was being honest. But noticing how you writhed and let out a loud moan come out after the initial shock statement, that was all the convincing he needed to finally pull out of you to flip you back over before slamming back into your cunt with the sudden need to actually fulfill that very wish.

Because fuck that turned the both of you on, and he wanted—no, needed to see your pussy dripping with his cum.

Loki's body covered your own as his hips pistoned into your own, his cock hitting all the spots you've missed feeling stimulated as your arms wrapped around his neck to bring him down in a heated kiss. Your lips barely met and you let out a shaky laugh before it was cut out with a loud moan, feeling Loki's cock jab at your g-spot head on.

You wrapped your legs around him the best you could then, moaning his name as your nails started to dig in his dress shirt. "F-Fuck! Loki, p-please!"

"Please what, baby?" He questioned evenly as he pulled away from your neck where his head landed after his lips missed your own. "You want to cum on my cock?"

All you could manage was a nod as Loki's hand slipped between your bodies to start rolling your clit between his fingers. His thrusting seemed to only speed up with his words as you tried to keep your noises down as our mouth dropped open in a perfect 'o' shape. "Cum for me. Let that pretty little pussy cum around my cock and I'll be sure to reward you the way you deserve, sweetheart."

You let yourself go. Literally. Loki's fingers rubbing your clit frantically mixed with his deep, heated thrusts? There was no other choice. Your walls tensed around his cock as your hands grabbed tight handfuls of his shirt, moaning loudly as your orgasam rocked your entire body into ecstasy. Your body twitched with pleasure as Loki kept fucking into you with the same breakneck speed, his fingers slowing down slightly.

"So fucking good," Loki huffed as his hips stuttered with their thrusts, "are you sure we shouldn't invest in our own desk?"

"S-Shut the hell up, Laufeyson," you stuttered suddenly, purposefully gyrating your hips to have your pussy clench around Loki's twitching cock. "Cum inside me, now."

Usually, Loki would laugh at you being demanding, especially in a moment like this, but the hard edge of your voice mixed with the noises his cock was making with every thrust inside of you? He was cumming. Hard. He came with a final deep thrust, groaning your name loudly as his hands grabbed at your body in any way possible to ground him from the sensation. His cum was hot as his hips jerked slightly from the left over sensations.

You've never felt so full and satisfied after a fuck in your office until tonight. You heard Loki laugh breathlessly and you just knew he heard your thoughts. The two of you took a moment to catch your breath in the positions you were left in after your release, both of your remaining clothes clinging to your sweaty skin.

Eventually, Loki found himself slowly pulling his softened cock from your spent hole, only to watch his cum dribble out slowly. You both groaned. Both from the sight and the sensation when he had finally pulled out. Part of you wanted to keep the mess between your legs, terribly bad. But your rational side and Loki agreed that you should most likely get cleaned up. With a gentle huff you nodded at Loki to magic away the mess.

It was quiet as you both tried to move around your office to clean up the rest of the space properly. The tension was... gone. Not completely, but certainly less taxing than it was earlier. You walking around bottomless around Loki however wasn't helping either of you.

You were the first to speak up as you picked up your shredded skirt and underwear.

"That was—"

"Hot," Loki finished for you immediately. "That was.. so fucking hot."

"Yeah," you said, laughing softly. "It was."

"Listen, darling," Loki started gently, walking away from the chair he placed back in it's rightful spot, "I'm sorry that I've been mad about this. At you."

"You had every right to be, Loki. I didn't tell you the risk I was going to take, I didn't want you to worry all day." You turned to look at him, a small frown on your face. "I kind of broke that agreement. I'm sorry."

Loki's hands were quick to cup your face gently as he shook his head. "What am I to do with you?"

"Well, some pants would be a good start—"

"Shush," Loki snorted, the both of you shaking with laughter. "I'll get there with you, you vixen."

#nsft text #loki x reader #loki laufeyson imagine #loki odinson #loki layfeyson x reader #loki laufeyson smut #loki odinson x reader #loki odinson imagine #loki odinson smut #loki smut #marvel smut #rachael writes #marvel imagine #TVA #tom hiddleston smut

177 notes · View notes

killjoysfromyesterday · 3 years

Text

all her skies are yellow

new drabble! wrote this during english today. not proofread whatsoever but it’s 10pm pls cut me some slack lmao

summary: set a few months after sing, jet survived.

content warning: slight su*cidal ideation, bl**d, raygun usage

word count: 2,176

"you let us die. why were you the only one to get out? you're a monster, jet." jet can imagine the way kobra's lips turn up into a snarl with his words, the same way he'd talk to dracs during claps, and jet recoils.

jet can't even get in a word to kobra because poison's stepping up, footsteps always so hard, and once again he can see it in his head: poison's eyes always lighted with fury that almost matches the cherry red of their hair.

"you think you're brave? that you're a killjoy like we were? you can't even see anymore." their voice is cruel and jet's heart is going rabbit-fast in his chest, he's pretty sure he's gonna pass out.

"it's all dark, isn't it? that's what you deserve." ghoul pipes up. jet can't help but agree.

and then there's soft footsteps around him, and he braces because he expects to be kicked, but then somebody's got a hand hooked under his jaw to force him to look up. of course, he can't see who it is, but their presence feels familiar. too familiar.

"you're nothing." the voice says, words light as feathers but hitting jet like a ton of bricks.

ma.

the hand on his face is snatched away, and he barely manages to catch himself with his hands and avoid faceplanting onto the ground below him.

there's a cold barrel of a ray gun pressed between his eyes. he knows it's her, because he can hear the far-off cackles of ghoul and the venom siblings.

his ma is going to kill him. he disappoints her that much. he wants to talk, wants to beg for his life, but he can't. the words are stuck in his throat. why would he beg? it's not like he's got any purpose here any more. the girl's got pony, doc, and cherri; she's in good hands. he only weighs them down, hiding away in the shadows and never leaving his room. he's another mouth to feed, and he can't even fucking see now.

"you should've been a better son." she says, voice just like he remembers it as a kid when she sang him to sleep, except now it's nothing but knives that cut straight through and lodge so deep he thinks her words are just enough to kill him. he wants her to just shoot, he doesn't want to think about it anymore. he hopes the witch has room for him.

except she doesn't shoot, just rears back the barrel of the gun and hits him between the eyes so hard that the blackness of his vision fuzzes and spins before he jolts awake with a start, still in his bed at the station.

he's gasping for air, hands flying up to his throat because it feels like his lungs are simultaneously working double time and not working at all, he's getting lightheaded and there's alarms going off in his head.

it's all so loud, he needs it all to stop. he can't think, it's so, so loud, he can hear his blood rushing in his ears. his ma's voice is playing over and over in his head, he can't, he just needs it all to shut up, he-

"you're nothing." her voice repeats like she's standing right there next to him, and he falls off the mattress trying to flinch away from her. he's scooting back, the noises of things falling and breaking with his scared movements are so loud. something falls and he whimpers, clamping his hands over his ears.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i don't know, i'm s-" he's choking, coughing and sputtering and he thinks he's dying. maybe this is how he's supposed to go, the witch just kept him alive for longer than the others as a cruel mockery. she's gonna come and take him away any minute.

poison's talking again, and it's drowned out by ghoul's cackling and kobra's snarling. he's got his legs curled to his chest, and he buries his head between his knees.

he wraps his arms around his torso protectively, trembling so hard he can barely keep himself backed into the corner. his shirt feels wet, and he knows he's most likely torn a few of the stitches on his chest. the stitches over the raygun blast that nearly killed him that night. he wishes it had.

he can still feel the hood of the car, he's staring up at the city sky, thinking the witch was gonna take him. no, instead she had just frowned at him in his dreams and swiped her hand over his face, and the sight in his working eye was no more.

now he's sniffling, arms wrapped around himself so tight he can feel his ribs. he needs to eat. that's what doc tells him. maybe doc would agree with his mom, he's a failure. who would willingly parent such a wreck?

he's twenty-three, he's lived in the desert his whole life. he should be able to process death by now. but instead, he's hiding and shaking like a stray dog. witch, the blood is seeping through his shirt now and onto his hands.

the words of his ma and the others hit a crescendo and he digs his nails into his face, hands clapped over his eyes. he wants to hide. he knows he's probably getting blood all over himself, but better that it's his own than someone else's. he's had too much blood of others on his hands, both figuratively and literally.

he can hear other voices, there's footsteps out in the hall and he knows they're looking for him. shit, he woke them up. he just hopes the girl hasn't woken up.

the door creaks open and he cringes, and little footsteps patter across the floor. well, that question is answered. he grimaces.

"found him!" the girl shouts back in the direction of the hallway.

"you should go back and rest." cherri's voice is hoarse with sleep. it makes jet feel a million times worse.

"but-" she asks, voice trailing off.

"girly. go on." doc says. he sounds the same, he's likely been up for hours. he almost never sleeps anymore. the girl huffs but her footsteps disappear down the hallway and jet assumes she's gone back to her room.

