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#Fathers.......................... well.................. they try
grimmweepers · 12 hours
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— ☆ contents: sfw, dad!sukuna handling the morning routine with your girls while you're away, fem!reader, vague hair descriptors for your babies (mention of messy hair and braids), maybe a little ooc, 0.8k wc | masterlist
"Please do our hair, Papa!"
And just like that, their adorable cheeks and flashy grins worked their magic, turning the rare morning without you into a delightful little circus.
It was honestly a travesty, a cosmic joke of the highest order that Sukuna—a man of men, built like he was meant to father sons upon sons—had been blessed with two daughters. And not just any daughters but two miniature versions of you.
You used to get so stressed leaving him alone with them but as they grew into their little personalities, you realised it wasn’t the girls you needed to worry about—it was him.
Sukuna stood in front of the mirror, holding a comb in his hand like it was a foreign weapon, and your youngest, who was perched on a stool in front of him, frowned when she saw that after all his awkward attempts, her hair was still a wild mess.
"Mama doesn't do it like this," she said matter-of-factly. All of four years old but already an expert in hair etiquette, apparently.
He sighed, glancing at her in the mirror with a look of defeat. “Well, guess what? Mama’s not here,” he gruffed, although his mouth twitched upward in amusement, "So you’ve gotta deal with me.”
She pouted as she crossed her little arms, scrunching her nose while giving him the tiniest glare. Sukuna chuckled at the sight. She looked just like you.
“But Mama doesn’t hurt me,” accusatory eyes pierced into her father as if the tugs at her scalp were intentional.
He stopped, deadpan, like he was facing the toughest opponent of his life. “You think I’m trying to hurt you on purpose?” He pointed at the comb, “This thing’s got a mind of its own.”
Your eldest daughter, who had been lounging on the futon and flipping through a picture book, piped up with a smirk, “Mama says you need to be gentle, Papa.”
“Gentle?” he muttered under his breath. She heard him regardless and nodded back at him.
Another dramatic exhale left his lips. He started again, much slower this time, painstakingly working the brush through his daughter’s hair. “Alright, princess, by the time I’m done, you’ll look so pretty, Mama's gonna be jealous. She might even eat you.”
The youngest giggled at that, wiggling in her stool as Sukuna brushed through the last tangle without any major casualties. As he tied off the braid with a ribbon, he stepped back, standing tall with his hands on his hips, impressed with his own work. “There,” he said with more confidence than he probably should, “Nailed it.”
She gave him a sidelong glance, still skeptical but he could see the admiration she was trying to hide, “It’s… okay,” she declared her final verdict. She was acting like it wasn’t the best job though her tone said otherwise.
Meanwhile, your eldest, still on the futon, didn’t miss a beat. “Mama would’ve done it faster.”
Of course, they adore you. Everyone did. But when you weren't around, Sukuna—who could wipe out an entire army with a single swipe and set whole villages aflame—found himself outmatched by a hair comb and two pint-sized versions of the love of his life. It’s no wonder you were able to tame the girls.
But he caught your eldest sliding a thumbs up from behind her book, her way of saying—It looks good, Papa.
And he thinks maybe he’s doing alright. Although, if you were here you would’ve probably swooped in and rescued him long ago whilst being heavily amused by his struggle. Of the two of you, it wasn't difficult to figure out who was more gentle and patient. He swore you could do motherhood in your sleep and he already knew you would tease him later about this.
“You’re thinking about Mama, aren’t you?” Your eldest asked with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, catching him off guard.
“What makes you say that?” He blinked at her. That slyness? Maybe she took after him more than he'd realised.
She shrugged with all the wisdom of a seven year old who’s already figured out her father. “You always get that look on your face when you’re missing her.”
Sukuna shook his head, “Well, your Mama makes this look easy.” He went back to inspecting his youngest’s head knowing deep down it was far from the flawless work you would’ve done, “Okay, princess. You’re good to go.” She beamed at him and hopped off the stool, happily oblivious to the way the ribbon had already started slipping.
As soon as she scampered off to grab her stuffed bear, he turned his attention to his eldest again, who was quirking her eyebrow and looking every bit like you.
“Listen, kid. Don’t think you’re getting out of this,” he pointed at the stool while giving her a playful glare, “Your turn.”
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a/n: holding all of your hands during these trying times. this has been sitting in my draft since august so im glad it's finally out huehue
© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform
dividers by @/adornedwithlight
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changetyre · 3 days
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Broken ⒾⓈⓌ
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SUMMARY: You and Max are having trouble trying to grow your family and your daughters are affected by it. Part of the Verstappen Family Verse
WARNINGS: Angst, miscommunication, pregnancy issues, a smidge of smut at the end.
A/N: This was requested over on Wattpad. Despite the angst, this is one of my favorite parts of this series.
Max stretched out, his back feeling painful after carrying all the presents he'd bought up from the parking lot before stashing them in a high cupboard in the house where he was sure nobody would look. It was late and he'd spent most of the day out looking for gifts, although truly it was also an excuse to get some space since the environment at home wasn't the best right now. 
The house was quiet when he arrived, a good indicator the girls were already asleep in their room and you as well probably. Although only a few months ago there wouldn't be a day you wouldn't wait for Max before going to bed, physically unable to go to sleep without hearing his voice but lately things had changed and you and Max often went to bed without exchanging any words at all. 
Once he finally made his way to your bedroom he wasn't surprised to find you were in fact asleep, clothes scattered around the room which you also hadn't bothered to clean up. Max sighed, he was tired having not really had a day of relaxation since the season ended despite imagining he'd spend his winter holidays differently, that things would somehow get better. 
He proceeded to pick up the room a little bit making it a little more presentable before taking a quick shower and joining you in bed. While his skin screamed to feel yours Max didn't feel comfortable enough to do so anymore, not knowing how you'd react to him placing an arm around you like he had done every night since you'd gotten together..until a few months ago. 
The next morning Max woke up to find you'd woken up but stayed laying there simply staring up at the ceiling, he knew your mind was spiraling but truly didn't want to ask anymore knowing you'd shut him out.  
"Hey," Max asked. His voice almost felt too loud for the silence. 
"Hi." Your voice was barely above a whisper, the sound almost strange to him not used to hearing it often anymore. 
"How d'you sleep?" Max asked. 
"I'm gonna go make breakfast for the girls." you ignored his question avoiding eye contact as you left the room leaving no more space for conversation. 
Once Max got himself ready for the day he went out to join you for breakfast finding you'd already eaten and were in the process of washing the dishes. He'd be lying if he said this didn't hurt him but held back from saying anything not wanting to start an argument. 
The rest of the day was mostly spent in silence apart from the laughter and ruckus from your children there were no words exchanged between you and Max. At some point, Max left the house once more wanting space. 
"Mama," Ivy called you as you played with both your daughters in the balcony. 
"Yeah, baby." Your daughters naturally made you smile, probably the only time you showed any sort of emotion lately. 
"Do you and Papa not love each other anymore?" She asked. 
Your heart skipped a beat, the immediate urge to cry reaching your throat and you only hoped your eyes gave no indication to the sudden burst of emotion. You noticed the way Lea's smile also dropped at the question, her attention ready to hear your answer. 
"Uhm, of course we do baby why would you think that?" You asked hoping your shaky voice didn't worry your daughters. 
"Papa doesn't blink at you anymore...like dis mama." Ivy showed you by blinking her eyes hard three times just like her father used to do to you almost daily before. 
The reminder of this almost broke you, you began picking up the girl's toys making sure they weren't able to see your face properly as you began crying. "You don't have to worry girls, everythings okay with Papa and me." You lied to your daughters, and it was evident by the weakness of your voice but you weren't sure what else to say. 
"Mama, are you okay?" Lea asked this time, her voice filled with concern, she was growing up, she of course noticed things, possibly understood things a little more than her sister and you knew you were hurting her, hurting them both and thought of this killed you inside. 
"I'm fine Lea, why don't you take your sister to your room and watch a movie, I'm gonna shower." You tried your best to force a smile wiping your eyes with the back of your hand before facing your older daughter. 
Lea simply nodded not wanting to cause you more distress before taking Ivy's hand and guiding her away. Once they were gone you let yourself cry it out. 
Trying and failing to conceive another child had been more emotionally draining than you had ever imagined it would be. You and Max had tried, tried, and tired to the point making love to him wasn't exciting anymore, it was frustrating, full of desperation, and so eventually, you stopped. You stopped trying, stopped connecting, stopped loving.  
Silence seemed like the easiest solution, not willing to face the reality of it all. Drowning in your own thoughts was exhausting but it seemed like the better option since potentially hearing the way you let down your partner, your family was worse. 
But it was obvious now, it was obvious how much this was already hurting your family so you had to toughen up now, muster enough strength to talk to Max, talk to your husband, and face whatever was next for you, whether good or bad it had to better than letting your daughters see the way things were falling apart between you. 
___________
Max once again came home to silence, he could hear the TV on in the girl's room and he didn't want to go to his room so instead decided to try to wrap up the presents in secret while he had the time. 
Max was semi-successful, his daughters had walked out of their room and been insistent on wanting to know what Max was doing despite him telling them several times to go back to their rooms and his patience was wearing thin. 
He was only able to get them to stay in their rooms after promising them a play date with their uncle Lando on the weekend if they behaved. Finally knowing they would stay in their rooms Max took the time to try to hide the gifts again so he could put them under the tree by the end of the month. 
He'd headed to the bathroom and when he came back anger and frustration flooded him at seeing Lea helping Ivy up to the counter to try to open the cupboard where he'd stashed the gifts. 
"LEA!" Max yelled letting his emotions control him for the first time with his daughters. 
Lea and Ivy both gasped and Max ran to catch Ivy who almost slipped off the counter trying to get down quickly. 
"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING! WERE YOU EVEN THINKING!? YOUR SISTER COULD'VE GOTTEN HURT!" Max yelled at his older daughter. 
You heard the commotion from the room running out to check on the situation. "I WANT YOU BOTH IN YOUR ROOMS, NO TV, NO GAMES, GO STRAIGHT TO BED!" Max continued yelling. 
Both Ivy and Lea were in tears at seeing their dad so angry for the first time in their lives, running straight to their rooms. 
"Max calm down." Your heart broke, you knew Max was never like this with your daughters and it scared you to see this side of him come out, feeling partly guilty for it. 
"Oh wow...so now you decide to talk to me." Max scoffed pushing past you and into your room. 
Your heart broke at the action, but he was right. You knew he needed time to cool off so you headed to your daughter's room to check on them. 
Opening the door you had to try to hold back your own tears at the sight. Lea held Ivy in her arms as they both sobbed. You couldn't say anything to afraid to burst into tears so instead sat by your daughter's bed and hugged them both. 
"I-I-I'm so-so-sorry-ma-ma." Lea hiccuped not being able to catch her own breath at how much she cried. 
This time you felt a few tears run down your cheeks. "Hey baby it's okay." You took her face in your hands trying to soothe her. "Lea honey it's okay." You blew gently on your daughter's face trying to calm her down. 
"Pa-pa's- ang-angr-angry." she continued hiccuping. 
"I know darling he shouldn't have yelled like that baby. He loves you so much, we both do." You reminded her kissing her forehead. 
Eventually, Ivy had fallen asleep crying on her sister's lap so you picked her up and moved her to her bed tucking her in. You then went back to your older daughter who was having a little bit of a harder time settling down. 
"Lea listen sometimes people get angry at other things and they feel so angry for a long time that when something else happens they just blow up and scream." You tried your best to explain to your daughter. 
"Like papa?" She asked. 
"Yeah like Papa Baby, Papa's feeling a lot of things because of something else and unfortunately he just took it out on you." You revealed. 
Little did you know Max was listening from outside, after cooling off a little he felt bad and meant to go apologize to his daughters but stopped once he heard you inside with them. 
"But why?" Lea asked. "Why is papa angry mama?" Lea was almost 6, you knew she was starting to get a better grasp of things and you also knew being honest with her would be the best thing for her right now so after thinking about it for a few seconds you decided to just be honest with her. 
"Do you remember on Ivy's 2nd birthday when she wished for a brother?" You asked your daughter. 
"Yeah," Lea replied moving her head to look up at you. 
"Well your Papa and I after that, after talking a lot tried to make another baby..."Your voice broke. 
Max's heart broke at hearing you struggle to speak. 
"Well, we tried for a long time and Mama just couldn't get another baby in her tummy which made both Mama and Papa really really sad." You revealed. 
"Why won't the baby go in your tummy mama?" Lea asked innocently, reaching for her little hand to wipe some tears off your cheek. 
"I don't know baby, maybe mommy's broken." You were full-on crying but you could see your daughter's understanding eyes at the situation. 
"Is that why Papa doesn't say I love you with his eyes anymore?" Lea asked again, oblivious to the impact her question had on her parents. Max fell to his knees outside the room distraught at the guilt he could hear in your voice, and about the fact that his daughters and possibly you thought he didn't love you anymore. 
"I don't know honey...maybe. It's not easy when you want something really really bad and you just can't get it so it can make you feel a lot of things, mommy feels like it's her fault that the baby doesn't want to go in her tummy." You tried to finish explaining. 
"I'm sorry Mama." Lea apologized once more. "But even if you are broken mama I'll still love you the same, I'll even say it with my eyes if you want." Lea smiled imitating her dad by blinking her eyes I love you just like her dad used to do. 
This time your tears were of gratitude at feeling the love your daughter had for you, the simplicity with which her mind understood the situation and tried to make you feel better. "Thank you, baby." You hugged your daughter placing kisses on her cheek.��
Lea settled enough, feeling a little better at understanding why things had been a little weird at home lately. You watched her fall asleep. You took a deep breath ready to have a difficult conversation with your husband praying it might go a little similar to the conversation you had with your daughter. 
You walked out of their room and were surprised to find Max sitting outside, his back to the wall with his face in his hands. You could tell he'd been crying from the wet spots on his shirt and trousers. 
"Maxy." You fell to your knees beside him. 
Max pulled his hands away as you both wrapped your arms around each other at the same time. You both started crying in each other's arms, Max holding you tightly against him. 
"You're not broken, I never thought so either I just wanted you to talk to me." He whispered. "I love you so much and I'm sorry I ever let you doubt it, and I'm sorry for screaming at Ivy and Lea, I'm just- I'm so sorry for everything" Max cried tucking his face in the crook of your neck.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry I felt so useless and frustrated I couldn't get pregnant. I know how long you've been trying to hold it together for us, for all of us and I shouldn't have ever let you carry all of it on your own. I'm sorry too for everything."  You also apologized. "I love you, Max, I don't think I'll ever be able to stop loving you I just wanted to give us another baby." 
