#but he’s a little tearful and the sunlight is shining onto him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

itneverendshere · 11 days ago

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LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - TWELVE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mentions of severe anemia; pregnancy; abortion

💌MASTERLIST

Rafe rolled over, squinting against the sunlight breaking through the shitty broken blinds he'd meant to replace weeks ago. His phone buzzed on the nightstand, and before his eyes were even fully open, he swiped it up.

"Yeah?" His voice was a low growl, all gravel, and irritation.

The voice on the other end was professional. "Mr. Cameron? We’re calling to follow up on your father’s properties. There are a few—"

Fuck off.

Rafe cut them off with a sharp exhale, rubbing his temples.

He didn’t let them finish. "Yeah, I know what you’re calling about. I’m not dealing with that right now, okay? Call someone else."

"Sir, you are listed as—"

"I said call someone else," He snapped, hanging up before they could launch into another scripted response. He tossed the phone onto the mattress and stared at the ceiling, breathing hard.

It had been months since Ward died, and somehow, his name was heavier now than it ever was when he was alive. Everyone wanted something—answers, signatures, money. All things Rafe didn’t have or didn’t care to deal with.

The phone buzzed again. He grabbed it, ready to tell whoever it was where to stick their questions, but it was just a reminder about his plans with Topper. For half a second, he considered texting back: Can’t make it. Something came up.

But he doesn’t. Not yet.

Instead, he shoved himself upright, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and dropping his head into his hands.

The dream the call robbed him of was still vivid. For a moment, he forgot where he was—his room felt colder, and emptier, and the bed might as well have been a mile wide.

In the dream, you were eighteen again, and so was he. Back when things were simpler—or maybe just felt that way. Back before he’d ruined everything.

He could see it so clearly: the two of you sneaking out of some party you didn’t want to be at, your hand locked in his as you ducked through the dark streets. You’d been laughing, trying to shush him because he couldn’t stop cracking dumb jokes.

You ended up at the dock by your uncle’s boat. The stars were out, scattered across the sky like a million little promises. He remembered how you’d sat cross-legged on the wooden planks, your hair falling into your face as you smiled at him like he was the only person in the world.

The dock, your laugh, the stars—those were the good parts. But he remembers what you were going through back then, and it hit him all over again.

You’d just lost everything—your parents, your sister, gone in an instant. The private plane went down, and so did the life you’d always known. He remembers the way you’d talk about them—your family—late at night when it was just the two of you. Your voice would crack, and your eyes would shine with unshed tears, but you’d talk anyway. About your dad teaching you how to sail, your mom’s tenderness, the way your sister used to be your role model.

He hadn’t thought about those nights in years, but now they come rushing back, all tangled up with the dream. He still wasn’t strong enough for you back then. He let his own shit get in the way, let his insecurities and his anger twist everything good between you over the years. And when he walked away, he left you to deal with the wreckage of your life and his own cowardice.

He threw on a shirt, and some old shorts, didn’t even bother fixing his hair. No one was going to care—not like anyone was looking to him for anything these days anyway. He stomped down the stairs, rubbing at the back of his neck, pretending like he didn’t spend the night dreaming of your face.

Wheezie was at the kitchen counter, cereal in front of her, scrolling her phone.

She didn’t glance up when she heard him, "You look like shit."

Aw, nothing like a teenager.

"Good mornin’ to you too," Rafe grumbled, heading for the fridge. He grabbed a bottle of water, unscrewing the cap like it had personally offended him, “You’re really settling in, huh?"

Wheezie snorted, not looking up from her phone. "Rose stuck me here with you. What else am I supposed to do? I’m just trying to survive."

“It’s two days."

He hadn’t exactly planned on babysitting Wheezie while Rose was out of the country, he hadn’t planned on much lately

"Two days too many," she shot back, smirking. "You going somewhere?"

Rafe slammed the fridge shut, twisting the cap off his water.

"Why are you stomping around like that?"

"Not fuckin’ stomping," Rafe muttered, leaning against the counter.

"You are," she scowled, shoving a spoonful of cereal into her mouth. "You sound like a baby elephant."

Rafe glared at her, but she just shrugged, unfazed. "You’re up early. What’s the occasion?"

"Just woke up, okay?" he snapped.

"Jeez, someone’s in a mood," Wheezie rolled her eyes. "What’s your deal?"

"No deal." He took a long sip of water, staring out the window.

"Can you drop me off later?" she changed the topic, her tone too casual to be innocent.

Rafe side-eyed her. "Drop you off where?"

"Poguelandia.”

His hand froze halfway to the trash can. "You’re kiddin’."

"Nope," Wheezie said, popping the “p.” She didn’t even look at him, scrolling on her phone like this was just a normal request.

"You know Sarah’s there, right?"

"Yeah, that’s kinda the point," Wheezie finally met his glare. "She texted me. Wants to hang out."

Rafe scoffed, tossing the empty water bottle into the trash. "Since when are you and Sarah talkin’?"

"Since forever," Wheezie pursed her lips, "Just because you two can’t stand each other doesn’t mean I can’t hang out with her. Also," She adds, "there’s a party happening later. Like, nothing crazy, but… y’know."

He hadn’t been around much for his little sister lately—shit, not for a long time, if he was honest with himself. After their dad died, he kind of just… checked out. Too much of his own crap to deal with. But Wheezie didn’t ask for any of that.

"Nothing crazy," Rafe repeated flatly, his arms crossed.

"Relaxxxx,” She shoved another spoonful of cereal into her mouth. "Just drop me off. I’ll figure out a ride back."

He rubbed a hand over his face, groaning. "Wheeze, do you even know what you’re walking into? Pogues don’t fuck with us."

"I wonder why….” She hummed, waving him off. “I’ll be fine, they don’t hate me."

"Yeah, well, they hate me."

"Good thing I’m not you.” Wheezie fired back, hopping off the stool.

Yeah, good thing.

"And it’s not just a party. I’m visiting Sarah, too."

"Yeah, I heard you the first time," Rafe rolled his eyes, "Here’s the deal: I’ll drop you off—"

She perked up, her face lighting with hope.

"—but on one condition," he cut in, smirking just enough to make her suspicious.

He hadn’t really spent time with her in ages—not since Ward died. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, it was just…easier not to. Easier to stay away, to let the silence pile up.

The real issue was that, for the longest time, he’s been gone for a reason. He didn’t want to be here. It was easier to be numb by being drunk or high. It wasn’t that he didn’t love his sister—it was just that it was too painful, and complicated.

Yesterday, his therapist had told him to invest time in his sisters. To be there for them, to reconnect, because they were his only real family left. Whezzie he could do, Sarah?

Only time would tell.

You have to show up for the people you love. Even if it scares you.

It scared the shit out of him, honestly.

"What?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

"You come with me and Topper on the boat first," he said, folding his arms tighter like he’s already won.

Wheezie groaned, slumping back in her chair. "Seriously? What part of not showing up on a yatch is this?”

“Take it or leave it.”

“Why? So I can sit there and listen to you two talk about girls you’ll never get and beer brands you can’t pronounce?"

Rafe glared at her. "It’s not up for debate. You wanna go to fuckass poguelandia? You’re comin’ with us. End of story."

At least he was trying—trying to do something for her, to make up for the time he’d lost, the ways he’d been absent or worse. Even if he still sounded like an asshole most of the time.

"Fine. Whatever. I’ll go with you and Topper. But you owe me big time.”

The whole idea of being present was terrifying, it ruined him when he was a teenager, but he couldn’t keep hiding from it. There was nothing left to hide behind.

“I’ll buy that stupid cereal you like.”

"Lucky me."

"Alright, smartass," He grabbed a mug and filled it with coffee, trying to ignore her smug look. "What do you even eat besides cereal? You’re gonna starve or some shit.”

"I’ll survive. You, on the other hand…" she trailed off, gesturing vaguely at his unkempt pantry. "You look like you could use a babysitter."

Rafe let the corners of his mouth twitch. "You’re an asshole, y'know that?"

“You’re my brother, what did you expect?”

It was just the two of them in his big, empty condo. He might not have been much of a role model—or even a decent older brother—but for the next two days, he could try.

“You’re the worst,” she grumbled, grabbing her phone off the counter.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Rafe said dismissively, turning toward the door. “Be ready in ten.”

Wheezie, rolling her eyes so hard he thought they might fall out of her head, stomped back upstairs, probably to change into something less “little sister on a boat” and more “teen rebel” or whatever the fuck kid’s liked these days. She could dress however she wanted as long as she didn’t make him regret dragging her into this.

Rafe leaned against the truck while he waited for his sister. His arms were crossed, his fingers drumming against his bicep in a nervous rhythm. It wasn’t about the boat—he didn’t even know why he’d suggested it. Maybe it was just an excuse to keep her close for a little longer before dropping her into pogue territory. He missed her.

An hour later, he was pulling the truck into the dock’s gravel lot, the tires crunching as he rolled to a stop. Topper was already there, lounging on the boat, a beer in one hand and sunglasses perched low on his nose.

Wheezie hopped out of the truck before Rafe even had a chance to cut the engine. “God, does he ever not look like a wannabe country club poster boy?”

Rafe smirked as he climbed out.

“Rafe! Wheezie!” Topper called out, spreading his arms wide like he was greeting royalty. “What’s up, losers?”

Wheezie snorted, marching toward the boat. “Nice shorts. Did Vineyard Vines have a clearance sale, or did you just raid your dad’s closet?”

“Stop being ruthless,” Topper glanced down at his pastel pink swim trunks, feigning offense. “These are a classic.”

“A classic embarrassment,” she fake gagged, stepping onto the boat.

Rafe followed her, shaking his head. “Play nice.”

“Fantastic,” Topper drawled, “There’s two of you today.”

“You make it too easy.” Whezzie dropped onto one of the cushioned seats and leaned back, pulling her sunglasses down over her eyes. “What’s the plan, Captain Douchebag?”

Topper raised his beer in a mock toast. “The plan is sailing.”

“Wow. Revolutionary.”

Rafe chuckled, untying the boat and giving it a shove off the dock. “Just sit back and relax, Wheez. We’ll drop you off later.”

Topper’s head snaps up, “Drop her off where?”

"Where do you think?" Rafe leaned over to check the boat's engine. He didn't bother looking at Topper, already waiting for the inevitable reaction, “Sarah's.”

"Wait, wait, wait," Topper held up a hand like he was stopping traffic. "You're taking her to Poguelandia? Are you out of your mind?"

"It's not your problem," Rafe grumbled, starting the engine. The low hum drowned out part of Topper's rant, but not enough to miss the gist.

"Not my problem? Dude, the second you step foot over there, it's everyone's problem. She’s there too, y’know? Stopped by earlier to make peace…She changed her gate’s code. And the lock.”

The gate code. The lock.

He couldn’t get it out of his head.

For years, it had been the same—just like the keys he used to have to your place. Just days ago, the gate had swung open just like it always did, the same code he’d memorized like it was second nature.

You hadn’t changed the code, hadn’t swapped the locks. He’d half convinced himself it meant something, maybe you weren’t ready to fully let him go, either.

Rafe’s hands stilled on the throttle. He tried to keep his expression neutral, but his jaw tightened all the same. Topper, of course, noticed immediately.

"See? This is what I’m talking about," Topper leaned back in his seat, spreading his arms like he was laying out some grand revelation. "Where do you think she’s staying at? It’s fuckin’ obvious. We show up, and it’s gonna stir shit up.”

It was almost like you’d left the door cracked open for him. Just enough to make him believe there was still a chance. Now he wasn’t so sure. Had his visit been the final straw? Had the sight of him standing on the other side of your door—looking desperate and pathetic—been the thing that made you decide to shut him out completely?

You didn’t let him in, but you’d opened up the door. After everything he’d put you through, it was your way of protecting yourself. Shutting the door so he couldn’t come crashing back in.

Topper’s voice snapped him back to reality, “You even listening to me, man?”

Rafe blinked, forcing himself to re-focus on the boat’s controls.

“Yeah. I heard you. ’m not staying. Just dropping her off."

“We’re dead meat.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Topper knew better than to keep talking, the conversation ended there.

For the next twenty minutes, the boat cruised over the water, Rafe kept on steering, letting Topper and Wheezie chatter away behind him. He wasn't really listening—hadn't been for most of the trip—but every now and then, Wheezie's laughter or Topper's exaggerated storytelling pulled him back just enough to remind him they were still there.

When they finally dropped anchor near the sandbar, Topper leaned back, cracking open another beer as he stretched out under the sun.

"Alrigh’, who wants to make a toast? First outing of the month, gotta celebrate properly!"

Rafe shook his head, pulling a bottle of water from the cooler instead. He twisted off the cap and took a long sip, ignoring the way Topper raised a brow at him.

"Wait a second," Topper said, sitting up slightly. "You're not drinking?"

The fact his best friend sounded surprised was reason enough to stay sober. He didn’t like being scrutinized.

"Nah," He waived off, leaning back against the seat and letting the sun warm his face.

He’d made the choice not to drink before they even left the dock, but it didn’t stop the instinct—the small urge to crack open a beer and let the eventual numbness take over like it usually did.

Topper looked between the beer in his hand and Rafe, "You serious? Could've told me, wouldn’t have brought all this shit."

“Yeah, sure you wouldn’t have.”

"Fair," Topper admitted, "Still, man. That's… good. Like, really good."

Wheezie, who had been scrolling on her phone, perked up at the exchange. "Yeah, Rafe. I think it's awesome."

Proud. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had said that to him. Maybe you, but it had been a long time since anyone had looked at him and seen something worth being proud of.

He shrugged, “It’s not a big deal.”

But it kind of was. Because sitting there, sober and fully present for the first time in months, he realized it didn’t feel as bad as he thought it would. He’d been drinking non-stop—first to deal with his dad’s death, then to quiet the guilt, and then to forget you.

The therapist had called it “self-medicating.” Rafe had scoffed when she first said it, she didn’t know what she was talking about, but the longer the sessions went on, the harder it was to deny. Drinking had become a way to drown out the memories and feelings he didn’t know how to face.

The therapist had suggested he take a break from drinking, just for a while. “You don’t have to stop forever,” she’d said. “Just give yourself a chance to feel what’s really going on.”

Yeah, because that sounded like fucking fun. Sitting with his feelings.

But something about today felt different. He couldn’t explain it—maybe it was Wheezie’s not hating spending time with him after all the stunts he pulled, or the way Topper had thrown himself into planning this trip like he was trying to cheer him up—but for once, he didn’t feel like drowning himself in alcohol.

It wasn’t like drinking had helped anyway, if anything, it made it worse. The mornings after, when the hangover hit and he couldn’t even look at himself in the mirror, let alone call you to apologize for everything he’d done wrong.

So, yeah. Maybe the therapist had a point.

He glanced at the cooler full of beers and liquor that Topper had dragged aboard. “Don’t feel like it today.”

Topper was still eyeing him like he was an alien, while Wheezie had gone back to scrolling her phone, but every now and then, she'd glance up at him, like she was checking to see if he was still there—if he was still him.

"Alright, enough of the sentimental shit," Topper declared, "Let’s make this a proper day. Who’s up for some wakeboarding?"

Wheezie groaned, flopping back dramatically. "You two are so predictable. Wakeboarding, really? What’s next, golf? A steak dinner? Gonna break out the cigars and talk about how much you love cripto?"

Rafe snorted, tossing a towel at her. "Wheez, you screamed your head off last time you tried it."

“Yeah, because I nearly died!" she threw the towel right back at him.

"You were fine.”

“You said I was fine while I was choking on lake water.”

Rafe smirked, standing up to adjust the rope for the wakeboard. “Builds character.”

“Builds trauma,” she retorted, kicking her flip-flops off and stretching her legs out over the seat. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you when I’m suing your ass.”

“Good luck with that.”

She tilted her chin up with a satisfied grin, “I can now, thank you very much. I’m an adult.”

“You turned eighteen two weeks ago. Chill with the big-girl talk.”

Topper cracked up from the other side of the boat, pointing his beer at her like it was a microphone. “She’s got you there, big bro. Maybe let her drive the boat next.”

Wheezie perked up instantly. “Wait, can I?”

“No,” Rafe deadpanned.

“Why not?” she whined, her entire body deflating.

“Because last time you tried, you almost ran over a dock,” Rafe tugged the line to make sure it was secure.

“Okay, that was one time, and I was learning,” Wheezie argued. “You’ve done way dumber stuff.”

Topper leaned over, watching the exchange like it was the most entertaining thing he’d seen all week. “This is amazing. You guys should fight more often.”

“Shut up,” Rafe and Wheezie said in unison, which only made Topper laugh harder.

The afternoon passed quickly, filled with sun, water, and Wheezie’s relentless commentary. She refused to try wakeboarding again, opting instead to sunbathe and heckle them from the safety of the boat. Rafe couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard her laugh so much—or the last time he’d felt this calm.