"you opened your stitches." cherri says. he's closer now, his voice is soft. jet doesn't answer, and when cherri goes to touch his arm, jet's hands tear away from his face and he curls himself closer into the corner.

"oh, jet..." pony's voice is behind cherri now, soft and sympathetic. jet wraps his arms back around his torso, fingers digging so hard into his sides he knows he's gonna have bruises. it's the only thing grounding him right now.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry-" he's rambling again.

"sorry for what, tumbleweed?" doc asks. doc hasn't called him that since he was a kid. it just makes jet feel even worse.

jet doesn't know how to answer him, doesn't know how to tell him he's sorry because he lived and they didn't. so instead he just shakes his head and digs his nails even further into his ribs.

he doesn't know how to tell doc that he feels so alone, that his bedroom feels like a prison and he thinks he'd be better off with his mask in the mailbox.

doc always tells him the girl needs him now more than ever, but jet has a hard time believing him. jet can't even see her anymore, her smile has been replaced by the permanent black fuzziness that is his vision now.

poison and kobra are yelling in his ears again, and ghoul sneers so sharply it makes his head hurt. he just wants it to stop. his ma was right. he's nothing.

why did he have to be the one to get out that night? and not the others? poison is- no, was (it hurts to correct himself) poison was a natural born leader, kobra was a genius, and ghoul had so much spirit.

who was he? just the damaged, desertborn kid they hauled around with them? the fact that he made it out was a sick joke.

witch, it's all too much. he's gonna be sick.

"c'mon, let's get you cleaned up." cherri says. jet doesn't want to get up, he just wants to be left alone, but he still stands up on shaky legs and follows cherri to the bathroom.

jet slides onto the edge of the tub, hands gripping onto the sides harder than necessary. cherri's turned the sink on, jet can hear the water running.

"look up." cherri says, and jet tilts his head up so cherri can swipe a washcloth across the scarred mess that is his eyes to wash away the blood that smeared from his chest to his hands and ultimately onto his face when he was panicking. it reminds him entirely too much of the encounter with his ma in his nightmare, and he resists the overwhelming urge to pull away.

"jet, i'm sure you can understand why we're worried." cherri says. his way of enunuciating every syllable is odd to jet, city kids in general are weird, but kobra and poison never had the poshness in their voice like cherri does. it doesn't match cherri, jet thinks.

"these nightmares are getting worse. you're not eating too well, either. you of all people should know how important food is." cherri says.

jet knows that cherri didn't mean it that way, but his words felt like a jab at the fact jet was homeless as a kid. jet just clenches his jaw as he hears cherri put the washcloth away. cherri turns back to him, sitting on the edge of the tub next to him.

"what's really going on?" cherri asks. and then the words are tumbling out of jet's mouth before he can stop them and shove them back in, permanently bottled up in the pit of his stomach.

"i'm a monster. it's my fault, isn't it?" jet asks quietly. the question's been weighing in his head for so long that it feels strange to speak it out loud.

"what?" cherri asks.

"it's my fault they're gone."

"jet." cherri's voice sounds firmer than before.

"no, it's true. please don't try to-"

"jet, you're not a monster. you're like a little brother to me. the others were too. and doc? doc can't handle losing you too. he's already gone a little funny in the head, he's asking where kobra and ghoul are constantly. the girl, she's..."

"she's fine without me." jet interrupts, voice small.

"you have no clue." cherri sighs.

"what?"

"she's not okay without you. she's so scared, jet. pony dropped a pan yesterday and she ran like a bat out of hell. she thought it was a raygun blast." cherri says.

"she misses you so much. you know, she still sets aside the blue crayons for you when she colors. all her skies are yellow now.” cherri chuckles sadly. jet can imagine it in his head, and it makes him too damn sad to think about it for long. the girl setting aside his favorite color for him, and he's barely left his room since they both came back.

"i'd just scare her now." jet mutters. the texture of his face is enough to tell him he doesn't look the same. the gnarled scars covering his face are mostly healed now. sure, he's been missing his right eye since before the girl was born, but it wasn't as bad. she grew up knowing the singular, thin scar across the bridge of jet's nose. what she doesn't know nearly as well is the raygun blast scars from that night, the ones that hit him before the final shot to his chest that sent him back against the hood of the trans am.

"i know you think you're doing the best thing for her by staying away, but she needs you, jet. now more than ever."

"you're slipping, jet. we don't want to lose you too. the girl can't handle losing you." cherri says, and his voice sounds suspiciously tearful.

"you won't."

"then promise me. promise me things will change and we won't have to have this same conversation in a month." cherri's practically begging now. jet doesn't answer.

he can't.

they've had this exchange before, and nothing changed. he can't promise to cherri that things will change this time either, because witch, it's so easy to just hide away. it's so easy to curl up in his bed and think about what could've been. it's so easy to sit there until the grief washes over him like a wave and he's practically drowning himself to feel past the ebbing and flowing numbness that settles in his bones now.

"if you're not gonna do it for me, do it for her. please, jet." cherri pleads, but jet barely hears him because he's thinking about the girl drawing pictures with yellow skies.

"i promise.”

#ray toro #fun ghoul #danger days #cherri cola #destroya #dr. death defying #jet star #kobra kid #party poison #phoenix witch #frank iero #mikey way #gerard way #ttlotfk #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #my chemical romance #mcr #long post

41 notes · View notes

lovingmyselfcore · 3 years

Text

Protect You

I promise as we move along more things will happen in each chapter and I’m not really sure what exactly this is but we’re moving forward so yay

Chapter II: My Sister’s Getting Married and I Get Drunk. It’s a good system

Every time I looked at Taryn all I could think about was the betrayal that came with discovering your twin was in a relationship with your boyfriend, and she had been for a while. I know that Vivi didn’t expect me to just ‘get over it’ but I could tell she wanted me to. She pushed me and Taryn as close together as she dared without risking my wrath as she called it. That gleam in her eyes when I would actually look Taryn in the eyes with something other than hate. She wanted her sisters back, I could understand that, but I doubted we could ever get back to where we were, once.

“Jude,” Taryn’s sing-song voice invaded my mind, curling around my brain and ruthlessly squeezing the sleep out of it.

Light flooded my eyes as she shoved my curtains open. “I noticed you didn’t wake up early like you always did.” Her mouth formed a delicate frown. I wanted to punch it.

“No,” I said, sitting up. “I didn’t have to go in today and recently I’ve been so exhausted I decided to sleep in,” I narrowed my eyes, “Until somebody ruined it.”

Taryn crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s my last day visiting, Jude. I thought you might want to spend it together.”

I just stared blankly at her.

Disappointment flashed across her face, “Fine. But hurry and get ready. I have news I’ve been scared to tell you, but Vivi convinced me I should.”

Now that caught my attention but I quickly schooled my face back to unconcerned.

Her mouth lifted slightly like she knew I wasn’t completely unaffected.

Without another word, she strode out of my room. I scowled at her back and stuck up my finger once she’d turned the corner.

I threw off the covers and reached for my phone.

I’d gotten a text from The Bomb.

Bomb: It’s been about a week since you started guarding Dain with us, we want to get closer. Come for drinks tonight.

Jude: I have a sister thing tonight, I can’t.

My finger hovered over the send button before I pressed it. I don’t know why I didn’t accept. Going for drinks with them sounded like it would be much more fun than what was awaiting me at this very moment.

I groaned and tossed my phone on my bed, moving for my closet.

I walked towards the living room and was immediately assaulted. My little brother, Oak threw himself at me, wrapping his tiny arms around my hips.

“Hi, buddy,” I murmured.

“I’ve missed you, Jude!” I leaned down and picked him up, swinging him around my body, relishing in his giggles.

“Jude,” I set him down at the sound of Oriana’s voice. She stood in the doorway, eyes flitting in every direction like she was looking for the nearest exit. I knew the feeling. She pursed her lips. “The family is waiting.” Not our. Never our. She still didn’t like me. Hadn’t ever. She’d slowly warmed up to Taryn and even Vivi over the years but every time she was in a room alone with me she looked like she would rather claw her own eyes out.

I nodded, peering around her to see Vivi, Taryn, and Madoc in the living room. I wouldn’t ask why they were here. I wouldn’t give Oriana the satisfaction.

I sat next to Vivi, pulling Oak into my lap. I didn’t miss the quick look Oriana shot me as she settled down, angled towards me as if to pull him away. I held him tighter.

“Jude. I have something very big to tell you.” Taryn’s voice held a forced lightness.

She shifted uncomfortably, twisting her hands in her lap, drawing my attention to them. Or more specifically, what was on them. A single finger, specifically.

Something in me twisted. “You’re marrying him.” It wasn’t a question.

She nodded and I squeezed Oak. “Good for you.” I transported Oak onto Vivi’s lap, he went willingly, wrapping his arms around her neck as she tickled his sides.

Even the sounds of his laughter and the humming of the furnace and every other appliance in our house could not help what felt like a deafening silence blanketing the room.

I nodded to myself, making to stand. “Good for you,” I repeated.

“The engagement party is in two weeks. I’d like for you to be there.” Her eyes shone as she looked up at me and that something twisted again.