"I know." Max sighed pulling back and wiping tears from under your eyes with his thumbs. "Look I would love to have another baby with you, I'd have a 100 if it was with you but I'm so enamored by the family you've given me already, our girls...they're the best thing that have ever happened to me and if trying to have another baby is gonna cost us...us...than I don't want it." Max was honest. 
You nodded agreeing with his words. 
"It doesn't mean we stop trying, we can if that's what you want but I just want you back first, I need us to be okay before trying again okay?" He asked you. 
"Yeah." You agreed once more. 
Max rested his forehead against yours. You heard him take a deep breath. "God I missed you." he sighed before leaning down to place his lips against yours. 
You kissed him back harshly almost desperate to taste him again mentally questioning yourself how you were able to survive without this for as long as you did. "I love you," you whispered as you momentarily pulled away to catch your breath. 
But Max kept kissing you not wanting for this to stop, as if his body was trying to catch up on all the time he spent without your touch. "I love you." He whispered back scooping you into his lap, your legs wrapping around him as he stood up with you in his arms before taking you to your bedroom. 
Laying you down on your shared bed it once again felt right, being shared with him. Max was quick to get you naked, teasing you as he prepared you for him.
"I adore you." He whispered as he slipped into you. You'd be okay.
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How Old? (LH44) [Blind Items AU]
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(Part 7 in the Blind Items AU [can be read separately]) Summary: A driver, unknown to the public, seems to have found himself a younger girlfriend. There isn't anything morally (nor legally) wrong with the relationship, and the pair are doing quite well in their private bliss, but the internet likes to insert itself in other's business. Luckily, Lewis is doing too good to care about what the internet has to say.
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‘Young, dumb, impressionable girls who don’t know any better’. Lewis laughed at the thought. 
He had met his girlfriend 3 years ago when she was 24, because no, she wasn’t 25. They had immediately clicked, being introduced by a mutual friend. His girl had just finished getting her PhD in child psychology, because she was far from a ‘dumb girl’. She had accelerated in her schooling from the time she started school. She worked with special programs to continuously learn at her level, not her age level. The party they met at was her graduation party that Lewis’ friend had invited him to, thinking the two would go well together.
Lewis would be lying if he said her age wasn’t something he considered when they both began to like each other. But it was more so that they were in very different stages career-wise. She was in a transitional period from school to practicing, and with the upcoming move to Ferrari, Lewis didn't know what his future looked like. How could they make a relationship work when their careers were their highest priority?
So they didn’t date, remaining ‘friends’ and seeing each other whenever possible. 
That was until around a year after they met.
One night, after Lewis had been having one of the best racing seasons in a while, and after she had been succeeding in her clinical trials, proving just how much this was the perfect path for her, Lewis came over to celebrate. 
Tensions had been building up since they had agreed to keep it friendly because they simply couldn’t commit to a relationship right now. That night though, it reached its peak.
Neither had been drinking, drunk purely on lust. After two hours of dinner and good conversation, one experimental kiss led to another, which led to a longer kiss, then full on making out, until the two were in a frenzy of trying to take the others’ clothes off as fast as humanly possible. 
That night then led to a weird period for the two. They cared for each other deeply, talked like a couple, acted like a couple, but when asked by friends on the status of their relationship, it was simply a friendship with ‘hot and passionate’ sex on the side. 
Nothing more, even though they both wanted so much more. But they refused to talk about committing again. 
That was till she found out she was pregnant. 
They had been careful, condoms and birth control, but it was just some freak accident, or a blessing.
She couldn’t tell Lewis for about a month, as he was on a triple header in F1 which thankfully ended in summer break. 
By then, she had enough time to sit and think about what she wanted. It wouldn’t be easy, both their careers are demanding. If it was anyone but him, she would have had way more doubt in her partner’s ability to balance both, but she had no doubt Lewis would be anything but an amazing father. 
She was about 9 weeks when she saw him again. They had made plans to go on vacation for a week during the break (supposedly as friends, even though Lewis had booked them a honeymoon suite), so she knew she had to ask right away, before they went on vacation. The last thing she needed was things going wrong and being stuck in the South of France, pregnant, with a man who didn’t want to be a father.
“I’m pregnant.” She blurted out the moment she opened the door. 
They both stared at each other wide eyed. She hadn’t meant to say it straight away. 
Instead of clarifying, she immediately turned around and went to the kitchen. Lewis reluctantly followed, confused as to if she wanted to talk to him at the moment. 
She refused to look at him, busying herself with getting plates and utensils for the takeout Lewis had picked up.
“Are we- are we going to talk about it?” He asked. She turned around to finally look at him, seeing as he slowly walked towards her with his hands in the air.
“God, Lewis, I am pregnant, not a kicked puppy, I'm not going to bite if you come near me.” He quickly put his hands down. 
Silence fell as they both looked at each other, wishing the other one would talk first. When that didn’t happen, they both gave in, speaking over each other. “No- sorry you first.” He said.
“No, no its okay you can go.”
Once again they were both silent, til they both chose the exact same time to speak. It was thankfully what the situation needed. They laughed, immediately severing the tension and awkwardness in the room. 
As they finally calmed down, Lewis said, “So… what are we going to do?”
No ‘what are you going to do’, no immediate shut down. She was once again grateful that out of all people in the world, it was Lewis who was by her side.
“Its… hard and most would say it is not the right time for either of us. But I want to be a mother, and I want to do so now.” 
“Okay, do you still need time to think or-”
“No, no- I have had a month to think and my decision hasn’t changed since the moment I found out.” 
Now was the most stressful part, waiting for what he would say, how he would react.
“Then we can make this work, we can find a way around any complications. There is no one I’d rather do this with, honey.” 
The two of them sat in silence, but it was a comfortable silence, both envisioning the future they were going to work for, a future they were going to achieve no matter what. 
That had been almost two years ago, and they had been happy and in love ever since. Even more so when their healthy baby girl was born. 
A content smile covered Lewis’ face as his girlfriend walked in, holding their daughter. 
“What’s got you so happy?” 
“Just my two wonderful girls.” He responded.
She rolled her eyes, “Such a sap you old man. Will you please come help me build the chair for the baby’s room now?”
Happy to oblige, Lewis shut his phone and got up to help his girlfriend, completely forgetting about what the internet had to say about his private life.
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Toy Salesman! Childe x Partner! Reader
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your husband is a travelling toy salesman, but is he really just a travelling salesman?
A toy salesman who played a balalaika arrived at your village and quickly became the talk of the town. Not only did he have handsome looks but he was charming too, parents also commented that his toys seemed to be of good quality so they approved of him.
You met him when your little brother wouldn't shut up about wanting a new toy, so your parents told you to accompany him to the toy salesman. As soon as you laid eyes on him, he was the prettiest man you have ever seen... You found his red-tinted nose from the cold cute too.
A little flirty too... But... it turns out it was only towards you.
The short fling didn't last long as he had to leave the village for another one. You thought that was the last time you'd ever have anything close to love but you were wrong. As he came back... and back again... again... again... again...! Soon, your relationship that was just a fling turned into... being a couple!
"Childe!" you smiled as you ran up to him, he opened his arms as he wore that charming smile on his face. You jumped right into his arms as he held you tight, spinning you around a little out of excitement. "You're back... I missed you..." you mumbled as you buried your face in his neck.
He let out a small laugh, "Yeah... It's really great to be back to you." he slowly placed you down and kissed the top of your head. "Come on! My brother was waiting for you... My mother also cooked some soup for us!" you told him but he grabbed your hand, stopping you. You turned to him, confused.
But your eyes widened when he slowly showed a gold ring, before he could even say a thing, you just hugged him and kept chanting 'Yes!'.
The wedding was simple, it was held in the town square. You were surrounded by family, friends, and neighbors during your special day which made you happy but... Leaving them for another town did hurt a little.
"Are you sure? Why can't you both just settle here?" your mother asked. "Well... Childe's work requires him to go from town to town so we decided it'd be best to just move somewhere that can help him with his job." you replied. Your father sighed, "I... still don't really understand what you see in him. He isn't rich, and I fear for your future as he's just a mere toy maker." he commented, your mother smacked his arm.
"Dear, if you ever feel lonely or if anything happens, you can always come back here. You're always welcome back here in the village, alright? Don't hesitate to ask for our help." your mother told you to which you nodded.
You said your final goodbyes and soon set off with Childe to a bigger town with bigger opportunities. When you arrived at your supposed new home, you were surprised! It was huge! You asked how he was even able to afford it to which he just laughed off and said that he saved up.
Things were going great between the two of you, you were starting to adjust to your life there but... Something seemed off... Like Childe was hiding something... It's just... Suspicious how much money he spends to spoil you... Could he really earn that much money as a toy salesman?
Of course, you were grateful, but at the same time it... was suspicious...
Childe seemed to notice you were deep in thought, "Is there something wrong Y/n?" he asked, hands wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer to him. The two of you were in bed making it a little harder to try to avoid his question.
You hummed in response. "Really?? It seems like you're mad at me... you avoided my kiss this morning." He told you to which you let out a small laugh, "I just got embarrassed because of my morning breath, I just woke up at that time." You replied. It wasn't really a lie... you hated giving kisses when you still hadn't freshened up in the morning but at the same time, you had your suspicions that you didn't really know the full truth of his job.
He didn't say another word and only just hummed in response. You then closed your eyes, thinking that was the end of it only to get jumpscared when he starts leaving wet kisses on your neck.
Safe to say the two of you got intimate that night as you folded so quickly, under zero pressure too. You cursed at yourself in the morning though as you were too sore to even try to investigate what your husband could be doing behind your back.
The following day, you decided to go to the snowy forest, you just chose to distract yourself from any useless thoughts. You were looking for snowberries to make a lotion with. "Hmm... I should give Childe a lot of it... His hands are rough and calloused after all." you mumbled. You soon notice a familiar figure, that build... That structure... That height... Hair... Oh my god...? "Childe!" You shouted his name.
He turned to you, his facial expression looked like he was glaring at you for a second before switching to a smile. "My love! What brings you here?" He asked. Weird, he's not one to call you pet names. "I thought you were supposed to be in another town, what are YOU doing here?" you asked as you looked around.
"Where's your toy st-" he cut you off. "That's not important. Look... How about we just head home, hm?" he asked as he gave you a smile. Weird... Very weird... His smile didn't make your heart skip. Instead, it left a shiver down your spine...
"Al... Alright..." you mumbled as he started heading towards the town, you followed him from behind. Your gut tells you something is very wrong... But you just can't put your finger to i-
Wait... He doesn't have his toy stand... he usually has that... Plus why would he be in a forest- Oh... Oh...!
"Childe... Have you... Thought of something to do on our anniversary for tomorrow yet?" you asked. "Hm? That? Hmm... Maybe we should go to the town for a date." he responded. Your anniversary was months away.
You stopped on your tracks, who the fuck was this man? You knew damn well Childe would never ever forget your anniversary, that... that... weird feeling in your gut... it was... Telling you to run.
So there you go, you fucking booked it. You turned your heel around and started running away from it. It was hard to run away in your heavy clothes, you felt like you were being suffocated or you were running out of air from how much you panted.
It quickly noticed you running away but you didn't dare turn back to see how far away it was from you. That was NOT your husband, that was an imposter... If so then... Where is Childe now?? Is he dead?? What the absolute fuck is happening!?!
You could hear a loud rustle of feathers behind you, why would it sound like fathers...? God it just confused you even mo- "AAAAAAHHHH....!!!!" You let out a loud scream as the creature seemed to have flown in front of you. You abruptly stopped running, causing you to fall down, butt first in the snow.
You couldn't even describe what the fuck you were looking at right now... It looked like a crow but... Big...??? It was frightening... And that... Fucking eyes... It sent a shiver down your spine.
"Ah... How did you even know? It was a perfect disguise..." It spoke as you only trembled in fear, slowly backing away. Is this how you die...?? On the hands of a monster, you don't even know about...? It slowly approached you...
You whimpered in fear as you quickly started backing away, your body froze when your back hit a tree. Was this really how you die?? Without knowing whether your husband is dead or alive?? Oh god... What happens after it kills you?? Will it kill other people in the town too?? What will it do to you?? Is it going to eat you alive or just kill you firs-
*Thud*
You watched the creature's head fall to the ground. Your lower lip trembled as your body felt pure relief when you saw Childe holding some sort of weapon. The head opened its mouth but Childe just crushed it. Childe had an indifferent look on his face, his eyes looked lifeless but...
He looks up at you, his eyes having a gentle gaze. "Y/n..." he rushed to you as he wrapped you around his arms, you held him tight as you sobbed. "Hey... It's okay now, I'm here..." he reassured you.
You didn't know the full truth of his job, but it might be better to not know more. All you knew was that Childe would never bring harm to you.
216 notes · View notes
rafedarling · 20 hours
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𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠
pairing: dad!drew starkey x mom!reader
summary: your 4-year-old son, rustyn, has decided that he needs a sibling—and he’s not shy about telling everyone. from grandparents to cartoons, rustyn finds a way to make his wish known, much to the amusement of you and drew.
warning(s): english is not my native language. pure fluff, toddler curiosity, family humor, and loving reflections on parenthood.
au: like, reblog and feedbacks are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rafeyslamb @tracymbcm @enjoymyloves @akobx @rubixgsworld @xoxohoneymoongirl @mileyraes @maybankslover @noobmazter69 @littlelamy @wearemadeofstardust0 @xoxosblogsblog @saviorcomplexrry @bisexualcvnt @stuffyownswrld @anamiad00msday @httpsdrewstarkey
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It was the kind of peaceful morning that felt like a small luxury—quiet, warm, and full of simple, slow moments. Drew was seated next to you, scrolling through his phone with a relaxed expression, while your 4-year-old son, Rustyn, was already up and playing in the living room.
The sound of toy trucks rolling across the floor accompanied Rustyn’s imaginative play as he created stories for his toys, his little voice full of excitement. You smiled to yourself, feeling your heart swell at the simple joy of hearing him play. Life had become so much sweeter since Rustyn had arrived—a bundle of curiosity, energy, and love wrapped into one tiny human. You and Drew often marveled at how quickly Rustyn seemed to grow, learning new things each day and filling your home with laughter.
The peace of the morning, however, was soon interrupted as Rustyn toddled into the kitchen, clutching his favorite stuffed bear in one hand and dragging it behind him. His expression was serious, a little too serious for a 4-year-old, and it instantly caught your attention.
Climbing up onto Drew’s lap with determination, Rustyn placed his tiny hands on his father’s chest, his wide blue eyes staring intently up at him. “Dada,” Rustyn said, his voice laced with that innocent curiosity that always made your heart melt.