As the sun dipped lower, painting the water in shades of gold, Rafe slowed the boat to a gentle drift. Wheezie was sprawled out with her headphones in, her phone propped up on her stomach. Topper had passed out in the corner, his sunglasses slipping down his nose. Rafe sat at the helm, one hand resting on the wheel, the other dangling over the side. The cool water lapped at his fingertips, calming him in a way he hadn’t felt in years.

For once, he wasn’t thinking about the mistakes he’d made or the people he’d lost. He wasn’t drowning in guilt or regret. He was just… there, present. It didn’t feel as bad as he thought it would

Rafe cut the engine as the boat drifted closer to the dock. The sight of Sarah’s house on the Cut came into view. It wasn’t a kook mansion or some pristine estate—just a house that Sarah and her friends had claimed for herself.

The second the boat bumped against the dock, Wheezie sprang up, tugging her bag over her shoulder. Rafe was quick to follow, throwing the rope around a cleat to tie them off.

“You’re not getting off, are you?” Wheezie asked, looking over her shoulder with her brows furrowed.

Rafe stepped off the boat, sneakers hitting the creaky dock with a purpose. She rolled her eyes when she realized he wasn’t staying behind like she hoped.

“You don’t need to come,” she grumbled, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

“Yeah, I do,” Rafe said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Not letting you walk in there alone.”

“She’s our sister, not some random stranger,” Wheezie stomped down the dock.

She might as well have been.

Rafe grabbed the bag she was struggling with and followed her toward the weathered building at the end of the pier. Sarah’s place wasn’t just a house; it was a business. A small café-slash-bait shop that catered to the locals. The painted sign hanging over the front door read Cut Cafe in faded lettering, with a little drawing of a fish under it.

He hated it.

Not because it wasn’t nice, but because it wasn’t theirs. It was Sarah’s—a piece of her new life that had nothing to do with him or Wheezie or anything resembling their family. Another reminder of how far he hadn’t gone.

If he was being honest—something he rarely let himself do—he missed her. Not the Sarah she was now, but the sister she used to be, before the huge fights, before she looked at him like he was some kind of monster. Before Ward.

But that was the thing, wasn’t it? Ward had made sure Rafe would never get to have what Sarah did. She was the golden child, Dad’s favorite. And Rafe—he was just there, a constant disappointment.

It wasn’t that he hated her; it was that he hated what she represented.

Approval he’d never get, a life he wasn’t good enough for.

It was ironic, really. He used to resent Sarah for being Ward’s favorite.

Now he resented her for being yours.

Rafe scowled as the sound of the party reached his ears, even from the dock. Music thumped loud enough to vibrate the air, shouted conversations, and the occasional crash of something—probably a bottle—shattering.

Someone let out a loud whoop, followed by the unmistakable sound of people chanting for a keg stand. Rafe pinched the bridge of his nose, his patience thinning with every passing second. He wasn’t in the mood for this juvenile shit.

“You're way too comfortable here,” he scoffed under his breath as Wheezie marched ahead, her steps confident. It pissed him off more than it should have.

“Maybe because Sarah doesn’t treat me like I’m still twelve,” Wheezie shot back, smirking at him over her shoulder.

Rafe ignored the jab, his eyes scanning the small crowd outside.

A couple of Pogues lingered near the porch, laughing over beers and baskets of fries. Their relaxed, judgmental stares followed him like they could smell the kook entitlement on him from a mile away. He bristled, tightening his grip on Wheezie’s bag.

She bounded up the steps and pushed open the door, the bell above it jingling. He hesitated for half a second before following her inside, knowing he was going to regret ever stepping foot in this place.

The air smelled like beer, fried food, and sunscreen. Behind the counter, Sarah stood with her back to them, her hair tied up in a loose bun.

Wheezie cleared her throat loudly. “Hey, Sar!”

Sarah turned, her smile faltering the second she saw Rafe lurking behind Wheezie. Her expression hardened. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you too,” Rafe said dryly, crossing his arms.

“I told Wheezie to come by. Not you.” Sarah’s eyes flicked to Wheezie, softening just slightly. “You didn’t need to bring a bodyguard.”

“I wasn’t gonna let her wander around here by herself,” Rafe shot back, his voice low and defensive. He hated the way Sarah’s words hurt, hated that her disapproval still got under his skin after all this time.

Sarah rolled her eyes, wiping her hands on her apron as she stepped out from behind the counter. “Wander? She’s not a toddler. She knows how to get here. It’s safe.”

Wheezie stood between them, looking like she was torn between laughing and rolling her eyes so hard she might fall over. “Okay, can you two stop? It’s embarrassing.”

Sarah sighed, brushing past Rafe as if he wasn’t even there.

“Whatever. You can go now. Wheezie’s fine here.”

He stood awkwardly near the door, arms crossed, glaring at the locals who cast curious glances his way. It wasn’t worth staying.

Wheezie was safe.

Sarah would make sure of that, whether she hated him or not.

With a sigh, hr pushed open the door and stepped back out onto the porch, letting the door slam behind him. He took a deep breath of salty air, rubbing the back of his neck.

He’d barely made it to the dock when he spotted someone climbing off the boat—

“Dude,” Rafe’s brow furrowed as his friend stepped onto the creaking wood. “Thought you were scared shitless of this place.”

“I’m not scared,” Topper lied through his teeth.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, “Right.”

“We ran out of snacks on the boat, and I’m starving, figured I’d raid the stash at the party.”

“Snacks?”

“I’m starving!” Topper argued, throwing his hands up. “And unless you brought a secret bag of chips somewhere, this is my best shot!”

He sighed, knowing there was nothing he could do to change Topper's mind. “Hurry up.”

“Relax, I’ll be two minutes!"

He watched Topper jog away, sighing and leaning against one of the wooden posts.

You were probably in there, somewhere. Laughing, maybe, or smiling that smile he used to wake up to, a smile that used to be for him.

Now, it was for everyone but him.

He tried not to think about you, but that was like telling the ocean not to rise and fall with the stupid tides. Therapy had taught him to sit with his feelings, to not let them rot into something worse, but he was just starting and you weren’t just the girl he loved.

You were the only person who had ever seen him for more than his name, his mistakes, or the wreckage Ward Cameron had left in his wake. You didn’t just tolerate him; you chose him, since day one.

He didn’t deserve you, not then, not even now.

The sound of footsteps broke his focus.

“About time,” Rafe muttered, turning. But it wasn’t Topper.

Sofia stumbled into view, her dark hair wild and face flushed. Her hand gripped the railing for support as she swayed slightly.

He frowned, mildly concerned, “What the f—are you okay?”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and frantic. “Y-You need to go get Topper. Right n-now.”

His first thought was that she might’ve come here to throw some drunken, slurred insults his way.

The last time they'd spoken, things had ended...He didn’t even know how to classify that mess. But it didn't look like she was there to slam him with any guilt-trips or hurtful words.

She just looked scared.

“What?” His brows knit together as he stepped toward her, “What are you talking about? Are you drunk?”

Sofia waved him off, her breathing panicked. “The T-thorntons.”

That stopped him cold.

“What about them?”

She tried to grab his arm, her eyes wide, “They’re fighting. It’s bad.”

“Fighting?”

It couldn't be just some random fight; this had everything to do with the bullshit Topper had pulled.

Shit.

Rafe wasn’t even sure if he could fix it. Could he? You hated him too, and no matter how hard he tried, it seemed like you’d never forgive him for everything he’d fucked up. But Topper—Rafe didn’t even have to think twice.

He knew you, how you were when you’d had enough. You weren’t the type to lose your shit unless it was really bad.

He gritted his teeth, knowing full well that when you finally let it out, it was never just a “throw a drink and move on” kind of thing. Nah, when you lost it, it was like you’d been holding all this shit in for way too long and finally decided you weren’t gonna take it anymore.

He knew exactly what you were pissed about.

Topper. Of course. And him. Fuck.

He hated it.

The way your voice would rise when you finally let everything out.

You weren’t someone who yelled, but when you did? Jesus fucking Christ, it hit different. Rafe could never prepare himself fully for that kind of fury, especially when it was aimed at him.

He hated seeing you like this, especially when he knew it was because of him. But it was his fault, wasn’t it?

Rafe’s thoughts were a mess as he followed Sofia, who was clearly way over tipsy, stumbling a little, but she was still trying to explain, voice slurring a bit from the alcohol.

“You gotta understand—she was helping me. I wasn’t feeling so great, right? M-my head was spinning, I don’t know… I just needed a little space. But then Topper walked in and he...S-she just lost it.”

He wasn’t even surprised when she mentioned that you’d been helping her out. Of course you would.

You always had that side to you. Even when you were pissed, even when you hated people, you couldn’t help but step in when someone was in need. You hated Sofia, and everyone knew it. You hated the fact that she’d come around right after he’d fucked everything up with you. You hated how fast she seemed to take your place, even though Rafe didn’t want to admit it to himself either.

Still, there you were, trying to make sure Sofia was okay, again. It made him feel like shit. Not just because you were still holding it together when he couldn’t, but because he knew the whole fucking reason you probably didn’t want anything to do with Sofia—because of how it’d felt when he’d jumped into something else so quickly, so recklessly, after breaking your heart.

The sound of raised voices reached him before he even saw you. He could hear the anger in your voice. There was no mistaking it: you were pissed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen you this way, and it fucked with his gut. You didn’t lose control easily. You never let anyone see the mess, the shit you were going through.

Now you were ripping into Topper in a way that made his blood run cold. He rounded the corner and saw you, hands flailing, and he couldn’t help but wonder: When was the last time anyone stepped up for you? It certainly hadn’t been him. Not the way he should’ve.

And then, of course, there was Topper. He could see the look on his face—guilt, embarrassment. But it wasn’t going to be enough. You had to work through it yourself.

Your shoulders were tense, the way you stood, like you could snap anyone who walked through that door in half if they so much as blinked the wrong way, was all too familiar.

Your cousin was standing in front of you, trying to apologize like it was gonna fix anything, but you weren’t hearing it. No, you were done with that shit.

Topper wipped his hands down his ruined shirt, green smears of guacamole spreading across the fabric. “I fucked up.”

“No shit,” you hissed, “You don’t get to come back from this. You have no idea how fucking sick I am of you—” Hands shaking as you shoved him back, your words coming out in short bursts, "You're the fucking worst. How could you—"

You were about to throw something—probably another drink—when your eyes snapped over to Rafe.

For a fraction of a second, he thought he saw your breath hitch. You froze, eyes wide for a second, and then your expression soured.

Your lip quivered before you sucked in a breath and squared your shoulders.

"Not you too,” you sneered, throwing your hands in the air as the world had just dropped another pile of shit on your already full plate. “Oh my fucking god, seriously?"

Your face was flushed with anger, lips twisted in a snarl. You were so fucking beautiful, even when you were fuming. He could see the fire in your eyes, that same spark he’d fallen for all those years ago. You were just... you. And it was killing him.

He was so fucked.

“All of you—” You spit out, “I should’ve known better. I did know better, but I was stupid. So fucking stupid.”

He couldn’t think straight when you looked at him like that, when you had that look in your eyes. Even in the middle of a fight, it was so goddamn hard to look away.

You weren’t just a memory to him anymore. You were right in front of him, and he couldn’t even breathe straight.

Rafe’s throat tightened, feeling something that wasn’t just anger or regret or confusion. He felt longing. He longed to hear your voice, all the time, longed for those mornings when you’d be pressed against him, all warm, the world outside his shitty room irrelevant.

He missed the simple stuff.

He missed your face, the way you’d look at him with that irritation and affection.

It hit him harder than anything had in months—how much time had passed since he last saw that pretty face smile at him like you used to. Since he last kissed your forehead while you fell asleep next to him, since you last fit so perfectly into his arms that he didn’t want to let go.

He didn’t even know how to start getting that back.

He left. Over and over again.

Rafe registered another drink splashing across Topper’s face a little too late, the sound of the liquid hitting his skin pulling him out of his trance. He blinked a few times, the moment dragging back to the mess in front of him.

You weren’t done, though, as if throwing the drink wasn’t enough, you whipped a bowl of guacamole from the table and hurled it at Topper’s face. It splattered across his shirt, leaving a sticky, green mess in its wake.

He didn’t even flinch, still apologizing, still taking it.

“Sis—”

“I don’t want some bullshit excuse! You were supposed to be my family. You were supposed to—” You exhaled sharply, shaking your head because you couldn’t fathom finishing the thought.

And then—slap, slap, slap—you were hitting his arms, frustration flashing across your face as you let him have it.

Your cousin stood there like a fucking idiot, wiping guac off his face, trying to stammer out some kind of half-assed apology.

“You had no right,” you spat, voice breaking on the words. “None. You don’t just walk in here and act like everything’s fine after what you—” your words choked in your throat. You threw another plate, “You had no right!”

Rafe saw it all, saw the tears ready to spill as you wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand. You weren’t crying yet, but he knew that was about to change. And when it did, it was going to hurt worse than the yelling, worse than the throwing.

Before you could even get another word out, Rafe was there, stepping in between you and Topper, his body tense, preparing himself for something, maybe a few slaps across the face, a drink if you felt generous. You didn’t have to say a word, he could sense it in the way your lips quivered, the way your shoulders shook.

“You need to calm down,” He told you tenderly, though it wasn’t a demand—it was more of a desperate plea.

You didn’t listen.

Instead, you shoved him out of the way, the tears starting to slip down your cheeks, but you didn’t even bother to wipe them away.

“Get out,” you snapped, "Move.”

Rafe didn’t budge, he was here for you, he never stopped fucking choosing you even when he had no right to. He remained still, staring down at you with those blue eyes that had always known you better than anyone.

“Fuck, not like this,” Rafe muttered under his breath, stepping forward once more, this time blocking your path before you could reach Topper again. His hands were gentle on your shoulders as he held you back, “Please, stop.”

You froze, eyes wide, like you couldn’t believe it—you hadn’t been expecting him to step in, hadn’t been expecting him of all people to be the one to try and talk you out of it.

Rafe’s heart dropped when he saw the way your body was starting to shake. You were spiraling, he could see it coming—he'd been here before. The way your breath hitched, how your eyes turned glassy.

He still knew the signs all too well.

His hands shot out instinctively, grabbing your arms, trying to hold you still, "Hey, hey, calm down," he muttered, his voice soothing, "You're gonna make yourself worse if you don’t stop."

He could feel the rapid pulse under your skin, the way your body tensed like a coiled spring, and he didn’t give a fuck that you still hated him.

"Look at me," he coaxed, "Please, just breathe with me. You know this ain't gonna help. You gotta breathe."

Rafe’s heart broke all over again as you crumbled in front of him, damn it, he should’ve been there. He should’ve been there when this all fell apart, when you needed someone to hold you together instead of pushing you away.

He hated seeing you like this.

"I’m right here," he said again, softer this time, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

Topper stood there, eyes wide, not sure what to do, his face pale as he watched you fall apart in front of Rafe.

Sofia, still drunk and disoriented, caught the look in his eyes and quietly grabbed his arm, “We need to go," she whispered, nudging him, "T-this isn’t helping her."

Topper’s eyes moved to you, and then to Rafe, you could see it in his expression—the guilt, the regret. His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

Rafe shot him a look, one that said everything—get out.

Your cousin, wiped his face before he took a few steps back. "I’m sorry," he muttered, eyes darting between you and Rafe. "I’m so sorry.”

He turned away like a dog with his tail between his legs, Sofia following him without saying much, leaving you.

Rafe barely paid them any mind, his entire focus on you, his hands still holding yours, as he watched you try to calm your breathing.

He pulled you closer, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath mingling with yours as he whispered again, "Not going anywhere. I’m here, swear to God, I’m here."

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him fully, not caring if he was blocking the view of anyone else, not caring if things were a fucking mess—he only cared about getting you back to yourself.

He could feel it in his chest, every shitty thing that had piled up, every moment no one had your back when you needed it most.

You didn’t pull away. Maybe it was the anger finally burning out or the exhaustion catching up to you, but for a moment, you let him hold you. Your chest heaved as you fought for control, but your weight sagged against his hands.

His hands loosened their grip, his thumb brushing against your arm without him even realizing it. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to risk letting go because God knew if he’d ever get this close to you again.

You’re safe. You’re okay. I’ve got you.

He didn’t deserve it—not even a little, but he couldn’t let go, you needed someone, even if it wasn’t really him you wanted anymore.

Rafe could sense the way your breathing came out as almost pants against his chest. Every little tremor sent a pang through his chest, like someone had grabbed his ribs and squeezed until it hurt to breathe.

What the fuck was wrong with him? Why hadn’t he fought harder?

Rafe rested his cheek against your hair, closing his eyes as he let himself feel it—the weight of you leaning on him. The smell of your perfume, faint but still the same as always. He felt like a fucking thief, stealing this moment from you when he had no right. You didn’t want this from him, didn’t need this from him.

