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#i have not been active enough on here to know who is still writing so i just tagged who came to mind!
cowboylarries · 2 years
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last line challenge
@evilovesyou tagged me in a last line challenge and lucky for me i just got my writing mojo back so i actually have a recently written line to share!
"He wasn’t going to let some big ego dirty-mouthed shortstop get in the way of his happiness."
take a guess at what who's talking about who! this is from my baseball fic that will not see the light of day for probably another year because i'm a slow writer and want to fill this fic with so much angst
i tag @greeneyesfriedrice @alphalouis @dragmedown @thedevilinmybrain and anyone else who might be writing and want to share their progress!
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hellyeahsickaf · 9 months
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I found an extremely dope disability survival guide for those who are homebound, bedbound, in need of disability accommodations, or would otherwise like resources for how to manage your life as a disabled person. (Link is safe)
It has some great articles and resources and while written by people with ME/CFS, it keeps all disabilities in mind. A lot of it is specific to the USA but even if you're from somewhere else, there are many guides that can still help you. Some really good ones are:
How to live a great disabled life- A guide full of resources to make your life easier and probably the best place to start (including links to some of the below resources). Everything from applying for good quality affordable housing to getting free transportation, affordable medication, how to get enough food stamps, how to get a free phone that doesn't suck, how to find housemates and caregivers, how to be homebound, support groups and Facebook pages (including for specific illnesses), how to help with social change from home, and so many more.
Turning a "no" into a "yes"- A guide on what to say when denied for disability aid/accommodations of many types, particularly over the phone. "Never take no for an answer over the phone. If you have not been turned down in writing, you have not been turned down. Period."
How to be poor in America- A very expansive and helpful guide including things from a directory to find your nearest food bank to resources for getting free home modifications, how to get cheap or free eye and dental care, extremely cheap internet, and financial assistance with vet bills
How to be homebound- This is pretty helpful even if you're not homebound. It includes guides on how to save spoons, getting free and low cost transportation, disability resources in your area, home meals, how to have fun/keep busy while in bed, and a severe bedbound activity master list which includes a link to an audio version of the list on Soundcloud
Master List of Disability Accommodation Letters For Housing- Guides on how to request accommodations and housing as well as your rights, laws, and prewritten sample letters to help you get whatever you need. Includes information on how to request additional bedrooms, stop evictions, request meetings via phone, mail, and email if you can't in person, what you can do if a request is denied, and many other helpful guides
Special Laws to Help Domestic Violence Survivors (Vouchers & Low Income Housing)- Protections, laws, and housing rights for survivors of DV (any gender), and how to get support and protection under the VAWA laws to help you and/or loved ones receive housing and assistance
Dealing With Debt & Disability- Information to assist with debt including student loans, medical debt, how to deal with debt collectors as well as an article with a step by step guide that helped the author cut her overwhelming medical bills by 80%!
There are so many more articles, guides, and tools here that have helped a lot of people. And there are a lot of rights, resources, and protections that people don't know they have and guides that can help you manage your life as a disabled person regardless of income, energy levels, and other factors.
Please boost!
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sehnsuchts-trunken · 2 months
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(Don't You) Steal My Thunder
my tyler owens playlist 🤝 inspiring fic titles
Tyler Owens x fem!reader  7k words
summary: Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's set on getting you on his good side. And the more you get to know him, the less you can resist.
a/n: i had to research sm car stuff for this it's not funny. i now know exactly how to describe a truck bed though, so. that's fun.
again, my inbox is wide open <33 i don't guarantee anything, but you can always come talk to me or request smth
masterlist | twisters masterlist
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Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met.
He prints his face on t-shirts, writes his autograph on mugs, comes up with ridiculous sayings ("Not My First Tornadeo" and "If you feel it, chase it" are really just the tip of the ice berg) and most importantly, he costs you the best shots of tornadoes every goddamn time.
Tyler Owens is a problem.
And Tyler Owens seems to have actively decided to make himself a problem too.
Which would be fine, if he flipped you the bird or told you to fuck off or threw his paper towels at you. Unluckily, those are rather examples of what you have done to him. Because it's not fine, not at all - no, Tyler Owens has decided that it's not enough to be in your way all the time, he has to seek you out and rub your nose in it.
Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He's cocky and he's arrogant and he's entirely too full of himself. He brags too much and calls you "weather girl" too often. He gets under your skin more than you would ever admit.
And, as if all of that isn't enough - Tyler Owens is the very epitome of handsomeness.
It's like god didn't just have a good day when he created Tyler Owens, no, god must have still been in the post-haze of the best head he'd gotten in his whole immortal life when he'd created Tyler Owens.
Because Tyler Owens has the body of a greek god and the face of a Hollywood actor. He's not a pornstar, he's who pornstars worship. He's the Prince Charming little girls dream of and the Christian Grey grown women lust for.
Tyler Owens looks like everything you've ever wanted.
But he's just such a fucking asshole.
You wish you could say you didn't care. You'd love to be the kind of woman who didn't even acknowledge him. But you're not. You're not. You watch his videos when you can't sleep, you chuckle when you happen to overhear his jokes, you ogle his back when he's turned away from you. Sometimes, you get so lost in staring at him that you realise too late when he turns back around, and then you have to act unbothered when he grins his fucking grin at you. That's mostly when you flip him off, desperately fighting to ignore the heat in your cheeks.
Not like it stops him. You honestly feel like it only spurs him on.
Something has to seriously be wrong with him. It's not his face. But something is seriously wrong with him, you're sure of that.
Something has to be wrong with him. No sane person would ever go tornado wrangling. No hate to the rest of his crew - they're nice, you've managed to hold a few pretty normal conversations with them here and there - but none of them are sane either.
Storm chasing is different. You keep your distance. All you need are a few well-placed photographs - and those you can get from a rather safe number of miles away. The weather channel doesn't care about close-ups (not really, anyway). They want something to show the people on their comfortable couches, up in New Hampshire or Maine, so that all of them can say to each other "What poor folks, wouldn't wanna live there" and nod in pity as they switch the channel to watch another blockbuster.
You're just doing your job.
The only problem is that it's hard to do your job properly when there's always that fucking red truck in the way, driving down empty roads right into the heart of the tornado. And because no one on the news wants people to see that and go "Well, can't be too bad if there's still cars on the streets!", in the last few months - ever since you'd volunteered to move back to Oklahoma 'So that we've got someone right in Tornado Alley and don't have to fly people out there every time' - the weather channel has only shown the first few minutes of tornadoes forming. The rest of your pictures and videos lie abandoned in the trash file on your laptop. Except for a few - a very, very few, very, very good pictures of Tyler Owens and his Tornado Wranglers. But those won't ever see the light of day either.
You'd be damned if you let anyone know that while Tyler Owens is busy disturbing your actual work, you're busy taking pictures of him shooting fireworks into tornadoes. Pictures that would make for some damn good headers (if you hadn't buried them far, far down your gallery).
This time is no different. You get a few amazing shots of the tornado forming – surely an EF2, maybe even an EF3 - before you settle in the driver's seat again, your window rolled down and your camera hung around your neck as you push down on the gas. Then, a few miles further, you get even better shots of the full tornado, of the first few minutes of destruction, right there, in the middle of an empty field.
And as always, of course, just as the tornado takes on full form, you spot that familiar red truck through the lens of your camera. It speeds down the pavement right in front of where you’ve swerved onto the side of the road and you snap a few pictures, just because you’ve got the trigger right underneath your finger. Honestly, something about that dirty red paint against the grey skies just looks too good not to capture. But then the truck comes closer and closer and starts to slow down and you let your camera sink.
Tyler has his window rolled down already when he stops the car. There’s that annoyingly handsome grin on his lips, the one that makes you want to slap him across the face.
“You’re too far away, weather girl”, he calls out above the rumble of distant wind and thunder. “The good pictures are down that way.”
“The good pictures are right here.” You lift your camera at him. “Maybe you just need to update your equipment.”
Tyler’s grin widens, but before he can throw another of those obnoxious retorts your way, Lilly’s voice rings out through the car.
“Hey, T, looks like it’s changing course. You should hurry.”
His eyes are still glued to yours, still glued so firmly to yours that it makes your skin crawl. You can’t look away, couldn’t possibly look away. Tyler Owens might just be a cocky asshole, but you’re only human. And the weight of his gaze on yours is enough to keep you stuck in place, clutching at your camera.
“We’re on our way, Lilly”, he drawls without looking away from you. “See you around, weather girl.”
The rest of the pictures you take land in your trash file with all the other pictures of the last few weeks. You’re laying in bed, your laptop propped up against a pillow, the empty plate from dinner on the mattress next to you as you sort through today’s work. That’s the good thing about the time difference – you’ve got until seven to send the channel the day's results.
By nine, you’ve showered, put on a dress you feel confident in and settled on one of the chairs at the local bar. You’ve been telling yourself you need to get out a little bit more – you’ve been living here three months now and you haven’t really made any friends so far. To be fair, your job has kept you out and about most of the time. You’ve spent more hours at gas stations to fill up your tank than you have in your own home. But now you’ve decided to put an end to that. You're a young woman in a new town, you can meet more people than just the cashier at the local supermarket.
So for the past twenty minutes, you’ve been nursing a mojito at the counter and talking to the bartender. She’s nice, she’s your age, she’s extroverted enough to keep sidling up to you after every time she has to excuse herself to do her job. That, and she tells you she’s grown up here, so she knows most of the people around. She’s just serving another customer – a long-haired, brown-eyed, hat-wearing country guy who’s already shared a smile or two with you – when someone rests their arm on the countertop next to you.
“Didn’t expect to see you here”, he drawls, all low, deep Southern accent and you recognise his voice before you’ve even tilted your head up and looked at him. His grin drips down onto his words and wraps itself around your mind.
Tyler Owens isn’t just annoying – he’s unbelievable. He's unbelievable and he’s here.
“So you’re stalking me now”, you say, as drily as you can possibly manage. You've been doing that a lot around him. Dead-panning everything. Schooling your expression into fake neutrality.
"I'm here all the time, weather girl", he grins. "If anything, you're stalking me."
You snort, but it's rather unfunny when you think of all the videos you've watched, hours after they'd been livestreamed, cuddled up in your bed until midnight just to stare at his face. He's not that far from the truth.
"In your dreams, Owens", you say anyway, dragging your eyes back towards your almost empty cocktail glass. You wrap your lips around your straw and drain your drink entirely. What you say and what you do, none of that matters in the end. All of this is just show. Every conversation you've had with Tyler Owens in the last three months has been nothing but a performance. Other than your name, you don't think a single sentence out of your mouth has been honest. Not when it comes to him.
"Let me buy you a beer" is the only answer you get.
His grin widens when you look back up again - so cocky, so unbelievably cocky.
"I don't drink."
You push your glass an inch further down the bar top. Tyler raises his eyebrows. Fuck, someone really needs to kick him in the face. You can't keep having all these little heart attacks whenever he's close enough that you could touch him if you wanted.
Not that you want to.
"You're drinking right now", he says. You rest your palms against the bar top and blink at him.
"I don't drink with you."
He lets out a chuckle, one of those deep ones that settle right in your chest and make it hard to swallow.
"Just this once?", he asks and in all honesty, for just a second there, you actually consider giving in. He's too handsome for his own good. You really need to get it together. He's an ass (what an ass, goddamn). And he's insane. He's an insane ass. Sometimes you have to remind yourself of that - those times like now, when his piercing eyes and his kissable lips and his rugged stubble and his broad, broad shoulders and his drawled voice overshadow everything else.
"Don't you have some livestreaming to do?", you ask, hoping it still comes across just as sarcastic when you're the slightest bit distracted by how gloriously tight the sleeves of his flannel are. "Go chasing tornadoes, not me."
His grin widens inexplicably further. You're sure that if you were in a comic, there'd be a lightbulb flashing above his head right about now.
"Well", he drawls, "if you feel it..."
"Don't you do that shit to me, Owens."
He's raising his eyebrows again, raising his eyebrows as you clasp your hand around your empty glass so hard your knuckles turn white. But you're serious. Just as you'd lost yourself in the view of him, that angelic, sinful view of him, he'd gone and reminded you why you were so adamant to keep your distance. If you feel it, chase it. Ridiculous. Obnoxious. He's an arrogant, know-it-all, suicidal job-wrecker. He's the guy with cameras pointed at him everywhere he goes. He signs mugs and selfies and hats and shirts and bras. He's the reason you haven't gotten a single un-edited shot of a fully formed tornado in the last three months.
"You're not a fan of my catchphrase, weather girl?"
He can't even pretend to look wounded (even though he tries) with how big the grin on his lips still is. You stare right at him, dead-eyed and unflinching.
"I'm not a fan of you."
Lies slip off your tongue so easily by now that you wonder when you'd become morally compromised enough to not even care anymore. It must've happened somewhere along the way, sometime between the first conversation you'd had with him and the one you're having with him right now.
"You wound me", he grins, his palm pressed to his chest.
For the first time tonight, you allow yourself to grin back at him.
"I try."
With that, you slip off your chair and wave the bartender goodbye. You're already two steps away when Tyler calls after you.
"I'd still buy you a beer."
"I'm still not drinking with you", you call back. You don't turn around again. You just make your way back to your car and mark the evening as a half-successful night of socialising on your to-do list.
...
You see him again first thing the next day. Of course. Because there's no tornadoes without the Tornado Wranglers on their tail. By now, you're used to it. You wave at Dani as they come back out of the store at the gas station you're waiting at. They've got both arms full of coffees and for a second, you consider offering your help, but then you hear Tyler shout something out of his car and you suddenly don't feel any desire whatsoever to get up. You've sat yourself down in your truck bed, your camera slung around your neck and the radar on your lap. If all goes right, you're hoping for a tornado to form a little to the east from here. And as much as you dislike Tyler Owens, the fact that he's here soothes your nerves. Where he goes, there's sure to be tornadoes close by.
The few times you hadn't seen him had never ended well for you. You'd missed an EF3 your second week here just because you'd followed the wrong hunch. Meanwhile Tyler, of course, had been in the middle of it.
This might just be the one singular situation that you welcome seeing his red truck around. As long as you can manage to overtake him on the road after.
It's not that you need to be faster. You don't need to reach the tornado first. You don't even take the same way as him most of the time. He wants in there, you just want a sensible picture. Still, you can't help but feel a pang of disappointment every time you hit the brakes and jump out of your car, miles away from the actual cell as Tyler speeds down towards it. You've been telling yourself that it's because he ruins your pictures. It kind of is.
"Hey, weather girl!"
You let out a resigned breath as you tilt your head up and squint against the sun. He's still in his truck, his window rolled down, his elbow propped up against the car door.
"What do you want, Owens?"
Your fingers itch to reach for your camera. It's a visual, him in that fucking car, leaning out of his window with the sun peaking out behind him. But you can't, you can't take a picture of him this openly. Even if you were to argue that it's just the light you'd wanted to capture.
"To give you some advice", he calls out, his lips pulling into a grin. You raise your eyebrows at him. "East isn't gonna work out. Wind's changing. Go south."
He throws you a mock salute and hits the gas before you can say anything else.
Not that you'd been about to.
Instead you just curse to yourself, jump off the truck bed and throw your treacherous technology into the passenger seat with a little too much vigor. Fuck this. You sit at the steering wheel and stare out at the sky for exactly two seconds before you make your decision. Then you start your car and drive south.
You may not be a fan of Tyler Owens, but you've long since admitted to yourself that this man has got a gift. He has an unbeatable instinct when it comes to storms. And sure, you have your fair share of knowledge, but in the end, you're a photographer, not a meteorologist. You won't miss a day's work just because you're too proud to listen to Tyler.
You're a little further behind, but you can spot his truck and guess that he's driving straight on into the cell today, so you take a right and decide to try your luck with the side of the tornado. Not being right in its path doesn't sound too bad anyway.
You actually manage to snap a few well-placed pictures. You don't know what Tyler's doing, but it seems like he's not shooting random shit up the cell today. You'll watch the stream later - you're just the slightest bit curious now what's happening with them. Maybe they're doing some old-school chasing? Or maybe they're doing a challenge. Maybe Tyler is driving blindfolded. At this point, who knows.
It's good for you though. It's a considerable tornado today, an EF2 at least, and you only spot Tyler's red truck again when the cell moves further down the fields, away from him. It doesn't look like it's gonna disappear anytime soon. Maybe today's your lucky day.
Half an hour later, you're sure you've got at least a dozen pictures of the fully formed tornado, long touched down and without the red truck in the way.
You're just packing up your things, already sifting through the photos on your camera, squinting against the sunlight, trying to both tug the zipper of your bag closed and hit the right buttons at the same time when Tyler pulls up next to you.
"You look busy, weather girl", he says, already grinning that damn grin again.
"I am", you say - truthfully, for once. You let go of your bag and lower your camera. You're hesitant, but... "Thanks for the tip."
"Anytime", he grins. "Just do me one favour."
You already know this can't be good. Not with that cheeky look on his face. But he'd just saved you from chasing hot air (quite literally), so he deserves a little treat. And you don't want unsettled scores with Tyler Owens.
"I want to know what favour that's supposed to be before I agree", you say anyway, because with him, you can never be too careful. And in the end, you're only willing to do so much. (Though for him, you'd already do a lot more than you'd admit. A lot more than you hope he's aware of.)
"Let me buy you a beer", he says, and for once, he sounds serious.
The memory of yesterday night flashes before your eyes, of those same words at the bar. With him so close, way too close - with that grin and that stubble and that voice and those shoulders. You cross your arms and stare at him.
"If you're livestreaming this, I'm gonna sue your ass so hard."
He just lets out a chuckle and raises his hands in surrender.
"Cameras are off, I swear."
You stare at him for another silent ten or so seconds. At him in that fucking truck that looks just a little too good in your pictures. At him and his fucking face. That fucking face that you certainly wouldn't mind sitting on, if just to shut him up.
God, he's asking you to drink something with him. He's asking to buy you something to drink with him. You're stupid.
You're so, so stupid.
"Alright, cowboy", you say, uncrossing your arms and reaching for the handle of your car door. "I'll humour you."
...
You're in the bar again by nine that night, the same way you had been the day before. You're wearing a different dress and there's a different bartender, but you've ordered the same mojito and chosen the same place to sit.
Only this time, you're actively watching the door. And when Tyler strolls in, you've got to shift around in your seat and cross your legs. You don't even pretend you're not staring. You just ogle him openly. Not for the first time ever - you'd checked him out very obviously when he'd strutted towards you to introduce himself three months ago - but definitely for the first time in a while. And god yeah, he's a hunk of a man, alright. If you had your camera here right now...
But you don't. So instead, you drop your eyes to his feet (brown leather boots), drag them up his legs (blue jeans), over his chest (red checkered flannel), over his face (god, what you wouldn't give-) and finally rest them on the cowboy hat on top of his head.
When he's close enough to hear you, already grinning, of course, probably at how you're actually sitting there in the same spot as yesterday and hadn't just lied to his face about coming here, you raise your eyebrows at him.
"A cowboy hat?", you ask, your voice as unbothered as you can possibly manage (even though you're very, very, very much bothered right now). His grin only widens.
"Ladies love country boys", he drawls with a shrug.
"Now that's straight out of a song", you say. "You're getting lazy, Owens."
"A song?", he asks. "No, that's an Owens Original."
You pull your eyebrows even further up.
"Ladies love country boys? Trace Adkins?"
"Nope. Not familiar."
But his grin tells you that he's lying. He's a liar. He knows very well where he got that line from. And he knows just how easily he got under your skin with his simple trick. As if his face isn't enough already.
You just shake your head and turn away from him.
"Put your money where your mouth is, Owens. Buy me a beer."
...
Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's also a great conversationalist.
The hours fly by as you're talking. One beer turns into two, then into an uncountable number of soft drinks. You both agree that you need to drive home, neither of you is willing to risk a run-in with the police. You need your drivers license for your jobs.
Tyler talks to you about the pictures you've taken today, then about the pictures from last week. He laughs when you blame him for ruining half of them and almost spits out his coke when you slap his arm for laughing at you. He tells you about his crew, about the people they've helped with the money from their dumb t-shirt sales. You think you hate him less by the minute. You're not sure if you're okay with that. But he gets you talking about your childhood and your parents, about school and college and about how you've wound back up here in Oklahoma. That effectively distracts you.
That, and how his cocky grin morphs into a genuine smile the more you open up.
Not that you didn't love the cocky grin. You did, just a bit. As obnoxious as it was. But the way he smiles at you all sweet has you melting right in your spot.
It's not the first time you realise that beneath all that rough exterior, there beats a heart of gold. You've known what those t-shirt sales are for, that he offers food and water after a tornado hits a town, that he carries the injured out of the ruins of their houses and helps find lost dogs. The more you've been around him in the past weeks, the more you've seen of his soft side. Of the way he cares and supports. But in the end, it always is easier to go back to the status quo - to fall back onto mindless snark and fleeting first impressions.
You'd clung so desperately to the image of him as this arrogant, smug, holier-than-thou influencer god for the sole purpose of keeping your own sanity. Because you'd known that without despising him, you would fall head over heels for Tyler Owens, and you just couldn't have that.
But now, with his arm brushing against yours and his hat discarded on the bar top and his smile, that beautiful, beautiful smile on his lips...
"Five bucks", he drawls, already reaching for his wallet.
"What?"
"Five bucks says there won't be a tornado tomorrow."
You raise your eyebrows at him, your glass hovering in mid-air between the two of you. You'd meant to take a sip, but now you're setting it right back down on the bar top.
"You're shitting me."
Tyler just shakes his head. He's grinning again, but it's much softer this time around.
"The winds are looking great. The forecast says it's gonna be the best conditions for tornadoes we've seen in the last six weeks. I've heard Dexter talk about how we're probably gonna see an EF4 tomorrow", you tell him, even though you're sure he's well aware of all of it. This is Tyler Owens, for god's sake. He knows about the winds and the forecasts. He knows that his crew is making preparations already.
His grin only grows. And it's smug now. It's cocky now. It's everything you thought you'd left behind during this conversation. He looks like the Tornado Wrangler again, like the guy who fucks up your pictures and makes your job harder than it already is.
It takes you a second too long to realise why.
"Dexter said that on our live", he grins, as if he can't quite believe what he's hearing. You physically recoil from him. "Do you watch our streams, weather girl?"
"No", you breathe, rigid and frozen, shocked to your very core. No, no, no, no, this cannot be happening. This cannot be happening. You'd... You hadn't made that mistake. He hadn't got you to make that mistake.
"Dexter talked about tomorrow on our live", Tyler says again, straightening his back and grinning down at you like he's just uncovered the lost grave of Cleopatra. "Only on the live. You watched our stream."
"No", you mutter, your eyes wide and your mouth dry, so dry. You need to drink. You need to drink so badly. "No, I didn't."
"Yes, you did. You watched our stream, honey."
The petname runs down your spine and clogs your senses. Honey. Oh, he's an ass, he's an asshole! But you're on the spot, you're on the spot and he's calling you honey, honey, honey. You can't do anything but watch as he leans closer to you, grinning down at you like it's his one true purpose on this earth, like he wants to eat you alive.
"I'd say you watch our streams pretty regularly, weather girl."
You swallow hard and clasp your hand around your glass.
"Yeah?", you breathe, hoping against all hope that your voice sounds somewhat innocent. You're sure it doesn't. You know it doesn't. You probably sound as guilty as you are, but... Hope dies last. Hope always dies last. "Why would you say that?"
"Just a hunch." He shows off those pearly fucking whites for you. "Call it an instinct. I'm usually right."
He is.
He's right now. He's right usually.
Him and his fucking instinct. His goddamn gut feeling about tornadoes, always right all the fucking time. He's like an Oklahoma Jesus. The first coming of Tornado Christ.
Fuck him.
Fuck him.
"I'll take your bet." You drain your glass at once. "Give me your five bucks, Owens."
You don't think it'll work. You don't think he'll let you distract him. You don't think it'll be this easy to stop his vile teasing. He's not the type of guy to let something go. He's not the type of guy to let anything go ever. But he looks at you and he grins at you and he trails his eyes over your face and then he opens up his wallet and pulls out five dollars without another word.
He puts the bill flat on the bar top.
But when you go to reach for it, he pushes his fingers down.
"The price just went up", he says.
You raise your eyebrows and let your hand sink again. Tyler is absolutely unpredictable. You should've known.
"The price just went up?", you repeat. He nods. "What more do you want to bet?"
He's closer now, closer all of a sudden. He's too close, close enough to make your breath hitch. He's looking down at you with that cocky, cheeky grin, with his weirdly green eyes, with his three day stubble and his generally much too symmetrical face. You can't do anything but look back up at him.
"A kiss", he says. Simple as that.
A kiss.
Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He is. Truly. He's annoying and way too full of himself and much too presumptuous. Tyler Owens is the only man who would ever do something like this. The only man who'd bet a kiss on whether or not there will be tornadoes tomorrow.
Especially with that forecast.
The one that says a tornado is basically inevitable.
"Alright", you say. He may be Tyler Owens, the guy with an infallible instinct - but he is also Tyler Owens, the guy who's been doing his hardest to get under your skin. This time might not be any different. For all you know, he's bluffing to rile you up. "I'm in."
...
At eleven the next day, you're standing next to Dexter in resigned silence.
"I really thought today was gonna pan out", you mutter.
"It should have", Dexter frowns, tapping against the screen in his hands. "It should have worked out. The conditions should have been perfect. Everything's been building the last few days."
"But it collapsed this morning."
You turn your head and watch as Tyler comes to a stand next to you, arms crossed, eyes locked on the clear sky up above. He tilts his head to you and grins. Fuck, he's wearing his goddamn hat again. It's like he doesn't even try to be normal.
"Hey, weather girl", he greets. "Ready to cash out your bet?"
You shake your head at him. No, you're not giving up this easily. You never give up this easily.
"The day's not over yet, Owens. You haven't won 'til midnight."
...
You spend most of the next hours sitting in your truck bed, reading a book you'd thrown into your backseat weeks ago and had so far neglected. Lilly hands you lunch around two, Dani offers you a coffee around five and Boone pipes up here and there to joke about the wasted day. Around six, Dexter comes by to let you know they're calling it.
You still have another hour to go. By seven, it'll be too late to send your pictures anyway. But you want the hour. You need the hour.
You still haven't decided what to do about Tyler. About Tyler and his fucking bet.
He's been loitering the whole day, walking by, joking around with his crew, livestreaming a spontaneous q&a just because.
And the more minutes tick by, the harder it is to keep ignoring that you've most definitely lost the bet. Even though you do your best. You read, you check your phone. You stare at your radar. You stare at the weather forecast. You talk to Dexter and Dani and Lilly and Boone. You take a few pictures of the sky. Then you take a few pictures of Tyler, standing some feet away from his truck and looking out at the clouds.
It's only when two of three Tornado Wranglers cars are disappearing down the road, when Tyler Owens suddenly stands in front of your truck bed, that you put down your book and face reality.
"No tornadoes in sight", he says, instead of 'Hello' or 'How are you' like any other person would.
"There's still six hours left", you reason. Even if only one of those is relevant for your job today.
"You really want to wait out six hours to prove I'm right?"
"You're not right", you argue. It's fruitless, it's stupid, it's unreasonable. But... "Not yet, anyway."
Tyler raises his eyebrows at you, lets out an amused chuckle and leans against the side of your truck bed.
"Alright, so we wait."
You eye him from the side. He's fucking leaning against your truck, staring out at the sky, talking about six hours. Goddamn. He can't be serious, can he? His crew is already gone. They've disappeared into the descending sun and he's talking about waiting another six hours. Leaned against your car.