Drew blinked, setting his phone down and wrapping his arms around Rustyn. “What’s up, buddy?” he asked, smiling as he brushed a hand through Rustyn’s messy morning hair.
Rustyn shifted slightly, adjusting his grip on Drew’s shirt as if he had something very important to say. His voice was sweet but serious as he finally spoke again. “Dada, can I have a baby?”
Both you and Drew froze for a moment, your eyes widening as you processed the unexpected request. You had expected him to ask for another story or maybe breakfast, but a baby?
You exchanged a quick glance with Drew, both of you barely containing your laughter. Rustyn, however, remained completely serious, his innocent eyes blinking up at his dad, waiting for an answer.
“A baby?” Drew repeated, trying to hide his amusement. “You mean like a baby doll, Rusty?”
Rustyn shook his head quickly, his little brow furrowing in frustration. “No, Dada,” he said with the kind of determination only a toddler could muster. “I want a real baby. A baby brother or a baby sister.”
You nearly choked on your coffee, coughing lightly as you set your mug down and stared at Drew in disbelief. Drew, still holding Rustyn, raised his eyebrows in surprise, clearly caught off guard.
“Buddy,” Drew began, trying to navigate the situation delicately, “that’s… well, that’s not something we can just get right away.”
Rustyn looked confused, his big eyes darting between you and Drew. “Why not?” he asked, as if the concept of not being able to have a baby immediately was beyond comprehension.
You bit your lip, trying not to laugh at how earnest Rustyn sounded. It was clear that he had no idea how big of an ask this was. And yet, his innocence made the situation all the more adorable.
Drew glanced at you, his eyes pleading for backup. You took a deep breath, deciding to step in and explain.
“Well, sweetie,” you began, leaning forward slightly to meet Rustyn’s gaze, “babies take time. They don’t just show up like toys or presents. It’s something Mommy and Daddy have to decide together, and then we have to wait.”
Rustyn’s expression softened slightly, but the determined look didn’t leave his face. “But I want one now,” he said, his voice filled with the kind of pure, heartfelt longing that made you want to scoop him up and promise him the world.
Drew chuckled softly, bouncing Rustyn gently on his lap. “I get that, bud,” he said, his tone affectionate but firm. “But like Mommy said, babies take time.”
Rustyn pouted, his tiny lips forming a small frown as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t wanna wait,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
You exchanged another glance with Drew, both of you clearly realizing that this was only the beginning of the conversation. Rustyn wasn’t the type to let things go easily, especially when he set his heart on something. And from the look on his face, it was clear that Rustyn had already decided that having a sibling was at the top of his list.
Drew sighed softly, leaning down to kiss the top of Rustyn’s head. “How about we talk about this later, okay? Let’s get through today first.”
Rustyn nodded reluctantly, though it was obvious he wasn’t fully convinced. He slid off Drew’s lap and padded back into the living room, but not before turning back to you both with one last, pleading look.
“I really want a baby,” he said again, his voice full of hope.
You smiled, feeling your heart melt at his innocence. “We’ll think about it, baby,” you promised, knowing that this was going to be a long conversation.
As the days passed, Rustyn’s request for a sibling didn’t fade. In fact, it became a constant part of your conversations—at the breakfast table, during bedtime stories, and even when you were out running errands. It seemed like everywhere Rustyn went, he found a way to bring up babies.
One day, while you were grocery shopping together, Rustyn spotted a woman pushing a stroller with a newborn inside. His eyes lit up instantly, and before you could stop him, he was tugging on your hand and pointing eagerly at the stroller.
“Mommy, look! A baby!” Rustyn exclaimed, his voice full of excitement. “Can we get one too?”
You laughed softly, gently guiding him away from the woman and her baby, who thankfully hadn’t heard him. “Rustyn, sweetie, we’ve talked about this,” you reminded him. “Babies don’t just show up like that.”
Rustyn’s face scrunched up in frustration, and he pouted. “But I want one,” he said, his voice filled with longing.
You sighed, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. “I know you do, baby. But you have to be patient.”
Rustyn let out a small, frustrated sigh but nodded, clearly not happy with the answer. “Okay,” he mumbled, though you could tell he was still thinking about it.
The next time Rustyn brought up the topic was during a family dinner at Drew’s parents’ house. You, Drew, Rustyn, and Drew’s parents—Todd and Jodi—were gathered around the table, enjoying a relaxed meal together. The conversation was light, filled with laughter and stories, until Rustyn, who had been playing with his food, suddenly spoke up.
“Gigi?” Rustyn asked, his voice full of curiosity as he turned to Jodi.
Jodi smiled warmly at her grandson, always eager to listen to whatever was on his mind. “Yes, sweetie?”
“Can I have a baby brother or sister?” Rustyn asked innocently, his wide blue eyes blinking up at her.
The room fell into a stunned silence as everyone processed Rustyn’s question. Todd choked on his water, coughing lightly as he shot you and Drew an amused look. Jodi’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but she quickly recovered, giving Rustyn a sweet smile.
“Well, Rusty, that’s something you’ll have to ask your mommy and daddy about,” Jodi said with a soft chuckle, clearly trying not to laugh.
“I already did,” Rustyn replied earnestly, his little face serious. “But they said I have to wait. I don’t wanna wait, Gigi. I want a baby now.”
Todd let out a loud laugh, clearly enjoying the conversation. “Sounds like someone’s eager to be a big brother, huh?”
Rustyn nodded vigorously, his little face lighting up with excitement. “Yeah! I’ll share my toys and read them stories!”
You and Drew exchanged a look of amusement mixed with slight embarrassment. It was clear that Rustyn wasn’t going to let this go anytime soon, and now he was dragging everyone else into his mission.
“Well, Rusty,” Drew began, his tone gentle but firm, “we’ve talked about this, buddy. Babies take time, remember?”
Rustyn huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he pouted. “But I don’t wanna wait.”
Jodi laughed softly, patting Rustyn’s back. “Patience is a good thing to learn, Rusty,” she said kindly. “You’ll have to trust Mommy and Daddy to know when the time is right.”
Rustyn nodded, though he still didn’t look completely satisfied. “Okay,” he mumbled, clearly frustrated by the lack of immediate results.
Todd chuckled, ruffling Rustyn’s hair. “You’ll make a great big brother one day, kiddo.”
Rustyn’s persistence didn’t stop there. One evening, while the three of you were cuddled up on the couch watching a cartoon, Rustyn spotted a baby character on the screen. His eyes widened with excitement, and he turned to you and Drew, tugging on Drew’s sleeve.
“Dada! Look! A baby!” Rustyn exclaimed, pointing at the TV. “Can we get one like that?”
Drew laughed, shaking his head as he wrapped his arm around Rustyn’s shoulders. “Rusty, we’ve talked about this,” he said, his voice filled with amusement. “Babies don’t work like that.”
“But I want one,” Rustyn pouted, his big blue eyes looking up at Drew with a mix of confusion and determination. “I’ll take care of them, I promise!”
You couldn’t help but laugh softly, leaning in to kiss the top of Rustyn’s head. “Sweetheart, I know you’re excited about the idea of a baby. But you have to be patient, okay? Babies don’t happen right away.”
Rustyn sighed dramatically, his tiny shoulders slumping as he settled back against Drew’s chest. “Okay,” he mumbled, though you could tell he was still thinking about it.
Drew gave you a playful look over Rustyn’s head, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Looks like we’re in trouble here,” he whispered, just loud enough for you to hear.
You grinned, shaking your head. “He’s not going to let this go anytime soon, is he?”
Drew sighed softly, ruffling Rustyn’s hair. “Nope. He’s determined. We might have to start planning.”
Rustyn perked up at the word “planning,” his eyes wide with hope. “Does that mean we’re getting a baby soon, Dada?”
Drew chuckled, pulling Rustyn into a hug. “Maybe, buddy. Maybe one day.”
Rustyn grinned, clearly satisfied with that answer—for now. “Okay! I can’t wait!”
That night, after Rustyn had finally fallen asleep, you and Drew sat together on the couch, reflecting on the day’s events. Drew had his arm around your shoulders, and you leaned against him, both of you laughing softly at how persistent Rustyn had been about wanting a sibling.
“Can you believe how determined he is?” you asked, smiling as you snuggled closer to Drew. “He’s never been this focused on anything before.”
Drew laughed, resting his chin on top of your head. “I know. It’s pretty sweet, though. He just wants someone to share his world with.”
You smiled, nodding as you thought about Rustyn’s pure heart. “He’d make an amazing big brother,” you said softly, your voice filled with affection.
Drew squeezed your hand, his expression softening. “He really would,” he agreed. “And, you know… I wouldn’t mind giving him that one day.”
You looked up at Drew, your heart swelling with love. “One day?”
Drew nodded, his smile warm and full of love. “Yeah. I mean, we’ve got a pretty great thing going here, don’t we?”
You grinned, leaning up to kiss him softly. “We do,” you whispered.
As you sat there in the quiet of the evening, wrapped up in each other’s warmth, you couldn’t help but think about the future—the possibility of growing your family even more. Rustyn’s sweet persistence had sparked something in both of you, and though it might not happen right away, you knew that when the time was right, you’d be ready.
For now, though, you were more than happy to enjoy these moments—the love, the laughter, and the joy of having Rustyn in your life.
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kumkaniudaku · 2 days
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Stay A While (3)
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Summary: Terry get's a lesson in love and shares it with Patrice.
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC
Word Count: 5,049
Part: 3 of ??
Warnings: Smut (18+)
One. Two.
"Well, James, how you been?" 
"Honestly, Pop. I don't know where to start." 
Wooden spoons banged and scraped across pots on the stove while Marvin scooped red beans and rice into a small ceramic bowl. He'd long shed his work coveralls for an open flannel shirt and khakis to spend some quality time with his only son. 
James was their shared middle name in a long line of Richmond men dating back to their family migration from New Orleans to Fayetteville in the 50s. Marvin was a proud, honorable man. He never said a bad word about anybody, and no one had a bad word to say about him. He taught Terry how to play football, make a pot of dirty rice to perfection, and the importance of ensuring a lady never touched a doorhandle in his presence. He was the reason Terry joined the Marine Corps after a career in the NFL looked unlikely. He was the reason his boy spoke softly and carried a big stick. And he was one of only two people Terry trusted with his heart. 
With two bowls and spoons on a serving tray, Marvin made his way to the kitchen table. He stopped short to get a good look at his son with blue green eyes even more captivating than Terry's. He noted the new frown lines developing on his brow and the lone grey hair sprouting in his goatee. His boy was stressed and confused. He didn't need a conversation to tell him that but welcomed it anyway. 
After sliding one bowl across the table, he took a seat with his signature grunt. "Start at the top. Plenty of time still left in the day." 
Terry quietly thanked his father for his generosity and avoided the question by eating the first bite of his meal. They ate in silence for several seconds until Terry took a deep breath. 
"I think I've been okay. More ups than downs lately, but the downs are pretty damn low. I'm having a tough time sleeping. I'm barely working. I feel like a burden for Treece more than I feel like a man who can actually do something for her." 
"Being a man is about more than what you can do." 
"Yeah, but…" Terry trailed off, trying to gather his thoughts. "It's just - things weren't supposed to be this hard. I gave this country a lot of my time, and I guess I expected to say my goodbyes and roll into my next chapter. Now, my plan b needs a plan b, and I'm out of options." 
"You're not out of options. You don't like askin' for help. Proud like your grandaddy." 
"And you too." 
Marvin chuckled and shook his head as he took another spoonful of food.  "This ain't about me."
The two men shared a laugh, their voices sounding nearly identical as they bounced off the walls. He was the spitting image of his father, both in stature and moral compass. 
"What do you need, James?" Marvin had grown serious again, making Terry avert his eyes to focus on his food. "I'll save you the stress of asking, but you gotta tell me what I need to offer. Is it money?"
"Not much. Enough to pay some bills until the end of the month, and I can have it back to you. I think I have a shot at this job on base if I can get through the second interview."
"How you getting back and forth? I know y'all do the Lyft and Ubom thing these days. Ridin' around with strangers like we didn't spend a whole decade tell y'all not to." 
Terry laughed. "It's Uber, Pop. But, no. Treece is out for the summer, so I'm…using her car when I need it. I don't wanna take advantage of her." 
"Those some of the bills you need help paying?" Marvin's question was answered with a silent head nod and eyes filled with shame. He softened his voice as he reached into his wallet for the cash he had on hand. "It's what you're supposed to do. Ain't no shame. That money is for yourself. Give me til tomorrow afternoon to have more. Five grand enough?" 
"Ah, Pop, I don-" 
"We didn't work as hard as we did for nothing. Plus, it's your college fund money we never withdrew. You're lucky your mother hasn't used it for renovations. She's been eyeing your sister's old room for an indoor she-shed or whatever the hell it's called." 
Marvin sounded exasperated by the concept of his wife's latest project, which amused Terry. They hadn't changed since the day he left. They were just two people who had been in love since the day they met and remained committed to supporting each other through the ebbs and flows of life. 
Standing from the kitchen table, Marvin shuffled around the corner to the garage entrance and returned with a ring of keys and a pile of mail. He tossed them at Terry and returned to his seat. 
"What's this?" 
"Keys to GMC outside. Take it. You might need to run it for a little bit and change the oil, but it works fine. The rest is your mail." Terry opened his mouth to protest and received a glare from his father in return. "I gave you my best speech about askin' for help, and here you go ruining things. Take the truck before I tell your mama."
"Alright, alright," Terry laughed as he raised his hands. "I love you, Pop." 
"Love you, man. I'm proud of you." Not ones for the warm fuzzies of hugs, the two extended their arms across the table for a quick fist bump before returning to their meals. Marvin let his son eat in peace for a few moments before the corner of his lips curled in a knowing smile. "So…Patrice Ellis, huh? That little love letter you wrote in 10th grade finally coming true?" 
"Pop." 
"Ah, come on. It's alright to be in love, son. She's a good girl. Got good folks, too. What's the holdup?" 
In love? The more Terry attempted to negotiate the gravity of the phrase within himself, the more he had to reckon with the idea that his father may not be that far off base.
Terry slowed his eating and looked at his father for help. "You think I'm in love?" 
"Oh, I know you are. You didn't come back to Fayetteville for me, did you?" 
"How would I know, though? How did you know?" 
Marvin stopped eating to sit back in his chair. A fond smile crossed his face as he thought of his younger years. 
"I knew I was in love when I wanted to show up every day and do the work to be with her. It didn't matter if she pissed me off or if we disagreed about decisions. At the end of every day, I can look at her and know I'm where I want to be forever. Plus, I still get a little fired up when she walks through the door all these years later. I ain't much to look at, but your mother is…" 
Marvin let his sentence drop to whistle at the mention of his wife. Terry pretended to take exception but eventually laughed at his father's antics. He quickly relaxed into a contemplative state. 