He wished he could take it all back, erase every mistake, the fight, every stupid decision that had pushed you to this point. If he could trade places with you, take all the pain and carry it himself, he would. In a heartbeat.

You took one shuddering breath, then another. It was enough for him to feel like maybe he’d done something right for once. Maybe he could—

“Get your hands off me.”

Rafe barely moved. His grip slackened, but he didn’t let go, didn’t step away like you wanted.

You pushed at his chest, but he didn’t budge. “I said get your fucking hands off me.”

“Not happenin’,” He swallowed hard, his pulse thrumming against his throat, but he didn’t loosen his grip. “You’re not okay.”

“Go fuck yourself. You don’t get to decide that—”

Your voice cracked, and the sound of it nearly knocked the will to live from his body. He’d always known your tells, had always been able to read you better than you liked.

Rafe’s hands twitched, and then he moved them, moving like he was about to let you go—but then you did it.

You curled your arms around yourself, your fingers gripping the fabric of your dress, right over your stomach. Protective.

Fuck.

Could it be? It was an unconscious gesture, you probably didn’t realize you’d made, but to him, it might as well have been a fucking confession.

Rafe felt his body lock up, every muscle going rigid as the pieces fell into place.

Fuck fuck fuck. Topper was right, wasn't he?

His throat went dry, he managed to croak out, “You’re—”

“No,” you snapped immediately, your fingers tightening on your dress, but you wouldn’t look at him.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I don’t need you.”

He knew he was losing you.

Rafe exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. “Bullshit.”

“Fuck you. You don’t get to— say shit like that. You don’t get to—” Your breathing hitched, and you bit down on the inside of your cheek.

“To what? To give a shit?”

He waited, watching, hoping, praying—please look at me, baby, please—but you didn’t move.

You scoffed, a bitter sound.

“You don’t care. You just don’t like the idea of—” Your breath caught, but you swallowed it down, pushing past the lump in your throat. “You don’t like the idea of me making a choice that doesn’t involve you.”

He hadn’t breathed properly since he saw your hands gripping your stomach, hiding yourself from him like you thought he was something to be afraid of. Like you thought he wouldn’t love you.

You thought he wouldn’t fucking stay.

“I love you.”

He barely recognized his own voice when he said it, but it was the only thing he could spill out. He swore to God he saw your left eye twitch at the confession, he knew what came next, but he’d never been good at shutting up when he should when it came to you.

“I do,” he insisted, “And I know I don’t—I don’t deserve to say that. I don’t deserve to expect anything from you.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “But I need you to know it.”

You clenched your jaw.

“I fucked up, I know. I fucked up so bad.”

You turned your head to the side, blinking up at the ceiling, refusing to spare him a glance. “I don’t want you to fix it.”

“I know,” he said immediately. “I know, but I can’t—I can’t just let you go through this alone.”

Your chest rose and fell too quickly, your breath uneven, but still—you stood your ground. “I don’t need you.”

“Please don’t say that,” he nearly dropped to his knees. “Please.”

You looked at him, since he’d realized what this meant, you lifted your head, met his gaze—really met it.

And shit—It nearly destroyed him, because he knew that look.

“Where the fuck were you, Rafe? Kissing her two months after we ended? Huh—” Your breath shuddered, and you shook your head, stepping back, “You didn’t even wait. You just—just moved the fuck on like I never even mattered—”

“It wasn’t like that—”

"Did you fuck her?" Your lips curled into a faux smile. "That’s what I thought."

"No,” He added quickly, shaking his head like the thought alone disgusted him, "No, I didn’t."

You chuckled disbelieving. "Don’t lie to me."

"I’m not," he said, stepping closer despite the way your body went rigid. "I didn’t touch her like that. I swear to God."

"But you wanted to, right?"

His head moved so fast it gave him whiplash, "No. The only person I’ve ever wanted is you.”

You scoffed, “That’s real sweet, real fucking poetic.”

“I let my own shit get in the way, and I hurt you. But I swear to God, I’ve never stopped loving you.”

“That supposed to make me feel better? You fucked off to play house with some other girl,” You swallowed hard, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Why were you there with her? Why did you let me think—"

"Because I’m a fucking assshole," he admitted, "I was trying to forget you, okay? But I couldn’t. No matter what I did, it was always you."

“Fuck you.” You snickered. “Where were you when I finally got my internship? The one I worked for, the one I wanted so bad?” You shook your head, “You didn’t even text me. Not once.”

His throat was tight, his pulse hammering, because he had thought about it—so many times, so many nights staring at his phone, fingers hovering, but he hadn’t.

Rafe’s heart plummeted.

“I—”

“You what? You forgot?”

His nails bit into his palms, “I—”

“You don’t get to speak,” you seethed, you eyes burning through him. “You don’t get to fucking say you care when you weren’t there, when you didn’t even fucking check if I was okay.

"I'm sorry."

"Where the fuck were you,” you whispered, voice shaking with grief, “when I found out I was pregnant with your fucking kid?”

Rafe froze, his stomach jumped around, violently, his ears started ringing. His brain short-circuited, his lungs forgot how to take in air, his heart fucking stopped.

Pregnant.

Pregnant. With his—

“Oh, right.” Your laugh was venomous, “You showed up at my charity gala.” You licked your lips, shaking your head, “Defending her.”

He never felt so completely useless, completely fucking helpless while you stood in front of him, looking up at him like you hated him.

“I—” He started, but nothing came out. “You—”

There was nothing to fucking say, you were right, he had failed you.

You weren’t telling him this so he could weigh in or because you wanted him to be a part of it. You were telling him so he’d know, so there wouldn’t be any misunderstandings, so he wouldn’t ever think, even for a second, that there was still a version of this where he got to be a part of it.

“How long?” The words were hoarse, hardly audible.

Your lips curled in disgust, arms crossing tight over your chest. “Like you fucking care.”

He did, he did care.

So fucking much that he thought he might fucking die under the weight of it. Except the realization hit him just as quickly—he didn’t get to stand here, wide-eyed and breathless and shocked like this wasn’t the natural conclusion to the shitshow of mistakes he’d made.

“Don’t fucking stand there and act like this is some big revelation. You didn’t spend the last months with your tongue down someone else’s throat while I was home—sick, alone—wondering how the fuck I was supposed to do this without you.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, pressing your knuckles to your lips to stop them from shaking.

His gut twisted.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Jesus Christ, he’d been so fucking stupid.

“I don’t need you. I never did.”

It was a lie, maybe you even believed it.

But Rafe knew you, understood how hard it was for you to ask for help. Knew how much it had hurt to stand in front of him, admitting the truth. And Rafe—he needed to fix this. Even if it was the last thing he ever did.

“I should’ve been there.”

“Yeah? No shit.”

Rafe felt his ribs caving in. “I’m here now.”

“That’s not good enough.”

It was a death sentence, it was fair but fuck, he couldn’t accept it.

Rafe stepped closer.

You took a step back.

“Don’t.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he swore, desperate. “I don’t care if you fucking hate me, don’t care if you never forgive me.” His throat worked around the lump in it. “I’m here.”

You were so fucking angry. So fucking hurt. He didn’t blame you for it. But if he didn’t try, if he didn’t fucking show you—prove to you that he was here now—then he’d never forgive himself.

“You think I’m gonna just forgive you for this?” you sneered, arms folded tightly over your chest. “Just because you’re here now, just because you say the words that mean nothing—that’s enough? After everything? After all of it?”

All he could do was look at you—look at the person he had ruined, the person he had loved, and still loved, more than anything.

“I just—” He sucked in a breath, running a hand through his growing hair. “Tell me about the baby.”

Your expression faltered before you hardened again, lips pressing into a thin line.

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Bullshit.” His voice broke. “Don’t do that—don’t shut me out. Is it... a boy? A girl?”

You hesitated, shifting uncomfortably on your feet. “Why does it matter?”

“Don’t—don’t keep me in the dark, please. You’ve felt them move?”

You looked down at your feet. “No.”

"Did you—uh—" He rubbed the back of his neck, nerves raw. "Do you have morning sickness? I read that happens early on, right?"

You blinked, "What?"

"Like... throwing up and all that? You okay?" He sounded genuinely concerned, but it only made your head spin.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, “Can we drop it?”

It’s then he remembers the beach cleanup, the memories of that afternoon colliding all at once—the way you’d collapsed into him, pale and unresponsive. The panic that gripped his chest as he carried you to the truck. The fight during the drive, when you told him to leave, your refusal to let him come inside.

Jesus fucking Christ.

“You were…” He pratically gasped, “You were pregnant. At the beach cleanup.”

You stiffened, already dreading where he was going with this.

“Don’t.”

His pulse raced, “That’s why you didn’t want me to come inside the hospital, wasn’t it?” His words spilled out, “You were scared they’d tell me. Holy shit.”

“Stop,” you snapped, but he couldn’t.

“You passed out because of—” He couldn’t even finish the sentence. “Jesus Christ.”

“I said stop.”

He couldn’t unsee it now—couldn’t unfeel your dead weight on his arms. He’d been right there, clueless, driving you to the hospital while you were carrying his baby. And instead of being there for you, he’d made everything worse.

“I didn’t know,” he pleaded, voice breaking. “I swear I didn’t know.”

“Exactly.” Your voice was cold, “You didn’t know because you weren’t there.”

He was going to have to spend that entire fucking inheritance fortune on therapy

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige

@rafebb @rafesbby @whytheylosttheirminds

@zyafics @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron

@serrendiipty @sunny1616 @yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog

@psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2

@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt

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brainddeadd · 2 months ago

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Your daughter calls him "dad"

Oscar stood in the entryway, his duffle bag slung over one shoulder, helmet bag in hand, and a soft smile curving his lips. The morning sunlight poured in through the windows, wrapping the moment in a golden haze. You leaned against the doorway, watching as your daughter, Mia, toddled over to him in her mismatched socks and unicorn pajamas.

“Ready for a big hug, Mia?” Oscar knelt down, dropping his bags to scoop her into his arms. It was their little routine whenever he left for a race week. No matter how tight the schedule, he always made time for one last hug and a promise to video call as soon as he landed.

Mia wrapped her tiny arms around his neck, squeezing as tightly as her little body could manage. “You’ll win for me, right?” she asked, her voice muffled against his shirt.

Oscar chuckled, his voice warm. “Always for you, lovebug.”

As he stood, ready to grab his bags again, Mia called out, stopping him in his tracks. “Bye, Dad!”

The word hung in the air for a heartbeat, maybe two, before it truly sank in. Your eyes widened, and your hand flew to your mouth. Oscar froze, his grip on the bag slackening as he turned to look at her.

“What did you say, Mia?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

Mia grinned, oblivious to the weight of her words. “I said bye, Dad!”

Oscar’s knees seemed to give out as he dropped back down to her level, pulling her into his arms again. Tears filled his eyes, spilling over onto his cheeks as he buried his face in her hair.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Thank you, lovebug.”

You stepped closer, resting a hand on his shoulder. “You okay?” you asked gently, though the answer was obvious.

Oscar looked up at you with a tearful smile. “Better than okay. I’m…perfect.”

He pressed a kiss to Mia’s forehead before standing again, his eyes still shining. “I’ll see you both soon,” he promised, his voice steadying.

As he walked out the door, he glanced back one last time, the tears in his eyes mirrored by the biggest, brightest smile you’d ever seen. And as the car pulled away, you knew that no matter where he went, a part of him was leaving his heart at home with his family.

#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fanfic #° braindead writes

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adoreddestiny · 1 year ago

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ೃ⁀➷ ADMIRING YOU FROM AFAR — rafayel, xavier, zayne x gn!reader

rafayel tries his best to recenter his gaze when the two of you are out. but he can’t help when his eyes start to wander. the world grows a little more still as you preoccupy yourself with something mundane such as shopping.

he traces over your expression in his mind as if sketching out a mental image of your features. the way your eyes crinkle when you spot something you like or your hands grasping onto soft material make his heart flutter in a way he could never describe to anyone.

rafayel’s eyes linger on you as he follows you like a curious kitten through the aisles. a fleeting comment escapes him occasionally but then he’s back to staring. his eyes soften ever so slightly but when you meet his gaze the tips of his ears go red. suddenly, the jackets nearby have become so much more interesting.

xavier was never a fan of mornings. when the sunlight swims into the room and lights up the atmosphere, he wants nothing more than to tumble back into sleep’s embrace. but now he finds himself awaking just to soak in your features before the morning merges with noon.

lost in the murkiness of sleep, he gazes at you with half-lidded eyes. there’s so much peace in your expression and he can’t help but melt beside you as you continue steadfast in your dreams.

xavier pulls back a bit of your hair. his gaze fastens onto you, taking in your gentle expression and the sound of your soft inhales and exhales. he doesn’t know how to explain this rising adoration in his chest. he just knows it’s ever so comforting. wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulls you in closer.

zayne finds his gaze wandering back to you more than he’d like to admit. you promised not to bother him while he finished this report, but all he wants you to do is chat his ear off. your gaze is fixated on something outside your apartment. he pauses his typing, utterly entranced by the affectionate look in your eyes.

he hates himself for getting distracted. but he can’t stop himself when his fingers still and his cursor hovers over empty documents. the amber glow of his desk lamp shines against your skin and he tries to tear his gaze away again.

zayne’s mind wanders as he tries to look back at his laptop. but even over his screen, he can’t help but scan over your features once more. there’s a certain gleam in your eyes that he can’t stop admiring even while his heart is stuck in his throat.

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f1girliefics · 6 days ago

Text

Love in the Fast Lane

Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Summary: A road trip turns into a heartfelt journey of love.

The hum of the engine was a soothing backdrop as Lewis drove, his sunglasses reflecting the sunlit highway stretching out ahead.

You sat in the passenger seat, your hand resting lightly on the console between you, and you couldn’t help but notice the smile playing on his lips.

He had been unusually quiet about the details of this trip, only saying he wanted to take you somewhere special.

“Are you ever going to tell me where we’re going?” you asked, turning to look at him.

He glanced at you, his smile growing. “Where’s the fun in that? Just trust me.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Trusting you got me into a car at 6 AM with no coffee. I think I deserve a hint.”

“Alright, alright,” he said as he reached to squeeze your hand before putting his back on the wheel. “It’s somewhere I used to go before everything got... hectic. A place that helps me think, you know?”

“That sounds perfect. Thank you for bringing me along.”

“Where else would you be, Love?” he asked with a smile before you reached to change the music.

The rest of the drive was filled with easy conversation.

He pointed out random sights along the way.

A quirky roadside diner.

A vintage car that zipped past, and you teased him about how he couldn’t resist critiquing other drivers.

After a couple of hours, the car slowed as he turned onto a narrow, tree-lined road. The lush greenery enveloped the path, and you felt a thrill of anticipation.

“This is it?” you asked, peering out at the scenery.

“Not quite,” he said, his voice teasing. “We’ve got just a little more to go.”

The road opened to a breathtaking view of rolling hills, the sun painting the landscape in gold.

Lewis parked the car at a small overlook and got out, rounding the vehicle to open your door.

“Ever the gentleman,” you teased, taking his hand as you stepped out.

“Always.”

He led you to a spot where a blanket and a small picnic basket had been set up. You blinked in surprise, turning to him. “When did you do this?”

“Magic, and a little planning.”

You sat on the blanket, Lewis handed you your favourite soda.

Conversation between you two was always something extremely calming and natural.

As the sun began to set, casting everything in a beautiful, golden light, Lewis grew quieter.

You watched him, noticing the way he seemed to be gathering his thoughts.

“Hey,” you said softly, touching his arm. “What’s on your mind?”

He looked at you, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Just thinking about how lucky I am.”

You tilted your head, smiling. “Is that so?”

He nodded, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, velvet box.

Your breath caught as he opened it to reveal a stunning ring, the diamonds catching the sunlight even though there was not much sunlight left.

“Lucky that I get to spend my life with you,” he said, his voice steady but full of meaning and depth. “I’ve been waiting for the right moment to ask you this, and I realized there’s no such thing as the perfect time. Every moment with you feels right.” Your heart was pounding as he took your hand. “Will you marry me?”

For a moment, all you could do was nod. “Yes,” you managed to finally say, your voice breaking. “Yes, of course.”

He slipped the ring onto your finger, his hands steady even as yours trembled.

Then he pulled you into his arms, holding you close.

“Guess I’ll have to drive carefully on the way back,” he murmured into your hair.

You laughed through your tears of happiness, pulling back to look at him. “Why’s that?”

“Because now I’ve got my future wife in the car,” he said, his grin breaking through.

The rest of the evening was you going through Pinterest having to look at different wedding aesthetics, trying to find the most perfect one.

"Since you are a knight... can we hold the wedding in a castle?" you asked and Lewis laughed.