“Sure.” I found myself saying. “I’ll be there.”

Everyone was still staring at me so I announced, “I’m going to get breakfast from that cafe down the street.”

“Bring me some scones!” Vivi called after me as I shoved my phone in my back pocket, threw my coat on, and walked out the door.

“Sure!” I called back as I slammed the door closed behind me.

~~~~~~~

I sat in the cafe, at a table against the wall occasionally sipping my coffee and picking at my muffin.

I didn’t love him. I’d figured that out pretty easily after the initial ordeal all went down. I was definitely more hurt by her betrayal than his. Actually, I was never that hung up over him. So why did I hate the idea of her marrying him so badly? Well, it wouldn’t. I took a deep breath forcing myself to do one of my best talents. I took my feelings and wrapped a thick wool blanket over them, rolled them over an invisible hill, and pushed them off the edge.

I stabbed my muffin with a plastic fork and slumped in my seat, closed my eyes, and tried to let the classical music drown out the world.

“My sweet nemesis,” A voice purred. “How lovely to see you here.”

My eyes flew open, Cardan was standing above me.

He grinned as my surprise morphed into a glare.

He peered around the cafe carefully before shrugging off his coat, probably something Italian and worth more than my life, and sat down in the seat across from mine.

My eyes lifted instinctively and I saw someone slide into a seat nearby. His security guard, probably. He followed my eyes and let out a long-suffering sigh. “I couldn’t get rid of them all.”

I rolled my eyes, “They’re here to protect you, you know.”

“But you’re here,” He smirked. “You’re all the protection I need.”

Something in my brain woke up. “I’m what you need protection from,” I snarled.

“There she is.”

“What do you want, Cardan?”

He lifted a hand to his heart and pouted. “Come on, dear. You can’t expect me to only be here because of you.”

I raised my eyebrows and looked around the cafe, neutral tones, plants, a generally calm environment. I looked back at Cardan, glitter smeared across his eyelids, winged eyeliner painstakingly applied to perfection, midnight-black curls in disarray. Breath smelling of wine and something else I wasn’t sure I wanted to identify.

I scoffed. “Right. This is definitely your scene.”

He grinned again, “Not really yours either, Jude.”

I shrugged, “I needed to escape.” I was shocked at the honesty and for a second it appeared he was too.

“From what?” He asked.

I rolled my eyes and stabbed my muffin again. He watched with a small smile. “Like you care.”

“I do, actually.” He leaned forward, resting on his forearms and I found myself leaning slightly forward too. “Tell me your troubles.” He was close enough I could see his clear eyes. He was looking at me like he really did want to know, so I told him.

“Taryn is marrying Locke.”

“Yes.” He said. “This is news?”

I furrowed my brows. “This isn’t?”

“He told me he was going to do it quite a bit ago, but that doesn’t matter. Why does this trouble you?” Something I couldn’t decipher flashed across his face and his voice got tight. “Do you love him?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Good, he’s not good enough for you.” The sincerity in his tone caught me off guard and I went quiet. He did too.

We sat there in silence, watching each other. “Jude.” His voice was quiet.

“Yes?”

“Be careful.”

I sat up straighter, “What do you mean?”

He glanced around, his eyes flitting from the security cameras to his own guard and back again. “With my brother.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Maybe, but getting involved with him. With us, in the way that you are,” His voice was strained. “Just, be careful.”

“What are you talking about?” I demanded.

He sucked in a breath. “I can’t, Jude. Just,”

He stood up and shrugged his coat back on. He hadn’t met my eyes, he was still watching everything and everyone around us.

“Be careful. Or you’re going to get hurt. Badly.”

~~~~~~~

Cardan’s warning stirred something in me, something that caused me to, as soon as he was out of the cafe with his security in tow, pick up my phone and text the Bomb.

Jude: Is that offer for drinks still open?

