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foreverdolly · 6 months ago

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a/n: here is the promised teaser for the final chapter of "i just ride" !

Your ribs hollowed themselves out, your heart echoing loudly in your own ears as your feet pounded after his long legged pace.

The water was already squeaking in your shoes and soaking through to your socks. Your clothes were as good as ruined- hair clinging to your cheeks, neck and back. You didn’t stop running though. Not until you caught up to him. The unrelenting rain threatened to blind you, but you pressed on.

You were often exposed to the way that your parents fought like cats and dogs. They’d put distance between themselves, your father leaving for the night to go out and drink his sorrows. Distance never meant anything good. It opened the door to the inevitable: the leaving.

His blonde hair had turned a dull mousy brown now that it was completely soaked through, his waves now flat against his neck. You could see him fairly well… all thanks to the headlights.

“What’s so wrong with us going back to normal? You’re my best friend, Austin. Please.” You felt like you just might die if he left you. You’d be trapped in town, condemned to spend the rest of your life in small town monotony. You’d marry some local schmuck and move into some horribly mundane home right down the street from what had been your own childhood hell.

Austin wasn’t just your safety net. You feared that a future without him in it wasn’t going to be a happy one. Austin was the sole owner and contributor of your happiness.

It was the desperation in your voice that caused him to turn and face you. Austin despised the idea of you being in distress more than anything. He’d made a vow to protect you all those years ago, and all the while there had been no one there to protect him. It never mattered though. Not when he could walk the one mile it took to get to your neighborhood so that he lay his bruised and beaten form down on your bed. The smell of your floral shampoo on your pillows acted as a salve, and with his own problems forgotten he would burrow himself deep under your comforters. You’d ramble on about the most random things, trying to keep his mind off of the fresh welts. The sound of your voice and your laugh was more than enough for him. That was the only protection he really needed. The constant beatings from his father might have caused him physical pain, but nothing could truly hurt him when he knew that he had you. Nothing else had ever mattered.

But when the boy had matured into a young man, the comfort of knowing that he would always be your best friend had lost its spark. It just didn’t sound right anymore. Maybe Austin was selfish when it came to you, but it didn’t seem good enough. It wasn’t until a boy in his class had suddenly packed up and moved that the blonde haired child had realized why it would never be enough.

He simply couldn’t live without you, and you and your upper-middle class family could move at the drop of a dime.

No phone calls or messily written letters would ever be enough to satiate him. The whimpering, childlike attachment that he had to you could have been compared to that of a baby with their blanket or a prized stuffed animal. You were comfort to him. You were home- and Austin had grown up never knowing what that truly was. You were the only definition of the word that he could ever truly relate to.

He had to see you. Be near you. Hug you. Hold you- and he didn’t want any more miles than the one that it took to walk to your house to come between the both of you. Not if it was too far for him to walk on foot.

And then it all clicked into place for him. All those years ago… he’d known exactly what it was that he felt for you. Everything- all at once.

Austin was in love with you. There wasn’t a point in time that he could recall those feelings changing, rather they had just always been there. They just meant something different to him now. He had been old enough to put a label on the complicated, earth shattering feelings that he had felt for all of his life. Loving you was as easy as breathing, and felt just as natural. Loving you was his favorite thing to do, because without it he feared that he just might curl up into a ball and cease to exist.

He’d die in that run down trailer park and the moldy ceilings just might finally collapse on top of him and swallow him up whole.

Every burn from his father’s cigarette. Every punch, slap, kick. Every curse and muttered obscenity. Every insult. Every hungry, dinner-less night.

You made it all worth it. He’d wake up each morning with a smile on his face, knowing that you’d be there with an extra sandwich in your lunchbox with his name on it and an endless amount of comfort. You sung his praise on a constant basis, and you’d single handedly saved him from his horrific reality.

Being your best friend meant everything to him, but maturing comes with the realization that all good things must come to an end. Eventually you’d start to date someone and get serious. Next would come marriage and babies, and what would he be then? Where would that leave him? He remembered how horrified he had been when he had asked his seventh grade teacher, Mrs Powell, who her best friend was.

“Well. . . Austin, when you get to be my age you don’t really have a best friend. Not really, at least.”

And there it was. The hard truth. The reality of his situation. The teen could no longer sit around and pretend that he’d be fine with taking a backseat in your life, so long as he remained in the car at least. He couldn’t pretend that he was fine with staying in the friendzone forever. So he’d made a habit of scaring off boys in the class that seemed to take a shine to you. He sabotaged nearly every date that you had in high school, sitting you down after meeting every “boyfriend” of yours only to tell you that he hated them. That they weren’t good for you, and that he’d heard from other guys in school that they were a bit of a ladies man. He’d dried your tears when no one had asked you to your senior prom, only to be able to ask you himself.

He had deluded himself in that overcrowded, dimly lit gym that one day you’d realize that you loved him. One day you’d realize that he was the one that you were meant to be with.

But graduation passed and now here you two were, standing out in the rain after years of dancing around the truth. No matter how long Austin had tried to hide from it, it was finally there. Looming far too close to ignore.

The end.

It felt like he was staring Death in the eyes. Hell, he probably was. Austin wasn’t sure how long he could live without you. It wouldn’t be like cutting off a limb and learning to thrive without it. It would be like functioning without lungs, a brain- some necessary internal organ that couldn’t survive outside of the body.

“Jesus fuckin’ christ-” He muttered, wiping angrily at the rain on his face before turning sharply on his heel so that he was fulling facing you.

You had to suck in a breath, legs buckling in shock as you blinked up at him. Your bottom lip began to quiver as you tried hard to keep from crying. He hated when you looked destroyed like this. It was rare to see you without that signature smile of yours brightening up your face. The urge to fall at your feet and apologize was overwhelming, but the embarrassment of this entire situation kept his feet firmly planted on the ground.

“I don’t want things to go back to normal,” He screamed over the deafening sound of the rain, throwing his arms up to the sky as if somehow it just might answer his silent prayers. “What’s the whole point of any of this? Of us.” He motioned between your two soaked bodies, his eyelashes kissing at the corners as he tried his hardest to shield his baby blues from the onslaught of water that poured over the both of you.

Your heart didn’t just break. It fucking imploded.

In your twenty years of life you have experienced your fair share of heartache. You’d cried and cried until you were blue in the face. You knew what true emotional turmoil felt like, and all before your tenth birthday. Never in your life had you felt heartbreak so severe that it caused a physical reaction. Pain.

It felt like you were having a heart attack. Your shoulders hunched, and suddenly you found it hard to keep yourself standing up. You couldn’t help but double over, melting in on yourself. Your once white sneakers were now a dusty brown, the backroad mud clinging to your high waisted jeans and hands as you tried to brace yourself on the ground. Your fingers found purchase in the mud, and you clung to it, balling your fists around it. Sucking in breath after breath. Reminding yourself that this couldn’t kill you, no matter how it felt like it might.

Gone. Gone. This was it. He was leaving you.

You felt one of his hands on your back, his usually warm skin now cold due to the rain. Distantly you could hear him calling your name, shaking at your shoulders relentlessly to try and get some sort of reaction out of you. You were inconsolable as you tried to sort out your jumbled thoughts. You needed to speak to him. Needed him to clarify what was happening.

“Are you leaving me?” You couldn’t feel your lips anymore, and maybe it was due to the fact that you were hyperventilating. A panic attack was seizing your limbs. Making you useless. Never in your life had you experienced something like this before. The freezing cold rain did nothing to ground you.

You remembered your school counselor meeting with you all those years ago. She had told you that jumping in a cold shower when you felt an attack coming on would jolt you out of it. The practice had become routine. This time it wasn’t helping. You looked up at Austin the best that you could, eyes wide and watery, the day old mascara dripping down your cheeks all the way to the corners of your lips.

You looked like a fallen angel, Austin thought. The sight of you so hideously afraid and upset made him want to jump off the nearest cliff. Because he’d seen you worked up before, but you’d never looked so alone. You always had him, and now there was doubt in those eyes.

You looked like a child kneeling on the ground like this. Scared of being abandoned.

“I-I. . .” His plush lips parted and closed as he fought to find the right words. If he said them and then got rejected, then he could finally end this. He could grieve the loss of his lifelong love and then maybe learn how to be your friend again after mourning it all. All he knew was that he could never leave you. Not really, at least.

You were ingrained in him.

Bone deep.

“I’m twenty one years old. . . and I have a job. Not a very good one, but a better job than I ever expected to land myself. What’s the point of growing’ up if I can’t do that with you?” He was dancing around the words. He knew that he was, and you were too upset to pick at his sentence for hiding meanings.

“I’ve done all of my growing with you. What do you mean? What do you mean?”

“Shit,” He spat out, his hand moving to grip at the fabric of your shirt, pulling you up so that you’d look back up at him. What he was about to say was important. Life changing, and he needed you to look at him while he said it all. “I’m goin’ to have to watch you date someone. And get serious with them. I’ll know that they’re kissin’ you and f-f. . .” He nearly vomited as he bit out the next word. “Fuckin’ you. I’ll watch you get married and pop out a few kids. I’ll be an uncle by association, and when they’ll get older all I’ll ever be is ‘the guy’ that comes over every Thanksgivin’.” He looked like he was in physical pain, his face twisted with obvious disgust. Still, he continued speaking, unable to stop now that he was finally putting it all out on the table.

“You’ll move away- probably for your husband's job, and I’ll never get to see you. The phone calls will be few and far in between because you have a family to take care of, and before you know it all I’ll ever be is a face in a yearbook that you keep tucked away on a shelf.” His hand shook as he brought it up to his chest, slapping his palm against the spot over his heart. “And I can’t do that. I don’t have it in me. I’ll die. I really will.”

#i just ride series #austin butler fic #austin butler #austin butler fluff #austin butler smut #austin butler angst #austin butler x reader #austin butler x you #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fanfiction

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twisted-king · 7 months ago

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OOOO IDEA, how about the OB boys with a s/o who has an ESA (Emotional Support Animal) that they somehow convinced Crowley to allow them to have (because they literally need the animal). And the esa comforting them after their OB 🥺

Literally kissing you on the forehead rn.

Sorry about the exlusion of Jamil, idia and Malleus.

No ideas about Jamil, not sure how Idias would fit in... and Mal mal isnt finished

This is angstier than I thought it would be <3

TW: Panic attacks (Isolating + silent types), narcolepsy

Feel free to correct me if i got a certain experience wrong, I am a studying Psychology major so it would help me with my understanding of anything!

Remeber: ESAs and Service animals are different!

Overblot gang with an S/O with an ESA

First things first:

Lets say you're in second year, so you're dating the OB boys before the OB.

Going to keep the particular support need vauge, but it is panic related, reader is sensitive to loud noises and textures feeling wrong.

You 100% convinced crowley to let your ESA to stay with you because:

he is sooooo kind

you wouldn't let a poor defenseless panic-prone human in an ALL MAGIC BOYS SCHOOL alone would you????

Now with that out of the way:

Riddle Rosehearts

Animal: British Shorthair (cat)

I'm gonna call this cat Queenie

Riddle's Overblot wasn't really something you were ready for in any capacity.

Your usually kept together boyfriend was suddenly some... angry, monsterous thing.

This wasnt the Riddle that got you high quality noise cancelling headphones for unbirthday parties, the same Riddle who you spent so much time learning and growing with. Your dutiful boyfriend who was learning how harsh his punishments were with you...

That Riddle wasnt here right now.

Queenie circles you, nuzzling into your legs.

But its too late, you've shut down. Its hard to move, your heart feels like it doesnt have a beat but the hurt of an ever beating heart remains present.

Your breathing quickens, your knees buckle in from under you.

the dull thud of of your body hitting the slightly overgrown grass of heartslabyul is the last thing you hear as you slowly drown further into your panic.

Riddle, on the other hand, Just came to from his OB, staring at his dormmates worried and horrified faces. He feels weak, he knows what just happened, and he feels HORRIBLE....Oh god.

Are YOU okay??? where are you? Where is his S/O

That's when he spots you, your tear striken face, Queenie laying on top oof your chest, your hands shakily petting her back in sporadic, unrythmic strokes as her face snuggles further into your chest.

What has he done?

Riddle feels awful.

He promised to never be the cause of any panic for you. He wanted to be a safe space for you.

But his need for order seems to have taken over and ruined yet another important relationship in his life.

Despite his fatigue, he hesitantly appraches, keeping about 2 meters away from you. He knows you don't want anyone too close by right now.

When you show signs of calming down, He's there, silently and patiently sitting across from you.

"Do... do you want to talk about it..?"

You respond with a shake of your head.

He nods, you two remain in silence. One preparing for a potentially life-changing talk, the other rocking about as they cradle their cat

Leona Kingscholar

Animal: Corn Snake

His name is Zazu (shhhh)

Leona liked things quiet, and calm.

Thats what made you two work, at least according to him.

But, you knew and Malleus and Magift was a sore subject for him, you were kind of ready for his yearly temper, it caught you off gaurd last year, but this year you felt like you could really stand by his side!

Besides, a year in this hectic world with Zazu really helped stabilize your mood!

Until it wasn't.

A roaring stampede instead of a crowed, screams of terror instead of cheer, and your boyfriend, slowly turning your friend, Ruggie, into sand.

It was too much, too many shoves, too much noise, your friend almost died

You hold Zazu's little head gently, the soft, smooth texture of his scales your only vice as you duck under the bleachers of the magift stadium.

It's there and only there, all alone with your snake that you're able to break down and cry.

Leona groaned as he came to, he knew this was a stupid plan and a stupid decision. He could have just trained everyone properly, spend some actual time with you. He could have- Wait... where were you?

Despite his drained energy, he needed to know where you were. He put a hand up, stopping the chatter of his former victims, attemping to listen in for any sign of you.

He hears the soft mumbling of your attempts to talk to yourself

"Can't even trust em enough to tell me, I knew i should have stayed at home, this is why no one will accept yo-" hisssss

Okay, he had to do something

He rushes across the nearly empty stadium, suprising everyone (Except Ruggie maybe, he's kind of used to Leona)

"Herbivore?!" he stands outside the stands you're under

"I don't... I don't want to see you right now... I don't want you to see me."

"Babe- I... alright. Can I be with you right now?" "no." "I'm coming in anyway."

and he does.

He enters the darker space to find you huddled ong the ground, gripping onto your sleeve with one hand, the other coiled but zazu, who seems to lay still across your shoulders.

"I'll just be here." "Why?" you mumble "For you." he states

That makes you chuckle "You sap.."

Hisss <3

Azul Ashengrotto

Animal: Mop dog

Mop dog named Max...uh... Maxie

Okay so, unfortunately Azul did NOT like Maxie at first

But he got used to him because you two are a package deal

You knew Azul had insecurities, and his own...moments

You and Azul had a comfortable routine, you and him are both realtively particular, he needs a level of order in his life, and his comfort zone is very well kept. So you two kind of fell into a step.

Despite your realtive bliss spending most days in his office or the backrooms of the Lounge. You knew his business was his passion.

You also knew he tended to get a bit... ambitious.

You and Maxie knew to stay away during midterms, it was bound to get chaotic. And Azul gets kind of... gift-bomby around this time... it isn't the most comfortable.

Things typically died down a few days after midterms, so you decided to visit your boyfriend.

On the complete wrong day.

You took Maxie with you, ready to greet Azul after his busier week but instead you find...

Leona? with a pile of sand around him by Azul's vault... Oh no.

Maxie softly appraches a sullen Azul and nudges his leg with his paw.

Something seemed to snap because all of a sudden the sneaky yet loving Azul Ashengrotto you knew was... huge eight tentacles and crazed.

He shoves Maxie away, sending him to the ground (mind you, he's a pretty big dog)

He shoved your dog.

He's stealing things, he's refusing to be "worthless" "weak" "stupid and clumsy"

Everything you've always secretly felt you were... oh no...

Maxie rushes toward you.

You slowly place yourself on the ground.

You've fainted.

Azul comes to, he sees Ace, Deuce, the Prefect... Leona... and you? when did you get here? on the ground... Maxie gaurding your sleeping form.

He... overblotted.

How could he be so stupid?? everything seemed to be in pla e did he not count something or- WHY ARE YOU HERE?

Azul approaches you and Maxie, he dismisses the prefect and gang, solely focused on you.

Maxie opts to lie on top of you, promptly waking you up

"oof... what... what happended"

"I'm... so sorry" "Oh. right."

Maxie greets you with kisses, happily nudgeing your cheek accompanied by his happy barks. You sratch his head "I'm ok... down boy."

Azul apologetically stares at you, hesitant to say more.

