dinogoofymutated · 6 months ago
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Hi!! I LOVE your Remy hcs! They were so sweet and in character 😊 I'm on my period and ya girl is suffering and I keep thinking that Remy would be the sweetest AND totally amazing in the fried food department 👀 Any hcs? Totally chill if nah
xx
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Gambit/AFAB!reader!- Period HCS YES!!! just yes. absolutlely. I want to taste this man's cooking so bad but I am ridiculously sensitive to spice and would probably die.
I have a similar req for Nightcrawler as well so keep an eye out for that one too ;) Sorry that this is a little short!
TWS: Menstrual cycles. Cramps. Menstrual cravings. Damn I'm hungry rn ngl. Can be read as GN as no pronouns are mentioned.
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If cooking Isn't one of Remy's love languages I'm calling bull!!
I mean, who else would go out of their way to cook beignets for breakfast? I mean, sure, he could have made the dough beforehand but seriously that shit takes time.
I 100% believe he would go out of his way to make you anything you were craving on your period. Fried chicken? Done. Beignets? Obviously. Done! Hell, you want stuffed french toast but every time you try to make it you fail miserably? Don't worryyy! He's got you.
Although, that doesn't mean he does it for free!! He asks for payment via smooches and love. He tends to stray away from period sex until he knows you're comfortable with it, and if you are comfortable with it he's always there to offer his assistance if you need an all natural pain killer ;)
Mother nature fucking sucked. It wasn't enough that you had to deal with blood leaking out of you every month, but debilitating cramps on top of that? Straight bullshit!
You've been cocooned under your blankets all morning, curled up into a fetal position as you delt with the intense cramps. You've already taken the last of the painkillers you kept in your bedside table, and unfortunate for you, they were not working. You know you've certainly missed breakfast by now, but you just hurt too much to get up. You're face down on your pillow when there's a quick knock at your door before it opens.
"Good morning, Chère~" Remy sings. You cant really respond to him other than giving him a tired hum. You hear the door shut behind him before the sound of him placing a plate on your bedside table.
" 'Figured you weren't feeling well when you weren't at the table, so I've brought you the Gambit special." He jokes. You feel the bed shift with his weight as his sits next to you, running his hand up and down your back soothingly.
"Thanks Rem." You mumble. If only you could bring yourself to sit up. You can smell the sweet scent of the beignets he had brought you, and it makes your stomach growl loudly. You wince as another wave of pain hits you coincidentally, and you're absolutely sure your body was planning to kill you.
" S' pretty bad, huh?" Remy asks, a comforting hand brushing the hair out of your face. You nod.
"Alright, c'mere." You don't have a chance to refuse as Remy is sitting you up, making space so he can sit against your headboard. You're blearily blinking your eyes open as he drags you into his lap, propping you up against his chest. You send him a groggy, questioning look, but he only responds with catching you in a chaste kiss.
"What? You didn't think I was gonna let my favorite person suffer alone, did you?" He asks, sending you a smile that you can't help but return. Remy feeds you your breakfast like that, keeping you snug and safe between his arms as he gives you plenty of kisses and rubs your lower stomach through each wave of pain. Those painkiller never did kick in, but at least you had someone sweet to distract you for a while.
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tarjapearce · 1 year ago
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I need to know how ranchero Miguel convinced the parents to let him marry their daughter. Was it a shotgun wedding? 👀
Indeed 👀. Bit of Drama and slight angst under the cut.
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You had woken up nauseous and dizzy, for the third time in a row. Your mother was concerned. Had something made you sick? She was stricter with the kitchen staff to be more careful. But upon the wafting smell of your usual morning soup, an egg drop soup, entered your room, you retched on the bathroom, again.
You paled.
When was the last time your period came? It was hard to keep tabs when you were trying to attend other business and try to not die in the process. Two months and counting. You barely had the chance of seeing Miguel as well, since he had his own good share of work in the barn.
And he was the last and only man you have been with. Your hands went around your tummy and tears were in the verge of spilling. You were pregnant.
God, you were so scared. You knew how your parents thought of him, and for all you knew, they still thought you were pure.
But as things were going sooner or later They'd find out, probably kick him out and you'd be forced to marry a guy that looked like him to make pass the child as his. The thought scared you shitless, so you washed your mouth, bathed, got dressed and went to him.
He was talking with the foreman of another estate, but excused himself upon seeing you.
His smile faltered when you approached, solemn look, and red nose by the constant sniffling.
"Hey, hey. Come here. ¿Qué le pasa a mi chula?" (What's wrong with you, gorgeous?)
You whimpered and buried your face in his chest. He held you tightly.
"You mom got you on another date?" He rolled his eyes and you shook your head.
"Your dad tried to sell Luis again?" Another shake of your head.
"Then what is it? You gotta tell me,princesa."
"I..." You hiccuped, "I think I'm pregnant."
You could feel him tense and he made you look at him. You thought he'd be angry but the shine in his eyes proved you otherwise.
"¿Voy a ser papá?" He questioned with a excited yet strained voice. You just stared at him and he kissed you, deeply (Am I gonna be a dad?)
"¡Me vas a hacer papá!" (You're making me a dad!)
He was happy and you broke down.
"Why are you crying? Aren't you excited?"
"I am but... Dad will kick you out and... and.. -" You hiccuped and he just held you with a smile.
" Ps, que me eche. I've got my own home anyways. And if... things get bad, you'll come with me. Okay?" He squeezed you tightly and grunted happily, "Dios te vas a ver preciosa con esa panza toda grandota y redonda. Te voy a cuidar, vas a ser mi reina. Ya vas a ver."
(He can do that.) (God, you'll look gorgeous with that big and round belly. Imma take care of you, you'll be my queen. You'll see.)
He just kept rambling things you couldn't understand, but seeing him giddy made your aching heart to relax.
"I'll talk to him. I... Le voy a pedir tu mano." (Imma ask him your hand in marriage)
"W-What? are you sure of it? I mean, I don't want you getting hurt. He might look like an old man but... he knows his tricks.
"Your mother is the one that I'm concerned about."
And he was right.
"ABSOLUTELY NO." She had protested, the staff had been hiding behind the doors, listening to the scene unfold.
"How dare you asking for such thing!"
"Mom-"
"No. Who do you think you are?! Of course you won't marry her! She's set for better things!"
Miguel's eyes narrowed and your heart stopped with sudden rage.
"I want him!" You stood up, stomping your hands on the table.
"I'm old enough to decide on my own, Mom. I... I love Miguel." With every word that spilled from your mouth, she held her heart as your dad just pinched his nose bridge. He had been silent the whole talk, just glaring holes at Miguel.
"Good lord... Just... Imagine the scandal, the people... What would they say about you?! About us?!"
"They already talk shit under our nose, mom. Their opinion is irrelevant. None really approaches us if it's not for a favor."
"You... you brat!"
"I'm pregnant."
Miguel stood to calm you down as the fight kept rising. Your dad immediately straightened up and looked at Miguel.
"You." His voice venomous, but calm, "And you." He pointed at you.
"Tomorrow at church. 8 am."
"You can't be serious! You'll wed them?!
"Your yelling won't make her less pregnant. And I rather have them wedded than having an off marriage child. A sin." Your dad mumbled and looked at you, your rage seemed to be consuming you by how they spoke of your future child. Miguel's expression hardened, a low growl emanating from him.
"Once you're married, I want you both out of my property, got it?"
"Fine! I didn't want to spent my life being a fucking trophy wife for some rich man I barely know."
You were wedded, and despite your dad underlying sadness, and he wanting to swallow his words back, pride didn't allow him to speak and ask you to stay. Your mother didn't even look at your way.
Miguel had packed your things and put them on his truck. You left to a new life with him and your future family.
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a-hazbin-reader · 9 months ago
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THIS WAS MY BAD I FUCKED UP ANON I'M SORRY
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: Brief mention of Y/N not having control over her own life
Description: 👆⬆️
It took a lot for Alastor to be nervous about something, like A LOT
He wasn't nervous to start his radio show, he wasn't scared to sing in front of a crowd or dance with a stranger
But meeting your father has his mind in shambles, he's never been so nervous in his entire life
Every negative quality he can think of is coming to the forefront of his mind and making a home there
Not even asking you out made him feel this anxious
Okay so that was a fucking lie
He's heard all about your father from you, knows how close the two of you are-now he knows how you felt meeting his mother
Your father made you the woman you are today, and all of your best qualities were apparently cultivated by your father, according to you anyways
But he plays it cool when you ask him to meet your father, giving you a charming smile and confident response
"It's about time you asked me that, my dear~"
Hugs you from behind and buries his face in your neck so that you don't see the panic in his eyes
Pretends like he's not worried about it whenever you bring it up but as his S/O you pick up on his mannerisms
He's often distracted, getting lost in his own thoughts, doesn't hear what you're saying, messing up food he normally makes with ease
It's different for him, to him meeting your father makes the possibility of losing you feel more real
If your father doesn't approve of him then not only would you be disappointed but he could keep you from seeing Alastor
And nobody would question it, nobody would ask what YOU want, a girl's father knows what best for her
Then you two would have to elope which wouldn't be the worst thing but you deserve more-
"Alastor..? Are you sure you want to do this?"
He immediately relaxes at the sound of your voice, turning to give you a reassuring smile and kissing your forehead
"Of course, my dear~! What sort of a man would I be if I was too scared to face your father?"
Oh, he's scared of making a bad impression
He leans into your touch as you place soft hands over his cheeks, smiling at him in a way that makes him feel childish for being nervous
"Oh darling, you have nothing to worry about...I'll protect you~"
"Very funny..."
"I'm serious! He will love you, you're very hard not to love~"
Your gentle embrace on his arm keeps him grounded throughout the entire walk to see your father
Maybe he nuzzles your head to give you affection, or maybe he does it because your scent relaxes him
Alastor is hilariously stiff when you two enter the restaurant, tensing up as you approach your father
He's handsome for a man his age but the way he carries himself with kindness and pride reminds Alastor of you
The old man's eyes light up and happiness envelopes his features as he takes notice of you, standing to meet you
The love between you and your father is painfully obvious, this here is a man who would die to protect his daughter
Something he and Alastor have in common
Then suddenly, a switch flips in him once you go to hug your father, no longer is he your nervous boyfriend
"Papa, this is the man I've been telling you about, this is Al-"
"Alastor! Pleasure to meet you, sir! Quite a pleasure! Might I just say you've raised an exceptional young woman!"
This is Alastor, the charming radio host who is utterly mesmerizing and able to talk his way out of any situation
The Alastor that originally caught your attention and kept it long enough for you to fall for him
He spends the entire lunch charming your father, laying out all his best qualities in the hopes that he's making a good impression
And he definitely is, or at least he seems to be
"Oh Y/N, you didn't tell me that he would be such a gentleman! Wherever did you find him?"
Oh Papa you don't want to know
"Oh you know...we just bumped into each other-"
"She immediately had my heart in her pocket from the first moment we met! I was wrapped around her little finger and didn't even know it until it was too late!"
Now you're blushing, Alastor's words, along with him pulling you into a loving hug, making you feel flustered
He may have been busy trying to impress your father, but he didn't forget who he was doing it for, making sure to pay attention to you
He couldn't ignore you even if he tried, kissing your cheek whenever you boasted about him or squeezing your hand when your father embarrassed you
Which he did, your father couldn't help but brag about his darling daughter and every good deed she ever did
All of Alastor's earliest worries are gone, now understanding that your father isn't the type of man to rule over his daughter
Rather the kind to build her up and encourage her to be her own person, loving her for her strengths instead of smothering them
Which makes Alastor respect the man even more than he already did
At one point you leave the table to use the restroom, leaving the two men alone with each other
The mood shifts a little bit, your father suddenly serious and doubtful as he looks Alastor over
"Just what are your intentions with my daughter? She's not the kind of woman who you can just toy with until the next one comes along. My Y/N is too good for a playboy."
Oh, so now it's a serious talk, that's fine, Alastor came here for a serious reason anyways
"I'm no boy, and I don't plan on playing with your daughter's heart, I meant what I said earlier. In fact, I wanted to meet you so that I could ask your permission to not only continue seeing her but to marry her."
Apparently, he said the right thing because your father's eyes widened in surprise for a moment before the warmth flooded back into them
The old man relaxed into his seat and simply nodded at Alastor as you came back, the two men coming to an understanding
The atmosphere at the table becomes much more casual after that, your father and Alastor talking and joking like old friends
It warms your heart to see your boys getting along so well, leaning on Alastor happily
He smiles and rubs noses with you for a moment before going back to the conversation, something that leaves you flustered
And apparently, it makes your father blush too, finding the two of you to be a cute couple
The love you both have for each other radiates more than any sort of PDA would
Your father thinks that Alastor wouldn't be the worst son in law to have, he's charming, hardworking, obviously loves you
Why he's nearly perfect but there's something about him that makes your father think he's dangerous
And maybe he is but as long as Alastor keeps his daughter safe and happy then what does he care?
It's your life after all
Later, when you all get up to leave, your father ignores Alastor's offer of a handshake in favor of hugging him
"If you marry her, then you best not ever leave her, not even in death."
"Not only will I never leave her, I'll do everything in my power to make her happy~"
"Good man, welcome to the family.."
You give your father a loving hug, and he whispers his approval to you, making you tear up and kiss his cheek
Alastor is a little concerned when he sees your glassy eyes but you kiss him happily before he can even ask what's wrong
Presses his forehead to yours once you two finally stop kissing, both of you panting softly
Your smile is so breathtaking, he almost doesn't even hear what you're saying because he's so mesmerized
"I told you that he would love you~"
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GAHHHH SORRY THIS TOOK ALL DAY I HOPE YOU LIKE IT
I HAD IT THEN DELETED IT AND HAD TO DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN
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goodnightmemes · 3 months ago
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HOUSE OF THE DRAGON SEASON TWO SENTENCE STARTERS
❛ Duty is sacrifice. It eclipses all things, even blood. All men of honor must pay its price.