Bomb: Definitely

Jude: Just tell me the time and place. I’ll be there.

~~~~~~~

“What made you decide to come?” Bomb - or, as I just found out, Lilliver - asked as I waved down the bartender for a refill.

I shifted in my seat.

“Nothing good, then?” Ghost - Garrett - asked.

I looked at him and he grimaced, “Your body language is screaming at me.”

I let out a noise between a laugh and a groan.

“Spill, girlie.” Roach - Van - demanded.

“I just found out my twin sister is marrying my high school boyfriend.”

Van whistled, low.

“Damn,” Lilliver said.

“Oh,” I said. “It gets worse.”

I explained to them how Locke had been with Taryn longer than he’d been with me, but the two of them were in a secret relationship. And Taryn knew about me and him the whole time.

“How’d you find out?” Van’s speech was slurred as he leaned forward. He sloshed his drink and Lilliver slid away gracefully to avoid the spill.

“Oh,” I sighed, resting my head in my hands and letting out a humorless laugh. “He told me.”

Garrett leaned forward then, eyebrows raising. “So he grew a conscience?”

I shook my head, rolling my eyes.”Of course not. He just thought he had me deep enough in his grasp that he could.” I brought my hand to my chest as if to contain the hiccup. It didn’t work. “He thought he could keep dating both of us.”

“What the fuck.” Lilliver said, Van and Garrett, echoing the sentiment.

“Wait,” Lilliver held up her hands in a pause motion. “I’m drunk so I’m kinda slow right now but, Locke.” She waved her fingers. “Isn’t that one of Cardan’s friends?”

Van looked like she’d just explained why the sky was blue. He looked at me for confirmation.

I nodded, taking a deep drink. “That’s how I met the Greenbriars. Cardan and I were in the same grade. Vivi and Rhyia are close.”

“So you were in the same circle?”

I laughed, “God no. Exact opposite ‘circles’. Cardan and I declared each other sworn enemies day one, Valerian and Nicasia despised me on sight and Locke for the most part had stayed out of it.”

“Until he decided to date you both just to see if he could.”

“Yeah,” I sighed.

“Did Cardan and the others know?”

“Kind of?” I shrugged. “I’ve never been clear on how much Valerian knew. But, Nicasia found out he was dating one of us and told Cardan.” My voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, “Neither of them liked it very much.” Van snorted. “Locke decided to out me and him to the school,” I waved my drink through the air. “We dated publicly for a little while and then at senior prom I found out what was going on with him and my sister. The rest is history.”

Lilliver winced, “Prom?”

“Oh yeah,” I said and grinned. “Great memories.”

Garrett looked at me sympathetically, “I’m sure.”

“Oh!” I declared, accidentally slapping Van in the arm, “I got into a physical fight with Taryn after, too.”

“Did you win?” Lilliver asked and at my grin and smug nod she cackled. “Atta girl.”

I hiccuped and set my drink down. “I’m going to dance,” I announced and wormed out onto the dance floor.

I danced for what felt like hours, the music had burrowed into my blood, my bones. I couldn’t stop. People were passing me drinks and more that I can’t even remember. The world was a blur. Somewhere, I recognized familiar voices but I drowned everything out aside from the pumping in my ears.

I know I threw up on some girl at some point because a high-pitched voice was yelling at me, I couldn’t make out a single word she said but almost immediately after a hand wrapped around my upper arm. “Come on, Jude. You have to go home.”

I resisted but clearly, I wasn’t coordinated enough to fight back because their grip only tightened. “Stop fighting,” The voice hissed, pulling me through the groups of people, I opened my mouth to call out for someone, anyone but my voice was caught in my throat. “It’s just me.”

“Cardan?” My voice came out in a whisper and the world sharpened.

It was Cardan, he was holding me tight against him as we exited the club. He looked down at me with an indecipherable look in his eyes. “Some guys were watching you, and you'd already had enough to drink. I’m taking you home.” His voice was harsh.

“I can take care of myself.” I spat, finding the strength to pull away from him, but he kept his hand on my arm.

“I know you can, Jude.”

"Dain's going to kill me for getting this drunk when I'm supposed to be on call isn't he?"

Cardan's silence was answer enough.

"Are you sure you don't love him?" Cardan asked suddenly.

"Who?" I furrowed my brows. "Dain?"

"Well, I certainly I hope you don't love Dain. But I'm talking about Locke."

I tried to look at him but he wouldn't meet my eyes. "I'm sure. Why?"

His grip tightened. "Getting basically blackout drunk the night you're told he's marrying your sister is on the more on the extreme side of the scale."

I laughed despite myself. "I don't love Locke. But even if I did, why do you care?"

"I don't," He snarled.

I hummed, "You can let go of me now, I can walk."

He snorted, "Sure you can." Suddenly he released my arm and I stumbled, throwing my arms out for balance.

Cardan crossed his arms, watching me, amused while I stumbled on the sidewalk like an infant.

I flipped him off but it was the wrong move. It took my concentration from keeping upright and I stumbled sideways just enough to slam into a streetlight.

I winced and my hand flew to my head. Cardan stepped forward slowly but lunged when my knees buckled and I collapsed.

"That's going to be a wicked bruise," He grinned down at me.

My eyes were heavy as he swept me into his arms, “I’ll kill you. You and I both know I can.”

I felt myself being lowered into his car but he didn’t let go. Settling us both into the backseat, I felt his laugh more than I heard it. “I know, Jude.”

The last thing I heard before I passed out was him giving his personal driver my address.

Tag: Let me know if you want to stay on the tag list for this. I wasn’t sure but I tagged you anyway :)

@foreverscreaming @ladyofbloodandroses

#the folk of the air #protect you au #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #qon #tcp #tfota #tfota fanfic #jude x cardan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #jurdan #judecardan #twk #hthkoelths

41 notes · View notes

project-rosewood-476 · 3 years

Text

Love? What's That?

*slaps this blog* THIS BADBOY CAN FIT SO MANY SIDE FICS IN IT

Here's another side fic. This one also focuses on an interaction between Tabby and her stepdad but this is on the more gentler side.

Yes this is still angst but its more of a hurt/comfort thing I promise you. It ends on a semi happy note

“You know most of my problems stem from you. Honestly, I would be better and have more freedom if you’d just disappeared off of the face of the planet. It’s only you that has a problem with me! If you’d just upped and left, we would all be much happier,” spat out a 12-year-old Tabby as she slammed the bottom kitchen cabinet that she was cleaning.

Today and night, she was ordered around to do busy work around the house when her stepdad could have quickly done it himself. But no, he was too busy being a lazy piece of shit even to entertain the thought of doing his responsibilities around the house. He was breathing down her neck all day and telling her what to do when he saw that she would do it anyways on top of lacing into her about her problem with authority and other mental issues. He just wouldn’t back the fuck off, and she was dead ass tired. She had enough, and that’s what caused her outburst because he wasn’t going to listen otherwise.

Tabby looked over at the kitchen clock on the stove longingly. It was well into 2’o clock in the morning, and her mom was supposed to be home two hours ago. She knew that her store was chaotic and busy, so it took time to clean, but this was outrageous even for her. She had a sneaking suspicion that something was up, and apparently, she wasn’t the only one.

“Yeah, well, careful what you wish for. Keep it up, and you may get it,” The older male grumbled and looked away.

Tabby snapped her head up from what she was doing and looked over at him with a suspicious and confused look. Surely this was one of his ploys to guilt-trip her into apologizing for what she said, or It was a trick to get her hopes up only to smash them down. But something about what he said just sounded different. Like he almost meant it. She just couldn’t place her finger on it. Yet something about what he said was off, and it disturbed her.

“What do you mean by that?” Tabby asked slowly.

“Don’t worry about it! That’s none of your business!” he snapped at her.

“You can’t just drop an ominous phrase like that and tell me not to worry about it! Whatever it is, I have a right to know! Come on; we’ve been through thick and thin with each other! You can tell me. I promise you won’t be alone!” she pleaded.

“I SAID DROP IT, TABITHIA!” he raised his hand about to hit her, which caused Tabby to flinch and attempt to block his oncoming attack before hearing her mom pull up in the driveway finally.

He slowly put his hand down and straightened up before turning away from her.

“Get some rest. Your mother and I need to have an adult conversation,”

“Uh oh, this can’t be good,” said Tabby in thought.

She slowly stood up and put her cleaning supplies away. Her eyes widened in horror as they darkened with troubled thoughts. Oh god, she sincerely hopes that their suspicions weren’t correct. They both hated being wrong, but they both prayed to whoever was listening up there for this one except for the first time.

The look her mother gave her when Tabby made eye contact with her as soon as she walked through the door was enough of a confirmation. Tabby hung her head in defeat and began to cry silently. She moved past her dad as fast as she could so he couldn’t see the weakness in her and into her room.

That night was the longest ever in Tabby’s life so far. That night was the night she saw her parents fall out of love with each other. She tried to go to sleep. It wasn’t often her dad let her go to bed willingly, and she planned to take full advantage of that.

“Who cares if he leaves? Good riddance for me! I can finally get my freedom! We don’t need him! And honestly, it’s high time that she kicked him to the curb for good!” she grumbled to herself as she tossed and turned. She was still wide awake, listening in to her parent’s conversation. He was angry, but it was more of the cold and calculating anger. Yet, he still didn’t hit her or yell at her, for that matter. How come he was gentle with everyone else except for her? It wasn’t fair.

“Come now; I know you don’t believe a word you just said.,” she said in thought, trying to reason with herself.

“And what if I do?” she challenged out loud to herself.

“You don’t. Wanna know how I know? Because if you believe that you would be celebrating with joy instead of hurting for him and crying and secretly praying that he won’t leave. You are scared,” she said to herself in thought matter of factly.

“I mean, I guess I am hurting for myself and him...I mean, yeah, he’s hurt me more times and ways that I can count. But does he deserve to be hurt in return? Cheating on someone? Especially that person who you’re supposed to love and care for and be loyal to? That’s just low! He’s done everything for us! He took me in and raised me when he didn’t have to! And he stuck around for Adam, too, when he could of just have his fun and left again! But no! He stays here, makes sure that we’re fed and not dead and takes care of us, and teaches us how to take care of ourselves! And my mom dares to do this to him?!”, she was seething in rage as she clenched her bedsheets, making her knuckles turn white and banging her head against the pillow as hard as he could.

“I sense a feeling of betrayal here,”

“That’s an understatement. I mean, I’ve always viewed my mom as this very moral person. She preaches that like fire and brimstone. But I guess once a coward, always a coward. I’m just upset that I was let down, that’s all,” she admitted in defeat.