"So you can be the Princess and me the Knight in shining armour?"

"Or a nice Armani suit. I'm not forcing you into anything metal." Lewis nodded.

"We will do everything you want, Princess."

And as you drove back, you couldn't look away from your beautiful ring. A proud smile on his lips and a very happy one on yours.

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jesuistrestriste · 5 months ago

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girl you're literally the best writer here. Please please pleaaaaaaase can you do a part 2 of fwb Art who gets attached to you quickly 🛐 I'M BEGGING YOU

< pt 2 to this >

well.

you caved.

goddamnit, you caved quick too.

as soon as those tears spilled down his cheeks and into the crook of your neck, it was over. you wonder if maybe he weaponized his emotions a little to get you to stay, but it doesn’t really matter now, does it?

you did as he begged for you to do; you stayed the night with him. you expected that maybe he would try to have sex with you again, but it never happened.

as soon as you agreed to not go back to your own bed, he pressed kisses over your neck and held you tight. he gave you one of his loose stanford tennis tees and a pair of his boxers for you to sleep in, and then he coaxed you under the sheets. no grinding, no handsy touches, nothing.

he just laid there with you, breathing softly and comfortably as he rested his head on your chest, and fell asleep. you stared at the ceiling for most of the night just thinking ‘what the hell have i just gotten myself into’. if only you’d had the strength to refuse him before, because now you could tell he was in it.

bad.

you wake up in the morning after a night of inner turmoil and feel a comfortable weight behind you. a ghost of warmth pressed up against your back, and oh god, he’s spooning you. his arms are wrapped around your torso and his legs are tangled with yours.

you try to very quietly shift out of his hold, grabbing onto the side of his bed and pulling yourself towards it, but he just whines softly in his sleep and then tugs you right back flush to his chest. you sigh. you cave again, and let him keep you.

the both of you stay that way for another thirty minutes before art nuzzles into your shoulder and starts to stir. he presses three kisses to your neck as he sits up, and then gazes lazily down at you with lidded eyes as he takes in the sight of your features in the sunlight creeping through his blinds.

he’s only ever seen you in the dark; after parties and in response to your 1 AM bootycalls. how could he have ever gone this long without seeing you like this? the way your skin shines, the depth of the color in your irises, the little crevices and dips in your nose and cheeks and chin that make you look like you were lovingly sculpted by the hands of an artist. like you were someone’s muse.

you can see it in the way he looks down to you.

there’s going to be absolutely no (easy) way to get out of whatever you just started with him. one night changed everything. at least in his mind, you were sure of it.

he reaches a hand up and brushes his thumb over your lips, studying you before he knows you’ll turn away.

and then his lips are pressing down to yours. a soft, sweet, tender gesture that says so much more than you necessarily want from him. he only pulls back to whisper one thing, his eyes holding the same—almost nervous—vulnerability that they had the night before when he had weeped a plea into your frame.

“so..” he chews the inside of his cheek, “can i make you breakfast..?”

…

oh boy.

#🌸 - ask prompts #fluff to soothe the angst from last time #fwb art wants to drop the L bomb when u let him make u eggs and pancakes #reader has avoidant attachment issues lol #u are so sweet tho anon ??? :(#thank u <33 #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you

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winterrrnight · 11 months ago

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rafe comforting you when he realizes you aren’t comfortable in your skin and can’t accept compliments <3 cw: body insecurities, intentional use of lower case, shy!reader, self indulgent af bro :/

it took him some time, but he started to notice it; the way you dodged his compliments, the way you always switched the topic each time he praised how beautiful you look, or how pretty you are.

he didn’t quite understand it at first. why would you not be so readily accepting the compliments? after all, every word coming out of his mouth is 100% true.

it’s a wonderful fall evening, both of you at the quiet beach as you sit next to each other on the sand, the sun slumping down in the horizon and the sky streaked with beautiful tints of oranges and yellows, a cool breeze blowing past you both. his arm stays slumped around your shoulders, his way of keeping you warm in the chilly breeze.

he takes a glance at you; the evening sun rays shining off you, making you look even more ethereal than ever.

“you look so beautiful right now…” he mutters softly, not realizing when the words leave the mouth. it’s more or less like a reflex for him to compliment you, he just can’t stop himself.

you feel your cheeks heat up at his words, your gaze now fixated at your lap, your fingers pulling onto each other. rafe notices this almost immediately, and realizes that each time he compliments you, he never hears a ‘thank you’ back.

“hey…” he says softly, placing his hand on top of yours to stop you from fiddling with your fingers, “look at me,”

you slowly, but surely, turn your head to meet your eyes with his warm blue ones, and he can see the hesitance in your eyes, your mind working away the gears as a million thoughts generate in your head.

“why do you hide from me any time I compliment you?” he asks softly. he doesn’t mean to pressurize you, but he’s realized this has been going on for way too long now, and he wants to get to the bottom of this.

“rafe i…” you fumble, your lips parting and he expects you to say something else, but nothing really leaves your mouth. your eye contact with him falters and you start to look away, but rafe is quick to gently grip on your chin and make you look at him.

“uh uh uh… look at me, please,” he pleads softly. it gets hard for you to maintain strong eye contact but nevertheless you keep on looking in his eyes.

“sweetheart…” he tuts softly, ��don’t tell me you aren’t… comfortable with what you look like…”

when no response leaves your lips and you just look in his eyes, the sadness only evolving in them more and more, all the dots connect in his mind.

you aren’t comfortable with what you look like, so you believe you don’t deserve the compliments he loves to shower you in, and don’t readily accept them the way he wishes you would.

he gently moves his hand to your cheek and strokes the skin softly, and you subconsciously lean into the warmth of his hand.

“you’re gonna keep looking at me when I say the next words…” he takes a deep breath. “you, my love, are the most beautiful girl I have ever laid eyes on. and no– none of the hiding you always do okay? I will say this everyday to you if needed to show you that you indeed are so gorgeous, inside and out. that you radiate a certain light no one does. there is a charm you have that keeps on pulling me to you. I just hope you can see yourself from my eyes. and you’d see how your entire face glows under the warm sunlight, how your eyes shine when the moon shines its light on you. you smile so beautifully each time I take you to your favorite restaurant, or talk about some movie or show you love, or talk to you about new music… and I just wish you can see that, because it’s so beautiful, it’s the only thing I can think of all day,”

you don’t take your eyes off of him as tears full your eyes up to the brim. you blink and the tears make their way down, streaking your cheeks. your breathing is a little shaky, and rafe wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest.

“it’s okay to feel this way…” he whispers, “but just know, i’m never letting a single day pass by without reminding you just how beautiful you are okay? i’ll make you sick of my compliments,” he chuckles softly.

you can’t help but chuckle a little yourself, your face pressed against his blue lacoste. you slowly pull your face back and he quickly wipes off the residual tears off your face.

“thank you rafe…” you whisper softly, not knowing how badly you had needed that.

he smiles softly, knowing he’s succeeded because you didn’t dodge the compliment, you accepted it and thanked him for it. he presses a kiss to your forehead, closing his eyes for a moment as his lips come in contact with your skin.

“you’re so welcome my love,” he whispers against your skin, pressing another kiss.

he made you feel extremely loved and wanted in a way you’ve never felt.

— —

now who’s crying with me? 😁

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writingoddess1125 · 1 year ago

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Hii! I saw your requests are open and wanted to ask if you would maybe do something really sweet and wholesome and fluffy, like cuddles or hugs, for being in an established relationship with luffy, please ^^ If you do thank you so much! but you don't have to if it's a problem

Yeah of course!

Warm Mornings

Fluffy little number to start the day!

You and Luffy had been dating for some time now, after his realization that he loved his best friend he had quite literally scooped you up from your Village and loaded you onto his ship like his biggest prize yet. You had fallen in love with Luffy's crew that very same day, celebrating being apart of this amazing team. Drinking, eating and dancing as the ship sailed from the place you called home.

The next morning feeling sunlight shine on your eyes gently pulling you from your sleep. Groaning softly as you tried to turn from the light but felt a pair of strong arms lock you in and snuggle more into your back.

Luffy giggled and cuddled you closer- snuggling his face into the back of your neck as he sighed contently.

"Morning (Y/N)" He hummed happily, pulling a sleepy smile from you.

"Morning Luff~ I take it you slept well?-" You giggle as he starts to pepper kisses over the back of your neck.

"Come on Captian, we gotta get up and start the day" You hummed, but Luffy gave a dramatic whine in protest and rolled the both of you over making you laugh at being mkved like a ragdoll.

"No, let's stay longer.. eat breakfast in bed and just stay" He whined, dramtically. You chuckle and try to pull from him.

"We can't stay in bed all day Luffy- what are you doing?" You say quickly. His fingers still wrapped around your waist and starting to wiggle in order to tickle you, Loud laughs being forced from your form as you tried to roll out of bed. His surprising strength keeping you steady however as fits of laughs were ripped through you.

"You gotta agree to stay here in bed for me to stop~" Luffy cackled as he continued to tickle you, Finally out of breath you tapped out. "Fine Fine! we stay in bed longer!~" You laughed out, tapping his arm to release him.

You catch your breath from laughing that hard and wiped the tears from your eyes. Luffy turning so you're facing him and he gave a wide smile. You smiled and kissed her cheeks, then meeting him lips in a soft kiss which he happily returned.

Pulling away gently to see him staring at you, one of the few moments his face became serious as his fingers traced over your cheek and ran his thumb over your lip.

"(Y/N)... I feel have to tell you something" You said softly, a spike of worry hitting your heart.

"Is something wrong?" You questioned but he just shook his head.

"I just wanted to say I love you" He said seriously, before pulling you closer and sighing in relief. You never knew what was going through his mind, he was at moments like this hard to read- but truthfully you loved him even more for it. Smiling and laying your head against his form, the beat of his heart against your ear and you could have sworn it was no better then a drum.

"I love you too Luffy"

#x reader #one peice x reader #one peice live action #straw hat luffy #monkey d. luffy x reader #luffy x reader #one piece luffy

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infiniteimaginings · 1 year ago

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I would like a x reader oneshot request for Ray Manchester/Captain Man❤️ from- Henry Danger (I was wondering if you needed a plot and details for the request)

Hard to say (Ray Manchester x GN!Reader)

Summary: Ray has kept the secret of being Captain Man from you, your entire relationship. The feeling of wanting to tell you gets gradually bigger until he's panicking, begging his friends for help on what to do. Is he going to tell you, or is he going to keep his biggest secret to himself? Pronouns: You/Yours Warnings: None Word Count: 2.9k A/N: Happy Valentines Day!

It was mid afternoon on a beautiful Saturday in Swellview, within one of the homes the sunlight shined through the windows. The lights weren’t on because the sun was enough for those in the home, that’s why their windows were open.

Ray Manchester was the one who owned the home, he was sitting at his bar attached to the kitchen. His partner of about a year sat in one of the bar stools next to him, that partner was you.

Ray clicked his teeth and turned his whole body to face you, “Why were you so sarcastic about that?” He asked, leaning on the counter as you gently chuckled.

You shook your head, “I’m just saying,” You began, turning and facing him as he did to you, “it’s a very difficult recipe and..” You trailed off, trying to find the right words. Ray stood up and pointed at you with a smile of disbelief, “You don’t think I can do it!” He accused with amusement in his eyes. You turned your seat around fully and crossed your arms, leaning back onto the counter as you sighed. You eventually nodded, “You’re right, I don’t think you can do it.” You spoke bluntly, to which Ray's jaw dropped. He stood up straight and walked around the short corner to be across the counter from you into the kitchen. He began grabbing pots and pans, “I’ve seen it made all the time, it’s easy.” Ray claimed, his voice echoing from the cabinet.

Pots and pans were clanging as he set up his area. You looked over the counter with a raised brow to him as he was grabbing a few ingredients. You smiled and shook your head at him, “It’s one of the hardest recipes for people to follow.” You told him hands drumming the countertop. Ray stood up, his hands on his hips in pride, “Beef Wellington is not that hard.” He told you, leaning on his hands against the counter, “I could even do it from memory.” He claimed, to which you broke out into laughter. You held your stomach, “No you can not.” You told him, your laugh causing your words to be a little higher pitched. Ray watched you with an unimpressed expression, but he eventually broke out into a smile due to you doubling down in laughter. He crossed his arms, “I am positive I can.” He continued on with the topic, stepping back to lean on the stovetop instead. You finally collected yourself and looked at him, wiping a tear from your eye. You smiled gently at him, light gleaming through your eyes causing his posture to relax, gazing into your eyes was his favorite thing to do. You inhaled, eyes filled with adoration, “I am confident you can’t.” You told him gently, the comment causing Ray to poke his cheek with his tongue.

A few moments later Ray stood in the kitchen with an apron on that said ‘Kiss the Chef’, he loved corny clothing like that. He had a multitude of ingredients around him as well as pots and pans. You were sitting at the bar still, leaning on your crossed arms, shaking your head as you pulled out your phone. You took a few pictures of him working for later, just to see the before and after of the kitchen.

Ray was so focused in the kitchen, trying his best to make it from memory, immediately messing up. You hummed, “Isn’t it supposed to be brown on both sides?” You teased and he grumbled slightly, “Shh.” He shushed you, flipping the meat in the olive oil, “I need to focus.” He spoke, continuing to cook. There were times he realized he forgot an ingredient and rushed to the fridge and chopping board so the meat wouldn’t burn. He struggled with the plastic wrap for the meat, forgot what to season it with, and other things. You weren’t upset, you weren’t laughing at him, you just admired how he was so confident in his skills. You smiled at him, occasionally telling him where things were like the mushrooms and the onions so he could chop them up, wiped his face and helped him rinse his eyes when the onions got too much, etc.

He was covered in sweat, breathing heavily as placed his creation into the oven. He closed the oven and sighed, looking at all the dirty dishes and the extra pieces of food on the floor. He looked up at you, “I’ll clean it.” He told you, giving you a lopsided smile. You rolled your eyes playfully, getting up from your seat and walking to him. You wrapped your arms around his waist, looking up at him slightly, “It’s okay, you can take a shower and I’ll clean up here.” You explained. He had worked for a few hours to make a delicious meal for you guys, even if the recipe wasn’t done correctly. He deserved to take a break. His eyes gently softened as he leaned down a bit and rubbed your noses together, “Thank you.” He whispered, hands raising to cup your face.

When he looked into your eyes he paused, searching your eyes for something you were unsure of. He bit the inside of his cheek, taking a deep breath, “I need to tell you something.” He said, holding you close to him, his hands still cupping your cheeks. You nodded, this felt like an intense moment to you, the air felt thick, you weren’t sure why. He sighed, “I…” He paused as your eyelashes fluttered slightly to him. A smile graced his features, though it was slightly weak, “I just love you so much.” He whispered to you, pulling you in and pressing his lips to yours, enjoying the soft feeling of your lips against his. When the two of you pulled away you batted your eyelashes, scrunching your nose, “I love you too.” You spoke, pulling out of his grasp. “Go ahead and shower, I got this.” You said, beginning to put the pots and pans into the sink to wash them. Ray walked to the bathroom, looking back at you for a moment with a dejected look, but you didn’t notice.

The next day Ray kissed you gently before pulling back, “I got called into work today, so I won’t be back until later.” Ray told you to which you nodded, “Okay, have fun! Tell Henry and them that I said hi.” You told him, smiling gently as you turned your attention back to your show. He nodded and walked out the door to Junk N’ Stuff.

Once he arrived at the store, he walked past the front portion of the store and went straight to the elevator in the back, standing without his typical smile. The elevator plummeted to the very bottom layer it could reach, Ray was not affected by such a drop. The elevator doors opened and exposed Captain man's secret headquarters, the man cave. Rays man cave. There was a large platform that dropped tubed, a large half circle couch, and a computer area with multiple screens on the walls.

Three teenagers were in the mancave. A girl with brown skin and curly black hair was typing on the computers, her name was Charlotte. A boy with pale skin and brown hair was pulling something out of the microwave in the wall, his name was Jasper. The last teenager was laying on the half circle couch, typing away on his phone. He had pale skin and blondish brown hair, it was far lighter than Jaspers. This specific teenager was Henry, or also known as Kid Danger, Captain Mans sidekick.

The teens all turned their heads to Ray walking out the elevator, greeting the man who waved back. Ray smiled weakly and put his hand up to wave, “Hey guys, I know I’m-” He was cut off by Charlotte who stood up from the computers, “Late? Yeah, it’s fine. We know you were at home with them.” Charlotte spoke, referring to you as she went and sat next to Henry, Jasper doing the same. Jasper made a few kissing noises, immediately stopping when Ray gave him a bored look. Ray sat on the other side of the couch, rolling his slightly, “They said hi, by the way.” He mumbled leaning back in the seat, clearly distracted. Henry aww’d and smiled, “They’re sweet.” He told the man, putting his phone in his back pocket. Ray sighed at the comment, “Yeah…” He trailed off, “They are.” He said, looking at his knees. The teens all looked at each other, “WHy’d you say it like that?” Jasper asked, Henry bumping his shoulder slightly and correcting the sentence, “What’s wrong?” Henry asked appropriately.