You look up to him, sighing against Maxie. Your eyes narrowed "I thought we agreed." "I know I just... I can't help it." "Therapy." "I'll apply tomorrow afternoon, I promise."

Vil Schoenheit

Animal: Poodle

Her name is Georgette

Vil and Georgette get along realtively well. She doesn't shed, you keep her well groomed, and you're usually more on task with her around.

You like to joke that Vil reminds you of Georgette. He claims he is much more refined than your dog. She doesn't seem to like it much either.

He likes taking you out to set with him. He trusts you to behave and know's you feel safe both around him and whenever Georgette is around, he respects that.

Vil pets Georgette like an evil mastermind sometimes? So maybe that should have been a warning sign.

The VDC was fast approaching, Vil is under a lot of stress; he's been a harsh coach, his popularity stays at the same place consistently, he's FINALLY given the opportunity to beat Neige "once and for all"

VDC happens, you're helping the Prefect overlook how things are running. Overlooking the practices.

Vil does absoltely beautifully! and for once, Georgette agrees.

Neige does this old nursery song, and you're more than confident Vil will win.

You leave the prefect to handle the rest while you head to the stalls to buy a drink for Vil.

He deserves a treat after all <3

When you come back, everything seems fine but, the stadium is empty though...

And suddenly everything is falling around you

You take Georgette and quickly duck behind one of the seats.

Vil's distorted voice echoes throughout the stadium, you cannot quite see him but you see the giant MONSTER lurking behaind him.

When he comes to..

Vil is downright ashamed. He knows trying to poison someone is wrong. He knows he doesn't get to decide whether or not someone lives... Especially not for a glorified popularity contest.

And that's when he spots Georgette's thankfully obnoxiously large bow peeking out from behind one of the seats.

That is when he knows he has to check in on you. You are never far from Georgette.

"Darling? Meine Geliebte, are you alright.." You're huddled with your poodle. Rubble is strewn about around you. Your eyes remain shut as you mutter to yourself.

"It's ok, it's fine. you're safe. I-it's okay.." Georgette's fur is soft, you continue to trace little patterns into her well groomed coat.

Vil sighs to himself, relived you're at least ok, but he's worried. You have Georgette for a reason, and he knows just how much progress you've made to gain the confidence to live your daily life and he may have just destroyed that.

He remains by your side

#twisted wonderland #twistedwonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst azul #twst vil #twst leona #twst riddle #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #vil schoenheit x reader

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creepycranberry · 4 months ago

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Same people, Different circumstances

Eddie Munson x mom reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, not proofread

You sat in the dark, covering your ears in search for some reprieve from the wailing. You had been crying too, for hours it had been like this.

You felt guilty for just letting her cry but you were so exhausted. She had a fever, she spat out whatever medicine you tried to give her, you had the noise machine on, you shushed and hummed until your throat was dry but nothing worked.

She wouldn’t eat or sleep or stop crying and it was becoming too much for you alone.

You didn’t understand moments like this. You had done all of this alone. You found out you were pregnant in a rest stop bathroom alone, you had gone to doctors appointments alone, sat in the bathroom puking by yourself, you set up the nursery alone, you drove yourself to the hospital and gave birth alone, every single step of the way you’ve done this completely alone.

Aside from your landlord, an old Cuban lady who spoke with a thick accent and watched Winnie while you went to work.

But she was away visiting family this week, so you were utterly and completely alone.

You hadn’t meant to call him, you meant to call your upstairs neighbor to see if they had a thermometer because yours had crapped out when you needed it most. But instead when the ringing stopped it was his voice.

“Hello?” A deep groggy voice mumbles into the phone and you hiccup the sob you had been working on keeping down so your neighbor wouldn’t be too concerned, “hello?” He asked again, much more awake this time.

“Eddie I didn’t mean- I called the wrong number, just go back to sleep I didn’t mean-“

“Is everything alright sweetheart?”

He shouldn’t be so sweet to you.

Sure you ended things on good terms but this wasn’t anything he should be worried about.

“Yeah, yeah it’s fine.”

“Why are you crying?” He asks softly and you bite your lip to keep from crying more.

“She won’t take her medicine, and she won’t stop crying and I don’t know what to do.”

“Who? Teddy?” He asks, referring to the tabby cat that was likely hiding under your bed.

“No- no. Um, Winnie, my kid. She has a fever and I don’t have a thermometer and she won’t take her medicine and I called you accidentally.”

There’s rustling over the phone and the muffled sound of a girls voice. Dammit.

“Eddie if you’re busy-“

“No, I’m fine. I’ll be over soon,” the jingling sound of his belt rings over the phone, “you need me to grab anything from the store or do you want me to just come right over or..?”

“Eddie really you don’t have to-“

“I’ll grab some take out too, be there in a minute.” And then the phone clicks off.

You go back into the nursery where a still wailing Winnie is sat up in the middle of her crib, covered in puke.

You feel guilty for stepping out to make the call and you have to work to keep yourself calm as you go to the crib to pick her up, shushing and apologizing as you head towards the bathroom.

You go through the motions of giving her a bath despite her fussing.

Your thoughts drift to your embarrassment over calling Eddie. You didn’t even know how it happened, maybe you still had him on speed dial or something?

And explaining to him that you called him over your kid who he’s never met or heard of is in your top ten most awkward moments.

But for right now you need to focus on your daughter.

You wash the puke out of her hair and the little rolls of fat on her legs and the crack of her neck and you try to softly shush her.

Just as you’re drying her off there’s a knock at the front door. You essentially swaddle her in her towel as you go to get the front door.

Eddie is standing there with take out bags in one hand and a handful of random things in the other.

“Hey.” You haven’t seen him in about a year. You both promised to keep in touch but life got in the way.

“Hi.” He smiles sweetly and moves further into the apartment. He sets down the stuff in his hands and Winnie momentarily quiets down when she notices a new presence in the room, “hi Winnie,” Eddie coos, hand moving to smooth down her wet hair, “I’m Eddie.”

“You really didn’t have to come over here, Eddie. I meant to call my neighbor but I guess I forgot to take you off of the speed dial on my landline and-“

“Don’t worry about it. I told you I’m always here to help and I meant it.” He assures you, reaching out to the baby to see if she’d rather go to him, which to your surprise she does, “hey girlie.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a thermometer. He takes her temp and grimaces.

“I know you just sounded busy.” You shrug, heading over to the laundry basket on the couch to grab a onesie for her. You pluck a diaper off of the coffee table and much to Winnie’s chagrin you take her away from Eddie to change her diaper and dress her.

“I really wasn’t.”

“I’m not sure your date would agree.” You comment, velcroing the diaper closed.

“I didn’t realize you could hear her.” He mumbled, scratching the back of his neck.

You just shrug.

“Can you just hold her for a second while I change the sheets in her crib?”

Eddie nods, reaching out for the baby who has stopped wailing but is still fairly fussy.

You busy yourself with her sheets, grabbing the extras from her drawer and taking off the soiled ones. You try and breathe and not dwell on the oddity of the situation.

When you make it back out to the living room Eddie is attempting to feed Winnie a cracker.

“She’s too small for that, Eds.” You inform him and he jumps, holding the cracker away from the baby and taking a bite for himself to hide what he was doing.

“I-I know I was just-“

“Feeding her a cracker?” You smile and he begrudgingly nods.

“She just seems hungry.” He shrugs.

“She probably is but she won’t take a bottle. I’ve been trying on and off for hours.”

You lean your head onto your hands and close your eyes.

“Well how about you eat something and I’ll see if she’ll take a bottle from me?” Eddie suggests, propping the baby on his hip and heading for the bag of takeout on the coffee table.

“Good luck with that.” You mumble, rubbing your face to wake yourself up. Eddie heads for the pantry and pulls out the baby formula and a bottle. He makes a bottle with Winnie on his hip, humming a Bowie song to her as he shakes her bottle, “since when do you know how to make a bottle?”

“Steve and his girl had a baby a couple months ago, I’ll babysit every now and then when he needs me to.” Eddie shrugs, offering the bottle to Winnie who gives him and dirty look and shoves the bottle away, “well you gotta tell me what you want, girlie.” He tells her, and then the pouting starts. Her little bottom lip juts out and she looks at him like he just cut off her teddy bears head and he panics, holding her close and begging her not to cry, “come on, Winnie, don’t cry. If you cry your mom won’t ever let me come back and then I’ll cry and cry and cr-“

He smacks his head on the cabinet he opened but forgot to close and curses.

Winnie giggles and reaches up to where he hit his head and she pats it, a little harshly. Eddie frowns at her and then lightly pats her back on the forehead.

She laughs again and you smile, relieved after not hearing the sound for an entire day.

“You little sadist.” Eddie grumbles and walks her over to the couch, bottle still in hand. This time when he offers it to her she takes it, leaning onto his arm a bit more.

Eddie looks at you with a grin that never fails to make your stomach flip and you smile back.

“Your turn.” He nods to the take out and you groan.

“You didn’t need to bring food Eddie, the fact that you came here at all is enough.” You try and convince him but he isn’t having it.

“Well I’ve gotta make sure you eat too.” He shrugs and you sigh, opening the bag to find the logo of a Chinese place y’all used to order from all the time.

You frown slightly and Eddie panics a little, “did I get your order wrong? I could have sworn-“

“No. You got it exactly right.” You assure him, a tight smile gracing you features and Eddie shakes his head in confusion, setting Winnie’s bottle on the table and burping her.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Nothing I just- it’s weird I guess.” You shrug, opening the takeout container and a plastic fork.

“What do you mean?”

“Just us. It’s just- we haven’t spoken in a year, I have a kid you found out about an hour ago and yet the second I call you you’re here, with food you know I love, my exact order, and you’re feeding and burping my baby and-“ and it should have been like this all along.

Eddies quiet for a moment, like he heard what you almost said and is trying to figure out how to react, “I mean circumstances are different but we’re still us. This is how things were before… us. If you need me I’m here and if I had called you before this you would have been there as well.” A pause, “right?”

“Of course.”

“So how did she happen by the way?” Eddie asks, changing the subject.

“Well you see, when a man and woman meet and have a few too many drinks almost every time they’re together-“

“Okay, okay, I get the picture.” Eddie grimaces and you lightly giggle, “is he around?”

“Not really. I told him and he asked me if I wanted him there and he was really practically a stranger and I asked if he wanted to be there and he answered honestly. And I told him that was fine. I don’t expect anything from him, he sends money every now and then but other than that she’s never met him.” You explain, lightly combing the babies hair with your fingers.

“Shitbag.” Eddie mumbles.

“He knew he wouldn’t be much of a father and he was honest about it. Would rather that than he feel obligated to stick around and make her life hell.” You shrug and Eddie nods.

“So you’ve done all of this alone?” Eddie asks and you nod.

“Pretty much.”

“That is so wildly unfair.”

You raise your eyebrows, a grin growing on your lips despite yourself, “It's nice to hear someone else say it.”

Eddie nods, standing up and cradling Winnie, bouncing her in his arms and pacing in an effort to get her to sleep.

“I really hoped she was yours at first.” You confess and Eddie's eyes widen, “don’t get too freaked out, I just knew that if she was yours I wouldn’t have to do it alone. And that maybe she could have some kind of dad figure.”

“That makes sense. We could pretend she was mine.” He smiles and you shake your head.

“Whatever, Munson.”

“No, I’m serious. It doesn’t have to be a big thing I’m just saying that like, if you need me to take her for a weekend I could take her for a weekend. And I could help when she starts school or when she’s sick. I can teach her to ride a bike and I can scare her first boyfriend and beat his ass if he hurts her and I could teach her how to check her oil and change her tires. And when she gets caught drinking I can pretend to be disappointed and help give her a really stern talking to.”

You laugh and nod, “maybe. I’m gonna let you think about what that kind of commitment would entail first though.”

Eddie smiles and looks down at a now sleeping Winnie, “she looks just like you.” You nod, “she’s got my eyes though.” He quips and you shake your head.

“Oh whatever.”

Eddie grins and you have to try your best not to feel that familiar ache in your bones.

He goes to the nursery and leaves you in the living room by yourself with your food. After a moment you hear the sound of a noise machine and the click of a door closing and then he’s back.

“You made that look so easy.” You grumble as he sits next to you.

“I’ve just got that fatherly touch, yknow?” You laugh again and he smiles. Not a grin, not a cheeky, mischievous smile. a content, comfortable smile that warms you in a way you’ve longed for since you broke up, “how’ve you been?”

You shrug, “I’ve been. If I keep moving I don’t have to think about how I am.”

“Are you happy?” Eddie asks, moving to face you so his knee is touching yours.

“Sometimes,” you shrug, “every now and then it gets stressful but a good day is a really good day.” Eddie nods, “what about you?”

He gets really quiet, “I’m not happy.”

Your face falls and you instinctively start repeatedly smoothing his hair behind his ear in the way you know comforts him, “what’s up, hon?”

“I just don’t have much anymore I guess.” He shrugs, “I don’t have much purpose.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is. I work and I try to meet new people but I just don’t feel like it’s worth it.” He explains.

“Why not?”

He’s quiet again, mulling over whether or not to give an honest answer, “because none of them are you.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t- don’t think too much about it, like don’t read into it too much I just- you’re fulfilling for me. You held on and you helped and you gave me this sense of purpose that I haven’t really been able to get since…”

You stay quiet and wait for him to finish what he was saying but he doesn’t.

“Do you wanna stay here tonight? I mean, just in case Winnie wakes up and would rather have you get her than me?”

Eddie just about melts. He rests his forehead on your shoulder and nods.

“Yeah. I mean, I wouldn’t want to disappoint Winnie.”

————————

Pt 2

#eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #stranger things #fanfiction #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x female reader #fanfic

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multicohn · 3 months ago

Text

summary: the chinese grand prix is right around the corner and guanyu has a plan.

warnings: none

pairing: fem! reader x zhou guanyu

genre: fluff

face claim: none

author note: praying zhou has a seat next year 🙏🙏 ( im delusional )

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“hi, honey” y/n kissed her boyfriend gently as he laid down with a groan before putting his head into her lap

guanyu had been unusually nervous for the last few days and it reminded y/n of their first year as a couple. whenever they made eye contact, he would blush before quickly looking down or away to try and avoid her eyes. she wondered why, but brushed it off since he the grand prix weekend officially started tomorrow.

“i found these sound proof headphones for cats and we tried them out today, but it might not work for the actual race. sorry” guanyu looked up at his girlfriend as she ran her hands through his hair

“it’s okay, she would’ve gotten startled by how fast the cars go” y/n hummed at this, but still felt a little disappointed

guanyu had mentioned that he felt jealous about seeing the drivers who are able to bring their pets along with them and since y/n had time off from studying / working ( or both, depends ) she tried to find soundproof headphones or earplugs for sweetcorn so they could surprise him at the race, but y/n hasn't been able to find any that sweetcorn found comfortable or would actually work at the race track. she eventually told guanyu since he came back much earlier one day and was very confused as to why she was blasting music with sweetcorn running around wearing pink headphones. he knew it was almost impossible, but appreciated the thought, effort, and dedication she put into potentially surprising him with bringing sweetcorn.

“darling?” y/n looked down at her boyfriend who kept glancing between her and the tv. she had been so caught up in her own thoughts that a wedding scene was now playing instead of them being on the first date — wow, she really missed a lot

“would you ever want to get married?” he questioned softly and she paused for a moment

y/n has dreamed about getting married and having a wedding; what she’d wear while walking down the isle, where it would be held, how everything would look, y/n had it all planned. however, she never saw it actually happening, but then she met guanyu. imagining a future together with him always made her smile and giggly.

“to you? absolutely” he suddenly sat up and kissed her deeply which made y/n laugh before kissing him back. once they pulled away, she could only smile at guanyu while he stared into her eyes

“i love you”

“i love you too”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

guanyu let out a nervous sigh making valtteri look at him. he had confided in the older male for advice since he’s been married before and guanyu didn’t know who else to ask since he isn’t very close with a lot of other the drivers, but guanyu quickly realised that he shouldn’t have told valtteri anything as he crushed his idea the moment it left his lips.

“i would run” was his response to guanyu’s plan about proposing to y/n after the race

“what? why?”

“she might feel pressured to say yes, it could scare her, might be embarrassing if you don’t even finish…” he trailed off and guanyu tried his best not to kick him

“don’t say that!” valtteri just shrugged

meanwhile, y/n was completely unaware about her boyfriend’s dilemma as she was at his place watching sweetcorn. she promised him that she’ll attend the actual race on sunday, but will stay back until then. though disappointed, he understood and kissed her longingly before being dragged away and kicked out by his mother who had come over to keep y/n company.