❛ War is coming, to the whole of the realm.❜
❛ I am indebted to you. ❜
❛ I'm afraid. ❜
❛ We should've just killed her when we had the chance. ❜
❛ When the king speaks, Your Grace, all hear it. ❜
❛ I find myself wondering...do we pursue the same end? ❜
❛ You must accept that the path to victory now is one of violence. ❜
❛ Did you think I would wither in your absence? ❜
❛ You only blame me because your true enemies are out of reach. ❜
❛ She holds love for our enemy. That makes her a fool. ❜
❛ I promise you, you will have all the vengeance that you seek, but you must keep a grip on your impulses. ❜
❛ Do anything but what I ask, and I'll bleed the whole lot of ya. ❜
❛ The gods punish us. They punish me. ❜
❛ This is not the time for blind accusations. We'll know who did this soon enough. ❜
❛ I will not be seen as weak. ❜
❛ Sometimes, we have to pretend. ❜
❛ I cannot trust you. I've never trusted you, wholly, much though I wished to, willed myself to. But now I have seen that your heart belongs only to you. ❜
❛ You think me some kind of monster. ❜
❛ You're pathetic. ❜
❛ We can afford no further mistakes. ❜
❛ You are mad. Mad! You cannot think that I did this! ❜
❛ You would send me to my death. ❜
❛ I would remind you only that when princes lose their temper, it is often others who suffer. ❜
❛ I see all your great adventures have done nothing for your looks. ❜
❛ For too long, I made it my aim to be of consequence. But now, I see that was the wish of a child. ❜
❛ I wish to spill blood, not ink! ❜
❛ Instead of judgment, you display impetuousness, and diminish us in the eyes of our enemy! ❜
❛ Fuck dignity! I want revenge. ❜
❛ They wish now not for the good of the realm, but for the petty satisfaction of vengeance. ❜
❛ Soon they will not even remember what it was that began the war in the first place. ❜
❛ There is no war so hateful to the gods as a war between kin. ❜
❛ I'm as fearsome as any of them. ❜
❛ You showed me grace when you could have withheld it. I'm not often surprised. ❜
❛ I cannot promise to make you happy. But I ask you: make this sacrifice willingly, for all of us. ❜
❛ If you've not yet surmised, you are welcome here. ❜
❛ Sin begets sin begets sin. ❜
❛ If dragons begin fighting dragons, we invite our own destruction. ❜
❛ Do not coddle me. Grant me at least that dignity. ❜
❛ Sadness is a condition of motherhood. ❜
❛ You have as much claim to grief as anyone. ❜
❛ Tales take on a life of their own, like weeds. Unless they are tended. ❜
❛ Always coming and going, aren't you? And I have to clean up afterwards. ❜
❛ You will die in this place. ❜
❛ I have been, at times, unkind, but never untrue. ❜
❛ You must go before you are discovered. ❜
❛ Your mother must've been very beautiful. ❜
❛ You should've burned them when you had the chance. ❜
❛ Is there no honor left in this world? ❜
❛ This is a better death than a traitor deserves. You should thank me for it. ❜
❛ I will not be made to look a fool in front of my allies and enemies. ❜
❛ I believe it is a sin to deny your appetites. They are what make us fully alive as mortal men. ❜
❛ If I may be so bold, you have not seemed yourself of late. ❜
❛ I've barely had the hours to grieve one tragedy before suffering the next. ❜
❛ I've come to know the face of tortured rest well enough. ❜
❛ Do you think simply wearing the crown imbues you with wisdom? ❜
❛ You have no idea the sacrifices that were made to put you on that throne. ❜
❛ What would you have me do? ❜
❛ Do simply what is needed of you: nothing. ❜
❛ Where have you been, these last days? You vanished without so much as a word.❜
❛ There are those who have mistaken my caution for weakness. Let that be their undoing. ❜
❛ If you die, all is lost. ❜
❛ The horrors I have just loosed cannot be for a crown alone. ❜
❛ Do you take issue with me? ❜
❛ I can sit still no longer. I must act. ❜
❛ I did not think they would be so eager to die. ❜
❛ I need them alive. I came here to raise swords, not corpses. ❜
❛ Will you goad me? When your bread and shelter now depend on my pleasure? ❜
❛ I mislike feeling powerless. ❜
❛ I do not know my part. The path I walk has never been trod. ❜
❛ What you cannot do, let others do for you. ❜
❛ There is more than one way to fight a war. ❜
❛ I do not wish to stand alone. ❜
❛ Has your loyalty faded? Or does it flourish only at night and flee the sunrise like a moth? ❜
❛ What we must do now is... terrible. ❜
❛ This is not war. These are crimes against the innocent, that any upright man would repudiate. ❜
❛ And once again, in the name of power, it's the weak and the women who must endure. ❜
❛ Was it worth the price? ❜
❛ I caution you, boldness is one thing, but overconfidence… ❜
❛ You have the impetuousness of youth, and its arrogance, neither of which is to be desired in a king. ❜
❛ Have the indignities of your childhood not yet sufficiently been avenged? ❜
❛ To claim a dragon, you must also be prepared to die. ❜
❛ You can't possibly still be angry about this. ❜
❛ You weren't going to bid me farewell? ❜
❛ It is your way, is it not? When something does not please you, you run. ❜
❛ There are older things in this world than you or I, or living memory. ❜
❛ You are not the player, but a piece on the board. As am I, for that matter. ❜
❛ It is my fault, I think, that you have forgotten to fear me. ❜
❛ It was worth the risk, no matter the outcome. ❜
❛ The enemy without may be fought with swords. The enemy within is more insidious. ❜
❛ Do you take me for a fool? ❜
❛ Oh, you make an art of provoking me. ❜
❛ Stop wasting your life waiting for something that'll never come. ❜
❛ I'm sure you did your best. ❜
❛ They will underestimate you, and this will be your advantage. ❜
❛ If the gods call me to greater things, who am I to refuse them? ❜
❛ Nothing is clean here. ❜
❛ The order of things has changed. Why not embrace it? ❜
❛ It does seem to me that you've made rather a mess here. ❜
❛ I don't need their love. I need their swords. ❜
❛ Mind your tongue. ❜
❛ I mislike all of this. ❜
❛ It seems you need us more than we need you. ❜
❛ So, what was the fucking point in all this then? ❜
❛ It's best to live, I think. However you do it. ❜
❛ You are not alone. ❜
❛ Will you prepare to face such an enemy? Or will you stay here and make yourself easy? ❜
❛ If you hinder our efforts through sloth or unreadiness, I will see you hanged, and your body fed to the dogs in the street. ❜
❛ You've arrived just in time to see my new army. What do you think of it? ❜
❛ This place will have you barking at the moon. ❜
❛ We must all make our sacrifices. ❜
❛ 'Tis no longer our rule that is threatened, our very lives. ❜
❛ Perhaps all men are corrupt and true honor is a mist that melts in the morning. ❜
❛ The dragons dance, and men are like dust under their feet. ❜
❛ We march now toward our annihilation. ❜
❛ There will be time enough to see which one of us is a coward. ❜
❛ There are omens here for those who seek them. ❜
❛ It's all a story and you are but one part in it. You know your part. ❜
❛ I am meant to serve you, and all of these with me, until death or the end of our story. ❜
❛ Be strong. You know you are just. ❜
❛ History will paint you a villain. ❜
❛ I am at last myself, with no ambition greater than to walk where I please and to breathe the open air. To die unremarked and unnoticed and be free. ❜
❛ You speak as if from a distant dream. ❜
❛ Come with me. ❜
❛ My part is here, whether I will or no. It was decided for me long ago. ❜
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sansaorgana · 8 months ago
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Can you do a buck x reader where she’s a nurse and takes care of everyone at the 100 and they all think she’s just perfect and a mother figure while all the soldiers are away from that mother figure and one day she like snaps when having to deal with screaming soldiers and she goes up to one the higher power guys and like cussing them out for constant sending the men into a death trap and her having to pick up the pieces and buck has to hold her back while she’s just screaming at the other guy and everyone else is like 🧍
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hello, thank you for your request! 🧡 I've just realised that none of my previous Readers in the stories with Buck were nurses lol 😷 most likely because I can't even imagine myself as a nurse and writing about all these things is enough to make me feel sick 🤣 but because of this, it was easy to write this story where the Reader is at her breaking point lol proceed with caution because there are ugly descriptions of blood, needles, death etc.
also this gif asdfghjkl I swear, in the story he has more compassion towards the Reader 🤣🤣🤣
my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗
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You thought you could do it. When the war had started, you hadn’t thought twice as you had signed up to help. Real help. No paperwork or coffee making. You had wanted to become a nurse.
The physical aspect of your job was not that difficult. You knew what to do in most situations and you had learnt how to stop frowning at the physiological body functions. It was the emotional aspect of the job that no one had prepared you for.
Sometimes the boys would come back from the air battles with nothing but mere scratches. They would still come by just to spend time with you and let your gentle, skilled hands to patch them up as they were telling you stories.
Sometimes the same boys would not come back from their next mission and the stories they had told were all that was left of them. You would cherish them in your heart forever.
Sometimes the boys would come back burnt, with half of their faces blown out or their guts bleeding all over the floor. Their screams of pain would haunt you later at night. Those were your boys.
Perhaps that was why you were everyone's favourite nurse. You were getting attached to them so easily, treating everyone as a friend, offering them a loving hug when they needed it, listening to their stories, helping them to write letters to their mothers and girlfriends or children. You were a good spirit of the base and one of the planes was named after you. So far it still hadn’t gone down and everyone treated it as a sign that you were their guardian angel indeed.
You didn’t see yourself as a guardian angel. If you had to stay within the religious imagery examples, you’d rather describe yourself as a mater dolorosa – lady of sorrows watching her son’s suffering and not being able to help him.
Sometimes they would die in your arms. Still, it was better than to die in a burning plane. Better for them. Not for you.
Today was a day of a very difficult mission. Most of the planes hadn’t come back at all. And the ones who had, were full of men screaming in agony and pain. You were barely able to hold it all together when they were reaching their hands out for you as if your touch would heal them. But it wouldn’t. It couldn’t, no matter how much you wanted it.
“(Y/N), you should take a break…” Your friend put her hand on your shoulder. You were exhausted indeed. You were working for three hours straight without sitting down for one second and you were running around from one bed to another. “Go, rest,” she insisted but you shook your head and went back to work.
Only when you noticed that your hands were shaking so much that you weren’t able to inject a needle into a vein properly, you decided to take a break indeed. You didn’t want to cause even more damage by trying too hard.
But before leaving the sickbay you wanted to check on one of the young pilots. He was nineteen years old, it had been his first mission and you remembered how excited he had been about it. Now he was laying on one of the beds, barely breathing as his chest was burnt and lungs damaged.
You were approaching his bed and your heart sank to your chest at the sight of the doctor putting a white sheet over his face.
“Wh-what… What are you doing to Johnson, sir?” You asked.
“I’m sorry, (Y/N),” the doctor shook his head. “He’s just passed away.”
You just stood there with your lips slightly parted. Johnson was just another surname on the list of all these boys you would never forget about. But Johnson was special. He was the youngest you had known. He couldn’t stop talking about his mother and little sister, about his dog and his girlfriend waiting for him back in Alabama.
Your sadness overtook your whole body and then it developed into an anger so big that you felt as if you were about to explode and bring down the whole base.
“Son of a bitch…” You breathed out angrily as you stormed out of the sickbay without even taking your apron off. It was full of blood but you did not care.
You walked down the corridor with murder in your eyes, making everyone step out of the way. And you entered the Colonel’s office without knocking, so loudly and rapidly that all the men inside startled.
“Miss?” Colonel Harding asked as he was sitting behind his desk and showing some sort of a map to a few Majors.
One of them was Major Cleven. He hadn’t been up in the air on that day but he would be tomorrow. And was the one you had befriended the most. But even his presence couldn’t stop your rage at that moment.
“You can’t just keep sending them to die, Colonel!” You clenched your fists and approached the desk as the men watched with big eyes. “Look! Look, Colonel! Look!” You showed him your bloody hands and your apron. “Why is it me with their blood and guts all over me? While you’re just sitting here, planning…” You gave the map a very angry look. You wanted to tear it apart and you were shaking to stop yourself from doing so. “You’re sending them to death, all of them, they’re just boys! Johnson was nineteen years old! Do you even know who he was? Or was he just another number to you?!”
“(Y/N), calm down, let’s take you outside…” Buck approached you carefully but you moved away.
“No! I will not be silenced. I have things to say and I will say them!” You snapped at him and he froze. You laid your eyes back on the surprised Colonel again. “You just sit here and plan how to send them to death more efficiently. You men… Can’t you see how stupid this whole war is? How stupid every war is? And just because some brilliant engineers constructed planes, doesn’t mean they should be used to kill people!”
“Miss…” Colonel furrowed his brow, “Miss I-Don’t-Know-Your-Name, are you done?”
“You son of a bitch!” You banged your bloody fists on his desk and his stupid map got covered with blood. “You don’t even know my name. But I am the one to patch them up and hold their hand when they’re dying after you sent them to death. God damn you, Colonel Harding! You and all the Generals that you serve! God damn Hitler, God damn Churchill and God damn your fucking President Roosevelt!”
“(Y/N), please,” Buck’s strong hands pulled you away. “I’m sorry, Colonel. She’s all shook up,” he tried to explain your behaviour as you started sobbing when the anger had finally left your body. You hid your face in his uniform and allowed him to put his arm around you. “I’ll take her outside.”
“Yeah, you better do it, son,” Colonel nodded at him. Buck started to walk you out slowly and carefully as you heard Colonel’s voice while you were walking out of the door. “Poor girl… She needs a free weekend.”
Buck took you outside and watched you worryingly as you were catching your breath back and trying to calm yourself down, wiping the tears off of your face with the palms of your bloody hands.
“Here, let me,” he took out a handkerchief and wiped your face with it gently. “Gee, (Y/N), what was that?”
“I… I don’t know… I just can’t… I can’t do it anymore, Buck… That boy, Johnson, he was nineteen… Nineteen, for God’s sake,” you sniffed your tears back and looked into his eyes as your lips trembled. “He was telling me stories about his mum and little sister… His dog and his girlfriend… And now… And now he’s gone. Just like that. His lungs were burnt. Every breath was agony…” You tried to explain, still shaking.
“You really need a free weekend,” Buck pointed out and brought you closer to give you another hug.