Ray contemplated telling them because ultimately deciding to, “I want to tell them I’m captain man.” He spoke quickly, biting the inside of his cheek, a bad habit of his. The teens eyes widened, Charlotte shifted a bit, “That’s a huge step.” She told him gently and he nodded. “I know.” Ray told them, looking down before looking back to the three genuinely, “But, I want them to know. I don’t want to keep anything from them.” He explained, clasping his hands. The three understood that, they did, honestly. Jasper took a bite of his food a bit, “Then just tell them.” He said simply, the words a bit muffled due to him having taken a bite out of his food. Rays blew air into his cheeks and then pursed his lips, “I’ve been trying to tell them for weeks.” He admitted, playing with his thumbs. Henry tilted his head, leaning forward, “How’s that going for you?” He asked and Ray immediately answered, “Awful!” He yelled out, putting his face in his hands. He took his face out of his hands, still looking down, “I’ve tried so many time, like last month..” He spoke moving his hands around a bit.

It was late in the night, you and Ray were in bed cuddling as you watched some movie randomly put on. Ray was gently rubbing his hand up and down your arm as you struggled to stay awake. He looked at the screen then to you, you were cuddled up on his chest, your eyes closed. He inhaled, he decided he would tell you now, he didn’t want to wait any longer, he didn’t want to keep the secret anymore. “Hey…” He whispered, you stirred a bit and he chuckled quietly, the rumble of his laughter vibrating from his chest, causing your eyes to slightly flutter open. You hummed a bit in response, your eyes closing once again, “Are you asleep?” He asked you, smiling gently since he already knew what the answer would be and you shook your head slightly, even though you were falling asleep. He pulled the blanket up over you more and kissed the top of your head, “Goodnight sweetheart.” He mumbled to you instead of expressing his secret. He held you a little longer, telling himself he was going to hold on to his secret a little longer.

Ray continued telling the three teenagers of moments he tried telling you about his secret. He was bouncing his leg, “I tried a few weeks ago…” He spoke.

The two of you sat across from each other at the dining table. A vase of flowers was on it, along with a candle, and two plates of your favorite dinner. Ray had taken the time to clean and cook for you, leading you to the table. Tears sprung in your eyes as you sniffled, smiling at the gesture. You kissed him sweetly before sitting down, him sitting across from you. He held his hand out, wanting to hold your hand to which you made his dream come true and put your soft hand into his. He looked into your eyes, looking at you, adoring you. He thought ‘Now is the perfect moment.’ He repeated the thought in his head for a few times but, when you smiled at him he just couldn’t do it. He kept his smile on his face, “You look incredible.” He whispered to you, causing you to giggle slightly.

Ray leaned back in the seat with a grumble, “Yesterday, when I made us dinner.” He groaned, unsure of what to do. The teens all felt sorry for the man, unsure of what to say. Ray sat up, looking straight to his sidekick, “Henry, you’ve told a bunch of people, how did you do it?” He asked desperately, his hands sweating. Henry put his hands up in surrender, “Woah.” The boy spoke, slight offense in his tone. Charlotte put Henry's hands down, “In his defense he didn’t mean to tell any of us.” She spoke, referring to her, Jasper, and Henry's little sister Piper. Henry nodded, “Yeah, I don’t tell people, they just find out.” Henry shrugged, standing up and wiping his jeans, Ray following Henry as he walked to the middle of the room.

Rays eyes were filled with desperation, “Please, I need to know how to tell them.” He begged, causing the other teens to follow. Jasper had long finished his food before he began to speak, ”Why haven’t you told them already? Haven’t you guys been dating for like a year?” He asked genuinely, unsure of why he’s kept the secret for so long. Ray paused, trying to find the words, hands moving around each other. “It’s a hard thing to say, it’s been…” He spoke, pausing, unsure of how to describe it. Henry saw a glint in his eyes and understood what he meant, “Comfortable? Peaceful?” Henry asked him to which Ray nodded. “It’s been nice.” The older man said, “If I tell them I’m a superhero, what if they think it’s too much, what if we break up, what if…” He paused, looking down and hugging himself, “what if I put them in danger?” He asked quietly.

Charlotte walked up closer to him, putting a hand on his shoulder, “That’s the risk you have to take.” She spoke gently, “What happens if they aren’t aware of your status and someone finds out that they are your weakness?” She asked him and Ray couldn’t find an answer, but the idea made him even more anxious. Charlotte noticed this and gently shook him, “They should at least know, I’m sure they’ll understand, they love you.” She reminded him, causing Ray to let out a huge breath he was holding, nodding a bit. Henry entered the conversation once more, “Just be honest,” He began, stuffing his hands in his pockets, “I mean I was honest with them after they found out, they would've been more upset if I lied.” He spoke, Charlotte and Jasper nodding along with his words. Ray understood their advice and overall excused himself, going home to you.

He returned home earlier than you expected so you greeted him with open arms, telling him about the movie you were watching. Ray made himself comfortable on the couch with you, you leaning on him as his arm was around your shoulders. He looked down at you, the light of the movie reflecting in your eyes, a small smile on your face. You were warm to him, your body heat making him feel a little more relaxed. His hand found yours and he rubbed your soft skin with his thumb, leaning his head on yours. You were focused on the movie but he was entirely focused on you.

Ray flickered his gaze to the movie before saying, “I’m Captain Man.”

You were so engrossed into the movie to the point you didn’t hear what he said, you heard his voice, you just didn’t catch the words. You lifted your head and looked at him, “What’d you say?” You asked gently, unaware of how nervous that question made him. Ray positioned himself to be able to look at you in your eyes, “I’m Captain Man.” He repeated seriously, his thumb no longer stroking your hand. You chuckled a bit, “Yeah, sure.” You spoke with a smile on your face. You soon noticed, he wasn’t laughing. Your brows furrowed, “You’re not joking.” You realized aloud, he darted his gaze away from you, arm still wrapped around you. Ray swallowed the lump in his throat, looking back at you, pushing his fingers through his hair, “I am Captain Man and every time I’ve been home late it’s because,” You cut him off, “You’ve been saving the Swellview with Kid Danger who is…Henry?.” Youasked, connecting the pieces and biting your lip. Ray nodded, his heart beating harshly in his chest, he could hear it in his ears, so loud he felt he could barely hear you.

He pulled out a tube of red blue and silver gum balls and you looked at it curiously. “This is what changes me into Captain Man.” Ray continued, letting you hold it. You didn’t speak for a moment so Ray felt he had to explain even more, “I didn’t want to keep it from you, but if this makes you feel-” “I’m glad you told me.” You spoke, cutting him off once again, looking at him gently. “I’m glad you told me.” You repeated, giving him back his gum and hugging him gently. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head, sighing in relief, “I’m glad you’re with me.” He whispered to you, rubbing your back gently.

#captain man #ray manchester #ray manchester x reader #captain man x reader #fluff #x reader #fanfiction #captain man fanfiction #ray manchester fanfiction #henry danger fanfiction #fanfiction fluff #ao3 #henry danger x reader #henry danger #Infinite Imaginings

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thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels · 11 months ago

Text

Like a lamb led to slaughter (my heart held in your hands)

carry me slowly, my sunlight (these colours, they fade for you only) - series masterlist here

pairing: damian wayne x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.7k

genre: fluff? angst? kinda hurt/comfort?

warnings: this is the enemies part of the enemies to lovers so they're kinda mean and hateful, reader pulls a knife on damian at the beginning but it's pretty chill, also angsty ending in this but future parts where they're together and in love are already up and in my masterlist <3

a/n: enjoy xoxo

Damian pauses, holding his breath as the knife that's been suddenly pressed against his throat gets pressed a little harder. The wind blows the sand around his feet gently and he listens, straining for a hint as to who his attacker is.

"Damian Al Ghul, caught by surprise… you're getting slow," your voice makes him relax - much to his annoyance, his jaw clenching as he exhales slowly. You pull the knife away from him, ignoring the small trickle of blood that runs down his neck as you stand in front of him.

"You shouldn't be here," he snaps harshly.

"Neither should you," you quip back.

"This is my -"

"For now," you interrupt, your grin wicked. "This war of ours isn't over yet, Al Ghul. I wouldn't claim the winning prize for yourself just yet - not when you're the one who's been caught off guard." Damian's fists clench, his eyes hard as he stares at you through the darkness of night, the stars dripping pinpricks of light onto the two of you.

"This is League territory. You are outcast. You're not welcome here, and neither are any of the others who follow you," he says viciously. You smile.

"So sure I won't beat you still," you say, a mocking edge in your voice that makes him huff. "So sure it'll be you leading the League one day, and not me."

Damian doesn't bite back, though. He opens his mouth to, but then seems to think better of it, opting instead to step away from you and plant himself on the sandy ground while the clouds part, the moon shining through. You think you hear him muttering, "why don't you just kill me and get it over with, then?"

You blink at his behaviour, following him cautiously and standing in front of him, blocking the light of the moon and shrouding him in darkness where he's sitting, knees pulled up to his chest.

"What's wrong with you?" You ask, toeing at his side with your shoe, jostling him slightly. He just clenches his fists tighter.

"You're blocking out the sky," he says bitterly. "And you stabbed me." You arch a brow.

"You're stargazing now? How novel. And I didn't stab you - don't be dramatic. It was just a little cut… you've given me worse," you point out.

"You deserve worse," he snaps. You straighten back and away from him, moving to let the light of the moon shine down on him as you sit next to him.

"You know I'd never kill you on a night like this," you say, a softness in your voice that makes you both queasy. You feel the weight of the knife in its sheath against your leg and press your hand to it. You could try to kill him - you probably should. God knows there are enough people waiting for you to.

"Not enough of an audience?" Damian says dryly. You kick a pile of sand near your foot.

"Why didn't you fight back? You could just as easily try to kill me tonight. But you wouldn't because we've been at this far too long to let it end in private… just the two of us." The end of your sentence is murmured, your eyes trained on his face while he stares up at the night sky. It takes him longer than you'd like for him to tear his gaze away from the full moon and look back at you, the light shining on one half of his face while the other now sits in shadow. You imagine you look much the same, half bathed in light, half shrouded.

"What do you think will happen?" His question finally cuts through the silence. "When one of us finally kills the other." You pull your hand away from your knife like it's burned you.

"When I kill you?" You say haughtily. "The League will be mine."

"And when I kill you?" Damian snaps back. You seem to mull over your answer for a moment too long, Damian huffing and turning back up to the sky.

"Then you win," you say quietly. "And you're rid of me." Something in your heart twinges at that and you grit your teeth.

"What would I do?" He says it so softly you're sure you wouldn't hear him if you hadn't spent so many years learning him. You fix him with a hard look, but he keeps his eyes pointedly on the stars and not at you. "What would I do without you?"

"What would I do without you?" Your response is so wavering and hushed that you think he must have missed it. It must have simply been caught in the wind and carried away to somewhere where the two of you could be anything other than what you are now. The way Damian turns to look at you, eyes wide and vulnerable and hurting, tells you he heard you just fine.

"I don't want to kill you," he says it like kindness is a crime.

"You have to," you respond, like a lamb led to slaughter. "It's what we're made for, you and me. To be each other's end - each other's undoing. Only one of us is making it out of this alive." There's a weight in your words that goes unsaid. A part of me will die with you. Neither one of us will make it out of this and stay whole. A part of me belongs to you.

Damian stands suddenly, sand flying at where you sit as he shoots to his feet. You brush it off of you with a sigh and crane your neck to look up at him where he's standing tall, fists clenched and shoulders back, his feet planted firmly and holding him steady. You assume there's a determination in his eyes that you're intimately familiar with to go with his stance. He's blocked out the moon with his figure, leaving the two of you in shadow with a blinding halo around his silhouette, but you don't need to see his face to know what look he's wearing - you haven't needed to for a long time.

"There's a way around this, I'm sure," he says. You sigh and a breeze floats by, ruffling through him and into you. Your nose burns when you pick up the faintest whiff of his scent and you wonder, just for a moment, if he can detect the same from you… if he knows you the way you know him.

"You don't want that," you say flatly.

"Don't tell me what I want," he snaps back, voice hard. "You don't get to decide how this ends." You shoot up at his words, standing chest to chest with him, so close that you bump into each other.

"I decide just as much as you do." Your voice mimics the steel in his own. "This is about us, not you, and… and," whatever you were saying dies out as you look at Damian, his eyes staring back at you intensely. You hadn't really realized, in your anger and haste, how close to him you'd shoved yourself, but you can feel his breath on your skin and see the flecks of colour in his deep brown eyes.

"And… what?" He prompts, scowl still on his face. He seems to take no notice of the way his nose brushes against yours. That is, until your eyes flick down to his lips for a split second too long.

He lurches away from you, stepping back to create distance and holding a hand out in surrender, as if the close proximity to you just then had been more threatening than all the times you'd pointed a sword to his chest. The way your heart thumps behind your ribs and your breath catches, you're inclined to agree.

"I'm going to fix this," he says breathlessly.

"Fix what? There's nothing to fix, Damian." His name burns your tongue, like it's an intimacy you shouldn't indulge in. "There's nothing to fix. This is the way it's supposed to go."

"I won't kill you," he's all but yelling at you now. "And I won't let you kill me." You make the mistake of closing your eyes, hanging your head slightly and sighing as you prepare yourself for another fight. It's a moment of weakness that you would never allow in front of any enemy other than him - a moment of vulnerability that could cost you your life. But you hear it, ever so slightly, the whisper of him moving with a stealth that only the two of you know. By the time you open your eyes, he's gone.

You realize, in the days following the incident, that you'd never gone so long without seeing Damian before. At first, you were shoved against each other by your respective sides in never-ending fights to see who would triumph. Then, as time passed and the two of you grew, your skills matched and fights ending in draws over and over, you started seeking each other out on your own. To know your enemy, you'd always told yourself. You're sure he'd always tried to convince himself of the same.

But now? Now days have gone by without a whisper, without a flickering shadow or a hushed breath. Eventually, you go looking, silent and hidden and so desperately hopeful. But that's when you hear it - the rumours.

Damian Al Ghul is gone - gone to live with his father and train with him. He'll be back, you promise yourself. He'll come back to me.

But he doesn't. Time passes and he remains gone, the rumours spreading.

Damian Al Ghul has found a home beyond this war, beyond you. You're sure that only makes you so nauseous because now you'll never get the chance to kill him.

Damian Al Ghul has no interest in fighting a war that isn't his anymore, you hear. Damian Al Ghul has no need for a vicious prophecy or a never-ending rivalry. Damian Al Ghul has found a home, apparently, and it's somewhere far… far away from you.

#smsn.writes #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne fluff #damian wayne al ghul #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne x you #damian wayne fanfiction #damian wayne imagine #robin #robin x reader #robin imagine #robin x you

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ihaveabuckyproblem · 2 years ago

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He Had It Comin’ | D.D.

Summary: Daryl once told the group that Merle wasn’t a r@pist, but no one could deny the way Merle looked at you.

Warnings: fem reader, sexual harassment, attempted r@pe, protective!Daryl, villain!Merle, set in Alexandria, (we’re just gonna act like Merle never died), death threats, triggering threats, crying, guns, pinning, etc.

You were groggy, things all confusing and hazy in your awakening state. The sunlight barely creeped through the curtains as they failed to cover all of the window, allowing the golden rays to shine into your face. The urge the open your eyes got the best of you, so you did, and immediately groaned when you were blinded by the sunlight.

After a couple more seconds, you were coherent. You didn’t have to turn to see that Daryl was sleeping peacefully beside you. He had one arm propped under his head, a force of habit he never was able to break away from. His other arm was holding onto you, feeling as though someone was about to pull you away from him at any given moment and he’d never see you again. It always amazed you how strong he was, even while he slept.

Moments like these brought a small smile to your lips as you wished you could stay here in this moment forever. Nothing brought you more peace, you were the safest you’ve been since the world fell and the dead rose.

You could feel Daryl’s steadily paced breaths warming your neck, his face nuzzled into it. You knew you’d have to get up soon, but everything in you was telling you not too. To stay here, wearing nothing but Daryl’s t-shirt and a pair of underwear, while your lover slept next to you as if there wasn’t a world outside of your shared room.

Suddenly, your peaceful thoughts and blissful mood were interrupted as your bedroom door is quite literally slammed open. You felt Daryl’s body tense immediately as you both shut up, Daryl’s hand already reaching for the knife under his pillow.