"I wanna be the best I can for her," he spoke softly. "I get…sad when she's gone for too long. Sometimes, I find myself forcing conversation just to make her look at me because the light in her eyes is the only thing keeping me grounded most days. What does that mean?" 
"You don't need me to answer that, son. Go with what you know." 
Before Terry could seek more advice, the mechanical roar of the garage door made Marvin nearly spring out of his seat to greet his one true love. 
Outside, Patrice was nearly doubled over from laughter in the front seat. 
Diedra "DeeDee" Richmond was the quintessential Southern black woman. Like a prim and proper belle, she wore her color-treated blonde hair big to match an even bigger personality.  She wore heels with every outfit and never left the house without earrings, but she could also drink and cuss like a sailor. 
When she offered Patrice the chance to tag along for her monthly Sister Circle meeting, there was no chance she'd miss the opportunity to ditch Terry and kick it with the upper crust of Black women. 
"And, girl, Rita thinks we can't tell that she took every one of those appetizers out of the damn freezer section. At least go to the Publix bakery. Finger sandwiches ain't that expensive." 
Amid their gossip session, the garage door's chime caught Dee Dee's attention, effectively ending her one-woman show in favor of giving her husband the eye. Behind him, Terry stood with a nervous smile and puppy dog eyes that he directed at Patrice. 
"Marry a Richmond, child. You'll never lift a finger for the rest of your life. Lord knows I love me some him. Hey, baby!" DeeDee advised as she watched Marvin nearly float to the driver's side to open her door. 
Patrice watched Marvin and DeeDee fawn over each other like teenage lovers until the faint pop of her door opening brought her back to life. 
Terry stood in the gap with his hand out to offer assistance. She accepted without protest, letting him gently pull her from the passenger side with her bags in tow and close the door behind her.
"I missed you." 
Terry's admission came in a sweet voice as he dipped his head to place two chaste kisses on Patrice's lips. Only the knowledge of his parents 10 feet away kept her from turning an innocent display of affection into something vulgar. 
Patrice chased his lips once he pulled away, earning a deep chuckle that vibrated her chest. 
"We kissing in front of the parents now?" 
"Too much," he asked, suddenly embarrassed. 
She used her thumb to wipe lip gloss from his bottom lip before rising to her tip toes to kiss his nose. "No. You're perfect." 
Dee Dee and Marvin watched the young couple giggle at nothing in particular with broad smiles and full hearts. 
"Treece, when's the last time you had some of my red beans and rice?" 
Marvin's question made both of them jump like children caught in the act with the realization that they weren't alone. 
"Way too long," Patrice answered, her stomach almost growling at the mention. 
"Then have dinner with us. We'd love to have you." 
Patrice looked toward Terry for confirmation, making Dee Dee cackle as she started up the stairs into her home. "Child, forget him. Terrence don't run nothing 'round here! Come get this food."
Terry's eyes grew wide at his mother's dismissal while Patrice dissolved into an uncontrollable fit of laughter at his expense on her way into the house. 
"Oh, that's funny," he asked, following her lead. "That's the last time I let y'all hang out unsupervised." 
Three extra hours at Terry's parents' house wasn't enough for the tandem to abandon their new night routine. 
Patrice stood at her bathroom sink, scrubbing the day from her face while Terry made himself comfortable on her closed toilet lid. Sometimes, he read something from Patrice's bookshelf, both preferring to simply exist in the same room. Other times, he watched baseball on his phone and attempted to provide color commentary despite Patrice not showing interest. This time, though, he sat with relaxed shoulders and low eyes while she moved through her beauty routine. 
Something about the sleepytime body wash had him laser-focused on how her legs looked a mile long beneath her nightshirt, oiled to perfection and glistening under the warm vanity lights. He wanted to reach out and touch her. Maybe pull her closer by her thighs and whisper every single nasty thought on his mind below her navel until she promised never to leave his side. 
But, he shook his inner man loose and leaned forward to re-engage with her as she called his name. 
"You know you should use a gentle exfoliant every once in a while. It'll help your breakouts. Use some of my sunscreen, too. It's dangerous for you to let the sun hit your face with no protection."
Blah, blah, blah. Everything she said sounded like a chorus of 1000 angels to him. She could've revealed the cure to cancer, and he would be too lovestruck to notice. 
Knowing his restraint was dwindling, he stood abruptly and stretched his arms above his head with a yawn as she added moisturizer to her face.
Patrice watched him take up space behind her through the mirror, shifting so he could leave something to remember him by on her shoulder and neck. 
"Good night," he spoke between kisses, the words muffled against her skin. 
"Already? It's not that late, is it?" 
"I promised Corey I'd help him with football practice at Francis tomorrow morning."
"He'll run you ragged if you don't speak up." 
"I'll speak up. I promise." 
Using what little space she had, Patrice turned to rest her backside on the counter and face Terry. She used her index finger to hook his gold herringbone chain and bring him down for a kiss. Or kisses. It'd been so long since they could have each other in this way. Time and experience, both together and separately, had them maneuvering like professionals. Each kiss was teasing and sensual in equal measure. A tangible mastery of retreating and aggression made the pursuit of one another worth the wait. 
They'd lost track of their exhibition until Terry's phone buzzing against the toilet seat jolted them back into reality.
Patrice flattened her palms against his chest to create some separation and end what would surely turn into blurred lines if they weren't careful. "Good night, TJ.  Grab that exfoliant out of my shower before you leave. It's in the caddie." 
Terry took the gentle redirection in stride, smiling at her through the mirror before turning to do as she had asked. Patrice used what little focus she could muster to secure her headscarf to her head, desperate to extend her box braids for one more week. 
"What's this?" 
"What's what?" She didn't bother to look away from her task until the low hum of her vibrator caught her attention. She whipped her body around, too stunned to reach for the bright pink toy that had Terry smirking as he examined its buttons. "That is my personal property for personal and private use." 
"When's the last time you used it?" 
"It's been a while. A month or so." Mostly true. She couldn't say she hadn't thought about it more recently.
"Since I've been here?" 
She shrugged. "Kinda hard to get comfortable when there's a person on the other side of the wall." 
The mere sound of the only thing to touch her in two years made the hair on her arms stand at attention. Her eyes darted between the toy and Terry, who made himself familiar with each speed and pattern, cycling through dirty thoughts and intrigue as he held the device against his arm to get a feel for the intensity, 
Setting one? Bearable. A softball. Setting three? Maybe she'd call out his name from the pleasure? Setting seven? Surely, she'd hang on to him like a wet t-shirt on a Playboy model while she rode the crest of her orgasm. 
The possibilities excited him to no end. He needed to test each and every theory.
In two clicks, he returned the toy to its original setting and then off completely, holding it in one hand while taking slow steps to close the gap between him and the only person on his mind. 
She shifted her weight nervously as he approached, unsure how to respond until he towered over her with a look she knew all too well. 
Desire. 
Their senses were heightened. Everything felt surreal, almost as if one misstep could send them flying through a portal back to a more disappointing reality. 
Terry could smell the faint hint of mint on Patrice's breath before dipping his head to nip at her bottom lip with his teeth. She responded like he knew she would by making him work for his prize. Patrice never let him intimidate her. Not for their first time together all those years ago, certainly not now. 
He chuckled before leaning in again, this time leaving a trail of short kisses from her jaw to her clavicle. He inhaled deeply, breathing in vanilla and the subtle spice of his cologne from moments earlier.
Suddenly, Patrice felt weightless. Her feet dangled briefly and without warning as Terry took her from standing to sitting on the cold, hard counter before she could protest. 
Patrice fought for stability, using the peaks and valleys across the expanse of his muscled arms as her anchor in the dizzying experience that was his affection. Her lips parted to draw in sharp breaths and release airy sighs of approval in a feeble attempt to remain present. At the same time, he kissed his appreciation wherever his lips saw fit. Her legs acted under their own power to spread wider and make room for whatever came next. 
Her hands left a trail of tingles as she dragged them from his arms to the back of his head, down the sides of his face, over his tank top, between his pecs, and, finally, into the waistband of his shorts. 
Surprised by her touch, he lurched forward to grab her wrist. "Not this time," he whispered, unsure he meant what he was saying. 
Patrice nodded in understanding, earning a sloppy kiss for her obedience. 
There was no discerning where his mouth ended, and hers began. They were on one accord, hungrily tasting, exploring, and consuming each other without holding back. 
Then, the low hum returned. This time, it was closer than Patrice remembered. 
Cold silicone soon caressed her inner thigh. A low whimper escaped past her lips as she made eye contact with Terry. He leaned close enough to speak against her mouth. 
"You trust me?" 
"Mhmm," she answered, fighting to keep her eyes open as he moved further up her leg. 
"Let me take care of you, then. Take these off for me." 
Trembling fingers latched onto her boyshorts, pushing them to mid-thigh for Terry to take care of the rest. As quickly as he was gone, he'd returned for another taste of her tongue. Languid and unhurried, he used the time to relax her while slowly inching the vibrator to her center. 
Initial contact made her hips buck forward, and her head softly hit the mirror behind her. Terry chased her with sloppy kisses at the base of her neck. 
The slow and steady setting was enough to get her wet and sticky. Terry'd be lying if he said the thought alone didn't have him wanting to renege on his early statement and dive in with reckless abandon. But, he remained steadfast in his pursuit of her pleasure. 
Once the initial shock had worn off, Patrice ground her hips slowly, making small circles while the vibration worked to settle her nerves. Terry took a break from leaving praises in the form of kisses on her throat to smile at his girl. 
"You're beautiful. You know that?"
She gripped his chin and pulled him closer for a fiery kiss that he let her lead. "Yeah. But, I love to hear you say it." 
"Good," he answered, grinning at her confidence as he upped the intensity on her vibrator. Her eyes clamped shut as her entire body tensed. "Stay with me." 
A deep, steadying breath turned into a silent scream as Patrice gave in to the natural urge to hold her breath. Terry used his free hand to sneak up her tank top and grope one breast while pressing his lips to her ear. 
"Breathe, baby. In and out." He modeled the behavior until she found the strength to match his tempo. "There you go. You feel good?" 
"Yes, yes," she whisper-chanted to the ceiling, her head thrown back in unimaginable euphoria. 
"I want you to feel this good every day. You deserve it, right?" 
A twisting, turning feeling at the pit of her stomach forced her to draw in a deep breath to steady herself. Her answer came in a soft moan. "Right." 
"Damn right." Pressing his forehead to hers, he zeroed in on each of her features twisted in unthinkable pleasure. 
She kept her mouth open to sigh and moan as she saw fit. Her nostrils flared in a rhythm as she tried to force herself to breathe through every peak and valley of the moment. Her brows were knitted, and her eyes closed as if she were too afraid to look at him. He wondered what she was thinking. 
Did she want him inside of her as much as he wanted the same for himself? Was she yearning for more pressure? Could she feel how much he loved her?
"Don't get quiet on me. I want everything. Let 'em hear you. You need more?" 
A quick glance down helped him reposition the vibrator on her already sensitive bud, earning a guttural curse as appreciation for his good deed. 
"Fuck! Don't move. Please don't move." 
Terry obliged for the moment, too entranced by his view of her flower on full display for his viewing pleasure. Glistening. Wet. Beautiful. Appetizing like nothing he'd ever seen before. He pulled the toy away and replaced its presence with his thumb. Slow circles and firm pressure made her want to close her legs to escape the overwhelming stimulation, but her attempt was futile. She was at his mercy. 
"Damn," he whispered to himself, enamored by the way her body reacted to his touch. 
Every revolution around her clit brought with it more wetness at her entrance and indentations in his arms from her nails gripping for dear life. 
It wasn't enough to touch her. He needed to taste. 
Using his middle and ring fingers, he teased his introduction with gentle brushes against her inner lips. She keened for more against his mouth as she held his face close. He granted her wish and pushed into her slowly, immediately feeling her warmth envelop his long digits. 
Their mouths hung open, breaths being traded between the two as he set a slow pace. Not enough to bring forth a release. Just enough for Terry to get what he came for. 
Removing his fingers left him with a coating of clear arousal nearly dripping to his knuckles. Patrice watched him as he smirked at the sight, examining it like a jeweler appraising precious diamonds. 
When he'd seen enough, he put both fingers into his mouth and closed his eyes to savor the taste. Patrice's mouth hung open as if waiting for her turn to experience the wonders of her juices. 
Had she closed her eyes for even a second, she would have missed Terry extending his tongue from his mouth to allow a mixture of his saliva and her essence the chance to slide from his tongue in anticipation of a new host. 
Something profound and hungry within her made her lean her head back and hold her tongue out to receive all that he had to give. It excited her, delighted her, and aroused her like never before.
Like a lewd work of art, spit connected their tongues in what would otherwise be seen as an infraction among more proper circles. But fuckin' wasn't proper, and all forms of affection were welcomed in their home. 
Almost immediately, Terry rushed to reward her with a wild and frenzied kiss that nearly surprised him. 
Primal. Carnal. Intense. Fucking disgusting. He loved every minute of it.
The race was on. Terry kept their lips connected as he returned the vibrator to her clit, dialing up the settings to a level below their max. 
Patrice's moans and his couldn't be distinguished from one another. Her hips bucked wildly. Her fingernails left marks in their wake as they scratched at his arms and back. Her body twitched and seized in anticipation of the inevitable. 
"Oh my - fuck!" Satisfied tears slid from the corners of her eyes and down her cheeks to her man's awaiting lips. "Terrence!" 
Terry remained locked in. A man possessed. A one-track mind focused on nothing other than completing the mission. 
The first stage of her orgasm came without a warning. Heat washed over her as if she'd stepped outside at high noon, making her skin almost unbearable to live in. Her toes curled, her voice caught in her throat despite the intense desire to release a scream from the depths of her soul into the atmosphere. 
She thanked Terry and God in Heaven for blessing her with the opportunity to touch the moon and the stars without ever leaving her home. Terry used his free hand to grip and massage her thighs, knowing that the best was yet to come. 
Patrice's voice began to climb as the main event approached. Shallow breaths gave way to loud gasps for air, which came rapidly while she did the same. She was suspended in a beautiful bliss and already sad about the prospect of coming down. 
Her lover reveled in the opportunity to see her unraveling at the seams. 
"I'll always come back to you, beautiful. No matter what, okay? Look at me." His request earned intense focus from Patrice under hooded eyes. "You're so pretty. Say it back to me. Tell me you're pretty."
"I'm so pretty!" Impending release sent all her words out in one breathless sentence. 
He smiled at her compliance. "I know you're close. Hold my hand."