It felt good to be in his arms. It was comforting. But you were scared to admit to yourself that you indeed liked him more than just a friend. Because if he would go down tomorrow or any other day, it would hurt even more.
“I can’t… I can’t leave my boys…” You took a step back to look at his face again. “And… And I can’t just take a free weekend. It would feel wrong. When you boys are up in the air, so brave and so heroic. All I can do is patch you up later. I can’t give up, no…”
“We all need a break sometimes. Hey,” Buck raised your chin up with his finger, “promise me that you’ll take a free weekend.”
“Aren’t you on a mission this weekend?” You asked.
“Yeah.”
“Then no way, Buck,” you shook your head. “I have to be here to patch you up,” you smiled through the tears.
“There are other nurses ‘round here,” he pointed out with a soft smile.
“I don’t want them to touch you,” you admitted suddenly as your cheeks heated up.
Why the hell had you said that…?
“They don’t know how to patch you up properly, I mean…” You tried to explain yourself quickly. “Only I know how to–”
But he didn’t let you finish. He leaned in very carefully and placed a gentle kiss upon your lips. You were stunned.
“I know what you mean, sweetheart,” he teased after finally breaking the kiss and caressing your cheek with his thumb. “I promise I won’t get a single scratch when you’re not around.”
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MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST
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deliciousangelfestival · 4 months ago
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Nothing Has Changed - 9
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Summary: Returning home for peace, you're faced with your tormentor, Bucky Barnes, who is now involved in your family's business.
Character: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader
Warning: Angst, Tragedy.
Nothing Has Changed - Series Masterlist
Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi
Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 💖💖💖
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“This town looks peaceful to an outsider, a perfect place for a pensioner to spend their free time,” Steve commented, his gaze sweeping over the quiet streets.
“I guess the Bronze Lodge is their only destination,” you replied, noting the town’s well-known resort.
He nodded. “It's a great place and helps the economy. Most locals work there.”
You glanced around, recognizing a few faces from your past. “Hmm. I see some familiar people.”
“So, you've met the homecoming queen,” Steve said, a hint of amusement in his voice.
“My number one hater,” you responded dryly.
“She will hate you even more after seeing how successful you've become,” Steve chuckled.
You nodded, and the ice between you began to melt as the conversation continued. The years apart seemed to fade as you shared updates and memories.
“Don’t you realize you're talking behind her back? Isn’t she your close friend?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
Steve shrugged. “Not anymore. After graduation, all of us went our separate ways. Bucky went abroad to study business, Natasha pursued her modeling career, and others moved to different states.”
He sighed, reflecting on how time had changed their once-close group. As everyone grew older, they followed their own paths. But in the end, almost all of them returned to this town.
“What made me curious is Jake. I thought he would be the one to make it big since he won multiple competitions related to computers,” you said, recalling the prodigious talent he once displayed.
“Ah, Jake. He wanted to be popular so badly back then. Ironically, he got it in the worst way possible,” Steve replied with a hint of regret.
“What happened to him?” You leaned forward, intrigued by the unfolding story.
“Well… Jake got out of control with his IT skills and hacked the department of defense and he made a crypto scam.”
You gasped. “Really?” Would a guy like Jake do something like that?
“The government banned Jake from anything related to coding for a few years,” Steve explained, shaking his head.
“How did you know all of this?” you asked, impressed by his knowledge of the local gossip.
“His mother told her friend, and her friend told her hairdresser, and the hairdresser told everyone at the church,” Steve said with a wry smile.
Gossip travels fast. You almost spilled your hot jasmine tea, laughing at the absurdity. Steve quickly handed you a tissue, and you gratefully accepted it.
“Then… what do you think about Mayor Martin?” you asked, curious about the town's leadership.
Steve's expression turned serious. “I don’t trust him.”
A shiver ran down your spine at his words. Something was wrong if even someone as reserved as Steve didn’t trust the mayor.
⚰️
You went home, Steve's words still lingering in your mind. You needed answers, so you decided to ask your dad about what had happened in the town since you left.
Tom sat in his favorite armchair, engrossed in a thick book. Without looking up, he replied, “There haven't been any significant changes, except for the new resort owned by the Barnes.”
“But,” he continued, his tone growing more somber, “I have noticed an increase in the number of funerals I've conducted for a single travelers.”
'Single travelers?' A cold shiver ran down your spine at his words. "Who paid for the funerals?" you asked, your voice tinged with unease.
“The town mayor, Martin, has been kind enough to pay for the funerals,” Tom added, finally lifting his gaze from the book to look at you.
Your instincts screamed that Martin’s kindness had a hidden agenda. “Don’t you ever wonder why so many tourists die in this town?” you asked, your voice tinged with suspicion.
Tom chuckled, dismissing your concerns with a wave of his hand. “Are you saying there’s a serial killer in this town? That’s impossible. The police have deemed all the deaths accidents.” He closed his book and patted your shoulder gently. “You should go to sleep. You've been working too much.”
As Tom headed to his room, you remained in the living room, deep in thought. Your father, accustomed to dealing with death, seemed numb to its frequency. But not you. The increasing number of deaths didn’t sit well with you, and the mayor’s supposed generosity felt more sinister than charitable.
Should you and your dad leave this town? The question gnawed at you as you pondered your next steps. Once a familiar haven, the town now felt shrouded in mystery and danger.
👠
The next day, you returned to the hotel feeling renewed determination. As you walked into your office, you stopped abruptly. Once cluttered with documents and black binders, the table was completely empty. A wave of panic surged through you. Had someone stolen everything? The scene eerily reminded you of when the FBI raided your office and confiscated all your belongings.
You bolted out of the room and hurried to Bucky's office. As you approached, you heard raised voices from behind the closed door.
“You’re doubting me?” a woman exclaimed.
“At first, but now I have the evidence. Numbers don’t lie,” Bucky responded firmly.
“Hmph. I still can’t believe it. She’s only been here for a few days, and you trust her over your own mother?”
You couldn't take it anymore. You pushed the door open, making both Bucky and the woman flinch. “Are you doubting my skills?” you demanded, crossing your arms and standing confidently.
The woman turned to face you. She was Lydia Barnes, Bucky’s mother. At fifty years old, she exuded elegance and grandeur, her rich lifestyle evident in her designer clothing and impeccable grooming. She looked you up and down, her eyes narrowing.
Lydia remembered you. You used to be a shy girl who never met anyone's gaze. But now, you stood before her with unshakeable confidence. Your eyes, so full of determination, reminded her of someone she detested—your mother.
Lydia’s face hardened. “I see you've returned,” she said, her tone dripping with disdain.
“I have,” you replied, meeting her gaze steadily. “And I found discrepancies in the financial records. Someone has been embezzling money from this resort.”
Lydia's eyes flashed with anger. “How dare you accuse me?”
You maintained your calm demeanor, but your eyes locked onto hers with a sharp intensity. “I didn't accuse you, Mrs. Barnes. But why are you so defensive?” You let the question hang in the air, trying to bait her into revealing more. “It’s impossible for a business owner to steal from their own business, isn’t it?”
Lydia's face went pale for a moment before she recovered, her expression turning icy. She was momentarily stunned, clearly taken aback by your insinuation.
Bucky stepped in, his tone exasperated but calm. “Mom, we’ll discuss this later. Right now, we need to focus on the numbers and figure out what’s really going on.”
You took a step back, observing Lydia carefully. Her fists were clenched tightly at her sides, and her eyes were narrow slits of fury. She was clearly not used to being questioned, especially not in her own domain.
Lydia straightened up, regaining some of her composure. “Very well,” she said coolly. “But don’t think for a moment that I’ll let this go.”
As she turned to leave, you caught a glimpse of vulnerability in her eyes—a fleeting moment of fear that she quickly masked. It was enough to confirm your suspicions that there was more to this story than she was letting on.
Bucky let out a heavy sigh once she was gone, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry about that. She’s...complicated.”
You nodded, taking in the tension that still lingered in the air. Lydia was an odd woman, and you couldn't shake the feeling that she harbored a deep-seated dislike for you. The first time you saw her was at her husband’s funeral—Bucky's dad.
Even then, her eyes had fixed on you like a tiger eyeing its prey. You always wondered what you had done to her.
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threepandas · 2 months ago
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Bad End: Witness
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"Specimen '873 is starting to disappoint me. He was showing such promise. These numbers, however?" My keeper muttered to himself, distaste painting his face as he watched the feed in front of him. "Unacceptable for a battle class. He might as well be spare biomass at this point."
He was supposed to be wearing his glasses, not holding them. They may have been called "reading" glasses? But they were not, technically, just for that. They also had a blue light filter. Helped with headaches and eyestrain. He just hated wearing them because he thought they made him look old.
A God Forbid ANYTHING remind him of the passage of time.
He did NOT take it kindly.
I managed to avoid THAT landmine by virtue of having witnessed his receiving them. An "incident" that resulted in his head slamming against a screen. Protocol demanded he get checked. In the process, they discovered his eye sight was declining. It was a... bad day. I brought him things to break and stayed very, very quiet.
He bounced back fairly quickly, though. Once the arrogant researcher who had arranged for the incident to even OCCUR? Tried to come lord his "weakened old man" status over him. It was one thing to "accidently" let the battle class get unfettered access to weapons before loyalty train. But to be dumb enough to step into his lab, call him weak, and gloat about it?
Dr. Raghnall Periculum was many things.
But "unwilling to bludgeon a man to death with the nearest object" was not one of them.
He was dangerous like that. Murderous. It came and went like shifting storms, all you could really do was learn to read the triggers. Get good at knowing when to back up. When to hold really, REALLY still. After all... this was a lawless, immoral place. No one here could or WOULD stop him.
They were all just as bad.
Gritty Sci-Fi Otome games are... a lot less fun to LIVE. To be honest? They are actually pretty horrifying. Traumatizing, really. Hellish. As in, I am pretty sure this is a futuristic version Of Hell (but that is a personal opinion). I regret EVER playing a single damn one. But... BUT? I CLING to the knowledge I gained from it. So I can not regret it completely. Because through them? Through KNOWING this world?
I KNOW this will end. KNOW we will be free. That these monsters will pay for what they've done. The epilog promises a golden age. A beautiful, peaceful dawn after this long and terrible night, filled with horrors. I just... I just have to survive. Hold on. Keep my head down and pray.
I may be trapped in hell, but I'm not broken.
We will be Free.
I have SEEN IT.
Sometimes the greatest defiance is just refusing to die. Just keeping hope alive. I... I can do that. May not be able to fight my way out. Not smart enough to hack or sabotage these nightmares. But I can stay alive. I... I can do that. Bear witness, that someday I may stand against them in trial. Record. So no one is forgotten.
It doesn't feel like enough. I feel tired and angry. Hateful and small. But for the sake of my sanity? I make myself feel nothing. Compartmentalize. I've... I've become unfortunately quite good at it. Good at a lot of terrible things. Like placating. Making myself small. Being invisible. A retail smile. Being one with the furniture.
See, just like the poor souls on the screens in front of him? I'm a Clone. Of who? I have no idea. None of us do. They use old DNA databases. From when it was first commercially available, I think. Like those ancestry tests. Here it was squirrelled away, kept for later use. Which... was us.
My template has been dead for centuries, I think. Or perhaps? She would have considered herself my mother? I hope she would have, strange as I turned out to be. We are all children of the dead. It'd be nice to think they'd have wanted us.
Dr. Periculum's cup lifts lightly as he take a drink, more focused on his work then anything else. That heft is about midway point. I've discovered if I begin brewing now, it will be done by the time his cup is empty and he wants more. A glance at the closest screen gives me the time. Food too, is a good idea.
He likely won't eat it. But if it's there? The chances are higher. And when he comes out of his focus, it'll be available. Less chance of him getting irritated by hunger.
On a well practiced route through piles of notes and projects I know better then to touch, I quietly make my way to the coffee machine. Begin another round of abomination the caffeine tar. It is, quite honestly, a wonder he hasn't accused me of trying to poison him to a heart attack.
A few granules of salt, a bit of cinnamon, some expensive fatty creamer, aaaand? There. Unholy bitterness gone. "Just" a cup of liquid tar so potent it could make a rhino taste time.
I also grab one of the meat pies and put it on a little paper plate.
Ah... what has my life become? That I am so well practiced in make snacks for a monster? Picking them up, I don't dare answer that. That way lies madness. Don't think about it. It can wash out in therapy. After. Because there WILL be an After. There HAS to be an After.
Careful steps and...? Just as I estimated. He just ran out. I nearly silently tap the paper plate down to the edge of the table then slide it forward, with-in ease of reach, but not too close. Then I swap the cups. Go to step away. Only to freeze. As, out of the corner of my eye, I see one of his hands briefly leave his keyboard to make a nearly dismissive "one moment" gesture.
Stay put. Don't move. I'll address you when I'm done with my, more important, thoughts. I feel the flash of fear, of panic, but let it go. There is nothing I can do. I will be hurt or I won't be hurt. There is no use suffering twice, through speculation and fear, I remind myself. Force my mind empty and pleasant. Retail smile. Happy to serve.
He finishes. Leans back, dissatisfied with some project or other, and finally slips on his glasses. Gestures imperiously for the cup in my hands. I do not question of course, merely hand it to him. He takes it, passes it to his other hand, and sets it aside. Then, casually, leans slightly over and wraps a thickly muscled arm around my waist. Dragging me off my feet and into his lap.
"You know, girl? B-21873 really was, actually quite promising. I was starting to think I'd keep him. Decent speed, good stamina, excellent problem solving. His test scoring was exceeding all expectations. Really thought I might have gotten you a little friend to play with. A gaurd so I could send you out on some chores safely. But no, he just HAD to be a failure." He said, leaning forward to grab his cup.
I was crushed awkwardly close. Could feel every moment. Acutely aware of his woody and sea air cologne, the coffee on his breath as words were spoken far to close, the beating of a heartbeat I could feel against my arm. Hyper aware of him. Why was I in his lap? This felt dangerous. I should not be in his lap.
Between sips, he turned his head and pressed his lips to my temple, not kissing... somehow worse. Just... just breathing me in. Slow, deliberate, and deep. Like savoring a scent, a sensation. The subtle back and forth, as though rubbing his lips against my hair. Enjoying the feeling against sensitive skin. It could almost be a cuddle on any other man. It took everything I had not to shudder.