“Ah, there it is—the truth. Now, let’s go over this rationally. It wouldn’t be a good idea for him to leave. Because if he did, how would that affect Adam? Are you willing to have that conversation with a 3-year-old? Are you ready to tell him the truth of why daddy is no longer with him? Because we all know mom won’t do it. Speaking of mother dearest, as much as we would like to believe that she doesn’t need another man in her life, you and I both know that with a short amount of time, she would fall back on her old habits of bringing strangers into the house namely other adult males. Do you want to go back to that? Especially with Adam on the line? You know that no other males out there other than dad would be willing to take care of other kids other than his own. What if he left and mom brought home another strange male who’s just as bad as dad, if not worse?! Are you willing to put Adam through that?! Is that the price you’re ready to pay for your freedom?!” she interrogated herself in the hellscape she called her head.

Tabby was crying hysterically at this point. She didn’t want to lose her best friend/dad, who’s she’s known for eight years. He’s all she knows. She didn’t want to be left alone again like she was all those years ago for a brief time. Only this time, he won’t come back. Oh god, this wasn’t what she wanted. This wasn’t how she wanted it to happen. She scolded herself on how she could be so selfish as to disregard Adam like that. Adam, her pride and joy. The sweet innocent little boy who was a ray of sunshine to all. She could never throw away what she worked so hard to raise. She needed to provide stability for him. Even if the abuse wasn’t good for him to be around, it was still stability nevertheless. She would much rather have him around someone he trusts and is used to growing up with than some stranger who would do god knows what to them that mom brought in off the streets. Tabby can’t be everywhere at once, and she won’t always be there to protect him. She’ll put up with the abuse for a while longer until Adam is eighteen and out of there. She’ll suffer if that means Adam can have safety and stability.

She loved him that much to do so.

“What is love?” She asked aloud.

“I’m not sure you would have to do more thinking about that,” her conscience admitted.

Tabby slowly came out of her dissociative state. She blinked and looked around her surroundings in confusion before looking at her alarm clock.

6:00 am it read.

“Ah fuck I’m going to be late for school if I don’t hurry my ass up!” she said in a panic.

She hurriedly got ready, looking messy, but she’ll fix that on her way to school and in the bathroom before school started.

She hesitantly reached for her doorknob before stopping.

“What if he’s not there? What if he did leave?”

She hesitated but turned the doorknob.

“Only one way to find out”

She pushed her bedroom door open and was greeted with the warm air mixed with the sickly sweet scent of Malibu 100, vodka, and cheap beer. The living room and kitchen were a mess covered in dishes, disorganized clutter on the floors on top of empty beer cans everywhere, and the two liquor bottles. Tabby coughed at the smells, and already she was feeling a migraine coming on from the Malibu. She told herself she’ll clean up after school since it would probably still be there when she got back. She simply did not have the time. She’ll deal with the lecture and beating later. She knew that he spent the rest of the night drinking his sorrows away. The only thing that brought her relief was seeing her dad passed out on his chair.

“He didn’t leave us after all,” she thought warmly.

Tabby couldn’t help but run over and hug him and didn’t want to let him go. Even if he reeks of sweet liquor and cheap beer coming from him, it was oddly comforting to her. She didn’t care if her migraine was getting worse. She was afraid that if she let go and went to school, she would never see him again.

“Huh, hey, what’s the meaning of this?” he slurred awake, blinking to try to clear his surroundings. He looked down to see Tabby nuzzling his chest, crying, half hanging on him and half on his lap.

“Tabby, honey, what are you doing? You’re going to be late for school, and you still have to clean this mess up,” he meant to have a harsh undertone, but he was too wasted, his voice slurred with softness and concern instead.

“I didn’t sleep at all last night! I was too riddled with anxiety! I overheard everything you and mom talked about! I was so scared that you would have left us! And then I would have to worry about raising and protecting Adam and making sure that mom doesn’t bring home any strange man that isn’t you ” she talked fast, and word vomited all over him like she was spilling her sins at the altar.

“Tabby, honey, why would I do that to you and your brother and your mother?” he sounded so concerned. It’s so hard to believe that in any other circumstances or the fact that if he were sober, he would have pushed her off of him and chewed her out, and beaten her for being a baby.

“Because mom cheated on you! And you deserve to be happy! And you deserve so much better! You do so much for us and go above and beyond! And I just love you so much, and I hate seeing you hurt! And it’s just not fair!” she was sniffling, hiccupping, and blubbering mess.

“Tabby, honey, listen to me. Hey, no, look at me,” he said gently as she lifted her face.

“I will never abandon my children or your mother. That’s not what you do to people who have been there for you through thick and thin. I can’t just leave my two favorite children on their own. You both need me,” he patted her hair to calm her down.

Tabby didn’t say anything. She just sat there and held onto him, whimpering, trying to catch her breath.

“You know I’m proud of you. You are becoming everything I’ve dreamed of you becoming,” he said so soothingly as he continued to pet her hair.

“Really, you mean it?” she looked up at him, hopefully.

Like with alcohol, she was falling for the sweet poison of his words.

“Oh yes. Surviving rosewood is no small feat. It takes so much mental strength to do so and be a top-notch leader at that. I am so proud of you for how far you’ve come and how far you will go. I have raised a strong, independent daughter. Yes, I do consider you my child,” he continued to slur his words, but he was so sweet and comforting.

Like her dad with the Malibu, she continued to down the sweet poison of his words like there was no tomorrow. She was becoming drunk on false praise and promises. Even though she knew that it was only temporary, she didn’t care. She would deal with the damage later.

“D-dad?”

“Yes, honey?”

“W-What is love?”

He hesitated and thought for a moment.

“Love...love is being there for those you care about. Even if they hurt you, it’s about the unconditional love you have for them. They might not appreciate it now, but they will in the long run. I guess I’m just loyal to a fault,” he looked away, embarrassed.

"So love is loyalty then?” Tabby lifted her head and cocked it to the left in confusion.

He thought about it for a moment.

"Yeah, love is loyalty."

She thought about it. It made sense to her. She was loyal to her group, and she loves her group. And her group is devoted to her, and she knew that they loved her. So that checked out. She's loyal to heath and would never do anything to hurt him and vice versa. So that checked out. And she’s devoted to her dad because he was the only one to raise and take care of her and teach her when no one else would. She holds him to the highest esteem. And she loves him despite everything. Hell, she believes that hiding the body brought them closer because they share a traumatic experience. And if he didn't love her he didn't have to stick around and go above and beyond for any male with a kid that's not theirs. He didn't have to, and he still chose to anyways. So in a sense, he was loyal to her.

So that means he loves her.

“Hey, dad?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you. I don’t hate you; I just miss you,” she said as she buried her face into his chest.

“I love you too, honey,” he said as he continued to hold her and kiss the top of her head.

He continued to hold her close as she just spilled everything and everything. She knew that he would use all that information against her later and be in trouble for it, but she didn’t care. She was desperate to have her best friend back, even if it was fake and temporary. He was patient with her, and he listened. Pretty soon, he fell back asleep, and she fell asleep on him like a little kid again. Safe and sound.

She didn’t go to school that day.

#Every Rose Has Its Thorns #ERHIT AU #side fic #oringinal character #tabby anderson #tabby #hurt/comfort

8 notes · View notes

justaconsequence · 3 years

Text

The virus and quaranteening have made us do unthinkable things. Here I am, posting a very self-indulgent piece. I wrote it purely for my own entertainment, then I read @wyn-dixie ‘s posts, had a chat with her, and she’s actually helped me to not overthink fanfiction and to publish the story. It might brighten up someone’s day after all :) So here’s one for the lovely O! Please if you don’t like this sort of real person x reader stories, then don’t read it.

The Kiss Pedro P*scal x you

You tilt your head down to peer at Donkey; his coat tickles. You rub your nose sleepily. The late afternoon light is coming to the room through the cream-coloured curtains. The sofa is soft and the blanket is cocooning your body perfectly. You feel comfortable and groggy, ready to fall asleep again but fighting it.

When you look up, Pedro’s brown eyes are trained to your face. You don’t know what to do with that. He’s wearing a plan gray t-shirt with no logos and jersey shorts. And he'd gone out like that, you almost scoff. As usual, his overgrown hair is a mess. Pedro doesn’t deny to you anymore that he knows how to style it.

“He’s a good sleeping partner, isn’t he?” Pedro says, crouching down next to the sofa, getting into your immediate proximity. Before you have a chance to say something back, Donkey’s ears twitch and he lifts up his head.

Pedro lets out a quiet laugh, stroking his head that’s popping out from under the blanket. Donkey licks his hand lovingly, then jumps down to the floor in a second

Without the dog, the atmosphere changes to heavier right away.

“I bought some strawberries and apples,” Pedro says, glancing over his shoulder, probably to the kitchen area. You nod, not knowing what to reply. This is his apartment.

He shuffles on his feet awkwardly, and you can’t believe that a grown up man can get this self-conscious. You don’t know Pedro like this. Well, not really.