"Fuck's sake, Owens", you sigh, scooching over to the right. "At least sit down then."
You don't talk much at first. You just open your book back up again and try your hardest to ignore that he's even here at all, barely two feet away from you on the other side of your truck bed. If you stretched your leg, you'd hit him right in the hip.
It makes reading close to impossible.
Even though he's not doing anything at all. He's just sitting there, one arm propped up on the side board, that goddamn cowboy hat on his head and his feet hanging off the opened tailgate. It's almost worse that he's not doing anything.
That he's just sitting there and watching the sky change.
You give up on reading entirely when you realise that you've finished exactly five pages in half an hour. Instead, you put your book back in the car, pull out your bluetooth speaker and two water bottles and offer Tyler one of them.
You don't even ask him what music he wants to listen to. You just put on your country playlist and roll with it. By the twitch of his lips, you know he certainly doesn't mind.
Another half hour later, it's starting to get chilly and you're beginning to grow bored of the music. Tyler sitting next to you makes you fidgety, somehow, and you can't really enjoy the songs you usually love so much. So you switch to a podcast. You don't ask Tyler if he minds. He's free to go anytime.
Around eight, the sun starts to set, and the chill turns into an unpleasant cool. You hadn't really expected to be sitting out here so long. You're not prepared for the temperature to drop. You're wearing shorts, for god's sake, shorts and a top. It's summer in Oklahoma - you don't know how Tyler even manages to survive in his long jeans. You certainly wouldn't.
But now you're a little jealous, to be honest. He doesn't look cold in the slightest while you're fighting off shivers. You can feel your hands trembling already.
You really should've brought a jacket. But who brings jackets in 30 degree summer weather?
So instead, you just resign yourself to your fate and rub your hands along your arms. Anything to get some warmth into your body.
For the first time since you've sat back down, Tyler turns his head and looks at you.
"You're cold", he says, eyes raking over your arms and the goosebumps you'd gotten.
"Great observational skills, Sherlock Holmes", you deadpan, even though he doesn't really deserve that. He had so far left you pretty much alone. "A+ on that assignment."
Well, it's hard to break bad habits.
Tyler just chuckles, shakes his head and pushes off of the truck bed. You watch, eyes narrowed, as he walks back to his own car, opens up the trunk and- pulls out a blanket?
Your hands have sunken down to your lap all by themselves by the time he's standing in front of you again, holding out the blanket.
"For you, Watson", he grins as you slowly, carefully take the blanket from him. You mutter something along the lines of a soft 'Thank you' before you wrap the blanket around your arms.
Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. But he's also the very definition of "Tough on the outside, soft on the inside". Sometimes, you think the word 'angelic' works for more than just his divine looks.
Your eyes are glued to him as he sits back down next to you and looks out at the darkening sky with that signature grin on his lips, like he knows that you're watching him and enjoys it more than he should. That doesn't deter you though. For the very first time. You don't even stop staring when he turns his head back to you. You don't even stop staring then.
You just look at him until his grin crumbles. Until he's smiling that smile from yesterday night, the one that has your heart squeezing together and then exploding in your chest. You think you could stare at that smile for the rest of eternity and never feel sated.
"What?", he asks, his voice so soft it makes you swallow. Your lips part, but there's no words on your tongue, none in your throat. They're stuck in your chest somewhere, wrapped around your heart so tightly that you can't let them go even now. So you just press your lips together, wrap your blanket tighter around yourself and say:
"So I'm Watson, yeah?"
Your podcast is long forgotten by the time the sky turns dark. So dark that you make Tyler climb into your car and turn on the lights. You're comfortable in your blanket, you don't feel the need to move.
It's around ten when the blanket isn't enough anymore.
You tuck your hands underneath your top, but that only helps for so long. A few minutes later, you're trembling again, trembling even though you're pulling the blanket as tightly around you as you possibly can. Tyler raises his eyebrows when a particularly heavy shiver runs down your spine, one of those that come and go within three seconds.
"Come here", he says, shuffling in his spot and motioning for you to move over to him. You don't really think about it. It's more of a reflex as you fumble the blanket off of your body, scooch over to him, settle yourself against his side and sneak your feet under his thigh. He tugs the blanket back up to your chin, tucks it in behind your back and wraps his arms around you.
Tyler Owens wraps his arms around you.
And he's so fucking warm you literally almost moan. God, you hadn't actually realised just how cold you'd been.
"Damn, you're freezing", he notes as well, just as you nestle further into him and hum in agreement. He's like a living heater right now. You'd like to just crawl inside of him and suck up all his warmth. "You should've told me sooner."
"I didn't tell you at all", you mutter, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. He smells good. He smells so good. Earthy, musky somehow. You're tempted to turn your head and bury your nose in his shoulder.
Instead, you just satisfy yourself with what you can get. Fuck, he smells so good. He smells just like you'd thought he would, like country and rodeo and thunderstorms. He smells like falling into bed at the end of a successful chase. He smells like more. You want more.
You want more of Tyler Owens.
"Are you sniffing me?", he asks suddenly, but he sounds so amused you can't even bring yourself to feel embarrassed. You just open your eyes and grin at him, tilting your head so you can look up at him.
"What if I am?", you ask, if only to hear that breathless chuckle fall from his lips. Oh, those lips. You're in trouble. "Are you gonna call the cops on me?"
"I could never."
"Yeah, you better not, cowboy", you mutter, eyes dropping to his lips when he grins. He's so close. He's way too close. "There's like thirty things I could call the cops about on your channel."
His grin grows until he's showing off his teeth, glinting against the low light of the leds in your car. He's closer now.
"So you do watch our streams, weather girl."
His voice is so low and he's so close, so close. Your lips part all on their own. You haven't looked back up at his eyes in too long. Far too long. But he's so close, and he's so warm, and he smells so good.
"Alright", you whisper. His mouth is barely an inch from yours. You can feel every breath he takes. "I watch your streams."
And then your lips are on his.
Tyler Owens is the most annoying man you've ever met. He's cocky and he's smug. He makes your job harder than it has to be. He does everything and anything to get under your skin. But Tyler Ownes is the best goddamn kisser this side of the globe.
He trails his hands, his big, big hands, down your sides, pushes the blanket out of the way and grabs at your waist with just enough firmness. He pulls you onto his lap and rests his thumbs over the hem of your top. He breathes into your mouth and takes it slow. He doesn't care that you almost knock his hat out of the way when you try to wrap your arms around his neck. He just holds you tightly to him and lets you tug on his lip.
You honestly don't know how much time has passed when he pulls back, grinning an entirely new grin at you, hazy and euphoric.
"It's not midnight yet", he mutters, the slightest bit out of breath.
"I don't care", you mumble, drawing him right back in for another kiss. You think you might be addicted. You simply can't get enough of him. You can't get enough of Tyler Owens.
But then a thought strikes you, and you pull away with a grin that makes him raise his eyebrows.
You chuckle against his lips.
"If you feel it, chase it, right?"
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strwberri-milk · 3 months
Note
Hi, good morning/ afternoon/ evening. I've probably read all of your work on LnD, and I love them all. If it's not too much, can I request like the boys getting a call/update from MC after a disastrous wanderer attack on the city after not being able to contact them?? If possible, established relationship😅 ... thank you for your time!
im glad you like all my writing for them!! im so aefjaweofaw please give me the next main story update - also theres lots of references/imagery of death so if youre not chill w that i will see you tomorrow [salute] - theres also some very very slight references to their myths!! it feels a little ooc to me but thats bc. i think theyd be a little ooc when faced w a tragedy like this!! i hope you like it anyway <3
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Zayne holds his breath every time a new patient is admitted. The hospital is busy with all of the patients that are coming in with the disaster, a mixture of those hanging on and people running up to him because he's the closest doctor in the vicinity to confirm death.
He volunteered himself to do triage because he was convinced that he'd be able to stop you from dying, that if you came in through those doors he'd be able to separate his love for you from the mind that studied all those nights but that's impossible - he only got here because of you.
His mind runs circles around himself, almost separated from his body as he tries to figure out why you weren't there. Hopefully it's because you're fine - you don't need medical attention or the medics on site were enough for you. However, he knows there's an equal chance that it's just because a doctor onsite was able to confirm your death and now you were in some bag, stored away with the others waiting for him to come identify you.
When he finally gets a moment to himself he obsessively checks his phone, praying to something that might take enough pity on him to listen at the very least that you'll call him. Minutes turn to hours as he's called back to work. Silence is a commodity now as he's stuck in the theatre, only able to go home after he's exceeded the legal amount of hours he's allowed to work in one night.
The long turned cold water hits his muscles as his mind wanders in the quiet of his home. You still haven't called - nobody's called. He understands that surely, all of you are busy but he's been there when the calls have had to be made. To hear the sobs on the other side of the phone as a squad captain confirms the death of another hunter as they softly ask if they'd like to see the body. He's also seen the calls when the bodies are far too mangled, a sight that no loved one should have to bear. He's waiting for it, almost falling in his haste to grab his phone once it finally rings.
Your number pops up, the letters of your name taunting him as he tries to answer it. He's about ready to throw his phone on the ground from the water on his hand refusing to make picking up the call an easy feat.
"Hello?" Zayne asks, an uncharacteristic shake in his voice.
"Zayne! I'm okay!" you say, voice sounding a little weak but definitely better than he could have ever anticipated.
"Zayne? Honey? Hello?" you ask when you're met with only silence, now beginning to grow anxious yourself. You knew he must have been busy - you were too - and you thought he was safe. He should have been, you'd heard no reports of the hospital being attacked.
"You're alive," he chokes out, falling to his knees.
"Of course I am! Things have just been chaotic so I haven't had enough time to call you until now," you explain, continuing to talk to him.
You hear rustling on the other side of the phone, trying to get his attention again before he cuts you off.
"Where are you right now? Home?"
"Oh - yeah I'm on leave now. Most of us who were in active duty are to let his recuperate. How come?"
"I'll be there soon."
He hangs up immediately, leaving you a little stunned. You decide to clean up a little, having nothing else to do really until he comes over. Zayne never acts this impulsively so you assume that the day with no contact really wore on him.
Once he arrives you open the door for him, planning to apologise for the lack of contact when he almost throws himself at you. You hold him back just as tightly, a little shaken yourself as you close the door after him. You realise that for whatever reason he's soaking, unsure if you should confront that but you decide to ignore it.
He leads you right to your couch, too exhausted to even find your bedroom as he buries himself against your chest. It's not the normal way he lays with you - typically he likes to hold you - but you know not to bother him now. You can't deny you were worried about him too, knowing he probably put in a bunch of overtime at the hospital.
He holds onto you tightly, measuring out the beat of your heart. It's the only way he can remind himself that you're still alive, that the two of you have one more day together.
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Xavier has never felt like he wanted to die more than in this moment. One minute you were running with him, trying to stop the Wanderer from attacking the group of civilians the next you're totally gone. Logically, he knows you're most likely fighting a Wanderer by yourself and you can handle it but somewhere he's convinced you'll die without him at your side. You've proved yourself more than capable but he worries about you all the time - he knows how to fight these things, he's been fighting them for far longer than you have - and if you died here he'd have no more reason for living.
He practically goes beserk, tearing into each and every creature with the hopes that one of them can take him to you. With each failure he starts to spiral, standing atop a pile of rubble as he watches the recovery teams start to spread into the city. It practically took an entire squadron to force him to go home, promising him that he'd be the firs t to hear once they found you.
You were diligently following Xavier when you noticed another Wanderer going after a child. You knew that he'd panic once he couldn't find you but you couldn't just abandon them. You tried to tell him you'd be splitting off but over all the screams and screeches he couldn't hear you and you couldn't waste any more time trying to get his attention.
You were able to defeat the Wanderer but not before sustaining an injury that made it too difficult for you to continue active duty, taking the child to a safe spot and staying with them until help arrived. You ended up passing out from the pain shortly thereafter, waking up a day later to Tara in your face heaving a sigh of relief as she called for a doctor to come check on you.
Your body was simply fatigued and after an extra day of monitoring and ensuring you were receiving everything you needed to make sure you wouldn't collapse again when you get home. You nod, knowing what procedure is at this point. You reach out for your phone once the doctor leaves, knowing that Xavier must be worried out of his mind.
You're right, of course. He's laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling as he waits for someone to call him. He saw the scale of disaster this attack was, knows that everything is absolutely awful and he's not the only one waiting for news but every minute that passes is another minute you could be trapped, praying that he's coming there to save you.
He decides to ignore the strict orders he's gotten, suiting up to go help the recovery efforts. He was going bad staying in bed all day, unable to get a wink of sleep as pictures of your suffering flash across his tortured mind. Working on pulling valuables and any remnants of life is depressing on a good day but right now it's downright torturous. He can't help but think that the next thing he pulls out is going to be your hand, severed far from your body.
When his phone rings everything disappears. He quickly picks up, steeling his expression to avoid making things worse should someone look over at him. He doesn't even notice who called him, just hoping that it was someone with news.
"Oh! You picked up fast. Are you just sitting at home then?" you ask casually, so casually he thinks it's almost cruel. How could you act so nonchalant about the fact that you held his life in your hands, that you are the only thing in this world he can bear to wake up for?
"No, I'm helping the recovery efforts despite orders. I...it was too quiet at home," he offers as an explanation and you hum. He can imagine you nodding, tapping your chin as you think to yourself.
"If you missed me you could have just said so," you tease, hoping that the ease in your voice will make him relax.
"Of course I did. Is that even a question? Are you able to take visitors?' You know what, doesn't matter. I'll just wait there until you are. I'll see you soon love."
He hangs up quickly and you know that he'll appear in the hospital within the next two seconds with that uncanny ability of his. You straighten yourself out a little, knowing that you were injured but not wanting to look like a total mess.
You can hear his footsteps running up to your door, slamming it open as he catches his breath. You've never seen him out of breath before - maybe he's much more tired than you initially thought.
"You made it," you laugh, making a slight sound from the impact of him practically jumping at you, holding you tightly as he buries his face into your neck.
"I was worried about you," he says softly, looking up at you. "I thought you'd been hurt, badly. And I wasn't there to protect you."
You sigh, helping him sit down into the chair at your bedside. You offer him your hand which he holds gratefully, never taking his eyes off of you.
"I know. I'm sorry. But look, I'm okay now, aren't I?"
He ignores the pain in his chest, trying not to imagine how heavy your hand would feel in his if you really had drawn your last breath. That weight is far too familiar to him, haunting his every thought in the hours that passed between then and now.
"You are. And I'm going to make sure you stay that way," he promises.
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Rafayel didn't even know there was an attack until far after it. He knew you were working and that sometimes, you'd accidentally go MIA. You'd already texted him before your mission anyway and then he got drawn into another project of his and completely lost track of time. It's not until the next day that he finally sees his phone and the message from Thomas telling him not to come into the city for supplies for a day or so.
He immediately starts looking through articles, scouring pages that are constantly updating the death toll in search of your face. He curses himself for not paying attention earlier - every minute he wasted on some stupid was another minute you could have spent at Death's door, all because he allowed himself to forget that nothing matters if it's not you.
It's obsessive the way he looks through all of them, calling your phone non stop all the while. Every time he gets sent to voicemail he feels his breath get knocked out of his lungs, resorting to blowing up your phone with texts. When it's clear you aren't replying he grabs his keys to drive into Linkon despite Thomas' suggestion, knuckles white on the steering wheel as he heads to the hospital.
Even in all the chaos people can't help but stare a little as Rafayel makes his way to the counter, demanding someone tell him where you were. He's really trying not to be a brat, promising you that he'd be nicer to people but when it's your life on the line everything is up for debate. He goes through any and every possibility, figuring out what he can do to guarantee your survival.
Unfortunately for him, he gets escorted out. Jenna tries to calm him down, telling him that he'd be the first to know if they had any updates on you. Right now everything was just far too messy to know anything about anyone and there was a good chance that you were just being treated at a different hospital than usual due to the high causality count. He doesn't take no for an answer and manages to strong arm the name of the other hospitals you could have been sent to, starting up his car again right as his phone lights up with your name.
"What do you think you're doing not answering your phone?!" he yells, making you flinch.
Rafayel's never been mad at you, certainly not to this extent but you know that it's because he's anxious. He immediately catches himself too and you hear it, catching the sound of his hands against his steering wheel as he takes a deep breath.
"I'm sorry. Just - where are you?" he asks, sounding so exhausted that you feel like crying.
"I'm okay Rafayel," you say instead, adding the name of your hospital. He's immediately driving over as you talk to him, keeping your voice even.
"I was split up from the group is all, then triaged at a different hospital. I'm fine though - I managed to just sprain my wrist from overexertion so I'll have a sling for a bit-"
"You're staying with me then. I'm not having you stay alone with a broken wrist. Knowing you you'd do something dumb and make it worse," he scoffs, trying his best to drive safely to see you again. You don't bother to correct him, knowing that's the least of your worries.
You fall quiet, not sure how to respond. Rafayel has always been good at masking how he feels, rarely showing you what he's hiding behind his mask. Now he's an open book, making it clear that nothing will be okay until he sees you again.
"Okay," you agree, leaning further back into the pillows of your hospital bed. "They wanted me to be released into the care of someone if I could anyway. That's why I was calling you - that, and trying to return all your missed calls."
"Thank you," he says so quietly you barely hear him over the sound of his car.
"Of course my love," you say just as softly. "I knew you'd worry as soon as you saw the news."
Another moment passes between the two of you. Rafayel thinks his heart fell out of his chest - or it would have if it was still his to hold. Instead, it's beating firmly in your palm, only able to do so under your affections.
"Rafayel, I'm really fine, I promise. I'm just hungry. Let's get something for dinner, yeah?" you offer, hoping to redirect his energy.
"Yeah," he replies, exhaling deeply.
"Anything you want my beloved. Just name it and it's yours."
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wileys-russo · 6 months
Text
filling the void (3) II a.putellas x sister!reader
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prequel one two
since you all wanted to be hurt so bad here is more angst! and for the sake of the broken and left behind younger sibling support club, a little comfort and some steps forward too - song i listened to when writing was we might be dead by tomorrow by Soko! filling the void (3) II a.putellas x sister!reader
after your outburst it worried eli to watch you retract into yourself, and for an entire week bar going to work you hardly left your room.
something out of character for someone like yourself who since your sisters decided they didn't want to spend time with you anymore, had thrown yourself head first into social activities with people who did.
you still saw your friends at work and when they drove you home or picked you up for a shift, but you had a variety of excuses to avoid the dinners or hang outs you were invited to outside of that, alarming not only eli but also your friends now.
your friends had all of course been filled in on the discourse of your apparent abandonment, having assured you time and time again that it wasn't your fault.
they spent time affirming to you that it was just an unfortunate side affect of the large age gap which wasn't something you had any control over. they all did their best to make you feel supported in your emotions whilst also encouraging you not give up on the relationship with your sisters entirely.
something that probably would have benefited both alexia and alba to know, at first feeling sorry for themselves after your outburst. this was then channeled into a disapproval for these new older friends you kept close.
guards went up from both of your sisters about how these strangers were trying to replace their space in your life, they were your older sisters not these new girls hanging around.
eli had all but banned alba and alexia from coming over throughout the week following your explosion at them, warning you needed space and time and that the more they pushed you the further away you'd pull, case in point your outburst in the first place which had spawned from both of them going at you too hard and too fast.
but when the weekend rolled around and still you made no move to leave the comfort of your bedroom or the family home eli decided maybe it was time she step in a little, unable to see any change in your antisocial behaviour unless she offered a somewhat forceful helping hand.
"hija." you looked up from a book your head was buried in with a raised eyebrow. "i am going to watch alexia's game soon." eli started as you noted she was dressed in a barcelona jersey with alexias name and number proudly on the back.
"okay." you nodded with a small frown of suspicion, unsure why she was really telling you this and sensing maybe there was more to it.
"you should come with me." the woman continued encouragingly with a warm smile. "are you asking me or telling me mami?" you questioned with a sigh making the older woman chuckle.
"telling. you have not left the house all week nena and i am worried about you." her voice softened the last few words as you sighed. "mami i'm fine! i am going to see my friends tomorrow night." you promised as she hummed.
"really? that is good then." eli smiled happily as you hummed. "sí, they said if i did not come willingly they would break in here and kidnap me, so i didn't really have a choice." you sighed making your mami chuckle.
"bien. now get dressed we leave in ten minutes!" eli clapped as you made a face. "wait i still have to come?" you asked with a small groan as she nodded. "sí, i was telling not asking." the woman smiled as you groaned again but snapped your book shut.
and sure enough ten minutes later you were following her out the door albeit begrudgingly, your airpods confiscated the moment you tried to put them in, deflating even further as you slid into the car.
"don't look so miserable fresa, watching one football match will not kill you." eli chuckled throwing the car into reverse as you sighed dramatically. "i could only dream of being so lucky." you mumbled sliding on a pair of sunglasses.
"why are we here?" you questioned a little anxiously as you recognized the street she turned down a little while later. "picking up your hermana, she is also coming." eli spoke with a slight air of caution, glancing to you as you frowned clearly a little lost in your thoughts.
"mi hija i know your sisters have really hurt you i am not dismissing that, and i will not push you any further then you are ready to when it comes to letting them fix it. but you are all still my daughters and i enjoy spending time with all of you, together." eli tried to put it as gently as she could as you sighed but nodded none the less.
when you didn't say anything further eli didn't prompt you to do so, waving at alba who locked up her place behind her and made her way to the car, surprise flickering clearly across her face seeing you sat in the front seat.
"hola mami." your sister slid into the back, leaning forward and kissing eli's cheek, contemplating for a brief second whether to greet you in the same way but thinking better of it and settling back in her seat.
"hi fr-hermana." alba was quick to catch herself, eli flashing her a small smile through the rear view mirror as you hummed and mumbled back a greeting, gaze trained out the window.
you zoned out of the conversation which followed the duration of the drive to the stadium, alba trying a couple of times to include you but when she only received one word replies she recognized that was likely doing more harm than good and ceased her efforts.
you stuck out a little once you all arrived, finding your seats in the friends and family section and you were one of the only spectators sat without a jersey on.
you of course had more than enough to choose from. as you grew up alexia had gifted you with countless jerseys both for spain and barcelona.
some she'd played in during important games and wanted you to have over anyone else, and some were just spares, getting most of your immediate family members the latest kits as soon as they dropped.
but when you'd stopped bothering to go to her games you had assumed this ceased. but unbeknownst to you alexia had a whole horde of jerseys at her home for you, but at her own fault barely having spent much time with you had disallowed her to be able to gift them to you.
so even though you could have easily worn a barcelona jersey, you were still upset with both of your sisters. so to wear alexia's name and number on your back felt a little too close to home for the time being which eli had respected enough not to bring up when she'd noticed.
you'd managed to busy yourself with your phone for a good half an hour, sat on one side of your mami as alba sat on the other, the two engaged in their own conversation that your anti social behaviour prompted you not be involved in.
but everything changed when eli stood to use the bathroom before kick off, alba then taking it upon herself to slide across one seat now sat right beside you causing a small sigh to drop from your lips.
"hermana." alba started gently and you recognised where she'd be angling this conversation from the soft tone of her voice.
"alba por favor i really do not want to talk about the other night, i do not even want to be here." you exhaled honestly, watching the warm ups on the pitch and avoiding her eyes.
"then why did you come?" your sister asked curiously, propping her arm over the back of her chair to rest her head on her fist. "mami made me." you grumbled in annoyance crossing your arms across your chest with a frown.
"so you don't have a curfew and go out at all hours of the night doing whatever you want with her permission but mami can still make you come to ale's games?" alba spoke as your head whipped around to snap at her though seeing the teasing smile on her face you realized she wasn't serious.
"sí." a small smile crept onto your lips which disappeared quickly. "saw that." alba commented quietly, turning her eyes back to the pitch as yours rolled.
thankfully before you were subjected to anymore small talk eli returned, but to your dismay alba didn't move seats and instead was now sat still beside you as eli sat on her other side.
when warm ups finished alexia's eyes drifted to the crowd, spotting olga sat with a few friends and waving before looking for her family. she spotted eli with a grin, waving again as alba did the same and for a moment alexia's eyes glanced over you without a second thought.
but then they snapped right back and widened in shock, not having seen you at a game for a long time now she hadn't even realised the figure sat beside alba was you.
"mami made her come!" alba mouthed giving the captain a subtle thumbs up as you missed the entire thing, attention focused on your phone.
catching eli's eye next alexia mouthed a thank you as the older woman smiled and gave a curt nod, alexia hurrying off to follow after the team to the change room.
upset with her or not and no matter how long it had been since you were at estadi johan cruyff there was no denying your sister was a force to be reckoned with on the football pitch, and she was enigmatic to watch play.
just before she was subbed off in the second half alexia lined up near the goal when caro stepped up to take the corner, delivering the ball in perfectly for your sisters head to knock it into the back of the net.
you looked around as the crowd errupted, chanting alexia's name as you of course clapped her goal though without quite as much enthusiasm as those around you.
you watched your sister turn toward where the three of you were sat and make a weird signal with her hands, blowing a kiss at your mami before racing back for kick off.
"you saw that, sí?" alba nudged you with a grin as you gave her an odd look. "qué?" you questioned a little confused as to what you were supposed to have been looking at.
"ale's celebration. E, A, F." alba recreated it with her own hands as the strange look didn't drop from your face and your older sister rolled her eyes.
"e-" she pointed at eli beside her. "-a-" she pointed at herself. "-f." she pointed to you as it clicked. "oh." you mumbled, dropping your sunglasses down over your eyes and remaining quiet for the duration of the match.
"can i go wait at the car?" you asked hopefully, glancing to eli as the stadium had now mostly cleared and the girls friends and families were making their way down to the pitch to greet the team on their six to nil win.
"no, stay where i can see you please hija there are a lot of people around still. i think you should come say hi to your hermana, but i will not push you." eli squeezed your shoulder with a gentle smile as you nodded, staying in your seat as she headed down to the barrier where alexia was already speaking with olga and alba.
you pulled your knees up to your chest and sighed, doom scrolling through your social media's to try and pass time as you attempted to ignore the internal battle your mind was having whether to go greet your sister or not.
"well well well, hola diablillo." you jumped a little in shock as a new body dropped down into the seat beside you, sunglasses snatched from your face and placed onto her own as you couldn't help but grin.
"you are so annoying maría give them back!" you laughed reaching for them as she clicked her tongue and pushed your hand away each time you reached to take them back.
"no i think i will keep them, they look better on me anyway no?" mapi teased before pulling you into a hug. "it has been some time since we've seen you here diablillo." mapi's voice was a little softer now and you weren't sure if alexia had filled her in at all on what had happened lately.
"sí, i have been busy." you shrugged dismissively making mapi chuckle. "ohh because you are so grown up now, just a little worker girl hm? too grown up to slum it with your sisters friends at a football match." mapi teased pinching and pulling at your cheeks playfully.
as you caught up with the older girl who seemed in no rush to go greet the rest of her teammates you were too occupied to feel alexia's eyes where she watched on from the barrier.
eyebrows furrowing and a strange feeling twisting in her stomach at the way you easily conversed with her best friend, rough housing around with her and laughing, just like how you used to with alexia.
"amor." olga's hand caught her wrist as she jumped the barrier to head up toward you, giving her girlfriend a slight look of warning as alexia tugged her hand away.
"i am just going to say hi." alexia promised as olga still looked unsure but nodded, turning around as someone called her name and alexia headed off up into the stands.