“Rise and shine!” As if seeing Merle standing there wasn’t enough, his voice rang loudly throughout the once quiet room. Immediately, Daryl relaxed, but rolled his eyes.

“Get outta here, man.” Daryl raised his voice at his older brother, throwing his hands up.

You hadn’t taken your eyes off the older Dixon. And he sure as hell hadn’t taken his eyes off you either, the way your bare legs looked exposed like that mind his eyes have no shame. You shuddered in disgust, immediately throwing the blanket over your body.

Daryl caught onto his brother’s creeping eyes and stood up out of bed, stomping over to Merle.

“Stop bargin’ in ‘ere, asshole. Yer creepin’ her out.” He growled at him, spitting his words out like venom. Merle smirked, finally tearing his gaze off you and looked at his little brother.

“I can’t help but look when my sweet baby brother got himself a nice piece of ass hanging around.” Merle spoke without shame. This made Daryl’s blood boil, he pushed Merle back and out of the room before slamming the door back shut. All you could hear was Merle’s descending laughter as he walked away.

You wanted to be shocked, like you didn’t expect it. Like this wasn’t normal. But, truth be told, Merle’s behavior towards you has always been that way. No matter how many times Daryl threatened to smash his skull in or take off his other hand, Merle said and did as he pleased when he pleased.

“‘M sorry bout him, he’s an ass.” Daryl muttered the last part to himself as he walked towards his dresser, intent on getting ready for the day.

“I think it was a mistake to let him move into the basement.” You muttered, letting your dislike for Merle seep into your tone.

Daryl didn’t say anything because he knew you were right. He hates the way Merle speaks to you, it isn’t okay and it makes you uncomfortable, and that’s enough for him to want to send Merle to an early grave. But, Merle was blood, the last family Daryl had.

“I’ll talk to ‘em.” Daryl reassures, sending you a “I promise” look.

Hours had passed and you hadn’t seen Daryl since this morning. After getting dressed and ready for the day, you parted and went your separate ways. Daryl had been positioned with Rick today on supply runs while you were on training with the kids.

The day was going great, the kids were going through their training wonderfully. Even Adam, the little boy who is scared of his own shadow, did wonderful knife work. It made you proud seeing how far they’ve come.

All that pride washed out of your system when you felt another presence. You didn’t move, standing there with your hands on your hips, observing the children. You felt uneasy, as if prying eyes were on you. And they were.

Merle had been passing by the training grounds when he spotted you. You have no idea how long he’d been there, just watching, eyes glued to your ass. He sexualized you worse than any man ever had and it was disgusting. You were a big girl and you knew how to fend for yourself, but having to fight against the living is the scariest thing you ever had to do.

As long as Merle kept his distance, you didn’t care. You knew how jealous he was that Daryl had you and he didn’t, but that wasn’t your problem. He needed to learn respect.

All of a sudden, you felt a quick pressure on your backside, causing you to stumble forward.

Did someone just smack my ass?

You whipped around faster than you could imagine only to be met with the serious yet mischievous stare of Merle. He had that uneasy smirk plastered on his face that sent chills down our spine.

Oh, your blood was boiling. The nerve he had to put his hands on you, his brother’s woman. You could hear the kids still continuing on with their training, oblivious to the creep in the area, but all you could see was red.

“Now, that’s a nice piece of-“ before you could let him finish his sentence, you reared back your first in seconds, giving it all your force as you felt your knuckles come in contact with his cheekbone.

Merle was on the ground in seconds, looking at you with pure shock. You didn’t hear the children practicing anymore, so you knew you had eyes on you. Your senses came back to you and that’s when you looked down at your red knuckles, instantly getting hit with the sharp pains throbbing in your hand. You gripped your wrist and hissed.

“You bitch!” Merle hollered, making your head snap up.

“Watch your tone or I’ll rock your shit again,” you snapped at him, coming down from your adrenaline high, “Get out of here. They’re just kids, they don’t need to see anything else.”

You didn’t give him the time of day to respond before you turned your back on him and walked away. He gathered himself and left, but not without griping and complaining, muttering a bunch of curses and threats under his breath.

An hour later and you couldn’t bear the pain in your hand, your fear is that it was broken. You made up some lame excuse and told the kids that training was done for the day. You made sure they all put their knives back into their holsters and told them all what a good job they did. After the last child made their way home, you realized the sun was on its way to setting. Letting out a sign, you gently grabbing your wrist, keeping your hand steady as you walked to Carol’s home.

“This looks bad, Y/N.” Carol said softly, having a delicate hold on your injured hand. You winced, trying to bite your tongue from the pain.

“You should see the other guy.” You joked, only, it didn’t come off as humorous as you hoped. Carol was quick to look at you, concerned, before reaching for her medical kit.

“This is from a fight?” She asked.

You scoffed at how funny that sounded to you. It was better than your joke.

“It was less of a fight and more of a promise.” You spoke truthfully. Not keeping the truth any longer, you informed Carol of what happened. She was upset for you, to say the least. Carol was your best friend outside from Daryl, so she already knew of your worries when it came to Merle. She didn’t like him either but she was always worrying about you living in the same house as him.

“Are you gonna tell Daryl?” She asked, putting the last piece of gauze tape on your wrapped hand.

Daryl.

You forgot about the fact that you would have to tell Daryl. He would question your hand… and you never lie to each other. It was an unspoken rule and brutal honesty was a big factor in your relationship.

You bit your lip nervously, how do you tell your boyfriend that his brother smacked your ass? Your thoughts became overwhelming, Daryl loves his brother. But he also loves you. What if he thinks you’re making him chose?

You mentally laughed to yourself at how ridiculous that sounds. After Carol finished your hand, you looked out the window, seeing nothing but the deep setting sun. All the light was almost drained from the sky, you could tell the moon was about to make its appearance.

Thanking Carol, you bid your goodbyes, knowing Daryl was probably home. After leaving Carol’s house, you tried not to think about the situation. It wasn’t worth the stress… Merle wasn’t worth the stress.

It wasn’t long before you reached you and Daryl’s home. The lights were off, meaning no one else was home. You sighed, dragging your feet up the stairs. He must be somewhere with Rick unpacking whatever supplies they brought back. You smiled to yourself thinking about the man you love.

You made your way into the house, kicking off your boots at the door. It was dark in the house, but there was enough moonlight coming in through the windows that you could make your way around. Your body felt so tired and your hand was starting to throb again. Why did you have to strike him with your most useful hand?

You shook it off and deposited your holster belt on the kitchen counter. The weight off your hips was relieving. You arched your back, giving it a good stretch.

Then, you felt something cold pressed against your head. Your body tenses almost instantly, your heart rate speeding up in seconds. You knew what that was. Anyone in Alexandria would recognize the feeling of a gun pressed to the back of their head.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Merle mocked, his voice flooding your ears.

For fucks sake.

“Bet that hand feels just about as good as my face, doesn’t it, honey?” He chuckled, taking a step closer. You closed your eyes and took and big breath in and out- you couldn’t show him your fear.

“What do you want, Merle?” You seethed. You were eyeing your holster belt that was only a couple feet away that held your knife.

“You know what I want baby.” His voice was low and hungry, now pressing himself against your back. As if you weren’t tense before, you were stiff as a door now. He moved the gun to press to the side of your head, grabbing your hip hard. Your winced in pain at the feeling of his fingers digging into your hip, but he had other plans than just that. He grabbed you by the back of your neck and slammed your body down onto the counter, making you bend over it as sharp groan leaving your lips.

This was happening. This was really happening. The sudden realization of the situation you were in made a wave of fear come crashing over you. All the jokes, the comments, the stares… This is what he was thinking about? Forcing himself on you over the counter?

No. This can’t happen, you weren’t gonna let this happen. Merle was ripping off your shirt when you came to your senses. This was enough for you to throw your head backwards and into his mouth, making him holler in pain. To your surprise, he even dropped the gun.

You stood up and wasted no time, you didn’t even look at him, you just bolted. You ran towards the door, but couldn’t even twist the handle before you were ripped away from it. You screamed in protest, but your vocal cords gave out when you felt a hard hit to your head.

You were pulled to your feet by your hair before being punched in the face again, immediately falling back down to the floor. You cried out in pain, kicking and screaming, refusing to go down without a fight.

“Go to hell!” You scream, spitting a large wad of saliva into Merle’s eyes. He jerked back and let you go, dropping you so he could wipe his eyes. You scrambled to your feet, but tripped over his large boot that he stuck out in front of you. Your body hit the floor hard and you landed on your already injured hand, causing a scream to ripple through your throat. You were silenced by a kick to the stomach, your eyes widening as the wind was knocked out of you, sending you into a coughing fit.

Having had enough of your resisting, Merle knelt down between your legs, flipping you on your back as he pulls you closer by your legs. You cry and try to fight back, but the harsh blows you endured did a number on your body.

Merle had his hands on the zipper of your jeans when the front door opened and shut. Both of your heads snapped to the doorway the same time Daryl looked up to see what was taking place.

Your face was bloody, your lip busted and your forehead gashed. You looked like you had been crying as you wheezed, still fighting for air. Your shirt was nowhere to be seen and your stomach was red, looking abused. You didn’t say anything, you couldn’t say anything, your eyes said enough as they pleaded for help.

When Daryl finally laid his eyes upon his big brother, he was blinded with rage. All the color drained from his surroundings as all he saw was red. Merle didn’t look sorry, or guilty, or ashamed of what he was attempting to do- only disappointed that he didn’t finish the job.

Daryl didn’t utter a word as he took 3 big strides and rocked his fist into Merle’s jaw. There was so much force behind the punch that it made your body jerk.

Merle was pleading with his little brother, but Daryl didn’t care. No one lays a hand on his woman, no one lays their hand on you, and lives to see the next day.

Even through the tears in your eyes, you could see the blood bath Daryl was making of Merle’s face. With every colliding notion of Daryl’s fist to his brother’s face, Daryl would grunt, but never uttered a word. He never threatened Merle, never asked why, he simply wanted him dead.

And Daryl did just that. Daryl beat Merle until Merle stopped pleading, moving, and breathing. You looked on as Daryl stood over his dead brother’s body.

At the realization that Merle was dead, you finally broke. Your body shook in sobs and you covered your chest with your arms, holding yourself as you cried. The love of your life just killed his brother- and you felt guilty.

“Shit, Y/N-“ Daryl bolted over to you, kneeling down to your level. He pulled your body into his lap, holding you close.

“I’m sorry- I’m so sorry Daryl.” You choked out, avoiding the lifeless body on the floor just a few feet away.

“Yer sorry?” Daryl questioned, “Y/N, he was hurtin’ ya.”

“He was your brother-“

“I don’t give a damn.” Daryl said sternly. You grew quiet at his words. Daryl gently cupped your face in his hands, making you look him in the eye.

“Yer the only one I care ‘bout. He had it comin’.”

Daryl reassuring words left your mind at ease, but, you were still shaken up. You and Daryl sat there for god only knows how long as you held onto him and cried. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear and held you tight. He promised himself to never let you go.

#the walking dead daryl #Daryl Dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon protective #daryl Dixon is daddy #the walking dead imagines #daryl dixon fanfiction #Merle is an ass #merledixon #twd #the walking dead

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azsazz · 1 year ago

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Cherries, Juniper, and Orange Slices

Daddy!Eris x Reader

Summary: This one is a req from @acourtofmenandthirst: Eris' daughter drawing his scars on her doll.

Warnings: Mentions of scars.

Word Count: 1,639

_________________________________________

Eris peeks his head into the room, amber eyes drifting towards the cot his son, Rook, is currently crying in. The young boy, hardly a year old, has an iron grip on the bars caging him inside the intricately carved wood of his bed. Thick vines and leaves cut into the dark lumber, choked by his little fingers.

Tears stream down Rook's chubby cheeks and Eris coos, pushing into the room. Sunlight creeps in through the light linen curtains. The stained glass creation hung in the window casts colorful shadows across the creamy yellow of the walls.

“My poor son,” Eris huffs dramatically, lifting Rook from his cradle. He’s clothed in only his nappy, reaching up to cling onto his father’s pressed shirt as if he’ll never let go again.

Eris hopes he doesn’t. His children are growing up much too fast.

Rook sniffles, resting his head in the crook of Eris’ neck, and hiccups. Eris pats soothing motions into his son's bare skin, peppering his freckled cheeks with loving kisses as he calms his youngest child down. He rocks the little boy, waltzing up to the big windows and pushes the curtains open, letting the afternoon sun shine in full force. The room overlooks the small orchard in the back of his quaint home. Trees he’s planted himself with help from you and your daughters, an important tradition to your family.

It started on your first date. Eris had already known you were the one—love at first sight—and kept his home away from home a secret from his family, only using it to escape Beron’s throes when he really needed it. Briar, he named it. He had cooked you a hearty meal with the most expensive, luxurious wine he could find, and after a delightful dinner, he’d walked you through the nearly empty rolling hills behind his home, hand-in-hand.

You’d commented how the fields needed more trees and had gushed on and on about what he could do with the space. His shadow hounds had run by your feet, chasing each other through the ankle-high grasses, and he’d immediately taken you to his mount and settled you in front of him, taking the both of you into town to purchase some seeds.

It has been tradition ever since. Birthdays, anniversaries, births, deaths, any and all celebrations the both of you would go into the yard and plant a tree. Maude loves her cherry trees with all her heart, and Eris is convinced the only reason his daughter ventures outside is to pluck the fruit off the trees and stuff herself silly, stumbling back into the house with stained fingers and lips.

A juniper tree for his other daughter, Juniper. This one was harder to acquire, but thriving well in the backyard, closest to the home. June doesn’t seem to understand the value of the tree yet, but someday, Eris knows that she will.

And a sweet orange tree for his little boy Rook. It had been one of your cravings when you were pregnant with him, and to plant the tree only seemed fitting. Rook devoured any little orange bits he was given with the biggest smile on his face.

He makes a grabby hand for the tree, smart enough to know where his favorite treats are from.

“You hungry, little man?” Eris asks, and Rook babbles in response. He lifts his son, blowing raspberries on his bare stomach that has cheerful giggles bursting through the room. Rook’s auburn eyes shine up at his father, laughing only harder when Eris catches a whiff of his nappy, grimacing. “Alright baby, let’s get you all cleaned up first.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

“Why is our son naked?” you muse, allowing Eris to press a kiss to your cheek while you scoop the last of the cookie dough onto the tray. Your mate and daughters had been helping you, but the girls had been more interested in eating the batter their father kept sneaking them, so you shooed them away to play with their dolls while the cookies baked and you patted Eris on the butt as he went to check on Rook.

Your son keens, pressing his own open mouthed kiss to your cheek. It’s all slobber and suction, but you can’t help the beaming smile that splits your cheeks anyway.

“Because he keeps burning them off, Fawn,” Eris answers you, nose wrinkling as he turns to the babe, “Isn’t that right buddy?”

Rook screeches in excitement as his father tickles his stomach. It isn’t abnormal for your son’s power to be flaring up with his emotions. You’d gone through similar situations with Maude and Juniper around this age as well. You still have the burn marks of waddling feet branded into the wood to prove it.

Placing the tray of cookies into the oven, you reach out to take Rook from your mate. “Such a little stinker,” you tease, bopping your youngest on the nose. He retaliates by grabbing a fistful of your hair and you curse mentally, knowing you should’ve tied it out of his reach.

“Where are the girls?” Eris asks, peeking around the kitchen for any leftover cookie dough. In his mission to steal as much as he could for his daughters, he’d forgotten to sneak a taste for himself. The mixing bowl sits soapy in the sink and he deflates a little.

“Coloring in the den,” you answer, eyes twinkling. Your stomach swoops still at the sight of Eris, even more so whenever he interacts with his children. You knew he was loving, but seeing him like this, completely at ease with no worries tightening his shoulders, he looks ethereal. “Why don’t you get them washed up for some cookies?”

“Yes, please,” Eris says, stealing a kiss from you. Rook squeals and you swoon.

Leaving Rook with you, Eris takes off into the next room. He finds Maude and Juniper spread out on the floor, their coloring supplies strewn about. Thylix and Codon, two of his hounds, laze around both girls, having taken it upon themselves to become their guards. They hardly leave his daughters alone, often choosing to sleep beside their beds at night, though Eris knows his daughters let them jump into bed with them as soon as the door shuts behind him.

“What are my baby girls drawing in here?” Eris asks, tiptoeing forward. They startle and the hounds’ ears perk up at the sound of their master, but they don’t move. His daughters look up at him with those big, round russet eyes, and Eris knows immediately that they’re doing something they shouldn’t be.

“Daddy,” Maude pouts, hiding something in front of her. Eris’ brows furrow as he wonders what she’s keeping from him, but her younger sister, Juniper, holds her doll up in the air, proudly.