“y/n”

“yes?” she squirmed under her tense stare and wondered if anything was wrong

“has he proposed to you yet?”

y/n felt like she might have a attack.

“wh-what? no” she rushed out in confusion making his mother sigh

“he should do it soon” she thought wishfully, not even caring that y/n was having a mental crisis about him potentially proposing soon

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

race day had finally come and it was obvious to everyone that guanyu was nervous. everyone brushed it off since it was the chinese grand prix, but valtteri knew better.

“mate, calm down. you look like you’re going to shit yourself

“i just might”

the ring box was hidden in his drivers room and after speaking with the organisers, they would allow him to step onto the podium to speak and propose once the winners ceremony was over. valtteri patted him on the shoulder before walking away just as y/n entered the garage to find guanyu.

“good luck” they shared a short kiss before he had to get into the car which only made his nerves sky-rocket even higher. his fingers twitched beneath his gloves and guanyu practically ran to get into the car

the race didn’t go very well for sauber as valtteri had to retire and guanyu came fourteenth, but y/n still felt proud at seeing how much love he received from the crowd despite not coming close to points. a few tears escaped, but she quickly wiped them away in case the camera panned to her ( it did and she just smiled softly ).

once guanyu came back from thanking the fans, he was swarmed by the staff, his family, and girlfriend. he sniffled and hugged them one by one before telling them that he’s going off to his drivers to calm down a little, everyone understood and allowed him. y/n wanted to follow, but was quickly thrown into a conversation with valtteri.

the winners ceremony soon came and ended, but many fans still waited around on the race track. y/n had lost guanyu who was no longer in his drivers room and went to ask valtteri who brought her to the cool down room.

“is this some weird prank?” she asked and he just chuckled before loud cheers were heard

y/n poked her head out to see her boyfriend standing in front of the first place podium, she tilted her head in confusion and turned to ask valtteri, but he had suddenly disappeared.

“so, i just want to say thank you to all the fans for coming and cheering me on. hopefully next year i’ll get a better result, but i came out here for a different reason” guanyu looked towards y/n and ushered her to come out, which she did nervously

he took her hand in his and faced the crowd.

“this is my girlfriend y/n. she always makes sure to watch my races and send me messages no matter the time difference or how busy she is. unbeknownst to me, she was actually trying to find earplugs and stuff so that my cat sweetcorn could come, her thoughtfulness and effort to make me happy gave me the push i need to do this” he let go of her hand and reached into his pocket to bring out a small ( favourite coloured box ), guanyu opened it and got on one knee which made y/n’s eyes widened and jaw drop

“y/n, i’ve loved you since the day we met and i don’t think i’ll ever stop loving you. will you marry me?” y/n burst out into tears and nodded making everyone cheer, he quickly slid the ring onto her finger and hugged his crying fiancée

“i love you” guanyu let his own tears slip out as he tightened their embrace

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starstruckkittensweets · 8 months ago

Text

puppy love (iii)

Chuuya Nakahara x Reader

fandom: bungo stray dogs

I didn't mean for this to be so long. I'm so sorry. I just really like writing about Chuuya interacting with dogs. Again I apologize (but I hope you enjoy)! (And the panel comes from the manga Kimi ni Todoke!)

warnings: fem reader, pet names (doll, lady, etc.), mentions of pet abandonment in the past, mentions of stray dogs, slight angst towards the end, a bit of mutual pining (but they don't know it yet bc they're kinda dumb) || words: 5.5k

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

Chuuya has never known himself to be nervous.

Wary? Sure. Itching to get something over with? Absolutely. Pissed off beyond all belief? Of fucking course—he’s put up with Dazai for all these years, hasn’t he?

But he’s never felt quite like this. Standing in front of the shabby little shop you call home, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, fingers twitching in his pockets—not to mention the swarm of butterflies that’s taken refuge in the depths of his stomach. His throat is unnaturally dry, beads of sweat gathering at his forehead.

Why the fuck is he so damn nervous?

He has no reason to be. He knows no danger lies beyond that door, none whatsoever. And even if there was a fight waiting for him, he’d come out on top in two seconds flat.

Nothing to worry about. It’s just you and those dogs you keep yammering on about.

(Maybe that’s why he’s so worried.)

He shakes his head and knocks on the door. You’ve already turned the lights down, placed the closed sign right there in the window, and yet he can hear you scurrying on the other side of the door. A few seconds later it swings open, and the sight of your smile immediately puts him at ease.

“I’m so glad you could make it!”

He steps inside as you shut the door behind him. One of the lights flicker on, bathing the room in a warm golden glow.

This is the first time he’s actually seen your shop, and he’s pleased to find it looks much more comfy than the outside. A bit small in size, but the selection of pet supplies is plenty enough to brag about. Different brands of dog and cat food, assortments of leashes and collars in all kinds of colors, rows of dog toys and treats lining the counters. The floors are clean, the blinds are shut, and everything seems to be in order.

But not a single pup in sight.

“You want anything to drink?” You’re already motioning him to follow you behind the counter, towards the back of the store. “It’s alright, I’m the only one here. I won’t tell anyone,” you add with a wink.

Fuck, more annoying butterflies.

“That’s fine, I’m alright.” He sheds his overcoat and hangs it on one of the hooks by the door, but leaves the hat perched on his head. Luckily you don’t question it.

“They’re in the back, follow me.”

There’s a spring in your step as you lead him through the back hall, through a set of double doors and into what looks like a lounge of some kind. A slightly-worn couch rests by the corner, as well as a table with only a couple chairs to keep it company. But he doesn’t have time to survey the whole room before you disappear through another door, and he picks up the pace just to keep up with you.

Finally you come to a stop, resting a hand on the doorknob and throwing him a smile over your shoulder.

“They’re inside. You ready?”

He swallows the collection of cobwebs in his mouth. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

But you don’t open the door. Don’t even move an inch. You just stare at him with those big eyes, those pretty eyes, as your lips shift into a frown.

“…What?” Did he do something wrong? Did he fuck this up already?

“You don’t have to be nervous, you know.”

“I’m not nervous,” he says a little too quickly, and he bites back a groan when you give him a knowing smile.

“It’s alright, they can be a lot to handle sometimes. But they’ll love you, I promise! Besides, you’ve met three of them already. The other five are gonna be all over you when they see you!”

Two, he corrects you internally. He’s met two of them so far, the third one keeps his distance and fucking glares at him. Hardly a win in his book. Are any of the others like that? Or is it just that one who’s got a stick up his ass?

No, don’t be like that. It’s not the dog’s fault it doesn’t like people; hell, Chuuya himself doesn’t even like people all that much. The nerves are just making him feel on edge.

Fuck it, he’s not nervous!

“They won’t bite,” you add with a laugh, but he still remains locked in his spot behind you. So you hold out a hand and tilt your head, reminding him of the night he first met you. So much like that one dog you have, the shiba pup. “They love meeting new people. And if Kotaro already loves you”—oh yeah, that’s the shiba’s name—“then the others are sure to follow his lead.”

The way you’re looking at him, a gentle look in your eyes, hand outstretched hopefully in his direction…

It’s no big deal. It’s just a bunch of dogs. He loves dogs, right? Never met a dog he didn’t like! They just happen to belong to you, and you’ve…just got a lot of them. Nothing too major, he’s dealt with much worse in his life.

But that’s just it. They’re your dogs, not just stray animals he crosses paths with on the street. They mean the absolute world to you, he knows it in the way you talk about them. You show it in the way you clutch Kotaro to your chest, pressing kiss after kiss to his furry head. The way your eyes light up at even the slightest mention of one of your dogs, how you’re so eager to brag about the new trick they learned or what they did at the park earlier that day.

You love them with everything your heart has to offer…and Chuuya just hopes he’s good enough to give them the attention and adoration they deserve.

A heavy sigh passes through his lips; slowly but surely, he places his gloved hand in yours. “No biting?” he asks with a smile.

“No biting, I promise! Told them to be on their best behavior today, too.”

It’s only when he nods that you turn the knob and push the door open. You all but pull him in after you, all smiles and laughter and—

Holy shit, that’s a lot of fucking dogs!

All different breeds rush him at once, Kotaro taking the lead and nearly barreling right into Chuuya’s knee. The beagle follows soon after, accompanied by a corgi. (At least he thinks it’s a corgi.) Two little Chihuahuas are yipping and running circles around his ankles. A dachshund paws at the tip of his shoe before latching her teeth around it.

“Hey, hey, come on! Be nice!”

You clap your hands and wave your arms to shoo them away. Just like clockwork the dogs turn their attention on you, a blur of wagging tails and drool and perked-up ears. You scoop up the pair of Chihuahuas, holding one in each arm, and gently nudge the dachshund away from Chuuya with your leg.

Over your shoulder he can see the last two dogs: the grumpy bulldog he met a few days ago (the one who looks like he hates his guts), and a schnauzer whose tail hasn’t stopped wagging since he walked in the room. There’s a slight limp in the schnauzer’s step; it’s favoring its front left paw, but he can’t see any visible wound on the skin. Placing the twin Chihuahuas down, you give the schnauzer a scratch under its bearded chin before pressing a kiss to its head.

“Sit!”

About half the dogs listen, Kotaro not being one of them. He’s still busy sniffing the area around Chuuya, rubbing against his leg like a cat. You snap your fingers over and over, huffing when the dog blatantly ignores you. Finally you stand up and scoop him up in your arms, placing him down in between the dachshund and the beagle.

“You alright?” Your smile is a bit wobbly. Are you just as nervous as he is?

For some reason the thought quells the storm of butterflies fluttering in his stomach.

“I’m fine, doll. Nothin’ I can’t handle,” he adds with a smirk, and you quickly avert your eyes back down to the dogs.

You sink down to sit on the floor, patting the space beside you. Unfortunately Kotaro takes that as his cue to move—even before Chuuya can settle himself down, he’s wrestling a rowdy shiba pup off his lap.

But when one dog goes, the rest of the pack is sure to follow. And suddenly the two of you are swamped in furry bodies and swishing tails and scrabbling paws. One puppy on your lap, another in your arms, and one nosing at your pocket in hopes of finding a snack or two.

“This one’s Sora,” you say, holding the corgi up to him. Chuuya can’t even speak, too captivated by the pup’s sweet brown eyes. “He’s a cutie, isn’t he? And he’s—oh, hey! I would never forget about you, Ocha, don’t worry!” You reach over to pat the dachshund right between her ears. “This little girl is Ocha. She can get a bit jealous but she’s an absolute sweetheart! Oh! And these two are Yuki and Yui! They’re…the troublemakers of the pack!”

Are those the Chihuahuas? One of them is chomping on your shoelaces, while the other one is pawing at his pant leg. The corgi in his arms lets out a soft whine; immediately he brings it closer, letting it sniff his hand and lick his face.

“This is Haru,” you continue, motioning to the schnauzer. “She’s the newest one here. She’s not scared of humans though, so you can pet her all you like! Just let her approach you first. Oh, and be mindful of her paw, she’s recovering from a broken leg. Poor thing could barely walk when we found her! But she’s healing up so nicely…aren’t you, pretty girl?”

The dog lets out a whine, but it almost sounds happy. Her ears are pressed against her head and her stubby tail’s wagging a mile a minute.

Reaching around the corgi’s head—is it Sora? Sounds about right—he holds out a hand to the schnauzer. The dog, Haru, gives a cautious sniff, balances herself on her good paw, and takes another step closer. You’re practically bouncing in your seat as Haru wags her tail and lets Chuuya pet her.

“Aww, she likes you!”

And thank fuck for that; there’s nothing more depressing than a dog that doesn’t like you.

Like that one—he gives the bulldog a sideways glance, and the dog huffs and turns his head.

The beagle nearly trips over his own paws trying to reach Chuuya’s face. The tiny Chihuahua chewing on your shoelaces manages to untie them, and you scramble to grab the string from its mouth with a shriek.

Kotaro, Pochi, Sora… Haru, right?

Something nudges his elbow. It’s the little dachshund, staring up at him with big brown eyes, clutching a small stuffed toy in her mouth. She nudges him again, giving a whine and shaking her whole backside in the air.

“What is it, huh?” Fuck, what’s that one’s name again? “You wanna play, is that it?”

The dog yips and bats him with her paw. But when he grabs at the toy, she gives a hard tug and nearly rips the damn thing right out of his grasp.

“I can’t throw it if you don’t give it to me!”

She doesn’t give up, and neither does he. You laugh at the awkward tug of war between the two, all the while Sora is curled up in Chuuya’s other arm. One of the Chihuahuas crawls into his lap, throwing off his balance just enough for the dachshund to wrench the toy out of his hand.

“Hey, wait—”

It’s a three-way assault: Kotaro plants his paws right on his shoulders, Sora leans up to lick his face, and the dachshund—Ocha, that’s it!—practically throws herself right into his lap, all but knocking the poor Chihuahua out of the way. The poor pup tumbles to the floor, but you’re quick to scoop him up before he can whine.

“Sorry, Yuki,” you manage through your laughter, “Ocha didn’t mean it, I promise. …And sorry, Chuuya! Usually they’re not this rowdy!”

But he finds himself laughing along with you—of course, you apologize to the dog first—even when Kotaro’s weight knocks him over onto the floor. He’s on his back know, knees bent with the beagle ducking beneath them, and the tiny corgi curled up on his chest. Kotaro’s wet nose is pressed against his cheek, Ocha’s paw nudging his shoulder, and oh shit, now the schnauzer’s in on the fun—

“Come on, guys, let him breathe for a bit!” Your voice reaches him through the mess of fur and paws; he sees your hand snake around the dachshund’s body to pull her away. “No doggy pile today!”

Not that he has a problem with that. If this is what you have to deal with every day, living with all these dogs doesn’t seem like such a bad thing.

“Get over here, you little—”

He rolls over, propping himself on his hands and knees, still supporting the corgi against his chest. Kotaro barks and shakes his bottom in the air; the silly look on his face just screams “play with me, damn it!”

Pochi plants his paws onto his shoulders, while Ocha ambushes him from the front. Despite favoring her paw, Haru is quick to chime in with a yip and plants a sweet kiss right on Chuuya’s cheek.

The smug look on Kotaro’s face says it all: You’re surrounded. Give up already, feeble human!

“Alright, alright, that’s enough!”

You’re on your feet now, shooing the dogs away, cringing at the rumpled fabric of Chuuya’s pristine jacket and vest. The flecks of dog hair sprinkled along his dress pants. Not to mention the trails of drool and doggy slobber on his face—

“Come on, be nice.” You slide Pochi out of the way and gently pick up Haru in your arms. Chuuya catches the bulldog glaring at him from across the room; the little shit hasn’t even moved in the last ten minutes or so. “Give him some space, Kotaro!”

Chuuya manages to lift himself to his knees. The little corgi in his arms lifts his head and kisses his chin, his stubby little tail thumping against his hand. A laugh bubbles up in his throat.

“Lovable little shit, ain’t he?”

“Yeah, Sora’s a cuddle bug when he wants to be!” Once the dogs give you some space, you hold out a hand to help him up. “He’s also a sleepy little guy. Gets random bursts of energy but he’s always the first to fall asleep.”

His gloved hand slides against your own, and you pull him to his feet with a grunt. Immediately Haru and Ocha start whining and pawing at his pant leg. Batting their eyes at Sora, all snuggled up against the man’s chest.

“Are they usually just clingy, or is it just me?” he asks with a smile, and you giggle behind your hands.

“Must be you! They’re friendly, but never that friendly to people they’ve just met… They must really like you a lot.”

(Maybe it’s his roguish charm and handsome features. If so, you can’t really blame them.)

“Anyway, looks like they’ve settled down a bit.” He glances at the two pups nestled in your arms; the twin Chihuahuas are already fast asleep, snoring softly with their heads against your chest. “Come on, I’ll show you the rest of the shop.”

The “rest of the shop” isn’t really part of the shop at all; Chuuya learns quickly that it’s just the half-finished room where the dogs live, with the stairs leading up to your apartment just off to the side. He stops himself before he can wonder what’s up there, though.

Not the kind of thoughts he should be having about someone he’s only just yet. And about a lady, no less.

And now the dogs are safe and sound, sprawled out in their individual beds and tucked away for the night. The Chihuahuas sleep in a tiny bed between a mess of blankets, with a dozing Pochi and Ocha on either side of them. Sora is curled up into Haru’s side; when his paw twitches gently, Chuuya thinks he can feel his chest get all warm and fuzzy.

So fucking adorable, aren’t they?

The only ones still awake are Kotaro (who’s made his home at his feet, for some unknown reason), and Shiro, who’s planted his ass firmly on your shoes. Still glaring at him with his bottom teeth jutting out, only wagging his tail when you reach down to pet him.