"you know diablillo you are nearly old enough for some of these of your own, maybe you come over and i will bust out my gun sí?" mapi grinned wolfishly, showing you a few of her new tattoos.
your eyes lit up in awe as they traced the deep inkings which wrapped around the older girls limbs, the exact same way they had as a child when you first laid eyes on her.
"i don't know how our mami would feel about that maría, stop being a bad influence." alexia's tone was teasing but she didn't miss the way your entire body seemed to tense at her arrival, mapi grinning up at her best friend none the less.
"me? capitana i would never." mapi gasped, standing to her feet and messing up your hair before handing you back your sunglasses. "you call me and we can talk more about it. adios diablillo!" mapi addressed you now with a wink, messing up your hair before making her way down to where ingrid was waiting, the tall norweigan sending you a kind smile and a wave which you returned.
"hola." alexia recaptured your attention now, your body stiffening as she sat down beside you, your sister frowning a little as you leaned your body away from hers just slightly.
"did you enjoy the match?" alexia asked, cautious of her every word as you nodded. "sí, it was a good win." you acknowledged, resting your chin on your knee as your fingers drummed anxiously against your thigh.
"i am glad you came, i have missed seeing your face in the stands." alexia's next words sent a strange feeling through you. "you didn't even notice i stopped coming." your words came out before you could stop them, alexia deflating a little as still you refused to look at her.
"fresa-lo siento hermana." alexia was quick to correct, trying her best to remember snippets of what you said the other night. "i know i did not and i really really want to-" she couldn't even finish her sentence before you shot to your feet.
"i need to go to the bathroom." you were gone before alexia could blink, scrambling away like a startled deer as your sister sighed and tiredly dragged her hands down her face.
there was a soft touch to her shoulder and she glanced up to see her girlfriend looking down at her sympathetically. "no luck?" olga winced slightly as she sat down and alexia shook her head.
"i barely said two words and she was gone. she looked terrified, and of me!" alexia struggled to get out with another deep sigh as olga rubbed her back.
"we talked about this ale, slow. fresa needs time and i know you want to fix it cariño but you have to let her come to you, she needs to want to fix things." olga reminded softly as alexia nodded, kissing the girls cheek appreciatively before the two of them stood and made their way back down to the pitch.
your airpods finally returned to you they were quickly stuffed in your ears as you allowed alba the front seat and slipped into the back, swaying your head a little to the music bouncing around your head as eli drove home.
you were snapped back to attention as someone tapped your knee, pausing your music and pulling one of them out, alba having turned around from the front to smile at you as you were now stopped outside her house.
"would you want to get breakfast tomorrow?" your older sister asked careful not to come on a little too strong but it was hard not to miss the hopeful look in her eye.
"i have plans already." you declined as your sister nodded in understanding. "maybe another time then." she squeezed your knee quickly and kissed your mami's cheek goodbye, thanking her for driving before she was gone.
"are you going to get in the front nena or make me drive you home like a taxi?" eli caught your eye with raised brows making you grin, unbuckling yourself and moving to the front seat, your door closing and belt re-buckling before she drove off.
"i thought your friends were kidnapping you tomorrow night?" eli hinted subtly as you looked out the window and hummed. "they are." you confirmed with a small nod.
"do you have other breakfast plans then?" "no." you sighed, sensing some sort of lecture might follow.
"i'm not ready yet mami." you added on honestly, still trying to come to terms with it all and what you thought was best for you going forward now you had some time to process everything.
"fair enough fresa, take all the time you need. but know your hermana's do love you, very very much."
~
"this is nearly done, go choose something to watch." eli nodded as you moved off the stool you'd been sat on and headed toward the living room, clicking on the tv.
"something funny? a love story? action movie?" you called out as you flicked through the genre's. "mami do you have a pref-" you glanced toward her right as there was a loud clatter and your eyes widened.
"mami! estás bien?" you were by her side in an instant, the older woman clutching her chest and rapidly shaking her head as you panicked. "mierda!" you fumbled around in your pockets, pulling out your phone and calling for help.
you rattled off quickly what was happening, your anxiety sky rocketing as suddenly the older woman fell to the ground still clutching at her chest as the medical officer on the other end of the line calmly told you an ambulance was dispatched and talked you through what to do.
"mami? mami? mami!" you repeated, struggling to breathe yourself as suddenly the older womans eyes closed and she went limp and unresponsive. the operater encouraging you stay on the line and assuring the ambulance would be there any second now.
"i don't know if she's breathing!" you cried out, unsure how to check for a pulse as rapid knocks were heard at your door and you forced yourself away from eli's limp body, two paramedics barreling in the moment you unlocked the door.
the operator now hanging up a third paramedic gently assured you were doing all the right things and eli needed to go to hospital, promising you that she was still breathing as you nodded.
"is your papi here querida?" the paramedic asked softly as you watched them carefully load your mami onto a stretcher. "he's dead." you replied bluntly, panic peaking as the other two spoke so fast you couldn't understand but they were saying but you knew it was serious.
"venga, go get your shoes and you can ride with your mami in the ambulance." the older woman squeezed your shoulder with a kind smile, repeating the words and shaking you lightly when you remained rooted in spot watching them push the stretcher into the back of the ambulance.
your worry only continued when no one could really give you any answers, only repeating you would be at the hospital soon as they lowered an oxygen mask onto eli and spoke to one another in what felt like a second language over her head.
it was worse when you finally did arrive to the hospital, your mami wheeled off and out of sight as you panicked when you were informed you couldn't go with her and would need to sign it at the front desk and wait in emergency for further information.
"how old are you cariño?" the receptionist asked carefully when taking down your information. "seventeen." you replied, eyes straying every few seconds to the doors eli had been wheeled away into as if willing she would miraculously walk back out and all would be fine.
"you need to be over eighteen to be an emergency contact and sign the paperworker for your mami. is there anyone else who could come?" the lady asked as you sighed but nodded, knowing exactly who you needed to call as you excused yourself and pulled out your phone.
"alexia? algo malo sucedió, i need you."
~
alexia thanked the gods that she wasn't caught by police as she flew down the streets of barcelona going easily double the speed limit, barely saying two words to olga before she had her keys in hand and was sprinting out the door already on the phone to alba.
finding a park she locked her car and raced across the lot, chest tightening as she stepped into the emergency department, eyes scanning the waiting room before finally spotting you.
you'd always been shorter than her but sat on the chair in the waiting room drowned in a hoodie which was two sizes too big and staring off into space you looked positively tiny in alexia's mind.
you jolted and tensed up as arms were thrown around you, alexia noticing right away and letting go trying not to focus on how much it pained her that even in the current situation you couldn't hug her.
"you have to go fill in the admission paperwork at the front desk." you mumbled with a nod, refusing to even look her in the eye as you tucked your knees to your chest resting your chin on them.
spotting alba over your shoulder alexia caught her eye and stepped away toward the front desk leaving you with her, glancing repeatedly to the two of you every few seconds as she filled in the necessary documents.
"someone will be out later with more information." was the only answer she got when asking for an update on eli's condition, frustrated but knowing that now all you could all do was wait.
"hermanita what happened?" alexia crouched down in front of you as alba sat beside you, you shifted a little uncomfortably under the intensity of their stares but sighed.
"i don't know. mami was making dinner and everything was fine, i stepped away to find something for us to watch and i looked over when she dropped something and she was just grabbing at her chest-" you began to recount, your sisters hanging off your every word.
"-she couldn't speak she didn't even yell out or cry in pain or anything she was just silent but she looked terrified. then i called the ambulance and she fell down and her eyes closed and she went limp, i didn't know if she was breathing." you exhaled shakily and paused for a second before continuing.
"she didn't respond to anything i said or did she just laid there. and then the paramedics came and put her on a stretcher and we went in the ambulance and came here. then they wheeled her off back there and wouldn't tell me anything because i'm not eighteen." you puffed out air through your nose at that last part.
"they wouldn't tell me anything either, just said someone will be out with more information later." alexia sighed wearily, standing to her feet and sitting on your other side.
"oh fresa." alba started sympathetically, stretching an arm across your shoulders intending to draw you into her side but you shrugged her off. "please don't touch me." you muttered, your sisters sharing a concerned look over your head.
"hey nena we just-" alexia tried next, her hand which sat on your leg pushed away as you wordlessly stood and moved to a different row of chairs on the other side of the room sitting back down.
"just give her some space ale, she's clearly shaken up." alba stopped alexia where she stood to follow you. "even now she runs away like she's scared. mierda we're in the hospital!" alexia snapped as alba pulled her into a hug.
"she's not scared of you alexia she's just hurt, and we both know she has every right to be." alba reminded as the older girl exhaled and sunk back into her chair with a nod, both of them watching you cautiously as you seemed on another planet just looking off into space.
"segura?" around an hour later an official looking woman in scrubs and a clipboard called out, both of your sisters up and on their feet as you were quick to follow.
"daughters?" the woman clarified as you all nodded.
"your mami went into mild cardiac arrest, she's mostly stable but still out while we run some more tests to try and determine the cause. her heartbeat is quite irregular and she's having trouble breathing on her own so we've got her hooked up to a ventilator." the woman explained reading off her clipboard.
"can we see her?" alexia asked hopefully, deflating at the shake of head that followed. "she's in the coronary ward but she's being taken for some more tests soon. once we get the results of these initial ones she's just had someone will come speak to you, but all three of you don't need to be here." you frowned as that last sentence was clearly directed your way.
"gracias but we will all be staying." alexia stepped up protectively, the woman nodding before she stepped away and alexia rolled her eyes. "hey, have you eaten?" alba suddenly realised looking at you as you shook your head.
"vamos, the cafeteria should still be open." alba encouraged as you made no move to argue with her, tucking your hands into the pockets of your hoodie and nodding.
"go call olga. do you want a coffee?" alba checked as alexia nodded appreciatively, all three of you parting ways. you seemed lost in your own head as you arrived to the cafeteria, alba bumping you gently with her shoulder and nodding for you to pick something.
anxious and uptight you simply chose a sandwich, not really wanting to eat but knowing your sister well enough that if you didn't pick something she'd just pick for you.
"coffee?" alba offered as you shook your head, quickly paying for your sandwich before she could. "hey! i would have gotten that." your sister shoved you lightly as you shrugged, alba relieved when you didn't complain about the slight touch. "i have money." you replied dismissively, moving to take a seat while alba waited for their coffees.
it would seem you were hungrier than you realised as you polished off the sandwich in a few bites, finishing right as alba grabbed the coffees and you stood to follow her back to the waiting room, grateful she wasn't trying to push a conversation.
you took your seat again on the other side of the room to your sisters, missing the way their eyes raked over you with concern at how you stared blankly off into space, not a hint of emotion present in your features.
you of course were plagued with emotions, especially a growing anxiousness toward all the 'what ifs' which came with your mami's hospitalization and all the unknown details.
but determined to prove once and for all you weren't a baby anymore you'd bottled these feelings up, keeping them under lock and key in your own mind as you did your best not to let them show.
though as more time passed that anxiety grew and grew and grew and suddenly you couldn't seem to rid your brain of all the worse case scenarios racing around on repeat, sending your body into a sort of shock as you blocked out the world around you.
shaking your head and trying to zone back in you stood, needing a drink of some sorts and remembering having passed a vending machine on your way back from the cafeteria.
alexia watched you go with a small frown, alba having somehow fallen asleep in the hard chair next to her as the time was now nearing midnight and still they'd had no further news.
the overprotective older sister in her told her to call olga and have her come pick you up and take you to their home, though the slightly quieter but more rational side knew if she even suggested that it would only upset you and you'd refuse.
when a few minutes passed and you didn't return alexia grew a little worried, shaking a grumpy alba back awake and shoving half a cold coffee into her hand before following after you.
you glared at the vending machine in annoyance as again you tapped your phone to pay and punched in the numbers for the drink you wanted but it made no move to deliver it to you.
"vamos!" you shook it hoping that might help though to no avail as again nothing happened. trying another two times you were getting dangerously close to a breakdown as all of your bottled up emotions simmered on the surface and you gave the machine a hard kick.
finally the arm moved and grabbed the drink you wanted, but your eyes widened in disbelief as it seemed to die before it could drop into the awaiting chute, the entire machine going dark.
and that, that was what caused you to snap.
a string of curses left your mouth and hot tears welled up in the corner of your eyes as you kicked the machine over and over, missing alexia appear at the end of the hallway and race toward you.
"hey hey hey." you tensed as her arms grabbed your biceps and pulled you away, delivering one last hard kick to the machine before alexia had tugged you out of reach.
"get off!" you grunted though it came out as more of a choked up broken sob as alexia's heart dropped and despite the warning voice in the back of her head she refused to let go.
"alexia let go of me!" you cried out trying to pull away but your sister shook her head. "no." you weren't sure if it was the tone of her voice, your sheer exhaustion or the final overflow of the emotions which had been simmering for the last few hours but you gave in.
it was now alexia who tensed up in surprise as you suddenly turned in her arms and hugged her tightly, fists balling at her jumper as alexia relaxed and held you.
"está bien fresa, está bien. mami will be fine, everything will be fine." your sister cooed, hand rubbing small circles on your back as the other cradled your head which pressed into her shoulder.
a nurse walking past gave alexia a sympathetic smile which she returned, whispering assuring words in your ear and holding you tightly, no different than she would when you were upset and much younger.
after a few minutes you managed to calm yourself down a little, and realising who it was that was actively holding you had you pulling away and wiping your eyes with the corner of your sleeves.
"do you want to go for a walk?" alexia offered softly, and as much as the prospect of being alone with her wasn't ideal you really weren't up for returning to the silent stark white waiting room just yet so you nodded.
"wait." alexia held up a finger, glancing around to make sure no one was around before quite literally ramming her body shoulder first into the vending machine as your drink dropped down into the chute from the force.
"needed a footballers touch." your sister smiled handing it to you as you quietly thanked her. not really with any destination in mind the two of you started to wander, a comfortable distance between you as alexia ignored the urge to tuck you into her side like she would when you were younger.
"i do not think i have been in hospital this time of night since you broke your arm." alexia chanced a conversation, sending you a look which you met with a frown.
"i didn't break it alba broke it." you muttered with a slight huff causing a smile to curl onto your sisters lips at the memory.
you were eight years old and eli was working a night shift which left you in the care of both your older sisters for the evening.
showered and dinner had you'd all been watching a movie, dirty dancing, one you found incredibly boring and made a point to tell both your sisters this repeatedly throughout the entire film.
"he's strong!" you marveled as suddenly the main actor lifted his female counterpart into the air, holding her up easily and turning her around mid air. "pft thats easy!" alba dismissed with a scoff as you lifted your head from alexia's lap.
"you couldn't do it, chicken legs." you challenged as alba shot you a filthy glare which had you shrinking into your eldest sister who'd fallen asleep not long after the movie started, having trained twice today and gotten up early for a run.
"could too!" alba shot back as you shook your head. "could not." "could too!" "could not!" "could too!" "could not!"
"cállate por favor!" alexia interjected with a tired groan, eyes fluttering open and her hand moving to cover your mouth as you went to continue the argument.
"you are arguing with an eight year old?" alexia sighed at alba who rolled her eyes but ignored the question. "i could fresa. vamos, we will do it right now!" your middle sister stood and gestured for you to do the same as you wrenched alexia's hand off you.
"what are you both doing now? she should be in bed alba!"" alexia exhaled deeply, her own bed also calling her name. "bah! in a minute. go get a run up hermanita." alba ordered as you shrugged and jumped down from the couch.
"i do not even know what is happening and i know its a bad idea." alexia sighed rubbing her eyes with a shake of her head. "vale fresa, on my count!" alba encouraged readying herself as alexia watched on with a raised eyebrow.
"tres, dos, uno!" you sprinted on one, jumping as she grabbed you and indeed lifted you easily into the air. "muy bonito. the putellas hermanas everyone!" alexia's voice dripped with sarcasm as she clapped slowly with a roll of her eyes.
but what all three of you failed to miss was alba backing up dangerously close to the coffee table, alexia noticing just a millisecond too late.
"alba watch out for the-" the brunette started to warn before your sister made contact and tripped backwards. you hardly blinked then your body was dropping to the ground and a sickening crunch was heard.
"ay dios mio!" alba sat up and paled seeing your arm as you let out a scream, alexia dropping to her knees without a second thought and scooping you up. "get the car keys now!" she barked at alba who scrambled to her feet and raced off.
"hey hey hey fresa está bien, estás bien. don't cry nena don't cry!" alexia cooed, covering your eyes so you couldn't look down at your arm which was very clearly broken, your sobs muffled into her jumper as she sprinted out to the car, alba sliding into the drivers seat as alexia sat beside her still cradling you tightly in her arms.
"ale shouldn't she sit in the ba-" "drive alba! now!"
"she might have broke it but i'm the one who got in trouble for it!" alexia rolled her eyes with a small smile as you both turned around and headed back the way you came.
"i still was the worst off because it was my arm that was broken!" you reminded with a grunt. "hey you got a cast and jenni drew all over it, closest you got to having tattoos." alexia shrugged and you allowed yourself a small smile.
"and then you yelled at jenni and made her scribble over what she drew." you chuckled as alexia groaned. "because you were not going to school with detailed female anatomy on your arm." alexia sighed.
"it was educational!" "don't quote her! it was very inappropriate for an eight year old."
"that cast was so itchy it was the worst!" you sighed with a shake of your head. "then you threw a tantrum because it was white and not coloured." alexia teased lightly as you rolled your eyes.
"because liliana also broke her arm the week after and she got a red cast, and then everyone said she was faster than me." you frowned at the memory. "sí because red is the fastest colour?" alexia laughed beside you.
"obviously alexia, everybody knows that." you sighed as you both returned to the waiting room and at the tense atmosphere you clamped up again, falling silent and returning to your chair making your sister frown.
"anything?" alexia asked taking her own seat next to alba again. "she is done with tests for the night but still out of it, her breathing is better but her heart beat is still very irregular so they will monitor her closely." alba explained with a sigh, her eyes hovering over to you.
"anything?" her younger sister echoed the question back to alexia in regards to you now. "she had a slight meltdown but she didn't want to talk about it, got a hug out of her though and then we went for a walk and talked about when you broke her arm trying to do that stupid lift." alexia explained.
"and i proved i could do it!" alba defended as alexia gave her a side eye. "alba that is what you take from what i said?" the eldest putellas scoffed as alba shrugged, though before either girl could say anything the nurse from earlier reappeared and waved alexia over.
"you and your sisters should go home. you will not be able to see your mami until she is awake and more stable which will not be before tomorrow at least. she cannot afford anything to stress her out or affect her heart rate further until we have more answers on what caused the cardiac arrest." the nurse explained as alexia frowned but nodded.
"you are her emergency contact sí? we will call you once things change and you can all see your mami. but for now go home and rest, you cannot do anything else for her right now and she is in the best place being well looked after." the nurse encouraged before leaving again.
your eldest sister quickly filling alba in you were so zoned out you hadn't even seen her speak to the nurse, staring off into space as alexia took the seat beside you and bumped her shoulder into yours softly to gain your attention before filling you in.
"okay." you nodded quietly, glancing anxiously over your shoulder toward the doors where you'd last seen eli with a pained expression. "hey, they are right hermana there is nothing else we can do. you will come home with me and stay the night and we can go and see mami once she is awake." alexia's words had you shaking your head.
"its fine just take me home, i will be fine." you declined the offer firmly.
"i wasn't asking. you will stay with olga and i tonight and we can talk more about it tomorrow, its late and i think we all need some sleep. i will sleep better knowing you aren't in that house by yourself." alexia spoke softly but firmly, admittedly surprised when you gave in with a curt nod, making no move to argue.
"and you will call me as soon as you hear anything?" alba stressed as alexia sighed tiredly, unlocking her car for you to get into a little while later. "sí. as soon as i hear anything you will know!" alexia promised, drawing her younger sister into a hug before alba walked off to her own car and alexia slid into the drivers seat.
respecting that it didn't seem you were in any mood to talk alexia didn't try to make you, having already paid for her parking she slipped the ticket in and pulled out of the lot.
you watched the dimply lit streets of barcelona fly past in a blur, music filling the somewhat awkward tension in the car helping it to ease a little and before you knew it alexia was parking in the garage of her complex.
you exited the car and followed her into the elevator, still not a single word shared between either of you as your sister twirled her keys around on her finger and you both stepped out onto her floor.
alexia hadn't even turned the key in the door before it was swinging open, olga stood there with a sympathetic smile as you shuffled inside, wrapping your arms around yourself a little awkwardly as your sister kissed her girlfriend hello and closed the door.
"hermana do you want a shower? something to eat? drink?" alexia tried with a smile as you shook your head. "i'm tired." you hinted heavily, shifting from one foot to another and sending olga a small smile.
"vale, spare rooms all made up." alexia nodded behind you and with a quiet good night mumbled you were gone, door closing after you with a click as alexia seemed to deflate now you were no longer there.
"vamos mi amor, you look exhausted." olga encouraged softly, grabbing her girlfriends hand and alexia made no move to fight as she was pulled to her own bedroom, quickly changing and laying down in bed before filling olga in on everything.
"hey that sounds like some steps forward cariño? even just baby ones." the younger girl smiled softly as alexia hummed, the two finished speaking about eli and now moving onto you.
"and she came to your game, no?" olga continued as alexia shrugged. "because mami made her, and she'd rather talk to mapi than me." a slightly jealous pout curled onto her lips making her girlfriend chuckle and run a hand through her hair.
"she posted about going to the game? thats something." olga tried again as alexia gave her an odd look. "where? i did not see that." your sister frowned as olga grabbed her phone and clicked into instagram.
"see? shows she is not embarrassed to be at your game." olga showed your story as alexia's frown deepened and she was quick to grab her own phone from the nightstand.
"i don't see it?" your sister showed that your profile showed no story, comparing it side by side to olga's screen.
"amor what does this mean?" she pointed to the green trim around the edges of your story on olga's screen. "its on her close friends story." olga explained as alexia's eyes widened.
"she has a close friends story? why?" "a lot of people have them for privacy and stuff hermosa, especially teenagers." "privacy?" "sí, they might post stories that they do not want all their followers to be able to see so they have a close friends story where they can control who see's certain things." "and you....you are on her close friends." "sí, and lo siento mi amor but it looks like you are not."
"qué! i'm not going to show her stories to mami!" alexia scoffed as olga avoided her eyes. "why would she not want me on her close friends? i am a cool older sister!" alexia protested, clearly spiraling at this new information
"what? you want to say something, what?" alexia sat up a little and pressed her girlfriend who sighed. "querida. te quiero, mucho mucho mucho." olga started, grabbing alexia's hands in hers and kissing her knuckles.
"but you are...awkward ale. very very awkward!" olga winced as alexia's mouth formed a small o and she pulled her hands away. "no i am not! i play for barça, i go to fun events, i go to restaurants and bars and i travel and take nice photos. i take lots of photos of you all the time! i'm cool, i am!" alexia spiraled further as olga grabbed her hands again.
"you are thirty alexia, she is seventeen. i am sure its not personal! you are very cool amor, very cool." olga cooed in an attempt to soothe the blonde who scowled, crossing her arms and laying back down in bed.
"you are to your hermanita probably just...a little too old for her close friends story mi vida." "olga!"
~
you jolted upright in bed, body drenched in sweat and chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath, tucking your knees up to your chest and rocking slightly with your eyes closed.
you hadn't had a nightmare in years but the one you'd just awoken from after the day you'd had meant your entire body was rigid and coiled with a cocktail of anxiety and dread.
being in your older sisters house in a bed and room that wasn't yours was not helping in the slightest. as your eyes adjusted to the darkness you kicked off the unfamiliar sheets which felt sticky and foreign against your skin.
managing to slow your breathing down a little you found your throat was dry, stripping off your hoodie and quietly leaving your room. a quick glance down the hall showing alexia's bedroom light was off you made a beeline for the kitchen.
you checked a few different cupboards before finally finding the glasses, doing your best to be quiet as you filled it with water and chugged it down, not hearing the soft footsteps which followed yor own.
"hermana?" you jumped a foot in the air and just caught the now empty glass by your fingertips as you nearly dropped it, grabbing at your chest and bending over a little as alexia stepped more into view.
"don't do that!" you warned in a harsh whisper, filling up the glass again and stepping aside as alexia grabbed her own glass and did the same. "lo siento. why are you up?" your sister asked with a concerned frown as you pointed to the glass in your hand and took a seat at the counter.
"did you have a nightmare? you only used to get up for water in the middle of the night when you had a bad dream." alexia asked softly once a few minutes passed and you hadn't made a move to return to your room.
you stayed silent as alexia leaned on the counter, not wanting to push you but watching the look of internal termoil clear on your face as your hands gripped the glass sat in front of you.
"if mami died i'd be all alone."
your words caught alexia off guard, a horrible sinking gut wrenching heart crushing feeling settling in her stomach as neither of you moved or spoke a word for at least a minute.
then once she seemed to snap out of the trance she'd been sent into she was rounding the counter, the thump of her glass against the counter bringing you back down to earth too and before you could take a breath there were hands either side of your face.
"no, no no no no. fresa you would never ever ever be alone. i would not let that happen no matter what i promise. i love you mi hermana, far too much to ever let you be alone. i would do anything for you!" alexia whispered out, holding your face firmly in your hands and her heart ached more seeing the tears pool in the corner of your eyes.
"then why did you stop trying to show me that? i have felt alone for the last year alexia! i felt like i have only had mami for the last year!" you could barely get your words out without your voice cracking, alexias stomach plummeting.
"because i am stupid and selfish and i saw you having friends and a life and i assumed you didn't need me around as much which was so wrong. i stopped checking in, i stopped making an effort and i hurt you. it is my biggest regret fresa, and not a day will go by where i will not wish i could change what has happened but i can't!" alexia's own eyes bore into yours filled with remorse.
"i know you are grown up now, but you will always be mi baby hermana. the same baby i held when you were born, watched learn how to talk and walk and whose hand i held when i walked you to school, who would steal my clothes or hide my boots so i didn't have to go to training because you would miss me and you couldn't come with me." alexia rambled, too far gone now to stop herself from word vomiting.
"the same baby who copied everything i did and snuck into my bed at night because you didn't like to sleep alone, who i would carry to the car when you fell asleep under the table at christmas dinner, who i tried to force to like football and accidentally knocked your front teeth out when i hit you in the face with the ball." alexia exhaled and finally stopped to take a breath before looking like she was going to continue.
"alexia." you sighed and pulled her hands away from your face.
"i know you and alba are trying, but it is really hard for me to see it as sincere when i tried for so long to tell you how i felt and neither of you listened." you spoke calmly, having swallowed the tears which wanted to burst forward.
"it is late and i am tired and it has been a really long night, i can't talk about this with you right now." you stood to your feet and went to leave, your sister grabbing your wrist gently as you paused.
"nena you would never be alone, vale? never." her lips ghosted your forehead but you were grateful she didn't pull you in for a hug, worried that would be the thing to tip you over the edge still actively swallowing back tears.
nodding at her words she let you go and the both of you returned back to your rooms though sleep didn't grace either you nor your older sister, both laying now wide awake and staring at the ceiling.
and alexia meant every word, she would fix this.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
four
1K notes · View notes
latin5mamii · 30 days
Text
Hate you - Jude Bellingham
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WARNINGS: smut, +18 minors dni, cocky Jude alert!! Long chapter😚
SUMMARY: You hate him, right?Or at least you thought so…
GENRE: Enemies to lovers
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you all so much for the love on the first chapter! I’m so grateful for your support. I’ve been taking a short break to improve my writing, especially since English isn’t my first language, and i didn’t expect so much support! I’ll be back with being more active on writing soon, but I’m focusing on making each story better. Thanks for being patient and for all your love!🤍
You didn’t even know why you actually accepted this ‘date.’