“Daddy!” June yells, pushing up onto wobbly legs and racing towards him. Eris scoops her up and she squeals, bringing her doll with her, showing off her artwork to her father. Marker streaks across the face of her plaything, reds, oranges, and pinks adorning the cheeks and dress, across the doll’s eye.

“What’s this, Junie?” Eris asks, admiring her artistic abilities. There’s potential, but if she’s going to continue her artistic streak, he better get her something more appropriate to color on. Maybe sign her up for one of the local—or Night Court—art classes.

“It’s Daddy,” she answers, beaming up at her father. His heart swells, but he doesn't seem to be comprehending what Juniper is trying to convey.

He looks around his middle daughter to his oldest, still in her spot on the ground. Her cheeks are pinked with a blush and she’s pouting at her little sister for ruining the surprise.

“Care to explain, Maude?” Eris asks, though he’s not really sure if he wants the answer.

She sighs, shoving up to her feet. She holds up her doll in front of her face like she’s going to get in trouble for what she’s done, but Eris doesn’t understand why.

Until Maude explains. “We drew your scars on our dollies,” she says, and it all clicks. The one across his cheekbone from when Beron has nicked him purposefully with the edge of his sword before he set foot into his first war. His father had said the scar would help him relate to his legion the more roughed up he looked.

Another, peeking out from the strap of the doll's dress, right above her heart. It’s a rendition of the brand on his chest, another gift from his father. He tries not to let his children see his scars, especially that one in particular, but she must’ve seen it when she’d crawled into your bed after a nightmare perhaps.

Eris’ eyes prickle but he blinks the emotion away. His throat is thick, and he distracts himself by taking a second look at Juniper's toy. Upon catching her fathers gaze on the doll, Maude speaks again. “Junie drew Uncle Lulu’s eye scars on hers. I told her we were supposed to be drawing only yours, but she didn’t listen,” Maude huffs a little, annoyed that her younger sister didn’t follow her direction.

“That’s…that’s very thoughtful, Junie,” Eris places a chaste kiss on her forehead and she grins. “You both did such a wonderful job.”

“You’re not…mad?” Maude asks, staring up at him nervously.

Juniper kicks her legs, trying to escape Eris’ grip. He lets her down and she abandons her doll, racing for the kitchen where she can hear you talking to her brother.

Eris kneels, taking Maude’s hand in his and tugging her into his chest for a hug. “No, Maude, I’m not upset. I’m impressed.”

“You really like it?” she asks shyly, pulling back so she can look him in the eyes.

Eris nods once, firmly. “I love it, Maude. You made me look perfect.”

#eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #daddy!eris #azsazz next gen #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #eris #domestic eris

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after-witch · 1 year ago

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Horrorfest: Unfurled Splendor [Yandere Xiao x Reader]

Title: Unfurled Splendor [Yandere Xiao x Reader]

Synopsis: You know daylight existed, once. You just can't remember what it really looked like.

For 2022 Horrorfest request: always night trope with xiao

Word count: 1270

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, isolation

There are certain things that you must tell yourself on repeat or you’re certain that you’ll forget them. They keep you tethered to the ground, sometimes by a thread, so that you don’t simply give up and float away.

One, you were not always here, in this little house created inside Xiao’s abode. “House” being a lofty term for a space with two rooms, a simple bathroom and open living space.

You used to live outside, and not the artificial outside that he created at your behest (and begging) but the real outside. With unpredictable weather and animals that did not behave on loops, only capable of repeating what gestures and patterns Xiao had created for you.

There were other people, people who were mean or nice or somewhere in between. You worked at a job and went to shops and had friends and family.

And there was freedom, most importantly of all. An elusive creature, now. It’s not something Xiao can create and set onto a carefully tracked loop, though you’re certain that if he could come up with a way to do so, that he would try his best.

And two--this one is easiest to forget--it was not always night. There had been sunshine, once. Warm, lovely sunshine that dappled through the trees when you walked in the woods; that bore down on you, a hot blanket, in the summertime; that shone through your windows, waking you in the morning with the delighted chirping of the birds.

Yes, you had seen the sun… but that was a long time ago. Before Xiao took you here. Before you had gone nearly mad with being stuck inside all day, and he’d offered up the solution of letting you go “outside,” which turned out to be yet another artificial world of his own creation.

Before he’d decided to make it night time and never bothered bringing back the sun. That was… weeks ago, at least. You don’t know why or when he stopped bothering with daylight. Maybe it was too taxing on him to go back and forth between night and day. Maybe he just didn’t care.

You do not ask him for the daylight again, because you should not need to ask. Yet that is what your life has become, reminding Xiao of all the things humans need to stay healthy and sane. Like a variety of food and not the same thing day after day; like blankets and pillows; like a bathroom with a properly fitted tub and toilet. Like books or clothes or things to do.

Not that he always gives you what you need. He considers most of these things “wants,” to be meted out at his own discretion.

Sunlight, apparently, fit within that category of “want.” And no matter how often you stared up at the same night sky, wishing for it to fade or at least change, he didn’t seem to pick up on things.

It’s here that he finds you, again, staring at the night sky. Only this time your thoughts have grown so sour and introspective that there are tears in your eyes, sparkling in the cool moonlight that always shines into the window a little bit, dappled through a large, leafy tree.

If the tree were real, there might be any number of nocturnal animals that call it home. As it is, there is only a stationary night-bird that calls out exactly twice an hour. Mechanical. Like a clock. You thought it pretty once, but now you hate it.

There’s a touch on your shoulder and you flinch. Xiao draws back, and says your name. Evidently, he’d said it before.

You turn, just a little, and let him see your tears. Why not? It’s not like he ever responds to them, except perhaps to excuse himself or awkwardly shove a handkerchief into your hands.

This time, he actually speaks up, although you can see the tension in his stiff posture.

“Why are you crying? What’s wrong?”

There might have been a time where you would have turned away from him, now, and went back to crying silently. Let him worry. Let him figure it out himself, if he could. But something about tonight--tonight? it’s always night, damn it--has you increasingly wound up. Your fingers curl on the windowsill. Your chest aches.

And so you whirl on him, chest heaving.

“What’s wrong is that it’s been night for weeks and it’s driving me mad and you don’t seem to care.” Your voice cracks on the last word, spiteful tears sliding down your cheeks.

He stares at you for a few long moments before looking out the window at the sky he created. And then he looks back at you with such a confused expression that it makes you want to slap him and bring him into your arms, one and the same.

“You… said you liked the stars,” he says, eyebrows furrowing. You can tell he doesn’t understand. He treats your complaints like that of a child, demanding something nonsensical in the middle of the day, perhaps due to a lack of nap. “So I’ve kept them there.”

You turn and gaze out the window at the same night sky that you’ve seen for weeks on end. You could explain that humans need daylight and sunlight. You could explain that seeing the same night sky for an extended period of time is enough to drive anyone mad.

Instead--

“Those aren’t stars,” you reply, quiet.

Behind you, Xiao huffs.

“Yes, they are. They look just like the ones--”

You turn on him, and your face begins to crack, eyes crinkling, mouth turning down. “They aren’t real stars. I want real stars. I want real sunshine. I want everything to be real. Can’t you understand that?”

Xiao’s eyes widen, and the look on his face takes on an expression of slight hurt. Just enough to notice. He raises one of his hands toward your cheek, moving to touch you.

“I… understand,” he says, finally. Slowly. Weighing your words and his own. You’re afraid to do the same, afraid to see you through his own eyes.

So you shake your head, blinking away the tears, and crawl into bed. Maybe in your dreams something will be different for once, but more often than not, the night sky leaked into your dreams, too.

You hear the sound of Xiao sitting down in the chair by the window as your brain begins to drift into the fogginess of sleep.

When you wake up, sunshine filters through the sole window inside the house. Birds chirp in a pattern that you know will loop, eventually. It’s startling, jarring. Your brain doesn’t make sense of it at first.

You slowly get out of bed, afraid that it might be a dream. You set aside the blanket, you stand up, you take a few steps to the window--and still, the scene outside is blissful, sweet daytime.

Your fingers rest on the windowsill, soaking in the scene he’s created before you. The sound of birds--a few you can spot, but you hate to look at them, knowing that you’ll recognize their pattern soon enough. A mechanical breeze that comes every so often (you don’t count the seconds between them, not yet); clouds, lazily drifting by in the blue sky, and all of it lit by an artificially bright sun stuck up high.

It’s not real. It will never be real. Only you are real, here, the only normal, human, mortal thing that will ever exist on this plane.

Behind the clouds, you can see the remnants of those artificial stars, still twinkling.

#yandere xiao #yandere xiao x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere #afterwitch writes #aw horrorfest

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smoooothoperator · 4 months ago

Text

What Was I Made For?

23: I Think I Like This Little Life

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers (👀)

Warnings: fluuuuuff

a/n: New chapter!!! As you canread it, the ending of the story is coming closer...

if you want to play a game and ask things about Dafne

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House hunting.

I remember doing it when I bought my apartment in Florence, and the memory I have of it was a good one. I was excited, being paid for the first time after my first season in Formula 1, buying all the furniture I wanted and the decorations I liked. I was excited to put my signature on a paper that said that I had a house in my name.

But now, pregnant for seven months, is a living nightmare. My back hurts, my legs hurt, my ankles are swollen, I need to go to the bathroom every now and then.

“I swear to God, if this house is not a dreamy one, I will buy again my apartment, I don't care if I just sold it” I groaned, rubbing my belly while watching the screen of Charles' phone guiding us to the location of the last house we found.

“I promise, you'll like it” Charles laughed, holding my hand and squeezing it softly.

“You said the same with the last two ones we visited” I protested. “And at the end of the tour you said something bad about them”

“They didn't have enough light!” he exclaimed, laughing.

“Oh, fuck off! Nikola Tesla invented the light bulb for something!” I groaned.

“But it's better when you have natural light, love” he sighed, rubbing my belly. “And those houses didn't have enough rooms”

“Enough? Charles, both of them had at least four rooms!”

“Sure, but what about our offices? And a room for the baby? And what if… I don't know, what if we have more kids?” he sighed. “We need space, love…”

“Y-yeah, but…”

“I promise, you will like this one” he smiled.

I sighed and nodded, looking out of the window again. The sun was shining brightly in the April sky, a soft breeze carrying the scent of blooming flowers as we drove through the outskirts of Milano. The fields were starting to turn green again, a reminder that life always continues, even after loss.

It had been a few weeks since Athena passed away, and the ache of it still lingered in my chest, but something about this day, like the way the sunlight hit the trees and the gentle kicks from Dorian in my belly, felt different. There was hope again, even if it was just a little.

I placed a hand on my belly while I let go a long sigh, feeling Dorian’s gentle kicks beneath my palm. Seven months along, and it still amazed me how close we were to meeting him.

“You okay?” Charles asked, moving his hand to my belly without tearing off his eyes from the road.

“Yeah” I sighed. “Your son, however, thinks he's the one who's driving this car”

“He's excited. Maybe he knows we’re close to finding his first home” Charles laughed, rubbing my belly.

I chuckled, looking at Charles, his hand resting on the steering wheel, his eyes focused on the road ahead. He looked calm, but I knew him well enough to sense the excitement simmering beneath the surface.

As we turned onto a narrow, tree-lined road, the GPS beeped. We took a deep breath, trying to calm our nerves while we looked at what we had in front of us: a house with beige walls that were softened by the ivy that climbs to the brown brown. From the front of the house we could see the trees that were in the backyard, and the porch of the front had enough space to leave a few cars parked on it.

“Ready?” Charles asked, turning off the car.

“Let’s do it” I nodded, feeling a bit more of hope.

Getting out of the car was a bit more of a challenge than it had been a few months ago, but Charles was by my side in an instant, his hand on my back, guiding me gently as we walked up the gravel path toward the front door.

The agent, a woman in her late thirties with a bright smile, greeted us warmly and opened the door to let us inside.

And the moment we stepped in, I felt it. The house was filled with light, large, airy rooms with high ceilings and hardwood floors that felt warm underfoot. The living room opened up to a sprawling backyard, the kind where I could already imagine Dorian running around someday, his laughter echoing through the trees.

“What do you think?” Charles said, coming closer, smiling excitedly.

I walked slowly through the space and got in the kitchen, my hand trailing over the counter, imagining mornings here with coffee brewing, making breakfast, and Dorian babbling in his high chair. The kitchen was large, with enough space for us to grow into, and the windows above the sink overlooked the garden. I could picture us, years from now, filling this space with memories.

“It feels right” I said softly, turning to Charles. “It feels like home.”

“Let’s see the rest” he smiled, and I could see the relief in his eyes.

We explored the upstairs, where the master bedroom had a balcony that overlooked the property. I stepped out onto it, the wind catching my hair, and closed my eyes for a moment, letting myself dream. I imagined holding Dorian in my arms, standing right here, watching the sunset after a long day. I could hear the soft rustle of leaves, the distant hum of life, and it felt peaceful.

“You’re smiling” Charles said behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder.

“It just feels perfect. It’s everything I didn’t know I was looking for” I smiled, turning my head slightly to look at him.

“Yeah?” he smiled happily, pressing a kiss on my cheek. “Come look at this”

He held my hand and pulled me to the nearest room. And when we walked in, my heart nearly stopped.

The room was perfect for a nursery. The walls were white and ready to be painted, with big windows that let in so much light. It wasn’t too big, but just the right size to make it feel safe, intimate. I ran my hand over a wall, imagining a crib there with soft blankets and stuffed animals. I could almost hear Dorian’s little laugh echoing in the room, feeling his tiny hands grabbing at my fingers.

“I think he’ll love it here” Charles said, his voice low and warm. He came up behind me, his hands gently resting on my shoulders. I leaned back against him, letting out a soft sigh.

“I think so too” I whisper softly.

We stood there in silence for a moment, just the two of us in that quiet room, imagining the life we were about to build. It had been a long journey, Athena’s passing had left a hole in my heart that still ached. But standing here, with Charles beside me and Dorian growing inside me, I knew that I finally found our place.

“This is it, isn’t it?” I said, turning around to face Charles. My voice trembled just a little, overwhelmed by the certainty that this house was the one.

“I knew you would like it” Charles chuckled, kissing my forehead and wrapping his arms tightly around me.

“You always left the best for the end” I laughed softly.

“Ready to make this official?” he asked with a smile, his eyes twinkling in that playful way he had.

“Let's do it” I smiled, looking around the room with a bigger smile.

We made our way back downstairs, where the real estate agent was waiting for us in the living room. She stood up when she saw us, her smile polite but professional.

“So, what do you think?” she asked, her clipboard in hand. “Do you see yourselves living here?”

I exchanged a glance with Charles, and we both smiled.

“It’s perfect” I said softly. “We love it.”

“I’m glad to hear that. We’ve had a lot of interest in this property, but I had a feeling it would be a good match for you two”she smiled, clearly pleased.

“What's the next step?” Charles asked, wrapping his arm around my waist.

“Well, we have to make an offer to the seller, then some paperwork. But hopefully I think you can have the keys of the house next week” she said, going through the paper of her clipboard and guiding us towards the table of the living room.

“There's no need of making an offer” Charles smiled. “We take it. We can pay for it”

“Are you sure?” I whisper looking at Charles.

“I am” he smiled, kissing my temple. “I saved money all my life for this, and this season I'll get paid a higher amount of money. And you just sold your apartment in Florence. We can do this, Dafne”

I took a deep breath and looked around, already picturing our future here. Dorian growing up here, making his first steps, celebrating his birthdays with his friends, having dinners with our friends…

“We can” I smiled looking at him.

“Alright then” the agent said, smiling again as she handed us the contract. “Let’s get the formalities out of the way. I’ll need your signatures here... and here.”

I watched as Charles signed first, his name flowing across the page in that elegant scrawl of his. Then it was my turn. I held the pen for a moment, my hand trembling slightly as I looked down at the contract.

This was it. This was the moment we officially chose our home.

With a deep breath, I signed my name next to his.

“Congratulations” the agent said brightly, standing up and shaking both our hands. “I’ll send the contract to the seller immediately, and we should have everything finalized within the next week. I’ll be in touch about the next steps, but for now, this house is yours. I'm going to close the sale of the house, so it means that now you can have the keys to move in as soon as possible”

I felt a wave of relief and excitement wash over me. It was real now. We had a home.

As the agent gathered her things and gave us the keys of the house, Charles and I stood by the door, watching her go. When the door finally closed behind her, Charles turned to me, his eyes filled with a quiet joy.

“Well…” he said, a teasing smile playing on his lips while he took a step closer to me and placed his hands on my hips. “We just bought a house.”

“We did” I chuckled, placing my hands on his shoulder.

He smiled and leaned closer to me, pressing his lips on mine with a wide smile. I kissed him back, breathing in deeply and giggling against his mouth.