The two of you are leaning against the counter, side by side, holding a pair of mugs in your hands. Might be too late in the night for it, but holy shit do you make a great cup of coffee.

“I’m glad you think so,” you chuckle, careful to keep your voice low. Don’t wanna wake the babies, right? “I don’t really like it, I kinda have to drink it for these little guys, though. Keeps me going the entire day!”

He looks at you then, really looks at you as you take another sip of your drink. Your frazzled hair, the bags under your eyes, the slight heave in your chest—and the familiar warm glow in your eyes as they sweep over the eight resting dogs.

Running a shop, catering to customers, taking care of eight individual dogs, all with different personalities and needs of their own… No wonder you look so drained. You look like you could sleep for a week straight, and then some with that look in your eye.

He clears his throat and averts his gaze before you can catch him. “You said she’s the newest one, right?” He motions to Haru with a hand, snickering as she snuggles deeper into her little makeshift bed. “How long have you had her?”

“Only a couple weeks.” You place your mug down and sweep a hand through your hair. “We found her wandering around the streets one night—well, Kotaro found her, really. Poor girl was digging through the trash and limping so badly! We took her to the vet right away, fixed up her leg so she could walk again. She had a collar but when we tried calling the owners there was no answer.”

Your hands suddenly curl around the edge of the counter. Nails biting into the surface, teeth clenched and eyes wild with fire. Chuuya stops himself from reaching out to you, instead tightening his grip on his mug and taking another sip.

“They wouldn’t answer our calls, and when the vet stopped by their place he realized they’d moved… Didn’t even have the sense to bring her to a shelter first. Just up and left her, like she didn’t even matter.”

Such a sweet dog, so kind and gentle, with her favored paw resting so nicely on the blankets… Little puffs of air escaping through her nose, brushing against the corgi’s fluffy head.

And suddenly he wants to shatter the mug in his hand. The thought of leaving a mess on your floor is enough to keep him at bay, but the white-hot fury is still blazing through his veins.

How could someone treat such an innocent animal like that?

He wouldn’t have guessed it, with how friendly she had been with him earlier. Eager to play and get to know him, licking at his face and wagging her cute little tail. And extremely loyal from what he’s seen so far, with the way she looks at you and responds to your voice. What kind of dumbass would let go of such a perfect companion?

“…Are they all street dogs?” His voice is strained, but his eyes are gentle when they meet your own. “Abandoned, I mean?”

“No, not all of them. This one,” you lean down to rub Shiro’s chest, “I knew his old owner. He was moving away and he couldn’t take Shiro with him. He used to work at the shop, that’s why he asked me. Sometimes I think he still misses him.”

That explains why the dog’s such a hard-ass. But he can’t find it in himself to blame him. Chuuya knows a thing or two about losing people he cares about.

“Pochi and Sora were hanging around the shop before I took them in. At first I thought they were cats, but then I heard barking one night and knew I had to bring them in.” That familiar smile is back on your face as you gush about your puppies. “Ocha? I found her while coming home from a friend’s house, in a thunderstorm of all things! Now she doesn’t like storms, but show me a dog that does!”

You slide your mug further away before lifting yourself onto the edge. Only when you pat the space beside you does Chuuya do the same, careful not to spill what little coffee he has left in his own mug.

“The twins, Yuki and Yui,” you point to the tiny Chihuahuas in the center, “…I don’t know where they came from, honestly. I just opened the door one day and they were there. Right on the doorstep, practically newborn, no note or anything. I don’t even know what happened to their mother.”

Shiro yawns and settles down at the base of the counter, his legs sprawled out in front of him. Meanwhile Kotaro turns his attention to Chuuya, whining until the man caves in and scratches behind his ear.

“What about this one?”

“Oh, Kotaro? Former shelter dog, the last one to be adopted before they closed down! No one else wanted to deal with his little troublesome ass, so I volunteered.”

And the smug little shit looks so proud of himself, too. Tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, tail swishing from side to side, stirring up the mess of dog hair already on the floor.

A comfortable silence settles over the two of you. The dogs are sleeping, Kotaro’s relishing in all the extra attention, and for once, the bulldog Shiro isn’t even growling at him. Eventually he finishes off his coffee, and you’re quick to take it to rinse it in the sink with your own.

“Hey, Chuuya? Can I ask you something real quick?”

He glances up from Kotaro for a split second. It’s easier to pet him from the ground rather than the counter, so he hops off and kneels down to the dog’s level. His gloves are gonna be covered in dog fur once he’s done.

“What is it?”

Another bout of silence. Your back is turned to him, still hunched over the sink, despite the mugs already drying in the rack next to it. Kotaro paws at his knee, silently begging for another round of pats.

“…You’re part of the Port Mafia, aren’t you?”

Every nerve in his body screams at him to run. No, to fight. Fight and fucking win, just as he’s always had to do. Eliminate the threat. Prove your strength.

It’s like a switch goes off in his brain. But he’s not the only one; Shiro’s head lifts off the ground at lightning speed, his lip curled to show more than just that row of bottom teeth. Kotaro stiffens as soon as Chuuya’s hand retreats, his huge eyes boring right through him.

You’re still glued to your spot at the sink, not even daring to move an inch.

The message is clear from the dogs. Touch her and you die.

He swallows the mess of cobwebs in his throat as he slowly rises to his feet. Kotaro and Shiro keep their eyes trained on him; out of the corner of his eye, he can see Pochi and Ocha stirring awake, too.

Insanely loyal dogs, aren’t they?

“…It’s alright if you are,” you spit out, still staring at the sink in front of you. “I promise I won’t tell anyone! It’s just… I’ve, ah, been wondering about it…for a few days now, and I just thought…”

The sigh he lets out sends a shiver down your spine. He’s careful as he makes his way towards you, and for some reason, Shiro lets him without taking a chunk out of his leg.

“…How’d you find out?”

He’s trying not to sound intimidating. He’s not angry, far from it actually. He knows you and your little pack of pups is no real threat to the mafia. (Although, the image of you storming HQ with a band of street dogs is strangely entertaining to him.) Sooner or later, you would have questions of your own about him. He just didn’t think it would be this soon.

But that horrible feeling from earlier is fluttering around in his chest. The same one that makes his palms slick with sweat inside his gloves, the one that sends his heart smashing against his ribcage.

Is he ashamed? Absolutely not; the mafia has always been a part of him, and it always will be until the day he dies.

Maybe the thought of you running away, too scared of what he is—and taking your little pack with you—is sending him in such a frenzy.

“I’ve…had my suspicions,” you start quietly. Slowly you turn around, keeping your back against the sink. Chuuya stands a few feet away from you, forcing his hands back into his pockets. “For a couple days, now. Maybe even more… I just wanted to be sure before I started suspecting anything…”

Dangerous? He fills in the blank with a swallow.

“…’M not gonna hurt you, ya know.”

“I know! I know… Believe it or not, I’ve had my fair share of run-ins with the mafia. This isn’t exactly a nice area of Yokohama to begin with.”

That raises the hair on the back of his neck. Who did you come across? Surely someone like Akutagawa or Tachihara couldn’t be bothered with a simple pet shop owner. A simple grunt then, perhaps? He can’t imagine why they would make themselves known to an innocent civilian like you.

Did they threaten you? Were you caught in the crossfire? Thrown in the middle of a turf war? Every possibility sends another wave of heat throughout his body.

“Honestly, it wasn’t that hard to figure out.” There’s an awkward chuckle on your end. “I only ever see you at night. You’re rich as hell, I can tell by the way you carry yourself. Only one kind of job around here could get you that kind of outfit, and all those fancy wines you like to talk about. Oh, and you kinda dress like a stereotypical mafioso, too… Not that it’s a bad thing!” you add quickly, holding up your hands. “I like it! Makes you look…good, I guess? No, not just good… Maybe handsome? Ah, I-I mean—”

You stumble over your words, burying your face in your hands when none of them come out right. That’s when Kotaro trots over to you, circling your feet before taking a seat right in front of you. Shiro stays right in his spot, eyes glued on Chuuya…but at least he’s not growling at him anymore.

Chuuya blinks. And then blinks again.

…You think he’s handsome?

He clears his throat—no time to get all distracted over a few simple words from a pretty girl. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, doll. I promise, the Port Mafia wants nothing to do with your little…pack of dogs.”

But he does.

As horrible as it sounds, he wants everything to do with you and your little family of puppies.

“It’s okay.” You wrap your arms around your midsection, finally meeting his eyes with a shaky smile. “It’s just…kind of a lot to take in… Sorry…”

No, he gets it. He could barely believe it himself, after joining the mafia years ago.

“…You ain’t scared?” he asks, despite his gut telling him to shut the fuck up already.

But you shake your head, and suddenly he finds himself frowning.

“A bit too trusting, don’t ya think?”

“Maybe.” Your smile becomes a bit stronger now. “But the dogs seem to like you, so that’s enough for me.”

His jaw nearly drops to the floor; he can feel the coffee from earlier swirling around in his stomach.

Are you fucking serious?

“I know it sounds silly, but it’s true!” You must’ve seen the look on his face; you’re starting to look a bit sheepish yourself, but you continue nonetheless. “Dogs have a great sense for this kind of thing. They can tell when a person has good or bad intentions. Pick the rotten apples from the rest of the bunch, you know? And they’re all pretty easy-going around you. So if they’re not scared of you, then I’m not either.”

Well sure, it would make sense if you were a fucking child. But placing all your trust in a bunch of dogs, no matter how loyal and protective it may be… It doesn’t sit right with him.

“You can’t be serious.”

“But I am.”

“What if I hurt you?” Even saying the words out loud make him feel sick. “You really think they would’ve warned you?”

“Yeah, they started growling at you right away, didn’t they?”

“What if it was someone else? Someone other than me?”

“I trust them. I protect them, they protect me.”

“You can’t always be sure of that, doll.”

He’s stepping closer to you, and for whatever reason Kotaro and Shiro allow him to. Until he’s face to face with you, so close you can count the row of freckles splashed across his nose.

But you’re still smiling. In fact, you look more comfortable right now in front of him than you have all night. Almost like you’ve totally forgotten about the whole Port Mafia thing.

“It all comes down to intentions. Believe it or not, they’ve saved my ass a few times before. Especially Shiro; more than once he’s kept a shady person away from me, or pulled me away from a dangerous situation. It sounds weird, but I trust them with my life. Just as they trust me with theirs.”

Words fail him in that moment; he opens his mouth, and they die right there on his tongue. On one hand, what you’re saying does make sense, but it also doesn’t, and he’s not sure which one to believe.

He knew you were close to your dogs. Treated them just as you would your own children. He just didn’t realize you put such a great amount of trust in their hands—well, paws.

Despite their smaller size and friendly natures, they did jump to your defense when they suspected you might be in danger. Shiro and Kotaro standing between you two, a protective barrier of claws and teeth, with Ocha and Pochi standing on guard.

A dog’s love for his human knows no bounds.

“Trust me, if they sensed you had any bad intentions, or wanted to hurt me in any way, they wouldn’t have let you come into the shop like you did. Kotaro wouldn’t have warmed up to you right away. Believe me when I say this, Chuuya, the pups love you.”

He grits his teeth, his gaze falling to the floor between you. “…Not the bulldog.”

Your laugh is a song to his ears, and when you reach for his gloved hand, he thinks his heart might burst right there in his chest.

“Don’t worry about Shiro. He’s stingy with everyone at first! To be honest, if he really didn’t like you, he would’ve tried to bite you the first time he saw you! But as for the rest of them? I’ve never seen them warm up to a stranger like that before. Especially Kotaro—the way he acted around you that first night… It kinda made me jealous!”

You shake your head and take his other hand in yours. His face grows warm beneath your gaze, his heartbeat echoing in his ears as you inch your face closer to his.

“If my dogs trust you, then that tells me you must be a good man.”

And suddenly, Chuuya wants nothing more than to sweep you into his arms and press a thousand kisses to your lips.

“Your secret’s safe with me. If you want to come back, you’re more than welcome to! And if you want, we can just keep it between us. No outside drama, no mentions of work—just you and me and all these dogs…if that sounds good with you.”

Chuuya doesn’t think he can smile any wider. There’s another strange feeling in his chest, so much more pleasant than the one from earlier. No more shaking hands or butterflies in his stomach; only a sweet, warm feeling that pools deep in his chest.

It reminds him of your smile, of your warmth and affection for the little family you’ve made for yourself, as he tugs you in closer with Kotaro yipping happily at your heels.

“Sounds perfect to me, doll.”

#chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x you #chuuya x y/n #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd x reader #bsd fics #puppy love

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acaaai-t · 7 months ago

Text

3 months and counting

[modern au! scaramouche x gn! reader]

cw: angst, hurt/no comfort, major character death, hints at suicide, probably unhealthy coping methods idk

The taste of bitter coffee and overly sweetened scent of dandelion tea lingered, lingered for a little longer than he liked.

Wilted flowers lay by a small vase of fresh ones. The pile of dead flowers seemed to grow bigger with each passing day.

The house was dim, with the only source of light being a weakly lit candle surrounded by empty dishes and untouched cutlery on the dining table. For a place that had felt so big not too long ago, it suddenly seemed to be so small.

Scaramouche hummed quietly to himself as he gently dusted at the debris that clung onto the picture frames. His touch was delicate as his fingers brush against the cold glass. The tune he has been singing echoed off the walls, traveling down the silent hallway.

How long has it been? He wonders.

Three days? A week? Two weeks? Scaramouche had long lost count.

Once he was sure that the picture frame was clean, he stepped back and admired his handiwork. In this empty house, the only thing that stood out most was the wall of what Scaramouche called ‘memories’. Golden frames surrounded photos of all kind, taken by you and hung by him.

He misses you.

On most days, Scaramouche would stay huddle in what once was a shared bedroom, buried deep beneath the blankets, scrolling through past messages. Dark circles heavily marked his under eyes, a stark contrast to his porcelain pale skin.

For the first month, he was a utter mess. Unable to process the tragic news of your sudden death.

It had just felt like yesterday, when the two of you were just out on a date, laughing and giggling.

The world was mocking him, taunting and laughing, watching the hallow shell of the man he once was as he stood there alone in the cemetery. Flowers previously placed by your grave was removed and tossed away, replaced by a fresh bouquet of your favorite flowers.

The night you were buried under the willow tree, was the only night he had ever worked up the courage to sit by your grave, and wallow in the despair.

“I miss you,” the three words etched into his mind, quietly spoken into the empty void.

What about the plans you’ve made with him? The promises of a happy ending, a beautiful future.

Gone… all gone, far too soon.

“Will we get a cat too?” your voice was eager, full of hope.

Scaramouche smiled and pressed a small kiss to your temple. “Whatever you want.”

You giggled. “Let’s get a black cat then. I can see the resemblance between you and them.”

“Hey,” he whined.

You beamed up at him. “I love you.”

How he wished time could’ve stopped right there and then, allowing that precious moment to last for an eternity.

“I love you too.”

God, it was so fucking unfair. Why did you have to be the one to die?

It could’ve been anyone else, but you just had to be there at the wrong time.

He slumped down on the empty couch, cushions and throw blankets sitting in the same spot as before. Scaramouche didn’t dare touch anything. He was scared— terrified that if he even so as much move anything a centimeter away, he’ll lose the remaining parts of you that he had so desperately been trying to cling onto.

Scaramouche had already lost you once, he couldn’t lose you for a second time.

The soft golden glow of the ceiling lights flickered in and out for a brief moment, a sign that the electrical bill was long overdue. It was fortunate enough that the landlord took pity upon him and gave Scaramouche an extension to pay his bills.

3 months.

It’s been three whole months since the accident. Three months since he’s shut himself off from the outside world. Three months he spend crying and grieving, fantasizing scenarios of you and him. He knows it’ll never come true, but he can only hope.

Head barely above water, the bits of hope he has is all that’s supporting his weight, preventing him from drowning. Yet as the clock moves, he finds himself sinking lower and lower.

Two hollow knocks to his door startled him out of his trancelike state. “Who,” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

When the answer was delivered with another two knocks, he spoke louder. “What.”

“Scaramouche,” the muffled voice of Childe floated through the thick wood. “Open the door.”

He scowled, body already moving before his mind had even processed Childe’s words. The door cracked open with a soft creak, a silver of the sunlight spilling into the dark house. Scaramouche squeezed his eyes closed, momentarily blinded by the light. It’s been so long since he’s seen the sun.

Childe’s shadow stepped in and blocked out the light. He gave Scaramouche a tired smile. “Archons you look like shit.”