Her fingers scrambled against the counter, filling the spaces between his fingers and gripping with enough force to turn her knuckles a lighter shade of brown. 
"That's my girl. I love you," was all he could manage before Patrice let out something akin to a squeal, turning his declaration into background fodder. 
Sensitive, overstimulated, and completely spent, the after-effects of her release had her panting to recover. Her ears rang with a heady feeling that could only be compared to a few puffs of homegrown bud. 
Terry held her through it all, propping her up while her body sagged against him for stability. He put aside the vibrator to run his palms up and down her legs while he showered her temple with whispered praises and sweet kisses. 
He waited until her breathing was even before gingerly pressing his forehead to hers. "You good?" 
His smirk was incredibly smug. He was proud of himself, and for good reason. She was open to giving credit where credit was due. 
"You can never leave this house without me again. I hope you're happy." 
"That's the whole point. My granny taught me some things during them summers down in New Orleans, you know?" 
"Oh, so this is some magic shit?" 
"Family business, baby. Gotta have the last name to find out." A playful glint in his eyes and a squeeze to her waist made Patrice's stomach feel butterflies that she thought would never return. Terry tapped her nose with his index finger and stepped back. "Stay put. I'll clean you up." 
Patrice scoffed. Stay put. As if she could go anywhere. As if she wanted to go anywhere.
Like the perfect gentleman, Terry was tender with his care. A warm towel to soothe sore muscles and ensure a thorough cleanup was mandatory. The extra loving was complimentary for only his favorite lady. 
"Stay with me tonight," Patrice requested as he slid her panties back up her legs. 
He shook his head and smiled while prompting her to lift her hips. "I don't know if that's a good idea, Treecey." 
"I just wanna be next to you. Nothing more." 
Terry regarded her doe-eyed plea with a small smile as he helped her off the counter. He pulled her into an embrace, fiending for one more kiss. She obliged happily until he'd had his fill. 
His hands slid from her sides to her ass for a generous squeeze before answering. 
"Okay. Whatever you want. Let me handle something real quick, and then I'll meet you there." 
Patrice accepted her victory with a silly happy dance before turning to make enough room in her bed for an extra person. Terry sent her on her way with a light tap to her ass, amused by how something as simple as sleeping next to each other was exciting for her. 
Once she was safely out of the bathroom with the door shut behind her, he finally found time to take a deep breath and compose himself. The actual test of his strength was in the next room, and he couldn't risk the trust he'd worked so hard to build. 
After adjusting his shorts, he picked up his phone and sat on the toilet lid, hoping that watching dog videos or Nationals highlights would clear his mind.
He had every intention of opening the web browser on his phone until he noticed a series of messages from an old friend.
From: McBride 
You check your mail? 
Trial against chief starts in two weeks. Gonna need you to testify to take him down
Know you said you weren’t coming back
Do it for Mike
---
TAGS: @planetblaque @wvsspoppin @thatone-girly @oniccah @avoidthings @slutsareteacherstoo @eilujion @amyhennessyhouse @yaachtynoboat711 @jenlovey @pinkpantheris @blowmymbackout @deja-r
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hadiasuudb · 2 days
Text
🆘🆘🆘Don't skip, please help you improve your health!!🆘 🍉 🇵🇸.
Hello, my name is Hadia Saud. I lost my husband, Moamen Akl, the bodybuilding champion
We lived a happy life, we had a house and a gym. He participated in international tournaments held in Lebanon, Algeria, Egypt, China and others and contributed to his winning many titles.
But since October 7, our club has been destroyed. Then my husband was martyred in an air strike, and after that my mother, who worked in an institution that exploited her private needs, was martyred. “I lost my father, who was a tailor, and my brothers as well, and now I take care of my younger brothers.” Talaat (15 years old), Khalil (14 years old), Ritaj (10 years old), Sobhi (9 years old), and Tayseer (6 years old) suffered an eye injury that required an expensive surgery. Zahra (5 years old) never stops resisting psychological pressure and bedwetting.
We are now in northern Gaza and we suffer from a loss of security in food, drink, clothing and medicine
We are threatened with death every minute, from the continuous bombing that has not stopped.
Since October 7, we have been displaced more than several times after being bombed. Our house was completely destroyed, and we are now in a school for displaced people. We suffer from skin diseases due to the lack of water and the lack of drinking water. There is no place for us in these crowded and displaced places, and there is no support for us and my brothers in the north.
I also need your donations so that we can escape death and travel for survival treatment, as travel costs are very high. Help me and my fellow children so that we can escape death and start over in a better place.
Please hope it grows
Every day I face a difficult life. There is nothing that I am still the support for my brothers in everything after my father and mother, and in everything in this life.
I try to provide some food for at least half of the morning every day for my brothers, and my battle to obtain clean drinking water, if any, is still ongoing, as we are on the cusp of a normal winter. How can I do this? Let us bring clothes and a cover to protect us from the cold weather
The daily struggle to survive in the hope of reaching a decent life. I address this request and ask for basic assistance for us in trying to travel for me and my brothers and to perform an urgent operation for my injured brother before he loses his eye.
These donations will be used for food and medicine and will be used for travel and treatment...
I endured this life like no one else did. Wrestling, days and my spirit to be steadfast for my brothers
I ask you to support me so that I can get rid of this fear that clouds my mind and thinking
Your donations and assistance can speak greatly in our lives
We thank you from our hearts for your generosity and support. I need your support to motivate us for the time, which will give me hope for me and all my brothers and end the difficulties until this collective gathering ends
🆘🆘🆘🆘🆘🆘🆘🆘
Each (55 Swedish krona = 5 dollars)
100 dollars = 1100 kroner
It will make a difference 🙏🍉 Be the one to help us
Every donation can make a real difference and give us hope until this war ends.
Our team at #GazaVetters has rigorously vetted and approved this campaign, earning it a spot on our official list at #65 .
https://gofund.me/643f45d0
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drefear · 3 days
Text
Written in Blood
Summary: you're just a girl from the village, a place that worships an infamous vampire for his immortality, and one night a year, he hosts a big party in his castle. You finally got an invite, and unlike everyone else, you're less than excited.
TW: blood, drinking, unwanted advances, sex, p in v, loss of virginity, blood drinking.
Glasses of champagne clinked as you straightened your shoulders, nervous and gulping heavily. The music would have lulled you and made you relax in any other scenario, but you were in the vampire castle tonight and the idea of not knowing who could try to drink your blood was making you anxious. Ballgowns swished and swayed, but you stayed glued to the wall, a flower unmoving among a field of breezy flora. All the girls in the village were so excited to be invited, the one night a year that the Lord of the Vampires invited any humans into his mansion, and you were finally of age to be invited. Everyone in the village that was of age received an invitation personally signed with his name and theirs, and when you went to the market for your family a month ago, you saw all of the girls fawning over the extravagant letter with their names in calligraphy and signed in heavy, black ink. You only felt your stomach become filled with rocks, seeing your name in his handwriting and thinking that your blood would be next. 
You snapped back into the present when you watched the townspeople dance and laugh, eating their fill and making conversation like you all weren’t inside of the abode of the monster who murdered tens of your every year. The pins in your hair made your skull ache, but your mother was determined to make you look like a porcelain doll. She sent you in a large dress that was almost as puffy as a pastry, but you insisted on black. You wouldn’t wear one of those frilly pink or blue gowns that you saw in the windows of boutiques, you wanted something that matched the dreadful feeling in your chest. You wanted everyone to know how you felt. 
Vampires and humans mingled, but you stayed to yourself and refused to dance with everyone who asked so far. Glancing upwards towards the massive crystal chandelier in the center of the room, surrounded by smaller ones, you noticed a balcony where someone stood in all black as well, watching the party from above. Your arms folded over your chest and you thought how no one else here was dressed in all black as well, not a single person except you and this stranger. His eyes caught yours and your gasp fell in your throat, choking out as a cough. 
His bright red eyes stared into yours, you could see it all the way from the corner of the ballroom where you stood, and you instinctively took a step backwards. You blinked a few times and he was gone from where he stood, now making you look around frantically and gasp once more. 
Your name made you jump until you recognized a boy you grew up with in your school. His hand was outstretched to yours and his smile was bright as he wore an all blue suit with navy embellishments. You chewed the inside of your cheek and pinched at the meat of your hand as you calmly shook your head and curtsied, but he stepped closer. 
“I’ve seen you standing here all night, come have one try around the dancefloor with me and then you can retreat back into your shell.” He encouraged, but those red eyes were stuck to the back of your eyelids and you shook your head once more. He wasn’t leaving and you furrowed your brow in frustration. Truth be told, you just wanted to leave and now you were being haunted by both that terrifying gaze and this insolent boy you knew. “It’d be a shame if that dress went to waste, you should show it off. I know how much your mother worked on it, she was in the tailor buying fabric every week for the last month.” He joked and you politely smiled. “And we should get acquainted, since your father and mine have discussed an arrangement of marriage.” He answered and you fell silent, shock coursing through your veins. “You didn’t know? Well, we both have competing businesses and it seems that our parents think combining our businesses would be beneficial.” His answer made you feel hollow until the band stopped and a gasp fell over the crowd. 
Turning your head, you saw the man dressed in all black standing at the center of the french doors that led to the ballroom, at the top of a staircase. He looked like royalty, which is also how he was treated among your town and surrounding towns that worshiped him for his immortality. No matter how many he killed with his bloodthirst, everyone still prayed to be like him, but not you. You just wanted to live in peace and support yourself, alone and secluded, but now you were either about to be tethered to this dog of a human or die from being sucked dry by a vampire. 
“Ladies, gentlemen, all of those here.” He said in a booming voice, his words tinged with an accent of some sort that you didn't recognize. “Welcome to my home. Eat, drink, dance, have a good time, and don’t forget to indulge in your wildest, darkest fantasies. Being here is rare, and you should live like you may die tomorrow.” His words left you feeling eerie and squeamish, while everyone else cheered for his ideas. You just stared at the ground before you looked up and saw him staring at you once more. With widened eyes, you couldn’t look away. 
“I’d like to have my first dance in over a hundred years.” He spoke and began descending down the stairs as you back up, his eyes never leaving yours and as he moved inward on the crowd of people and vampires, everyone looked around to see who he was looking at. All eyes finally fell on you and you moved backward once more, bumping into a table of food and staying frozen there as he came closer. “It’s not every year that two people are dressed to match without ever meeting, don’t you think?” He said as he moved to stand in front of you, only a foot of space separating you both now. His hand reached out to ask for a dance and you felt like you may pass out from holding your breath, but he just smiled. “You can refuse if you’d like to not dance. But I’d love to make you feel a bit more welcome in my home, and a dance may be nice.” You looked between his face and his hand before realizing that he could take the soul out of your body with one bite, and you agreed. Stepping forward, you curtsied and he bowed before the musicians resumed playing their delicate music and you both moved around the center of an empty dance floor. You looked out to everyone as you danced in tandem, your bodies moving in sync to the orchestra. “You don’t have to be afraid.” He whispered into your ear, making your body tense for a moment and stepping on his foot, which then made him smile. “I’m not going to kill you, if that’s what you’re so nervous about.” 
He interrupted the conversation as he took you into his arms and hauled you higher than him into the air, a nice trick to the viewers that made everyone watching clap and cheer. His smile was dazzling and you tried not to get too distracted by his entertaining ways. 
“And the other vampires here?” You whispered and he looked around at the other cold faces, empty and hollow in the cheeks as he smirked. “Well, I can’t control others, but I’m sure that after I killed a vampire a few decades ago for drinking from another without their consent, that they’d hesitate before doing it once more in my presence.” He concluded and you were thoughtful now, reviewing each of his words like you were studying the sentence. 
“You only feed on people who agree…?” 
“Yes, of course.” He answered and he spun you into a twirl, dipping you before his face was suddenly mere inches from yours. The song ended and he smiled as he pulled you upwards once more. As you both stared at each other, the crowd became wild with enthusiasm and hollered in your beautiful dance. You looked down from the overwhelming feeling of a million eyes on you and he looked around before speaking again. “Will you let me take you somewhere private where you can take a break?” 
Without a second thought, you agreed and he pulled your hand to drag you through the crowd. 
You both exited those french doors as many people filled the dance floor once more and you looked at them before rushing forward to get away from all of the excitement. He led you to another staircase and to the doors on the left of it at the top. Once you were both inside, you recognized the rich red fabrics and four-poster bed as his master bedroom. 
His bedroom!!!
Your mind began to panic. Alone, with a vampire in his bedroom. A million and one things could happen and none of them ended with your life in your hands anymore. 
“Your blood is running quite high, but I hope you know that I won’t touch you.” He spoke in a deep voice once more, and you turned to see him. 
His face was angular, jaw sharp and cheeks carved to be perfectly symmetrical as you followed his broad nose to his piercing red eyes, a trait no other vampire had. He was so big compared to any other person, standing a foot taller than you and back wide enough to shield you from the entirety of the outside world. If he wanted you, whether it be your blood or your virtue, there was nothing you could do to stop him. The realization made your throat tight and your body shiver in fear, but his words echoed once more and you tried to relax. “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get you a glass of champagne.” You nodded and sat on the soft, velvet chaise near his bed. He handed you the crystal glass and sat across from you, with a wine glass filled with a thick, red liquid you all but gagged at. He smirked at your reaction and took a sip. 
He was nice to look at, but he was also the most deadly creature in all the world and you refused to let that slip your memory no matter how many gentle caresses you felt in that dance or how nice of a smile he gleamed. He was a monster. 
“You don’t want to be here, do you?” 
“No.” You answered honestly, and stared at the champagne in your hands. 
“Why are you here then?” 
“Because I thought you may take offense to me refusing your invitation and come to kill me.” He roared in laughter at your idea and his shoulder shook with hilarity, but you frowned deeper. 
“That town has surely cooked up many stories of my ways, hmm?” He looked back towards you and sighed, swishing around the glass. “I haven’t killed anyone unwillingly in three hundred years, and I’ve only lived for three hundred and fifty.”He clarified, “Does that make you feel better?” 
You nodded, before sipping your champagne once more and leaning back against the chaise. 
“Why black?” He asked and you could see his eyes narrow. 
You were silent for a moment, wording how you might answer before speaking to him. “I don’t like colors, especially bright ones. I like things that are easy to look at, and bright colors make me want to squint. Black is… soothing, like a rainy day or the night sky.” You answered him with truth and sincerity, and he nodded. 
“You aren’t like those eager ones down there, in their ruffle pink dresses that look like fairytales, you live in the real world, with all of its disappointments and hardship.” He watched you as he spoke and you did the same, staring back with a curt, single nod. He sipped his glass again and you felt your dinner lurch in your stomach before you pushed it back. “It’s cow blood.” He announced and you stopped for a second. 