“I’m sorry for before.” The situation is ridiculous. Him, standing by the sofa, looking as a stranger at his own place. You, just having woken up from napping on his sofa. “It’s fine. I’m sorry too.” You keep the words carefully neutral. You are not lying. “I shouldn’t have left like that.” “You needed space.” “I should have said something.” “I whish you had,” you admit, looking down at the blanket, picking up at the loose strings coming off of it. You don’t want to cry, but you feel how heavy the moment is. You are not used to having these talks. Normally it’s all jokes and laughs. You are good friends. If sometimes you think of his hands on you in different ways than throwing you into the swimming pool or tickling you while watching a serious movie, then it’s your own problem. Pedro crouches down again, and you want to point out that Donkey is not here anymore, but this time he reaches for you, laying his hand softly on the crown of your head, his thumb resting on the top of your forehead. He strokes you gently, in the most intimate manner. Your breath hitches in your chest. You don’t do this either. You are affectionate but not like this; actions heavy with maybes and ifs. “I- ,”you breath out before cutting yourself off, not really knowing what you want to say. He’s still looking at you, and his lovely brown eyes are soft and searching. “Pedro,” you say, getting up on your elbow. There’s hair stuck to the side of your face, and before you have a chance to unstuck it from your cheek, he does it for you. Your eyes flutter shut of a moment, heart hammering. “What are you doing?” you whisper. This is not an accident, and you are not reading too much to Pedro’s actions. This is simply not how you behave around each other normally. With a bold move, you take his large hand into yours, squeezing his fingers that had been in your hair just seconds ago. You can hear Donkey drinking from his bowl in the kitchen, and faint noises from the street below. Otherwise it’s quiet; the time is still. To lighten up the situation, you reach and grip his stubbly chin lightly, huffing a nervous laugh. He parts his lips on a soft exhale, the air hitting your own face, and your eyes are forced to flick there. When you dare to glance up at Pedro, he’s looking at your own mouth. Face flushing instantly, you fight not to squirm with unease, completely lost for words. “Can I kiss you?” Pedro says, finally looking up from your lips and meeting your eyes. You bite your lip. Oh god. “Yes.” Pedro shuffles, kneeling up, while you fully sit up. The moves bring your faces much closer, and you can’t believe that you’ve lived up to this moment. One that you had been scared to ever dream about. But you have. More so since the night of the stupid “spin the bottle” game. Boldly, you lean in first, impatient to snap the tension that’s grown around you. You can smell his Loewe cologne and the familiar laundry detergent, as you place a very light kiss on his right cheek. It’s not so about the mouth on mouth action - it’s about the anticipation, the closeness, the way how the bond between you is breaking and being put together again in a slightly different way. Pedro lifts up your connected hands and kisses the top your knuckles, while you are watching him to do so. Then he laces your fingers together. That crease between his brows appears, as if linking your hands was some kind of a scientific equation; as if you were one. Your fingertips slide against each others, and you wonder if you will ever have the chance to map the veins and knuckles with your tongue. Pedro’s breating has grown deeper, you can tell from the way his chest expanses and deflates, brushing against your upper arm. You take in his broad shoulders and his long throat. It looks vulnerable this close up, the thin skin flushed and soft. The next kiss lands there, just to the left from his Adam’s apple. You linger there this time, putting off meeting his eyes again, having him look at you and see what’s showing on your face. You are not an actress with the ability to guard your expression. The skin of his neck is hot against your lips, and after two or three pecks, you open your mouth slightly to get more taste. Pedro inhales sharply, and you literally feel the sound that revibrates through his throat. He tilts his head and kisses your temple, your hairline. It’s sweet and innocent and perfect, being so close to Pedro is also intoxicating. Your touches grow bolder and you stroke his arms and lay a hand on his chest, his heart hammering under it. Pedro tucks your hair behind your ears, brushes his thumbs against your jaw and ear lobes. He stalls there, mouthing softly against the ear shell. Thousands of goosebumps break out everywhere on your body, the hairs on your arms erecting. You accidentally let out a helpless sound, and you can feel Pedro smile against your cheek in return. “Are we kissing yet?” he asks, voice innocent but laced with something darker. You hum, not daring to speak out loud. His mouth is so close. “I just-” you murmur, careful not to brush your lips against his cheek. It would be so easy. “I want to postpone the first kiss a bit,” you explain. “You know, there’s only one first kiss. And I’ve been waiting long enough. I want to stretch out the anticipation.” This was way too honest, you realise. On the other side - Pedro wants to kiss you too. There’s nothing to hide anymore, and you might as well take a full advantage of the situation. And stating the truth - that’s just very you. “Right,” Pedro nods. “I get it.” He is a good boy, not moving an inch, letting you take the lead and do as you please. You kiss the corner of his jaw and then closer to his chin, up his cheek on the point of his cheek bones. His stubble is rough against your lips but you don’t mind. Pedro lets out a content sigh and hangs his head low, letting you work. You tilt his face with a gentle hand to his jaw, turning it and repeating your motions. Kiss to the jaw, kiss to the cheek. One kiss to the corner of Pedro’s mouth and another one even closer. His hand is warm when he lays it to your bare forearm. That’s when you decide to press a single peck to his mouth. Then once more. A dry kiss. When you open your eyes and lean back, Pedro is looking at you. “Good?” you check with a little smile, and he smiles back. You both lean in this time, trading a few longer, close-mouthed kisses. You concentrate on the texture of Pedro’s lips under yours. They are a bit chapped and very very warm, burning against yours. Cupping his face, you run the tips of your fingers through his beard. Just the fact that you CAN is - liberating. His skin smells different from his clothes, that you are used to. More like him; like flesh and sweat and moisturizer. “Will you let me taste you?” It’s Pedro who speaks up now. His words catch you by a surprise. Used to his sweet moderation, this is unexpected, making your cheeks heat up. After a short nod, Pedro palms your cheek and brings your face close to his. This time you part your lips when your mouths meet, catching the corner of Pedro’s bottom lip between yours. It takes only a few seconds before you coordinate your moves. You touch your tongue to Pedro’s instinctivelly, as soon as you feel it against your top lip. The tiny point of a connection sends a powerful spark through your body. You can’t contain the sharp intake of breath as you kiss carefully, your free hand slipping in Pedro’s soft curls. Your other hand is still holding his, palms sweaty. The taste of him is intoxicating. Better than anything else. As the kiss deepens, you pull him on the sofa by his shoulders. Chuckling, Pedro goes willingly and you catch his eyes in the process. His neck is flushed, matching the colour of your cheeks, his lips already look swollen. Or you want them to be. You accommodate his narrow hips between your thighs, the woolen blanket creating an additional barrier between your groins. Pedro leans down and kisses under your jaw. “Sweet,” he murmurs.

#my fic #what if there's more soon??#if i tag pedro pascal but do the star in his name in the text #is it gonna help at all?#pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal

16 notes · View notes

penguintransporter · 3 years

Text

Winning The Game Called Love (Hector Bellerin) PART V

Part V of this little piece that I enjoy writing so much. It is a bit longer, but if you ask me, totally worth your time. The entire story was inspired by the outfit in the picture, so I wanted to post it. Also, I kinda want to dedicate this chapter to one and only @varanest because of all the support I got, and of course all you anons that decided to write me - you have no idea how much it means to get encouragement for one’s work. Anyway, this was supposed to be the last part, but I think there will be one more after this because I don’t want to leave you hanging (epilogue maybe?) Let me know what you think...

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

________

Aida wrapped her long coat tighter around her body, trying to stop herself from shivering even if she was well aware that she wasn’t doing so because she was cold.

Her battered Dr. Martens boots echoed as she walked along the edge of the vast parking lot, and except for few expensive-looking cars parked randomly and a very bored security guard, sitting in his small cubicle, watching Fawlty Towers – it was completely empty.

Aida pulled her phone out, nervously checking the time, but deep down she was just doing it in order to see if there was maybe a text message from Héctor, telling her where to look for him.

What if this is all just a prank?

Was he watching her now, laughing his arse off?

Just as she was about to jump on the train of doubtful thoughts and untrue conclusions, she spotted him – her heartbeat speeding up ever so slightly.

Héctor was leaning on the wall, illuminated by the spotlights surrounding the exit doors – eyes trained on his phone as he lazily moved his thumb across the screen. Aida’s stomach did a quick flip as she stopped for a second, observing him from from afar - letting the familiar rush of excitement run through her, followed by yet another shiver.

This time she didn’t even try to make herself believe that it was because of the low temperatures.

Deciding that she had been creeping on Héctor for too long – not that she could be blamed in the first place, Aida started walking towards him – her heart beating loudly in her ears, masking the noise that her boots made. Nervously, she smoothed down her clothes, exhaling softly.

Héctor looked up at her as she approached – a slow grin appearing across his face as he slid his phone in the pocket of his trousers. Aida smiled back feeling her bile rising as she quickened her pace, and before she could say or do anything, Héctor had already pulled her into one of those hugs that made any other hug she received less important.

Surprised by the sudden and unexpected contact, Aida wrapped her hands around him awkwardly.

It was a mistake, she knew it, but she couldn’t help herself – inhaling deeply, she let her guard down for just a few seconds, enjoying their closeness. Aida could tell that he recently had his post-match shower, both by his scent and the wet tips of his hair that tickled her face as they hugged.

“Nice to see you,” Héctor spoke, breaking the hug, and Aida, for the lack of better reaction, smiled softly as she took a reluctant step backwards. There was nothing more she wanted than to stay in his embrace for much longer, but she had to maintain healthy distance – after all, they weren’t even – heck, Aida didn’t even know what they were.

Still, that pretend distance that was supposed to keep her feelings in check meant nothing once Héctor gave her a cheeky once-over, grinning like an idiot. Not knowing what to do or say, Aida nervously pulled at the strings of the hoodie she was wearing – suddenly feeling warm throughout her entire body.

She was blushing.

You’re acting like an idiot, Aida.

Héctor smirked at her – index finger moving closer to her chin only to tug the string out of her grip gently, muttering something in Spanish.

Or was it English? Catalan?

“I hope you don’t mind me wearing it in public,” Aida muttered, smoothing down the hoodie while avoiding looking at him. When he didn’t say anything, she continued, trying to sound like her normal self that seemed to be lost somewhere between her feelings for the handsome right-back and the intense brown of his eyes, “I really enjoyed the match, thanks for inviting me.”

“All of it? Or just the last fifteen minutes that I was out on the pitch?” Héctor teased, giving her a small wink. Aida felt that familiar warmth wash over her yet again as he pointed at the exit doors behind him. “It’s a good thing that we won, then. That goal was a proper beauty.”

Aida, deciding that her sarcasm might be her best bet, gave him her best fake surprised face as he stepped forward, opening the doors for her and holding them in place. “Wait, what?” she asked, suppressing a smile, “are you trying to tell me that you weren’t the lads in blue?”