"Unlike you of course. You pet, could never disappoint me. If these rejects tried even half as hard as my perfect darling girl? The world'd be a better place." He paused his almost nuzzling. To simply rest his head against mine, pulling off his glasses so he could tuck his head closer. His breathe was hot against my ear. His voice gravel and distain as it spoke of others.
"It's disgusting. Like they don't even try. We spend countless resources breeding, feeding, and training them... for what? Failure? I'm starting to think those bastards are deliberately sending me bad specimens."
Every word he said was horrifying. I could not cry. Dare not. But my heart screamed for those poor souls. They were just kids. Trapped in hell. Tortured from birth. Disposed of when they no longer met some arbitrarily impossible anime standard. If I turned my head, even slightly, I KNEW, I would be faced with screens of untold suffering. Feeds of "testing". So called training. Autopsy reports and datapoints.
Lists of who... who had been deemed "not good enough".
Who were scheduled to become "recycled biomass".
But if I looked? I would weep for them. And that? That was dangerous right now. Right NOW? I had to be pleasant company. A child's doll to be dragged around. No thoughts, no differing opinions. Preferably no opinions at ALL. Just warm and huggable. Soft. A beloved pet who serves coffee and brings things when told. Endure. I just... I must simply ENDURE.
The night will end. Dawn will come. Believe in her.
J-Just empty your head... and Believe In Her.
An alert pops up. I can hear it on a screen somewhere behind me. Dr. Periculum turns his head to look, reaching for his snack. Freezes. Then, a sharp bark of laughter. It's violent, like the strike of a lightning bolt, jostling me. The ones that follow just as harsh. He's not a man that laughs often. And it's not a kind sound.
Filled with schadenfreude, his laughter is like the vicious barks of hunting hounds. The shots of a weapon. A short and harsh to the ears sound, over and over. Delight in the suffering of an enemy. The fall of a rival. It strikes through his body like seizures. Making him lean forward to read. Brace against the desk, tighten his grip around me, widen the brace of his legs.
Glancing up, his eyes are alight with manic glee. His grin is vicious.
He looks Feral.
"Well, well, WELL! What do we have HERE?! Is that Jack ANDERSON'S facility I see? Mr. 'Master of the genome' himself? Looks like SOMEONE got AHEAD of themselves! Ha!" Raghnall cackles spinning his chair so I can see the screen. Leaning back to grab his cup and toast with it. "Look what we have here, pet! Some fucking KARMA! I knew that little shit wasn't worth the paper his degree was printed on! See this? THIS is what happens when you can't control your own damn compound!"
"Rest in PIECES, you worthless little SHIT!"
I sat. Frozen. As Dr. Periculum laughed and laughed, his mood viciously pleased. Because... because I recognized that facility. Chapter Two. There was an animation that played. The... the BREAKOUT! Joy filled me. Like the first rays of dawn. That was HER. S-she was OUT! Free! She DID it! Oh god... oh god she was COMING! It had finally BEGUN!
I caught myself. Barely.
My eyes felt a bit wet so I disguised it with a fake yawn. I dare not show empathy. NEVER show empathy. Keep it guarded like diamonds in your chest. If he thought, for even a moment, that I empathized with anyone but him. CARED about anyone but him? They wouldn't last the hour.
And it would be the longest, cruelest, hour in existence, as they died.
You make that sort of mistake exactly ONCE.
"Ah~ todays a GOOD day. And you know what we should do?" He hummed, nearly a coo as he spun us almost lazily around on his chair. In whimsical circles like a bored child. "We should celebrate. Ding dong, the fuckers dead~ HA HA! Not to mention? It's been entirely too long, pet, since I've spoiled you rotten. We should get a cake, hmm? You want a cake? Lil treat? Sweet lil treat for my girl?"
"I could get you that new dress I've been looking at. Bet you'll look like a classy lil princess, won't that be nice? Can even make it match the trackers I'm finishing up! No more uncomfy collars when we go out! Just pretty lil bracelets, ain't that nice?"
I force myself to smile. Nod. Ignore the fear and anger, the humiliation and helplessness. It's not time yet. Bid your time. You will LOSE your chance for True Freedom if you give in to your anger. Your hurt. Patience, THEN strike. Remember! Chapter two! There are FIVE.
It is COMING.
He stopped spinning, planting his feet on the floor. His manic grin softening. No less unhinged, less full of teeth, but perhaps the closest a man like him could come to loving. His eyes obsessive as the roam my face. Cataloging everything.
"You know, pet? You really might be might greatest creation. Best thing I've ever made or done. Anyone wants you? They'd have to pry you from my cold, dead hands. I'd burn EVERYTHING down. Kill just about EVERYONE." His voice was the sort of whispered confession meant for churches, not the heart of this hell he had built. It felt unholy. Dangerous.
Exactly like him.
"Once I figure how to take humanity to it's next stage? Reverse aging? Heck, even stop it. I promise, pet. Gonna take you with me. You're coming along for the ride. Straight to the end. Heat death of the universe. Well become GODS, pet. Live forever and a day. Bet you can't wait, huh?"
"Don't worry. The futures going be BEAUTIFUL. Just you wait."
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toomanyideasandfandoms · 6 months ago
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Can we have creator wanting to die thing you wrote but with Xiao or venti? İ love my anemo boys. Could be a tic, or if you're lasy just write it as what you think would happen i would appriciate both if you could 🫶
Oooo!! There's an idea! Actually these two would be very interesting to write for me.
-
Venti actually in my head is most likely one of the first to find out about the creator. I've already wrote how it happened in my first oneshot for this so you can scroll my profile for it. But! It's how he acts after that really gets my brain screaming. He would be such a depressed mess, absolutely devastated with himself for harming the divine. Seeing their body turn to ash while smiling had definitely messed him up a bit.
If he finds them again then all hell breaks loose, cause he is definitely gonna try and lock them in a safe place. Though that isn't really successful since creator being so mentally broken can and will find a way to experience another death. Though they can say goodbye to falling from high places as a method cause now the winds of Teyvat just refuse to let them end up as a splatter of muscle and blood, it's especially annoying in trying to push them to safety because of Venti's active paranoia over them.
He also would be helping Nahida in spreading the word to the other archons about the situation, though he very much will take the blame for being one of the first to harm them when they first arrived.
-
Xiao? Oh god Xiao has had enough trauma this is so painful dhskdjf. Because while Xiao I can see as more of a casual follower kind of, the fact that Morax would be such a big worshipper is probably the reason why Xiao would be protective of the Primordial Mother's honor.
It's why he would have the highest kill count, both to dispell any opportunity for Morax to get angry and to uphold the creator's honorable visage.
Which is why if I feel like the more he encounters the broken creator, who is constantly seeking for a more entertaining death, the more likely he becomes...almost worried? Like he would mainly think it's just another lunatic that is super obsessed with the creator that they physically changed their image to look like them as a way to feel closer, but as time went on and each one talks about the previous' death. He would definitely become suspicious.
Normally how I think about why no one found out right away from their first time killing the creator is because it's a common thing to not look at the body of an "imposter" or "heretic" as they die, solely because seeing them in such a state while having the Primordial Mother's face would be a disgrace to them. So they typically wait until the body is gone, and by then the golden blood has disappeared.
This is how Xiao would find out, he would directly look at them as they died before him to fully understand. And upon seeing that golden does the reality of the situation hit him harder than any karmic debt pain he's felt. All those countless deaths, all those bodies that piled up from him. It was the same god, the same creator who the entirety of Teyvat loved.
It's definitely going to eat at him, practically devour his mind and almost shatter his mental state. But instead of fully breaking down, he runs to Morax, the adeptus, anyone he can think of to try to rectify the mistakes he and the others of Liyue have made.
When the creator is put into a safe place by the time the entirety of Teyvat knows, he's the first to volunteer as a guard. To make up for not protecting them like he should've from the beginning. Though this isn't gonna be good for either's mental health since the creator would just beg him to kill them, and him begging them to not say such things and to please forgive him.
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lilspacewolfie · 8 months ago
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Papas Caring For Hospitalized Reader
Spawned from pure self-indulgence. I've been through more hospital visits these last four weeks than I have my entire life. I want someone to bundle me up and make my hand better. I hate hospitals and operations *sobs*. Enjoy nonetheless!
Content: 2k words, Papas x gn!reader, SFW, bullet-pointed format, mentions of hospitals, needles (only mentioned), mention of general anaesthetic, angst, hurt/comfort, anxiety, lots of sweetness, you're getting pampered, no beta we die like nihil!)
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This man will do everything in his power to make sure you’re looked after and relaxed. 
Tea for days! He will try different flavours until he finds the one you like.
Dives headfirst into deep research as to which herbs help your injury heal, as well as calm your nerves. He knows his plants well, but he wants to know more. You deserve the best of the best.
Insists on going with you for infirmary visits even when you tell him you’re fine (you’re not really, but you just don't want him to worry.)
He will anyway. 
Chronic worrier, especially given his age. 
He takes his health VERY seriously, yours too! The Ministry has the best medical care around. 
If you need a wound cleaned, stitches taken out, or other medicines, it's the place to get it. 
Primo will be with you as much as he’s able to, even if that means he’s sitting for a long time while you’re being treated. 
When you’re free and discharged—bandaged, bruised and probably feeling sore, he’ll take you back to his room for some TLC. 
Will have a bath or shower with you, (in his jungle of a washroom), depending on what you prefer and smother you with all your favourite scents.  
He’s a deeply caring individual and shows it openly. 
Will speak gently to you, whisper sweetly and ensure you’re not overstimulated more than you have been. 
“Shh, I know. I know amore. It’ll be over soon, just breathe for me.”
He knows how much you hate hospital/doctor visits. 
You can squeeze his hand if you want. 
If you need space for a bit after everything, he’ll gladly give it. 
If not, prepare to receive a lot of kisses, especially on your forehead (a lot of them, like… SO many.)
He will help you bathe if you’re unable to, running a foaming washcloth over your skin carefully. 
Let him wash your hair! It’s one of the things he adores doing for you!
Once you’re washed, warm and feeling more relaxed it’s time for more tea in bed with a snack if you want one!
He insists. Even if you don't feel like eating, try to drink something for him <3
“It will help you feel good and relax, Il mio fiore.” (My flower)
Fluids are important (wink-wonk).
Reminds you to take your meds like clockwork (always with tea and water)
You’re his petalo (petal) and he loves you dearly. 
Will wrap you up in the mountain of blankets and faux furs he has on his lush bed. He’s old, he feels the cold more than others. At least he has you to keep him warm.
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Secondo hates when you’re hurt/hurting in any capacity. 
Even if it's something minor, he’ll worry about it to the point where he loses sleep over it. 
He’s a big, brooding mother hen. 
The Emeritus curse of being a chronic worrier doesn’t stop at Primo.
This man wants you to be okay and it kills him when you’re not. 
Will also go with you to the infirmary and stay with you. 
The staff always find him a little intimidating, but they know he’s just worried sick. He’s kind to everyone, but honestly, he won't speak much unless spoken to. 
“Are you alright, mio tesoro?” Is what he mainly asks, his voice so low it's close to a rumble. 
Tries his best to make you feel relaxed. 
Will make really, god-awful dad jokes that are so bad you do laugh. 
He will quietly hold your hand the entire time, rubbing his bare fingers over our knuckles. 
You rarely see him remove his gloves in public, but he HAS to be touching you. He insists. 
He’s had enough knocks and breaks in his life to know how fragile the human body can be, but also how incredible it is at self-repair. 
That doesn’t mean he views you as a fragile thing that needs to be wrapped in wool, but he loves you so deeply he would if you let him. 
He admires your strength and resolve as you put up with being poked and prodded (by needles or with doctors.) 
Once you’re released from care, good luck getting him to be anywhere less than within touching distance. 
You’re getting a kiss. Lots of them. Mostly chaste and gentle. 
You can tell it's because he worries about hurting you. 
He relaxes a bit more when you kiss him HARD and bite at his bottom lip. 
Will also help you bathe and shower. Again, touching distance. Just let him be near you for his own sanity. 
Though he wouldn’t be upset if you need some space. He’s very understanding if you’re overstimulated. 
Will linger outside the door in case you need anything. 
Let him dry you off and dress you in comfortable clothes. He can see you that way. 
He can see you’re still with him and that you’re safe. 
He’ll touch you slowly, running his large hands over your skin. 
Will spoon you once you’re in bed or let you curl into him. 
He’ll bury his nose in your hair, breathe you in and say a wordless prayer to Lucifer that you recover quickly. 
“Ti amo.” You hear him whisper as he presses a kiss to your forehead and strokes your hair.
Only falls asleep once he’s sure you have, holding you close the entire night. 
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Terzo. Oh, Terzo. 
Emeritus curse of being a chronic worrier? Check. Turn it up to eleven. 
Unlike Secondo, Terzo is open with his worries. 
He’s a fair mix of his brothers, both gentle and occasionally stoic given the shape you’re in. 
If it's something minor, he’ll try to play it off with a bit of humour like he tends to do. He’ll make bad jokes (oh ho, you thought Secondo’s were bad just wait for this.) 
If it’s something you need an operation for, this man will be silently out of his mind. *insert any internally screaming gif here*
He takes pride in his appearance, but you’ll start to notice cracks—dishevelled hair, a button not done up or a smudge of his paint. 
It would worry you more if he didn’t have Omega or one of his brothers to make sure he’s drinking and eating regularly.
Tries to hide his stress. Fails. Rinse and repeat. 
He doesn’t want you to worry about him, you’re the one in pain, about to be put under and Lucifer… What's he going to do if something happens?
He loves you. Adores you. You’re his life.
He knows how much you hate being stuck in hospitals and it pains him to see you stressed. The last thing he wants to do is add to that, so he’ll play it cool. 
When you go in he’s pacing the halls.
Rest assured, the healthcare of the Ministry has you in safe hands. 
It puts Terzo at ease, but don't expect him to leave your side when everything is over. He will sit at your bedside, kiss your knuckles and stroke your hair. 
Let him touch you. Just let him. 
He’s been through so much heartache in his life. 