“It… is?”
“Yes. Human blood can be… dirty. I prefer to make sure the person is not unclean, morally and healthwise. Usually, when someone offers to be my meal, they come and stay with me for a month. I feed them lavishly all healthy, delicious foods, help them be properly rested and live a balanced life before even tasting their blood, and often it’s still not enough. Then, when I am done feeding, I simply have another vampire turn them immortal and they leave.” He shrugged and you were so lost. 
“Where did those horror stories about you come from?” You asked and he became still, thinning deeply as upset etched into his face. “You don’t need to tell me-” 
“When I was first turned into a vampire, I was the first of my kind. My strength and abilities matched nothing of this world… So, I became hungry… for vengeance and power. I tore through many cities, entire countries, like a man from Hell, but many times I cried about the lives I cost the world. I then found a way to turn others immortal, like myself, and the first time I watched them go through the same insane blood thirst I did, but I trained them to control it and only drink to live. Food is still delicious, sleep is less but still nice, and life would be the same for everyone, even if they needed slightly different necessities. No human would be harmed for their mere pleasure, or I would find them and kill them myself.” The way he seemed, so serious about it, made you shiver with the vision in your mind of him ripping a head off of a body. 
“Is that how you kill a vampire? Removing their head?” 
“Isn’t that how you’d kill anything?” He smirked and you blushed at your own blunder, thinking maybe you’d drank too much champagne and putting the glass down on the ornate little table in between you both. His smile made you stare for a moment before you looked around at the room. “Am I too brazen to say that I want your eyes back on mine?” He asked and you snapped your gaze back to his, startled by his forwardness. 
“I am just a bit surprised.” 
“I’ve learned in my… few hundred years, that being direct is the best way to achieve a goal and get what you desire.” He answered and you paused, processing his words before taking his advice and being direct as well. 
“And you desire my gaze?” You asked and he seemed to become more intense in his stare. 
“Mi amor, I’ve been craving your gaze since you stepped into my home.” He admitted and you held back your gasp as you bit your lip to hold back any embarrassing reaction you may have had. “I knew you’d be my weakness the second I saw you, a black dahlia in a sea of sunflowers and roses.” His metaphor made your heart race and you watched as he stood up and circled your chaise, like a shark around a boat. “You are breathtaking, and yet blind to every admirer's attention, so I had to make myself known… and try my best to make you mine, at least for a night.” His words set fire to your skin and made your mind hazy from the smoke, your mouth suddenly dry. He stood in front of you and kneeled down before reaching for your hand, which you gave to him and he leaned closer. He smelled of spices and rust, and you were entranced. 
“I never thought I’d see the Lord of all Vampires kneeling for me.” You whispered as his face moved closer and closer until his breath fanned across your cheeks and warmed your lips. 
“You are the only creature I’ve seen that deserved my worship.” His words felt like a secret that you guarded with your heart, something you wished you could scream from the top of his towers and brandish on your body for everyone to read. “May I?” He asked and you answered by closing the distance. His lips were plush and p[lump, like cold water against the warm sand, and they stole your breath with how experienced they seemed to be. As the seconds went by, you moved in a rhythm, ignorant to anything around either of you and he moved to bend over you and cup your face, now above you on the chaise and licking delicately at your lips, which made you quiver in new ways. 
As the heat between you two rose, so did the escalation of your embrace. His arms quickly wrapped around you and he moved to lay next to you as he pulled at the ties of the corset on your dress, the sleeve slipping as he frustratedly pulled the strings, before finally ripping the corset in half and leaving your topless. You pulled away, shocked, and covered your breasts before he drank you in for a moment. His brash action made you both nervous of his incredible strength, and excited that those same hands wanted to pleasure you. It was like you were a flimsy doll in his care, and he wanted to cherise you despite how fragile you were and how easily he could tear you limb from limb. He dragged a finger over the hands covering yourself before he gently pulled them away, which you willingly obliged, and he instantly pressed his forehead to your skin, breathing in your scent before wrapping his pink lips around your nipple and sucking experimentally. You jerked in response and gasped, shaking a little from the pleasure. 
His eyes watched you as you moaned and you felt something sharp nibble into your skin before you saw his fangs poking through a bit. This made everything even more enjoyable, the bits of danger he exuded. As you moved to sit in his lap, he kept licking andsucking at your chest until dark bruises littered your skin in a cacophony of maps. As you let him continue his claim over your bodice, his hand tugged at the uncomfortable material that made up your skirt and you pushed his chest away as he looked at you with confusion. You stood before the chair and carefully removed the skirt of your gown, his eyes never leaving your exposed skin. As he watched you shimmy it off, his red gaze stared at the blossom of your hips from your waist and his entire being seemed like a man starved. You made no movement for a moment until his eyes found yours once more and you felt the pull of his stare. 
His hands gripped your waist as you moved back to him and he lifted you on top of him like you weighed nothing, before pulling his own clothing off in a sequence of rushed motions. As cloth and expensive fabric littered the floor, you both sat with nothing on for a second before smashing your lips into each other. The depth of his kiss was sharp and dizzying as you tried to grip reality, but his body could swallow you whole and your shadow with it. 
He pulled you into his arms and stood to carrying you over to his bed and as you fell gently into the soft, rich feeling of his blankets, the glow of candles lit up the muscles lining his body, He was like a statute, sculpted and formed with definition between ever different curvature in his skin. From his neck, to his shoulders, to his chest and abdomen, it was all as if kissed by Aphriodite herself and blessed to be man’s greatest temptation. 
Or in this case, your greatest temptation. How damned your soul would be if you gave your virtue to a man sworn to go to Hell, who has feasted on the flesh and blood of mankind, and oh, how much you didn’t care. 
As your eyes trailed around his body, he chuckled and grasped your ankles, before tugging you closer. “Are you sure about this? You look as if you’re a kitten in a Lion’s Den.” He spoke playfully and you returned the favor by covering yourself slightly and shrugging a shoulder. 
“If I did, I think you may be disappointed, as you seem quite…” your eyes trailed down between his legs and he followed your gaze, then looking back at you as you smiled, “enthused.” 
“I’m more than enthused. I haven’t even felt you inside yet, and I’m ready to give my soul to ravish you for eternity.” He concluded before he mounted the bed and hovered over you. “But I will ask again… Are you sure? Vampires can tend to become thirsty while in the throes of passion.” 
“Are you saying that you might bite me?” You asked as you placed your hands on his shoulders, massaging the muscle there, which made you even more excited. 
“Yes.” 
“Will it kill me?” 
“No, of course not.” He shook his head, as if laughing at a joke, “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you were to die because of me.” he spoke softly and you nodded. 
“Then do as you please with me, as long as you do not stop once you start.” You answered and he let out a tense breath of relief as he grabbed your hips harshly and pulled your bodies closer. As he pulled your chest to his, you felt him begin to enter you and the stretch of him inside you made you gasp. The feeling burned a bit and as he moved, you tried to catch your breath. He stilled a bit and scanned your face with concern as you bit your lip, but he stopped completely when he realized you were in pain. 
“Are you alright?” He asked gently and pecked your forehead as you nodded. 
“Is it supposed to hurt?” You asked and he smiled before kissing a line down your neck. 
“Haven’t you ever…” He trailed off before you both stared into each other’s eyes, a quiet understanding settling as he learned a bit more. “You haven’t.” 
“No, I haven't.” You whispered and he looked down at your hand before bringing your wrist to his lips and kissing your knuckles. 
“I’m honored to be the first.” He spoke softly and stared deeply into your eyes, “Tell me when to move, alright?” 
“I’m ok, you- you can move.” You nervously agreed and he began to move deeper inside of you, finding the spot that made you shake in pleasure and pressing into them more. You gasped, shocked by how great the feeling was and he smirked at the sudden surprise you wore on your face. 
“Careful. I may want to be the first and last.” His seductive tone made you shiver, the feeling of his muscles around you exhilarating, enclosing you to the bed. His face was so close to yours, and the way he slowly moved against you, on you, with you, made the world feel so small. His groans brought you closer, and the rhythm of his thrusts made you feel yourself about to tumble off of the brink of ecstasy. Your mind spun as everything in your body tensed, shaking and letting out a loud scream as you writhed under him. As you yelled, he quickly sank his fangs into your throat, and the sting of the punctures made you roll her eyes. You hissed through your teeth as he drank, the piercing pain in your veins making your toes curl happily while he drank you in, literally. 
You both groaned and shifted as he closed his eyes and thrusted into you harshly, pulling his fangs from your throat and pushing into you one last time before he clenched his teeth and finished deep inside of you. 
The heaviness of your panting makes Miguel smile as he barely looks as if he’s moved at all. 
“Did you like that?” He kisses your cheek, warm lips pressing into your slick skin and making your eyes close comfortably. 
“Yes… did you?” 
“Of course, I can’t imagine any man who wouldn’t enjoy being with you. I’d like to keep going… everyday.” His voice became gentle and calm as he then said your name. You nodded and held the back of his neck as you pulled him into a kiss. The world blurred a bit as you began to drift into a sound sleep. 
As you woke up, the sun blazed into the room, creating dark shadows against the brightness of the daylight. Miguel walked into the room and breezed past the widows with no fear of the sunlight at all, puzzling you. 
“I thought vampires couldn’t be in the sun.” 
“Vampires don’t like the sun, but that’s because our eyesight is much better than humans. We're perfectly fine in the sun, and we prefer to be in the dark because too much light causes headaches for everyone, vampire or human.” He answered and smiled once more, reminding you about your epic adventure last night with the Lord of the Vampires. 
“Come back to bed…” You begged and he complied, holding your hand as he climbed onto the rich fabrics and laid his head on your stomach. 
“I’d like you to live here with me, and be mine…” 
“Be yours?” 
“Yes. Mate with me, become my partner.” He explained and you were silent. “Not ready to commit?”
“Not sure if I’m enough. I’m just another person from the village.” You slumped your shoulders slightly as you thought more about how wrong he was. He was a historic creature, deadly and legendary, and you were just another townsperson. 
“Mi vida, you are the one I’ve been waiting for, for three hundred and fifty years.” His whispers made you relax your body and snuggle more into his body as he moved to meet your eyes, laying side by side now. “You don’t realize how special you really are, and one day, you will.” His red gaze made you sink into his embrace, his words hugging you like a tight blanket as the sun kissed his tan face and made your heart flutter. His hand brushed the hair from your cheeks and the tickle of his skin against you made everything feel calm and ok… 
After years of feeling out of place, you finally felt at peace in his arms and everything suddenly made sense.
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chrisbesitos · 10 hours
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Young reader meeting Chris’ parents for the first time and then finding her to be the cutest thing
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It was the first time you travel with Chris to Boston. You're meet his parents, you was feeling anxious and scared, because what if they don't like you? You chew your nails nervously, staring the sky through the plane window, Chris notices your anxious state. He massages your shoulder, catching your attention.
"You're gonna hurt yourself doing this." He says, putting your hand down gently. You take a deep and shaky breath, Chris shakes his head, embracing your shoulders and pulling you closer to him. "Why are you so anxious? You're afraid or something?"
"Do you think your parents gonna like me?" You ask, resting your head on his shoulder. Chris giggles, shaking his head disbelief.
"My mom already love you, I can promise you, doll." Chris hugs your body, kissing your forehead. "She texted me asking what you like to eat, she's really excited to meet you and so is my dad."
"Still nervous, baby, sorry."
"Don't be, okay? We still have a couple hours since we arrive Boston, so try to relax and take a nap." He says, closing the window and pulling your hood down, covering your eyes. You chuckle, holding his hand.
"Chris, stop!"
Couple hours later, you arrive Boston with Chris and his brothers. You sleep for a while, you wake up with Chris shaking your shoulder. Justin, Chris' oldest brother, were there to get you. He's really nice, he says that Chris talks about you all the time when he's home. The drive until their house was enough to make you fall asleep again on Chris chest, you only wake when you got there.
"You're so sleepy today." Chris jokes, helping you to get out of the car. You smile lazily, nodding your head and rubbing your eyes. Of course Chris didn't let you carry your bags, even if you feel bad of him carrying everything. "Don't worry, 'kay?" He says to you when you were at the door, he opens and pull the bags inside. "We're home!"
"Oh, you finally here!" Marylou says, approaching her son and hugging him. You stay behind them, hiding your hands inside of the sleeves of Chris' hoodie. "You must be Y/N, Chris talks about you all the time."
"Mom!" Chris protests.
"It's so good to finally meet you, Mrs. Sturniolo." You say, Marylou opens her arms to hug you, your lips lean in a lovely smile.
"You can call me Marylou, sweetheart." She says. Marylou hugs her sons before she move you towards the kitchen. She shows you the pictures on the walls of the triplets when they were kids and telling the stories about their childhood, Chris protests when Marylou start to tell the embarrassing stories.
When Jimmy arrives, Chris introduces his girlfriend to his father, she was already comfortable in the house, talking with Marylou about her family and classes on college. You was feeling anxious and nervous, but Chris was totally right, his parents already loves you and treats you so well. Later in the day, you and Chris laying on his bed on his childhood room, your bodys intertwine together, Chris rubbing your back with his fingertips, your head rest on his chest.
"Thank you, baby." You whisper drowsy.
"For what, doll?" Chris asks, frowning his eyebrows.
"For everything, I love you."
"You don't have to thank me for this." Chris chuckles, he kisses your hair. "I love you, doll."
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꩜ chérie's notes: im finally back 👏👏👏👏 hope you like it this little blurb <3
tags ; @lizzymacdonald06 @deliciousluminaryanchor @lushjunkie @sweetreliever @watercolorskyy @ivysturnss @brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @gabri3la-sturns @strnlxlqve @stvrnzcherries @unknvhx @pvssychicken @all4l0vee @i4longhairchris @sluttybitchformattsturniolo @sophand4n4 @sturniololetstrip2
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s1ckh1mb0 · 2 days
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“Bitch where the fuck are you!”
“Shit, at home. I’m not coming out, I told y’all that already.”
“What? Bitch stop playing. For real, where are you at?”
You looked at your phone dumbfounded for a moment before bringing the phone back to your ear.
“What are you talking about? I’m home. Like I said. I’m not coming out, I told y’all I don’t be drinking and shit like that no more. I got kids to worry about.”
“You’re a fucking weirdo you know that? You got with that man and all of a sudden you wanna pretend like you got your shit together. You are just like the rest of us. When you decide to quit being an uppity bitch let us know.”
You all but jumped through your phone before you heard her hang up. This was why you wiener hang out with them. They always hated when people were successful. Anything good that happened to you they just find some way to make it seem like you were trying to come off as better than them.