Scaramouche said nothing and kept his silent gaze on him.

The ginger sighed. “I was hoping you’d come visit… them, with us.”

There were no names mentioned, yet Scaramouche almost instantly knew who Childe was referring to. He felt his body tense up.

“Look, I’m not trying to force you or anything, but we all miss them, and you too, ‘mouche… you haven’t talked with any of us in three month now.”

Guilt gnawed at his heart, eating away yet another piece.

He hadn’t meant to neglect his friends. None of the things he was doing was intentional.

“… I’m sorry,” he whispered, lowering his gaze, unable to keep eye contact with Childe. He fear that if he continued, tears would begin to formulate, and there’d be nothing to stop them from flowing.

“Mind if I come in?” Childe’s voice softened.

Scaramouche felt tears prickling at his eyes. Childe placed one hand on his shoulder, gently giving a pat— and that was what finally broke him. The water droplets fell uncontrollably, rolling down his cheeks. A pitiful sight to behold.

Childe pulled him into a hug and remained quiet. There wasn’t much he could say to comfort Scaramouche’s pain. Everyone was still grieving, him included.

His quiet sniffles slowly died down. Just this one time, he thought to himself, wiping away at a tear. It’s the least he can do.

“Let me get my things,” Scaramouche’s voice was hoarse. A pain-like expression was scrawled across his features as he pulled away from Childe and step back into the shadows of his home.

There wasn’t much he needed to do to get ready. He’d given up on life the moment he was given the news that you didn’t make it. Why he had been fighting for so long, he didn’t understand.

He threw on a simple black cardigan, it was a handmade gift from you to him. In your words, it took you a week and a half to make it— “i hope you’ll like it,” you said sheepishly.

Of course he’ll love it. Cherish it even till death.

He took in a deep breath and went to look for Childe. The medications stored in his pockets jangled against the hard plastic with each step he took.

The last strands of hope snapped, and he sunk. Bubbles floating to the surface as his darkened silhouette slowly disappeared under the void of water.

Tonight, he decided. Tonight, he’ll be able to see you again.

The lights sputtered out as Scaramouche flipped the switch. With the last bits of power it has, the lights illuminated the series of letter sprawled across the glass coffee table— each one address to someone dear to him.

Then it all went dark.

✩ ·┆ masterlist

notes—

— this was fun to write

#[💫] acaaai-t #astronetwrk #genshin impact #genshin #genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin scaramouche x reader #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche

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sweetvamp03 · 2 months ago

Text

All I Want is You

Word Count: 1795

Sam Winchester x Female Reader - No Y/N - Mostly fluff - Implied Smut - Talk of death

Summary: With all that's been going on in your and Sam's lives as hunters, you have to confess your worries to him; hoping he shares your concerns.

As you lay beneath the cream comforter, you can feel an arm coming from behind, wrapping around your bare waist. You didn't have to open your eyes to know who it was. "Mm, morning Sam" you grinned as you became aware of his toned chest pressed to your back. He leaned down to whisper in your ear, "Goodmorning beautiful", he planted a kiss on your jaw and returned to his previous position, head on your pillow rather than his own; he always seemed to make it over to your side of the bed by the morning, you didn't mind sharing though.

Every morning felt better than the last, you were excited to wake up each day and see Sam Winchester laying next to you. It didn't matter how long you two had been together, there would always be butterflies in your stomach when your sleepy eyes met his. You moved your hand up to intertwine with his, he reciprocated with a tight squeeze. Even though you were happier than you had ever been before, there was still something that constantly popped into your mind, making the butterflies turn into crows, pecking at your flesh, trying to gnaw their way out. You hadn't brought it up to Sam, it seemed a shame to ruin perfect moments, but every moment with him was perfect. Letting out a small sigh, you started, "Hey Sam-".

"What's wrong baby?" he sat up, hands still joined, and leaned over to see your face. "Nothing" You replied, not wanting to worry him. "It's just- have you ever thought about the future? I mean our future, what it will look like." you began to probe him, to see if you shared any of the same worries.

"Yeah, well I mean I think about it all the time. Do you?" he curiously asked, his brows furrowing.

"I do, I just wanted to know what you see when you think about it."

"Oh, well, hm..." he trailed off trying to think of the words. "I see us here in Kansas, in a nice house with a big backyard. A cat and maybe a dog-" You intererupted his sentance with a light chuckle. He knew you weren't really a dog person, but he had been trying to convert you. He continued, "Or no dog, just a cat" a tiny smirk emerged unto his face. "We're married and maybe have a kid or two. I work a boring mundane job in town, and our house has a huge office that you can use to write in. And theres a porch-swing out front, and every night we sit out, you wrapped in my arms, as I read to you while we drink tea."

You rolled over to face the man who had just spilled his heart out to you. Gazing in his eyes, you wanted nothing more than that life he had imagined for the both of you. But you were scared that you may never get it. He could see the sadness overcome your features. "Hey, hey, hey, what's wrong? Did I say something? We don't need a dog, or kids for that matter." he rambled.

"No, no it's not that. It's just-" you trailed off, not wanting to ruin this beautiful moment. Sam cupped your face with his large hands, giving you the puppy dog eyes that would coax anyone out of their deepest darkest secret. You began to explain, "Sometimes I just get worried. Worried that we're never gonna have that. That- that- I'm not gonna have that." He cocked his head to the side giving you a puzzled look. "I just mean- I love you baby, you know how much I love you. But the people that you love don't tend to make it out of this unscathed. I'm not afraid of dying, really I'm not. I'm afraid of leaving you."

His confused expression changed to sadness as he started to reply, "Sweetheart, I swear I will never let anything happen to you. I promise. I would die for you, you know that."

"I know Sam, but I don't want you to. I don't want either of us to die. That's the problem. I don't want to leave you but I also don't want to lose you. But with everything Chuck has done, it feels like it's inevitable. And it's selfish- I want you with me, I don't want to die and have you go fall in love with another girl. That's our house and our dog- that we can get, because I know how much you want one baby- but it's awful, I should want the best for you, right? I just want to make it through this so badly Sam, but I'm scared." you blurted out your speech that you had been holding in for months.

Sam grabbed you up into his arms and buried your face in his chest, holding the back of your head so you were as close as could be. He clung onto you like he never wanted to let go, and part of you was hoping that he wouldn't. "I'm scared too. I know I don't show it but I am. All I want is you, and I'll do whatever I have to to make it happen."

You were trying so hard to keep it together, but his words made you unravel, a few tears escaping. He pet your hair to try and calm you. He held you like that for a few minutes before you decided to pull away, wanting to read his face. He looked sad but resigned. He planted a kiss on your forehead, and as he pulled away you could see a lightbulb go off over his head. Sitting up, he reached over to his nightstand drawer, "Now, I was planning a more romantic evening to do this, but I think now is good too." he picked out a little black velvet box and turned back to face you. Sitting up, you felt like this was all a dream and maybe you had never woken up at all. "Sam- What is that?" You were not sure if you were imagining things. "Baby, I know that it's been tough and that things haven't really gone our way lately, but I know for certain that this is one thing that we can do right. So, will you do me the honour of marrying me?" he couldn't help but smile as the words escaped his mouth.

"Yes!" you yelled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, squeezing him tighter than he had been before. Holding him in the hug, you felt nothing but the good butterflies fluttering around. "Uh do you want to see the ring first?" He laughed out. Pulling back, you rolled your eyes at him, "It could be a ring pop for all I care."

Grinning ear to ear, he took the ring out of the box and placed it on your finger. You looked at it admiringly, it was beautiful, you never wanted to take it off. "It antique, from the late 1800's, it belonged to one of the first few women doctors here in America. She actually became a doctor after she was married, and her husband supported her decision and was proud of her."

"It's gorgeous, and the story is beautiful. It's perfect Sam, you're perfect." You planted a kiss on his lips before returning your gaze to the ring. It was a stunning gold band, with a perfectly cut ruby surrounded by little shiny diamonds. Sam knew you so well, he knew you didn't like most of the jewelry they make nowadays, and prefered something with a history. You couldn't believe it. You were engaged to Sam Winchester. Looking back at him, a devious look painted your face. You moved around in the bed to straddle his lap. Hands pressed to his chiseled chest, you left kisses up and down his neck. His hands were running all throughout your hair, then down your back. Your lips moved up to meet his as you joined in slow passionate movements. Fidgeting with your bra clasp, he managed to remove it quicker than usual, while your hands were making their way down to slide his boxers off.

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Laying curled up around Sam, your head tucked under his chin, you took a peek at the alarm clock on his side of the room, realizing it was nearly 11am. "Wow, I don't think I've ever seen you in bed past 9!"

Sam scoffed. "Well I didn't sleep until 11, I still woke up early, I just- got distracted." he smiled at you, and you realized you had never seen him that happy before. "How's about we make some breakfast- or I guess brunch at this point?" you suggested.

"I'll go make us something, you can stay here." he offered. But you weren't having it, "Nuh-uh, I'm coming to help." you lept out of the bed and grabbed one of Sam's t-shirts out of the dresser, throwing it on and prancing out the door.

"Wait for me" you heard him call as you left the room. He caught up to you after he was dressed, grabbing your hand as you pulled him along to the main entry room of the bunker. There you were met with Dean, Cas, and Jack, sitting around the table. Dean and Cas were reading books, while Jack was fixated on Sam's Ipad, playing some game he found yesterday. You stopped in your tracks, making Sam nearly trample you. The three men looked up from their respective activities. "Hey guys" You couldn't help but grin like an idiot. "Someone looks happy" Dean pointed out.

"We have some news to tell you guys- we're engaged!" Sam blurted out, unable to contain his excitement. You threw your hand out to show the ring as proof of the event. All three boys jumped up and ran to give you both hugs and congratulations. Dean took a step back and formed another thought, "So that's what those happy noises were about, I just thought Sammy had learned to-" You cut Dean off with a playfull push on the shoulder and an eyeroll. "Enough Dean! And just so you know, Sammy does know how to-" This time Sam was cutting you off, "Whoah, Whoah, Whoah." He pulled you tight beside him, trying not to turn red.

"Wait- what does Sam know how to do?" Jack piped up. And all four of you adults suddenly remembered his real age. You tried to change the subject, "Oh nothing, we were just about to make some brunch, any takers?".

They all agreed enthusiastically, so you and Sam started towards the kitchen. "Come on, Fiance" you linger on the word, thinking of your future together that has already started.

#sam winchester #supernatural #sam winchester x female reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fluff #one shot #dean winchester #castiel #jack kline #the bunker

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shotorozu · 2 years ago

Note

ooh, can i please request "pulling your partner onto your lap" for Izuku?? ty!!

OTHER WAY AROUND — MIDORIYA IZUKU

(send me a bnha character + a physical intimacy prompt and i’ll make something out of it!)

gender neutral reader, reader has an assertive personality, reader is STRONG but no mentions of a quirk, lower case intended 😭

note(s): hey yall 🧍‍♀️ i know im posting these slowly as i could possibly go but something real bad happened at school, so i just had to delay the uploads a little bit (but i am feeling a bit better so expect at least one post per day this week because of valentines day 😭)

»»————-　♡　————-««

midoriya izuku if not rarely— never pouts.

he recognizes pouting as a part of sulking— which is a normal thing. (in fact, he does it a lot)

as much as no one really says it out loud, everyone has done it at least once in their life. a kid pouting because they couldn’t get their parents to buy them that toy they really wanted, a teenager that’s feeling particularly moody that hour, or an adult thats plans just didn’t work out.

he feels lots of things, especially after all he’s been through. at this point, what hasn’t he felt? positive, negative (sulking included) and the neutral. of course he has— it’s all a part of the process, but for some reason, he feels the need to suppress the negative a little (an understatement) more than regular.

midoriya izuku if not rarely— never pouts.

but he’s doing exactly that, and you know it. he’s sulking, pouting over something that doesn’t look worthy enough to be pouting over for the green haired teenager personally. and he knows that you know— so, he just hopes that means he doesn’t have to say it out loud. he isn’t sure if it’s something you’d usually ask or tell someone.

but he knows you— your unofficial ability to pull out any thought out of his mind, so he knows he’ll give in and end up fessing up what’s on his mind. he just knows.

you step in front of him, and he’s pulled out of his trance when you tap his chin and tilt his head upwards.

“why the long face? hmm…” you question, humming thoughtfully to yourself afterwards. if izuku’s pouting— then that’s when you know that something’s really, really wrong.

he cracks an imbalanced smile, “does it bother you?”

“not really,” you bring your unoccupied hand to cup his cheek, “it’s just that my boyfriend’s pouting, y’know? so how could i not ask?”

he brings his hand up to rest against the hand cupping his cheek, “it’s almost as if you see right through me.” he intones, sounding less shocked and more— interested and genuine.

“i mean, you’re not exactly slick.” you bluntly remark, “an open book.”

he goes red at that— “i figured,” and he starts to wonder how many times he’s been obvious on something he was trying to conceal. oh the embarrassment is starting to flood through him—

“so go on, shoot.” but it goes out the window when you start scratching under his chin like he was a cat. a shiver urges to run through him.

but the less embarrassed he becomes, the more insecure he grows. the main reason why he was pouting in the first place starts to come back to him.

“so,” he begins, clearing his throat with a cough, “promise you won’t think it’s weird?”

“i promise,” to him, your eyes look like they twinkled with sincerity. “although, you’ve really gotten me curious. is it actually weird or are you just being subjective?”

an open book, he thinks to himself. you’re so right about him. it’s like you know him like the back of your hand.

“it could be both? depends.. maybe.. actually..? ” he mumbles, genuinely considering which reason was it. you blink— and you become dead silent, as a way to allow him to respond.

he understands, “okay so,” he squeezes your hand cupping his face, “why don’t you want to sit on my lap?”

you don’t respond, like you’re expecting more out of his question. but to find the green haired hero in training not say anything else, and blink back in similar fashion— translated into ‘oh, that was really it’ for you.

“..is there more you wanna say?” you speak after a few seconds of nobody saying anything pass by, “i find it hard to believe that there’s no context to this apparently weird question. because honestly, this isn’t strange. i’m wounded by your dishonesty.”

izuku lets out a chuckle, which was genuine, but ended up sounding nervous. he begins to fiddle with his hands,

“there is context,” he gulps, taking his gaze off of you— being unable to take the extensive amount of eye contact. “it’s just that, i’ve carried a lot of people, so far. because of heroics, y’know? and most of them also sat in my lap— although unintentional. i’ve asked you before, but whenever i do it’s like.. you don’t say no, but you act as if nothing happened?”

you hum, allowing him to carry on— and you continue to scratch under his chin while listening.

“and if you don’t want to, that’s totally fine! but if it’s because you’re worried about crushing me or what not, then i don’t think it’s a concern—”

“izuku,” you cut in, halting all movements to take your hands off of him. he misses the contact already, “don’t you think it’s because i want it to be the other way around?”

he gulps rather loudly.

“what does.. that mean?” he questions, feeling his face already starting to warm up rapidly.

laughing, you poke his cheek. “although i don’t mind your idea, i prefer the idea of you planted on my lap instead.”

he lets out a squeak, and your laughter rings in his ears again.

“oh!” he exclaims, he only wished your laughter would’ve provided physical comfort like how it usually does— but it only managed to make him flush red more. “i.. i see!”

“yep.” your lips make the ‘p’ pop with emphasis.

“that.. makes sense. i never thought of it that way!”

you give izuku a smile, patting your thighs with both hands as a signal. he knows what you’re trying to tell him— he’s done it as a signal to you before. for him, it was done so casually.

yet for some reason, with your assertiveness, it was anything but.

“you want me to…?”

you pat your lap again, “it’s right here.”

“okay, okay. alright,” your freckled boyfriend breathes in deeply. suddenly, he found himself standing up and putting his jittering hands on your shoulders lightly— heart making several steep drops in his chest.

and then, you’re lowering him on your lap, and he lets out yet another squeak as you maneuver him on your lap, sitting him on one leg and spreading his legs across yours in seconds.

you pat his thigh, just to feel what it’s like to have his legs on top of yours, and you shift your hand to rest it against the small of his back.

he wonders if his heart could hammer against his chest any harder. he could hear it in his ears, and he was acutely aware of it.

despite it, he’s clinging to you like he belongs (he does) and he wraps an arm around your shoulder. “i’m sorry if i’m—”

“shh, shh.” you hush him, bringing the hand that’s not resting against his back up to stroke the back of his head— petting his hair and threading through the green, voluminous locks with your fingers.

“hypocrite.” you whisper, but you don’t exactly mean anything malice of it. “telling me not to worry about me being heavy on you, but here you are, worrying about being heavy on me.”