Will kiss each of your fingers and whisper sweet words to you. 
“You’ll be okay, vita mia. Cuore mio. I’m here. I’m with you.” (My life. My heart.)
Maybe he’ll hum some songs too. 
You’re his everything. 
Once you’re ready and well enough to leave, you’re getting pampered to hell and back. This man worships the ground you walk on. 
Whatever you want it's not too much. A bath? A shower? Just to get into bed and fall asleep? Terzo’s right there with you.
Dinner in his massive, plush bed with your favourite movie.
When you’re ready to sleep he’ll plaster himself to you. He would crawl inside your skin if he could. 
Fitful sleeper. Wakes up a few times just to make sure you’re ok. 
Eventually sleeps soundly once you kiss his worries away. 
Stroke his hair. He’s a sucker for that!
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*Copia is not Nihil’s son in my verses/AUs unless explicitly stated.*
He’s learned bad habits from the Papas it seems. 
Worrier. Yes, it's chronic. Seriously, are we sure this isn’t like the flu?
Paces a lot. 
Good luck getting him to sit still. 
If he's not pacing, he’s as close to you as physics will allow. 
Lots of touching. Will rest his head by your hip if he’s tired from all that pacing. 
Perfect opportunity to run your fingers through his hair.  
He’ll hold your hands and kiss your knuckles. 
All that stress tires him out. 
“Mi dispiace, amore. Non sto aiutando,” he’ll whisper brokenly. (I'm sorry, amore. I'm not helping.)
You two probably end up curled up on the bed of the infirmary together if you have been waiting a while. A nap won't hurt. 
You kiss slowly as you get comfortable, limbs tangled.
The angle is a bit awkward. 
The sleep helps but he’s still going to be stressed when he wakes up. 
Will get you anything you need. A drink or food, perhaps one of the really nice yogurts they do at the visitor's cantine. 
Will ask the nurses and doctors SO many questions. He likes to be informed. Gets stressed if anything is unclear. 
Maybe he should be in this infirmary bed and not you. 
Prepare to be coddled once you’re discharged. 
You’re both taking a long, hot bath or shower. 
He wants to wash you down so he can see you and make sure you’re ok. Lots of tender kisses to your skin. 
Ends up with you in his arms under the hot water just swaying together. 
You’re wearing his clothes. No, not just because he likes how they look on you but because they’re baggy and won't irritate your skin *cough*. Sure Copia. 
He’ll order your favourite food and you can watch a movie in his room together. 
Will mother hen you, constantly ask if you need anything, and make sure your water glass is full. 
He probably will cry. It’s just been so much. 
You can cry together if you want. You both understand. 
Also like clockwork when it comes to medication (if you’re taking any.) 
Curls up in bed with you. You both sleep like the dead after such a long, stressful day. 
Breakfast in bed when you wake up.
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*Copia is not Nihil’s son in my verses/AUs unless explicitly stated.*
Copia might not be of the Emeritus blood, but unholy shit does the curse of being a chronic worrier catch like wildfire. 
He’s Papa now he’s gotta be strong. 
Will put on a brave face. But underneath he’s still the cardinal he was years back. 
He’ll worry and fret and pace. There's no changing some things. 
While he’s outwardly less anxious, this poor man has so much weighing on his shoulders after he took over to front the band. 
Inwardly it's chaos. 
His hair is never quite as smoothed back as it normally is and his paint is a touch worn. 
There are some things you can't change about a man. Not really. 
Prepare to be coddled, again. The mother hen has never left the coop. 
He’s going to pamper you when he gets you back to his room. Of course, you’re staying with him, he’s not letting you go. 
So. Many. Kisses. 
This man loves kissing you. He adores you so. 
A bath in his spacious tub is just what the doctor ordered. You lay against him and relax in the dim with only the light of candles. 
Finally lets himself cry. 
You shush him, kiss him and remind him that you love him and that you’re ok. 
He loves you so much he can't even express it. The thought of losing you kills him. 
He tries to push your hands away when you take a cloth to his paint. You’re the one who's been hurt and poked at all day, he’s supposed to be caring for you!
Eventually relents because you both know you need this. 
More kisses and mutual washing. You love seeing how his skin pinkens across his cheek, arms and back. It brings out the pretty freckles all over his body. 
When you both get into bed, tangled up again, Copia will whisper how much he loves you until he’s too tired to talk anymore. 
You both sleep like the dead.
masterlist ⛧ Ao3
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izzabela · 4 months ago
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Hello🍷, I have an idea for a writing, of a Bi-han x reader; where the reader is about 10-15 years older than Bi-han but does not stop, because the reader looks extremely young, even more than Bi-han,
(I really think Bi-han is about 28-30 years old but that's in your hands 🙏🏻😶‍🌫️🍷)
LN
Eternal Beauty - Bi Han x GN!older!reader (headcanons)
in which Bi Han is pining after an older partner
a/n: milf, gilf, dilfs, WHATEVER, bi han DTF. older reader with a little twist, btw
ship[s]: bi han x older!GN!reader
warnings(s): canon story deviation
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- You are half Edinian, half human, but Bi Han didn't need to know that for his breath to be caught in his throat at your ethereal beauty
- Bi Han knows you're older than him, hell he lowkey loves it, which makes his pining after you even more adorable
- Your Edinian's mother's genes allowed you to gracefully age. Your skin remained taut, but your humanity showed through the smiling lines around your mouth, and the wrinkles that were by your eyes
- It added to your charm, made you look even more beautiful than the other people that wanted to be by the Grandmaster's side
- He definitely got shit for it, being so obviously in love. Even though he would yell at whoever was poking fun at him (usually either Tomas or Sektor), he would never deny his love for you
- When speaking to you, Bi Han's rough voice was paired with tender words and kind gestures. After a good round of sparring, he'd praise you and make sure you were given enough to eat.
- He'd even make sure your patrols would not last into the night, Bi Han spoiling you by making sure you got ample sleep
- Bi Han would also walk beside you, not in front as he did with others. Just as he respected those with power, he respected his elders
- It shocked you, considering the trauma you had heard from his brothers, but when you brought it up to him, he gave you a simple answer
- "It is respect. What happened back then does not change my beliefs."
- Speaking of his beliefs, I genuinely believe he would do things the most traditionally when it comes to dating and marriage
- He and his brothers may fight in regards to ethnic customs, but they can both agree on how to treat the person they pursue
- Bi Han would plan all of the dates (during the rare days off you had). He wouldn't "try", just do, and he'd do so with impeccable detail. He had once sent you a letter to your room (his room was only a couple doors away), with a detailed itinerary
- in the list: five-thirty, casual, village restaurant, be pretty (he can be so cute sometimes)
- Bi Han would never fail to gift you a bouquet of flowers- cheap or not. However, as Grandmaster, he has power over funds as well
- Bi Han once gifted you a bouquet of an assortment of spring flowers from a florist in Fengjian after another test
- Another time, he sent initiates out to the cave of an Arctikan dragon to pick the rare flowers that grew there
- the flowers were a beautiful blue hue, and the frost breath the dragon breathed gave it an semi-immortal frost. So, although it will die, it will not die easily
- When you asked Bi Han about the significance of the flowers, his words melted your heart more
- "Like my love, it won't die as quickly as my physical form. My heart will transcend everything- all for you"
=====================
i love Bi Han
anyways another super easy finish. be prepared though, i've got more fics on the way!
stay tuned, and i'll see yall in the next fic!
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sitkowski · 4 months ago
Text
sweet surrender (nick folio x oc)
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pairing: nick folio x harper (oc)
cw: 18+ MDNI ⚠️ fake dating, kinda crappy parents, vaginal fingering. doing things on a motorcycle that probably aren't realistically possible.
word count: 3.8k
author's note: this one wasn't originally started with the intention of being posted around the birthday boy's day, but here we are. i've seen enough rom-coms and hallmark movies to know anything is possible. title comes from the song by sarah mclachlan 🫶🏻 dividers by @saradika-graphics
⇉ masterpost || taglist signups
Harper’s flip flops smack noisily against the asphalt as she hurries across the parking lot. She’s already seventeen minutes late, and her mother doesn’t like to be kept waiting. The second her hand is on the handle to the restaurant door, her phone pings loudly in her purse for the fourth time since she left work. She didn’t even think of trying to go home and change, knowing that it would only delay the inevitable more.
Inside the quaint little bar and grill, Harper’s mother sits in the back at a small table, disappointment evident on her face as she approaches the table. There were many things that she considered hell, and lunch with her mother was one of them. But she knew if she didn’t go, she’d just keep bugging her until her sister’s wedding. And somewhere between work and arriving at the restaurant, Harper came up with a possibly insane plan.
“Hi mom,” she sinks down in the chair across from her and grabs a menu. “Sorry I’m late. I had to wait for someone to relieve me at the bar—”
“I already ordered you a sweet tea. I know it’s your favorite.”
Harper tries her very best not to seem shocked at that, because she knows there’s probably an ulterior motive behind it. “Um, thanks.”
“Look, I know I’m a broken record here,” her mother begins, and there it is. “But I wish you weren’t coming to this wedding alone. You’re the last of my children without a partner, don’t you feel like the odd person out?”
It takes everything Harper has not to get up and leave right then and there. She tells herself that her mom is only looking out for her, that she just wants her to be happy. But somehow, she’s always equated happiness with finding someone, having a boyfriend. Being the youngest of four, and right now the only single child, she’s heard it all so much over the years, and it’s one of the reasons why she’s kept any relationships she’s had to herself until they got serious. Which, of course, hadn’t happened in a long time.
“I have a date for the wedding.” she blurts out instead. Harper is a liar. She has nothing remotely close to a date, but she sees the way her mother’s eyes light up, and she raises her hand before she can immediately start drilling her with questions about this nonexistent date. “It’s still very new, but he’s nice. And I’ll let you meet him before the wedding, at the final rehearsal. But for now, can we just keep this between us?”
“Oh absolutely, of course!” her mom says. But Harper knows, her mom is a liar too, and the entire family will know before the end of the day. “I’m just happy you found someone, I know you’ve got to be lonely in that house all by yourself.”
Harper opens her mouth to say something else, but the waitress arrives with their drinks and to take their orders. She’s never been so grateful for the distraction. Her mother even changes the subject before their food arrives. But now all Harper can think about is the fact that she has to convince her neighbor to be her plus one to a wedding.
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It’s either a coincidence or a twisted act of fate that Harper’s neighbor is outside working on his bike when she pulls into her driveway. She and Nick aren’t exactly close friends; they’re friendly with one another, she grabs any mail that comes while he’s on tour for him and makes sure his three plants don’t die. He asks her about her day if they catch each other outside at the same time, and once they shared a few beers on his porch after she accidentally locked herself out. She baked him cookies.
And now she’s got to ask him this huge favor.
She knows she could get out of this with her mom, admit she lied or say this mystery guy broke up with her. But as she gets out of her car and looks over at Nick in his driveway, wearing a fitted black tank top and his hands stained with grease, she realizes she wants to prove a point. Her shutting the car door seems to grab his attention, and he turns to wave at her. She lifts her hand in return before taking a deep breath and walking across the section of grass that separates their houses.
“Is something wrong with your bike?” she asks by way of greeting.
Nick shakes his head, wiping his hands off on a rag from his back pocket. “Nah, I just like doing everything on it myself. I’ve got the free time right now.”
“No big tours coming up?”
“Not for a few weeks,” he shoves the rag back into his pocket and pushes his hair back out of his face. “It’s hot out, you want a drink?”
“As long as it’s alcoholic, please.”
She follows him up to his porch and he disappears inside. Harper sits in on the porch swing, picking nervously at her chipped nail polish. The worst that can happen is he can say no, that’s what she tells herself. She waits for Nick to come back, holding out a glass to her. Her eyebrows raise because instead of beer, he brings her whiskey.
“You look like you could use it,” he admits, before sitting beside her. The last time they did this, it was just two beers sitting on the porch steps so she could keep an eye out for the locksmith. It’s not lost on her that this is the closest she’s been to him before. “Everything okay?”
“Just…lunch with my mom. My sister’s wedding is coming up and she’s being extra…extra.”
“She’s stressing you out?”
“More like she won’t stop asking me who I’m bringing to the wedding as a plus one,” Harper takes a sip of the whiskey and rubs her forehead. “I kind of…told her I had a date, when I didn't.”
Nick winces sympathetically, “Ouch.”
She nods in agreement before taking a deep breath and looking over at him. “So I have this stupidly huge favor to ask, and I know you’re probably busy with your band even though you said you have a break, or maybe you just wanna be left alone in which case I will finish this drink and go, but do you maybe wanna pretend to be my date to this wedding?”
She knows that she’s babbling, and she sees the way his eyes widen a little at her question. He’s quiet though, for a lot longer than she thought he’d be, and she fully expects him to let her down gently when he speaks.
“Yeah, sure.”
“I totally get it, we don’t even know each other all that well so if you don’t want to I’ll find someone who—”
“Harper, stop!” he laughs a little, reaching over to put a hand on her knee to cut off her second round of anxious speaking. She blinks and looks down at his hand and then back at his face. “I said I would. I’ll be your fake boyfriend.”
She doesn’t mean to let out a little squeak and throw her arms around his neck, but she can’t help it. She lets go quickly, her face on fire. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, but thank you—”
“Hey it’s no problem, she’s obviously driving you a little insane and I don’t mind helping. I wasn’t kidding when I said I’ve got a few weeks off.”
“It’s seriously just two days, the final rehearsal dinner and then the wedding and reception,” she explains and he nods along. “Do you…do you own a suit?”
She doesn’t mean it in an insulting way, but she’s only ever seen him in t-shirts and jeans, and his riding leathers. That was a distracting enough image, and she quickly banishes it from her mind.
Nick doesn’t seem offended. “I can clean up when I need to. Unless you want to traumatize your mother in which case I am fully prepared to take you to this thing on my bike and make myself her worst nightmare. I’m flexible.”
Harper downs the rest of her whiskey, letting it burn all the way down her throat so that the flush that comes across her cheeks can be blamed on something else.
“Just a nice dress shirt will work,” she pauses and thinks about it. “And yeah, maybe your bike.”