Right now, in front of your bathroom mirror, you literally want to die. You agreed to the date to do what? Prove him wrong? Show him you’re unaffected by his charm? “Pride can get you killed” God, they were so right for this.
You pace back and forth, scowling at your reflection. You don’t want to give Jude the satisfaction of thinking he got under your skin. But here you are, taking extra time to look perfect, as if you’re about to meet someone who actually matters. You feel stupid for caring this much.
With a groan, you finally decide on an outfit. Casual enough to say “this means nothing,” but still flattering enough to make him choke on that smug smirk of his. You’re definitely not doing this for him… just a reminder to yourself that you’ve got it like that,right?
Now, as you stand in front of his door, you can’t shake the nerves. It’s just the usual banter, you tell yourself. It’s not a real date. Besides, the setting doesn’t matter,he’s still the same infuriating guy you can’t stand.
The door swings open, and there he is, leaning casually against the doorframe like he’s been waiting for this moment his whole life. He’s in a simple black tee and jeans, looking annoyingly relaxed and somehow even more attractive. You’re already regretting the butterflies in your stomach.
“Right on time,” he says with a smirk, stepping aside to let you in.
You roll your eyes, determined to stay in control. “I’m punctual. You should try it sometime.”
He chuckles, leading you into the living room. It’s a sleek, modern space, but still cozy. A bottle of red wine is already open on the table, two glasses waiting. You glance around, trying to keep your mind off the fact that this feels oddly intimate.
“Wine okay with you?” he asks, pouring the glasses.
“Depends. Are you planning on getting me drunk to make this bearable?” you shoot back, taking the glass he hands you.
Jude raises an eyebrow, amusement in his eyes. "Of course not," he says, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. "Though, if I did, at least then you might admit you actually enjoy my company."
You scoff, taking a sip of the wine. It's smooth and surprisingly good. "Never."
“You never give up, huh?” He smiles at you and you feel your cheeks literally burn. And despite your best efforts, a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. 
“There it is,” Jude says, a slow grin spreading across his face.
“There what is?” you ask, taking another sip to hide the warmth creeping up your cheeks.
“That smile. You spend so much time pretending to hate everything, I was starting to think you forgot how to have fun.”
“I know how to have fun,” you retort, your tone defensive. “Just not with you.”
Jude chuckles, settling into the couch beside you, close enough that you can feel the heat of his body, but not so close that it feels like an invasion of space. 
He swirls his glass of wine. “How long are we going to keep pretending that you hate me?”
You meet his gaze, refusing to back down. “I’m not pretending.”
“Prove it,” he challenges, his voice dropping to a lower, more intimate tone.
Your heart skips a beat, but you refuse to show any sign of weakness. “I don’t need to prove anything to you,” you say, your voice steady despite the rapid pounding of your heart.
Jude’s smirk returns, and he leans in slightly, just enough that you can feel his breath on your lips. “Scared you might like it?” he taunts, his words laced with that same infuriating confidence.
It’s a dangerous game you’re playing, but for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to back down.
“Please,” you scoff, though your voice wavers just slightly. “There’s nothing you could do that would make me like you.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” he murmurs, his eyes dropping to your lips for just a fraction of a second before meeting your gaze again. “I think you might be surprised.”
You want to argue, to tell him he’s full of himself, but the words stick in your throat. Because, deep down, you know there’s a part of you that’s drawn to him, no matter how much you try to deny it.
He leans back slightly, giving you just enough space to breathe, but the intensity in his gaze doesn’t waver. “Why did you agree to this date?” he asks, his tone more serious now, the playful edge gone.
“I didn’t know this was a date,” you reply, lifting your chin defiantly, trying to regain the upper hand.
Jude chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Come on, you’re smarter than that. You knew exactly what this was.”
You meet his gaze, trying to keep your voice steady. “Maybe I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. I’ve heard enough stories about you.”
“Oh, yeah? And what did you hear?” he asks, leaning in again, his eyes locking onto yours.
“That you’re an overconfident player who can’t even drive himself to his own games and training,” you quip, a smirk tugging at your lips as you throw the dig his way.
Jude laughs, clearly amused rather than offended. “Fair enough. I guess I’ve got other things I’m better at.” He gives you a slow, suggestive smile, and you roll your eyes, even as your heart skips a beat.
“You’re so full of yourself,” you mutter, taking another sip of wine to distract yourself from how close he’s sitting, how warm his presence is next to you.
“Maybe,” he admits with a shrug, “but I think you like it.”
“Think again,” you shoot back, but the words come out weaker than you intended.
Jude shifts even closer, his knee brushing against yours, and you can feel the heat radiating off his skin. “I know you’re trying hard not to, but you can’t help it. I’m in your head, aren’t I?”
The tension between you is electric, the air so thick with it that it's almost hard to breathe. You try to find the words to throw back at him, to maintain your composure, but they catch in your throat as Jude moves even closer, his breath hot against your skin.
"Just as i thought" he murmurs, his voice so low it sends shivers down your spine.
Your heart pounds in your chest, every instinct telling you to push him away, to make some cutting remark and put him in his place. But you can't. Instead, your body betrays you, leaning in just slightly, drawn to him in a way you can’t quite control.
Jude notices, of course. He always does. His eyes darken, a slow smile spreading across his lips as he closes the gap between you. “See? I knew you wanted this.”
“Shut up,” you whisper, but the words lack conviction.
"Make me," he challenges, his voice a rough growl as he leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that steals the breath from your lungs.
His touch is fire, his hands roaming over your body with a hunger that mirrors your own, and you arch into him, unable to hold back the soft moan that escapes your lips as his mouth trails down your neck. It’s overwhelming, the intensity of it all, but you don’t want it to stop. You want more,more of him, more of this, whatever it is that’s driving you both to the edge.
Jude’s lips find yours again, and this time the kiss is slower, more deliberate, as if he’s savoring the taste of you, the feel of your body beneath his. 
“Tell me you don’t want this and I'll stop” he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough and full of need.
“Don’t stop,” you whisper back, the admission slipping out before you can stop it.
Jude doesn’t hesitate. He kisses you deeply, his hands gripping your hips as he pulls you into his lap, your legs straddling him as he deepens the kiss, his hands roaming over your back, your sides, as if he’s trying to memorize the feel of you. The sensation of his body against yours is overwhelming, the warmth of his skin searing through your clothes, and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips as his hands find their way under your shirt, fingers brushing against your bare skin.
“You’re so fucking stubborn,” he mutters against your lips, his voice rough with desire.
“And you’re so fucking annoying,” you shoot back, but the bite in your words is softened by the way you’re clinging to him, your body betraying the emotions you’ve tried so hard to keep in check.
His response is a low, satisfied growl as he flips you over onto the couch, his body hovering over yours. The weight of him pressing you into the cushions is intoxicating, and for a moment, all you can do is stare up at him, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you try to catch your breath.
"Say you hate me again," Jude dares, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers the challenge. "I want to hear it."
You know he’s playing with you, pushing you to admit the truth you’ve been denying for so long. But instead of pushing him away, you pull him closer, your hands gripping his shirt as you bring his lips back to yours in a fierce, hungry kiss. 
"Fuck you," you murmur against his lips, but there's no venom in your words. It's almost affectionate, a twisted way of admitting that you've lost this battle, at least for now.
Jude grins against your mouth, his hands sliding under your shirt, fingers tracing over your heated skin. "I was hoping you'd say that," he whispers, his voice thick with desire.
His hands slipping under your shirt, pushing it up and over your head. He leans back just enough to take you in, his eyes dark and hungry as they roam over your body. “You don’t hate me. You’ve never hated me.”
“Shut up,” you repeat, but the words are weaker now, barely a whisper as he kisses a trail down your neck, his hands making quick work of the rest of your clothes.His teeth grazing your skin as he makes his way lower, and you can’t hold back the moan that escapes your lips when he finally reaches your chest. His hands are everywhere, caressing, teasing, driving you wild with need.
“You’re going to beg,” Jude whispers against your skin, his voice a low growl. “And I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”
You bite back a retort, determined to stay in control, but it’s getting harder with every touch, every kiss. When his mouth finally closes over your breast, his tongue flicking over your nipple, you arch into him, your hands tangling in his hair as you try to pull him closer.
He’s relentless, his hands and mouth driving you to the edge, but you’re not ready to give in. Not yet. You pull him up, capturing his lips in another searing kiss, your hands fumbling with his belt as you try to get it undone.
Jude grins against your lips, helping you get rid of his jeans, and when he’s finally free, you can feel just how hard he is, how much he wants you. It sends a thrill through you, knowing that you’re affecting him just as much as he’s affecting you.
You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him down against you, and he groans, his hips grinding against yours. The friction is almost too much, and you’re both breathing hard, your bodies pressed together.
But Jude doesn’t give you a chance to catch your breath. He moves down again, this time sliding his hand between your thighs, finding the wetness there with a satisfied growl.
“Already so wet for me,” he murmurs, his fingers sliding against your slick folds, teasing you, driving you crazy with need.
“Jude…” you moan, trying to keep control, but it’s slipping fast.
He chuckles darkly, his fingers dipping inside you, curling just right, and you can’t stop the way your hips move, seeking more of his touch.
“Say it,” he demands, his voice low and commanding. “Say you want me.”
“In your dreams,” you pant, even as your body betrays you, moving against his hand, desperate for more.
“Every fucking night ” Jude growls, his thumb finding your clit, pressing down just right, and you gasp, your back arching as pleasure courses through you.
He doesn’t give you a chance to recover, his mouth replacing his hand as he moves lower, his tongue sliding against your sensitive flesh, tasting you, driving you wild with every stroke.
“Jude, please” you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them.
Jude looks up at you, his eyes dark and full of desire. “There it is” he says, his voice rough with satisfaction. “I knew you’d beg.”
But he doesn’t stop. He continues his relentless assault on your senses, his tongue flicking over your clit, his fingers sliding inside you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge until you’re right there, teetering on the brink.
“Come for me,” he murmurs against your skin, and that’s all it takes. You cry out, your body convulsing as the pleasure crashes over you, leaving you trembling beneath him.
Jude’s lips curl into a wicked smile as he hovers above you, his body pressing against yours, the heat between you almost unbearable. He slides into you with a slow, deliberate thrust, making you feel every inch of him as he sinks deeper. The sensation sends a shiver through you, and you can’t hold back the moan that escapes your lips.
“Fuck,” Jude groans, his voice low and rough, “You feel so good. So fucking tight.”
You bite your lip, trying to stifle the sounds threatening to spill out, but it’s useless. He knows exactly what he’s doing, each thrust driving you wild, his words only adding fuel to the fire.
“You’re so wet for me,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. “You like this, don’t you? Being fucked by the guy you ‘hate’ so much?”
You dig your nails into his shoulders, clinging to him as he picks up the pace . “Shut up,” you gasp, but the way your body responds to him betrays your words. Every roll of his hips, every deep stroke has you melting beneath him.
“Oh, I don’t think you really want that,” Jude taunts, his voice dripping with confidence. He pulls back slightly, just enough to leave you wanting, teasing you.
“Tell me how much you want it. How much you want me.”
“Jude…” you moan, the sound more of a plea than you intended.
His eyes darken with desire, and he pushes back in, harder this time, his pace relentless as he drives into you. “Say it,” he demands, his voice rough with need. “Tell me you need me.”
You’re on the edge, teetering between holding on to your pride and giving in to the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you. His hand slides down your body, fingers finding your clit, rubbing it in tight, skilled circles that have you seeing stars.
“Fuck, Jude,” you cry out, your body arching into him, your resistance crumbling. “I need you. I need you so fucking bad.”
“I knew this from the beginning” he growls, his lips crashing down on yours in a fierce, possessive kiss. He pounds into you, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge, the combination of his cock inside you and his fingers working your clit driving you insane.
Your breath comes in ragged gasps, your body trembling beneath him as the tension coils tighter and tighter, ready to snap. Jude’s name falls from your lips,you can’t think about anything else.
“Come for me,” Jude orders, his voice a low, commanding growl. “I want to feel you come all over my cock.”
It’s too much. You cry out his name as you come, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm, every muscle tensing at the feeling.
Jude follows you over the edge, his hips snapping against yours in a final, powerful thrust as he spills inside you, his groan of release vibrating through your entire body. He collapses onto you, his weight a comforting pressure as you both struggle to catch your breath.
Jude’s hand strokes your hair gently, a completely different gesture from what happened just moments before.
“Still hate me?” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, but there’s an edge of vulnerability there too.
You manage a breathless laugh, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his back. “You’re still annoying as hell,” you reply, but there’s no real bite to your words.
Jude chuckles, his lips brushing against your forehead. “Good to know I haven’t lost my touch.”
You roll your eyes, though there’s a smile tugging at your lips. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
He pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you, his eyes searching yours. “Too late for that”
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pomefioredove · 22 days
Note
Hello 💕 If you're still accepting headcanons requests, could you write something about a reader who seems normal and "ordinary" and even a little shy/demure but shines brilliantly on stage as if a completely different person (can be an actor, singer, idol etc.) with Rook and Vil and the Pop music club (separately)? Tysm 💓
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ the opposite of stage fright
type of post: headcanons characters: cater, kalim, rook, vil, lilia additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu
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introverts are Lilia's favorite people
...to torture
when you first started attending club meetings, he assumed you were some kind of groupie
I mean, who wouldn't want to fawn over him?
but he still tried to drag you into club activities
you just... refused to play anything, wouldn't sing, wouldn't so much as speak...
but Lilia was confident he could get you to stop holding back
so, the club got clever
at their next concert, Kalim ~magically~ has a sore throat
and who else to take his place but the only other member of the club?
manipulative little fae...
and, as he thought, you had been holding back
the concert is a rousing success
...and he's never going to let you forget it
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Vil is like a bloodhound for talent
he can smell the potential on you from one look at your plain, slightly-disheveled self
he knows that any other student would have ignored you. but he isn't just any student
he knows you're holding out on him
and he'll crack that shell of yours no matter what it takes
that is to say,
once you've caught his eye,
you will never know peace again
...and maybe that sounds like an over exaggeration, but if you're a timid person, it's your worst nightmare
I mean dance rehearsals twice a week, vocal training, posture, projection, poise, presentation-
everything
the other Pomefiore students may give you odd looks as you walk by on their Housewarden's arm,
but he knows
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Kalim doesn't need a big performance to know that he's already proud of you
what can I say? he's got enough enthusiastic hugs to go around
and he definitely doesn't mind that you're shy
...honestly, the thought hasn't even occurred to him
even if you don't want to party or dance or say hi to everyone in the dorm every time you come over,
he like you. he doesn't need anything else
you're already amazing to him
and ... in a way, he kind of turns out to be right?
he had always said he could see the star in you, and here you are, performing on stage like a professional!
...not that he isn't surprised
Kalim is completely blown away
it's all he can talk about for the next week, actually
(much to your embarrassment)
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Rook had a feeling
...and he's also listened to you singing to yourself when you thought you were alone
I mean WHAT who said that
he definitely just had a feeling
now, seeing you on stage, he's almost brought to his knees
having watched the seed of your beauty blossom into a beautiful flower is the ultimate enrichment for him
and unlike Vil, he waited for you to blossom on your own
a hunter is nothing if not patient, after all
though, he still can't help but feel a little accomplished...
even though he didn't push you, or train you, he kept the secret of your beauty all to himself
...which is a kind of guidance
admittedly, he wouldn't have minded keeping it all to himself for a little while longer, though
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Cater always just thought of you as...
...kinda cute. right?
you were shy and quiet, always avoiding his camera, meek, the kind of person that doesn't last long at NRC
...of course, he had to take you under his wing!
sort of?
really, he just liked that you let him talk your ear off
he didn't even mind that you never let him take your picture! ...kind of
and he thought he knew you pretty well, but...
...seeing you on stage after the music club's performance...
totally wiping the floor with them...
well, well, you still find ways to surprise him
of course, though, now that he knows you're a world-class performer, he's never going to let it go
he got a lot of likes on the videos of your performance, after all
I guess he finally got that picture he wanted ;3
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surftrips · 8 months
Text
SHAPESHIFT | CLARISSE LA RUE
pairing: clarisse la rue x female!reader
summary: clarisse wonders if you know just how much she likes you.
word count: 2.1k
author's note: this is the first part of a two part series i'm writing based on jenna doe's songs: shapeshift + pink slips. this is from clarisse's pov and the second one is from readers' :) lmk if you want to be tagged in part 2 <3
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i. i think you have a type, and it's not me
Clarisse has been watching you from the second you arrived at camp. Since you spent every day doing more or less the same thing, she was able to pick up on your routine pretty fast. Two sugars in your coffee every morning. A walk around the lake in the afternoon. Archery practice before the sunset. 
She felt weird going to practices at the same time as you, but she couldn’t help herself. Whenever she got a chance to sneak away from her siblings in the Ares cabin, she always found herself back in your presence. However, the thought to approach you like a normal person had never crossed her mind. Clarisse is the kind of person that needs to be in control, and talking to you one-on-one would mean letting her inhibitions take over, so she always made sure to keep her distance. 
Once or twice, Clarisse had seen you on dates with another camper. At first, she thought you were just having a picnic with the girl from Aphrodite, until the two of you began holding hands. The next day, Clarisse saw you in the other girl’s sweater, which made her so sick she avoided you for an entire week.
The Aphrodite girl (her name, Clarisse later found out, was Stacy) began showing up with you more often. Stacy wore bows in her hair and pearl necklaces, whereas Clarisse’s mascara was always smudged and accessories that didn’t double as weapons felt wrong on her. For the first time, Clarisse wondered why she couldn’t just be like all the other girls. Or at least, a girl you would pay attention to. 
It wasn’t for a lack of trying. Clarisse tried to make her penchant for you as obvious as possible, while actively hiding it from the rest of camp. This proved to be difficult because at the same time, she also didn’t want to get too close to you because, well— what would she even say to you?
Her flirting consisted of winking at you during Capture the Flag or from across the dining hall. She had an ongoing list of nicknames of what to call you when no one else was around, but those moments were few and far between. Once, she even went as far as brushing away a stray piece of hair that had fallen on your face. There seemed to be nothing left for her to do except put bows in her hair or maybe paint her nails, and the thought of doing either of those things made her almost as sick as seeing you and Stacy together. 
Between her and the Aphrodite girl, she knew which girl you would choose. Had chosen. 
ii. mold me how you want me to be
Still, that was not going to stop Clarisse. She had never backed down from a fight before, and this was no different. Even if Stacy didn’t know it, she had become Clarisse’s number one enemy, even more so than that Percy Jackson kid that had recently shown up at camp. It just wasn’t fair that she had been watching you for so long and here comes Aphrodite’s daughter out of nowhere to sweep you off your feet. 
Since Clarisse knew your routine by heart, she devised a plan to get you alone. She decided that she would finally make a move, and then you could pick for yourself who you wanted to be with. Easy enough, right?
At night, Clarisse lay awake in bed thinking about you, Stacy, then you and Stacy together. Though she didn’t want to go there, her brain wondered what the two of you were doing at that very moment. Her thoughts ranged from tame, to slightly more unhinged. Like, were you lying underneath the stars on your picnic blanket? Or was Stacy doing your makeup as she straddled your lap?
Clarisse didn’t pray often, but ever since she met you, she had taken to silently wishing you would acknowledge her. Each time she saw you with your arms wrapped around Stacy, she yearned to know what that would feel like. Not that she thought you would come near her with a ten-foot pole. Stacy is sweet, like bubblegum or strawberries from the fields, and Clarisse is the opposite. If you tasted her, she might make your gums bleed.
Before you, she was never the kind of girl to care about her appearance. Gods, she was the daughter of Ares, they weren’t known for their beauty but their strength and power and when it came to those categories, Clarisse knew that she had Stacy beat. 
And yet, Clarisse would change just about anything about herself if it would make you like her more. In your hands, she would turn into putty, moldable clay to take the shape of your ideal lover. Hell, she would change her name if she thought you didn’t like the sound of it.
iii. kill anyone if you ask me to 
A few weeks later, the Ares cabin and yours happened to be on the same team for Capture the Flag. It was the closest Clarisse had been to you ever since you began dating Stacy. The proximity to you was killing her, but she had to stay focused—on winning the game and your heart.
Putting aside her wandering thoughts, Clarisse barked out instructions to the campers. When she got to your cabin, she assigned you and your half-siblings to be the second line of defense for the flag. Clarisse figured this way, she could keep you out of harm’s way. Also, this was her one chance to talk to you without Stacy hanging off your body and she wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass. 
After the first conch blew, Clarisse went on high-alert mode. Her team had lost the last game to Luke and Annabeth’s team, but she was not going to accept defeat this time. Her eyes darted back and forth between blind spots in the forest and you and the flag. 
As she absent-mindedly waved her new spear around, Clarisse heard soft footsteps behind her. She whipped her head around with her weapon aimed in the air, preparing to fight whoever had approached her. 
“Shit, Y/N, you scared me.” It was just you. Wait– it was you.
“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to,” you responded, your hands in front of you.
Clarisse almost couldn’t believe her eyes. Did someone poison her earlier and she was hallucinating right now? Okay, keep it cool.
“Is something wrong?” Clarisse managed to ask after composing herself, realizing that you had moved away from your post. 
“Uh, no. I- um… heard about what happened to your spear last week, and I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” you smiled nervously. 
“Why?”
“Why…. am I sorry?”
Clarisse wanted to slap her hand across her forehead. Why did she say that? She meant to ask why are you talking to me right now? What did I do to deserve this? But she didn’t know how to word that in a way that wouldn't make you think she was crazy. 
When she didn’t respond, you began backing away. “Look, I’m sorry if this is a sensitive topic. I just felt bad, is all.”
“No!” Clarisse began panicking. “I didn’t mean it like that- just, why are you talking to me now? We’ve never had a real conversation before.” 
“Does it matter?” She expected you to be confused, but the look at your face seemed more amused than anything. 
“No, I guess not,” Clarisse couldn’t help but smile. Gods, why was she so awkward? Anyone else, she would’ve been perfectly fine, but in the last few minutes, her mouth had gone dry and her legs felt as though they would give out at any second.
“Great,” you beamed in return. Clarisse’s eyes catch yours and the two of you stare at each other in content for a minute. Or at least, you are. Clarisse is convinced an Aphrodite kid has changed her pupils to hearts. “I haven’t seen you around lately,” you broke the silence. 
“What do you mean? I’m always around,” Clarisse stammered for an excuse. 
“Well, sure. It’s a small camp.” You seemed to be enjoying seeing Clarisse fumble for words. “But I used to see you all the time. At breakfast and archery.” 
Clarisse ignored the implications of your comment. “Oh, I guess we just started going at different times then. You know you’re always with Stacy now—” 
At the mention of your girlfriend’s name, your face contorted into something strange and unfamiliar to Clarisse. But before she could figure it out, a noise behind you caused the two of you to turn around abruptly. 
“Y/N, watch out!” Clarisse shouted at you, but it was too late. Someone had dragged you backwards, knocking your weapon out of your hand. You struggled to free yourself, but whoever was holding you had revealed a dagger and you didn’t want to risk accidentally cutting yourself. 
“If you know what’s best for yourself, let her go.” Clarisse breathed furiously, pausing between the last three words in her sentence. You couldn’t see who was restraining you, but you could feel their heart rate quicken at the sight of Clarisse’s spear getting dangerously close. 
“And what if I don’t?” they responded. You knew that they were just putting on a front, you could feel their chest heaving up and down on your back. Clarisse seemed to know this too, she’s always been able to sense fear in people— mostly because she is the one that invokes it. 
“I don’t think you want to find out,” she grinned, a wicked smile on her face. The next second, her spear had jabbed into the camper’s side, causing them to let go of their hold on you. You dropped to the ground. 
“Shit!” the camper swore, rubbing their ribcage. “You’re not supposed to actually hurt me!” You could see their face now, one of Hermes' kids you’ve seen hanging around Luke. 
“Now, what’s the fun in that?” Clarisse laughed. “Besides, the spearhead is blunt. You’ll be fine, drama queen.” 
The kid scrambled away, leaving behind the dagger they had previously threatened you with. Clarisse ran over, instinctively putting her hands on your face. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I think so.” You began to stand up, but Clarisse pushed you back down. 
“Clar, come on, I’m fine.” 
“Are you sure? Let me just get a look at you,” she insisted, ignoring the way your nickname for her made something in her stomach flip over. You relented, knowing it was useless to argue with her. You allow her to scan your body for any signs of harm. Clarisse took her time, unsure of when the next time she would be this close to you again. Most of your body was covered by your armor or clothes, so her eyes drifted toward your exposed arms and the area where the kid had touched you. 
Hesitantly, she reached for the side of your stomach. “Are you sore? Did they leave a mark?” 
“No, I don’t think so,” you shook your head, lifting up the hem of your shirt to see. You heard Clarisse’s breath hitch. “What? What’s wrong?” You were fully sat up now. 
“N-nothing!” Color rushed into Clarisse’s cheeks, causing her to turn her head away suddenly. 
You giggled, her reaction not going unnoticed. “Thanks for saving me, tough girl.” 
“Of course.” Clarisse pulled you up on your feet. “Anything for you, pretty girl.” The words slipped out of her mouth before she could register it. The two of you stared at each other again, it seemed as though eye contact was your main form of communication at the moment. And right now, Clarisse’s eyes were sparkling with something familiar, almost like how Stacy looks at you—
“Oh my god, babe! Are you okay?” Speaking of the devil, Clarisse rolled her eyes at the sight of your girlfriend running up. 
“Stacy! How’d you know something was wrong?” You were pulled into a stifling hug, the air thick with floral perfume. 
“Silly girl, I am the daughter of Aphrodite. I have a heightened sense for these things,” Stacy pulled her arms away and gave you a once-over, presumably to check for injuries, before smothering you with kisses. 
Clarisse coughed, once, and then again a little louder. “Oh!” Stacy turned toward her. “Clarisse, I didn’t see you there.” 
“I wouldn’t be standing here if it weren’t for her,” you said, sensing Clarisse’s uneasiness. 
Now, Stacy’s face contorted into something strange. Shamelessly, Clarisse took pride in being the cause of it. 
“Well, thank you,” she responded tersely. “Come on, let’s get one of the Apollo kids to look at you.” Stacy pushed you away before you could protest. You offered Clarisse a weak smile before turning around. 
Clarisse sighed, maybe if she had been a daughter of Aphrodite, she could shapeshift into someone you walked away with— not from.
That night, she prayed to Ares for the first time in months.
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jujutsusimp · 4 months
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Your voice...
🔞 Uraume getting off watching you and Sukuna having sex
I don't know what got into me, I get up with the URGE to write something about Uraume fantasizing about Sukuna's lover (fem!reader) and touching themselves while they are listening/watching them fucking so here we are I guess.
Content: smut 🔞, fem reader, voyeurism, masturbation (tried to keep Uraume gender neutral), rough sex, dirty talk, dub con (sex itself is consensual, but Uraume watches without permission.)
You were screaming so loud today. Uraume should have been used to it by now: Sukuna was always shameless, taking you anywhere anytime whenever he fancied, and he fancied a lot. Usually they would go by their day minding their own business, but lately they have been obsessed by the sound of your moans.