When you graduated from school, whenever you got your hair done, whenever you did something good at school work, they just hated it. The worst was when you got with Bruce. They were just spiteful. Bruce was a good man. A man that many wanted, but he was the one that you got.
“Those bitches are weird man, almost forty and all they wanna do is club and shit. Like be for real. And then wanna get mad at me for not wanting to go out and be messy. Weird ass hoes.”
Bruce was listening to you talk about the girls who constantly blew your phone up asking to go out and get drunk. His hands massaging your freshly done feet. He was never really the biggest fan of anyone honestly, but those girls especially. Loud and obnoxious, always doing nothing but gossiping.
They had nothing going for them and he could easily see that. That’s the reason he told you to distance your self. Those aren’t the people you needed to be around. He was doing his best to provide you a soft life when he wasn’t busy, no way in hell were some random bitches about to ruin that for you.
“You might as well block their number. No need to keep in contact anymore.”
You were frustrated but knew he was right. You would have to. You recentered yourself and your life to be the new person that your happiness allowed. You just needed to get rid of the last few things that were ruining your energy.
“You’re right. I’m happy, I don’t need that bitterness in our life.”
Bruce let out a hearty chuckle and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. A comfortable silence as his hands roamed your body. Just taking in every dip and curve. It was like art to him.
“I’m hungry.”
You and Bruce turned around only to faced with your little toddler stepson, Damian. The small four year old made his way to you, pushing his father’s hands away from you before plopping on to your lap like nothing. This was nothing new, you were his favorite parent. You moved your phone off your lap as you took the small boy into your arms.
“It’s two in the morning Damian, you’re supposed to be sleep.”
“Hungry.”
Bruce rolled his eyes at the boy and watched as you walked off with him to get him a snack before putting him back to bed. He took the time to go on your phone and block every single one of the girls. No way in his was someone about to ruin the love of his life’s happiness.
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bimoonphases · 2 days
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@wolfstarmicrofic September 26 - prompt 26: Harry [word count 630]
“What’s wrong, Bambi?” Sirius asked across the breakfast table. “You haven’t said more than five words since you came back yesterday.”
“Are you alright, darling?” Remus added, pouring Harry a steaming cup of tea. “You haven’t even touched your mince pie.”
“And that’s rude, Moony has worked a whole day to get them just the way you like for your Christmas break,” Sirius nodded, shoving one in his mouth.
Remus sat down, looking at the fifteen-year old who was staring at his plate. Harry always came back from Hogwarts for Christmas and summer break with so many stories to tell, about his friends, about Quidditch, which Sirius listened to with wide eyes as if he hadn’t been there cheering him on at every match, about his teachers, which made it very hard for both Sirius and Remus not to bash Snape out loud every time their son told them about his awful behaviour. But this time Sirius was right, Harry had come back the previous day all closed-down and still hadn’t said anything. Remus took a mince pie from the plate. Whatever it was, Harry would tell them sooner or later, and if he didn’t they would have to gently coax it out of him and see why he hadn’t felt comfortable with sharing what had been weighing on his mind.
“I have to tell you something,” Harry blurted out suddenly.
Remus nodded, and Sirius put his coffee cup back on the table.
“We’re all ears, Bambi,” he said.
“I’m… I’m dating someone,” Harry was looking in his teacup.
“Oh Merlin, Moony,” Sirius clutched Remus’s hand while he wiped away invisible tears with the other. “They grow up so fast.”
“That’s wonderful, darling,” Remus smiled, patting his dramatic husband’s hand. “Boy, girl, someone who doesn’t use those old labels?”
“Boy,” Harry still wasn’t looking at them. “But there’s something else. He’s in Slytherin.”
“Harry, that really doesn’t matter,” Remus said, Sirius nodding by his side. “You almost got put in Slytherin yourself after all. And honestly if it weren’t for a thousand years of tradition the House division shouldn’t exist anymore.”
“Agreed, we’ve seen how they don’t reflect who you really are, we are well placed to know that,” Sirius added.
The framed photograph of Regulus in his Quidditch robes on the mantelpiece nodded vigorously along with the one of James and Lily baking cupcakes in their own kitchen, Lily heavily pregnant with Harry.
“It’s not the Slytherin part, it’s he’s… He’s…” Harry took a deep breath. “He’s Draco Malfoy.”
Sirius’s eyes went comically wide and his mouth hung open before he let his head fall heavily on the table. Harry finally looked up, staring confusedly at his godfather.
“Narcissa Black’s son, right?” Remus said, trying his best not to laugh.
“Yes…” Harry was still looking at Sirius.
“Why, Moony, why?” Sirius groaned from the table. “What have I done to deserve this?”
“Pads, stop it, you’re upsetting Bambi,” Remus nudged him. “Are you happy with him, Harry?”
“Yes,” Harry looked at him, his cheeks turning slightly red. “But is it alright? With his family being who they are I mean…”
“Once again, we’re well placed to know people aren’t their family, right my love?” Remus elbowed Sirius this time and he finally sat up again.
“Of course we are, it’s not that, Bambi. I’m happy you’re happy with whoever you’re dating, remember that?”
“Then what’s wrong?” Harry looked at him, confused.
“Well, you’re exactly like your father in this too,” Sirius smiled.
As Harry stared at them even more confused, Remus and Sirius looked up at the mantelpiece, where Regulus’s photograph was very blatantly blushing while James’s photograph was winking exaggeratedly to him from his own frame, Lily laughing so much she had had to lean on the counter.
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Everybody knows mothers go through a nesting phase, but did you know fathers can too? (Soon to be/new dads txt)
About eight months in, Soobin realises just how many stairs there are in his house. Every trip down the stairs is accompanied by the vision of a very round, very fragile baby tumbling down the stairs and he's set into action. "Soob, there's still so much time left before the baby will even start to crawl," you try to reassure him, but he's already installed the first one and is onto the next. "Do you really want to be dealing with these gates until then?" Looking up from his work, his face seems to fall a little, and you think he's realised he's gotten quite a bit ahead of himself as he explains sheepishly, "I just, well I didn't want to forget by then."
After three hours at the store making sure he bought the best and safest one, Yeonjun spends most of the rest of the day wrangling with the baby car seat. He reads the instructions over a few times before his first attempt, and by late afternoon, he's read those same diagrams about fifty times. His hair is wild with the way he keeps frustratedly running his hands through it, his eyes determined but tired, lips in full pout. When you bring him a drink and suggest a break, reminding him that the seat won't be needed for another three months. But when Yeonjun wants to do something, he makes it happen. After downing his drink and kissing you, he goes over the manual one last time and finally accomplishes it.
Beomgyu rearranges all of the furniture in the main room. A few times. "It's like playing Tetris," he explains. So he moves everything around until he finds the configuration he's looking for; the one that opens up the room, making enough space to lay out a blanket and for the two of you to sit on the floor with baby. When you walk in one night and find him sprawled on the carpet, totally exhausted, he grins up at you like a mad man. "It's finished."
Coming home from the pharmacy one day, you call out to Taehyun from the front door as usual, but he doesn't call back. You go in search of him through the house, but he's nowhere to be found – except for the last place you look. Finding him in the backyard, you can't believe your eyes. Because Taehyun is building a fence. He smiles up at you like he's doing something completely ordinary, like making a sandwich. You have to ask before he explains that he'd been thinking for a while that the yard needed a stronger fence, and that it will provide more privacy for playing with your kid outside.
Kai buys so many blankets your kids will never be cold. you swear every time he comes home he's got another armful of stuff, until you have more blankets then there are rooms in the house and enough stuffed animals for three kids. He looks at you so proudly and excitedly as he shows you each haul, his smile outshining the sun, explaining how he spotted the items when he wasn't even looking for it and couldn't leave the store without it.
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wildlife4life · 1 day
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8x01 Fuck-it Friday Coda
I'm back!!! The writing beans came to me and I had to write a post b-day scene. Hope ya'll enjoy!!! (Using this as my Fuck-it Friday as well!) Posted to A03 as well.
Tommy tried to apologize, tried to offer to help clean up, and suggested to give Buck a ride home. 
“Don’t” was Eddie’s first response before the apology could even get past the older man’s lips.
“I’ll deal with it later.” Was his second.
And Buck, merely shook his head and lead the pilot to the front door, hugging him in the doorway with too soft words Eddie doesn’t even try to catch.
He stays seated on the couch, laptop still closed, cone hate crushed in his fist and the stupid noise maker at his feet. Another birthday passing through a lagging computer screen. Another person he loves upset and angry for his choices.
Except there’s silence that echoes around him instead of the bustle of an army encampment. His body isn’t weighed down by miliary gear and the ever presence fear of dying in the sands of war.  Eddie is no longer that man in his early 20’s, running from his problems. Now he’s just a man in his mid-thirties, watching his son run away from him.
The couch dips to his right and warmth seeps into his numb body.  It spreads around his back and over his left shoulder.  The band of muscles around him, flex, pulling Eddie deeper and pushing the numbness further away.
Eddie doesn’t even try to fight it.  He closes his eyes, tipping his body sideways and burying his face into his best friend’s shoulder.
Buck doesn’t say anything.  He doesn’t try to apologize or offer to help clean, and he doesn’t suggest leaving Eddie to wallow alone. Because he doesn’t need to say any of those things.
Apologies from Buck aren’t going to salvage the failed birthday surprise.  Offers to clean the dollar store decorations and store-bought cupcakes will in no way make a dent in the disarray that is Eddie’s relationship with his son. And Eddie knows better than anyone, Buck is never going to leave him alone in this mess.
Side by side they sit in the silence that has been lingering since Christopher left for Texas.  Eddie breaths in the mixture of Buck’s cologne, laundry detergent, and something that is just uniquely Buck.  He takes breath after breath, and Buck matches each one with his own. Same rhythm. Same speed. Same heartache.
They sit there for minutes, hours, maybe even the rest of evening. The time didn’t matter, but this moment did, and Eddie needed to stay in it for just a little longer. He needed the line of warmth from Buck to chase away the remaining ache. He needed just a few more deep breaths with Buck’s scent lingering in the back of his throat. He needed Buck to keep holding onto him. He needed the silence to try and remember the echoes of previous birthdays where Christopher didn’t scoff, but smiled and laughed and returned his father’s hugs. He needed his son back.
But at this moment, his son didn’t need him.
It sobers Eddie, admitting that and he comes back to himself, breaking the bubble he secluded himself in with Buck.
He pulls his head from Buck’s shoulder and with a squeeze of his hand to Buck’s knee, Buck drops his arm, but the strength of his support remains. And when Eddie rises to his feet, disconnecting himself from Buck’s side, his warmth, his love, clings and doesn’t allow the numbness to return.
The silence is still there. The hurt and echoes of laughter’s past still resonance around them. There is still a mess. But Eddie isn’t alone with any of it.
Buck grabs the trash bag he laid out earlier and plucks the crumpled party hat from Eddie’s laxed grip. It makes the slightest rustle when dropped in the bag and again when followed by Buck’s red one.
“No cone hats next year, they’re uncomfortable.” Buck states as he tosses Tommy’s discarded blue hat in.
He reaches for the noise maker on the floor and Eddie manages to allow the smallest spark of hope to erupt with a tiny smile, “What do you suggest instead?”
The noise maker disappears into the trash bag and Buck’s eyes catch Eddie’s, lighting up with giddiness, “Depends.  Disney has the mickey ears, but what about universal? Shrek ears? Troll hair? Minion bald caps?”
A grand birthday plan is already in the works for Christopher’s 15th. Because Buck could see past pool clubs and renovation talks. He is seeing past the tangles in Eddie’s and Christopher’s distant relationship, beyond the anger and sadness.  His hope is larger than a single spark and one day, it will charge Eddie’s own.
One day, but not today.  So, Eddie shakes his head at Buck’s hat contemplations and makes his way over to the cupcake stand that is only missing one. “You’re baking these next year.” Eddie says softly.
Buck comes up behind him beaming, “You’re helping.”
Exactly what he needed to hear.
Tagging for fuck-it friday (no pressure): @colonoscopys @mattsire @bigfootsmom @tidesreach @kitteneddiediaz
@inell @pansysgothgf @smilingbuckley @shitouttabuck @dangerpronebuddie
@bucks-daddy-issues @tizniz @aroeddiediaz @cal-daisies-and-briars @lemonzestywrites
@diazsdimples @daffi-990 @diazheartsbuckley @transboybuckley @rainbow-nerdss
@theotherbuckley @lover-of-mine @jeeyuns @watchyourbuck @exhuastedpigeon
@spaceprincessem @starlingbite @glorious-spoon @jesuisici33 @hippolotamus
@prosperdemeter2 @try-set-me-on-fire @homerforsure @bekkachaos @honestlydarkprincess
@thekristen999 @sibylsleaves @mellaithwen @lonelychicago @tawaifeddiediaz
@fruitydiaz @monsterrae1 @elvensorceress @gayhoediaz @captain-hen
@eddiebabygirldiaz
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Just One Reason: A Walk in the Park
My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.
Character: Lloyd Hansen
masterlist - to be added
Summary: A chance encounter at the sandwich shop doesn’t end how you expect.
As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️
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You push through the door of the lobby and hold it open for the elder woman hunched over her walker. You patiently let her through but she doesn’t even acknowledge your deed. It’s too bad that most times you help people, you don’t even seem to notice. That’s fine. You’d feel worse to see her struggle. 
She heads for the outer door but before you can rush over to get that too, someone else does. You blanch as you recognise the man with the bristly mustache. It’s Lloyd. You haven’t seen or heard from him in the week since the sandwich shop encounter. You just assumed it was another random crossing of wires. 
The woman mutters as she passes through the door and his cheek twitches as he waits until he’s through to let go. He shakes his head and turns to you, “there ya are. Didn’t know your unit so kinda just been hanging around.” 
You blink, “you’ve been waiting on me?” 
“That lady was a grouch, huh? Not even a thanks. Telling ya, tootsie roll, you’re too sweet,” he says. That pet name is cute but a bit much. 
“Um, yeah, but she’s probably in a lot of pain. Maybe one day I’ll be in the same way and someone will hold the door for me,” you shrug. “But uh, why exactly are you waiting in my lobby?” 
“Friends stop by to say hello, don’t they?” He grins.  
“Sure, but uh...” 
“You said we’re friends so... did I misread this? Were you just being nice? The way you do, huh? Because lying isn’t very nice, tootsie.” 
You shake your head, “no, I just... I don’t know. I’m surprised. That’s all.” 
“Good surprise?” He lifts a brow. 
“Yeah, of course,” you squeak. 
“Mm, and where are you off too, besides helping little old ladies?” He challenges. 