Héctor laughed lightly, adjusting the red beanie on his head, and it made Aida stop for a second when she realised how well put together he actually looked – despite playing a major game just an hour before. From the choice of his clothes to the tiny details like his cross earring and few statement rings on his long, tattooed fingers.

Stop staring.

“You humour me,” Héctor retorted as Aida she squeezed herself next to him and took a few steps towards the glint of light that was coming from the world outside.

“Look, I will stand here and all you have to do is try to kick the ball past me,” Héctor instructed, still crouching in front of her where he was adjusting ‘the ball’.

She enjoyed the silly competitions - never failing to make a fool out of herself willingly or not, and she had nothing against some football, despite being very, very bad at it, but as Héctor tried to explain the challenge, Aida noted two problems.

First – the ground beneath her boots was slightly muddy, sticking to the soles of her boots, and second – the ball that Héctor was fixing wasn’t actually a ball, but a pine cone that he kept hitting as they walked through the park since they arrived.

For some reason or another, they ended up in Highbury Fields – taking the empty pathway along the rows of naked trees and wintery bushes, and despite the silence between them, Aida enjoyed their stroll as she stole glances at him every now and then like a lovesick schoolgirl. The park seemed to be very quiet just for them, with only occasional passerby that didn’t even spare a second look at the professional footballer and a petite brunette with rosy cheeks next to him.

“It’s ridiculous,” she commented, adjusting her hat nervously. “I know it doesn’t look like it, but I have two lefts attached to my body.”

Héctor chuckled at her, glancing quickly at her. “You just have to believe in yourself.”

“Easy for you to say,” Aida huffed, “it’s like competing against, I don’t know—have you seen yourself on the pitch?”

“Few times, but I am glad to find out that you did as well,” Héctor teased as Aida felt her stomach being evaded by thousands of butterflies. “Would it help if I motivated you somehow?”

Aida looked down at him, finding herself both annoyed and turned on with his cheeky smirk. She could sense that he had an idea on his mind, and frankly, she was slightly scared. “Go on, vice-captain…” Aida urged, placing both of her hands on her waist.

“That ball—,”

“—Pine cone, you mean?”

Héctor made a silly face at her, and once again, her stomach made a flip.

“That pine cone,” he corrected himself, “if you manage to get it past me, I am buying you dinner after this. There’s a great vegan place down the road, and I’ve been peckish for a while now.”

Aida blushed, imagining them sitting at the table together, candle burning in middle, and his hand slowly touching hers— she stopped herself, shaking her head lightly.

You need to stop watching Hallmark movies.

“And if I don’t?” Aida asked, composing herself.

“I haven’t thought about it,” he spoke as he got up, dusting his hands against his trousers before giving her a look under his eyebrows. “Come on, unicorn. Have faith in yourself because I do.”

Not only did she lost the challenge, but she has also managed to fall on her arse and stain her relatively new coat with the wet mud. Despite giving her best, Aida knew that with her two left legs and balance or rather lack of it, she wasn’t going to win this one, no matter how much he tried to make it easy for her.

“Well, that was embarrassing,” she grinned at him like a Cheshire cat, brushing her coat with her hands as he took off his hat for a second, running his fingers through his locks before putting it back in the place.

Héctor stifled a laugh before hitting the unlucky pine cone with a real force, making it fly and land along the bushes, few meters away. “It wasn’t that bad,” he grinned, and Aida rolled her eyes at him. “I’ve seen worse.”

“Who? My granny?” she joked as Héctor took a step closer, only to pull her hat over her eyes, making her gasp and swat his hand away. “I was actually looking forward to that dinner,” Aida added with a sigh.

“It can still happen, y’know?”

“That’s because you’re peckish, innit?” Aida teased back, blushing lightly as Héctor smirked at her.

Slowly, they made their way down the long stretch of park, towards the exit as Aida tried to come up with something to say. She knew that she had no need to keep talking, but she enjoyed the silly banter with him; it was relaxing her.

Aida looked around the park.

The dusk had already set – the layer of fog forming slowly, and despite the gloominess of the winter, it looked beautiful. She stuck her hands in her pockets as she observed the nature surrounding them.

“I was wondering…” Aida started softly after a while – a thought that has been bouncing around her mind, tickled her curiosity.

“Hmm?” Héctor hummed as Aida glanced up at him – her heart making a dip into her stomach.

Hot. Ridiculously hot.

“Why did you want to meet up after the match?” she asked, making a detour around a small pool of mud in front of her. “And most importantly, how did you get my number?”

Héctor laughed lightly, glancing at her and Aida quickly looked away. “Blimey, are you always this curious?”

“Sometimes,” she teased, but on the inside she was becoming a nervous wreck. Héctor stopped for a second; Aida did the same, feeling of anticipation growing inside of her as she waited for his answer. “Come on, Hec,” she added softly, using his nickname for the first time.

He took a step closer – his face shadowed by something else other than his boyish demeanour; something that Aida couldn’t put her finger on what it was.

“Let’s say that I suddenly got curious about magical creatures,” he finally answered – the corner of his lips moving upwards as he took a step back away, starting to walk again. “Also, you still owe me a sign language tutorial. Don’t think I forgot about that.”

It was Aida’s turn to giggle as she caught up with him. “Hate to say this, but not many birds would appreciate that kind of flirting, Héctor.”

“What about you? Would you appreciate it?” he asked nonchalantly and Aida’s breath hitched in her throat.

How can he say something like that and keep his cool?

For what seemed like ages, Aida tried to make herself breathe again. The only thing she was able to do as she tried to gain back her composure was to open and close her mouth like a fish. It certainly didn’t help that Héctor kept his eyes trained on her, smirking mischievously.

He was more than pleased with himself.

“I… I’m, ugh – idiot,” she groaned, burying her face in her hands.

Héctor chuckled, tugging at her coat sleeve, making her look up at him. “My God, you are unbelievable, but in a good way.”

Aida blushed a further shade of red as she looked at him, wishing she wasn’t because a certain type of tension was growing between them and it made her heartbeat accelerate.

“It’s all your fault,” she blurted out, quickly realising that she actually voiced her thoughts instead of keeping them inside her head. Burned with the realisation that she humiliated herself once again, she took a step back.

“Guilty as charged,” he grinned at her playfully, and all Aida wanted to do was to find a rock and hide underneath it for a while. “Y’know, I wasn’t joking with what I said about the dinner,” Héctor started, switching the subject casually as Aida managed to gain some of her confidence back – her cheeks cooling down ever so slightly, “but you still need to keep the end of your bargain.”

“And here I thought you forgot about it, silly me,” she joked back, trying to sound cool, but on the inside she was feeling the nervousness growing yet again. “What do I have to do?” Aida asked, pretending that she was ready for whatever he had in his mind.

“Kiss me,” Héctor responded nonchalantly as if he was asking her about the time or as if he was wondering if it was raining outside.

Aida swallowed – her eyes going wide for a second as her mind shut itself. She was desperately trying to find the goddamn switch, but it was in vain.

She was not ready for this.

“Fine,” she whispered, nervously sticking her hands in the pockets of her coat. “A kiss,” she repeated and Héctor nodded, looking at her with a small smile dancing on his lips as he waited. She nodded as well, more as an encouragement to herself before taking a step towards him.

Without wasting a moment, she tiptoed ever so slightly, giving him a peck on the cheek - softness of his skin surprising her for a second. Not pleased with the execution, but glad that she didn’t humiliate herself once again, she smiled, taking a step back and in the direction of the exit gates that were in front of them.

Before she knew what was happening, Héctor’s hand pulled at her arm, and Aida only blinked fast couple of times when she found herself facing him once again. He was gently pulling her closer towards him - one of his eyebrows rising slightly as he locked his eyes with hers. Aida waited for that cocky grin of his to appear on his face, but it didn’t; not this time.

She only saw moments like this in the movies and TV shows, and more than often she wondered if they existed in real life or if they were just a product of creative freedom. Whatever the case was, Aida wasn’t sure what was she supposed to feel because instead of the romantic anticipation she imagined when watching those, all she felt was a turmoil of butterflies in her stomach and a slight wave of panic rising inside of her.

Aida blushed a deep shade of red as Héctor’s arm sneaked around her waist, underneath her open coat, and for a second, she thought that her heart had stopped beating.

“For someone who knows the sign language, you really are very bad at reading them.”

“You didn’t specify— it’s not the same,” she breathed out shakily as Héctor’s other hand went up to her cheek where it settled perfectly against her jawline as he drew her in closer. The rings he wore felt cool against her burning skin as he watched her – eyes searching for a silent encouragement in hers. “Héctor,” Aida mumbled, heat rising inside of her, “whatever you’re about to do, can you just do it?”

She didn’t expect him to laugh, yet he did – throwing his head back for a second before looking back at her, and just when she was thinking that he was only teasing her, he leaned down, capturing her lips in proper kiss. The moment it happened, her eyelids fluttered close and she felt a tingle ran down her spine – her legs suddenly becoming weak. Quickly, she pulled her hands out of her pockets, sneaking them around his neck for support.

Maybe that was exactly what he was waiting for because Aida could feel him deepen the kiss, pulling her even closer.

There were moments, many of them, if she was going to be honest, when she wondered how it would feel to have his lips against hers, and now that she finally had the chance, Aida didn’t want to stop, and it scared her. Getting on her tiptoes, she brought herself closer, wanting him to know that she wanted the kiss; that she needed him to kiss her, and just as she started to relax into him, the kiss became just a gentle brush of his full lips against hers.

Much to her dismay, Héctor pulled away, and she suddenly became childishly shy, looking bashfully down at their shoes.

Do I say something now?

Is it wrong that I want to snog him again?

You just kissed Héctor, Aida.

“Much better,” Héctor smirked, giving his bottom lip a small bite as Aida glanced up at him, wondering what was going through his mind. Did he feel the same tingles as she did? Does he want to kiss her again as much as she wants to kiss him?

“Uhm—,” Aida trailed off, nervously looking away – her arms nervously swaying as Héctor took a step back while running his hand along his jaw. Aida felt a shiver of cold run through her, suddenly missing the the warmth of his hand against her face; his arm around her waist.

“Hungry?” he suddenly asked, sticking his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