“my bad—”

“no,” you’re almost amazed by the way he could find new ways to apologize, “just, enjoy this, will you? isn’t this nice? this is what it must feel for those people to be sitting on your lap. it’s comfy, right?”

you’re assertive, but izuku could also sense the tiniest speck of nervousness in your voice. he knows you just like how you know him— you’re minding the way you’re coming off right now, and his reaction to all of this, like you’re worried he wouldn’t like it

which is out of the ballpark, because—

“yeah, you’re right.” he whispers, “this is comfy.”

this might start to become his next favorite past time.

»»————-　♡　————-««

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jungle-angel · 10 months ago

Text

Dude, Where's My Underwear? (Frat!Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: Rhett has a royal freak out after a Friday night rager at the frat house and literally no one can remember what happened

Warnings: Frat life, waking up with an unholy hangover, reader missing her underwear, implied orgies etc.

Tagging: @floydsmuse @attapullman @sebsxphia @bradleybeachbabe

Notes: RIP Toby Keith, without "Red Solo Cup" I never would've gotten the idea for this fic (lol).

Rhett slowly blinked his eyes open, his vision blurred even as he rubbed away the sleepy grog.

The house was a fucking shithouse mess.

Everybody who was too drunk to stumble home had passed out on the floor with everything in disarray. Red solo cups were strewn everywhere along with a bunch of pool noodles, fading glow sticks, empty bottles and a huge pile of cans that had built up in the living room. Not since him and the rest of his Delta Tau brothers had cleaned up a notorious hoarder den off campus, had he ever seen a shithouse mess like this.

The light from the kitchen and living room windows had hit him with the white hot intensity of a thousand exploding suns, his head throbbing at the sight of it. It took everything in Rhett's power not to puke as he crawled towards the coffee table where his phone began vibrating.

"Aw fuck," he groaned when he felt his stomach lurch. It took him a minute to settle, but when he finally did, he picked up his phone and saw your contact picture.

"Hi baby," he croaked.

"You ok?" you chuckled.

"Debatable," he answered. "Where are you?"

"I'm at the grocery store," you answered. "You need anything?"

"Some Tylenol and the will to live would be great babes."

You laughed a little bit. "Alright I'll bring it over and make everybody a hangover breakfast," you told him. "Just promise me one thing though?"

"What's up?"

"No more Friday night ragers until finals are done?"

"I make no such promises sweetpea," he chuckled.

You laughed again knowing that him and his brothers would probably be doing it all again at some point or another. "Oh before you go," you said. "I'm gonna run to Wal Mart and get some extra supplies and some clean clothes. I'm missing a pair of panties and I have no idea where they went."

Rhett suddenly clenched his lip, his eyes practically bugging out of his head when you hung up.

"MOTHERFUCKER!!!!!!!" he suddenly blurted out.

The pile of empty beer cans suddenly slid to the floor, clattering and clanking as Kayce rose up out of it. "Good God what a battle," he groaned. "Are there any survivors?"

"Kayce get the fuck up!!" Rhett blurted out.

"The fuck's wrong with you?" Kayce asked, running his hands over his groggy face.

"I can't find (y/n)'s panties anywhere!"

"And this is a problem why?"

"Because the last thing I want is fuckin Smitty gettin his hands on'em," Rhett told him. "That piggly little rich asshole has been after (y/n) since she started here and I'm not about to let him claim anything I've already marked."

"Dude ya'll sound like a male cat during mating season," Kayce laughed.

"I'm serious Kayce!!" Rhett blurted out. "I've gotta find her underwear and I swear if that slimy little piece of snail cum has'em......"

"Bruh did ya'll happen to look on the turtle tank?"

Rhett's gaze turned to the turtle tank near the couch. Sure enough, there they were, a pair of red lace skivies, haphazardly thrown onto the little rock inside.

"Aw fuck," Rhett laughed. "You poor little guys, I'm so sorry."

He gave Speedy, the little brown tortoise and his female mate, a few pets on the shells, letting them lean their heads into his palm. Rhett was surprised their terrarium had survived the rager but duly made a note to have one of the freshman in the dorms take them for the weekend the next time they held a rager.

He had been about to reach in and grab the pair of underwear when Speedy somehow picked them up and stretched his little head, giving the panties to Rhett.

"I have never fuckin seen'em do that before," Kayce laughed.

"Ya'll got it on video?"

"Fuck yeah I did."

Despite the nasty hangovers, the boys made an effort to try and get some sunshine into the house. You rang the doorbell a minute later with you and two other girls from the Phi Gamma sorority, coming in, your arms full of groceries for the best hangover breakfast you could possibly make.

"Oh my God this place looks like a tornado ran through here," you laughed.

"We'll get it cleaned up sweetheart," Rhett assured you. "For now I've gotta get these assholes up."

It was a Herculean task to say the least. So many people were dead drunk in every corner of the house that Rhett was half tempted to go around with the ship's bell in the kitchen and wake everyone up. Bo had passed out in the living room with at least two other idiots having used him as a pillow, Kyle was still asleep under the coffee table, Cody was right under a window with Wes not far by. Ravi had passed out upstairs with at least three other girls and Foster had passed out in his room with his boyfriend. The newly accepted pledges were mostly in the basement while others had taken to whatever space they could find.

You cracked a few eggs into the freshly buttered pan on the stove, the sizzling loud enough to rouse a few of Rhett's brothers from their deep sleep. The whole kitchen soon smelled of eggs, bacon, sausage toast and pitch black coffee that was sure to soak up all the booze from the night before.

"Thank you baby," Rhett mumbled, wrapping both his arms and the heavy couch blanket around you and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"You're welcome," you chuckled kissing him back.

"Still can't remember what the hell we did last night," he croaked, rubbing his eyes.

"Did anybody take any video evidence?" asked Jessica, Bo's girlfriend from the sorority.

"I think Foster was the only one sober enough to remember," Rhett chuckled.

Foster came stumbling down the kitchen steps a split second later, hungover like the rest of them. "Oh my God, never again," he groaned.

"Your boyfriend still upstairs?" Rhett asked him.

"Yeah he was the only one sober enough to remember what happened last night," Foster answered. "Oh wait a sec....."

Foster checked his phone and sure enough, there was an unread message from his boyfriend. "Oh fuck," he said nervously.

"Wassup?" Kayce asked him.

"You guys are gonna wanna see this."

You plated Foster's breakfast before joining Rhett at the table, watching the video evidence unfold from last night. Your jaw dropped, trying to keep in the laughter of everyone's drunken shenanigans. You couldn't contain it anymore when you heard the drunken frat boys singing "Red Solo Cup" like a bunch of screeching seagulls and saw a bunch of girls throwing their underwear all over the room.

You looked at Rhett who sheepishly handed you your skivies. "I was gonna wash'em later with everybody's clothes," he told you.

You kissed him again. "No need Rhett, you're good."

And indeed he was good.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #frat!rhett #frat!rhett abbott #frat!rhett abbott x reader #outer range

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sopejinsunflower · 5 months ago

Text

2024.001.020: From Embers to Flames

Go to Series Masterlist!

--------------------------------------------------------------

Hoseok is restless.

He had tossed and turned so much in his bed that the sheet was all crumpled up and his blanket had somehow ended up on the floor in a pile. He’s staring at a spot on the ceiling, one arm resting across his forehead. He can’t sleep. Everytime he closed his eyes, it felt like he was sinking into the mattress straight down into a void he might never be able to climb back out of. So he kept his eyes open, blinking emptily.

That’s when the door is gently pushed open and Hoseok barely turns to look, confident that it’s Karma - the cat has more free reign of the house than any of them. Only when he felt the bed dipped from the weight did he finally raise his head (and eyebrows). The curtain is opened and the moonlight shines in through the window so it didn’t take long for him to see it’s you.

“Can’t sleep?” you ask in a voice barely a whisper.

Hoseok sits up, criss-crossing his legs under him. “I’d say the feeling is mutual since you’re here.” He smiles, patting the empty spot next to him. You crawl your way over to mirror the way he sits, knee to knee, staring straight ahead out the window. He watches silently the way your chest softly moves up and down and how your eyelashes barely graze the top of your cheeks each time you blink. It has always been something you’ve been insecure about, those short lashes, but Hoseok won’t trade them for anything else. It’s funny to Hoseok how you might change bodies and even gender for each cycle but all these little things would somehow remain similar.

The both of you sit there in silence, Hoseok patiently waiting for you to speak first. The sinking feeling he had earlier is gone and he wonders if it’s because you’re here. Of course it is. He’s just happy to finally be at ease. He leans back against the headboard, watching your side profile.

But what came out of your mouth next felt like a punch to the gut: “I feel like we’ve met before. In another life.”

Hoseok sucks in a breath.

~~~

I turn around to look at him, squinting in the semi darkness to read his face. I didn’t have to look too hard; the answer on his face was clear as day.

He remains silent, looking pale even in the moonlight. I purse my lips and turn away, remembering the promise I made: no questions until Sunday. I nodded to myself before turning back to him. “Forget I said that,” I say, automatically reaching out to touch his knee. “It’s fine, Hoseok.”

I watch his eyes flit over to the knee I’m touching and I quickly remove my hand but Hoseok is faster, covering my hand with his own, warm palm resting fully over my fingers and knuckles, gripping ever so slightly. He scoots closer, eyes downcast, trained on his hand enveloping mine, forehead furrowed. When he looks back up again, there’s a softness in his gaze as he exhales slowly and rests his head back against the headboard.

“Stay here tonight?”

I stare at his hand covering mine, contemplating for a moment whether the answer on the tip of my tongue is the right one. Sighing, I look back up to him. “Not tonight, maybe.” I pull away and climb off the bed. “Goodnight, Hoseok.”

I avoid looking at him in fear that the disappointed look on his face might make me change my mind, hurrying out of the room without another backward glance. It’s only until I cross the threshold of my own bedroom when I realised not looking back had been the wrong thing to do because the hand that wrapped around my upper arm came as such a surprise I let out a yelp loud enough for Karma to jump on all fours from his perch on the new cat tree.

“Hoseok!” I gasp, my heart hammering. “You scared me.”

To his credit, he does look guilty but the smile that spreads on his lips tells me that he found my reaction funny. I swat at his chest, pushing him away. “It’s not funny,” I grumble.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled. “I thought you knew I was right behind you.”

I glare at him, pouting. “What do you want?”

“Nothing,” Hoseok replies, slightly offended. “I just-”

He pauses and I arch an eyebrow, waiting.

He licks his lips before trying again, pupils shaking with nervousness as he stares right back at me. “I just…want you close. Tonight.”

~~~

Hoseok can hear the air that you suck in, can somehow even hear the way your heart doubled its pace as the both of you stand there in the middle of the room, staring at each other in a sort of stalemate of who breaks the silence first.

To be honest, now that he’s said it, he thinks he might throw up if you reject him for the second time that night. His heart is literally in his throat right now and he thinks if he shifts his weight wrong, the whole world might just come crashing down. The ball is in your court now so it’s only right to wait until you make the first move, come what may. Like a child who just wants to cover his ears and squeeze his eyes shut, Hoseok grits his teeth at the strong urge to run out of here.

Words of “No, I told you not tonight” and “seriously, Hoseok?” run through his mind and he half wishes he hadn’t said anything or even chased you back to your room. What an idiot. A desperate idiot. A desperate idiot that couldn’t even take the first subtle no as a complete answer. What did he think would happen? He should just go back to his room now before he makes things worse. Just apologise and leave, Hoseok, he thinks. Just-

Soft lips on his immediately banish the self-deprecating thoughts from his mind. His eyes go wide for a second as his brain catches up with what’s happening before he finally melts into you, catching your lips in between his. His arms silently wind around your waist, pulling you closer ever so slightly, pressing your body up against his so he can feel every soft edge and delicious curves, so he can memorise this body just as he had memorised the other ones, the other you’s - all different yet had felt just as familiar.

His. Theirs. Whatever you want to call it, this is it. This is what it feels like to be away for a long time and finally coming home. This is the same feeling of being lost in a crowd, frantic, until you see a familiar face once more. It’s the same as when you’ve spent an entire day out doing either fun activities or running errands and being able to finally sink into the comfort of your mattress at the end of the day. It's a relief, it’s content. It’s every little comfort in life that he has come to associate with you.

You, who had been so close yet so far away. You, who had been sitting right in front of his eyes these past few months yet going to bed missing you. He had been patient, he had followed the rules. Surely he deserves this, no? A little piece of the heaven he’s been promised if he plays the game right.

When Hoseok feels his feet moving, it’s not him that’s taking the lead. You guide him, mouths still connected, tongue still tangled, towards the bed in clumsy footsteps and he finds himself toppling onto his back. Neither of you break the kiss, not even as you straddle him, leaning chest to chest as you card your fingers through his hair, feeling his fingers dig into your side, probably leaving half-moon shapes on your skin. Neither of you seems to think that breathing is important right now, not when you both can drink in each other, taking it lungful of gulps of whatever that’s flowing through your connected mouths.

In the distant far back of Hoseok’s mind, he thinks there’s a hint of unfairness to this. How would he even explain this to the others? They wouldn’t be jealous per se, but more annoyed that he had, once again, been the first to get a full taste of you. All of them understood it well enough that there’s a ritual to the cycle, a pattern of sorts that forces itself even when they do their damndest to change things. Would that be enough of an excuse once the others find out (because they will find out)?

You pull away from the kiss, forehead remaining flushed against his. “Where are you off to?” You sound curious albeit a little sad and he cranes his neck to smush his lips back on yours, speaking in between kisses, “Sorry. I hope everyone’s really asleep, is all.”

You giggle, sitting back just slightly out of his reach. “We can always stop,” you tease, biting your already swollen lower lip.

“Fuck no,” Hoseok growls as he snakes his fingers on the back of your head and pulls you back in. This time, he’s wise enough to flip you both over, the control finally in his hands. A light bulb goes off in his head as an idea strikes him and with one rough swipe, he pulls your shirt up and over your chest. Shoving the bunched hem in between your teeth, he says, “Now try and stay quiet for me, baby.”

***

Jin picks out a card from Yoongi’s fanned out deck in his hands, smirks, then places a pair of aces into the middle pile.

He turns to Jungkook for his turn to draw. “Do you reckon they know we can hear them?” Jungkook asks nonchalantly as he turns towards Jimin, unable to find a matching pair.

The game of Old Maid had been going on for as long as the muffled ruckus started up in your room, right across from where they are, a method to keep them occupied as well as from bursting in there to catch Hoseok red-handed. But Jin thought that would’ve been too crass and since no one would be able to sleep anyway, they decided on a game of cards.

Jin snorts. “Doubt it.”

Yoongi just shrugs as he pulls out a card from Jimin’s hand. He pauses for a moment, tilting his head. “Is the cat inside?”

They all stop in their tracks, exchanging glances at each other in the silence (somewhat silence - they can hear the creaking of your bed) as they think about the possibility. Jimin shakes his head pitifully. “Poor, poor kitty.”

The game resumes.

Down the hall, as opposed to Taehyung lightly snoring, oblivious to what’s happening close by, Namjoon stands by the opened window, half his body hanging outside, hands pressed against the ledges. He thought that by doing this, he can somewhat distract himself with the nighttime nature but he can hear the quiet moans of your voice and wonders if you had your windows cracked open, too.

Aaagghh!

He wants to scream so bad but the sliver of self control he has has him scrunching up his face like he had tasted something sour, gripping to the window ledge so tight the wood creaks threateningly. Namjoon has no idea of the card game going on in Jin’s room. All he thinks is he wishes he was fast asleep instead, like the others because they seemed unbothered. He had expected for one or even two of them to burst into his room, wide-eyed and in between panic and excitement at the knowledge of you and Hoseok making love so painfully obvious.

Namjoon won’t deny the slight twinge of jealousy in his chest but feeling jealous of each other is as pointless as urging a flower to grow faster just because another one has already bloomed - everything is in due time; he just has to be patient. He does wonder if Hoseok’s true nature peeks out with you now, that dominance lurking under that bright, head-thrown-back laughter heard everyday around the house. What would you think of it? Or is Hoseok holding himself back, keeping things soft and vanilla for this first time with you? First time in this lifetime, of course.

As he sighs in defeat, retreating back into his room and closing the window tightly but almost begrudgingly, another thought comes to mind: How does he face you in the morning? Namjoon pauses on his way to the bathroom, blinking as he thinks, mouth downturned. What if he can’t hide the fact that he heard you? Fuck!