She imagines her mother’s face when she shows up to the rehearsal on the back of Nick’s bike. It wouldn’t be so much the motorcycle itself, but Harper on the back of it in a dress. If this is going to be the way that she’s going to get her off of her back about dating, so be it.
“So, if we’re pretending to date, should I have a cover story?” Nick asks.
Harper hadn’t thought about that. Her mom was nosy, she was going to want every little detail of how she and Nick met, how long they’d been together, what their plans for the future would be. Even if it was just two days, she has to have some kind of details besides him having a motorcycle and being in a band. 
I mean,” he seems to be able to tell that she’s struggling with what to say. “We kind of already have our story, don’t we?”
“We do?” she doesn’t let herself get stuck on how that sounds. Our story.
“We’re neighbors who became friends, you came over and had a few beers when you got locked out of your place and it just…took off from there?”
It sounds so easy, and it’s not even a lie. She nods. “Yeah, that works.”
“So when is this thing? That way I’ve got time to get my bike nice and shiny.”
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The day of the final rehearsal approaches quickly. Harper spends most of the morning out with her sisters, getting pampered for the day. They ask her questions about her mystery guy, and she gives them vague but believable answers. When Nick agreed to do this for her, he also gave her a little bit of a rundown on himself in case of situations just like this. She almost wondered if he’d had to be a fake boyfriend before.
When she goes home, she puts on the green floral dress she bought for the day, and even though she knows it’s not exactly practical for the back of a motorcycle, she likes how it looks. She’s doing the finishing touches on her makeup when there’s a knock on the front door. Feeling oddly nervous, Harper goes to answer it. 
Nick wasn’t lying when he said he could clean up when he needed to and he took her words to heart; the black dress shirt he’s wearing beneath his leather jacket looks really good on him. They’re kind of just standing there, staring at each other for a few minutes.
“You look gorgeous,” Nick says, and Harper blushes. His eyes drift down, and the corner of his mouth tilts up. “And while those shoes are very pretty, they’re not safe for the bike. Do you have any flats you can wear?”
Harper slips back into the house and grabs a pair from her hall closet, switching them out and putting her heels into a bag to bring with her. When she comes back out, she follows Nick down to his bike. He hands her a helmet, one that isn’t a full face like his.
“Figured you didn’t wanna sweat off your makeup on the ride.” he says, and she thinks he’s teasing her. “Have you ever been on a motorcycle before?”
She’d been on the back of a friend’s bike in high school, but it had been another style and she knew there was a difference between the two. “Nope.”
“Don’t worry, it’s the safest thing you’ll ever have between your legs.”
Harper’s mouth opens and closes again in surprise, before her eyes narrow. “Did you…did you just quote Girls Just Wanna Have Fun to me?”
Smiling proudly, Nick takes the helmet out of her hands, putting it on her. She holds her breath as he buckles it for her, before pulling on a pair of black leather gloves. He grabs his own helmet and puts it on. With his help, she gets on the bike behind him. She’s able to tuck the skirt of her dress enough so it won’t blow when they’re on the open road. This part she knows enough about, and she puts her hands on his sides. Nick reaches down, wrapping his hand around her wrist and pulling until she gets the message, wrapping her arms tightly around his torso. Harper presses her cheek between his shoulder, clenching her fingers in his jacket.
There was nothing more exhilarating than being on the back of Nick’s bike. It’s not that far from their houses to the venue where the final rehearsal and wedding is being held, but she enjoys every minute of the ride. The parking lot is littered with familiar cars, and Nick parks his bike, cutting the engine. It takes Harper a minute to be able to loosen her grip on his jacket, and she can still feel the rumble from beneath her in her thighs. She lets out a shaky breath, undoing the strap of the helmet and taking it off. In front of her, Nick holds out his hand so she can lift herself off of the seat. When her feet touch the ground, her legs are still shaking.
She can see her mom and her sister Reece watching her from the alcove by the entrance, and it’s hard to miss the smirk on Reece’s face and the look of concern on her mother’s. Harper takes off her flats and slips her heels back on before fluffing out her hair. She watches Nick get off the bike, and he takes off his helmet, gloves and jacket. He’s got the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled to his elbows, and it shouldn’t be nearly as distracting as it is.
“Ready to do this?” he asks, holding out his hand to her. 
Harper nods, lacing her fingers through his. He pulls her closer and she swallows hard, unable to avoid the smile that comes to her face. “Yeah.”
Making the introductions almost seems like the easy part. Within minutes of meeting, all of her sisters are enamored with Nick, including the bride to be. Her mother is a different story, but Harper already knew that it would happen like this. She hears the words drummer and motorcycle club and puts on the most believable fake smile she can. But Harper genuinely wants them to like Nick, even if it is pretend. And for the most part, they do.
“And your band…it does well?” her mother asks sometime between the final rehearsal and dinner, and Harper feels the evening going downhill. 
“They’re viral on Tik Tok,” her grandmother says. Nick smiles that wide smile again and her grandmother winks at him. “Leave them alone, dear. They seem very happy together.”
It eases the tension for Harper, just a little. Beside her, Nick puts his hand on her thigh in a comforting gesture, and she relaxes back in the seat.
The rest of the dinner goes okay, until her mother asks to speak to her privately. She leads her off to the hallway of the floor they’re on away from everyone else. Most of the day has been a blur but Nick’s been there with her the whole time, and she’s thought that they were pretty convincing.
“I know what you’re doing,” her mom says, and Harper frowns. “How could you hide something like this from us?”
“Mom, what—”
“The way that boy looks at you, there is no way that this is new. How long have the two of you been together that you couldn’t tell me, or any of us?”
She almost lets out a sigh of relief, but her mom’s words register with her. She thinks that they’ve been together for longer than she’s said, because of the way that Nick looks at her? From what she’s been able to tell, he’s looking at her the same way he has since they met. Sure, he’s touching her a little bit more, but that was all part of the plan. Wasn’t it?
“You just met him today, and you think he looks at me like, what?”
Her mom’s look turns wistful. “Like your dad used to look at me.”
The words are a punch to the gut, and not in an entirely bad way. Her parents were deeply in love once upon a time. But she doesn’t think that she and Nick know each other well enough for that to be true. Still, her mom wouldn’t have dragged her out here and said something like this unless she saw something that Harper apparently didn’t.
“Mom, there’s something—”
“Babe,” Nick appears in the hallway, and it’s obvious that he might have overheard something that was said, because he comes over, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Jolly wants me to stop by before we head home, would it be okay if we headed out now? I know things are wrapping up for the night.”
“You two go on, we’ll see you in the morning.” Harper’s mom says, answering for her.
She hugs Harper and gives Nick a polite smile before walking back into the banquet hall. It’s not until they’re in the elevator that Harper finally asks. “Who’s Jolly?”
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Nick doesn’t take her home right away, turning the bike the opposite direction that they came. Harper doesn’t question it, she just burrows against him comfortably and lets him take her wherever he wants. She’d been grateful for the rescue while dealing with her mom, but she wonders what’s going to happen after the wedding tomorrow. She assumes that things will just go back to how they were before, the two of them being neighbors. It’s something, at least.
It’s dusk by the time Nick stops the bike, in a secluded little spot overlooking mountains and trees. Harper’s pretty sure she came to this spot with a boy when she was in high school. Nick drops the kickstand and takes off his helmet, and Harper takes hers off too. But he doesn’t get off the bike, and she stays leaning into him, enjoying the quiet and the view.
“I know you heard what my mom said,” she whispers into his jacket, and she feels him tense a little before he relaxes. “I thought it was all pretend.”
“And if I said that I’ve been trying to work up the nerve to ask you out for months and thought this was going to be the best way to do it?”
Harper sits up and pulls herself off the bike, and it’s just like he knows what she’s planning to do because he slides back on the seat, making room for her. He hauls her into his lap, her thighs spread over his as she sits facing him.
“I like you, Nick Folio,” she murmurs, draping her arms over his shoulders.  “I mean, you’re viral on Tik Tok after all.”
He throws his head back and laughs. “I like your grandma.”
“And what about me?”
“Oh, I really like you,” he says, before wrapping one gloved hand around the side of her neck and kissing her. 
Harper kisses him back, fisting her hands in the sides of his jacket, trying to get him closer. But she’s worried that too much motion is going to overturn the bike. It’s probably a miracle that it’s staying upright anyway. She slides her hands beneath his jacket, pulling at the buttons on his shirt. Her eyes widen at the sight of the tattoo on his chest, and she files that away for another time when she can drag this out and trace it with her tongue.
Nick pulls back, long enough to tug off his gloves and shove them in his jacket pocket before shrugging out of the leather and letting it fall behind him. Keeping his eyes on Harper’s face, his hands slide up beneath the skirt of her dress. Her breath hitches in her chest at the feeling of his hot hands on her inner thighs, skimming upwards until they touch the edge of her panties.
It’s not lost on her that they’re out here in the open where anyone could come by and see them. That doesn’t really matter to her though, not when Nick’s scraping his teeth over the column of her throat and pulling her underwear to the side.
“Is this okay?” he asks, voice low.
Harper nods quickly, reaching down to wrap her hand around his wrist and guide his hand where she wants it. His fingers slide between her folds, thumb teasing over her clit. She moans, head falling back and his free hand tugs at the top of her dress, pulling it and the cup of her bra down so he can get one of her nipples between his teeth.
A sharp cry escapes her when he eases first one, then a second finger inside of her, and when his fingers curl upward, she finds herself trying to lean back into the handlebars behind her. Nick’s fingers tangle in her hair and he pulls her mouth back to his. Harper nibbles on his bottom lip, tongue sliding over his as she grinds down against his hand.
Whimpering, she buries her hands in his hair, yanking at the longer strands. She’s already on edge, and she’d be surprised that Nick’s able to work her up so quickly, but she can’t think about anything else but this. His forehead presses into hers, eyes locked on the space between them, watching his fingers rock in and out of her. He moves them faster, adding in a third, and Harper’s lost beneath the orgasm crashing into her. The cry she lets out echoes in the air around them, bouncing off of the trees.
Nick pulls his fingers out slowly, bringing them up to his mouth to lick them clean. The sight and the aftershocks of her orgasm leave her dizzy. She starts to reach for his belt, but Nick catches her wrist, pulling her hand up and kissing her palm.
“Later, I promise. I kinda wanna get you home and into my bed.”
Harper can’t argue with that. They fix their clothes and she moves back behind him. As she’s putting her helmet back on, a thought occurs to her. “What happened to this being the safest thing I’ll ever have between my legs?”
“Honey, you haven’t seen anything yet.” he murmurs before putting on his helmet and starting the bike.
She grabs onto him, unable to keep the smile off of her face as he points the bike in the direction of home.
⇉ taglist:
@circle-with-me @deathblacksmoke @malice-ov-mercy @baddestomens
@ladyveronikawrites @dominuslunae @collapsedglasshouses @collidewiththesavannah
@thatchickwiththecamera
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therandompagesblog · 7 days ago
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SKZ Mate: Chapter 5
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Warnings: Childhood trauma, communes, assault, verbal threats
"Hollow Woods is where I grew up. On the Eastbank near Wraithwood. I grew up in a relatively large pack, there were about twenty other werewolves. Some alpha. Some beta and some omega. The majority of them, all had children. I was one of the children. There were roughly 15 or 18 children, there may have been more. It was more like a commune. The children of the pack would go to school in the morning and learn how to be a werewolf. You would learn the basics of hunting and survival skills. The older children, like myself, would learn how to be what we are. In my case, learn about being an omega...
You were incredibly unlucky if you were an omega in our pack. It was the worst thing to ever be. If you were an omega you were fated to downfall. As a female omega, your job was to be a concubine for an alpha. To produce an Apex. Yet, it was never possible for them. The majority of omegas that were born were male in our pack. The ones who were female lost their lives because they were succumbed to mistreatment. Omega's had little rights in our tribe. They were subjected to their alphas most of the time, meaning when an alpha wanted something an omega did it. If an alpha had a rut they needed an omega. If an alpha was angry they needed an omega to take the pain away. Despite all that, an omega was not allowed near an alpha nor a Beta. They were only allowed near them if the called upon them or sent them to a beta. It was tough for all of us. Even for my mother!
My mother was an omega, conceived by two omegas that rebelled against their alphas. Before they were sentenced to death they pleaded with the alpha at the time to take my mother in. My mother was 14 at the time when she watched her parents die. My mother swore she would never make the same mistake her parents made. Instead, my mother was forced to be with our head alpha as his mate in hopes of producing an Apex, but sadly it never happened. My brothers Joshua, Samuel and I were born as Omega. Even my younger brother Milo came out as an omega. We watched our mother for years get slandered and beaten by our alpha for never conceiving an Apex. What was funny to us was our mother conceived an Alpha with Jiyong! Turns out our head alpha cannot conceive other alphas because they were not soul mates. Poor Alpha Jackson! He never got what he dreamed of.
That was until our head alpha committed a heinous act. He forced an omega to conceive an apex through necromancy. This led to an upral with neighbouring packs, particularly one pack. They threatened our pack and told them they would be reported to the elders and the council. So they had to make a pact, or a trade, if you will. They will keep the secret of the apex being born through necromancy if my pack hands over a virgin omega! Well, you see, that was easy for our head alpha because I was the only virgin female omega. The only reason I was a virgin omega is because I hated half of the beta boys in our back. They were flamboyant casanova peacocks."
"So what happened to the apex and their mother did they survive? I've never heard of the omega mother surviving a forced apex pregnancy?" Changbin interrupted her novella out of curiosity. He had heard the story of an apex being born but he didn't think it was true. "From what the pack I was given to told me, they both didn't survive. The mother died during childbirth and the apex died because he went into a sub-drop too early on." Y/N answered with a shrug. "That's crazy. What were they thinking." Changbin stated. He couldn't believe an infant could go through a sub-drop. It was near enough impossible. "Not to disrespect your pack nor your family, but was it more like a breeding farm?" Seungmin asked, causing everyone in the room to freeze. They all thought the same thing but no one wanted to say anything to offend her as she was opening up for the first time with them. "Ah. Yes. Yes it was. They breed to create omegas in hopes that omega would be an alpha's soul mate. Yet it never happened or the omega rebelled and fled"  Y/N answered sadly as she looked down at the wooden floor. "That's fucked up," Seungmin stated. He was about to continue when Chan stopped him with a warning glare. "Please continue Y/N. If at any point it gets too much we can stop and talk about it another day." Chan reassured with a promise.