Aida didn’t say anything, but nodded confusedly, closing her eyes for a second as they started walking towards the exit gate – a small but timid smile appearing on her lips.

#footballers #footballer fanfiction #Football Fanfiction #footballer imagine #football imagine #soccer fanfiction #soccer imagine #soccer oneshot #soccer imagines #hector bellerin fan fiction #hector bellerin fanfiction #hector bellerin fic #hector bellerin imagine #hector bellerin oneshot #arsenal fc fanfiction

42 notes · View notes

jpegjade · 4 years

Text

Writer’s Block - Spencer

IT HAS BEEN A LIL BIT SINCE I ACTUALLY COMPLETED SOMETHING. literally i’m jumping from job to job. i barely found time to write this lmao.

this is for the lovely anon who requested this: can we have a fic where the reader has writer’s block and spencer is helpful?

here you go anon, HELPFUL SPENCER

warnings: all fluff and a lil bit of a reference talking about weight but it’s all fluff and nothing seriously deep.

_____________

“Ugh.” You yelled, throwing your hands in the air. “This is pointless.”

Spencer was sitting at his desk when he looked up to see you having a partial meltdown on your shared apartment couch.

“Please tell me why I decided to do this. I can’t think of a single reason why anyone would go through this torture willingly.” You groaned to Spencer, who just smiled in response.

You were glad he found this so amusing because you surely didn’t think any of it was cute in the slightest.

“You’ve got a psychological inability to produce a substantial amount of content to satisfy your drive to create.” Spencer continued smiling at you.

“Cliff Notes version, please. I’m mentally spent.” You said, looking over at him.

“Writer’s block.” He said, as if he couldn’t just say that in the beginning.

“At the worst time possible.” You said, groaning again.

As an author, you were used to the words coming to you easily. There were so many ways to describe a single feeling that you just knew how to craft the language most of the time. It’s one of the many things that made Spencer fall in love with you: You crafted a world of your own through imagination and you were able to pull other people in to experience it with you. It was something special about you that set you apart from so many other writers in your genre.

Getting up from his chair, Spencer walked over to your spot on the couch to sit next to you. He put his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him.

“How far have you gotten on your story?” Spencer said, leaning over to see your laptop screen. You turned it away from him so he couldn’t see anything.

“Baby, you know I don’t like you to see my works in progress. I only want you to see things when they’re complete.” You said.

“Baby, I want to see every stage of your creativity no matter how rough.” Spencer smiled. “Maybe I can offer some advice and corrections.”

“I don’t want you to see everything bc plot holes and such. And I don’t want you to know the plot until it’s complete.” You closed your computer screen so he couldn’t see anything.

You turned to stare at him as he pulled his arm back, leaving on the back of the couch. The two of you stared at each other, both holding your own secrets.

Your secret was that you secured a book deal for a Young Adult book. While the signatures were still needed for paycheck negotiations to close, you were holding out on telling Spencer until your manager confirmed everything was official. The call could come at any minute so you were checking your phone every few minutes. You weren’t superstitious but you didn’t want to tell Spencer something before it was completely confirmed. You didn’t want to get your hopes up but more importantly, you didn’t want to disappoint Spencer. He was so proud of you for your constant writing and he loved to read your stories after you sent them to your editor for content when your story was chosen for different magazines, contests, and blogs. If you secure this book deal, it will be huge for you and Spencer, making your dream come true.

Spencer’s secret was that he was off for a month. He just got back from a case that lasted 3 weeks and before that, he was gone for the larger part of 2 months. There were a lot of back to back cases that ran right behind each other. The two of you made a sarcastic joke that it was serial killer season because it was like clockwork that these cases would come in. It was sad that so many people were hurt and killed in the process but there were countless lives saved by the team and their constant, tiring work. They needed some time off, especially with the last case draining them so greatly.

“I won’t push you but just know, I’m excited about everything you do. I’m so proud of you for being so persistent in everything. You know, the word persistent is a great word to describe you because it’s more than just the determination to accomplish a task, although many people use it in conjunction with the word. Based on the definition by the Miriam-Webster dictionary, the word persistent means to exist for a long or longer than usual time continuously. You’ve been determined to continue your writing but it’s more than that. You’ve evolved from only writing for whoever will read your work to writing for yourself. You connect with...” Spencer wanted to go on before he noticed your phone vibrating.

“Hold on, Spence. I’m so sorry.” You said, pulling out your phone.

It was a text message from your agent.

“Closed and complete. Sealed the deal. Mucho bueno mi amor.” Your agent followed that text with celebration emojis and you couldn’t look away. By calling you her love, your agent meant nothing by it any more than you called your friends your girlfriends. Your agent knew you well so she was very friendly.

Your heart was beating a mile a minute, your breathing strained. You didn’t know whether you wanted to laugh or cry, or both at the same time. It was real. It was really real. It was entirely real. A tear ended up slipping through the floodgates, quickly followed by another. Spencer immediately saw the shift in your body language before you were able to hide it.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer said, worry crossing his face. He didn’t understand how such a happy moment could go south so quickly.

“It’s not you.” You said, trying to hold back the fact that you were ready to start sobbing. You wiped the tears away and put your hands back in your lap. Fresh tears were right behind those and you weren’t going to stop them this time. You hung your head, chin barely touching your chest, watching the tears fall on your hands.

“What is it? You can tell me, lovely.” Spencer grabbed your hands from resting in your lap. His thumb immediately began gently rubbing your hands, which only made you cry harder.

Readjusting how he sat so he could pull you into his lap, Spencer was so confused and so hurt because he didn’t know how to fix it. He couldn’t fix it when he didn’t know what was wrong. He just wanted you to be okay and you seemed far from it. You fought him a little bit.

“I’m going to flatten you.” You said, finally calming down.

“Then I will be the happiest flat man alive. You won’t flatten me, lovely. You’ll put your cute butt in my lap, swing your arms around my shoulders, and hang onto me for dear life as you let go of whatever just happened. You don’t have to feel alone if you’re sad.” Spencer said.

You got up, sat on the couch next to him, and put your legs over his. It was much more comfortable that way and made you less self-conscious. He was staring at you with his puppy eyes and it melted your heart all over again.

“I have something to tell you.” You said, taking a deep breath.

“Okay…” Spencer looked concerned, stoic even. He was even a little bit scared.

“I’ve been hiding something from you and I feel so bad about it.” Tears sprang to your eyes again.

“Lovie, whatever it is, we can work through it. There are very few things in this world you can tell me that I would be upset about. I”ve seen the worst of the worst. Working out a minor bump won’t break me.” Spencer slightly smiled.

“No, no. It’s not bad. I promise it’s not.” You let out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding. “I got a book deal.”

Spencer was silent for a second before he broke out in the biggest smile you had seen from him in a while. He obviously didn’t have a problem being happy as his emotion. Joy overcame him and he gently put your legs on the ground and stood up just to kneel in front of you to cover you in kisses. He kissed every major part of your face before kissing you. A slow, gentle kiss but it still took your breath away.

“You know you’re amazing, right? You deserve this out of anyone.” Spencer held your face gently in his hands, his thumb slowly rubbing your cheek.

“I’m stuck, Spence. How am I supposed to finish the book when I can’t even finish the short story I’m writing.” You couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Maybe I can help. What’s it about?” Spencer stood up, sitting back on the couch next to you.

“It’s the story of this brilliant teacher who moonlights as a spy. Not the most original idea but it’s not supposed to be original. It’s just a short story that someone requested on my blog.” You grabbed your computer and put it back on your lap.

“So you’re writing about me.” Spencer smiled.

“You’re not a spy. You moonlight as a teacher.” You said, opening your computer. You couldn’t bear to look at Spencer’s face right now as he thought about how you were basically writing about him.

You always took character inspiration from him. He was such a big part of your life that all of your writing had hints of Spencer in them, no matter how hard you tried to leave him out of things. So it was a big deal for him to even figure out that he was largely related to this story.

“What if…” Spencer started, “You wrote about his dashing butt?” Spencer said, beaming at you.

You choked on your spit.

“What?” You said, in between coughs.

“His fabulous behind in pants. You’re always telling me how amazing I look in my black slacks. So why not write about that for fun? I’m sure your blog readers would be quite amused.” Spencer was so hilariously serious that you couldn’t stop laughing.

“Okay, fine. You win. I will put in something about your butt.” You said, turning your computer on.

“And insert something about his beautifully flowing hair.” Spencer said.

“Baby, your hair is short right now.” You said. He allowed you to cut his hair a few days ago and he missed his longer hair but he really liked when you gave him haircuts.

“I know but if he’s a badass super spy and a teacher, he needs to have versatile looks.” Spencer ran his hand through his hair, a new habit he started when you cut his hair.

“Baby, you’re going to overwhelm me with ideas.” You said, chuckling. You felt a little better about the writer’s block and the book deal the more Spencer made you laugh.

“Good. Maybe we should go on a walk and figure out more ideas. Exercise is good for ideas because your blood flow to your brain is increased. You also get mental clarity. Over the next 6 weeks, we can do that more.” Spencer quickly walked to the door to grab both of your running shoes.

Sitting down next to you, what he said finally hit you.

“Next six weeks?” You asked, putting your computer on the coffee table.

You didn’t care that all you were wearing were some cozy shorts and an old t-shirt that was way too big for you.

“Oh, I didn’t tell you.” Spencer got his right shoe on after a little bit of struggle. “I’m off for 6 weeks after the last case. We all need the break…” He said, his eyes going to a dark place for a moment. You gently touched his arm and came back to life, in the moment with you.

“So… You can help me?” Your mood got significantly better as you realized he was all yours for 6 weeks.

“Every step of the way, y/n.” Spencer said, popping up from the couch in his shoes, ready to go.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine

138 notes · View notes