They didn’t know when it started exactly.
When they started paying active attention to the way you were whimpering in pleasure.
When they started to imagine how your face looked when you were fucked so roughly.
When they started to wish they could make you scream in ecstasy while they kiss your whole body.
Uraume leaned against the hallway wall, breathing deeply to calm their nerves. Their body felt so hot, so needy. They knew it was wrong, but was it their fault if once again you were fucking in the middle of the living room? Was it their fault if the squelching sound of your dripping pussy was so freaking loud and they could hear it beneath the noises of your skin slapping lustfully each time Sukuna pounded you?
- Oh fuck Kuna, you are so deep, fuck
You whined more lasciviously than usual, and your following groan of pleasure went straight to their crotch, making it throb as their mouth went dry. They wanted to look so badly. They slowly straighten their back, hesitating for a second before they start walking, passing by the wide-open door as if nothing happened and they were just crossing the corridor. Their eyes trailed discretely on the room, on you, as they walked, their pace tranquil and natural, their turmoil only betrayed by the way their first was clenched.
You didn’t seem to notice them, you were not facing the door and were very obviously focused on Sukuna's dick rearranging your guts, same was true for Sukuna, who was too enthralled by the way his hands were sinking into the flesh of your ass to pay attention to his surroundings. Still, they didn't dare drag more than necessary; this brief glimpse was enough to give them a full picture of the situation, making their heart pound faster.
As Uraume leaned against the wall on the other side of the door frame, they closed their eyes, the scene so vivid in their mind. The way you were trying so hard to not slouch as Sukuna was taking you on all fours directly on the ground, the beautiful curve of your back, the rocking of your heavy breast at each thrust, the way your sweat was sticking your hair on your neck, your lips parting to moan from the relentless pounding...
No amount of meditation could calm them now, their sex was throbbing so much, pulsating in rhythm with the delighted screams they could hear. Their hand trailed on their stomach grazing against their aching arousal through their cloth in order to ease the painful ache between their legs. They barely touched themselves, and yet they were already dripping, not registering any of the dirty banter that was going on until you started stuttering louder.
- I’m.. going to cum, I am going to cum!!!
Your ecstatic voice sent a jolt of pleasure through their body, trying not to moan as they started stroking themselves urgently gripping their robe desperately in their sloppy movement.
- No not yet, hold on a bit more
Sukuna's voice was as teasing and commanding as usual, and they felt grateful for the extra time suddenly desperate to cum in tandem with you. They messily lifted the hem of their robe so they could touch their sex directly with renewed vigor, intoxicated by how your moans were turning into hopless, lustful whines of frustration and bliss.
It was so hot, they couldn’t resist and peaked their head just slightly again through the door frame, getting a new glimpse at your face distorted in pure pleasure at the way you were scratching the floor, your whole body shaking as Sukuna fucked you hard, pulling your hair roughly to keep you steady.
They quickly leaned back on the wall, in fear of being caught, their fingers working desperately on their heat, their head light from how aroused they were.
- There, there, good girl, now you can cum, Sukuna said, his voice dripping with condescension, his own grunt of pleasure mixed with your screams, barely audible from how wild you were panting and moaning.
A whimper escaped Uraume lips as they finally came, ruining their underwear quite spectacularly while putting their free hands over their mouth to stop themselves from being too loud. Their body was so tensed, pressing the back of their head as hard as they could against the wall.
Their legs were shaking from the intensity of their orgasm as they finally let themselves slowly fall against the wall, trying to steady their ragged breath. They never felt so good in their entire life and so shameful at the same time.
- Such a good slut, you did so well for me, Sukuna praised the sounds of wet kisses filling the room, irking Uraume and getting them back on earth. Somehow, the sloppy, hungry sounds of your lips crashing against Sukuna’s with a blissful humming were making them more jealous than the whole debauchery they just witnessed.
Chasing the thought of their head, they hastily clean their hand on their clothes, standing up again while they tidy their robe to look decent, and walking away before they get caught, their heart pounding hard in their chest as your voice still echoed in their mind.
They were in so much trouble.
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burntoutdaydreamer · 10 months
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To Write Better Antagonists, Have Them Embody the Protagonist's Struggles
(Spoilers for The Devil Wears Prada, Avatar the Last Airbender, Kung Fu Panda 2, and The Hunger Games triology).
Writing antagonists and villains can be hard, especially if you don't know how to do so.
I think a lot of writers' first impulse is to start off with a placeholder antagonist, only to find that this character ends up falling flat. They finish their story only for readers to find the antagonist is not scary or threatening at all.
Often the default reaction to this is to focus on making the antagonist meaner, badder, or scarier in whatever way they can- or alternatively they introduce a Tragic Backstory to make them seem broken and sympathetic. Often, this ends up having the exact opposite effect. Instead of a compelling and genuinely terrifying villain, the writer ends up with a Big Bad Edge Lord who the reader just straight up does not care about, or actively rolls their eyes at (I'm looking at you, Marvel).
What makes an antagonist or villain intimidating is not the sheer power they hold, but the personal or existential threat they pose to the protagonist. Meaning, their strength as a character comes from how they tie into the themes of the story.
To show what I mean, here's four examples of the thematic roles an antagonist can serve:
1. A Dark Reflection of the Protagonist
The Devil Wears Prada
Miranda Priestly is initially presented as a terrible boss- which she is- but as the movie goes on, we get to see her in a new light. We see her as an bonafide expert in her field, and a professional woman who’s incredible at what she does. We even begin to see her personal struggles behind the scenes, where it’s clear her success has come at a huge personal cost. Her marriages fall apart, she spends every waking moment working, and because she’s a woman in the corporate world, people are constantly trying to tear her down.
The climax of the movie, and the moment that leaves the viewer most disturbed, does not feature Miranda abusing Andy worse than ever before, but praising her. Specifically, she praises her by saying “I see a great deal of myself in you.” Here, we realize that, like Miranda, Andy has put her job and her career before everything else that she cares about, and has been slowly sacrificing everything about herself just to keep it. While Andy's actions are still a far cry from Miranda's sadistic and abusive managerial style, it's similar enough to recognize that if she continues down her path, she will likely end up turning into Miranda.
In the movie's resolution, Andy does not defeat Miranda by impressing her or proving her wrong (she already did that around the half way mark). Instead, she rejects the values and ideals that her toxic workplace has been forcing on her, and chooses to leave it all behind.
2. An Obstacle to the Protagonist's Ideals
Avatar: The Last Airbender
Fire Lord Ozai is a Big Bad Baddie without much depth or redemptive qualities. Normally this makes for a bad antagonist (and it's probably the reason Ozai has very little screen time compared to his children), but in Avatar: The Last Airbender, it works.
Why?
Because his very existence is a threat to Aang's values of nonviolence and forgiveness.
Fire Lord Ozai cannot be reasoned with. He plans to conquer and burn down the world, and for most of the story, it seems that the only way to stop him is to kill him, which goes against everything Aang stands for. Whether or not Aang could beat the Fire Lord was never really in question, at least for any adults watching the show. The real tension of the final season came from whether Aang could defeat the Fire Lord without sacrificing the ideals he inherited from the nomads; i.e. whether he could fulfill the role of the Avatar while remaining true to himself and his culture.
In the end, he manages to find a way: he defeats the Fire Lord not by killing him, but by stripping him of his powers.
3. A Symbol of the Protagonist's Inner Struggle
Kung Fu Panda 2
Kung Fu Panda 2 is about Po's quest for inner peace, and the villain, Lord Shen, symbolizes everything that's standing in his way.
Po and Lord Shen have very different stories that share one thing in common: they both cannot let go of the past. Lord Shen is obsessed with proving his parents wrong and getting vengeance by conquering all of China. Po is struggling to come to terms with the fact that he is adopted and is desperate to figure out who he is and why he ended up left in a box of radishes as a baby.
Lord Shen symbolizes Po's inner struggle in two main ways: one, he was the source of the tragedy that separated him from his parents, and two, he reinforces Po's negative assumptions about himself. When Po realizes that Lord Shen knows about his past and confronts him, Lord Shen immediately tells Po exactly what he's afraid of hearing: that his parents abandoned him because they didn't love him. Po and the Furious Five struggle to beat Shen not because he's powerful, but because Po can't let go of the past, and this causes him to repeatedly freeze up in battle, which Shen uses to his advantage.
Po overcomes Shen when he does the one thing Shen is incapable of: he lets go of the past and finds inner peace. Po comes to terms with his tragic past and recognizes that it does not define him, while Shen holds on to his obsession of defying his fate, which ultimately leads to his downfall.
4. A Representative of a Harsh Reality or a Bigger System
The Hunger Games
We don't really see President Snow do all that much on his own. Most of the direct conflict that Katniss faces is not against him, but against his underlings and the larger Capitol government. The few interactions we see between her and President Snow are mainly the two of them talking, and this is where we see the kind of threat he poses.
President Snow never lies to Katniss, not even once, and this is the true genius behind his character. He doesn't have to lie to or deceive Katniss, because the truth is enough to keep her complicit.
Katniss knows that fighting Snow and the Capital will lead to total war and destruction- the kind where there are survivors, but no winners. Snow tells her to imagine thousands upon thousands of her people dead, and that's exactly what happens. The entirety of District 12 gets bombed to ashes, Peeta gets brainwashed and turned into a human weapon, and her sister Prim, the very person she set out to protect at the beginning of the story, dies just before the Capitol's surrender. The districts won, but at a devastating cost.
Even after President Snow is captured and put up for execution, he continues to hurt Katniss by telling her the truth. He tells her that the bombs that killed her sister Prim were not sent by him, but by the people on her side. He brings to her attention that the rebellion she's been fighting for might just implement a regime just as oppressive and brutal as the one they overthrew and he's right.
In the end, Katniss is not the one to kill President Snow. She passes up her one chance to kill him to take down President Coin instead.
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uglypastels · 1 month
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omg what about Logan being like the softest with a sensitive/shy reader. Idk in what context like maybe she’s just overwhelmed with life and kinda closed off in terms of voicing what’s wrong and you know he’s usually very stoic but he’s the BIGGEST softy. Totally not projecting btw.
YEsss Logan is such a fucking softie, no matter how hard he'd want to try and hide it. thank you for being my first request for this fandom i hope i can do it some justice 🫶 and pleeease, we love to project here so please, go right ahead.
warnings: darkness. anxiety. loneliness. alcohol. fem!reader. reader's mutation specified. mentions of past [implied toxic] relationship. so some angst but also bunch of fluff at the end. also please don't come for me if he's a bit out of character. this is my first time writing Logan so it will be trial and error.
~ X-Men Requests Open ~ Masterlist ~
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It was the dead of the night. Quite literally. All around you was so quiet and dark that the rest of the world might as well have ceased to exist. All you heard was the floorboards creaking under your footsteps as slivers of moonlight illuminated your path through the corridors of the mansion. It was the rare instance that you felt at peace. 
Yes, you knew almost as soon as you stepped inside the large building and saw all these mutants walking around happily and carelessly that you had found a true safe haven, and yet, months later, you still had not found your bearings. It did not help that you were not exactly in the age bracket of most of the residents here. Having the mansion double as a school meant most of the mutants were in that school-going age range, and while they were lovely (for the most part), you had no desire to befriend children. Then, those who you felt more drawn to socially, like Storm or Jean, were all apart of that special ops team, which always left them busy, if not completely absent, while away on missions. 
Thus, most of your days went by in solitude. Something you had gotten used to throughout your life. Over the years it had become natural for you to simply disappear into your surroundings. Wether you wanted to or not, people simply overlooked you. In hindsight, it explained your mutation perfectly… or was that just an aftereffect of it? You had always wondered if it was one’s personality that influenced the mutation or the other way around.
Either way, for you, it all merged into one dark abyss. 
By now, you had gotten a hang of all the floor plans of the giant building, especially the route between your room and the kitchens. 
You hadn’t checked the clock when you got out of bed, but it must have been around 2 am, if not later. You didn’t expect anyone to be up at this ungodly hour. Especially not walking out of the dark kitchen exactly as you were coming through the threshold. The two of you bump, chest to chest, and the contact immediately made you burst out in a high-pitched scream. From the other side of the impact, you heard a muffled grunt and the sound of a blade being pulled. That was enough for your flight or fight mode to activate. You almost choked on the deep breath you took. The blade swung in your direction, but it only slashed the air where you once stood. 
‘Who’s there?’ it was a male voice. Hard and deep, almost wild. In your other form, your eyes adapted much better to the dark, and so you could see him looking around himself wildly. You counted the sharp appendages in his hands— no, they were coming out of his arms— six long claw-like blades ready to impale the very first thing that’d move. 
There was no doubt about it that this must have been the infamous Logan everyone around the mansion talked about. From what you had heard, he had been away for almost a year on some top-secret assignment for the Professor, but now he had apparently returned.
And what a comeback he has made, nearly stabbing you in the hallway.
‘Who’s there?’ he repeated his question louder, still looking around.
‘Just me.’ Your voice came out as the exact opposite of his, soft and weak, and you immediately regretted your words. Just me, as if he was supposed to know what that meant.
But it must have done the trick, as Logan retracted his claws. His shoulders visibly slacked at the lack of imminent danger.
‘Well, Me, you can come out of hiding. I’m not gonna hurt ya,’ he grumbled, ‘let me just turn the light on–’ 
‘Wait!’ You squeezed your eyes shut and let the cool air of the night brush over your bare arms. When you opened them again, all you could see was Logan’s large frame standing inside the kitchen, most likely hovering over the light switch, surprised at your sudden call.
‘Sorry, you can uhm– turn the lights on now.’ And like that, with a quiet flick, the kitchen illuminated with a soft orange glow. 
Logan’s eyes were immediately on you, scanning you up and down for any sign of recognition, but you already knew there would be none. Even if he had ever seen you before, there never was.
‘Do I know you?’ he cocked his head with the question, and all you could do was shake your head. 
‘I doubt it.’ No one knew you, but that didn’t feel like a smart response.
‘Care to introduce yourself, Bub?’ He leaned against the wall with the light switch, and maybe it was his overall greatness as he practically towered over you, but you felt a rush of heat fall over your face as he looked down at you in expectance. Awkwardly, you pushed out the sounds that formed your name, with a bonus of an extended hand for him to shake. 
‘And you must be Logan, right?’
He confirmed your suspicion with a grunt as he took your hand, squeezed firmly, but not painfully, and shook it once. Then, silence fell between you. 
Two strangers who met in a complete, nearly fatal accident. It was only to be expected you would have nothing to say to one another. But you were, after all both awake this late in the night, and that was enough to compel you to talk. 
‘Couldn’t sleep?’
‘Just got back, actually.’ His eyes glanced to your side and that is when you noticed the duffel bag that lay in the corridor. Then, only when you looked back at him did you take in what he was wearing. Not the expected gym shorts or sweatpants with an old shirt. Instead, Logan was dressed in a black button-up under a dark motorcycle jacket. With that, he had a boot cut-jeans and the boots to match. From the tiny dark dotted pattern on his shoulders and the light pitter-pattering that was occurring outside, it was visible he had just come from out of the rain. 
Immediately, a parade of questions entered your mind. Where had he been? Why did he come back so late? What was he doing in the kitchen? And so much more, though none of it would leave your mouth as you doubted he would talk to you about his secret mission. 
‘You alright?’ His brows furrowed as he looked down at you, and you realised how you must have looked. Staring up at him with wide eyes, not saying a single thing. Another heat flare hit your cheeks.
‘Yeah, I’m fine.’
He cocked his head in an examinatory fashion. The disbelief evident in his eyes. 
‘You’re new here, aren’t you?’
‘Relatively,’ you shrugged. ‘Got here a few months ago.’
‘Parents kicked you out?’ He assumed the most common backstory that comes with the residents of the mansion.
‘Not exactly,’ you kept your response short. After all, you could hardly tell a stranger you just met that your boyfriend had kicked you out of your shared apartment when he found out about your genetic abnormality. You had never been sure how he would have reacted, but the events that unfolded were even beyond your imagination. But the past was the past, and you didn’t want to dwell on it. The important part was that not a day after this conversation, you were crying in your car with nowhere to go. It was by chance that weeks after your break-up/eviction, you stumbled into some other mutants who told you about the Professor. You weren’t too sure about going to seek shelter at a school of all places, but in reality, the Academy was much more than that. Though it did give you the perfect opportunity to safely train your abilities.
That and so much more was what went through your head, but you didn’t say any of that to Logan. Why would you? He didn’t know you. He didn’t care about your problems, and you didn’t blame him for it. 
On the contrary, you appreciated that he didn’t press you for more details. When you answered the way you did, he simply nodded in understanding and made his way over to the fridge. The blue glow illuminated his tense features. Strange, for a man who had been a year on the go on some secret spy adventure, you would have expected him to return at least a bit beaten up. But besides maybe some signs of a bad sleep schedule, no form of strain was visible on his face.
‘You want something?’ he looked over at you, making you realise you had been, in fact, staring and not very subtly either. 
‘I’m good, thanks.’ 
‘Suit yourself,’ he went back to inspecting the contents of the fridge before sighing with disappointment. ‘They still don’t have anything stronger around here?’
‘Oh, if you’re looking for beer–’ you walked over to a cabinet at the other end of the kitchen. You tapped a corner, and a small code pad appeared. You tapped in the code, and the cabinet opened to reveal a fully stocked mini-bar. ‘Scott had it installed over the summer,’ you explained when you saw Logan’s confused expression.
‘Explains the babyproofing.’ He walked over, and you handed him a cool bottle of beer.
‘Well, it is a school after all.’ You held in a smile as the thought occurred to you that the kids might not have been the only ones who weren’t supposed to know about the secret compartment. The rivalry between Cyclops and the Wolverine was known all too well around the whole campus, even for newcomers such as yourself.
Logan smirked, taking his beer. You were about to offer a bottle opener, but he hit the neck of the bottle against the edge of the table and with a pop and a clink, the cap came right off. 
‘Here,’ he exchanged your bottles, giving you the open one. You watched him repeat his actions with the second drink. Your eyes were still on him as he chugged down half of the beer in one go. He probably could have downed the whole thing if it wasn’t for his look down at you, most likely noticing your entranced look.
‘That staring a part of your powers, too, then?’ he commented, and the acknowledgement immediately made you turn your head in the direction of the window.
‘Sorry. I just— I tend to do that, I guess.’ You wrinkled your nose. Being on your own around so many people, you had gotten used to people watching, observing them from a distance like a show on TV that you kept on for the background noise.
‘What do you do, anyway?’ He asked bluntly, ‘I thought I had done you in good back there.’
‘You would have,’ you chuckled, remembering just how close his claws had come into contact with you. ‘It’s hard to explain. I just kind of—’ You noticed the shadow that fell over the floor from the table and lightly grazed it with the tip of your toe. With a deep breath, the world in front of you changed. Except the exact opposite was the truth. ‘Disappear.’ You finished the sentence, punctuated by your new state.
Logan’s eyes widened as you disappeared in front of his eyes. Where the shock came from, he couldn’t explain. He had encountered these sorts of mutants before. But this felt different than regular invisibility or teleportation. With his heightened senses, he could always detect those sorts of hijinks. No one ever disappeared to him. But you— as soon as you had faded away, it was as if you had completely fallen off the face of the earth. Not a single trace of you lingered behind. When you spoke, just as you had in the hallway, your voice didn’t seem to be coming from one place. It was all around him, almost like a whisper, a voice inside his own head.
With a blink of an eye, you reappeared before him. Just as you had stood there moments before.
‘There’s not really a name for this, I think; at least no one around here could come up with anything that made sense.’ Not that you had any conversations that made people interested enough to do the research. ‘But from my own understanding, I kind of become one with the shadows.’
‘And what about the light?’ he recalled your yelp when he had tried to turn on the light.
‘I merge with the dark, and so when new light sources interfere… it’s not pretty.’
Logan simply nodded as he took the last swig of his beer.
For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, you leaning against the counter and he against the large table. 
‘You’re doing it again, Bub.’ He smirked, calling out your lost stare. 
‘Sorry,’ you hadn’t even realised you were doing it. You had just been looking around the room and may have, perhaps, accidentally lingered a look at his frame for a few seconds. And then you caught sight of his hands. More specifically, his knuckles. There was a faint pink glow on the skin, but besides that, you would never be able to tell that deadly claws could grow out from there. You blinked. ‘Sorry.’ You were doing it again. Quickly, you drank the rest of your beer. The bitter taste lingered in your throat, suffocating the burning questions that you wanted to ask.
‘Spill it out.’ He hit you by surprise with the command.
‘Uh–what?’
You knew there were plenty of mindreaders around, but you had not thought it was one of Logan’s abilities. ‘How did you–’
‘It’s all in your face, sweetheart. You think just ‘cause you’re quiet, you’re hard to read, don’t you.’ His assumption left you a bit stunned. It wasn’t that you had thought exactly that, but more so that you never considered that you were making any expressions that were that easy to interpret, as you never really had anyone pay that much attention to you to point it out.
 ‘If you want to say something, just say it.’ Logan said the corner of his lips lifted in a small smile. ‘If you’re wondering if it hurts,’ he looked down at his knuckles, ‘it hurts just as any other one-foot-long knife cutting through skin.’
‘That’s awful.’ You gasped, considering what it must be like to have such a mutation that inadvertently harmed you any time you used it.
‘You get used to it after a while.’ 
Another round of silence. This time, the longer it went on, the more you started thinking how you must be inconveniencing him. With the beers drank, there was little for you both to still be doing here, but also didn’t want to be rude by just up and leaving. After all, you didn’t know Logan very well. 
‘You sure you’re alright?’ He asked, coming out from behind the table.
‘Yeah.’ You tried to smile but could tell it probably did not reach your eyes. Logan moved with a sense of apprehension, unsure of how to approach you. Being a year on the road, not to mention the years of solitude before he had joined the Professor’s team, had not exactly prepared him for these kinds of situations. He didn’t know the right things to do or to say. But to you, just his presence was enough. Just him being there, talking, or in this case, just seeing you, was more than you could have asked for. ‘I’m good.’ 
And yet, ironically, though you had actually meant it for once, you really did feel alright, but something about the situation caused tears to prickle in the corners of your eyes. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation that made you overly sensitive. Or the alcohol. 
You blinked the tears away and smiled awkwardly. ‘It’s just been a long day.’ or week. Month. Year. How about your entire life?
‘Yeah, tell me about it.’ There was that quirk in his lip again, that ghost of a smile. And you couldn’t figure out if his response was just a sarcastic quip, understandably referring to his past days, which you were sure did not consist of a walk in the park. Or did he actually mean it, and he did want you to tell him more? Well, your moment of contemplation brought on another wave of silence, and the heavier it fell, the worse you felt to go back to your problems.
The sudden sound of footsteps pulled you back into your world. People must be slowly waking up; meanwhile, you hadn’t had an hour of sleep yet, and the effect of that started to hit.
‘I should— should probably go.’ You muttered, taking small steps in the direction of the door.
‘Well, the offer always stands.’ Logan followed you with his eyes, turning in his spot as you passed by him. See you around, Nightshade.’
‘What?’ the nickname caught you off-guard, stopping you in your tracks. 
‘Sorry,’ Logan winced, ‘I don’t know—’ that’s what he gets for trying to be cute. 
‘No, don’t apologise. I like it.’ Your smile finally found its full form. A “thank you” almost slipped past it, but you held yourself back. It felt too cheesy to get all sentimental about something as silly as a nickname. Especially since he didn’t know what it meant for you. He didn’t need to know didn’t think you’d ever belong amongst these people enough to get a moniker. 
And maybe it didn’t mean anything at all, maybe he had just said it as a mindless comment on your powers. Or maybe not. Maybe he had really tried hard to put that smile on your face. 
You would never know.
Unless you took that one small step. Because, of course, all you had to do was ask, just like he had told you, but maybe another time. For now, you just bid him farewell, hoping for that next opportunity to certainly come sooner than later.
the end.
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elllisaaa · 28 days
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fjhkvdhfvd I LOVE YOUR BF THOUGHTS SO MUCH!!! you write them so well 😭😭😭 can we please get a vernon one!!! ahhh
thank youuu so much ! i'm really glad this concept gets attention because i really like doing this, hope you'll like it !
BF!VERNON who's maybe not the most expressive but who knows how to show you that he loves you through many other ways.
vernon says "i love you" without any words, and actually, you love it that way a lot. for example, whenever you recommend a song to him or when he sees you listening to something he doesn't know, he's gonna go listen to it too. you have a shared playlist and he also made you a playlist filled with songs that reminded him of you, and the lyrics or vibes sometimes hit so deep it makes you tear up how much he gets you. this is something recurring between you and vernon - the non-verbal communication. you can literally spend hours and hours with each other without even speaking because you don't need words to understand each other. that's something vernon loves a lot because sometimes he just wants to hold you in his arms, scroll on his phone and not talk at all. both of you often have stay at home dates rather than going out, but vernon always makes sure to plan a fun activity - like building legos, trying to learn how to paint or doing scrapbooking with pics of the two of you. it allows you to test some activities you wouldn't usually have and it's fun when it's with him.
"what are we doing tonight baby ?" - "it's a secret, but i know you're gonna love it."
he stares at you a lot whenever you're doing mundane things - washing the dishes, simply reading or when you're putting on makeup. it's so domestic, it makes his heart beat faster and think about marrying you soon. vernon also does this when you're talking with someone else, staring at you because he just loves to see you live and shine. he always has a faint smile on his lips when he's watching you, and generally, he smiles a lot around you. that's something his members quickly noticed, even before the two of you got together. and you never fail to tell him that you love his smile, and that flusters him every time. actually, every one of your compliments makes him shy. however, he often flusters you very easily with some random words or gestures and gifts that make you fall in love with him even more. vernon is the type to just look you in the eyes and bluntly tell you that you're gorgeous just because it crossed his mind suddenly how pretty you are.
"why are you looking at me like that ? is there something wrong with my makeup ?" - "you're so pretty, i don't understand how it's possible."
if sometimes vernon just wants to stay quiet and not say a word, there are other times where the two of you end up talking for hours, jumping from subject to subject because one of you always has something to tell, something to debate about. when you are talking together, it's like you're inside of a little bubble where only you and vernon exist and you love it. that leads to the both of you having so many inside jokes that nobody gets - you're laughing like maniacs when everyone else around you is just confused and doesn't understand anything. honestly, sometimes your couple looks a little awkward from the outside, but it all fits perfectly and the way you're just so right for him is something vernon still has trouble understanding. sometimes, when he thinks that he doesn't deserve you, that he thinks he doesn't do enough to make you happy, you need to remind him that he's been perfect from the start. you can count the times you saw vernon crying with your fingers, but he knows that every time he's down, he can just let go in your embrace and let himself be vulnerable.
"i feel so safe when you're here, i don't ever want you to leave."
BF!VERNON who's just going with the flow because as long as he's inside of you, it doesn't matter if he's in control or not.
he's much more talkative when it comes to sex because he just cannot shut up when you're doing so good for him. whether it's praises, just some random thoughts, babbling or degrading words, he needs to speak to you through it. when he wants to tease you, he whispers his dirty words directly in your ears, knowing how much it turns you on. when he's just so lost in how good you feel, he just says whatever is on his mind - mostly compliments and swear words. when he's in a more romantic mood, he's constantly praising you, telling you again and again that you're perfect and gorgeous. and vernon also likes it when you're talking to him too, loves to hear you say how good he's making you feel, that you're close or that you want more. generally, the noises you make are really appreciated, even going as far as stopping you from putting your hand over your mouth when you think you're too loud because vernon wants to hear it all.