"Going back to what I was saying. I was basically given to-" "It was Ateez wasn't it? You were given to Hongjoong." The red-haired alpha interrupted with a low growl. His eyes narrowed in on her. "How di-" "I can smell him all over you. Such a disgrace." Hyunjin spat before walking out, leaving the room with an icy feeling. None of them knew what to say at Hyunjins outburst. "Please don't mind Hyunjin little wolf. Hyunjin has quite the history with Ateez." Chan explained with a sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Chan realised this might complicate things as Chan had already stolen from Hongjoong before. "It makes sense," Seungmin added as he watched the omega drop her head in shame. "What does hyung?" The younger alpha asked as he pulled on Seungmin's jumper. "Why our omega was so afraid of us? Look at her Innie. Look at the state of her. You can tell what they've done to her. It was probably that demonic little alpha." Seungmin growled making the omega shrink into the sofa even more. "Seonghwa isn't an alpha," Y/N muttered. "What?" They all said. "Seonghwa is a beta. He just pretends to be an alpha. They only have one other alpha, Wooyoung. It's only because Hongjoong gives him the power that he acts like a fucking alpha." Y/N growled, her eyes sparkling in anger. "So the other six are Betas?" Chan asked in confirmation causing Y/N to stare at him in bewilderment. "You mean the other four are betas. Two of them are omegas. Three including me." Y/N said. "Wait what!" Jisung and Changbin shouted. "Those fucking liars. They're corrupted." Changbin screamed. "Yeah, and you guys are not corrupt," Y/N answered as she rolled her eyes. As far as she was aware Straykids was as bad. "I guess that means we have a lot to think about, but for now let's hold that thought. We can think about Ateez's politics later." Chan looked around the room before continuing. " Minho can you go and check on Hyunjin he will need your guidance. Changbin take Jisung and Seungmin to the border and patrol for the next few hours. They will have realised Y/N-"
Everything sped up for Chan in an instant. One minute his omega was opening up about her background and the next minute she was on the floor withering in immense pain. He knew within seconds it was her previous alpha trying to track her down. He was trying to communicate with her through his bond and mark, but it was only resulting in her suffering. It was clear to Chan that her old alpha, Hongjoong, was trying to make her suffer. Chan knew he needed to remove the mark from her, both of them, but it would be too obvious. He needed Hyunjin to help him and he needed him to act now, regardless of the consequences!
"Hyunjin!" A panicked Chan called out. Within seconds of calling Hyunjin, Chan had his mouth over the top of Hongjoong's mark and bit down on top of it at the same time Hyunjin bit down on the mark on her ass. Both of them could feel the power of the two Ateez marks as they tried to override it by forcing their power onto her. The problem with overriding an alpha mark is it could result in death for that omega. Wolves knew it was rare to have a soul mate which was why they heavily branded and marked their omegas so they wouldn't go missing. Ateez was aware of that. They knew she wasn't really theirs, but they had to lie to her so she wouldn't leave them. What neither of the Alphas realised was how much power the two Ateez alphas had. Chan and Hyunjin were struggling to break the bond as they assaulted her neck, forcing submission. It was an awful sight to see and quite frankly frightened the other forgotten wolves who were witnessing the assault. They had never seen either of the alphas in such an aggressive sadistic state. They couldn't believe how quickly Chan ripped her jumper to sink his fangs straight into her. His eyes glowed a dark shade of ruby as blood poured down her neck. Hyunjin, wasn't any kinder as he bit down on her ass with a deep growl, is hands dug into her calf while the other dug into her waist, leaving nail marks.
The two younger betas, Felix and Jisung were in hysterics as they jumped straight into Minho's lap cuddling up to him. They didn't like to see their omega in such an awful position, they wanted to take it away. They wanted to rip the two alphas off of her and make it all better, but they couldn't. None of them appreciated what was happening. It was making their stomach churn the louder Y/N cried. Her cries were getting louder and it didn't seem like the alphas were going to stop. Jeongin couldn't take it either. A new alpha dealing with the heightened emotions in the room was overwhelming. He could smell the omegas pain. He could smell her blood and anxiety that was bleeding through the entirety of the house. It was too much for him, he had to leave before he acted out. The other two betas, Seungmin and Changbin were stress nesting. They had decided to rearrange their alpha's bedroom completely, ready for their omega to rest in. Seungmin ripped off the covers in a panicked emotional state, slightly sniffing to himself as he changed the pillows. He feared the omega was really going to hate them now. Changbin was aggressively moving the furniture around, cursing his ancestors for making his life hell.
They all felt conflicted. Some felt sick. Some felt remorse. Some felt anger and hatred. Some even felt let down by their ancestors. Except for one little beta, Jisung. He felt hope despite all the trouble she brought. Jisung believed she was the best omega for them. He could feel it deep down which was why he had to stop them. He didn't want her to suffer anymore. His poor omega was bleeding out to the point she had blood coming out her mouth and neither of the alphas realised they were taking it too far. Jisung plucked up the courage to slam straight into his head alpha, causing Chan to slide his teeth down the front of her chest, before falling into the wall. Jisung knew he was risking it all for an omega they barely knew but it felt right as he stood in front of his head alpha stupidly as he tried to challenge him. His heart thumped in panic as he knew he royally fucked up as he heard the little omega scream out in pain as Ateez tried to push the unidentified invasive werewolf out. "Go. Downstairs. Now." Chan alpha ordered out of anger. Jisung put his head down in shame as he headed towards Alpha Hyunjins room of torture, knowing he was going to spend however long in there. Jisung shamefully opened up the metal gate and headed towards the metal chains, wrapping them around his ankles waiting for his punishment that would only come when the omega was safe.
Moments later, Jisung heard Chan and Hyunjin's heavy footsteps coming down into the basement. He wasn't afraid. In fact, he was relieved they were down sooner than he thought. It meant she was safe and marked. Of course, Jisung wasn't happy about his upcoming punishment but it will suffice until he gets to see his omega. "Jisung look at me," Chan ordered. His harsh voice cut through his body. "You know why I sent you down here?". "Yes, because I threw you into the wall for hurting our omega." He said blankly. His answer stunned the alphas. "Because you threw me into the wall." Chan nodded his head, thinking about the sarcastic answer he gave. "Alright. Phase back and forth fifty times a day until I say stop." Chan stated as he headed out the door before stopping. "You can start when Hyunjin breaks one of your back legs."
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poohsources · 1 year ago
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🐝  *  ―  𝑨𝑽𝑨𝑻𝑨𝑹: 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑳𝑨𝑺𝑻 𝑨𝑰𝑹𝑩𝑬𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.
❛  i'm angry at myself!  ❜ ❛  it's easy to do nothing, it's hard to forgive.  ❜ ❛  you miscalculated. i love them more than i fear you.  ❜ ❛  there is nothing wrong with letting the people who love you help you.  ❜ ❛  but now you're not letting yourself feel anything. i know sometimes it hurts more to hope and it hurts more to care. but you have to promise me that you won't stop caring.  ❜ ❛  my own mother thought i was a monster ... she was right of course, but it still hurt.  ❜ ❛  in the darkness, hope is something you give yourself.  ❜ ❛  never forget who you are, for surely the world won't.  ❜ ❛  why am i so bad at being good?  ❜ ❛  it is important to draw wisdom from different places. if you take it from only one place, it becomes rigid and stale.  ❜ ❛  sometimes the best way to solve your own problems is to help someone else.  ❜ ❛  and now you have come to the crossroads of destiny. it's time for you to choose.  ❜ ❛  you may not always see the light at the end of the tunnel, but if you keep moving, you will come to a better place.  ❜ ❛  protection and power are overrated. i think you are very wise to choose happiness and love.  ❜ ❛  get over here, [ name ]. being part of the group also means being part of group hugs.  ❜ ❛  stop! stop it right now! what's wrong with you? we don't have time for fun and games with the war going on.  ❜ ❛  i'm too young to die!  ❜ ❛  in my country, we exchange a pleasant 'hello' before asking questions.  ❜ ❛  i didn't know what or when, but i knew i'd know it when i knew it!  ❜ ❛  the past can be a great teacher.  ❜ ❛  when we hit our lowest point, we are open to the greatest change.  ❜ ❛  there really is no fathoming the depths of my hatred for this place.  ❜ ❛  failure is only the opportunity to try again, only more wisely this time.  ❜ ❛  i wanted to take out all of my anger on them. but i couldn't. i don't know if it's because i'm too weak ... or if it's because i'm strong enough not to.  ❜ ❛  look [ name ], you're going to fail a lot before things work out. even though you will fail over and over again, you have to try every time. you can't quit because you're afraid you might fail.  ❜ ❛  while it is always best to believe in oneself, a little help from others can be a great blessing.  ❜ ❛  you must never give in to despair. allow yourself to slip down that road, and you surrender to your lowest instincts.  ❜ ❛  if we knew each other back then, do you think we could have been friends too?  ❜ ❛  you know, [ name ], i don't care what anyone else says about you. you're pretty smart.  ❜ ❛  if i try, i fail. if i don't try, i'm never going to get it.  ❜ ❛  let your anger out, and then let it go. forgive him.  ❜ ❛  pride is not the opposite of shame, but rather its source. true humility is the only antidote to shame.  ❜ ❛  life happens wherever you are, whether you make it or not.  ❜ ❛  the greatest illusion of this world is the illusion of separation. things you think are separate and different are actually one and the same.  ❜ ❛  you stand alone. that has always been your greatest weakness.  ❜ ❛  bad skin? normal teenagers worry about bad skin, i don't have that luxury.  ❜ ❛  in my dream, we were right in the middle of the invasion, and you stopped to use the bathroom. we die because of your tiny bladder.  ❜ ❛  you need to find someone who waits and listens before striking.  ❜ ❛  everyone has to be treated like they're worth giving a chance.  ❜ ❛  i don't need luck, though. i don't want it. i've always had to struggle and fight, and that's made me strong. it's made me who i am.  ❜
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yearningagain · 3 months ago
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it's enough (to make a girl blush): chapter two
HELLO!!! welcome to chapter two! i'm amazed at the traction that this has gained with just the first chapter, and it's giving me so much motivation to continue this!
i've also decided to open up my ask box for suggestions for rambles and ficlets, so please shoot me a message if you feel so inclined!
and of course a huge thank you to @kayleeofcamelot for betaing and helping me so much!! without further ado!
also on ao3!
total wc: 2.6k | wc: 1.4k | rating: e (18+) | pairing: steddie | cw: none | tags: a/b/o, alpha eddie munson, omega steve harrington, modern au, baker steve, famous eddie, getting together, gay eddie, bi steve, soulmates/true mates/scent mates, side buckingham
part one | part three
--------------
Steve loved Robin more than he thought he could love anyone. She was the peanut butter to his jelly, the rock to his roll, the yin to his yang. He doesn't know how he managed as long as he did before meeting her, and he frankly doesn't know what he would do without her now. 
That being said, sometimes she does make Steve want to give himself another concussion. 
Lunch at the deli had been uneventful. They had eaten their sandwiches while nestled in the window booth in the back corner, turned to look out onto the streets of Chicago. Most of their conversation was driven by judgmental comments about passerby’s, ranging from jabs about interesting color choices on someone's tracksuit to monologues about wearing a faux fur coat with cheetah print leggings (“It’s the principle, Rob! You wouldn’t get it”).
After finishing their meals, the pair made their way across the street to the record store. Upon entry, Steve was surrounded by deep earthy scents, old vinyl and incense mingled with the fresh flowers growing in pots littered about. And that brought them to their current situation.
Robin was making a complete and utter fool out of herself. She was bright red in the face, and Steve couldn’t tell if it was from pure mortification or her complete lack of breathing for the past five minutes. As soon as a little blonde omega, introduced as Chrissy, emerged from the shelves to greet them and show them around, the alpha had not been able to stop her mouth from running and running. Now, normally in these situations, Steve would insert himself into Robin's one sided conversation and slow her down, purely to rescue the other person from being roped into a woven tale of at least six subjects at once. But after one look at Chrissy, and the adoration and attentiveness in her expression, he decided to leave it be. 
At the back corner of the shop was a small gathering of armchairs, a loveseat, and a small wooden coffee table. Plopping down into the comfiest looking chair, leaving the girls to their own devices, Steve pulled out his phone to start tackling the sea of messages he had received during the night. 
Dusty
12:58 AM: STEVE
STEVEN
12:59 AM: STEVEN HARRINGTON
STEVEN LOUISE HARRINGTON
1:01 AM: do you even love me anymore
1:08 AM: if i were dying i'd be dead by now
1:14 AM: ☠️☠️🩸🩸
1:27 AM: okay whatever goodnight steven text me when you’re  alive again ig 🙄
11:39 AM: Jesus Christ kid
That’s not even my name
11:40 AM: Did you die?
11:41 AM: no
11:41 AM: So what was so important?
11:43 AM: before i say anything i want to remind you that  i know all of your secrets and also you love me sooo much  and you’re the best babysitter ever and you owe me for  letting my mom hire you at the shop
11:44 AM: Dustin. What did you do.
11:44 AM: nothing!
i didn’t do anything i swear on my mother
11:45 AM: Okay…
So…?
11:46 AM: my favorite band is playing here next month but its an 18+ show
mom would never come with me, she’d have a heart attack i think
so i need you to take me
11:48 AM: i can pay for your ticket if you want!
11:50 AM: steve?
A loud crash echoed from within the shop, followed by an extremely disheveled Robin popping her head into the nook. "I need your help."
Leaving the girls was both the best and worst decision Steve could have made. 
In the ten minutes of inattentiveness, the alpha had managed to talk for seven of them consecutively. After realizing she had been talking herself in circles, she tried to reign it in, which ultimately ended in her accidental confession of attraction towards Chrissy. That then led to a kiss-turned-make-out, in which Robin had tried to push the shorter girl against a wall for more leverage. However, blinded by her circumstances, she pushed the omega into one of the shelves, effectively knocking it and its contents to the ground. They were old antique shelves that had been modified with basket-drawers to store records and other miscellaneous objects, they were heavy . 