“I can't wait to start this new chapter here, with you” he whispered. “This is all I ever wanted. A future with you”

“This feels so right” I whisper, cupping his cheek with my hand. “This house, us, our baby… This is so right”

“This is going to be the place where we build our memories. Where we raise our son” Charles said, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, his hand resting protectively on my belly.

“And maybe another one after that” I added with a grin, watching as his eyes widened in surprise.

“Oh? Already planning the next one?” he said, laughing softly. “We haven’t even finished unpacking for the first one!”

“It’s just… I feel like we’ve found our place. Everything else will fall into place now” I chuckled softly, looking into his eyes.

We stood there for a while, just the two of us, holding each other in the quiet of what would soon be our home. The house felt alive, filled with the promise of our future, and for the first time in a long time, I felt a deep, peaceful certainty settle over me.

This was where we were meant to be.

dafnemorelli added a new story

charles_leclerc added a new story

dafnemorelli added a new story

The salty breeze from the ocean hit my face as I stood barefoot in the soft, warm sand. The rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air, calming my mind in a way I hadn’t realized I needed.

I looked out at the ocean in front of me, the horizon blending with the sky. For the first time in what felt like months, I felt completely relaxed. I rested my hand on my belly, feeling a gentle kick from inside.

“You okay?” Charles’ voice came from behind me, soft and full of love.

I turned around and saw him walking toward me, barefoot, his shirt half unbuttoned and flapping in the wind. He looked so carefree, his hair tousled from the wind, and his smile brighter than the sun above us. I nodded, smiling as he wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. He placed his hands under my belly and lifted it slowly, making me sigh in relief the moment I stopped feeling the weight of the baby.

“Now I’m more than okay,” I whispered, leaning back against him. “Thank you”

We were at a quiet beach in the north of Italy, just a few hours away from Milano. It wasn’t far from home, but it felt like we had escaped the rest of the world.

Charles has a week off before he starts a triple header, and with Dorian’s arrival just around the corner, we both wanted to savor these last moments of just us.

This trip was exactly what we needed, no more doctors’ appointments, no more house hunting, no planning. Just the two of us, the ocean, and time to be together.

“You’ve been so amazing, Daf. I can’t imagine what it’s been like carrying him for the last eight months, but you’ve handled everything with so much grace” he smiled, kissing my cheek softly while he let go of my belly slowly again.

“I wasn't alone, Charlie” I smiled, resting my head on his shoulder. “You've been with me all the time. We did this together”

“Yeah” he smiled. “So many things have happened, huh? Starting our relationship, the drama with Melanie…”

“We deserved this trip so much” I giggled, turning around and hugging him, with my belly between us. “I love you, never forget that. Even when I'm screaming at you during the labor”

“I love you too, silly” he chuckled, lowering his lips to mine in a slow, tender kiss.

Everything about Charles in moments like these was gentle. His touch, his kisses, the way he held me like I was the most precious thing in the world. Every day I discover a new side of him, making me fall harder and harder in love. Now, with the awaiting of Dorian, his parental side started to get more present, and it only made me happier.

“Come on, let’s sit down. You shouldn’t be standing too long” he said, kissing my forehead.

I laughed softly, but I let him lead me to the blanket he had set up earlier. I carefully lowered myself onto it with his help, feeling the pressure of my growing belly as I adjusted into a comfortable position. Charles immediately joined me, sitting behind me so I could lean against him.

We sat like that for a while, my back against his chest, watching the waves and feeling the warmth of the sun on our skin. He had his arms wrapped around me, his hands gently rubbing circles on my belly, and every now and then, we felt Dorian kicking.

“Do you think he’ll like the beach?” I asked, smiling as I felt another kick.

“I think he’ll love it. Just like his mom” Charles chuckled softly, his breath warm against my ear.

“He seems to be enjoying it now. He’s been kicking a lot more since we got here” I giggled.

“Maybe he’s trying to say he’s happy we’re finally relaxing,” Charles teased, resting his chin on my shoulder again. “We’ve been running around so much, I almost forgot what it’s like to just sit and do nothing.”

“Me too” I admitted, leaning my head back against him. “I’m glad we took this time for ourselves. I feel like we’ve been so focused on getting everything ready for Dorian that we forgot to just enjoy being with each other. We had two hard months, huh? Searching for a house, buying one, getting it ready… And the start of your season. We really needed this”

“That’s why I wanted to bring you here. Just the two of us” he smiled, kissing my cheek. “Consider this another date. We didn't have many of them”

“Every day with you feels like a date” I chuckled, blushing softly.

“Are you blushing?” he teased me, pocking my cheek.

“Idiot” I laughed, slapping his hand softly away from my cheek.

The rest of our trip felt like a blissful, slow dream. Every day was filled with the warmth of the sun, the scent of the sea, and moments that felt intimate and precious, moments that belonged only to us.

In the evenings, we would take long, slow walks along the village, my hand always intertwined with his. I found myself leaning on him more as the weight of my belly started to tire me out quickly, but Charles never complained. He’d just slow his pace to match mine, occasionally stopping to steal a kiss or two, always making me laugh with some silly remark about how I was walking like a penguin.

One afternoon, we found a small boutique that sold handmade baby clothes. I couldn't resist stepping inside, my heart melting at the sight of tiny socks, onesies, and soft blankets. Charles smiled at me, his eyes shining with pure love.

In moments like these, feeling the kicks of our baby and holding baby clothes, I realized that this was so real, that we would have our baby in our arms in less than a month.

“I can't wait to see Dorian with those clothes” Charles said, holding the onesie in front of him.

“Me neither… I can't wait to have him with us” I smiled, rubbing my belly.

dafnemorelli

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 219.489 others

dafnemorelli Last trip before baby Dorian arrives❤️

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violetsinclair Oh God, can't wait to have him here!

charles_leclerc my love😍

fewawifan Omg wait!!! How far is she already????

dafnemorelli Eight months!! Baby Dorian will be here soon!

fewawifan Omg you answered🥹❤

charles_leclerc

liked by dafnemorelli, arthur_leclerc and 528.428 others

charles_leclerc loml ❤️

dafnemorelli 🥰❤️

arthur_leclerc Can't wait to meet Dorian🥹😍

scuderiaferrari Happy for you two ❤️f1 We need to see baby Leclerc in the paddock!

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sukioyakio · 7 months ago

Text

Siren Sukuna

an:just more headcannon on this au,and more in sight of reader. Also maybe edited or not 😭 Part|, Part||, Part|||

TheifReader who has been stealing stuff all her life,and now she’s this Sukuna company for life.(and she did once not come back with food and ended up sleeping in an empty alleyway.And she after that day she learned her lesson about the spell he put on her,her whole half body hurted)

Theifreader Who completely amazes and terrified of Sukuna.And at times she wonder if she will one day his lunch.

It was a good afternoon at the new place,and reader was very pleased with watching the little fishes in the pond.Your smiling at how cute the fishes look. Until A large sea creatures with reddish scales just bite off the fishes body and then killed them with his hands.In which your mouth dropped in sadness and disgust. And then Sukuna coming up to the coming up to the shore where you were.Just to show you how he brutally killed the fish with just his teeth and nails. “W-wwhat ..w-why the Fishes,I-i would’ve got food” You said completey upset at him eating the fishes.As you watch him tear up the fish head so easily and eating it. As you see him look at you with a Uninterested look. “Don’t care about your opinions brat,I was hungry” he replied while he sides another fish in his mouth.As you gulp down saliva in horror. ‘Oh lord,why did you give me to him,he just gonna eat me up’ You mentally said,shaking your head to the horrible thought of it.

TheifReader Who just gets lost in sight of staring at Sukuna body,and at times you wonder how such a beautiful creature would have a scary presence.(Girl is completely oblivious to her little feeling for the damn fish),Whenever she get food in the afternoon and if she has extra time she’ll looks though rich folk house and try not to get caught up in the act of robbing jewelry or jewels that reminds her of the scary siren.And then brings to him as a gift from her. After she done running away from the guards.

After running a while from the guards and making sure that the food wasn’t too shaken up by all the running (she gets her food from a old friend who had known her since she started her life a thief and treated her like a family friend) when you got to the large pond,you walked around the grass and announced your arrival to a particular siren fish.You were more happy to show the jewelry you ahem borrowed from. ”Sukuna!!Im back from My visit” You announced once again,now continue walking towards the water fall,As you wait near where the water fall to see if the red siren would appear. As you watch the sky and sun shine turn it into it most beautiful colors.You put the plates of food onto the ground so you could glance at the jewelry you brought. Dangling it in the sky The red ruby shines with the sunlight making it look so beautiful and divine.It was a Necklace with gold base but the charm was a skeleton case in a ruby gem. ”Brat im here” Sukuna response with a big yawn on his mouth as he swim where your at.His face shows disinterested in what your holding. As you turn to see him at the shore of the pond,you smile at him;you quickly put the jewelry’s in your pocket and grab the plates of food.Now Sitting off in the shore as you give him his plate of food (ever since your first day of giving him food he clearly didn’t like vegetables very much but liked meat). You haven’t look at him or touch your plate yet. He quickly grab the plate and began chomping on the cooked meats.He could see that you had something to say to him,either it was another question or another story time. ”What is it women,You haven’t touched your plate yet or it because you think very highly of me and give it to me” Sukuna says with a tease and a smug smile as he plotted another steak into his mouth. You look at him with an ‘Are you seriously think that’ kind of face.You just mutter ‘as if’ underneath your breath.As you sip out a heavy sigh.And began talking.And as observant Sukuna is when reading your expression,he couldn’t read this one.Which has him curious about what it is. “It nothing,I swear” You said with an awkward smile waving your hands as to dismiss it.Sukuna wasn’t going to have you ditch what bothering you. ”Spilled it already brat” He replied with a glare of irritation at your attempt of dismissing your point. You flinch at his gaze as you started to speak. ”o-ok alright,I’ll just didn’t think you’ll like it,but I got you a small little gift,Well it almost got me stopped by the guards but I couldn’t stop myself from getting these jewelry.It reminded me of you so here it is” You rapidly spoke with a little shy smile scratching the back of your neck. As you go into your pocket and show the necklace and the other jewelry such as rings with red gems on it. You even stole some from the those stands that sell jewelry. As you show the necklace,while holding it with delicacies. If anything hearing you talk about how stuff reminded you of him made him feel something in heart that he had never felt in his entire fish existence. Which get this scary looking fish cheeks and ears red.Who just flick your forehead off,making you groan out in pain. You put the necklace down to rub your forehead But without asking him a simple question. “So Do you like it?Can I put it on you”You asked him with a cheeky smile,As you watch him covered his face his large hand.He doesn’t want to appear weak.He just grumble about how stuipd of a brat you have to be. “Ugrh no now just eat your food before I do it for you”

Siren Sukuna who still allows you to put on the necklace on;on the very next day.With some Grumbling and hissing he allow you.In which he couldn’t admit that he didn’t enjoy seeing how you smiled at him When you were done with puttting the necklace.

Siren Sukuna who at random days Tells you mini stories about his life,either it would be about the spells he could do or how many people he had killed in one day.

“I have family out there in the ocean” He says nonchalantly without a single thought to what he said,floating in the pond watching the clouds move and the sun shining down onto them with it warmth as well it breeze of cool air. As you were doing the same watching the sky with a small smile on your face,as you lay on the bright green grass. ”that cool. .. must be nice to have family there” You breathlessy says without a the need the need to continue on. You pause for a moment before riseing up from your position and turning your head to him with a confused face. ”arent your family just fishes,how can you called them family if you literally eat them?”You answered him with your hands animating how he eat fishes. ”No you fuck tard,How dumb are you,Brat.Never mind what I said.” He replied with irritation creeping up his face. “Nuh Uh!!Your not leaving nor swimming out this conversation”

Siren Sukuna hates whenever you ask him to do your hair,or help you brush the nuts off.Like what is he your maid or somthing.(he still does it,but at times he will tug down on your hair on purpose)

”OWW!!!Please Don’t fucking brushed so hard” You said with a mumbbling of how your head hurted. It was technically your fault for asking a siren to do your hair,and the first thing he bring is a fork (I could never use a little mermaid reference 🙄)He just replied with it your fault that you don’t have a high pain tolerance or not being able to do your hair. “Shut it brat you want your hair down or not”He harshly says. “Urghh fine stupid brunt fish” you replied as soon as you finish speaking another tug was done again.You cried out in pain and curses at Sukuna. And Sukuna smirking devilish.

Siren Sukuna Who randomly blurs out that he can use a spell to give him a human form just to see your reaction.

”WAIT!!Really?!?Then why don’t you use it fish!” You exclaimed loudly as you shakes your hands up in frustration as an angry pout is painted across your face. And a smug expression is painted on his as well. ”I Still dont believe you,Fried fish,how About you show me your big fat lie of a spell!” You announced to Sukuna with a disbelieving eyes staring down at Sukuna red orbs. ”And what make you think you are deserving to see my human form or matter of fact spell,maybe if you don’t talk for a whole day then I’ll be willing to show it to you” He says with confidence and proud,his voice carrying himself as you pout for a bit then put on a fake smile. ”you know how your pretty voice of a siren would do for me when I do my job aka stealing,quick answer FUCKING EASY!” You yelled at him with your hand crossed at him. You felt a sense of pain flatter on your shoulder,making you cry out in pain. You glare at Sukuna.Ofc Sukuna pinches you if you become to loud.

Siren Sukuna who doesn’t know or want to understand what he was feeling when you came back from the city all hurt and bloody.But he hated the most is when you came back to him like your left leg isn’t broken or the fact your shoulder is bleeding out blood because of a arrow.With a reassuring smile to think that he’ll be alright to see you like that.

It was your fault for thinking that you’ll be able to steal something from the royals house.The First thing that was wrong,was that you decided to steal something in daylight.You didn’t even get anywhere near the castle.Because you landed off and broke your left leg. But you push yourself to walk into the house and quickly walked into whatever room and steal anything.But right when you were going to walk out one of the royal guards saw you and yelled at you and yelled for backup.In Which your body was in fight or flight and you started to run as fast as you could even if it meant hurting your left leg. You were able to get on top of houses to jump onto other house so the royal guard couldn’t get you.But even that they were able to land a arrow onto your shoulder. All you thought was going back to the pond. When the guard shot you in the should you were going to jump down the last house,but you slip your landing badly,hitting your head onto the building but your made it,and continue to push the pain and run down onto the grass of the exits. But your head was bleeding and blood dripping from your head onto your face. Full on running,toward the pond and fully escaped the guards.You try to maintain your breathing while trying to keep focus on your movements and not the pain that radiates through your body.As you pass through multiple trees. When you made it to the pond you couldn’t even see clearly,holding your right arm close to at least stop the bleeding.You couldn’t think properly as you called out for a fellow fish. “S-sukuna!!-You cough up a bit of blood walking more closely to the pond before-Sukuna. . . I’m back.”You breathlessly spoke up,as your breathing was becoming more heavy and unsteady. Sukuna lazily got out of the little cave inside the water fall and now swimming up to the surface with a completely disinterested look. That until he saw you in that state,His eyes widened in fear or in shock or in anger he couldn’t tell. ”What the fuck happened!”He exclaimed in a harsh tone but lance with concern.Already in your direction.He could see that your breathing isn’t steady. And the fact you couldn’t even stand properly. “O-oh hi Sukuna… L-look what I got for. . Y-you” You replied barley properly with each other word your breathing get more shaky. You took out two bracelet pieces with a weak small. ”Fucking Brat!! I didn’t ask for that! I’m asking what the fuck happened to your body!!You can’t even walk or breathe properly!!Stop fucking smiling at him like that When your ass is fucking bleeding out so much”He yelled with a stern and cold voice as his eyes were filled with anger,fear,and worry. His heart beating and pounding against his heart.He fucking didn’t even know why he so scared if that what he calls it. “Ha-ha … you should look at . . . Yourself. . it was.. T-the guards”You said so weak and small before you could even get to give his bracelet.your vision turn black and you collapse onto the grassy ground. When Sukuna saw you collapse onto the ground his heart sank into a thousand pieces,He scream your name out as he quickly transformed into his human form and carried you into his large body. He started to perform his healing spells on you,as he curse multiple times underneath his breath,about how dumb you are and that he hates how you brings him things that he doesn’t need like your jewelry’s. He nevers wants to see you like this ever again.You made a deal with him and you will keep it.

Siren Sukuna Who makes sure to visit the city,especially to the royal guards and burn and killed multiple people with the same logo of the arrow that was used to shoot you in the shoulder. And when he was done he cancel his fire spell and Grabs him clothes for him to cover his naked body and some clothes for you too. (He says that he did this not for you,yea right.But for him to remember that he is still the strongest creature alive)

That all I wrote today,I hope you like this one,even though I Think I wrote a little too much 🥲

But if you have any suggestions or ideas or opinions on this please feel free to share them in the comments.

Made by @sukioyakio

also thank you for 180 followers

#jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader

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