He stomps his way to the bathroom to splash cold water into his face, determined to forget everything and go to sleep. But sleep isn’t a good friend tonight as he lays there in bed, an obvious tent in his pyjama bottoms now, chewing on the insides of his cheeks. The harder he tries to push filthy thoughts out of his head, the more his mind wanders down to times when he had had you by his side almost every night, squished up against him, someone else’s arms around your middle, a human sandwich of sorts.

The first time Namjoon had laid with you, he had mistakenly thought you as shy, needing him to take the lead, nudging you in the right direction. He’d tease you with little orders like, “Take of your top for me, my love” and “That’s my girl” or “You’re as radiant as the stars in the sky, my darling, so let me see you more”, words that you blushed at, hiding your happy smiles behind your hair as you kept your head down low, doing everything he told you like a good puppy.

But Namjoon had been too naive. The moment you flipped him over, one palm pushing against his chest for balance as you pushed up on the balls of your feet moving perfectly over his shaft, mounting him like a cat in heat, head thrown back, mouth agape, breathing in shallow breaths as he watched your breasts bounce almost mesmerised. Namjoon had been speechless, his usually intelligent mind rendered blank and dumb. Ah, he had thought to himself, I must have died and reached heaven.

The more Namjoon entertained those memories swirling in his head, the more uncomfortable his lower half gets. He goes back into bed, pulling the covers over himself as his left hand sneaks into his pants. He closes his eyes, conjuring the memories of you in bed forward, almost smelling your skin on his clean sheet. His morals can go to hell for tonight.

~~~

Hoseok’s breathing is even, soft slow breaths that keep my eyes on the way his chest moves up and down.

But he’s not sleeping, I can tell. He slowly turns his head over to me, eyelids fluttering open to look at me. Rustling alerts me to his hand moving over to touch mine under the blanket, intertwining our fingers together in between us, bringing them up to his mouth. He places a kiss on each one of my knuckles before resting our connected hands on his bare chest.

“Hi,” I whisper lamely.

“Hi,” he whispers back with an amused smile.

I turn slightly sideways, lips connecting with his shoulder, mouthing at it a little, making him smile wider. The sun is only just rising, the soft glow of the slowly waking world outside holds off behind a curtain closed shut. Soon, the birds will start their activity, Mrs Oliviera will be thumping around on the first floor to start the day and it will be time to wake up and break this sacred, quiet moment between Hoseok and I.

“I should go back to-”

“Stay.”

Hoseok regards me for a moment. “But the others will be awake soon.”

“And?”

“They’ll ask questions,” he answers, turning onto his side and leaning on one elbow, looking down on me.

I hum, feeling his finger caressing my side. “You don’t have to answer.”

“They’ll know,” he says.

“Then they don’t have to ask.”

Hoseok chuckles softly. He leans down and connects our lips, fingers digging into my flesh. He deepens the kiss, pushing me over on my back as he looms over me, his weight creaking the bed. He moves to my cheek, nosing down to my neck, lightly brushing his lips on the sensitive skin there. He starts to move downward, pecking kisses down to my chest. I can feel his tongue poking out, feel it-

“Mreooowww!”

We both jump apart, him more than me that he almost falls off the edge of the bed.

“Karma!” I exclaimed, staring in disbelief at the cat that had just jumped onto the bed. He gives me a disapproving look as he curls up in what was just minutes ago Hoseok’s spot, laying his head on the pillow as if reclaiming it.

I turn back to Hoseok and give him an apologetic shrug. He laughs lightly, slipping off the bed and kneeling by the side of it. “I think that’s my cue, love,” he says. He leans over and kisses my forehead. “Sleep some more.”

I watch him get dressed and leave the bedroom, gently closing the door behind him. I lay back on my pillow, staring at the ceiling. I turn to Karma, purring contentedly. He opens his eyes in slits to look at me before closing them again, almost smugly.

“You’re such a brat, you know that?”

He ignores me, as expected.

I roll my eyes and turn the other way.

***

“Karma!”

The quiet yelling doesn’t bother the cat as I watch him bound up the stairs towards the third floor. I let out a groan and climb over the makeshift barrier, tiptoeing up the stairs as quickly as I can to go after him before the housekeeper sends us both to think about our actions in a corner. The stupid cat is fast and I try to be as quiet as possible, trailing after him.

“Get back here,” I hiss, bending low with my arms outstretched as I approach him close enough for the tip of his twin tails to brush my fingers. He had stopped to sniff at a closed door but then changed his mind, darting away and escaping me. He hurries down the hallway and I slow my pace, eyes trailing upwards to that same old door in the ceiling. I don’t come up here often and for some reason, the sight of it triggers a nostalgic feeling of sorts.

I stop right underneath it, neck starting to ache a little from how long I’ve been staring at the Anam Cara etched on the wooden surface. That specific celtic knot represents eternal love but what most people tend to ignore is the fact that Anam Cara literally translates to ‘soul friend’. I wonder why my grandaunt was so fascinated by Gaelic culture. Do we have some Irish bloodline in us? Or Vikings, maybe?

The sound of scratching pulls my attention down towards Karma again who is now long and extended halfway across one wall, paws stretched to reveal the razor claws beneath sunk into the wallpaper.

“Nononononono,” I mutter, leaping forward to remove him from making more damage but Karma is a cat. He lithely jumps out of the way but it’s too late for me to pull the brakes, ramming my shoulder straight into the wall he was leaning against, but instead of bouncing off of it, I sink into it.

~~~

The thud isn’t what made Jin finally curious enough to go up the third floor; it’s the strange cat that casually slinks between his legs heading downstairs, but not before giving him a look that confirms it wasn’t him making the noise.

Jin isn’t the bravest man out there. The only good thing about having a pet, he thinks, is that he can blame it for any weird creaky, spooky noise he can’t explain that happens throughout this old house. But it’s the afternoon and the house doesn't look so haunted with the sun shining through every window so he decided to be adventurous. His plan was to peek around the corner and then run like hell downstairs again.

He cranes his neck as far out as he can, one foot on the edge of the stairs, ready to bolt. His eyes scan the hallway hurriedly and when he doesn’t see anything, his heart starts thudding faster. Jin hears a pop in his neck from whipping his head around too fast but then he hears your voice.

“Ow…”

He pauses, heart finally calming down. “Y/n?”

No reply. Did he imagine it? He takes a tentative step forward and then another, eyes rapidly scanning the area. But it’s a long hallway that stops at a window. Are you in one of the rooms? Did you fall? Did something fall onto you? Oh god, no.

Jin bursts through each door one by one without bothering to close the one before, his senses heightened to the point there’s a ringing in his ears. Each door he goes through he’s met with ceiling-high stacked old items he doesn’t focus on for too long, items he had long put behind him; some made him think more about you which sends him into more of a panic. By the fourth door, Jin is half-convinced he imagined your voice and had half a mind to just go back downstairs to find you.

He exits the door and for some reason, he looks up towards the trapdoor that he had been living above off just a few months ago. He’s too far to see it but his eyes zone in on the Anam Cara. He remembers the night that he had taken a knife to the wood, giggling with you as he carved the shape, carefully not to nick himself with the blade as his vision sort of blurred together from how much wine he had drunk.

“Yoongi is going to be so- hic- mad,” you had slurred. “He was going to- hic- use this panel for a cupboard- hic.”

“I’m making it prettier,” he replied with a grin. “He’ll love it.”

No, he didn’t. Yoongi had been annoyed but not angry enough to do anything more than just roll his eyes when he had caught the two of you in his workshed. He did, however, throw the tangerine he was holding at Jin’s head before confiscating the knife from Jin and shepherding you both to bed, mumbling about soulmate symbols and how the Anam Cara wasn’t actually one (Jin had justified that it was his expression of eternal love for you which earned him that free lecture from Yoongi). And that’s the origin story of the trapdoor in the ceiling.

“Help!”

Jin snaps out of his reverie. He follows the muffled sound of the voice and finds himself face to face with the revolving secret wall. If he hadn’t been ten feet away from it, he definitely would not have heard it. A sense of deja vu washes over him, only this time he’s not a floating ghost.

~~~

“Help!”

I called out a second time but judging from how compact my voice sounds in this space, I knew no one would be able to hear me. My chest starts to wind up tight, my throat constricting as panic rises up to a crescendo. I can feel pressure in my ears but my mouth is clamped shut, unable to make any more noise. It’s so, so dark.

I’ve been here before, I remember. A while back when I had first found this place. How could I have forgotten that? That’s the funny thing about your brain; it tends to push down all the bad stuff so you can function somewhat properly. A monster in the dark. There’s a monster in the dark. A ghost. With eyes so familiar it hurts.

These thoughts go around and around in my head, bouncing off the walls of my mind as I try my hardest to not start hyperventilating. My breaths are coming out in short bursts and my hands are fisted, pressed together against my stomach. When your whole existence is crushing inward against you, your senses become sharper than usual, albeit narrowed to your own self. That’s how I’m hyper aware of how cold my own fingers are and how loud the thud, thud, thud is of my heart against my ribcage.

~~~

Jin picks random spots on the wall to pound against with the side of his fists, alternating between the right and left side as he’s confident the axis is somewhere in the centre. Thud, thud, thud! And yet the wall resists.

You no longer make any sound from within and although Jin knows that you could have made your way downstairs, his panic button is still turned on. He remembers your panic-stricken face the first time you stumbled across the hidden space, the way you had gone completely out of his reach even when he had been screaming in your face to try to snap you out of it. That triggered the other memory, of him dragging your limp body out of the water. Jin shivers, both to shake the bad memory away as well as in anger because. The wall. Just. Won’t-

The wall finally swings open and Jin’s eyes are quick to lock in on you the same time yours find him. He doesn’t waste another moment.

~~~

Jin. Jin’s eyes.

A ghost with eyes so familiar it hurts.

Jin. Seokjin. My Seokjin.

He’s crushing me so hard the wind is knocked out of me. Ironically, I can breathe again, taking in huge gulps of air like a diver resurfacing.

Murky waters.

Jin is talking to me but I can’t quite hear him. He’s holding my face in between both hands, forcing me to look up at him, into those eyes. Those eyes that look so worried, like I had died. My chest feels tight and my throat is suddenly ticklish, like I got something stuck there. I cough and it stings, like when you accidentally swallowed water into the wrong pipe.

Murky water. Mud.

~~~

“Are you okay?!”

You’re looking at Jin but not really seeing him, he can tell. Your eyes look far away, almost lifeless and it scares him so much his hands are shaking as he holds your face. He wants to call out to the others but something keeps him focused on you, unable to pull away even for a second lest he might lose you. It doesn’t make sense but the fear in his heart is real.

“Talk to me, please.”

You take a deep breath but Jin’s not convinced that you’re fully there yet. You start coughing and his panic goes back up to ten. Did you choke on something? He tries to keep your body straight so he can look, make sure you’re okay but you’re doubling over, grasping at your chest, coughing like you’re suffocating.

“-water.”

Jin bends down. “Okay, let’s get you some water. We need to get out-”

“You pulled me out of the water.”

The coughing stops as abruptly as it started. You look up at him, chest still heaving. Jin is at a loss for words, staring at you as he tries to make sense of the sentence. I did, he thinks, once upon a time ago.

Flashbacks to that dreadful day play like an old film reel in Jin’s mind, each scene starker than the next. Standing there in the secret space built so many years ago, he’s convinced that water is dripping down his forehead; water from that pond miles behind the property. He can even smell it on him. He doesn’t notice it yet but his heart is in his throat, ready to be vomited out once he opens his mouth to respond to you. “Jin,” you say, grabbing his shoulder and pulling him close, “did I die?”

a/n: at this rate, it looks like I'm posting once a year to this fic and they're shorter than I like too T_T i'm doing my best! I'll try harder, I promise! T_T

Next>>

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a/n2: to my taglist, if you're still reading, I LOVE YOU T_T if not, don't hesitate to lmk if you want me to take you off the list. I wouldn't mind, honestly ;_;

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leafyaa · 8 months ago

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Chapter 13

You had such a good time yesterday that you totally forgot about the package. So much so that you were dumbfounded when a person asked for it, making you rethink what package they were referring too.

"A package? You mean this one?" You picked the package up from the floor to show it to the person on your doorstep.

"Could I inspect it for a second?" The small female said as she reached for the package.

"Uhm, sure?" You lowered yourself down to her size to hand her the package.

You inspected the woman who was half your size. Sure she was quite short but she sounded and looked like a professional. Although she didn't look like she belonged to the delivery company, from observing her mannerism and outfit.

"Just as we expected.."

"Uhmm what's expected?"

"Someone delivered this to the wrong address.. It's quite the important item too.. People these days are way too reckless." The shorter woman sighed as she carefully put it into a black garbage bag.

"Wait what.. But the delivery man.." You were so confused. The man from yesterday said it was your neighbor's package..

"Don't worry, we'll take care of it. Luckily you didn't open it so there are no legal issues." She said.

"Okay.. Am I missing something? This feels extremely weird.."

"Yeah, it's your first time encountering such a problem.. For us it might be the 100th time. But don't worry, we'll make sure to never repeat this mistake again." The woman said with a yawn.

"I see.."

You nod and thank her, then close the door and sit down at your couch. Kind of still in shock. Could this be targeted at you?

But the woman didn't say it was targeted to you, actually she never gave any explanation of how this package was delivered to your address.. Surely there weren't any of those weird pranksters behind this...

You thought of reporting it to your friends but refrained from doing so, not wanting to burden them with your small worries, so instead you just went back to what you were doing.

You walked to your bedroom and carefully woke your cat up, brushing its fur until it slowly woke up. You still didn't know if it was a girl or boy but you didn't mind either.

You remembered what Kunikuzushi told you about going to the vet for a check up so you searched up the nearest vet and quickly dressed up to take your cat there.

While you were going about your day with little to no worries, Kunikuzushi on the other hand was frustrated.

"We've confiscated the bomb successfully." Sayu says as she shows the picture of an x-ray. It was a scan of the contents of the mysterious package that was delivered to your home.

Ayato hums in satisfaction as he goes through the reports given by his employee, then sliding them towards Kunikuzushi who could only clench his fist. He felt furious at whoever set the bomb up, especially towards you.

"As promised we made sure to keep your woman safe and not to reveal anything. So hand over the files I requested please." The Kamisato says calmly.

"Here." Kunikuzushi carelessly throws the USB stick over to Ayato who easily catches it with his thumb and index finger. He gives a sign and Sayu immediately pulls out a laptop and hands it over to him.

As Ayato puts in the USB Kunikuzushi stands up, ready to leave but is stopped by Ayato's voice.

"Wait a minute, you're not done yet."

"What." Kunizkushi visibly glares as he sits back down at his seat.

"A few questions I have about this particular harbinger.." Ayato says, slowly shifting his gaze over to Kunikuzushi. "So the Knave huh.. Is one of the 10 Snezhnayan diplomats while also being the criminally most wanted child trafficker?"

"Correct."

"And this is the database of all the children she has accumulated over the years?"

"From up to last year, yes."

"Where are all the names of the children though? All I see are the dates of and some other number behind them."

"That is, because it isn't of importance who the child's identity is, rather when they were taken and the ranks of the children."

Ayato's face changed expressions and started to frown. "So these are randomly targeted children, is that what you are saying?"

"Oh that?" Kunikuzushi let out a chuckle, seemingly changing moods. "The bitch mostly lured those with unstable homes away and portrayed herself as their angel coming to save them. Children are dumb and fall easily for these kinds of acts, even more when they view the person as a hero who has come to save them. They don't know they'll be tricked into being their little soldiers, they don't know it's all an elaborate scheme just to make money off of them or use them.. But in the end, it's all for the Fatui's benefit."

Ayato sighed, now being able to confirm that the rumors were indeed true. Children who were offered a chance at a young age that then become one of them, one of the Fatui. But Kunikuzushi didn't seem to want to wait for him to end his thoughts and continued.

"But we also have those who are specifically targeted. Sometimes harbingers request for certain specific children.. And one of them is the Doctor." Kunikuzushi spoke that name with disgust.

"As you know he's known as Snezhnaya's greatest scientist Dottore. He graduated from the Sumeru Akademiya as the first person from Snezhnaya. Truly fascinating, no? Yet his fascination for humans was even greater as he loved to experiment with the human body." Kunikuzushi speaks as he closes his eyes, feeling the memories of his past flood in.

"So, he's one of the few harbingers that requests children for his 'hobby', as he calls it."

Ayato's mouth dropped wide open. Kunikuzushi looks at him in satisfaction before slowly making his way towards the door.

"I suppose this is enough for today, I'll take my leave now."

While Kunikuzushi leaves, Ayato is left alone in his office to process everything.