"shit… you're taking me so well, baby, i don't think i'm going to last if you keep squeezing around my cock like that."
just like vernon loves doing new activities with you, he also loves to experiment in the bedroom. you want to test something ? he's down. you have an unusual fantasy that you want to try ? no problem. after all, there's no harm in doing something out of the ordinary - if you both like it, it's good, and if you don't in the end, then it's okay too, you just won't do it again. that's how he discovered some things he didn't think he would like but that slowly became his favorites, like hair pulling for example. you ask him to pull on your hair all the time when he's taking you from behind, and he loves to do it to punish you too, but he came to wonder how it would feel if you pulled on his instead. so he asked, you did it, and he never wanted you to stop. no matter if he's eating you out or fucking you, vernon wants your fingers tugging on his strands hard enough to make it hurt a little. sometimes, you're pulling at each other's hair, moaning together at the feeling.
"want me to pull on your cute ponytail ? then pull on my hair too, yeah ? fuck, just like that…"
as stated before, he loves to watch you do almost anything, but he loves to watch you get off even more. when you're fucking, he cannot detach his eyes from your glistening folds, from his cock thrusting inside of you or from your face contorting in pleasure. so sometimes, he just leans back and asks you to touch yourself for him. he knows you're frustrated because he's just one feet away and he won't touch you, but he can't help it, he loves to see you masturbate. the fact that you whine about how your fingers cannot reach as deep as his, and that it's not fair gets him so hard. if vernon is in a teasing mood, he will even jerk off in front of you, just to make it "even". the feeling of cumming together, eyes in eyes, while you're both touching yourselves is unmatched for him. also a lot of phone sex is involved, whenever he's away, he calls you at night and asks you to facetime him and show him your cunt, to touch yourself in front of the camera for him. sometimes, he's jerking off too, but sometimes he only watches you reach your orgasm while biting his lips.
"show me your pretty cunt, baby. you're needy ? then put one finger in for me."
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dyaz-stories · 9 months
Text
in a world of boys, he's a gentleman || Park Chan-Young x f!Reader
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summary: Yeong-Su breaks a window at the stadium, and Chan-Young takes the blame for it, resulting in severe consequences. Fortunately, you're here to pick up the pieces afterwards.
word count: 3.1k
warnings & tags: spoilers for season 2 of sweet home, violence, injuries, soldiers being assholes, coarse language, making out, the pronoun "she" is used in reference to the reader
A/N: couldn't find gifs for chan-young so I made this one, but I'm by no means a gif maker, so, yeah. Also, I don't know anything about baseball, so please pretend this makes sense if you know better. I'm not sure which team Chan-Young was supposed to be on, so I picked the Doosan Bears because Sweet Home takes place in Seoul. Finally, it's my first time writing for him, so I hope you'll enjoy my take on this character!
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It’s another day at the stadium, which means it’s another day of boredom.
Oh, there are things to do around here, sure. If you don’t mind being ordered around by soldiers who stand behind you with a scowl on their face and remind you that the only reason you’re even there is because of their good will, you’ll find a job to do. Cleaning a corner of the stadium, probably, in hopes that someone will be able to live there — as if there were enough mattresses — or doing the inventory, again, while looking the other way when rations mysteriously go missing and everyone knows who’s doing the taking.
Thing is, you’ve never been one to grovel. In fact, back in the Before days, you were the one giving the orders. Youngest assistant coach for the Doosan bears, the Seoul baseball team, you were in line to become the youngest coach in the history of the country. And, yeah, you weren’t completely in charge, but you were trusted. You had responsibilities. People knew to take you seriously.
You’ve had ideas for how to run this place more efficiently, to avoid making the civilians feel like they’re second-rate citizens, but it’s been made clear to you that you weren’t welcome to make suggestions. So you haven’t bothered, lately, but you also won’t play in that stupid game, where people get to change the rules without telling you.
It means that you do a lot of aimless walking around in the stadium. Chief Ji implicitly lets you roam around, a testament to the fact that you knew each other well back in the days, when you used to bring her coffee before big games, but you mostly try to make yourself useful in the way soldiers haven’t bothered accounting for.
A lot of that means keeping an eye on kids that are left to themselves otherwise. Their parents are busy, and it’s not like there’s much to do for them, here, so you try to keep them entertained. Unfortunately, you’re no teacher, meaning that it’s a lot of physical activities, wherever you find enough place. Other days, people who are teachers take over for you. That is the case today, meaning you’d have the day ‘off’, if it weren’t for Yeong-Su not showing up for class.
You don’t personally think he should have to attend class. You know how mean the other kids can be to him, and though the teachers don’t do much in the name of keeping the peace, you don’t let that fly when you’re in charge. Which is probably why the kid never misses your classes, a small pride that you keep well tucked in your heart.
Still, the teachers insist that you make sure he’s okay, so you agree to go try and find him. He knows the stadium well, meaning it will be no easy task.
You end up finding him throwing a ball against a wall. It looks like he’s practicing his aim, you think when you notice that he’s drawn a square on it. You’re about to approach him, maybe give him a few pointers, when a particularly hard throw has the ball bouncing too high and it crashes through a window, finishing outside of the stadium.
You freeze. Monsters don’t approach the stadium much — it’s been months since there’s been a case of that happening.
But the mere thought of there being something open here still has your heart pounding with fear. It’s only a few seconds before you compose yourself, but that’s long enough for someone to come running. You rush towards Yeong-Su, prepared to fiercely defend him if you need to.
It’s Chan-Young, and you relax, even if your heart is now pounding for a whole other reason.
“What happened here?” he asks.
He may have been running with his whole equipment, but he shows no sign of being out of breath.
“I’m sorry,” Yeong-Su mumbles. He’s hard to handle, especially these days, but he clearly respects Chan-Young a lot. “I didn’t mean to— I was just practicing and—"
Oh gosh, you realize, kid was practicing pitching, and it’s not lost on you that that’s the position Chan-Young mainly played as.
“…and now I’ve lost my ball,” Yeong-Su sniffs.
He’s trying to hold back tears, and it tears a little piece of your heart away. You know that Yeong-Su had found a ball autographed by Chan-Young, know that it’s one of his most prized possessions. It’s no surprise that Yeong-Su can’t stand the thought of losing anything more than what he already has.
Chan-Young glances at you, still standing a few steps behind Yeong-Su.
“He didn’t mean to,” you say. “I’ll help you fix the window.” Eun-Yu probably won’t mind giving you a hand, too.
Chan-Young nods, and you watch as he puts a knee to the floor, so he’s at eye-level with Yeong-Su. If he was any other soldier, you’d be more cautious, but you know him. Worked with him, when he was on your team, lost him when he enlisted, and now you’re in this strange limbo, where he doesn’t seem to know how to interact with you, even though there is this obvious familiarity between the two of you, every time you do speak.
“You need to be more careful,” he tells Yeong-Su, putting on his Serious voice. “If a monster heard that and came in, it could be very dangerous for everyone. And if you’re in front of the window when it happens, it would attack you first. So don’t let that happen again, okay?”
Then he gives Yeong-Su a small, comforting smile.
“If you want to practice again, come ask me next time, okay?” He glances up at you, and there’s such softness in his eyes when he does. “Or ask the coach. She knows her stuff.”
You’d never become coach, not officially, but his use of the word makes your heart swell.
“Okay,” Yeong-Su mumbles, staring down at his feet.
For a moment, it looks like everything will resolve itself just like that, and you’re already putting a hand on Yeong-Su’s shoulders to pull him away with you, when you hear the familiar stomping of military boots coming towards you.
Chan-Young’s expression changes immediately.
“Go,” he orders.
“But…”
He spins around to grab your shoulders, lowering himself to look straight into your eyes.
“Go,” he repeats. “Please.”
There’s such urgency in his voice that you can’t deny him, even if you’re not sure what is going on exactly. You grab Yeong-Su’s hand and pull him with you until you’re both behind a corner, just in time. You keep an eye on the scene, confused. The soldiers behave like assholes, you know that, but surely—
“What happened here?” the Sergeant bellows in Chan-Young’s face. “You’re lucky it was us, who were standing outside the window, and not something else! You better have an explanation, soldier.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” Chan-Young says, shoulders straight, from what you can see. “I was just practicing and—”
Before you can wonder why he’d lie, the punch catches him in the stomach, and he doubles over in pain. You catch yourself before you can gasp out loud, and instinctively cover Yeong-Su’s mouth, which is probably a smart move, because he starts thrashing to run towards Chan-Young. You don’t blame him, but you also absolutely cannot let him do that, not right now.
“Yeong-Su,” you whisper, mimicking Chan-Young’s attitude with you just a minute ago. “You need to go back to Ms. Cha. Okay?”
“But they’re…”
You wince, because they’re still berating Chan-Young, and one of them has just given him a hard kick to the ribs. All the more reason for you to intervene.
“I’ll take care of it, I promise, but I can’t do that if you’re here. So go back to her, and I’ll come see you when everything is okay again, alright?”
He sniffs, rubs his eyes to hide the tears, then turns around and runs. At least he’s got a good survival instinct, you think, even if it hurts to remember where it comes from. The second you’re sure he’s not coming back, it’s your turn to run, but towards the soldiers this time, with a confidence that you now worry is wholly unwarranted.
“Hey, don’t you think that’s enough?” you interject, maneuvering so you can get between them and Chan-Young.
There’s a scoff and they roll their eyes. One of them puts his hand on your shoulder and pushes, but you barely take a step back. You’re used to men trying to intimidate you.
“I thought we’d made it clear that your opinions weren’t welcome,” Seo-Jin snaps at you, getting too close to your face for comfort — like that would make you budge.
“Doesn’t mean I’m going to let you beat up someone because he broke a fucking window, when if you’d gotten to work, that hole would be closed by now,” you reply on the same tone.
He opens his mouth to yell at you once more, a vein bulging on his forehead, when Chan-Young comes to stand in front of you. He’s barely just gotten on his feet, has one hand pressed against his rib cage, and still, he’s already coming to stop you from taking any risk. You want to scream at him and hug him all at the same time.
“Please, sir, she doesn’t have anything to do with this.”
Neither does he!
“That’s enough, Seo-Jin,” sergeant Kim finally intervenes, and the man immediately takes a step back. “Don’t let it happen again,” he tells Chan-Young. “And fix the hole,” he tells you, as an afterthought, before leaving and taking his team with him.
Your blood is boiling. He might try to be the voice of reason now, but you saw him doing nothing while his men got blood on their hands so he wouldn’t have to.
You don’t have time to think about it, though, because next to you, Chan-Young has slowly let himself slide to the floor.
“Are you okay?” you ask, panicked, while he grimaces and leans against the wall.
“I’m fine,” he says, an obvious lie. “You shouldn’t have said anything.”
“You took responsibility for something you had nothing to do with, but I’m the one who shouldn’t have said anything?”
He sighs, shakes his head.
“I just don’t want anything to happen to you,” he says. He looks at you with warm eyes, and you feel your breath catching in your throat.
There’s something about Chan-Young, there always has been. You always have to remind yourself that he’s nice to everyone, because he’s such a kind person. Even that didn’t stop you from falling for him — and it’s the second time that it happens, damn him.
“I’ll go get medical supplies,” you say, pushing yourself to your feet. “Stay here.”
“There’s no need to—”
“Please, do you want to die from an infection after surviving all these monsters? Stay. Here.”
You ignore any further protests as you rush to get the supplies.
It doesn’t take you long. Chief Ji provides you with what you need without questions, and apologizes for not being able to give you painkillers — they’re reserved for emergencies, she explains. You know the other supplies are, too, but you understand her reasoning, and just thank her with a quick nod and a promise to help out for the next few shifts outside the stadium, if she needs it.
When you come back, Chan-Young’s moved to sit on one of the boxes that are always laying around in here, and you grab another one to sit across from him.
“Open your jacket,” you say as you take the disinfectant.
“I— I don’t think that’s necessary—”
“C’mon, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” you say with an eyeroll, because the guys on the team weren’t exactly shy about taking their shirt off in front of you and he should remember that.
He clears his throat and glances away, and you notice his ears turning red.
“Um, right. Yeah. Just a second.”
Under the jacket, he’s wearing a simple white t-shirt, and he lifts it up so you can see for yourself.
And it’s not looking good. The area is red and swollen already, and you worry it will be worse soon. Unfortunately, there’s not much you can do about that, so you disinfect the scratches caused by the boots, and gesture for him to put it back down. You’d normally advise to put something cold on it, to calm the swelling, but that’s not really an option here, not when the little electricity you have is mostly used to keep the lights on.
“Try not to move around too much, okay?”
“I’ll try my best,” he says with a brief laugh. It’s a silly recommendation, and you both know it, but you still felt the need to say something.
“Now give me your hand, I’ll see what I can do.”
He does, and you carefully turn it to check the palm. You’re not sure if he hurt himself when he fell earlier, or if it’s just that there’s constantly manual work to be done and it’s hard not to injure your hand. Either way, you start cleaning it and disinfecting it as well.
“Do you think they would have been as hard on a kid?” you ask.
“No!” he protests immediately, maybe a tad too strongly. “They’re humans. I’m sure they wouldn’t have—” He interrupts himself, and you suspect that he knows they still could have hit him, a thought that makes your stomach turn. “But… Yeong-Su’s had a hard enough life as it is. People here are not… kind to him.”
“I’m not blaming you, especially after that,” you sigh, “I just— You do realize that it’s not your responsibility, right? I’d have helped the kid, and it could have ended better than…”
You gesture vaguely at him, and he closes his eyes for a second. He closes his fingers over yours where you’re holding his hand, rubs his thumb over your skin, which sends a wave of heat through your body. It only lasts a moment, though, before he catches himself and lets go.
“I’m— I was in charge, when his sister— I was supposed to be helping them. And I failed him.”
“What?” Ms. Cha told you that story, in hushed whispers, to explain why Yeong-Su was such a complicated child these days. It had been clear that there was nothing Chan-Young could have done. “You can’t blame yourself for someone turning into a monster and going on a rampage.”
“It happened on my watch,” he insists. “If I’d been more careful— If I hadn’t left the bus—”
You stop yourself to look at him straight in the eye. He’s close, but you don’t feel uncomfortable, not with him.
“That could have happened to anyone. You couldn’t have planned for it.” He exhales, long and slow.
“Thank you for saying that,” he says, but you can tell that your words haven’t sunk in. It breaks your heart, and yet you have no idea what more you can say. After all, you weren’t there. It makes sense that he wouldn’t believe you.
“You still shouldn’t put yourself in the line of danger to—” to what, anyway? Expiate his sins? What does he have to prove? Does he have a death wish or something? “You shouldn’t put yourself in danger when you don’t have to.”
“Better me than Yeong-Su,” he insists. “He’s just a kid, and he has his mom — well, Ms. Cha. And he has you.” You set the disinfectant back down, hands almost trembling as you realize where he’s going with this. “Better me than him,” he just concludes sadly.
“Park Chan-Young,” you say, “you don’t seriously think that, right?”
He doesn’t meet your eyes when he replies.
“He has a family here. I— don’t really have anyone—”
You’re not sure what goes through your head when you put your hand on his cheek and kiss him. If you had to rationalize it — which you’re not really in any position to do when it happens — you’d say that you just wanted to prove him how wrong he was. Truth is, though, that you also couldn’t bear the idea that you were letting him believe that when it was so entirely untrue.
His lips are warm against yours, and you think you feel him leaning into you, but you pull away too soon to know.
“There,” you say as you gather your things. “Now you know you do have someone, so don’t put yourself in danger unnecessarily, alright?”
Then you’re on your feet, hell-bent on fleeing the scene.
Of course, Chan-Young catches up with you in an instant. He grabs your wrist, and pulls you back against him. His eyes are wide as he searches yours.
“Did you mean that?” he asks, his voice catching in his throat.
“Mean what?” Your heart is pounding in your chest. You’re… not sure where he is going with this.
“It wasn’t pity, right? You— I have you?”
The words almost send a shiver down your spine.
“Of course you do. I don’t exactly go around kissing people—”
Next thing you know, his hands are cupping your face and his mouth is on yours. He kisses you feverishly, like he desperately needs you to prove your words to him. You kiss back without hesitation, wrapping your arms around his neck. It isn’t long before your back hits the wall and you let out a brief groan.
“Sorry,” he says, pulling away from you to check on you. “Are you—”
You don’t let him finish, pulling him back down against you. His hands move down to your waist, one of them slipping under your t-shirt to feel your bare skin. He’s kissing you slower now, more sensual, and he abandons your mouth to kiss down your jaw, then your neck, before he comes back to your lips.
“I shouldn’t—” he mumbles against you. “I’m not supposed to—”
“Everyone’s doing it,” you reply, but it doesn’t surprise you when he tears himself away from you. He’s a sight to behold, flushed and out of breath — and is it odd that you enjoy seeing him panting from kissing you when you know he can run for hours without struggling? He’s always been one to stick to the rules closely. It says a lot that he broke one right now, but you won’t push him any further, not until he’s ready.
You take a step back towards him, take his hand in yours, and press your lips to his cheek for one last, soft kiss.
“Don’t forget now,” you say. “You have me. Don’t risk your life without thinking.”
He doesn’t kiss you again, but he leans in to press his forehead against yours, squeezing your hand in his.
“I have you,” he repeats, as if to convince himself. “I have you.”
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I hope you liked it! as always, if you did, consider reblogging and letting me know what you thought! feedback is really motivating and is what keep us authors going, so leaving a comment or sending an ask or anything really helps to keep me writing!
more writing for sweet home
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fraugwinska · 6 months
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Since your requests are open… can I request Alastor taking care of his sick wife? The crew noticed their mia and Alastor slinks away to their hotel room to find them dying (metaphorically) in their nest of blankets?
Thank you ;—; I love your writing sm! ฅ(•ㅅ•)ฅ
Whew - that was a first for me :D Switching it up for a little Alastor POV ;> I hope you like it, lovely Anon! (P.S. - The song mentioned is 'Unforgettable' by Nat King Cole)
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
In Sickness and in Health
Alastor's day couldn't get better – adding another, large territory to his nicely growing collection, visiting his dear friend Rosie along the way, and now returning to his diddy hotel, full of entertainment, and with his lovely wife waiting for his return: He was in a rightfully jolly mood.
He'd left so early in the morning, letting his love sleep in deep, heavy breaths, he was wondering what she had been up to this day? On the way back, he stopped by the florist, careful not to touch the delicate, burgundy blossoms of the chrysanthemums, her favourites.
He entered the hotel to find the residents deeply engaged in another of the princess's silly bonding activities – a game of charades, as it seemed. Alastor watched them with curiosity as Angel Dust gestured wildly, while the others screamed in chaos, throwing guesses his way.
„Fuck, man, come on! I'm making it OBVIOUS here!“, Angel moaned, throwing his hands frustrated into the air.
„The hell you are – you look like you're hurlin' yo' last drink like a garden sprinkler.“, Husk replies dryly, rubbing his temples, while the girls just look confused.
„It's fucking MOTORBOATING, jesus christ on a cracker!“
The group groans, exept for Vaggie, who runs over to him and grabs the card the flamboyant spider waves around.
„It's just 'Motorboat', you idiot.“ „Potayto, Potahto.“
Alastor, having heard enough of that nonsense, closed the entrance noisily. Charlies head whipped around to see him.
„Oh, hey Alastor, you're back early.“, she chirped, ignoring the still arguing group behind her. Alastor walked over and smiled down at her. „Business went better than I expected, dear. And you all are as... aspiring as ever, I see?“ He let his gaze fall back to the group, counting – five heads. Not six. „Would you happen to know where my darling doe is?“
Charlie blinked. „Umm.“, she turned to look at the group, as if she expected her to be there. Alastors eyes narrowed as the princess asked timidly if anyone had seen her.
„Nope, not me.“ „Didn't turn up on the bar, either.“ „She missed breakfast, too“ Alastor huffed, feeling anger bubbling up in his stomach at the blatant negligence of his companions. He left Charlie and the others standing without a word, looking rightfully guilty and shouting apologies at his back. He made a mental note to plan an appropriate response to this mishap, and fastened his steps to his suite.
He knocked on the door, softly. No response. He listened intensely. „My love, are you in there?“ A quiet groan, muffled through thick wood and creaking walls, barely audible.
He opened the door his eyes searching through the dimly lit room - the curtains of the windows were still closed, just like he left them this morning.
„Alastor?“, he heard your voice, weak and tired, from inside the pile of cushions, pillows and blankets piled up on the shared bed.
He quickly set the flowers down on the bureau before he peeled layers of fabric off the built fort to reveal his precious doe – face reddened, hair damp with sweat and deep, panting in straint breaths. Her eyes opened slowly, they were watery and dull.
„Hello...“, she said, a small smile on her dried lips. „Hello, my love.“, he answered, brushing her hair out her face with timid fingers – when they touched her forehead, it was burning hot. Alastor frowned.
„You are sick, my doe....“ She hummed in response. A shiver made her pull the blankets around her closer to her. „I think I'm dying again.“ Alastor chuckled softly, cupping her cheek - heat poured from her scorching skin into his cold palms.
„Always so dramatic. No love, you're certainly not dying. Boiling yourself, maybe. You have a raging fever, sweet thing.“
„Potayto, Potahto...“, she murmured. Alastor scrunched his nose – Angel Dust certainly had a bad influence on his wife.
„Now, now, no reason to call for the mortician, love. Let's get you out of these dampened clothes for a start, shall we?“
She whined from the coldness he exposed her to, grabbing his arms as he pulled her out of the many layers of fabric and peeled the sweat-drenched clothes from her burning body. Her usually smooth and tender skin was colored in angered flushes of read, mimicking the blazing temperature she radiated. While he worked on getting her in fresh, clean pajamas, he murmured soft reassurances and sweet words of comfort to her.
Alastor knew she hated the feeling of helplessness a sickness brought with it. Her demise had been sudden, painful and most importantly lonely, having no one by her side while the disease had eaten her alive.
He placed her back into bed, a snap of his fingers had disassembled the abhorrent nest she had built, linens clean, soft and dry. She whimpered when he opened the windows to let some fresh air into the room, but sighed in sweet relief when the cold cloth he conjured for her cooled her forehead.
“Can you play something for me?”, she whispered after he had convinced her to drink some water, her lids heavy and almost out of consciousness.
Alastor brushed her cheeks tenderly.
“Of course my treasured girl.”
He pulled the chair from his bureau next to the bed, settling down with her hand in his. He chose the song carefully – it was the one she and him first danced to, when he and her were two singulars still, instead of one plural.
The soft tunes of the celeste and piano drove the dreadful, deafening silence out of the room, and when Nat King Coles voice started to serenade, her face relaxed into a serene smile, breaths flattening into calm draws of air.
Alastor watched his wife drift into healing slumber, her skin color already fading into her more normal shade. Relieved, he stroked his thumb delicately over her fingers, still safely wound around his. Yes. Alastor knew she hated the helplessness a sickness brought with it. But at least, this time, he could be there to guide her through it.
587 notes · View notes
dollfacefantasy · 11 months
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Just Like the Movies
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pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: your boyfriend dons the ghostface mask to let you live out a fantasy
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, cnc, praise/degradation, knife play, predator/prey dynamic (he chases her idk what to call it), dacryphilia, voyeurism mentions
word count: 3.4k
a/n: i wanted to write at least one spooky thing for halloween and i love scream so here you go. i'm working on requests i promise, i just wanted to get this out before october ends. as always, thank you for the comments and reblogs <3
tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz ghostface photo used in the header is from @/oikizumi on pinterest!
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An old scary movie plays on the television as you relax on the couch after a hard week. You had a soft blanket draped over you and a bowl of popcorn in your lap. The missing piece was your boyfriend. You were just waiting for him to come home and join you for your little makeshift marathon.
You casually watch the movie while lifting handfuls of popcorn to your mouth. You had seen this one before so it wasn’t scaring you, but it was entertaining enough to pass the time with until Leon returned to you.
It was getting to be that time of evening when he usually came marching through the door, tired from work but still with open arms for you to slide into. He hadn’t come home yet though. As you’re wondering where your lover could be, your phone begins to ring.
You sit up and grab it from the table in front of you.
No caller ID.
You raise your eyebrows at the strange nature of that. Assuming it’s a scam call though, you leave it be. However, the phone rings again. You actively decline the call this time. You place your phone down again, hoping that would be the end.
It wasn’t though because not even a minute later, your phone vibrates again.
You reach for the device and see a text message pop up on your lock screen.
‘Don’t ignore me, pretty girl.’
That piques your curiosity. When the phone rings again, you click the answer button and bring it to your ear.
“Hello?” you say.
“Finally, she answers the phone,” a smooth, predatory voice teases.
“Who is this?” you ask.
“Oh c’mon, you don’t wanna ruin the fun already, do you babydoll?” he purrs.
“Well, what do you want?” you ask. The cadence of the voice was familiar, but the actual sound of it, you couldn’t place. It didn’t sound like anyone you knew in real life.
“To talk to you. I guess you could say I’m kind of lonely,” he says with mock sadness.
“Aw, well I’m not, so bye,” you say and hang up the phone. As you begin to place that voice and the cadence behind it, Leon’s late arrival makes sense. You had disclosed this little fantasy to him recently. And it seemed like he had got the modulator to sound just like the movie for you.
Not even ten seconds go by before the phone rings again. An excited chill comes over you as you lift it and accept the call.
“Hello?”
“Why’d you hang up on me, angel? That’s not very nice of you,” he taunts, “You doing something better right now?”
“Mhm,” you hum.
“Yeah? What’s so important that you can’t spare a few moments of your precious time?”
“I’m about to watch some scary movies,” you say, a smile spreading on your face. You sit up on the couch more as you feel where this conversation is going.
“Scary movies? I like scary movies,” he says, “Tell me, do you have a favorite?”
“I like Scream. You ever seen that one?” you say teasingly.
“I’m familiar,” he says, “That one’s not really scary though. I bet I could give you more of a thrill.”
“Mm, maybe. But sadly for you, my boyfriend will be home soon.”
“Boyfriend? That’s a shame,” he says, his voice becoming a hint darker.
“I’m sure it is. Anyways, I should be going…” you trail off knowingly.
“C’mon, blondie can wait a few more minutes.”
“Blonde,” you repeat slowly, feigning fear, “How do you know he’s blonde?”
“I’ve been watching you for a while, baby. Had to make sure everything would be perfect tonight,” he says with a low laugh, “Let’s just say that we have plenty of time now.”
“Why are you doing this? Who are you?” you say, cranking up the fear in your voice. You stand up from the couch and walk to a window to see if you can spot him outside.
“That doesn’t matter, sweetheart. Plus, I thought girls liked the whole man of mystery thing,” he chuckles, “You’re honestly telling me this doesn’t turn you on?”
“It doesn’t!” you say defensively.
“Are you sure about that?” he breathes, “When I cut those slutty little shorts off you, I’m not gonna find a messy cunt crying for me to fill her?”
“No…” you say, your cheeks heating up while arousal pools in your belly.
“You don’t sound so sure,” he teases, “Y’know, I think I can see your nipples getting hard under that thin shirt all the way from here.”
You quickly step away from the window, a shiver shooting up your spine. You bite your lip. “Please don’t hurt me,” you whimper.
His cruel laugh crackles through the phone. “I wanna hear you cry like that when you’re cumming all over my cock.”
Every word tumbling from his lips stoked the flames of desire within you. Your veins were coursing with a primal need at this point.