“Just going for a walk. I like to walk through Garnet.” 
“Garnet? You mean the sh—the path down there?” He points to the wall and you nod. 
“They have pretty flowers.” 
“It’s... almost winter,” he sniffs. 
“Yeah, I know. I like it though. There’s still ducks around.” 
He nods, his eyes narrowed discerningly, “you always see the silver linings, don’t ya?” 
“I try,” you shrug. 
“Well, can I crash your walk? Could stand to stretch my legs.” 
You nod and hum, “that’s fine.” 
“Just fine?” 
“Lloyd,” you give him a look, “you’re more than welcome to walk with me.” 
You tuck your earbud case away. The left one is broken anyhow. He pulls the door open again and waves you out. 
He follows and catches up to you on the sidewalk. You walk down the pavement and breathe in the brisk air. You fix your beanie over your ears and slip your hands up your sleeves as you cross your arms. 
“Damn cold, isn’t it?” He puffs a cloud of steam into the air. 
“I can’t wait for the snow,” you say.  
Your father always loved the wintertime. You would watch the flakes drift down and build a snowman, even a tiny one if there wasn’t very much, and you’d have hot chocolate on the porch in your mittens and pajamas. And Christmas... 
You push away that thought. 
“You’re quiet? You alright?” He nudges you with his elbow. You flinch. You forgot he was there for a second. 
“I’m wonderful. How are you? How’s your ear?” 
“My ear...” he echoes. “You remember?” 
“Did you get it looked at? Does it still hurt?” 
“Yeah, it’s alright. Still a bit fuzzy on that side,” he shrugs. “It’s whatever. I’m a big boy.” 
“Right, but did a doctor say so or--” 
“You worry about me that much, tootsie?” He scoffs. 
“It’s important. You never know, could be worse than you think. And if it’s nothing at all, at least you know,” you say. You don’t want to nag him, even if you should have nagged your dad. Maybe... 
“No, I didn’t. Really, it’s not the first time I got a good blast to the ear,” he says. 
“Right,” you accept as you turn through the gate to the park. The arch is missing letters but it’s still beautiful. 
He sighs again and rubs his hands together. “God, I hate the cold.” 
“You should get gloves,” you uncross your arms and reach into your pocket, “I don’t know, mine might be too small.” 
You offer him the woolly mittens. He clicks his tongue, “that’s cute, definitely too small.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and chatters. You look at his jacket. You try to see the inside above the collar. “What are you doing?” He glances at you from the corner of his eye. 
“Is that lined?” You ask. 
“What?” 
“Your coat. Is there a lining in it? It looks thin.” 
“I’m just fine, mom, thanks,” he snips sharply. 
“Gosh, sorry, I just... I could sew a lining into it. I replaced the inserts in my boots too. It’s not that hard.” 
He furrows his brow, “it’s whatever. I spend most of the winter south. Right by the equator where it’s nice and sunny.” 
“Ooo, that sounds cool,” you say. “By the ocean?” 
“Surrounded by it,” he says nonchalantly. 
“Wow. I’ve never seen the ocean.” 
“You haven’t... tootsie, what’re ya doin’ to me? You’re lying.” 
“Nope,” you shake your head. “I’m sure one day I will. Is it pretty?” 
He looks at you and his nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath, “yeah, it’s... beautiful,” he looks ahead thoughtfully. “Guess I should pay more attention, but yeah, real blue and big and sh—stuff.” 
You bounce on your feet and stop suddenly. You hit his arm and point, “don’t scare him.” 
He nearly trips as you gesture to the little chipmunk on the broken bench. You can’t help a squee as it skitters onto the seat and glances around nervously. You squeeze Lloyd’s sleeve without thinking. 
“He’s so c-y-ute!” You say, “isn’t he?” 
He doesn’t answer right away but you’re too enamoured with the tiny critter to care. 
“Yea, super cute,” he agrees at last. 
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sunsdiary · 18 hours
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( @ ) PAINT IT BLACK ૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა . . .
toji fushiguro & gn reader · rockstar au · domestic fluff · hubby!toji · step-son!megumi · nail polish · family bonding
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"papa, still-" your three year old son slurs, his tottering hands finding the bottle of black nail polish that posed somewhere at the edge of the table. toji was lucky enough to see it in the corner of his eye and catch it with his spare, unvarnished hand when it tipped.
he let out a snort soon after, relieved to find it had not spilt a single drop on the floor, but instead, his clothes. that ease quickly washes out of his body and his mouth turns downward, a palm coming up to his forehead.
"kiddo, we have to be more careful..."
megumi turns his head up to his father through a glare and a pout, almost as if he was out of breath—not because the bottle had spilt on his daddy, but because he smudged his nails!
"you didn' 'tay still!!" his sulk deepens and he brings the older mans hand up to his little round face to inspect it, sticking one of his fingers in his mouth to wet it before rubbing around the cuticle of toji's nail. an achromatic shade instantly sticks to the underside of megumi's own nails before he reaches over and uses his dad as a towel to wipe off the rest.
toji grumbles and almost deadpans before he hears your laugh reach his ears, compelling him to turn to you with a face that screams 'help me'.
you stand from afar with a perceptive and loving gaze as your bubbly son catches his attention again. the dark ink of tattoos that litter his arm do more than enough to hide the polish anyways.
"have 'tart over!" he grumbles, "you bette' 'tay still this time, dumb dumb." he dips the polish brush back into the varnish again for a second attempt, having to stand up on the chair now just to be level with him.
toji watches him silently for the next few minutes, trying to keep as still as possible while leaning his freshly smudged hand against his cheek to avoid skin-to-nail contact. little wisps of his jet black hair fall over his forehead in waves, and you notice the dimples slowly curving into his cheeks when little megs looks up at him.
it was a moment of realisation that toji deserved the title of a great dad.
his eyebrows raise at the youngling in sarcastic delight when he shows him his finished product. toji hums.
"what cha think?"
megumi plonks his butt back onto the chair and awaits dads approval, his thumbs twiddling in his lap—they weren't obviously the most perfectly painted nails, but they'll wear off eventually around the corners over time.
"they're good, kiddo."
"wha you mean, good?" he blinks at him and slouches sadly. toji can see tears welling up in megumi's eyes when he looks back over at him and his mouth drops open in slight panic.
"they're great!"
he huffs, "don' lie to me, papa. i can take it!"
"papa ain't lying, bean."
"HMMPH!"
you then stealthily walk over behind toji, seizing his hands above his head that catches him by surprise. he leans back against the chair to look up at you momentarily, not sure what to articulate back but just stare into your eyes.
"you did this, sweetheart?!" you look away from toji and ask your son with sheer curiosity and animation. he nods his head frantically at you.
"mhm!"
"they look beautiful. i'm sure your papa appreciates them a lot, right?" you look down at your husband again and his ears turn red. he looks away from you and brings his arms back toward his body.
he lets out a cough.
"i love them, bean."
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talekinesis · 22 hours
Text
Random Gravity Falls Headcanons
Stan
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This guy smokes to help deal with the stress of everything. He picked up the habit after he was kicked out by his father and hasn't quit since. He used to be a chainsmoker but after getting to look after the kids for the summer, he drastically cut back and is actually thinking of quitting altogether because he wants to be around long enough to watch Mabel and Dipper grow up
Actually a pretty decent cook, it's just baking he sucks at. With cooking you can sort of eyeball the ingredients and add more or less depending on your own personal taste, but with how strict baking is with its ingredients, he never really picked it up. He's only baked a cake twice in his life, once for his mom when he was a kid, with the help of Ford, and once for the kids' birthday (it was lopsided and runny and they decided to just go out for pancakes instead)
He can play the guitar really well. He had to teach himself how to play when he was young and homeless, playing for tips. He still has his original guitar and occasionally, on a good day, will get it out and play it. He played it once for Mabel, who, for once in her life, actually sat still and listened
Part of his daily routine is kicking gnomes out of the trash because they keep trying to eat leftovers. He just bats them off with a broom like they're raccoons
He grew up a huge mama's boy since she was the only supportive parent he had. After he got kicked out of the house, he called her from a pay phone a couple times to ask to come back home and to wish her a happy birthday. To this day he still makes it a point to get a cupcake on her birthday since he can't celebrate it with her, and sometimes he'll tell the kids stories about her, like how she would have loved Mabel since Mabel has all these different unique sweaters, and his ma used to collect different, big, unique earrings
Stan coaches Mabel in boxing, and actually helped her discover a passion for it, he attends all of her matches. He even taught her a couple illegal moves that she can't use in the ring but can use in real self defense
Even in his early 60s, he still thinks it's funny to bother Ford as if they were still kids. He'll randomly snatch his glasses off his face (forgetting that he also wears glasses and Ford can retaliate), he'll just start copying Ford and repeat what he says, he once even dressed up as Ford, but it didn't last very long because Ford wears a much smaller size of pants, and Stan has a bit of a gut on him. He changed after about five or ten minutes.
He's a die-hard fan of Chappell Roan
He's actually the more responsible of the Stan-Twins. He breaks laws sure, but he always makes sure everyone is fed and safe. He's like this close 🤏 to putting Ford and Mabel on leashes when they go out because they have a tendency to run off
"I'd like to make an announcement to the store, I lost someone." "Oh, did your kid run off?" "My 60 year old brother, yeah. No he doesn't have a cellphone."
Has a biological kid out there somewhere but the mom cut him off. I just think the scene where he said, "Scary movies are great, the girl cuddles up next to ya... next thing you know you gotta raise a kid.. And your life falls apart.." sounded too much like he was speaking from experience and not as a hypothetical. He wants so badly to be a dad though and regrets not keeping contact. (let me know if I should make an oc for this :] )
Ford
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He can't eat doritos or any triangle shaped chip because one time Bill hid inside a chip bag just to startle him
It took him a while to adjust to this dimension's laws of physics. He was frustrated for a while that he couldn't just leave his coffee floating in the air. He broke three mugs and one of them was Stan's.
Despises pickles as if he held a personal grudge against them. He hates them an irrational amount, and even gets irritated with Stan for just having them in the house. He acts like a child about it too, arms crossed and everything. "Here, Poindexter, you want me to take the pickles off your sandwich? Like a child?" "Don't bother, the meal's ruined >:( "
He gets sucked into those soap operas that Stan watches, and will sometimes watch from the doorway or over his shoulder. He won't admit it, but Stan knows.
He lights his face on fire because he saw someone else do it in a different dimension where that was normal
Unlike Stan, he's actually amazing at baking (he likes to follow precise measurements and instructions) But sucks at cooking. Caught a pot of water on fire.
When he first discovered the shape shifter, he kept it as a pet because he found it cute, but ended up letting it go when he found out it had a human-like sentience and could speak. But for a while he raised it the same way Mabel raises Waddles, putting it in little shirts, hats, and just absolutely adoring it
Used to play 'Dungeons, Dungeons, and more Dungeons' with a group in college as the DM, and it was the first time he actually had a friend group. The other players loved the way he set things up
Doesn't like alchohol. At least from this dimension, he got used to alternate dimension alchohols that tasted way better, so when he came back to Earth everything tasted way too strong and almost like dirt to him so he just quit
Used to know a little banjo since Fiddleford taught him but forgot it while in other dimensions
Used to babysit Tate on occasion and sucked at it
He also used to babysit Shermie and *also* sucked at it. He'd have to pass him off to Stan if he got fussy or started crying since only Stan and their mom could calm him down
• Used to play David Bowie in his lab and would occasionally lip sync or dance to it. Even when traveling dimensions, he'd introduce David Bowie music to the people, creatures, and beings he met, until he lost the cassette tape and was devastated
Mabel
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Allergic to chocolate and makes up for it by eating way too much of other candies. She still tries to eat it though because "Maybe I'm not allergic anymore," but Dipper has to stop her. Stan even makes it a point not to keep chocolate in the Shack when they visit because he knows Mabel is a heathen with little self preservation. It's not epi-pen bad, but it will burn and itch her throat and get her coughing (Ford will use chocolate substitutes when baking for her and Dipper)
She likes to tell people that she and Dipper were originally two of three, and that she ate their triplet in the womb to become stronger. This is not true.
She wants to be a big sister really bad and sometimes that comes out onto Dipper despite him only being 5 minutes younger, much to his dismay and protest
She found a passion for boxing after Stan taught her how, and even asked her parents to let her start doing it as a sport, which she got really into. Coincidentally, after she picked up boxing, Gideon suddenly left her alone completely. Future Headcanon: She grows up to box professionally and one day even faces Grenda in the ring, but there's obviously a mutual respect between them. They agreed ahead of time that if they ever had to face each other, neither of them would hold back and it would be a fair match. Even after there's a winner, they meet up afterward and go out for dinner with Candy, who posts their matches to social media. Waddles is her mascot.
Mabel makes even more friends when she returns home from Gravity Falls because she takes Waddles for walks on a leash and it's a pretty good conversation starter
She is convinced that if she eats all the ingredients for a cake, she'll have successfully made a cake in her stomach. Once again, Dipper has to physically stop her from doing this. Ford does too, the first time he heard her say this (through a mouthful of flour) he went, "That certainly is an interesting theory, Mabel, but no-"
Dipper
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Let's get it out of the way, I really like the 'Trans Dipper' headcanon. It just fits really well and I, as a trans person, can relate to him a lot
I think he knows how to dance a little because his mom taught him and used to take him to 'Mother-Son' events
He secretly keeps a tally of how many times Mabel rolls herself out of bed because it always wakes him up but he also kind of thinks it's funny because she just sleeps through it. Even if they don't share rooms back at home, he can always here the distance "thunk" of his sister hitting the floor. The tally isn't a sheet of paper, it's a small notebook with multiple pages filled in
He sometimes gets the courage to try and roughhouse with Stan, who is always on board but purposely takes it easy on the kid because he's like "baby bird" fragile
Dipper was the one to break the news to his Grandpa Shermie that Stanley was still alive and Stanford was actually missing for 30 years with Stan taking his place, almost giving the poor man a heart attack. (Shermie ended up booking a flight to Gravity Falls to yell at his brothers in person because that's not a conversation you can have over the phone)
Dipper was the one to introduce Stan to Chappell Roan by accident, but now they listen to her if they're in the car together
his DD&MD character is a female orc fighter named Yotula and he got very excited to info-dump about her to Ford (who was equally as excited to listen)
Has an odd addiction to chocolate milk. He makes a glass of chocolate milk at least once a day. Twice if it's been a rough day. He actually gets a little upset if he misses his daily cup of chocolate milk, its just routine. Stan one time made an offhand joke that since Mabel's allergic, Dipper has to consume twice as much for the both of them, but Mabel took that seriously and now to her its just the truth.
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