Kunikuzushi's smirk disappeared from his face as soon as nobody watched him. He was disgusted by Dottore's hobbies, disgusted by his personality and him in general. How much he wanted to kill... It was an understatement.

He wanted to torture him as much and even more than he did with him. Back when he was still a kid.

⇠ previous ⭒ masterlist ⭒ next ⇢

Notes:

Still thinking how to incorporate Fontaine characters into this story and when to add the memory bubbles. 🤔

And I just realized the memory Bubble I posted isn't even really related to the chapter 💀 like it doesn't have the connection 😭 but anyways here's the link

Summary:

You've dated Scaramouche in your high school and college years but just as you wanted to announce your pregnancy to him he broke up with you without any reason. He left you to be a single mom for 7 years. But now that your daughter has been missing and abducted for a year and you've not been doing well and out of a sudden he showed up into your life again trying to apologize for his past mistakes..?

Taglist:

@swivy123 @kichiyosh1 @wwwrizchan @k1t0 @killumeow @pinkdreamerbailifflawyer-blog @samarill @xiaotopia @aqualesha @eattingshits @omoriaddict @mave-in @sketcheeee @xiaossocksniffer @elernity @ohmyfinggod @luvkvni @kunikissr @meadowofdarts @kaoriie @scaramochies @ekriis @rizakari @xxrexx @lovingveliona @magica-ren @lilybythevalley @theflatdoorkicker @lazy-sanns @reixtsu @fullw0rld @kunikuzushis-darling @childesgingerhair

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin au #genshin impact au #modern au #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche angst #ITIFILWYA

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givemea-dam-break · 1 year ago

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maybe, maybe, maybe (george karim x reader)

a/n: this fic got me out of my writing slump, so i do sincerely hope you all enjoy but i cannot promise happiness. tis not my thing. enjoy suffering my loves <3 @neewtmas my dear dear wife, this one is for you :)

warnings: language, big sad teehee words: 1.9K taglist: @wellgoslowly @waitingforthesunrise @oblivious-idiot @jesslockwood @magicandmaybe @gotlostinfiction @ettadear @locklylemybeloved @aayeroace @mischiefmanaged71 @mirrorballdickinson @ikeasupremacy gn reader

The living room of your flat has possibly never been messier but, even still, George Karim sits amongst haphazardly folded blankets and notebooks of scribbles, between the window cluttered with long-forgotten photographs and the slightly dented door without batting an eye.

He’s like a slice of heaven within it all; a source of light in this horrible darkness you’ve sown all by yourself. And, yet, it doesn’t clear. The darkness lingers there, frayed at the edges but persistent, trying its hardest to suck all the brightness from him. You suppose that’s partly because of how things ended. How you’ve felt during this time apart.

“Nice flat,” he says in that monotonous tone of his, the one that doesn’t reveal anything no matter how frustratingly hard you try to decipher it.

You scoff, clutching your mug of tea to your chest. “Wouldn’t say that.”

Truly, you wouldn’t. Not with the damp that seeps through the ceiling or the smell of your neighbour’s rubbish bin that was really due emptying days ago. Certainly not with the horrible silence that suffocates you when you’re trying to sleep, or the knowledge that, no matter what you do, this flat will remain empty of anyone but you. Anyone but you and the photos that are gathering dust.

They often stare at you, glittering beneath their gowns of dust in the sunlight or even in the most horrendous of weather. Smiles of people you no longer truly know. Friendships you could only dream of. Times you would do anything to get back. You should’ve ripped them up long ago, but you couldn’t, and still can’t, bring yourself to do it.

“How have you been?” George asks, glancing at you over the dark rims of his glasses for a mere moment. “I’ve not heard from you in a while.”

The shrug you attempt comes out a little disjointed. Heat seeps through your ceramic mug, burning your fingers, but the pain is a welcome kind. It’s keeping you present. “What are you doing here, George? I know you’re not just here to catch up.”

He’s quiet for a moment, contemplating his words over a swirling mug of dark tea. The silence has your fingers twitching, begging for some kind of answer soon lest you start going mad over the fact that after a year, he’s here, sitting in your flat only a few feet away with that endearing look of rumination on his face, the mop of dark curls you had once longed to run your hands through. God, you bought him the shirt he’s wearing right now. Did he choose it on purpose?

“I wanted to see how you were doing.”

Bullshit, your brain says.

Thank god, says your heart.

“I’m doing fine,” you say. “And, I think if you had been so bothered, you would’ve come sooner.”

It’s a little harsh, you know. Yes, you would give anything to have the friendship you once shared again, but you’re entitled to your anger. He’s the reason you live in a horrible apartment block in a less-than-adequate flat, with your only company being your own oppressive loneliness and, occasionally, the cat belonging to the old lady in the flat above. But, even then, Pippi doesn’t seem to want to stay long. That hurts more, perhaps, than not having a friendship with the boy you would’ve died for during this past year.

“I wanted to come see you,” he admits. “But I figured you didn’t want to see me.”

Oh, how wrong he is.

As the mug burns the skin of your fingers, it’s all you can do to cling onto reality and not fall back into the horrid isolation and despondence that has grown all too familiar.

There have been some nights where the loneliness has been so terrible, so consuming, that you’ve imagined George in your flat. You would smile at him, and he would smile back in such a way that had your heart doing leaps. He would lie beside you on the ground, a body of light and happiness and illusion, and listen to all of the heavy feelings that dragged behind you so often like a ball and chain. It would take a few minutes of empty silence to realise it wasn’t real. It would never be real. Not again.

How cruel of him to assume that, you think. Crueller, maybe, than him being the reason for you living here, away from him, in the first place. To protect you, he had said as Lockwood had handed you the resignation papers. To protect us.

Of course, you had still been allowed to live with your friends at thirty-five Portland Row, but how could you? How could you sit in the kitchen every morning across from him, knowing he had essentially banned you from fieldwork with Lockwood and Co.? Knowing he had taken from you the one thing you had truly felt good at. To protect you.

A sip of hot tea, setting your tongue and throat on fire but tearing you from the approaching sorrow. “You obviously don’t know me as well as you thought.”

There’s a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “You wanted to see me? I thought you would’ve hated my guts.”

Your chest aches now, and it almost feels as though your heart is trying to rip itself from your body to escape the pain that threatens to swallow you whole. No matter how often you feel it, your heart just cannot become accustomed.

“I thought the world of you, Georgie,” you murmur, turning your gaze to the window of golden sunlight. How unfair, that such a beautiful day can bring such torment. “I would’ve done anything for you, had you said the word. I just thought you had felt the same.”

Obviously not.

But, even still, the look in those dark eyes of his has you wondering. Could he have? Was there ever a possibility?

“You thought…?”

“I did. I had hoped that we… well, that we could’ve been something more. More than just George and (name). But I suppose you had other ideas.”

He’s standing, all of a sudden, and the room feels entirely too small, as if it cannot fit two souls of eddying pain in such a compact space. He’s coming closer. His footsteps are swallowed by the trodden, stained rug. He’s in front of you, so close you can hear him breathing, and see the dozens of paint-stroke colours in his eyes and the little scar on the bridge of his nose, hidden by the frame of his glasses.

When was the last time you stood so close to someone? Judging from the racing of your heart, it’s been a while. Perhaps it was that last case you went on together, the one where you almost reached for his hand. Or maybe it was when you had angrily stormed past him, shoving him out of your way in your haste to leave Portland Row and him. Him, him, him.

“(name),” he whispers, and it’s like his voice has been stolen away. Even so close, you can barely hear him. “I wanted that more than anything. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

And though you want to, you can’t look away. “So, instead, you sent me away.”

“That was never my intention,” he promises. His voice is becoming more desperate now, and it’s carving a hole in your chest. “All I wanted was for you to be safe. All I wanted was you.”

His fingers are brushing your arm now, and, god, it’s all you’ve ever wanted. For him to be so close. For him to want you the way you’ve always wanted him. For him to love you in the same way. One footstep closer, and your chests could almost touch. But, still, you find yourself pulling away despite the agony shredding your very being. His touch, however small, is too much. You can’t bear it.

You have to force the words to leave your lips. “You should leave.”

Even without looking at him, you can picture the expression on his face, the acute dejection, the slightly widened eyes and parted lips. His breath hitches quietly, and his fingers, still outstretched as if clinging to some semblance of your skin, twitch.

“(name) –“

“You should leave,” you repeat, and this time the words feel like a death sentence.

This morning, it would’ve been better than a dream to have George here. To know that he has loved you like you have him. But, now, seeing him after so long, hearing the words you could’ve only imagined before, feels like an arm across your throat. Asphyxiating. Choking. Wrong.

And it kills you to even think that.

You don’t want to push him away, truly. All you’ve wanted this past year is him. The smell of tea and old books and something strangely citrusy. The warmth of his body close to yours. The comfort of knowing that, if you needed it, you could reach for his hand. The elation at seeing his smile, whether it be subdued or that enchanting toothy grin.

But here you are, pushing the one person you need away.

George’s hands give a slight tremble before he shoves them into his pockets. His lips purse, and his eyes search your face for a moment longer, trying desperately to find a piece of you that wants him to stay. And, god, does a part of you want him to – need him to – but he doesn’t find it.

His gaze falls from yours, and it feels as if your soul is being ripped into a million shreds of old, rotting paper. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry, George. I just –“

“I know,” he utters.

And you’re sure he does. Because nobody has ever understood you in such a way as he. Nobody has ever known the inner workings of your mind so thoroughly, or perfected the ways to change your moods when you’ve needed it most.

Though, right now, he feels like a stranger whose heart and soul has been borne before you. A stranger whose laugh you could place in any crowd. A stranger who holds the dearest, most painful place in your horrible heart.

“Maybe one day…”

His lips are pressed in a thin, white line. “I know.”

Your pain is a product of your own making, but it’s debilitating as you watch him step out of your front door. It’s only when it clicks shut that it all comes washing over you: his presence; his absence; your refusal.

Everything you had wanted had been right in front of you. Everything you had longed for, dreamed of during those lonely, cold nights when all you wanted to do was curl up in the library of thirty-five Portland Row with George, talking about anything and nothing, had been right there, and you turned it away.

The mug crashes to the ground. The tea spills all over the already tea-stained rug in a somewhat weekly ritual of torment you always seem to repeat. It scalds your feet through your socks, but the pain is distant. Needed.

You should run out of your flat. You should follow him like they do in the movies and grab his face and kiss him in some dramatic gesture of love. You should declare your love for him, beg for him to stay and make everything right. He would hold you tight, promise to never let you go again, and, ultimately, you’d both be happy. No longer would he simply be some figment of your imagination, but reality.

But your feet never move. The tea continues to burn its edict of punishment. His presence becomes ever-distant, unattainable.

Maybe you were made for loneliness, you think. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

#george karim x reader #george karim fanfiction #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #george karim #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #x reader #fanfiction #givemea-dam-break

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chellybean15 · 2 years ago

Text

I wish it was me. Tyler Galpin x reader

TW: angst, fluff, and swearing

This is my first time writing anything like this so I'm sorry if it sucks.

..................................

Today, you were going on a date with one of your classmates, Jessie Ryan. He's a vampire that attends Nevermore. You were beyond excited, so you decided to go to the Weathervane to tell your best friend, Tyler Galpin.

When you arrived at the Weathervane, you were already dressed up for your date. Wearing a a little bit above the knee length, light grey, small sleeve dress with black sandals. Your makeup was just like usual with a cat eye and some mascara. When Tyler saw you he was absolutely taken aback by how pretty you looked.

" Hey there", Tyler said as he sat beside you. " What are you all dressed up for."

" I have a date with Jessie today." You told him. He looked up at you with slightly widened eyes and a gloomy look on his face, which you caught onto quickly. " Is something wrong Ty?" You asked.

" Oh. Um no, I'm okay." He said still holding that gloomy look on his face. You decided not to push him on it. You know he would tell you if something was bothering him. You smiled at him to brighten up the situation.

You received a text message, and when looking down at your phone you saw Jessie had texted you, telling you he was on his way to pick you up. You smiled at your phone which caused the look on Tyler's face to become more sour and prominent.

You turned to look back up at Tyler. When you look up at him, he's looking at you with what looks like disappointment. You thought he said nothing was wrong, which made you sad to think that he lied to you, you'll talk to him later about it.

You heard the door to the café open. That's when Jessie walked up behind you, tapping on your shoulder. You turned around and smiled when you saw him.

" You ready to go?" He asked. He looked you up and down smiling. " You look really pretty today Y/N." He said.

" Thank you Jess. You look great too, and yes I am ready." You said. taking his hand as he led you towards the door. You looked back at Tyler and waved goodbye, yet he just rolled his eyes and went back to work.

..................................

The date was didn't go as planned. You realized that Jessie and you had nothing in common. All he talked about was all the girls he hooks up with and basically interrogated you on if you ever hooked up with Tyler, of course you said no.

" Are you sure you never hooked up with Tyler?" Jessie asked.

" I promise on my life that I never hooked up with Tyler. I'm not sure if I ever thought of him that way." You said.

" That's so weird now that you say that." He said.

" What do you mean?" You asked.

" Tyler practically follows you around like a lost puppy dog. He looked really upset about our date too. I also overheard Enid talking about how Tyler kept telling her how much he liked you and wished you felt the same for him. Lowkey feel bad for the guy." Jessie stated.

Woah. That was a lot to take in. Had Tyler really liked you all this time? It does explain his sour mood at the Weathervane today after you told him about your date.

Everything Jessie said started to click in your head. All the times where Tyler comforted you because of a guy or when your parents never showed up for parents day. All the times where his hugs would linger on for awhile or the times he kept watching you when you'd watch movies together. It all started to make sense. Tyler did love you. You had a tiny crush on Tyler when you first met him but when he started dating his ex girlfriend, you tried to suppress your feelings for him but it only made it hurt worse. Now that you figured out that Tyler has feelings for you, it caused all the feelings you had for him before come rushing back. You needed to see him.

" I'm guessing this date is over?" Jessie asked. " I can tell that you just realized everything."

" Oh. Yeah. I'm really sorry about the date ending. I just realized that I have feelings for Tyler too. The picnic was fun though. I enjoyed hanging out with you. Bye." You said waving as you ran towards Tyler's house.

..................................

When you finally got to Tyler's house, you were out of breath. You knocked on the door to see if he was home since his dad's truck was gone. Tyler answered the door in his PJs.

" What are you doing here Y/N?" He asked with a groggy voice. He must have just woken up. " What happened to your date?"

" I just got done with the date. It didn't go as planned." You said.

" Well that's to bad. What happened? If you don't mind me asking." He said.

" We just didn't have that much in common, and I realized that I rather it have been someone else with me on that date." You said, trying to muster up some confidence to confess your feelings.

" Oh? I'm sorry it didn't work out. I'm sure you'll mind someone eho has the same interests as you. Anyways, I'm pretty tired so I'm gonna go back to bed. Goodnight Y/N." He said walking back inside about to close the door.

" Wait!" You said loudly. "I really need to talk to you. Please."

He turned around towards you. "What's up Y/N?" He asked kinda concerned.

"Why were you so upset at the Weathervane? After I told you about my date today." You asked. He looked at you confused. " I know something was wrong. I certainly don't appreciate that you lied to me."

" You're right. I was upset, and I'm sorry I lied to you but I was just a little hurt that's all." He said with a pained look.

" Why were you hurt?" You asked.

" Seeing you with jessie hurt me because I was wishing it was me who you were all excited to go on a date with. I've liked you since the minute I met you. I just always wished you felt the same. I understand that you don't feel the same way and I feel stupid confessing everything but I don't want to lie to you anymore." He said with tears forming in his eyes.

You took a minute to think about what you were going to say next.

" I like you too Tyler." He froze looking up at you in shock. " I never said anything about it because I thought I moved on after you got with your ex girlfriend, but talking to Jessie and him saying that you like me brought back all the feelings I have for you. I honestly wished I never tried to suppress them." You said.

Tyler stood there for a second trying to process everything you just said. Then after a minute or so he came up to you and took your face in his hands and gave you the softest kiss in the world. It was amazing. It felt like you finally knew where you were supposed to be. Right here in Tyler's arms. After some time you pulled away.

" Wow." He said.

" Yeah. That was amazing." You said.

" How would you feel if I asked you to be my girlfriend?" he asked.

" I would be honored." You said.

" Well in that case. Will you be my girlfriend? And maybe go have a movie and cuddle marathon?" He asked.

" I would love to." You said as you followed him inside.

That night was definitely a night to remember. You two enjoyed cuddle and watching movies all night.

#tyler galpin x y/n #tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin #tyler galpin imagine

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