“I’m gonna call the police,” you say. Your voice was breathy in what could be interpreted as terror, but in reality, it was pure lust.
“Do you think that would stop me?” he rasps into the phone, “Because, we both know I would get to you before the operator could even take your address. But let’s say you did get through. I can be quick, doll. Take what’s mine and have that tight pussy full of my cum with time to spare.”
You shift your thighs and look for the smallest semblance of friction as he lays this out to you.
“By the time any cop did get here, all they would find is a pathetic little mess, lying on the ground all fucked out and bred, a dumb smile on that pretty face.”
The tiniest whine escapes your throat from that mental image. You wonder if he heard it, but the throaty chuckle on the other end answers your question.
“You dirty fucking whore. You love this. You wanna be pinned down and used until your sweet mind is broken and completely cock drunk.”
“No, I don’t,” you say, trying to keep up the act of defiance even though your desire was palpable in your voice.
“Well, too bad. But I’ll be generous, little one. I’m telling you that I’m coming in now. A little head start if you’re smart,” he says, “You better not waste my fucking time. Give me a good chase, or I’m not gonna be nice when I catch you. Find out if your insides are as pretty as the outside.”
You hang up the phone. Your body was on fire with a mix of adrenaline and arousal. You scamper through the house into another room, wondering what to even start with. Your thoughts are cut off when you hear the back door slide open.
Your pulse thunders in your ears. You move quietly across the room you’re in, peering through the doorway back into the living room. You see him. That tall and fit body donned in a tight black t-shirt and pants. He wears black leather boots on his feet. A large hunting knife is strapped to his belt. His head is covered, and when he turns, your heart seizes at the sight of the ghostface mask.
He catches a glimpse of you through the cracked door and starts toward you. You zoom through the other door in the room, maneuvering quickly around furniture and stray clutter. Then, you loop back to the open back door. You can hear him clambering through the hall behind you. Primal fear courses through you, instinctually telling every cell in your body to run.
“Where do you think you’re going, sugar?” you hear the voice modulator crackle.
Moving through the sliding door, you dart across the backyard. The grass was wet against your feet since you didn’t have the time to grab a pair of shoes. You fumble with the gate, your hands shaking from the adrenaline coursing through you. You try to shut it behind you to delay him, but he’s already so close.
You continue sprinting into the woods behind your home. The area surrounding you was dark. It was cold out too. Your skin had broken out into goosebumps, your thin shirt and shorts not providing much warmth, and your bare feet only exacerbating the feeling.
There were trees everywhere, and it felt like there were things hiding within the dense woodland. The whole time you focused on not running into a tree, you could hear him behind you. His breathing was heavier, but it was clear he was exerting minimal effort.
You jump over overgrown roots and duck under stray branches. Despite running for a bit, you still weren’t too deep in the woods. You shoot a look behind you, trying to see if you were any closer to losing him than before. He’s just as close, and in the midst of your attempted glance, your foot catches on a rock. You cry out and tumble to the ground. Skin scrapes against the dirt and rocks beneath you.
He slows his pace to a simple walk, pulling the hunting knife from the sheath. The wide blade shimmers in the pale moonlight. He holds it up and drags a gloved fist over the silver, just like in the movies. Another, low laugh breaks through the speaker of the modulator.
“Too easy, princess,” he taunts, “Get up and keep running.”
Your eyes widen and blood rushes to the lower region of your body at the command. You stumble to your feet and stagger away. Your foot aches a little from the rock and the fall, but you continue in earnest.
He lets you go on for a while longer. Occasionally, he would intentionally fall behind, giving you the illusion that you could outrun him. But also filling you with the dread that you would be out in those woods alone.
Soon enough, he’s had enough of the chase. He speeds up and hooks his arms around your waist. He pulls you to the ground in a swift motion, whipping around your body so quickly that you could barely see it. He’s got one of his knees holding your dominant arm down while a hand holds the knife to your throat. You squirm and whimper under him, causing him to shake his head and make a noise of mock disappointment.
“Poor baby. You did all you could, didn’t you?” he coos menacingly, leaning down closer to your face, “Look at you. Out of breath, heart beating out of your chest. You tried so hard.”
He brings the knife up to your cheek and drags the tip across, not cutting you but letting you feel the cool metal on your soft skin. You whine and scrunch your face in discomfort, eliciting a cruel laugh from him. He drops the knife nearby and shakes his head.
“Not a fan of knives, sweet thing? Too scary?”
Next, you try recoiling from his touch, but he’s caging your body on the ground. The damp dirt presses against your back and smears on his clothing as he wrestles with you to keep you in place. Again, you can see how little effort it takes for him to keep you down. The display of strength has your heart beating harder with lust.
“Keep fighting me, little one. It’s my favorite part,” he breathes before shifting on top of you and roughly flipping you over.
Now, squirming only rubs your face into the soil beneath you. In this position, you can feel his hard cock against your ass. He reaches over for the knife again and brings it to the base of your spine. He uses his knee to hold down your arm again, so he can pull your skimpy top taut and slice through it with ease.
He handles you like a ragdoll and yanks it off. The knife falls to the ground again as he reaches around your body with both gloved hands to knead your breasts. You whimper at the harsh squeezes and rolls of his fingers. His face is right next to your head, and you can hear his ragged breathing under the mask.
He pinches and teases your nipples, your noises now becoming obviously pleasurable. A hand slides into your hair and grips the roots as he shoves your face to the ground. Your cheek is smooshed on the cool surface, and your lips part as your own breathing picks up. Your hips are still squirming, but now only to try and feel some friction with his dick.
“There we go. Such a little slut. Didn’t take much for you to give in. You know this is where you belong. Beneath me, stuffed full of my cock,” he groans.
His hands glide down your body, pulling your hips into place. He tugs your shorts and panties down to your knees, humming in satisfaction when he sees your dripping cunt. Two leather-covered fingers slide through your slick. They circle your puffy clit, drawing mewls from your throat. The fingers then dip inside you and pump in and out a few times. Your body shudders at the sensation.
“So fucking wet. You like this even more than I thought. So sick baby. My twisted little doll,” he teases.
He plants his free hand on the back of your neck and digs his fingers into the side of your throat. His other hand continues working your aching pussy, adding in another finger to your needy hole. You choke out a few moans as your breathing becomes more like panting.
“All this for just my fingers? Can’t imagine how you’re gonna cry on my cock. Maybe scream for me a few times,” he purrs.
After a bit more, he pulls his fingers out of your pussy, shushing you when you whine in protest. You hear the sound of a zipper and the rustle of fabric being adjusted. It isn’t long before you feel the heat of his cock prodding your entrance. You shift your hips back, taking the tip in.
He grunts and his breath hitches as you clamp down on the sensitive head. Once he regains his composure, he slams his hips forward, sheathing himself fully inside you with one thrust. You cry out and claw the dirt beneath you.
“You wanna be an impatient little bitch, I’m not gonna be gentle with you. If you’re so fucking needy that you can’t wait two seconds for my dick, I’ll treat you like the cockslut you are, sweetheart,” he says before beginning to rock his hips back and forth.
He finds a rhythm with ease. One of his hands gives your ass a few firm smacks while his other hand returns to your head to pull on your hair. The noise of your skin connecting sounds through the woods along with your whining. His grip on your hair is like a vise. The mild sting of the pull mixed with the rush of pleasure from him drilling into you brings some tears to your eyes.
“That’s right, fucking take it. This is what you were made for, sweet girl. Your body knows it,” he grunts as your walls flutter around him.
He smacks your ass again while getting more erratic with his thrusts. The hand in your hair returns to your hip to give him more leverage. His digits dig into your skin to the point of potential bruises. You whimper and moan, your head becoming cloudy while he stretches you out.
His quiet moans hit your ears and make your stomach erupt with butterflies. You tighten around his shaft. You were starting to work up a sweat despite the cool temperature of the air around you. You shudder and twitch, only causing him to hold you tighter.
Your back arches as more sinful noises pour from your lips. A particular thrust snaps something in you and breaks the dam that was holding in your tears. It felt like he was stroking deeper than ever before, and you just couldn’t hold it in. Warm drops stream from your eyes while your whimpering grows louder and less controlled.
“Are you crying, little love?” he coos, but you can hear the smirk in his voice. He starts rubbing your back with even, soothing strokes without stopping his thrusts, “Cry it out, sweetheart. It just feels too good, doesn’t it?”
“Y-yeah,” you whimper with a weak nod.
“Yes it does. I know, baby,” he says condescendingly. His gloved hand continues caressing your back while he snaps in and out. You grow louder still, whining and moaning through tears.
“Someone’s gonna hear you, doll,” he teases. Your cheeks warm with embarrassment, but you’re past the point of being able to control your volume. “You’d probably get off on that though, you little freak.”
“N-no,” you stutter out in an attempt to defend yourself, but you’re cut off by your own gasps of pleasure.
“No? You wouldn’t cum on the spot if someone saw you like this? Taking my cock like the good little whore you are. Crying cause it’s just too much for you.”
You shake your head as best you can while being pressed against the ground. Your pussy clenches around him though from the description alone.
“Sure,” he chuckles before grunting, “Someone could be watching right now. It’s so fucking dark out here you wouldn’t even know.”
You can’t hide the thrill that gives you. A loud cry tears through you and your hips squirm within his grasp, trying to get you to that peak.
“Yeah, I know you like that,” he growls, leaning down and encasing you with his arms. The new angle lets him piston himself even deeper within you.
He keeps grinding himself into you as you both feel the coils of release getting closer to snapping. One of his arms snakes around your head, his bicep curling around your neck. The plastic front of the ghostface mask presses into the side of your head. He’s grunting and moaning into your ear, bringing you right to the edge.
“I feel it coming, honey. Let it go. Cream on my cock, baby girl. Give it all to me,” he mumbles.
With no reason to hold back, you let your release explode. You writhe in his hold, gasping and crying as euphoria floods your being. You bite your lip and tilt your head back to nuzzle and sloppily kiss at the mask.
He’s not far behind you. A few thrusts later, he’s draining himself in you, filling your insides with hot and sticky cum. His hips sputter and the mask becomes misaligned on his head as the two of you press against each other.
You’re both panting in the end. Leon pulls out and rolls off of you, landing on the ground next to you. You don’t move from your place in the dirt and just look over at him. He tugs off the mask and drops it near the knife. For the first time tonight, you see his charming smile and sweet eyes, a sharp contrast to the performance he just put on. He leans over and gives you a soft kiss as he adjusts the rest of his clothing.
You still don’t move from your position. He sits up and rubs your back again. His hands massage the muscles there for a moment before trailing down your leg. He gently lifts your foot and kisses your ankle.
“Your foot ok, baby?” he asks while rubbing your thigh. Even after all that, he hadn’t forgotten your fall earlier.
“Mhm,” you hum with a nod.
“Ok, good,” he says. 
He starts to help you roll over so you can get up. He smiles at you, brushing some dirt off your cheek.
“Let’s get you home so we can shower,” he says and helps you pull your shorts back on as you sit up. He kisses your temple a few times and strokes your hair, “Then we can cuddle and watch some scary movies.”
That makes you crack a smile, and you kiss his lips.
“Let’s get home quick. It’s cold out here, and I don’t have a shirt anymore thanks to you,” you tease.
You rise to your feet and lean on him for support. He picks up the knife and mask as well as the scrap of cloth that was once your top. He offers it to you with a sheepish smile. You roll your eyes and shake your head.
“Guess, you’ll just have to stay close then,” he says and tucks you under his arm. He kisses the crown of your head before you two start walking back through the woods to your home together.
1K notes · View notes
moonydustx · 5 months
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how they would react to F!Reader saying she's pregnant but with Shanks, Rayleigh and Law?
Oi oi! Turu bem? Vou deixar até o comecinho da resposta em português porque sim hahahahah primeiro, obrigada pelo pedido e segundo, eu acho que me empolguei escrevendo de novo, sou inimiga do resumo. O do Ray acho que pode ter ficado um pouco confuso porque tentei usar as duas eras (como pode ele ser tãão saborosíssimo toda vez que aparece, af). Mas é isso, obrigadão e espero que goste <3
And here’s the translation of the day: Hey Hey! How are you? I'll even leave the beginning of the answer in portuguese because yes hahahahah (for those who don't understand PT-BR, I discovered that the requester is brazilian like me) firstly, thank you for the request and secondly, I think I got carried away writing again. I think Ray's might have been a little confusing because I tried to use both eras (how can he be so delicious every time he appears, haha). But that's it, thank you and I hope you like it <3
Oh, and hello @badlandsx! I'm tagging you here because I saw your request about Law, but don't worry, I'll soon write the other part that you also requested. Thank you <3
requests open | one piece masterlist (other pregnancy stories are here)
Warnings are place individually in each story.
Rayleigh
Warnings: mentions of new and old Ray, like I said I love them both. Buggy and Shanks kids are one of my favorite things about Roger's era, so we have them here. Mention to F!Reader being an herbalist. Brief not-so-canonical mention of Sabaody's arc.
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Acid temperament, answers on the tip of the tongue, a captivating smile. Rayleigh didn't have much of an option but to fall in love at first sight when you two bumped into each other in a random bar on a random island. It didn't matter anymore when he managed to convince you to be part of the crew. Your knowledge of herbs and medicines was just an excuse he used to get the captain to accept - and Roger knew Silvers Rayleigh enough to know it was just a pretext for you to get on board.
It didn't take long for the glances exchanged and toasts proposed to turn into hidden moments at Oro Jackson, kisses stolen when others weren't looking, that turned into a golden ring around your finger. Now, such moments had turned into a new life being generated in you.
"You should stay less agitated for now, please." Crocus asked. You had come up with a lame excuse for him to stay on the ship with you while the others had disembarked. "By my reckoning, these are still the first few months, it's the most sensitive period. Any more aggressive activity can bring risks."
"You will die?" Buggy's squeaky voice caught the two of you's attention. When you found the spot where the boy was hiding, you saw Shanks cover his companion's mouth.
"Nothing like that, come here." you leaned on the counter, calling out to the two who soon stopped in front of you. "How much of our conversation did you hear?"
"That you don't really know what to do, and that you need to be less agitated and that you're sensitive." Shanks took the lead, listing, Buggy came further behind, eyes attentive to your every movement.
The two boys already saw you almost as a motherly figure, always trying to hide and lean on you whenever they got into trouble, of course they would be scared to hear such loose information.
"I'll trust you two, but I want you both to keep your mouth shut." you bent down to his level. "I'm pregnant, but it's too early for anyone to know, okay?"
"Pregnant?" they both screamed and you covered their mouths. Further behind you, Crocus was deliberately laughing at the two boys' reactions. "Does that mean it's the baby that's hurting you?" Buggy completed.
"No one was hurt." the doctor took the lead, explaining to both of them. "A pregnant woman requires more care and is also more sensitive. Well, you knowing this can be of great help."
"What do you mean by that?" Just like you, the boys seemed to have doubt written all over their faces.
"Someone here loves to get into trouble, until Rayleigh finds out and can keep an eye on you, you two are responsible for it. No fights, no crazy adventures, no almost anything." the man laughed when he saw your indignant expression.
"I promise to keep her and the baby safe." Shanks puffed out his chest, taking pride in what he had said.
"What? I promise more than him." Buggy grumbled.
"As long as you both promise to keep quiet, that's fine with me."
When the two youngest saluted, you knew you were screwed.
It was difficult to disguise such a situation when in the following days the two of them became your shadow. The only time you could see yourself alone was going to the bathroom. If you went to your little corner to work, one of the two would be sitting next to you, following everything you explained to them - since they were there, they would learn something. In day-to-day tasks, one of them always set out to do his part. Rayleigh was already finding their little movement strange, but he knew how attached you were to both of them, so it wasn't something that bothered him.
"I'm going to take advantage of the fact that it's our last day here and I'm going to go down to the village, I need to get some materials." you announced. "Does anyone need anything?"
"Everything's fine here." Gaban warned and one by one, the other companions agreed.
"Wait!" a panting Buggy ran across the boat. "I'll go with you."
"Get out you fool, I'll go." Shanks shouted from the other side.
"Come on, the three of you, what do you think?" you suggested, before his little fight escalated.
"You two don't think you're stealing much of my wife's attention, do you?" Rayleigh proposed, seeing the two swallow hard and deny it. "Alright, enjoy the little walk."
It was supposed to be a quick visit to the island, if the boys didn't decide to start trouble with one of the sellers, you got in the middle and now you were lying on your ass on the floor - in the pushing and shoving, there ended up being a push for you while arguing with the seller . Before you could calm the boys down, you saw them running towards the ship, shit.
Rayleigh's attention was stolen when he saw the two crew members rushing into the Oro Jackson. Buggy burst into tears and insults directed at his friend, while Shanks seemed to be looking for someone specific. You, however, were not with them. It didn't take much to connect the facts.
"Where is she?" He approached the kids, completely ignoring them. "What happened?"
"A tragedy." Buggy, dramatically, started crying even more.
"You idiot! We can't tell them anything." Shanks poked Buggy, who immediately retaliated with a push.
"Crocus said we should keep an eye on her and now she's fallen and is going to die!"
"She fell?" Rayleigh was already impatient with their drama, unable to find any connection in their grumbling. "Explain this properly."
"It was just a fall, nothing big." the redhead tried to alleviate the situation.
"Boys, it was just a fall, she's definitely gotten herself into bigger trouble." Roger laughed, watching the two boys pushing each other.
"I don't want to know. Where's Crocus?" Buggy grumbled, ignoring the captain's own laughter and his friend's false calm temperament.
"What kind of fall was that for you two to be so worried about?" Rayleigh held out his hands, pushing the two boys apart by their foreheads.
"This idiot went looking for a fight." Shanks tried to reach the clown, stopped by the first mate's hand.
"And this idiot who doesn't know how to keep his tongue in his mouth." Buggy fought back, only hitting the air.
"First she said we were supposed to be quiet."
"You knock down a pregnant woman and I'm the one who has to stay quiet!" The words that came out of Buggy were able to provoke silence among the other pirates. "Shit!"
"She's going to kill us man."
"Where is she?" Crocus appeared, stopping in front of the boys and an astonished Rayleigh. "How did she fall? What's all that crying, Buggy?"
"Is she the pregnant woman?" Rayleigh asked in a much calmer tone than usual.
The hands were now no longer used to separate the boys, they just hung beside his body. Seeing the two kids swallow hard and look at each other, Rayleigh no longer needed any more answers.
"Rayleigh, Crocus go to her, now." Even with Roger's orders, Rayleigh was already heading in the direction of leaving the boat, not worrying about who would follow him.
Upon entering the village, it didn't take many steps for them to find you - only then did Rayleigh notice the doctor's presence. What was strange was finding you still lying on the floor, your elbows propped up to keep your face up while you were still arguing with the man in front of you. You didn't look hurt, you just looked mad at the man.
"It was just some herbs!" you shouted, excited.
"You idiot! If it was just some herbs, you should pay." the man shouted back.
Before you could respond, a body appeared in front of you and you didn't need much to recognize that it was your husband.
"What is happening?" his patient voice asked, looking at you over his shoulder. "I see that you seem to have problems with my wife."
"You see, she allowed two boys to steal herbs from my store."
"That is true?" he turned to you, finding a wry smile. Your permissiveness with the boys would still kill him. "How much does she owe you?"
The man spoke and almost as if predicting the problem, Crocus threw some coins to Rayleigh, who handed them to the man. A few seconds later, they were both around you.
"Did you get hurt?" the doctor asked, seeing your eyes dart from his to your husband's. "Buggy accidentally told him that little secret."
"Shit." your grumble was low, in a way you avoided looking at Rayleigh. "Maybe I spent my money buying some sweets for the three of us, but I needed those herbs too." you list, feeling your face burn with guilt and shame.
"Do you feel any pain?" Rayleigh asked, his voice almost forcing you to face him. Without finding words, you just denied it. "Great. Let's go back to the ship."
Crocus supported you by the waist and as soon as you stood up, you bitterly regretted having denied the question your husband had asked. The excruciating pain that shot up from your foot made you scream and fall forward, being held by Rayleigh.
"I was wrong, so wrong, what the hell." you grumbled, taking your aching foot off the ground. "It fucking hurts, it really hurts, Ray, do something." your teary eyes searched for his, who looked attentively in your direction.
"First I need you to calm down, sweetheart." he asked, wrapping his arm around you and providing even more support. "Crocus, what do we have?"
"Let me see." he bent down again, finding a swollen ankle. "It could just be a sprain or it could be broken, let's go back and that way I can see calmly."
"Go ahead, I'll take her."
The doctor took a few steps away and the two of you remained there for a few seconds, until Rayleigh took you in his arms and took you back to the ship. You knew he wanted to tell you something, but you also knew that that wasn't the appropriate place.
Before you could receive the necessary medical attention, you needed to calm both boys down. Maybe the explanation you and Crocus gave the two of them earlier had been too much for them to think that a little fight would bring you down. Rayleigh ushered them both out and closed the door behind him.
"When were you thinking of telling me?" he asked, still distant.
"To be honest, I still don't know." a light laugh escaped your lips. "They both found out by accident, hearing me talk to Crocus."
"I still can't believe those little idiots found out before me." his expression softened as he approached you.
"Are you mad at me?" His hands circled your waist, pulling you to the middle of the bed.
He gently created space for himself between your legs, taking care to place your bandaged ankle to the side. The fierce kisses this time were replaced by some caresses along your lap, some quick kisses on your lips.
"Furious?" His smile floated to your forehead, turning into a small kiss. "I just found out that the woman I love most is about to bear me a child. How can I be furious with such good news?"
His mouth once again met yours and despite the softness in which your tongues tangled, the gentle touch of his hand sliding down your side - curious fingers floating over the fabric on your belly - before your dress found a different path than your body, a small external noise caught the attention of both of you.
"Sure." Rayleigh pulled away just enough, allowing you to still feel his breath against yours. "You know it's Roger who's waiting, don't you?"
"Yeah." you laughed, seeing him groan as he let go of you.
"And that he's about to come out screaming with joy" he asked again and you nodded, trying to adjust yourself in bed and hide any evidence of what was about to happen.
Rayleigh barely opened the wooden door and Roger followed by other companions entered, a smile from ear to ear.
"A child!" He pulled you from the bed, hugging you tightly. "Another crewmate for us! This is incredible, get ready today we're going to drink, we're going to celebrate."
"Oi! She can't drink." Rayleigh pointed out and saw Roger let go of you a little and then hug you tightly again.
"Then let's eat, eat a lot. I'm going to order an incredible feast!"
If before your concern was to escape the needy and attentive claws of Buggy and Shanks, now the two boys seemed to have found company. Your other companions - being practically led by Rayleigh made you feel adorable all the time. Even with your hormones screaming at the top of your skin, even with all the strange desires and the constant need to be attached to your husband, everyone seemed to be ready and happy to see you pregnant. Rayleigh felt proud and a little overprotective of you, no wonder, since you had already returned to the boat covered in blood that didn't belong to you just because someone had tried to rob you or when you almost convinced Roger to loot a village because you wanted cakes from a bakery that was closed when you docked. You still preferred to stick to your herbs, but that didn't mean you were harmless.
Little Arthur came into the world calmly and quickly, as if everything was meticulously planned for him to arrive on that peaceful afternoon. Even though you were still uncomfortable and tired after giving birth, you couldn't contain your laughter when you saw the two youngest members of the crew fighting over who would pick up the little one first. Knowing the affection and care attached to you, you proudly allowed the two of you to carry the title of little Arth's uncles - provoking yet another argument over who was the favorite.
The bonds between you and Rayleigh became even tighter after the birth of Arth and, shortly after, little Dalia. A few years after the gang broke up and Roger was executed and on that day, you and your husband stepped back from the role of parents and allowed yourselves to cry on each other's shoulders. The tears of pain at the loss of Roger soon turned to missing your eldest son, a fruit doesn't fall far from the tree and of course, Arth never let you two tell him everything you knew, he would find a crew so that together they could find the One Piece.
The door to your house opened and you saw a familiar face enter. A mother knows very well what each child's traits could bring and when you saw an almost identical copy of Rayleigh rush through the door, you knew it was your boy back. He had finally found a crew - one that carried a straw hat familiar to the one you knew.
"What?" the voice of his companions shouted in unison as Rayleigh properly introduced the two of you.
"You mean you know everything?" Usopp turned to Arth, who just shook his head. "Oh, that's a lot of information at once."
"We never told him anything." you explained, holding your third child in your arms, a girl who had just turned four years old.
"You said your parents were pirates, but you never specified which ones." Luffy pointed out, his mouth full of food.
"My parents already had their time, now they have other priorities." Arth took little Lure from you, the girl's laugh echoed throughout the room. "Just like this little one here."
"You only have these two children?" Nami asked, interested in the difference between you and Rayleigh to the white-haired child.
"In fact, only Dalia and Arth were born to me. Ray saved our little Lure from being sold to those damn nobles. Unfortunately, we didn't have time to save her family, but we took it upon ourselves to take care of her."
"And Dalia is also a pirate?"
"Not for now, but she's on an island with some of our friends, training." you simply informed, seeing that Arth had understood the message.
That same day, you saw your son disappear before your eyes, into the hands of the tyrant Kuma. Luffy looked desolate and you followed suit, both screams echoing through the damp Sabaody forest. Only when Rayleigh managed to drag you back home did you understand that your boy would be far away, safer and according to Kuma himself, with someone you both would trust with your eyes closed.
Almost two years have passed since Rayleigh took on a mission and left you alone on the island, taking care of what was left behind.
"Father?" Lure's voice caught your attention. At the door, Rayleigh crouched down, waiting for the white-haired girl to jump towards him.
"My sweetie you are so huge!" he let the girl hang onto him, filling the top of her head with kisses. "If I took a little longer, you'd be bigger than me."
"I missed you so much." she clung to Rayleigh, who was walking towards you. "Mommy too."
"I bet she felt it too." With one of his free hands, he circled your waist, lightly kissing your lips. "I hope two of my favorite girls are okay."
"Dad, did you know that Uncle Duval asked Mom to stay with him?" The girl laughed at the little gossip told, earning a reprimanding look from you, even if it was a joke.
"Uncle Duval, hm? I'll have a little talk with him." Rayleigh placed her on the floor, yet the girl remained there beside you, paying attention to everything.
"Just a friend of the Straw Hats, we took care of Sunny while you were gone. I even tried to start the plating, but I'd rather focus on my teas." You explained, allowing yourself to hug him completely. "How are things over there?"
"By things, do you talk about our Dalia?"
"Perhaps." the passive tone in your voice became even calmer when your face was buried in his chest. "I miss my little girl."
"She promised to come soon and she's doing great, she's been one of Kikyo's right-hand men. She's so strong, you'll be proud." he felt you nod against his skin, the distance of two years seemed too far for a quick hug to satisfy. "Want to know about Arth?"
"Have you heard from him?"
"Is little brother Arth coming?" Lure clung to Rayleigh's leg, watching her father. Even without the blood connection, the black king found it comical to say the least how similar you two had become.
"Not yet, my dear. And I haven't heard from him exactly, but rather where he is." Rayleigh began to explain, meeting your curious eyes. "I only received a small note."
He took it out and handed you the small crumpled paper. The tranquility that had been missing for two years invaded you as you read each word.
I hope this reaches you and your wife, Rayleigh-san. Knowing her, I believe she is distraught over Arth's disappearance. He has been training with me and I promise that I will keep that old promise to keep him safe. No clumsy clowns this time.
Shanks.