Steve would be upset, but the dark blush and lovesick smile never quite left Robin's face. 
With that mess dealt with, he was finally able to respond to Dustin. He shot a quick 'Sure. Just LMK the deets ' text and slid his phone back into his pocket. Chrissy led them both back to the nook, bustling about and making sure they were comfortable.
"Steve, I am so incredibly sorry about that! Please sit here, let me go grab something and I'll be right back!" She dashed off down a small hallway towards the back of the building.
Steve shook his head at Robin, sighing loudly. "Couldn't keep it in your pants?"
The alpha huffed and looked away. She huffed again, this time more of a sniff. And then again. 
"Steve, are you fucking with me or something?"
Furrowing his eyebrows, he followed suit in her actions by taking his own sniff of the air. "What? What's going on?"
She continues sniffing, seemingly following the scent. Standing from her spot on the loveseat, laser focused on tracking, she walks right over to Steve.
"Your scent, it's changing. I knew it was different this morning! I know what you smell like, dingus. And you don't smell like you anymore. Well, okay, you still smell like you! But it's like you're roasting apples in the woods on a camping trip. And you've always smelled like apples, so I'm glad that's the same, but now it's different. Has anything weird happened lately? Have you felt different at all? Do you have a fever?" Her curiosity morphs into concern and she starts placing her hands over the omegas face, seeing if she can tell the temperature. "I've never been good at this. Should we go to the doctor? Do we need an ambulance? Shit, did you get poisoned?"
Steve grabbed her hands firmly, guiding them to his chest and taking a deep breath. "Breathe. I'm not dying, Robs. I think I'd know if I was." He takes a few more measured breaths, pulling her down into his lap for a hug. 
After he was sure she was calm, he relaxed his grip, but didn't let go. "I was actually meaning to ask you about something. Nothing bad, I promise! I just... I had this really weird dream last night and I woke up convinced it had actually happened. I was so convinced there would be physical proof, but there wasn't any. But I could smell the alpha in my dream. Have you ever had a dream where you could smell the other people?"
Robin looked at him calculatingly, a crease forming in her brow at the thought. "No, never. I didn't think it was a thing that happened."
"Exactly. I could smell him, birdie. I could feel him. It was real . Until it wasn't. I woke up heartbroken. For no real reason." He sighed once more, lowering his gaze to his fingers rested in his lap.
"Okay, I am so sorry once again, and I had no intention to eavesdrop whatsoever, but I want to help." Chrissy emerged from the hallway with a plate of mini cupcakes, a sheepish expression. 
Steve waved her off. "It's all good. If you don't think I'm crazy, I don't mind suggestions."
She set the plate of cupcakes onto the coffee table and sat down on the loveseat. Robin quickly scrambled off of Steve to sit next to the other omega, shooting him an apologetic glance. 
"So, basically, I read this book once, out of pure curiosity, that was about fate and the universe and all that. It had a whole section about how, years and years ago, alphas and omegas were randomly going through what seemed to be second presentations. It started with scent changes, and apparently a lot of people experienced some sort of initial mental connection. These changes were way less severe, and oftentimes not noticeable until a random heat or rut was triggered. When that would happen, it was always a pair at a time, one alpha and one omega. The moment they would smell the other for the first time is the moment their respective presentations would complete. They'd come out the other side bonded and, most often, pupped. Their bodies were preparing."
Steve stared at Chrissy, mouth agape. "Preparing for what, exactly?"
"Their soulmate!"
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mj-iza-writer · 1 month ago
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Can you please write something with a caretaker who was in an abusive home as a child and has trauma from that, then maybe they have a nightmare about what happened to them as a child and then the whumpee comforts them?
Please?
If there is one thing I know about is childhood trauma. I am so sorry it's taken me so long to get to this request. I do hope you enjoy. -MJ
"Here you go", Caretaker handed Whumpee a mug of hot cocoa.
"Thankyou", Whumpee smiled.
Caretaker winked back, then they turned to hand their mother a cup.
"Took you long enough. I also see where I stand", their mother glared at Whumpee, "serving that one first."
"They're my patient", Caretaker only whispered.
Whumpee noticed how Caretaker seemed to cowar away from their mother. Whumpee had done it millions or times in their past. It was a slight movement, but Caretaker definitely had cowarded away.
Caretaker came in and sat down with another cup for themself.
"Lazy", their mother mumbled.
Caretaker looked down at their cup with disappointment.
"I uhm, had them up for a little while last night because of the storm", Whumpee glanced at Caretaker for a moment before looking at the mom, "storms bring back bad memories."
"My child brings back bad memories of my husband. Just as lazy, not considerate at all. I thought I raised them better", the mom stared at Whumpee.
"Funny you remind me of someone too", Whumpee spoke without thinking first.
Caretaker looked up at them quickly and shook their head no.
"Oh... I want to hear this", the mother spoke with venom in their voice, "who might that be?"
"Whumper, the person I was rescued from. They were about as rude as you", Whumpee couldn't stop themself.
"Well, I never", the mom gasped dramatically.
"Maybe you should hear it sometime. The world doesn't revolve around you. Caretaker has helped me so much. They have taken care of me, but even now, I know the world does not revolve around me. I'm not entitled to their time and energy. I would be lucky to just be in their presence. I'm sorry if you don't know Caretaker like that. You are missing out on knowing a great person."
The mother stood and eerily walked toward Whumpee. They dared to even lift their hand at Whumpee to threaten to slap them.
"Mom, they are legally protected by the state. You could go to jail if you hit them", Caretaker stood quickly and blocked their mom's path, "I, uhm, you should leave."
"I can see where I stand. I will never be back. I will never talk to you again until I receive an apology for how I was treated today", the mom leaned to the side and glared at Whumpee, "I wish Whumper would have...."
"MOM, get the fuck out of my house", Caretaker raised their voice, "you are not welcome here anymore. You may not threaten my patients. My patient did in fact almost die because of their abuser. You would never know anything about hard work. Dad died because he was working hard to support you. Get out.... now."
Caretaker came back after making sure the door was locked, and updating the police on the situation so they could watch the house.
Caretaker leaned on the doorway and looked at Whumpee for a moment.
"I-I'm sorry, I don't know.... I didn't mean to...", Whumpee made a terrified face, "I-I didn't mean to upset her. I just wasn't thinking and it all came out."
Caretaker's face turned to a big grin, "years... it's taken me years to stand up to that woman. The moment she started to threaten you, I lost it. You said what I've wanted to say for so long. At first, I was scared, but it felt... it felt good."
Whumpee looked at Caretaker with confusion, "I-I'm sorry."
"There's nothing to say sorry about my dear. You did good, and helped me", Caretaker smiled, "you helped me so much."
"Oh, ar-are you sure?", Whumpee fidgetted with their fingers, "Whumper would have killed me."
"I'm sure, do you uh? Do you want anything... more hot chocolate, a snack? Anything?", Caretaker started for the kitchen.
"No no, I'm okay", Whumpee watched them weirdly.
That night, Whumpee could hear Caretaker in the other room moving violently in their sleep.
Whumpee cautiously opened Caretaker's door and inched into their room.
Caretaker was loudly moaning while they tossed and turned.
Whumpee stood next to their bed and could see tears glistening on Caretaker's cheek. Caretaker was talking in their sleep even. Though inaudible, Whumpee could figure out what was going on.
"Caretaker", Whumpee whispered as they gently shook Caretaker's shoulder.
Caretaker startled awake and looked around. "Hmm, hmm, oh uh... Whumpee", Caretaker breathed heavily, "do yo...do you need something?"
"You were having a nightmare", Whumpee frowned.
"Yes, I know. I'm sorry, did I wake you?", Caretaker sighed sadly.
"I wasn't asleep yet", Whumpee played with their fingers nervously, "it was about her... wasn't it?"
Caretaker looked over their disheveled sheets.
"Yes, it was. I occasionally have them", Caretaker sighed again, "I'm sorry for scaring you. Come on, let's get you back to bed", Caretaker started to get up.
"Caretaker?"
"Yes Whumpee", Caretaker stopped and looked at them with concern.
"You know it isn't good to hold that in", Whumpee almost pleaded, "you need to talk to someone. You can talk to me... like how you listen to me talk about my past, and it makes me feel better."
"Whumpee, I can't seek therapy from my patient. That would be bad for everyone", Caretaker smiled weakly, "thankyou for offering though."
"Caretaker?"
"Yes Whumpee", Caretaker looked up again. This time, exhaustion was clearly on their face.
"If I was having nightmares like this.... What would you do to help me?", Whumpee whispered.
"I uh", Caretaker could see where Whumpee was going, "I suppose I would stay with you until I knew that you were sleeping comfortably, and maybe longer than that. I would probably schedule an appointment with your psychologist so they can help you. I would try to help you to the best of my abilities."
Whumpee nodded, "why won't you do that for yourself then?"
Caretaker stared at their sheets in defeat.
"Alright, I'll schedule an appointment for myself. You are wise beyond your years... you know that?", Caretaker chuckled.
Whumpee grinned sheepishly, "Whumper hated that about me. Why do you think I got beat up so often?"
"Come on, you need to get some sleep", Caretaker started to get up again.
"But I want to watch over you", Whumpee pouted.
"Yeah, no. You are still my patient. I'm not letting you stay up to do that", Caretaker stood.
"Please", Whumpee pleaded.
"No", Caretaker stated a little firmer this time.
Whumpee looked down sadly.
"How about this", Caretaker looked over their bed, "it's a pretty big bed. Do you want to bring a blanket in here and sleep in the bed? I'll put this body pillow between us. Sound fair?"
Whumpee quickly nodded with a smile.
"Alright go get your blanket", Caretaker smiled.
Whumpee came back dragging a huge comforter from their bed.
Caretaker laughed as they saw how big Whumpee was smiling.
"I don't know if I've ever seen such a big smile on someone's face", Caretaker commented as they stood to help Whumpee into the bed.
"I've never gotten away with speaking my mind before. I'd usually be bruised and battered", Whumpee snickered.
Caretaker covered Whumpee with the comforter.
"Sometimes people need to hear it", Caretaker started for their side of the bed, "I know I did, and my mother."
Caretaker leaned over the body pillow to see if Whumpee was out.
It had been a few hours since they both got comfortable into the bed.
Caretaker relaxed when they could hear gentle snores coming from Whumpee.
"My sweet patient", Caretaker cooed happily as they thought about how lucky they were to have Whumpee to take care of.
Caretaker laid back down and looked up at the ceiling. A happy smile across their face... their first genuine smile they had made in a long time.
Moments later, small snores came from Caretaker as well.
Caretaker's heart was at peace... thanks to Whumpee.
Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.
@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived
@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid
@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz
@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13
@notpeppermint @cyborg0109
@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots
@whumpbump @everythingsscary
@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr
@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee
@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems
@lavndvrr @ivymyers
@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas
@lumpofsand @watermeezer
@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains
@3-2-whump @risk606
@electrons2006 @paperprinxe
@whumprince @kaz-of-crows
@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94
@sausages-things @ragin-cajun-fangirl
@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud
@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald
@jasperthecapser @does-directions
@deafeninglittlecrown
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willalove75 · 8 months ago
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stop simping over women and pay attention to your husband. You clearly made your choice to be with a man and have his child rather than choose a woman. You bisexual women don’t get to exist in lesbian spaces when you lean towards men. Unless your husband lets to you step out on your marriage or lets you have delusional thoughts that any lesbian would want a woman knocked up by a man. You bisexual women who lean more towards men or are with men have no right to be in sapphic or lesbian spaces. And lady d is a lesbian so as if she would be with someone who let a man touch them let alone knock them up.
Oh, I'm sorry, did my husband tell you that I'm not giving him enough attention? Didn't think so.
Yes, I made a choice to be with him, because I fell in love with him. Because he's my best friend and my biggest supporter in everything I do (yes, he even supports my writing and fics and he tells me often how proud he is of me). I did not chose him because he's a man. Truthfully, his gender had absolutely nothing to do with why I married him. I just happened to fall in love with and marry a man, but that does NOT make me any less of a bisexual woman.
"You bisexual women..." and people question whether or not bi-erasure is a thing, meanwhile, this entire ask is such a great example of just that😒
"delusional thoughts that any lesbian would want a woman knocked up by a man." is truly offensive to not only every bi woman who has been with a man, but any woman who has. What about the lesbians that got pregnant by men?? Because this may come as a shock to you, but it does happen. It may not happen a lot or often, but it does. Does that mean that those women are "tainted" or "ruined" also??? No it fucking doesn't, you idiot.
It really makes me laugh when people try and use a fictional character to make a real life argument. You want to know why? BECAUSE THEY'RE NOT FUCKING REAL!!! So honestly, you have absolutely no idea if that's true or not because she's a fake fucking character from a video game. Are you also this upset at the fic writers who make her trans??? Or what about fic writers that make Alcina's partner trans??? Or are you just that much of biphobic person and this is the hill you're choosing to die on?? Either way, you're an actual bigot.
This post just SCREAMS biphobia and bi-erasure and it's fucking gross. You are so very obviously projecting your own issues and insecurities in this and honestly I would be embarrassed if I were you. Because not a single thing you said is true AT ALL or holds any merit.
Bisexual women who lean towards men or who are with men ABSOLUTELY do belong in those spaces. Just because a bisexual woman is married/with a man or leans towards men does not discredit or change their sexuality. No bi person automatically becomes straight if they date/marry the opposite gender or become gay/lesbian if they date/marry the same gender. It's called BIsexual. More than one gender. You do not get to invalidate every bi person with this shitty (and inherently wrong) opinion.
I know you wrote this trying to get a rise out of me, and congratulations because you succeeded. But I also know that people like you leave messages like this because they feel so broken and hurt and shitty that they want others to feel like that too. Unfortunately for you, I grew up in the era that birthed anonymous hate messages so you'll have to try harder next time. Not only that, but I am proud and confident in who I am and no pathetic anonymous (especially anonymous, you pussy) message is going to shake me.
I am a proud bisexual woman. I am proud to be married to my husband. I am proud that I will soon be the mother of a little boy who I will raise to be a much better person than you'll ever be. I am proud of what I've written and no, I will not stop.
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