Shanks
warnings: F!Reader and Shanks don't have a fixed relationship at the beginning of the story, F!Reader has a restaurant. Maybe wrong use of haki, brief spicier section and brief mentions of childbirth. Shanks is an adorable girl dad here. Emony, in some language that I don't remember, is a name related to treasure.
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"When are you going to go to sea with me?"
That question had already been repeated countless times every day that Shanks decided to stop at your restaurant. He always made up a little excuse that his crew was hungry and that no other place in that city would be able to fulfill his orders. He repeated every time you served dishes wearing the apron he said made you look amazing, every time he convinced you to stop working for a bit and share a dish with him, every time he was on top of you. you on the bed, as you asked for more and more.
However, every time the answer was the same.
"Give me a good reason red-haired, one other than me ending up in your bed, and I will."
You had already lost track of the times he did this, that he asked and you refused, that you shared hours together and the next morning he left you to return a few months later. This time however, it was difficult to lose track of time, as with each passing day, you discovered a change in your body. It started with irritability, then the aching body, nausea and finally, the positive test on your hand and your shocked family right behind you.
The whole city already knew that you were the redhead's favorite person and at that point, no one dared to mess with you or insinuate anything. Knowing how quickly rumors could spread, you chose to keep it a secret until it became impossible. The secret only lasted four months before his jolly roger appears on the horizon. Already knowing the routine he used to have on the island, you prepared yourself to soon find him entering the door.
"Finally, my favorite cook." his voice hit you before you even saw him. "Long time no see you."
"Yeah, it's been a while." out of habit, you allowed his hand to hug your waist, but you tried not to tighten yourself too much in his embrace.
"Everything is fine?" he asked, noticing your more distant behavior.
"Yeah, it's just been a busy day. What can I get you guys?"
"What's good on the menu today?" Lucky Roux asked, his typical piece of meat at hand had already reached its end.
"A fish stew, we also have some pies. Did you bring any new recipes for me?" You reached out to him.
Since the first time you met the red-haired pirates, you and him had gotten along well and the little deal was that he would always bring new recipes and in return, he was the only one who didn't pay at your family's restaurant.
"Spicy noodles and oysters with honey." he stretched out the two papers in his hand. "Two recipes, two dishes."
"Okay, you win. Anyone else want some stew?" the men piled in, affirming yes. Before you could leave, you felt Shanks' hand grab yours.
"Wait a second." a chill passed through your body as his eyes analyzed you. "You look different, I don't know. It's like you're even more beautiful."
"Don't give me those cheap lines, redhead." you warned in your playful tone. "A stew for you too?"
"The day I deny this could rip my other arm off."
Like the other times they appeared there, Shanks and the others stayed almost the entire day. Much of the food at that point had already been replaced by drinks, which forced you to practically dodge the glasses that were offered to you.
The restaurant was already empty, even your brothers who used to help you had already left, leaving you alone with the leftover dishes and tables to organize for the next day.
"It doesn't seem very gentlemanly to me to leave a lady alone." Again, just like that afternoon, you saw Shanks enter the door, ignoring the "closed" sign.
"You don't need to worry about me, I'll sort it out in a few minutes." You gave your best smile, seeing that he wasn't convinced.
"Then I can help you solve something else."
Not giving you much room to deny it or to at least try to address the issue that was hovering between the two of you, Shanks revoked his right over your mouth. Amidst the scattered tables and trying to turn off the light in the room so as not to attract so much attention, you went unnoticed by his hands taking off your apron and immediately undoing the buttons on your t-shirt. When the piece became a small puddle of fabric on the floor next to your apron and Shanks slid his hand down your torso, you realized that he had indeed noticed.
"What is that?" his voice was low, even though there were just the two of you there.
"I think you're smarter than that, redhead." you tried to alleviate the situation, seeing that it had been in vain.
"It's mine?" His eyes met yours, his serious expression made chills run up your body. Shanks was adorable, one of the kindest people you'd ever served at your restaurant, but he was still a pirate. "Hey, look at me, is it mine?"
"What do you think?" you responded immediately, seeing him take a few steps back. "I found out a few weeks after you left here last time, so far it's been easy to hide with dresses and aprons, but it looks like it won't last long."
"So it's mine?" he insisted, making you huff in frustration.
"The last time you came here, I remember you making me scream a few times that I was yours. I am a woman of my word, there is no one else who is the father of this baby but you."
His expression soon contorted from something serious to a slight smile that turned into a loud laugh. His hand found your face, stroking it with some delicacy.
"You told me you needed a good reason to leave with me." he started, seeing you already look disbelieved. "And no, I don't want you just in my bed. I want you by my side, forever. I want you to leave with me so I can make you my wife. To make you the mother of all my children." his hand reached down and caressed the bump on your belly. "This explains so much."
"So much, tomato head?" You let your hand rest on top of his, enjoying the affection.
"Your bad mood when you saw my face or you refusing to drink with me." He approached, pressing his face to yours. "You look even more beautiful than the last time I saw you."
"Shanks…"
"Please say yes."
He used that entire night to convince you to go on board with him and the next morning to help you pack your bags and head to his ship. When the other companions saw your face, they were in disbelief for a while until the true reason for your presence was explained, to everyone's delight.
For a moment, it was too much information for your head, learning a little about the life of a pirate, understanding what Shanks was like as a captain and the changes in your body seemed too much for you. It wasn't surprising that you had practically hijacked the ship's kitchen all to yourself and it was very common to find you in the early hours of the morning, up to something.
"What's the recipe for today, mummy?" Shanks appeared, his face still crumpled indicating that he had just woken up from a good sleep.
"A cake, that's all." you just responded, feeling him press himself behind you and slide his hand over your big eight-month-old belly.
"And what's the name of the cake?" He leaned over your shoulder, still caressing you. "Is it "I'm worried about my baby's future." or "The baby woke me up by kicking me in the ribs"?
"How do you know that?" you laughed, taking some of the still raw dough for him to taste.
"Delicious." he muttered before he could follow up on any thoughts. "Daddy's Haki. I always know what's going on with my baby."
"Oh, of course." you laughed and immediately felt the same pain that had gotten you out of bed a few hours ago and had been recurring in the last few moments. You knew what it was, you just wanted to enjoy the time you still had with your baby inside.
"Honey?" Shanks asked as he saw you lean your body against his and groan in pain. "My love, what is it?"
"Didn't daddy's haki help you this time?" you tried to laugh but the pain hit you again. Before you could continue your sequence of laments, you felt your dress and as a result of the proximity, Shanks got wet.
"No, it didn't help, it's happening now, isn't it? Hongo!" he started screaming, trying to pick you up.
"Shanks, what if…" your eyes moistened with anxiety and accumulated tears. "What if I'm a terrible mother? What if nothing works? What if I can't bring our baby into the world?"
"There's no what if." he pointed out, gently pulling your chin. "Look at me, we're going to bring our first child into the world and everything will be fine. Come on, it's time to meet our baby."
Emony was born after long hours of labor. The small tuft of red hair was identical to Shanks's and her cry was celebrated by the entire ship who had woken up with your screams of pain and with Shanks running back and forth behind Hongo.
The girl was a little copy of her father, from her red hair to her attitude, which made you constantly laugh - after all, at the age of five she had already declared that she was going after One Piece alone when you two gave her a little scolding for her coming out of hiding during a fight you were involved in. You should also anticipate that the girl's strength would be derived from her father and not hers. A break on an island meant having the two of you spotted by enemy pirates while you were taking a walk with little Emony. After trying to escape and fight, you both ended up surrendering, you were on your knees, a gun against your head and little Emony was lifted by the collar of her dress.
"My daddy is going to finish you off, your shit" she declared, trying to kick the man, completely in vain.
"Will he really do that?" the man teased her, seeing the girl become even more nervous. "I'll be waiting for."
"You know this is his territory, what do you want on this island?" you asked and felt the gun being pressed even more against your head.
"Take it away from my mommy!!" Emony screamed and you felt something different in the air.
The man who was pointing the gun at you fell, fainted, as did the other men who accompanied the pirate. Their captain let out a loud laugh, pressing his hand even tighter against Emony's dress.
"Haki? At such a young age?"
"Mommy!" the girl jolted towards you, seeing you get up and walk towards her.
"I suggest you take your rotten hands off my daughter." Shanks' voice came from behind the man.
By dodging a little, you can see the crew approaching. Benn was already pointing a gun, almost glued to the head of the tyrant who had his hands on your little Emony.
"This here?" he shook the girl dismissively, turning to face Shanks. "You know, lately the navy has been investing a lot of money in Yonko's children." the man threatened, a stupid smile adorning his lips. "What's your offer for the brat?"
"Lucky, Yassop?" Shanks just signed. "You guys take my girls inside."
Without waiting for the man to respond, the redhead punched him in the face and before Emony could reach the ground, Lucky caught her. The two of you were taken inside a small store, where some vendors offered water and a place to calm down.
"Where are my girls?" Shanks' voice reached the two of you, but your daughter ran to him, hugging her father's legs, who picked her up. "Are you hurt, my little one?"
"No daddy." she smiled, victoriously. "You see, I'm ready to be a pirate." the joy in her voice brought some peace of mind to both of you.
"I thought you were already a pirate." Benn, who accompanied Shanks, commented and got the girl's response by sticking her tongue out at him.
"I'm going to be the greatest pirate! Just like dad." she replied, shaking herself off Shanks' lap. "Come on Uncle Benn, I bet I beat you."
"Bet? Let's see." The first mate let the girl hit him a few times, laughing at her effort.
"And you, love, were you hurt?" Shanks stood next to you, holding your shaking hand.
"I just got scared. Shanks, she…"
"I felt it. That's how I knew she was in danger." he replied before the question even left your thoughts. "She's barely trained and can already do this? She's really going to be a great pirate."
"Babe…" your warning tone made it clear that this was not the time for him to encourage such ideas.
"Imagine, she's a captain? Our daughter has a big future. In fact, we know who she takes after." the man boasted, earning a shove in response. "I think she needs companions."
"She can arrange it over time."
"Or we can help." the mischievous tone was already almost inert to the way he spoke to you. "Just a few more babies, a first mate, a cook." He started to list, seeing you deny it. "But you look so beautiful pregnant."
"Forget it Shanks."
"Daddy, mummy!" Emony's voice drew you both in. You watched the girl pose as victorious, on top of a Benn Beckman, Lucky, Yasopp and Limejuice piled on the floor, pretending to be defeated. "I won!"
"Now I challenge you, my little fire hair." Shanks joined in the game, going over to the girl.
Maybe some brothers for Emony would be nice - and maybe Shanks would have given you a good reason to accompany him every time you saw him love your little daughter.
Law
Part 2 here
warnings: angst, more angst, arguments with a fluff and happy ending. I mean, do I really need to inform you that our boy is going to freak out about the possibility of amber lead in his baby? Perhaps not very common uses of his DF, Law freaks out for a while, but then becomes the best dad in the world (we saw so little of Law with Lammy, but I bet he was an amazing brother and that he would be such a great girl's dad). And of course, Rosi comes from Rosinante. This text here is huge, sorry.
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Being subordinate and companion to a captain who happened to be a doctor was one of the most practical things in your life. Did you catch the flu? He would solve it. Were you injured in battle? Just call the captain.
This meant not having any problems, especially after you decided to start dating. Law became even more attentive to every detail of your health, which made you realize that you didn't have much time to deal with the situation in your hands - more precisely, the situation in your womb.
The tests remained hidden in Ikkaku's drawer, with her being his only confidant at that moment. You wanted to know how many months it was, to be able to share such news, but you knew that as soon as Law found out, he would freak out and that's why you were avoiding him.
Avoiding, in the past verb, after all, he had already noticed something wrong between the two of you. Two knocks on your bedroom door startled you and your roommate.
"Hey." he looked dejected when the door opened, his attention automatically turned to Ikkaku. "Mind leaving us alone for a few minutes?"
"Of course captain." a pious look came from her towards you, before the woman disappeared from your field of vision.
Law, not knowing what to say, sat next to you. As you tried to grab his hand, you felt him move away. Damn it.
"How long have you known?" his cold tone dictated that he was probably not happy at all with the news.
"How do you know?" you answered his question with another, trying to buy time before the approaching storm.
"Today marks two months since you haven't asked me for help with any colic or complained about being sinking in a red river." he laughed, even though he didn't look happy. "By my reckoning, it's also been two months since that day in the kitchen."
Of course, the day in the kitchen. You and Law were always careful, even if you already used your contraceptive method, you preferred to use other types of protection. Except when you arrived at Polar Tang drunk and alone, which resulted in a unprotected sex session on the shared kitchen table.
"Quite a recipe we made." You tried to make fun of him.
"What do we do?" For the first time at that moment, you saw Law's eyes actually find you, worried and afraid.
"What do we do?" you repeated. "I'm pregnant Law, I don't know if there's much to do other than wait for the baby to be born."
"You know what worries me." his harsh response cut through any kind of excitement you held back. "You know very well what will happen to this child."
"What can happen." you corrected him.
"Would you rather risk waiting the nine months, giving birth and seeing your child die some time later? Sounds like a great idea to me." Cynicism echoed in his words just as your two voices were already much louder, taking your hatred to levels you didn't yet know.
"Would you rather I have an abortion and then spend the rest of my life wondering what if my baby had been born healthy?" his silence was the answer you needed at that moment. "You know what? Leave me on the next island, I'd rather take a risk and have my baby happy than have to abort it or even worse, my baby has to live with a parent who hates its existence."
"You don't understand what this could entail." He stood up too, trying to put something that looked like sense into your head. "You stay here until this is resolved."
"This has already been resolved and you don't need to have any involvement in my baby's life." you were sure the entire submarine was already listening to that argument between the two of you. "Get out of here, Law."
"But…"
"Get out of here!" you screamed even louder, seeing the man give up and leave. It only took a few seconds for Ikkaku to appear and allow you to cry for hours on her shoulder.
Anyone looking from the outside could see that you two were in pain. Law had become a shadow of the captain he was, only having small appearances to issue orders or to follow you - even without saying many words - every time you approached an island, fearing that you would leave the crew. Even though the two of you didn't talk anymore, you knew that his disappearance was related to studying everything he could about the disease that ravaged his country and was also present in him.
In the two months that had passed, Law had stopped being your boyfriend and practically become your doctor. Without exchanging many words, you only met when he decided to do some examination on you. To break the mood, you always took one of your friends along. The little information you had about Law came from Bepo, Shachi or Penguin, the only ones who were still able to invade his room and talk to him. Like that afternoon, when they insisted that you convince him to leave the room and have dinner with all his companions.
"Law?" two knocks on the door accompanied your voice. His tired look hit you immediately.
"How can I help you?"
"I wanted you to come have dinner with us." you tried to appeal to what you want. Many times, before pregnancy, that had worked.
"I am a little busy."
"I can bring something here." You suggested, approaching him. On the table, you saw accumulated papers, the vast majority of which titles were not related to Amber Lead.
"No need to worry, I'm fine." he simply replied, seeing that you were reading the papers on his desk. "I found some new studies."
"Law, I told you that you don't need to worry about that right now, we don't know yet…"
"When would you rather I worry?" the cynicism was once again there in his voice and he knew how much you hated it. "When you die on the table because for some reason this shit got to you? Or when I watch our baby die?"
"Now is he our baby?" you used the same resource as him. "From what I remember, I had made it very clear that I didn't want you to be involved in this."
"But it's my obligation."
"Your obligation as a father? I think you lost that right when you made it very clear that I had to take my baby away." you started to walk away from his desk. "Or your obligation as captain? As a boyfriend that isn't, I don't know what it's like to have a boyfriend for a good few months."
"I was busy, trying to find a cure for you two."
"We're both not sick." you sounded offended by what he had proposed. "But keep it up, sink into your books, don't worry when I disappear from this fucking submarine."
You left slamming the door, stressed. The looks that reached you seemed full of pity and concern. You only managed to get as far as the kitchen before a pang hit your head and stomach. Being supported by your colleagues, the only request you made was that no one tell Law about it. You wouldn't give him reason in his incessant search for something he didn't yet know.
Alleviating your worries, the diagnosis arrived quickly: just a spike in high blood pressure. A few hours of rest and an IV should do the trick. When you saw Bepo murmur an apology, you knew exactly what he was going to do and so did your friends, as little by little they left you alone. You remained turned away, even though you heard the door open. Something in the air had changed, it was as if you immediately felt more tense and prepared for another argument.
"Babe, can we talk?" Law's voice sounded much lower than normal, definitely attracting your attention. His affectionate way of calling you was an easy way to make you fall for his words. You turned around, facing him and started to adjust yourself to sit on the stretcher. "No, please, stay still there."
"I'm just going to sit down." You did so, your movement being followed to the millimeter by his eyes. "Just to be clear, I don't want to fight."
"I didn't come here for that reason." he approached, hesitating with every step he took. "Actually, I know you didn't want me to come here for any reason."
"I just don't want to have to hear from my doctor that I'd better have given up on the idea." you turned around, allowing your legs to dangle. "I understand your concerns Law and I would be lying if I said I haven't been terrified of the idea since I saw the first positive test."
"I know." He finally stopped a short distance away, but he still didn't touch you. "I… I-I, damn, why is it so hard?"
"Just let the words come, don't think about them." you suggested, figuring it was just pride keeping you from apologizing for all the previous argument.
"I-I feel like shit." a sigh came out along with the words. "You're right, as a boyfriend I've been terrible, as a doctor then, just look at the fact that you're in a hospital bed and the last person to be informed is me." his fists clenched and then loosened, his tattooed hands rubbed against his face, perhaps in an attempt to get the words out of him.
"Law?" your heart broke when you heard a sniffle come from him, it was the last gesture you expected after everything, it was difficult to connect the information like this.
"I can't lose you and I know it doesn't seem like it, I know I've been a terrible person, but I love this child. I can't lose this too." For the first time after so long together, you saw tears run down your loved one's face. His hands stuck to his hat, pulling in a failed attempt to hide his face. "I can't stop regretting saying that to you, what if our baby hates me for it? What if our baby knows that for a moment, even a small moment, I didn't want him or her to exist."
"My love?" You extended your hand, being accepted by him. Law fit between your legs and buried his face in your neck, even with the muffled sound, you only heard his murmurs and sobs.
"I'm sorry, please. For yelling and being an idiot." he asked, still not letting go of you. "I just can't deal with the thought of losing either of you."
"My dear, look at me." his irises remained almost hidden by the tears that accumulated at his waterline. Your hands dried his face and you didn't know how you weren't crying together. "We still don't know if our child will have amber lead disease, we don't know the scope of your fruit in the cure."
"What should we do in the meantime?"
"As I told you, wait. Make the best of this little time we have until the baby is born." you suggested while your hands traced caresses on his face. "And I just want, I need, my boyfriend back. I don't know how far I can go without you by my side."
"I promise to get better, I promise to take care of you." he replied, taking a deep breath and composing himself. With his hands rubbing his face, Law looked much more centered. "What happened today? When Bepo called me, he just told me it was a blood pressure problem and that you were resting."
"I said I want my boyfriend." you insisted with a smile on your face and saw a small ghost of what would be a smile on Law too.
Law first checked the serum that was being applied to you and then took off the hat he was wearing, placing it on your hair. With his face millimeters away from yours, he placed a quick kiss on your lips, followed by one more and another, until finally you gave way to him. The skin of his face was still damp against your face and your fingers caressed his scalp, the gesture he loved so much and god, how he had missed it. When Law pulled away, you almost pulled him back. Two months were too long apart - even under the same roof.
"I missed you so much." You confessed, not wanting to let go of his hand.
"I missed you too my love, I'm sorry for being such an idiot for so long." He sank against your skin again, this time stealing a few kisses along the way. "What do you think we make up for lost time?"
"That sounds interesting to me."
"No, no sex." he cut you off as soon as he saw you smile mischievously. "Room."
You were back in his room, now lying on the soft bed with gray sheets. Along with the two of you, only the serum and support tied to your skin had come. Law adjusted himself, sitting with his back against the wall and adjusting your body to be against his skin. You saw from the corner of your eye his hand go towards you and retreat, ignoring any complaint he would make, you pulled it back and placed it flat against your belly.
"I don't think you can feel it yet, but I've already started to feel some small movements. In fact, I thought I had stomach gas, until Ikkaku and I found a book explaining that it was the baby." You explained and looking over your shoulder, you could see bright gray eyes staring at you. "Right now, from what I feel, the baby is here." you slid his hand away, stopping next to your side.
"Can I tell you something?" he asked, using his other arm to hug you even tighter. You nodded and saw him smile at the likely thought that crossed his mind before the words came out. "The other day, I accidentally spied on you in your room. I think you had just gotten out of the shower and were in front of the mirror."
"Oh no Law, I don't believe it." you laughed, already knowing what day it was.
"I think you spent about fifteen minutes posing in front of the mirror, caressing our child in your womb. God, you looked so beautiful, so radiant." he allowed himself to almost melt against the wall behind him. "I'm sorry I wasted so much time, so much stuff."
"Can I tell you something too? I actually need to update you on a few things." you asked and felt his face move against your skin, nodding. "Did you know that our baby is already just like you? I can't even see a piece of bread before I'm ready to spill my stomach."
That night, the two of you spent a lot of time there. You telling him about the little news that Law had missed in the time you didn't talk and him explaining little curiosities to you, things that seemed incredible to him because they were happening in the body of the woman he loved and he didn't have the courage to tell you before.
In the fifth month - now with a new version of Law, one much more adept at the idea of ​​being a father and much more attached to you. You were dragged by him to a small room, finding Ikkaku, Shachi and Penguin sitting at the table waiting for you.
"What is that?" You sat down in the chair that Law arranged for you, he soon took the place next to you.
"You said you didn't want me as a doctor, so if you want and you have time to think about it, they will be your doctor."
"And you?" your voice was almost cornered, trying to connect the pieces of the situation that was presented. "Aren't you going to be at the birth?"
"I'll be there all the time and any problem, I'll take care of it. But I want to be there for you, for our baby. Instead of scalpels and speculums, I just want to hold your hand." Law chuckled as he saw your little pout that you made start to tremble. "Sound like a good idea to you?"
"T-This is in-amazing." despite Law seeing you get emotional, the loudest crying came from the other side of the table.
"Man, that was beautiful." Shachi was struggling, leaning on Penguin.
"It's so good that you guys are back."
"Idiots." the woman commented, turning to you. "Come on, tell me everything you expect from the birth of our little baby."
After spending the remaining months buried in books next to him, this time looking for good information and not just a cure for an illness, you learned that the stretcher was not a good place to give birth and that sensations were an important part of the process, in other words, goodbye Ope Ope no Mi's anesthesia powers. Law seemed to want to make up for the distance by always staying close to you and always reminding you how special you were to him, like when you looked adorable when the jumpsuit stopped fitting around your belly or when you and Bepo joined in complaining about the heat.
With the help of your own nature, the chosen doctors and Law behind you in that hot tub, your girl arrived into the world quickly and much less painfully than you thought. In the first few hours, little Rosi didn't let go of you and only when the water around the bathtub became cold did Law manage to take his focus off the little baby to take you two to a more cozy place.
In the early days, Law's hands seemed tied to Rosi. When the girl with eyes as gray as her father's wasn't on his lap, Law was following you like a shadow to ensure the health of both of you. Sometimes looking sideways, you could see Law observing every inch of the girl, in a constant search for signs of the cursed disease that had once taken his family from him. He would never allow that to happen to his little girl.
The worry lasted for years and there was never a sign of the disease or any other illness. Before, if everyone at Polar Tang had a strict health care schedule, with the arrival of the girl, attention redoubled.
Rosi was like seeing a mini-version of Law walking around, especially because of the copy of his hat that he had gotten for her. All the love that Law took to give you and her, when it was just a fetus inside you, the doctor seemed to make up for it with the girl, there wasn't something she wanted or asked for that he wasn't ready to do.
Rosi seemed to love accompanying her father in laboratories and studies, this seemed to change when she was once injured in an attack, in fact Rosi lost her balance with the Polar Tang speeding into the sea and ended up getting a cut on her forehead, patched by Ikkaku since Law was busy fending off enemies. That had been enough trauma for little Rosi to not want to know more about medical things.
"Please, my sweetie, it's just a small remedy." you tried to pull the girl out of the closet.
"No, no, no." she grumbled. The little gray eyes full of water. "It's going to hurt a lot."
"It won't hurt, my love." you insisted, seeing her deny it.
"My princess?" Law bent down, reaching her height. "Come on, this is to make you okay."
"Daddy, it's going to hurt a lot, I don't want it." she grumbled even more, knowing that Law was much easier to convince.
"Doesn't your throat hurt too?" he asked and the little girl nodded. "I promise it won't hurt anymore."
"But what about the injection?"
"Daddy also promises it won't hurt at all." he reaffirmed and saw the girl come out of hiding, heading straight into his arms. "Babe, she's a little feverish." he murmured to you, almost despair forming on his face.
"Law, it's just a cold." you warned him, following him as your daughter rested against his shoulder. You knew that when it came to Rosi's health, Law was the most concerned of all.
"Daddy, it's because I was lying on the ice with Bepo." the girl confessed the information, adjusting herself to reach Law's field of vision. "I'm just a little sick, that's it." she created a small space between her fingers.
"That's great, my love." He placed the girl sitting on the stretcher. "It means it'll only take that long for you to get better." he repeated the gesture she had made with her fingers. "Ready?" he saw her deny it, laughing. "Do you want mommy to hold your hand?"
"Yes!" She reached out her little hand to you. "Mommy, what is this?"
"It's dad's way of taking care of us." You tried to sum it up the best way. Maybe she was too young to understand how akuma no mis works.
"Ready? First take a deep breath…" Law imitated, holding the air for a while and making her laugh when she saw him puffed up. "And now…" he applied the injection to her arm. He knew it hadn't hurt at all, but the girl automatically started to pout. "My little princess, what happened? Did it hurt?"
"No." she said, her voice breaking. You both had to laugh when you saw her asking you to hold her without even moving the arm that Law had given the injection to.
"My love, what do you think…" Law bent down to look into her eyes as he spoke. "We can go to the kitchen and steal…"
"Bepo!" the girl stretched her arm towards the bear that appeared in the field of vision. "I want to be with Bepo."
"With Bepo?" Law pretended to be frustrated.
"He's warm and I'm cold." you passed the girl to Bepo, who was her favorite company. Law insisted that it was because the mental age was identical, but you always laughed at the accusations while the bear grumbled.
"What do you say we read a little?" Bepo suggested, letting Rosi climb onto his shoulder.
The two of you accompanied him to the living room, giving Bepo information about the girl being feverish. It only took a few words from the bear who started reading one of her favorite stories for Rosi to fall asleep. Law carefully took his daughter from him and started walking alongside you to the girl's room.
"I can't believe she chose to go with him."
"Well, you had just given her an injection, she harbored some resentment." you joked and saw him frown. "Maybe the next one will like us more than a huge, cuddly bear."
"Next, huh?" he spoke in a low tone, not wanting to wake the girl in his arms.
"Exactly. Or have you forgotten about the ten minutes hiding in your living room when Ikkaku was having a girls' night out with Rosi?" You saw his expression light up, a smile that you hadn't seen the first time you had this kind of conversation and that was one of your favorite things in the world.
"How long, is a month half?" he tried to hold back his louder, surprised voice.
"Yes, I took the test last week." you watched him open the door and place little Rosi on the pink bed. Before you could return to the subject, you felt him take you in his arms and lift you up, filling your face with kisses.
"I love you so much, I love you both." he put you down. "To be more exact, the three of you."
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